#where else have you tried. why not reach out again. hard to find a job when you're sleeping until 5 every day

[virmillion]

hey why the shit is every fuckin therapist in range not accepting new clients in the next two months. ive seen two or three ever and they were all too long ago/quit their location so i cant reach them but all the fuck i need is a letter saying Hey Uh Give This Kid Testosterone. but no nobody is accepting new patients any time soon. which is great bc people are getting help but fucking sucks because i am going to lose my mind it was SO EASY to do the first half with my endo. she literally trusted me right off and wrote the lab request and everything no fuckin hoops to prove i hate my body that much or nothin. and now this. now i continue to be ghosted by fuckin EVERYONE. jobs and therapists and my own goddamn mother because its soooo harddddd to lose ur daughter :(((( YOU STILL HAVE A DAUGHTER SHE MOVED TO ANOTHER CITY AND HANGS OUT WITH HER BOYFRIENDS FAMILY MORE THAN US. YOU GAIN A SON OUT OF THIS DEAL

[loudstan]

New Town, New Me

Summary: Jaemin can't understand why his destined mate has been marked by another werewolf.

Pairing: Werewolf! Jaemin x Witch! Female reader

Warnings: smut, some angst, Jaemin has a breeding kink but what's new

“New town, new me,” you murmured for the tenth time this week. 

 You moved to a new city about a month ago, thinking a clean start was right what you needed after your last breakup. Some may say you were being too dramatic, like, who would leave the city entirely just to avoid seeing your ex? 

You. 100%.

You would quit your job, sell all your shit and move to the other side of the country if that meant you didn’t have to see that dick (and his dick) again. After all, the only reason you were living in the capital city before was because he asked you to…and of course you had said yes! You were engaged, after all.

Did that matter anymore? It was all over now. There was nothing left for you there. The man who had promised to love you was head over heels for somebody else, you had never liked your job anyways, and the few friends you had made were your ex’s friends too. Staying would only make you more depressed.

Plus you always wanted to live by the seaside.

 But not even the calming ocean scent could make you feel better after another day of not landing a job. You had been living off your savings for almost two months now and if you didn’t get a job soon, you would have to move in with your parents in your hometown. That wasn’t an option.

 You loved your parents. You really did. But they had been so worried about you ever since they heard about the engagement gone wrong, and it had been hard to convince them you would be fine on your own. You remember how much you argued when you told them you were moving to the capital with your boyfriend, how they kept telling you it was an important decision and to take things slow… oh, how right they were. When you told them you were dumped, you were expecting them to say “I told you so”, but they were so incredibly supporting and kind, assuring you you would find the right person for you one day, and that they would be there for you whenever you wanted to talk.

 But you really didn’t want to talk. At least not about it. It was embarrassing.

Moving in with your parents would mean that you wouldn’t be able to escape their interrogation. 

You would also have to explain the peculiar mark on your neck.

“New town, new me,” you repeated. Now the eleventh time of the week, still staring at the sea that looked blurry and unrecognizable due to the tears that kept distorting your vision. You had been crying for hours, from when the sky displayed a beautiful blend of orange and red until now; the sky and everything around you was dark as your fingers dug into the sand and the sound of the waves breaking became louder, making the headache you got for crying so much worse.

 You sniffed and blew your nose into your sleeve, not caring how gross it was, before standing and trying to get the sand off your body, which inevitably stuck to your skin and clothes. You let out a frustrated groan as you started walking away from the shore and into the barely illuminated city streets which after all this time you still couldn’t recognize. Your place should be somewhere around and you would be able to find it easily if only the battery of your phone wasn’t dead. 

A chill ran down your spine at the possibility of being lost in the middle of the night in a city where you knew no one. Your heart beat faster and you accelerated your steps, even though you had no idea where you were going, until you saw a little store that still had the lights on and sprinted towards what seemed to be your only chance to ask for help.

 You reached the store just when the lights went out and a man stepped out, locking the door.

  “E-excuse-,” you tried to speak while catching your breath.

“We’re closed,” the man hummed without even sparing you a glance.

“But I-,” you insisted desperately.

“Come back tomorrow,” he said monotonously, his broad back still the only thing you could see as he put the keys of the store in his pocket and started walking away. “Working hours are from 9:00 A.M. to 9:00 P.M on weekdays, until 6:00 P.M. on Saturdays, and we don’t open on Sundays nor National Holidays,” he continued reciting like he was a customer service answering machine without a care for what could happen to you.

 You bursted out crying. Not quietly sobbing like in the beach before, but ugly loud crying, in the middle of the street.

 This seemed to finally get the man’s attention, who turned around to look at you for the first time and gasped audibly. If it wasn’t for your tears you would have been able to see the conflict in his face; he looked like he had discovered the most valuable of treasures, his eyes shining excitedly but at the same time his brows furrowed in concern at your distressed state. 

 “H-hey…It’s okay,” he stuttered nervously, taking the keychain out of his pocket and fighting with the door lock. “We’re still open-it’s okay!” He finally managed to open the door and quickly turned the lights on before motioning for you to come in. “W-what do you need? I’ll give you a d-discount-fuck, don’t cry, I’ll give it to you for free, okay?”

 You weren’t even listening to him, too consumed by your own misery, letting it all out after almost two months of solitude in a strange place.You cried louder, hiccuping and breathing with difficulty, much to the man’s dismay, who just couldn’t find the right words to comfort you. So he stopped talking and embraced you in a firm hug instead.

 You stopped crying immediately, shocked at the stranger’s arms surrounding you and pulling you into his chest without hesitation. As if the situation wasn’t already weird enough, you soon felt something funny; a warm sensation traveling from your chest to the rest of your body. It made your head void of all thought, your fingers tingle, and a weird excitement started to grow in your stomach. It felt pleasurable. 

“Oh…” was all that left your mouth as your confused body tried to adapt to the feeling. Could it be some type of spell? “W-what-”

“Shh…,it’s nothing bad, ” he whispered reassuringly. “It will make you feel better. Just let it happen…”

 You let out a shaky breath as you melted in his arms. It felt so good. He could be a serial killer and you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Your life was already shitty anyways, so if you were going to die, then at least you got to feel good before.

“Now, how about we go inside and you tell me all about it?” the stranger purred, his voice hypnotizing you while one of his hands caressed your hair cautiously. “I’m a great listener.”

You nodded mindlessly, letting him guide you inside the small store. You would say yes to anything he asked from you right now, especially when you finally caught a glimpse of his gorgeous face.

 You took a proper look at the store and realized what type of place it was: an apothecary; where people could buy all types of ingredients used for medicine and potions alike. You felt nostalgic; you always enjoyed potion making in school and even pursued it as a major for a few years. You would have graduated if your ex hadn’t convinced you to drop out and move to a different city with him. You cringed at your own stupidity and sighed, letting the man walk you past the counter and countless shelves with products until you reached a wooden door at the back of the store. When he opened the door you saw a small but comfy room with a small table, a couple of chairs, a sofa, and something that looked like an improvised kitchen.

“It’s not much, but it’s better than standing in the cold outside,” he murmured as he sat you down on the sofa and walked towards the kitchen cabinets. “Do you drink coffee?”

“...Yeah,” you croaked while you took a proper look at his figure; he was tall and muscular, the sweater he was wearing doing nothing to hide the firm muscles of his arms. He had both a killing body and a pretty face? Whoever he ended up marrying was one lucky person for sure; and for a moment you spaced out and found yourself imagining it was you, and you were sitting in the living room of your house while he prepared dinner.

 You shook your head, weirded out at the ridiculous thought, and decided to blame it on him for looking so good while doing something so domestic.

“Here,” he said, offering you a warm mug with coffee which you gladly took in your hands. “Sorry, I don’t have milk or sugar…I-uh, normally like it dark.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, taking a sip of the bitter liquid. You would usually prefer something sweeter, but just the fact that he made this for you made you feel a bit warm inside already. 

This man himself had some type of calming effect on you and as soon as he dragged a chair and sat in front of you, you found yourself telling him all about your worries while your phone was charging. You told him you had moved to town almost two months ago, but that you couldn’t find a job and didn’t know anyone so it was hard to make friends. He listened attentively, nodding and speaking when the time was right and asking some questions when needed. He was indeed a good listener.

“Sorry I took so much of your time…,” you finally said.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said immediately, drinking from his own mug. “I had no plans, anyways.”

“I find it hard to believe,” you snorted.

“Oh? Why is that?” he quirked an eyebrow at you curiously. 

“I mean,…it’s Friday night. I’m sure you had a party to attend…a girlfriend to see…” you murmured the last part knowing it was none of your business, but you were still dying to know.

“Nope,” he answered, staring at his now empty mug. “None of that.”

“There’s no way you’re single!.”

“Why is it so hard to believe?”

“You’re hot-,” you blurted out and immediately clasped your hand over your mouth. “Oh god, I’m so sorry…I never speak like this to strangers, I don’t know what’s wrong with me today-”

“Jaemin,” he said.

“What?” 

“My name is Jaemin,” he repeated and gestured his hand towards you, indicating it was your turn to introduce yourself.

“O-oh, right… I’m Y/N,” you said timidly.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he gave you a smile that would charm every human on Earth as he leaned forward. “Now that we’re not strangers anymore, is it okay for me to say that you’re incredibly hot too?”

 You gasped, blushing to the point your ears were hot. But just as fast, you felt your heart stop and your hands go cold when you noticed the red glim in his eyes as he eyed you up. 

 “Y-you’re a w-werewolf…” you breathed out, your chest rising and falling unevenly. 

“I won’t hurt you,” he quickly assured you, his heart aching at the sudden repudiation coming from you. He placed his mug on the table and raised his hands up,trying to look as harmless as possible. “We are not as violent as people think- oh…, but I guess I’m not the first werewolf you encounter,” he mumbled when his eyes finally noticed a scar on your neck.

 You quickly fixed your scarf to cover the mark, but it was too late.

“You’re mated,” he said dejectedly, his eyes glossy as he stared at your neck even though it was now covered. “B-but it can’t be…”

You both sat in silence. He seemed to be having an internal battle while you reprimanded yourself for carelessly flirting with yet another werewolf. 

“How long have you been together?” Jaemin asked, his demeanor changing drastically as he offered you a polite smile.

“A while,” you lied for two reasons; the first one being that the truth was embarrassing and the second that you didn’t want him to think he had a chance with you. No matter how attractive he was, you wouldn’t get involved with a werewolf again.

“That’s great,” he said through gritted teeth. “So you guys moved here together, right?”

“Y-yeah…” you stuck to your lie.

Jaemin stared at you intently as if he was trying to decipher some secret message behind your words. “I may not look like it, but I’m quite a romantic,” he chuckled dryly, lying back on his chair to offer you an inviting view of his thighs. “I really enjoy listening to genuine love stories… So how did you two meet?”

“It wasn’t that romantic ” you said, trying to sound calm while remembering such painful events. “He visited my hometown during vacations and got lost, so he approached me in the street to ask for directions, but ended up blurting out that I was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen…,” you half laughed, half scoffed. “Love at first sight, I guess…”

“...What did it feel like?” Jaemin asked after nodding slowly.

“Good? I guess? Everyone likes being complimented, right?” you shrugged. “It was cute.”

Jaemin tilted his head. “...Cute?”

“Yeah, adorable,” you confirmed. 

“Did you just call the pull cute?” he furrowed his eyebrows.

“The what-?” you asked dumbly.

“The pull, Y/N,” he leaned forward, placing his elbows on his thighs and resting his chin on his hands. “The feeling that tells you someone is your mate and doesn’t let you stay away from them? Of course you know about that, being mated to a werewolf and all…”

“R-right,” you lied. “I know,” you said, but you did not know a thing about this so-called pull. Your ex simply told you he imprinted on you and you were so flattered that you believed him without questioning it, developing feelings for him later on. 

“Then it has to be more than just cute,” he insisted on making you say something more elaborate. “Maybe you felt something warm in your entire body? Sudden tranquility, like nothing mattered as long as that person was there? Hands hurting to hold that person closer, so close until you can only feel each other? Or maybe…” his hand reached slowly until his fingertips barely grazed your abdomen and his voice dropped an octave. “...a boost of desire right here?”

 You could do nothing to conceal  the embarrassing mewl nor the way your body visibly shivered. Jaemin was talking like he knew the feeling very well; like he had felt it very recently. More importantly, he was describing exactly what you felt when he hugged you outside the store… could it be-? No, no way…

 Was he suggesting that you were his mate? 

 Judging by how thrilled he looked by your reaction to his words and touch, that was exactly what he was thinking. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, picking up a scent that your human nose couldn’t, and then he licked his lips, his own body shivering

“Yeah?” he whispered darkly. “Sounds familiar?”

“I-I felt just like t-that,” you admitted shamefully, but were quick to gain some self control and elaborate your lie further. “With my boyfriend.”

 Jaemin’s eyes snapped open, as red and bright as before. The way his jaw clenched let you know he wasn’t happy with that answer.

“I bet,” he muttered, forcing another smile. “Must be nice.”

“It sure is,” you affirmed. 

Just when he opened his mouth to say something else, your phone buzzed from the corner where it had been charging. Thankfully, your survival mode had activated and you were quick to use the opportunity as a way to escape. You stood up and went to grab your phone, entering your password to find a message from your mom.Perfect timing!

“That 's him!,” you said with a relieved tone, talking about your imaginary boyfriend. “I should go, he must be so worried.”

“Took him long enough,” Jaemin said, failing to hide the slightly sarcastic tone, looking at the clock on the wall and standing up as well. “Why isn’t he coming to pick you up?”

“No need, I live nearby,” you confessed now that you were looking at the map on your phone. “I’m gonna uh-..go,” you said hurriedly as you made your way to the door, followed by Jaemin, who just nodded in silence. When you stepped outside the store, you found yourself already longing for his touch and you cursed yourself.

“Jaemin,” you called, your heart throbbing when his sad eyes met yours. “Thank you.”

His eyes lighted up and stared at you, tongue-tied as you mumbled a short goodbye and walked away. 

“Y/N!” you heard him yell after a few seconds, and turned around just in time to see him jogging towards you. He stopped when he was in front of you, moving his hands towards your body but changing his mind and crossing his arms instead. “T-the store…I, uh- We’re hiring.”

“Huh?” 

“You said you needed a job, right?” he rubbed the back of his neck. “We need help at the apothecary. The owner is an old man and he’s taking a break because of his health. I do everything myself, so he told me I could, like-hire someone to help or…,” he mumbled nervously, losing track of the main point. “Anyways, maybe you’re interested?” he asked hopefully. 

You were very interested! It was like a miracle! A job being offered to you out of nowhere? It felt like destiny… 

Destiny. Just like a wolf’s mate. You shook the idea out of your head immediately; if you took the job, you would spend most of your time with this dangerously attractive werewolf. Was that a good idea?

 “I’ll think about it…,” you finally said.

“Y-yeah okay,” Jaemin nodded, biting his lower lip anxiously.  “Take your time.”

That happened about two weeks ago and you hated to be thinking about his offering so seriously, but when you checked your bank balance you understood you were in no position to be picky anymore. You needed a job, any job, now.

 That was the only reason you were now standing outside the apothecary now. Not because you couldn’t stop thinking about Jaemin. Definitely not because your chest ached whenever you mentally scolded yourself, repeating you wouldn’t see him again.

You took a deep breath in and walked inside the store, greeted with Jaemin’s tired expression; he looked pale, slightly thinner and there were dark circles under his eyes. As soon as he saw you he let out a relieved sigh and a soft murmur that sounded like ‘you’re finally here’ and walked around the counter, towards you. When he was close enough, he rested his head on your shoulder and whimpered, shocking you for the second time at how easily he touched people he wasn’t close with.

 “Y/N,” he breathed out pathetically, at the verge of tears. “Please tell me you’re here to take the job- I… I can’t do this.”

 “W-what’s wrong?” you asked, repressing the gratifying sensation consuming your body at the physical touch you had been craving for weeks. 

“Need you here, please.,” he mumbled drowsily and cursed under his breath at the scent he had been missing.

 He was talking about the job. He had to be talking about the job.

“I-uh, I can try?” you offered and he immediately lifted his head.

“Really?” he asked.

“Yeah, I mean- You need help and I need a job, so…”

“Can you start today?” he asked instantly, almost desperately.

“...Don’t you want to read my CV first? Or interview me?” you inquired, offering him a folder with your printed information inside.

“O-oh, yeah of course,” he opened the folder and flipped to the limited pages of your CV. You shifted uncomfortably, almost sure he would be disappointed at your lack of job experience. “You majored in potion making?” he asked, raising his eyebrows, displaying an impressed look.

“I didn’t finish,” you admitted humbly. 

“Me neither,” he hummed. “I was studying to become a healer, but tuition was ridiculously expensive. I’m hoping I can save enough to go back to school after a year or so.”

 Jaemin asked you a few more questions and explained all you needed to know about salary and working hours, before he started showing you how everything worked at the store. The more time you spent with him, the more attractive and charming he seemed and you were having a hard time controlling your breathing whenever he would lean in closer to you to help you reach a top shelf or show you how to look for products on the computer.

 Just when you were wondering how you were going to survive something caught your eye. On one of the back shelves, there was a bright pink little jar, accompanied with a handwritten sign which said ‘Venom; Magenta Dwarf Snake’. You were familiar with that ingredient; it could be lethal, but if used wisely and mixed with the right botanicals and oils, you could create a strong numbing potion. You knew it first hand; when you were a freshman in university, someone very important to you passed away during your finals week. You were devastated, but at that time you were so invested in having a good career that you didn’t have time to grieve. So instead, being the talented potion maker you were, you stole some ingredients from the laboratory and made your own diy numbing potion. It worked almost immediately, replacing the pain with nothingness; in fact, you felt absolutely nothing for as long as the effect lasted and you kept drinking the potion until your exams finished.

 It wouldn’t hurt to numb your body a bit if that helped you resist Jaemin’s charm while finding a different job. Honestly, you had never felt such a strong desire for anyone; your pulse was fast, your brain could barely function, and your knees would get weak whenever he said your name. You were terrified. What if he really had imprinted on you?

No.That whole wolves mating with humans thing was bullshit. You wouldn’t fall for that again. 

 But by the time your shift was over and Jaemin bid you goodbye,your silly heart already protesting at the idea of separation, you knew you couldn’t resist him. At least not naturally. 

Luckily, you had managed to slide one of the tiny pink jars in your pocket. So when you showed up for work the next day your pulse was so stable you could barely feel it, the serenity that took over you was almost monotonous and no butterflies tickled your belly when Jaemin smiled at you.

 “Need some help over here?” he asked you when he saw you standing on your tippy toes to reach a shelf, standing very close behind you, until you could feel his breath on your neck. 

“Nope. I’m good,” you replied without even acknowledging the invasion of your personal space. 

Jaemin was taken aback for a second. He couldn’t pick up any trace of nervousness, nor could he smell the sweet scent of desire that you wouldn’t be able to hide whenever he got close to you. It was completely different to what he experienced the day before, and he didn’t like it. So he decided to step up his game.

“You sure?” he insisted, his fingers tracing your arms playfully, which backfired, making his own pulse accelerate. “Wouldn’t want my pretty assistant getting hurt.”

“I’ll be fine,” you said, breaking away from his touch and moving to organize the next shelf, leaving a stunned Jaemin behind. 

 And just like that, months of you working at the apothecary passed and you found it was incredibly easy to work with Jaemin when you couldn’t feel a thing. 

 Jaemin, however, seemed frustrated and unsatisfied with each of your interactions. You weren’t mean to him or anything; you were polite and kind, but there seemed to be no emotion in your eyes and that tormented him everyday. 

He had tried to have deeper conversations with you, but you avoided him every time, or gave him short and vague answers. He wasn’t even trying to flirt with you anymore; he understood that you had a mate and were not interested in him, but he still wanted to be close to you. Just when he thought there was no hope for him, mother nature stepped in to help.

“Y/N, just go home!” he sighed exasperatedly. “I don’t want you here when the typhoon hits; it’s dangerous.”

“I’m good,” you shrugged. “How bad can it be? Besides today we were supposed to receive the ingredients we orde-”

 You were interrupted by a loud noise coming from outside; something that sounded like thunder mixed with heavy winds and some distant screams.

“I don’t think the order will arrive today…,” he pointed out.

 You bit your lip, starting to feel just a tiny taste of anxiety building up. The truth was, you were out of numbing potion. You had drunk the last bit in the morning and you could feel it wearing off, so you really needed that order to arrive today and you needed to be there to receive it. 

 “It’s too late to go home now anyways,” you sighed as you both approached the door to peek outside.

“I guess we’ll both be staying here until it calms down,” he hummed and proceeded to secure all the doors and windows. 

“Both of us?!” you yelped, suddenly very aware of how bad the situation was. 

Jaemin looked at you, surprised at what was the first trace of  emotion he had been able to detect coming from you in a while. “Uh-yeah?”

“I-I don’t think it’s that bad yet,” you tried to argue and thinking that if you weren’t going to get your potion today, then it was better to go home than being stuck with Jaemin. “I’ll just run home,” you declared, grabbing your jacket and heading to the door, but a strong grip on your arm stopped you.

 “J-jaemin-,” you pleaded as you started to feel abnormally warm where his skin touched yours. 

“Oh, so now you want to leave?” he asked in disbelief. “You should have listened to me before. It’s too dangerous now. I won’t let you go out there,” he said, pulling you closer to him with ease.

 Miraculously, you suppressed the whine that his words caused, but you couldn’t hide the effect he had on you for much longer. 

“What’s gotten into you today?” Jaemin asked, concerned. “Are you not feeling well?”

“I’m f-fine! I’m good I just need to-gotta lie d-down,” you mumbled and regretted it immediately when he curled his toned arms around you and picked you up, carrying you to the back room. “J-jaemin, I can walk!”

“You can’t,” he debated. “You think I didn’t see the way your legs trembled?”

 You groaned and he finally laid you down on the sofa, staring at you curiously when you immediately put your shaky hands on his shoulders and tried to push him away. He stood up slowly and walked towards the kitchenette.

“I’ll make you some coffee,” he offered, reaching for the milk and sugar that he kept in there ever since he learned your drink preference. You said nothing, your breath starting to pick up its pace.

 Jaemin offered you the mug but you scurried further away in the couch as if you were terrified of him. 

“Okay, Y/N, you’re scaring me…,” he murmured, starting to panic at your agitated state. 

“A-away-,” you whimpered. “J-just stay away, p-please.”

Jaemin moved to the other side of the room obediently, placing the mug on the kitchen counter. It pained him that you didn’t want him near you, but he hated seeing you so disturbed.

 When you were sure he was far enough, you reached for your purse and clumsily took out your homemade potion jar.Maybe there was some potion remaining at the bottom? Even if it was one drop, you needed it. But your hands were sweating and shaking and it fell from your hands, rolling on the floor all the way to Jaemin’s feet. You gasped, but it was too late; Jaemin had grabbed the flask and was glaring at it suspiciously. 

“What is this?” he asked you sternly.

“J-jaemin, give it back,” you begged.

“What.is.this?” he insisted, his tone harsh.

“Medicine! It’s m-medicine, I need it-,” you mumbled but you wouldn’t be able to fool someone with that much knowledge about potions and medicine.

“With this scent?” he asked, sniffing at the flask. “I don’t think so,” he said as he opened it and hit the bottom of the jar until a single drop landed on his finger. Without hesitation, he placed his finger on the tip of his tongue and waited for a few seconds, before his eyes landed on you again, reprimanding you silently.

“Numbing potion,” he said. “How long have you been drinking this?”

You shook your head and looked away, afraid of the effect his eyes only had on you.

“A few days? Weeks?” he insisted, growing more concerned each second.

You squeezed your eyes closed and refused to give him an answer, but he was clever enough to put two and two together. 

“It’s been months, hasn’t it?” he asked fearfully. “W-why?! Do you know how dangerous it is?”

“I’ve had it before,” you defended yourself. “I know what I’m d-doing,”

“For this long?!”

“N-no, but…”

“Y/N this is meant to be used very short term! Once you stop drinking the potion, you’ll feel everything you were repressing at once-are you insane?!”

“I know!” you finally snapped. “But I needed it okay?”

“What could be so bad that it made you not want to feel anything?!” he asked exasperatedly.

Again, you didn’t say anything. As if you could admit that you needed a potion so you wouldn’t be on your knees for Jaemin every time you saw him.

 “Is it your boyfriend?” he asked angrily, even though he hated even bringing him up.

 You shook your head and sobbed a little. 

Jaemin furrowed his eyebrows. 

“Are you sure? Because something about this relationship is definitely off,” he walked towards you slowly, ignoring your pleads for him to stay away. “He has never picked you up from work, never calls you, hell I can’t even smell him on you.”

You stood up with difficulty and hid behind the sofa, your figure trembling against the wall as Jaemin got closer to you.

“Does he not treat you well?” Jaemin insisted, his instincts telling him to protect you from whoever was hurting you. “Y/N, tell me, I’ll kill him-”

“THERE’S NO BOYFRIEND!” You finally yelled. 

Jaemin stopped moving and stared at you wide-eyed. You pulled your hair and groaned.

“...What? B-but your neck-”

“My ex,” you confess, and it feels like it lifted a weight off of you. “He told me I was his mate and I believed him because I didn’t know shit about werewolves, and then one day he tells me he was just confused and he had met his real mate and he fucking ‘apologised for the missunderstanding’,” you made quotation marks with your fingers and scoffed the last words with a very poor imitation of what your ex’s voice sounded like. “That fucking- ugh! But that was way before I moved here. I’m over that asshole,” you groaned.

Jaemin couldn’t comprehend a single thing you were saying. It was too much, too fast.

“Then why were you drinking th-?” he asked dumbfounded.

“Because of you!” you whined. “You and your pretty face, and your charming smile, your smooth voice, your fucking hot body- just- you! You make me feel so weird and want to bounce on your dick as soon as I see you- so fucking annoying!”

Jaemin’s mouth hung open in shock and confusion. He then chuckled humorlessly and poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, shaking his head.

“Come here,” he ordered.

 You shivered and felt dizzy at the command, but refused to give in. “N-no.”

“You can’t say all that shit and expect me to control myself, Y/N,” he growled. “Come here.”

“I don’t wanna be m-mated to you,” you argued.

“So you knew,” he whispered. “You knew I imprinted on you,” Jaemin’s eyes were gleaming maliciously now. He was furious. 

“So what?” you defied him even though you were dying to kiss him, your feelings getting more intense than ever. “You could just be confused too. Your feelings can change just like his-”

 Jaemin snarled and hastily reached for you, firmly grabbing your hands and pinning them to the wall. 

“Don’t compare me to that piece of shit,” he threatened. “We are not the same. We don’t feel the same. And whatever you felt for him, doesn’t even come close to what I’m about to make you feel.”

 You wanted to fight it, but you were overwhelmed with emotions. Now that the potion was wearing off, everything you had been keeping in was consuming you. You were craving Jaemin more than anything.

“Understood?” Jaemin hummed almost sweetly against your lips, but the promise of a threat was still there so you nodded. “Good. Now we’re going to ride out the side effects of your stupid choices together, hm?”

 Before you could answer, he was kissing you harshly, releasing all the pent up desire that he had to repress because of you. He bit your lip, and slid his tongue into your mouth, moaning at the wet sensation mixed with your little whines. He pressed his body against you, his firm pecs rubbing your nipples and you broke away from the kiss, moaning loudly. 

“Oh? But I haven’t done anything yet, have I?” Jaemin teased you. “Is this because of that dumb potion you took?”

 You bit your lip, but more moans came out of you as Jaemin slid his thigh in between your legs and flexed it a little. 

“Yeah, you like that?” he panted against your lips. “Is my baby sensitive?”

 You nodded and tried to stand on your tippy toes to put some distance between his thigh and your center but he grasped your hips and pressed you harshly against him again, making you moan desperately. 

“Nuh-uh,” he warned. “My baby drank something bad, yeah? The only way to feel better is to let it all out.”

“J-jaemin, please,” you begged, pushing your now free hands against his chest. “It’s too much.”

“But you’re sick, Y/N,” he cooed with a fake sweet tone as he forced you to ride his thigh. “We need to treat it as soon as possible to make you feel better.” 

“T-too hot,” you complained. The air was getting suffocating and your body was taking revenge for all the time you had it on autopilot mode. 

“Oh, poor thing,” he uttered as he started unbuttoning your shirt. He successfully unbuttoned the first three buttons before he lost his patience and ripped it open, the remaining buttons landing somewhere on the floor. “Let me help you,” he whispered before he pulled your bra down enough to expose your breasts and used his fingertips to tease your hardened nipples. 

 “Jaemin! Oh!” you whimpered and squirmed against his hold, trying to run away from the stimulation, but he just laughed at you.

“Why did you stop riding me, Y/N?” he asked like he was reproaching a naughty child’s behavior. His hands went back to your hips and he forced you to move back and forward, rubbing against your clit, while he used his mouth to toy with your nipples instead. “You need to start listening to me if you want to get better.”

“B-but it’s-ah! Feels too-,” you gasped at the recognizable feeling of an orgasm starting to build up, you tried to push him away again, feeling like it was too much and not enough at the same time, but your strength couldn’t compare to his and he hummed around the nipple he was sucking at the way your body trembled and moved you faster against him, bouncing his knee slightly until you tensed in his arms and you let out the most alluring moan he had heard so far.  

He kept moving your lax body to ride out your orgasm, enjoying the warmth coming from you, and before you had any time to recover, he slid one of his hands under your skirt and into your panties, groaning and cursing at how wet you were.

 You winced and tried to squirm away when he stroked your clit and he chuckled against your lips, kissing you sweetly but firmly. 

“Too sensitive?” he asked as if your answer mattered at this point.

“Y-yes,” you hissed, still trying to push him away.That first orgasm had helped clear your mind a little, but you still felt incredibly affected by Jaemin. “No more.”

“Mmm,” he pouted as he pretended to think about your petition. “But I can’t stop now, Y/N. I’m doing this to make you feel better, but I also have to punish you.”

“P-punish me?” you asked apprehensively. 

“Of course. You’ve been bad,” he replied as if it was obvious. “That first orgasm was for drinking something bad for your body,” he said as he kissed your cheek. “The next one will be for stealing shit from the store,” he continued as his mouth traveled down your jaw. “And all the others will be for every fucking lie you’ve said to my face.”

 You shivered, intimidated and shook your head, your eyes pleading that he let you rest and you could talk about everything later. 

“But first,” he said, licking at your neck. “I need to get rid of this mark. It makes my blood boil.”

“NO!” you yelled, hitting his arms and chest. It wasn’t your  weak attack what stopped him; but the pure terror in your voice. 

“Y/N?” Jaemin called your name tenderly, caressing your hair carefully and removing his knee from its previous position to give you some space. “Did he-...did it hurt when he bit you?”

You nodded quickly. “S-so much…bled for so long- still h-hurts sometimes.”

Jaemin cursed under his breath, adding something that sounded like ‘I’ll fucking kill him.’

“Y/N,” he called again. “Baby,” he added to make you finally look at him. “It hurt because he tried to force a bond with someone who wasn’t meant for him and your body rejected it,” he explained delicately. “I am not him. I won’t hurt you.”

“B-but if you bite me, it will hurt,” you sobbed.

“It won’t. Because we are already connected. The bite just seals the deal.”

“...You promise?” you asked, apprehensively.

“I promise,” he said, eyes landing on your neck as he licked his lips. “Actually, I’ve heard that it feels quite…delightful.” 

 You shuddered under his predatory stare and he groaned in anticipation. You closed your eyes and waited for him to fulfill his promise but the stinging pain never came; instead you felt his warm fingers under your skirt and sliding your panties down slowly. Your eyes snapped open and looked down to see Jaemin kneeling in front of you, discharging your panties somewhere on the floor and moving his hands up your thighs slowly. 

“Jaemin?”

“Hmm?” he asked, placing an open kiss on your inner thigh. 

“Aren’t you going to b-bite me?” you panted as his wet kisses came closer to your pussy. 

“Oh, I will,” he purred before placing a slow, wet kiss right on your clit, making you moan. “But I want you to relax first.”

“H-how am I supposed to-ooh!” you sighed when he ran his tongue up and down your slit slowly, his red eyes staring back at you. He made out with your pussy lazily, moaning against you and creating patterns with his tongue until your legs were trembling and your hips moved against his face, looking for more.

“Fuck,” he growled between licks, sliding his tongue into you and fucking you with it just as slow, relishing on the way your walls contracted around the wet muscle. “Taste so fucking good,” he grunted.

“Oh my god, Jaemin,” you moaned needily, rotating your hips and pulling at his hair.

“Yeah? Feels good?” he chuckled before moving back to your clit, giving it teasing licks. “I know it does, baby. Let it all out.”

 “S-so good, Jae-oh!” your brows furrowed when his tongue drew circles around your clit faster and you couldn’t help but pull his hair harder in an attempt to feel him as close to you as possible. He moaned and his eyes rolled back, allowing you to rut against him as he sucked on your bundle of nerves viciously. “Jaemin, Jaemin, Jae-ah! Ah! Oh god, Jaem-Aah fuuuck!” you screamed, releasing in his mouth. He grunted against you and continued helping you ride the remains of your orgasm until his body shivered brutally and he let out a moan with his mouth still attached to you, vibrations prolonging your pleasure. You stared at him bewildered when he finally detached himself from you and panted heavily. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, his legs trembling slightly when he stood up. “Shit, that was…”

“Did you-...did you just-?” you asked even though the dark stain on his pants made it very obvious; he had come untouched while eating you out. 

“Mm, yeah” he mumbled and let out a breathless laugh. “I didn’t even know I could- wow…”

Wow was one way to put it.

“That’s…so fucking hot,” you whispered, dropping on your knees and your hands landed on his jeans, easily unbuttoning it and lowering the zipper.

“Are you sure you want to do that, baby?” Jaemin spoke in a low voice. “You don’t have to,” he insisted even though his eyes were begging you to. 

“I want to,” you said, pulling his pants and boxers down hastily. “I really want to” you confessed as you stopped fighting the lust that took over you, followed with a gasp when you found yourself facing his still hard dick. “F-fuck…so big…”

Jaemin dashed an arrogant smirk and opened his mouth, probably to say something teasing but his cocky demeanor was immediately wiped out when your tongue lapped the base of his cock. He couldn’t think of anything clever to say and just stood there breathless, following each of your moves attentively. When you reached the tip and gave it a soft suck, he let out a shaky breath, bending his body slightly over your figure and placing the palms of his hands on the wall for support. 

“Are you still mad at me?” you asked suddenly, pouting a little at the idea of upsetting him. Jaemin’s cock twitched in your hand at the view of you on your knees with such an innocent expression, and he almost forgot why he was mad in the first place. Almost.

“I am,” he choked out when you squeezed him in your hand and moved your hand up and down. using his own cum as lubricant. “F-fuck, I- of course I am, Y/N-You made m-me feel like shit for- ohh… for m-months- who even lies about something like that for t-that long? That’s kinda psycho…”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, without stopping the movement of your hand. “I-I was scared…”

 Ah shit, Jaemin couldn’t stay mad when you looked like that.

“I k-now you w-were,baby b-but- aaah! shiiit,” he moaned when your mouth was back on his tip. “No more lying- oh!...from now on, kay?”

 You hummed and started bobbing your head slowly, taking what you could and jerking the rest off with your hands. His moans were so captivating, it soon made you go faster to listen to as many as you could. Jaemin was slowly losing his mind, abdomen contracting and his hips chasing your mouth involuntarily until your head backed against the wall. 

“Yeah, baby- like that, take it j-just like that ah! aah!” he moaned. He rested his forehead against the wall and both his hands traveled down to hold onto each side of your head, like he was afraid you would move away; which was impossible considering you were sandwiched between him and the wall. His hips stuttered and he started fucking into your mouth messily, growling in delight whenever you choked and your throat contracted around him.

“Should I knot your pretty mouth, Y/N?” his sudden question made you look up at him. Something about the way he managed to smile sadistically between pants and the wild glint in his eyes told you he was absolutely serious. “That way no more lies would come out of it, hmm?”

 You tried to shake your head and babble incoherent complaints around him but that only brought him more pleasure, his moans escalating and his thrusts speeding up. “Shit, Y/N- you d-drive me crazy, I swear- oooh fuck, fuck-”

 You closed your eyes and tried to relax your jaw for whatever was gonna come, but Jaemin pulled away from you abruptly. You opened your eyes and looked up at him questioningly. He simply shook his head, the visible veins bulging in his neck and his heavy breathing showing how hard he was trying to control himself. 

“D-did I do it wrong?” you asked, feeling self conscious. Of course, Jaemin was probably used to great sex and mediocre wouldn’t do. You couldn’t even deepthroat him properly-

“No,” he huffed, interrupting your intrusive thoughts. “God, no- but I already wasted a load of cum earlier,” he groaned, before stepping out of his pants and ruined boxers and helping you stand up, guiding you to the couch. The way he sat down and manspreaded nonchalantly was the total opposite of how he carefully brought you closer, situating your legs on each side of his hips and sitting you on his lap. “Wanna cum inside of you,” he declared, before kissing you sensually, leaving no room for discussion. 

 His hands were all over your body, caressing your body hotly and only separating himself from you shortly to take his shirt off swiftly, while you got rid of your own blouse and bra, leaving you on your wrinkled skirt only. 

 Jaemin kissed your collarbone and lifted your skirt enough for his cock to make direct contact with your wet pussy, making both of you moan lewdly. 

“Hold on tight,” he half teased, half warned you as he grabbed his dick and rubbed it against your pussy lips, collecting your wetness, before pressing the tip into you carefully.

“J-jaemin,” you called him, alarmed.

“Shh… I’m gonna make you mine now,” he hushed you as he proceeded to press more insistently.

“Oh! But-” you tried speaking between moans. “I don’t think it’s gonna f-fit-ngh!”

“Of course it will,” he said almost automatically, mesmerized by the way your pussy sucked his tip in. “We are meant to be together- shit, I- this dick was made for this pussy,” he uttered in between grunts. “Will feel so fucking good.”

He kissed you sweetly as if to distract you from the discomfort. You sighed while he praised you and massaged your clit gently, until he was completely buried inside of you. You moaned erotically at the feeling; not only it had been so long since you last  slept with someone, but this was Jaemin, the man you were crazy about since day one, and the side effects of the potion had you feeling every sensation multiplied ten times.

 Jaemin’s mouth was hanging open in pleasure as his hands held onto your waist roughly, surely leaving bruises behind, without taking his eyes away from yours.

“See?” he choked out, his voice cracking a little. “Fits like a glove,” he insisted before moving you up slowly and sliding you down again, his eyes fighting to stay open at the feeling. 

“So f-fuh…so full,” you muttered, too overwhelmed to talk properly and driving Jaemin crazy.

“Yeah?” he licked his lips, lifting you again and dropping you on his cock harder, eliciting a moan from both of you. “F-feel me deep inside of y-you?”

“Mhmm,” you nodded dumbly, letting him bounce you on his cock. “S-so deep…”

 Jaemin was far from the gentleman he wanted to be, he was already so close to his orgasm since you blew him and knew he would cum anytime soon, so he couldn’t help but to be a bit rough with you, lifting you until barely the tip was inside you, before pushing you down firmly. He wanted to hear your moans forever. And he wanted to be the only one. 

“I’m still m-mad at you, Y/N,” he suddenly said, taking you out of your pleasurable trance and making you stare at him wide eyed, mumbling soft apologies while gasping and whining. “You gave t-that bastard everything that was supposed to be m-mine only,” he accused, at the same time his cock hit a spot inside of you that made your eyes roll back and shiver.

“S-sorry,” you stuttered while his tip assaulted that special place that had your head spinning. “Ss…so sor-aaah!” you moaned out loud when his fingers found your clit once more and pressed against it harshly, making you reach another orgasm abruptly. 

“Mmm, an apology won’t d-do,” he grunted as he made you ride him faster in spite of your sensitive state. “If you w-want me to forgive you, you gotta-aah fuuck,” he tried to keep up his intimidating facade while his member jerked inside of your contracting walls. “You gotta give me-mmm… fuck yes, give me something he didn’t g-get.”

“I- I d-on’t know w-what…” you mumbled unintelligently as he chuckled darkly, bringing you closer to him to whisper something in your ear that made you gasp at the same time he reached another orgasm and came inside of you with an erotic moan. Too distracted by everything that happened at the same time, you didn’t even notice him approaching your neck and biting harshly, covering your previous mark.

 You stopped breathing and your heart froze in terror, but the expected pain never came. Insteadyou felt a warm bliss, starting where his lips met your skin and spreading from head to toes. You had never felt something like that; it was a sensation as strong and pleasurable as any orgasm.

“O-oh god,” you panted heavily as Jaemin gave your neck a couple of licks and pulled away to look at you. “We’re m-mated?” you asked incredulously.

“Mhmm,” he purred, kissing your lips tenderly. “Did it hurt?”

“...No,” you admitted, quite surprised.

“Told you,” he said simply. “Now, ready to give me what you owe me?”

“Uh, y-yeah about that…Jaemin-,” you stuttered nervously when you remembered exactly what he had suggested before his orgasm hit. 

‘Let me get you pregnant,’ he had whispered hotly against your ear before losing himself in pleasure. 

 Without even paying attention to your words, Jaemin lifted you from his lap, voicing an annoyed grunt when some of his cum slid down your thighs and mumbling something about ‘knotting you next round’ before he placed you on the couch on all fours and positioned himself behind you, his dick still hard at the thought of breeding you.

“J-jaemin!” you called as he entered you again without hesitation. You looked back at him and he stared at you, giving you the chance to speak. “A-are you sure it’s a g-good idea to-”

“Yes,” he hissed, pulling out and thrusting back into you roughly, making you moan and arch your back more for him. “I think it’s a very good idea.”

“B-but,” you weakly complained while he set a steady rhythm with his hips. “w-we… it’s our f-first ti-aah! t-time together, we- ooh Jaem-aah! We just m-mated- AH!” you yelped when you felt a sharp pain on your ass cheek.

“So?” he asked, giving you another harsh slap and thrusting into you harder. “We could have been doing this for months if it wasn’t for your foolish idea.”

 You gasped, a bit offended at his words, but you knew he was right. You had wasted so much precious time and ended up only postponing the inevitable. 

“Don’t worry, Y/N,” he whispered against your ear, before placing one of his hand on your neck and the other around your waist, lifting your upper body from the couch to hold you against him, his thrusts reaching deeper inside of you. “I’ll take c-care of you,” he promised with a growl as the base of his cock started expanding and he pistoned harder into you. 

 Your eyes rolled back when he managed to push his still growing knot inside of you, now moving your hips back into his as he panted animalistically, licking and nibbling proudly at the fresh mark on your neck. 

“Shit,” he grunted when one of his hands caressed your lower belly and he felt his dick forming a visible bump repeatedly every time he pushed inside of you. “Shit, b-baby, yes!- gonna-.... gonna fill y-you up so good,” he moaned incoherently, his hips stuttering as he fucked you brutally. “gonna f-fuck you until it t-takes-... make s-sure you’re full of m-me ah! oh fuck, baby, fuck, fuck-!”

 He held you against him desperately, making you both lose balance and falling into the couch, him on top of him rutting against you maniacally, all coherent thoughts left his brain to be replaced by the need to impregnate you.

 You moaned loudly when another orgasm took over you due to your clit constantly chafing against the material of the couch, tears streaming down your cheek as he cooed at you and licked them, without ever stopping his hips’ movements. 

“You’re gonna l-look so fuh-...fucking good, baby oh!” he continued, as his knot inflated enough to keep him in place, limiting him to shallow quick humps. “Everyone w-will know w-who gave it to you t-this good, huh? So full with c-cum and babies- Hah- ah! ah, fuck yes, baby, take it, take it-take it! Oooohh!” he groaned as he finally stilled himself on top of you, releasing what would be a ridiculous amount of cum considering he had already cummed before. 

 You tried to calm down as Jaemin slowly came back to his senses, kissing your shoulder gently as an apology for his roughness. Not that you were mad about it; you had never felt this good in your life.

“Y/N?” he mumbled, caressing the areas of your body where small bruises were starting to form.

“Hmm?” you vaguely answered.

“No more lies. I mean it,” he meant it to be a warning, but it sounded more like a plea. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeated as you let him embrace you and shift your bodies into a more comfortable position. “Jaemin?” you called this time.

“Yeah?” he mumbled sleepily.

“What happens if I do get pregnant?” you didn’t want to ruin the moment, but at some point it had to be addressed. 

“...What do you mean ‘if’?” he asked, almost a bit offended. “I will get you pregnant. We still have many rounds to go.”

“M-many rounds-,” you repeated startled. “What?!”

“I told you, didn’t I? One orgasm for each lie you said to my face,” he repeated, kissing the mark on your neck and making you tremble in his arms.

“I-I didn’t tell that many lies!” you defend yourself.

“You said the same lie many times, same thing,” he shrugged. “Plus it’s not really a punishment… or are you going to tell me you didn’t enjoy it?”

 You moaned softly when his hands started massaging your breasts, his knot deflating as an indication that things were about to get rough again. You hid a smile as you melted into his touch, allowing yourself to admit that you did enjoy it and that there was more to enjoy for the night and the rest of your lives.

Whoever said moving to a new city wasn’t the solution was so wrong.

[bloatedandalone04]

In The Way I Need You | Part 7

Series Masterlist

➪in which clay tries to make amends with you, and you become even closer with joey.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 4.6k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Clay tried to bathe Joey as quickly as he could, because he knew you could walk out at any second. He wouldn’t be surprised if you skipped out on your payment again tonight and left while he was getting Joey ready for bed. He wouldn’t even blame you.

“Goodnight, buddy,” he said softly as he kissed Joey’s forehead. “I love you.”

He was asleep before Clay even left the room, making him tug off his tie with shaky fingers as he quickly headed towards the stairs.

God, he hoped you stayed. You didn’t say you would, but you also didn’t leave right away like he was sure you were going to. That was a good sign, right?

When he descended the stairs and saw you still sitting on the couch, he let out a sigh of relief before entering the room and moving to sit next to you, making sure to leave some space between you. “I’m happy you stayed,” 

You trace the tip of your tongue along the backs of your upper teeth, and Clay struggled to keep his eyes locked on yours as you say, “I thought about leaving as soon as you went upstairs,” 

Your confession, though it was one he expected, still had him feeling awful about what he did and said about you. “I’m really sorry,” he started. “I didn’t mean those things I said about you to my mother. It’s just…she’s..” He wasn’t sure where he was trying to go with this, and you clearly weren’t in the mood for excuses as you huffed and reached for your bag again.

“I get it. You don’t want your mom finding out you kissed the babysitter because she probably thinks of me as just a kid. Maybe you both do,” you mumbled and stood up. “Let’s just both be professional until I can find another job.”

Clay’s eyes widened at that as he stood up quickly, too. “What? You’re looking for another job?” When you nod at him, he asks, “Why?”

You laugh and place your bag onto your shoulder again. “I obviously can’t keep working for you since we went way over the professional aspect of our relationship. And you think I’m just some immature kid,” you bitterly recall the conversation he had with his mom yesterday. “I’m twenty, so nothing can happen between us, right?” 

Clay closed his eyes tightly at the reminder of all the lies he said in order to get his mother off his case. He didn’t mean any of it, he just needed to say something that would give him time to think things through, and he knew now that he did want you. He knew that before, he just didn’t know what to do about it. “No,” he answered and you squint your eyes at him. “I like you, Y/n. I have since the minute I met you.” 

You look away from him quickly and cross your arms. “We don’t know anything about each other, Clay,” you point out, but he was just happy you didn’t call him Mr. Beresford again. 

“I want to know everything about you,” he said and watched with guilty eyes as you tense up a bit in a way to guard yourself from him. He hated it, but he understood why you were so hesitant around him right now. 

When you finally meet his gaze, you sigh, “Clay,”

“I mean it,” he promised and sat back down again. He looked up at you as things were completely in your control at the moment, and you both knew it. “You’re not a kid, and I don’t think you’re immature. You’re actually one of the most mature people I’ve ever met.”

You drop your arms to your sides as you ask, “Then why did you say all of that stuff to your mom about me? And don’t give me some dumb excuse, or else I’ll leave right now,”

Clay nodded quickly, “My mother has always been really protective over me and who I give my heart to since it hasn’t worked properly for most of my life. When I met Joey’s mom, I didn’t think things through and I rushed that relationship, leaving me a single dad before I even reached my thirties,” 

Your hard gaze softens and you sit down next to him again, unknowingly giving him more confidence to continue his embarrassing backstory. 

“She tried to warn me about marrying her and starting a life with her since she was so sure Sam just wanted me for money. Then she got pregnant and stayed with me for about twelve more months after that and then I never saw her again,” he hated talking about Sam since the signs were so clearly there, he just never realized them until it was too late. It made him feel like an idiot for ever thinking she truly loved him. “I was depressed for months after and I had to take care of Joey by myself for the most part. My mom had to watch me spiral for a long time before I finally realized that Sam wasn’t coming back. I know she doesn’t want me to go back to how I was when Sam left me. She’s more protective over my heart than I am, but you already knew that since she told you about my condition less than an hour after meeting you.” 

A small, barely-there smile forms on your lips before you look away and play with the bracelet on your wrist. “I know she’s protective over you, Clay,” you agree. “But that doesn’t explain why you said all that stuff about me. You sounded so serious when you said that us falling asleep together will never happen again and that nothing is going on between us when I thought there was.”

“There is,” he stated firmly, glancing down when he felt your knee brush against his. “There is something between us. I only said there wasn’t because I don’t want to have my mother be so invested in another relationship of mine. Maybe she was right about the first one, but I know what I want now. It’s you.” 

Clay watches as a blush forms on your face before you break eye contact again. “How am I supposed to believe you?” You ask and Clay thinks about it for a second before he gets up, making you glance over at him. 

“Stay here,” he requested, waiting until you gave him a confused nod before going back upstairs and walking straight to his nightstand. He grabbed the sticky note you had left for him the first night you babysat Joey before quickly heading back down. When he walked back into the living room, he saw how your pretty eyes gazed up at him in interest as he sat next to you again. “Here.”

He holds out the note and watches as realization takes over your features and how your lips curve up into a smile. “For the coolest kid’s dad,” you read the note after taking it from him, holding it as if it was the most fragile letter you’ve ever read. “You kept it.”

“It’s been stuck to my alarm clock since the first night you watched Joey,” he said and was powerless to fight the grin that formed on his lips when you turned your head to look over at him.

“I can’t believe you kept it,” you murmur in disbelief. 

Clay had initially felt dumb for keeping it, since it was just a simple note you left him alongside the dinner you set aside for him, but the look you were giving him right now had him feeling nothing short of amazing. He was glad he went back for it after he threw it away when he came to the realization that he was into you. “Well, it meant a lot to me at the time,” he shrugged. “Means a lot to me now. And so do you.”

Your eyes stared into his as if you were trying to figure out if he was being truthful or not. He knew he was, and so did you as after you set the note aside, you take his hand in your smaller one and give him a conflicted smile. “Okay, so I guess I believe you,” 

Clay laughed and ran this thumb along your knuckles. “Good, because I have and will always take you and us seriously,”

Your smile grows as you ask, “So we’re doing this?” 

He laces his fingers with yours and nods. “We’re doing this,” he confirmed and leaned back against the couch, pulling you with him. You snuggle against his side and rest your head on his chest as your fingers play with his. “And I mean it, I want to know everything about you.”

You smile up at him. “Like what?” 

Clay shrugged, “I don’t know, anything. What’s your favorite food? Color? What pet did you have growing up?”

Laughing loudly, you turn and pull your hand out of his so you can drape his arm around your shoulders instead. “Wow, those questions are very personal,” you tease as you tangle your fingers with his again. “Food…probably pizza, shocker, I know. Color, blue. And my parents never let me get a pet when I was a kid. Unless you count a fish I won at a fair I went to with my friend and her family that my mom flushed as soon as I walked through the door.”

Clay raised his brows as he tried to hold back a smile. “Wow, uh,” he trailed off. “Poor fish?”

You shake your head, “Poor fish,”

Clay kind of wanted to ask you about your family, but from what he already knew about them, you’re not close anymore. They were the reason you moved to Brooklyn by yourself, and were the reason you had to fend for yourself for most of your life. 

He’ll let you tell him more about them if and when you’re ready to.

The time passed by quickly after that, and just as you lean up to kiss him, the front door opens and closes, and Clay sighs as he hears his mother’s footsteps ascend the stairs. 

You stand up quickly and grab your bag again as you move a few feet away. Lilith enters the living room a few seconds later and looks between the two of you with an unreadable expression, and her brows raise as Clay stands up as well. “Hi, Mrs. Beresford,” you greet her with a small smile, and Clay was grateful for the fact that you didn’t force him to announce that you and he are…together? Is that what you were? Unofficially, of course, but you knew you wanted each other, and that was enough for now. 

Fuck, he hasn’t even asked you out on a date yet. 

That will be next on his to do list. 

“Hello, Y/n,” she says back and looks over at Clay. “Have you been home long, sweetheart?” 

He knew what she was doing. She was trying to see if you and him had been talking for long before she got home, and he refused to give in and prove her right. “No, only a few minutes,” 

He’d been home for well over an hour now, but she didn’t need to know that. 

“Yeah, I was just leaving,” you add and step around her. “I got an early morning tomorrow.”

Lilith nodded as Clay moved to stand next to you after discreetly grabbing the sticky note and putting it in his pocket. “I’ll walk you out,” he offered and watched as you fought off a smile all the way down to the front door. “So…early morning tomorrow? Is that true or are you secretly a really good liar?”

You reach the bottom of the stairs and turn to him with a tight smile. “It’s actually true,” you tell him and he notices that you weren’t smiling like you were a minute ago. You looked nervous as you added, “I have a job interview tomorrow.”

That wiped Clay’s smile off his own face as he stepped closer to you. “Oh,”

“I can cancel it,” you quickly say but he shakes his head. 

“No, you don’t have to,” he said back, taking your hands in his. “I want you to keep babysitting, but I also don’t want you to feel weird about me paying you now that we’re…you know.”

“Oh, you can’t pay me anymore, Clay,” you inform him. “I refuse to receive payments from the guy I’m seeing, or…whatever.”

Clay laughed, “Okay, so…go to that interview then,”

You tug on his hands a bit as you walk backwards towards the door. “I’ll miss you and Joey too much if I get a new job, though,” 

Clay hummed, the smile returning to his lip at your words. “Okay….well, I can usually handle the kid just fine on my own in the mornings, so maybe you can ask for the day shift? Then you can hang out with Joey after. Or maybe find a weekend job? Eitherway, Joey and I would miss you, too, if we didn’t get to see you as often as we do now.”

You smile your pretty smile up at him before you both lean in and close the distance. Clay’s hands grip onto either side of your face while yours trail up his back before gripping his neck and pulling him closer to you. He felt his heartbeat quicken at the small noise you made as he pressed you against the door, and he knew he would be playing it on repeat until he saw you again. 

Your fingers tangle in his hair as you pull away but keep your face close to his. “I should go,” you murmur, your lips brushing against his with every word. “Your mom might get suspicious.”

Clay nods, pressing another deep kiss to your lips before pulling away and opening the door for you. 

“I’ll wait, Clay,” you say quietly as you step out onto the stone steps. “I know you’re not ready to tell your mom, and maybe it’s too early to say this, but I’ll wait until you are.”

Clay gives you a grateful smile before stepping forward and kissing you one last time. “Text me when you get home,” he requested and you nod, giving him a wave as you step out onto the dark street.

-

You had a dumb smile on your face the whole way back home, and you knew it wasn’t going away anytime soon

Clay liked you back. He wanted to be with you in the way you want to be with him. You were sure you’re dreaming, and you didn’t want to wake up any time soon.

You were feeling giddy as you set your bag down onto your bed before sitting next to it and pulling out your phone. 

I’m home and haven’t been able to stop smiling yet.

Clay Beresford: That makes two of us. I’ll see you tomorrow? 

Definitely. I only like you for your cute kid, anyway.

Clay Beresford: I understand, but that still hurts. Goodnight, pretty girl.

You blush at the text and set your phone aside before getting up and heading over to your laptop. You knew now that you didn’t want to get a job that prevented you from babysitting Joey, even if you refused to be paid for it since you were…with Clay? Were you with Clay now? You didn’t even know.

All you knew was that you liked him. A lot. And you liked his son, and you wanted to keep babysitting him when he got home from school. 

You pull up the job offer you responded to and read over the information posted with it. It was a simple cafe job and it had paid training if you get selected for it, and it also had a pretty relaxed schedule. The morning shift and evening shifts were hiring, as well as the weekend shifts.

The morning shift started at seven and went until one in the afternoon, so you’d still be able to pick Joey up from school if you were to get the job. You just wouldn’t have a lot of freetime, but it’s not like you did a whole lot anyway. You were pretty much alone since you moved away from your family and the few friends you kept after graduating high school.

It would be a great distraction from all of it. 

Deciding against canceling your interview for the following morning, you close your laptop again and get ready for bed, a permanent smile stuck on your lips. After completing your night routine, you go back to your bag and take out Joey’s drawing. Placing it on the fridge, you admire the picture for a few seconds before heading back to your room. 

The next morning you were a bit late waking up, leading you to quickly throw on a pair of light jeans and a white tee before grabbing your converse and fleeing your apartment. 

The coffee shop was a few blocks down from your place, so you decided to save money on a cab fare and walk. You were a bit nervous as you sat down and waited for the owner, whose name was Jess, to come out. Your leg was bouncing under the table as you watched the customers come and go, and one looked a bit familiar as she waited for her coffee. You don’t think you have ever seen her before, but something about her seemed….familiar for some reason.

She had light brown hair and dark brown eyes, and when she looked over and smiled at you, you saw that she had perfectly straight white teeth. You felt a bit insecure just looking at her, so you returned the smile before quickly looking away just as Jess sat down across from you. 

Jess had strawberry blonde hair and piercing blue eyes that reminded you of both Clay and Joey’s, and she looked to be around your age, if not a few years older. As the interview went on, you learned that she had a similar backstory as you did, with her leaving her family home at the age of nineteen and opening up her own coffee shop. She used up all the money she’d been saving since she was fourteen and nearly lost it all until the cafe was given a great review that ended up saving her and allowing it to be her official source of income. 

She was really nice and you bonded with her well. You hoped you got the job, but if not, you’d definitely visit and support her business anyway. 

Once the interview was over, you had an hour or so before you had to go pick Joey up from school, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t excited to see both him and Clay. Things were okay again, and even though you couldn’t do anything with Clay in front of his mom right now, you were still looking forward to seeing him once he got home from work. 

While you still didn’t fully understand his situation with his ex and mom, you would keep quiet about it until he felt ready enough to further explain it to you. 

You spent your time going to the nearest grocery store and picking up stuff to make tacos with, wanting to give Joey a bit of a different dinner tonight. After passing by the candy aisle, you think it over for a few seconds before pulling out your phone.

For no specific reason, does Joey like candy? If so, what kind? Once again, for no specific reason at all.

You weren’t expecting him to get back to you so quickly as you browse through possible options, planning on going for the healthiest unhealthy option if he wasn’t able to get back to you for a while.

Clay Beresford: He’s four. Of course he likes candy. Any kind. If you’re planning on getting him some, be prepared for me to pay you back. 

You roll your eyes as you grab some Starbursts and Fun Dip before typing with one hand as you put the items onto the counter. 

Don’t be such a dad. I’m not taking your money ever again. 

Clay Beresford: The dad life chose me. Did you go to that interview? I meant to wish you luck earlier.

You smile at the lady behind the counter as she hands you back a plastic bag before leaving the store and starting the somewhat short walk to Clay’s house.

Yeah, I did. I appreciate it, but your luck wasn’t needed. Pretty sure I was the best candidate she’s had all week. 

Clay Beresford: That’s good…so can Joe and I expect to lose you soon?

You smile at that as you cross the street, the same dumb grin from last night coming back in full swing.

Hopefully not…like I said, I’d miss you too much. Both of you.

Clay Beresford: Hopefully we won’t have to miss you, too.

You assume he went back to work after that as he didn’t reply to your teasing remark, leaving you to pocket your phone as you waited for the time to go by so you could pick Joey up from school. 

An hour passes, and you are currently sitting at the kitchen table beside Joey. He was still telling you all about his day, and when you opened his backpack, you pulled out a few more drawings. One was of him and Clay, another was what you think is a dog and him hinting at something, and the last one was of you and him. 

You hung all of them on the fridge before getting him a snack, which was a simple celery and cheese dip. It felt like no matter how much this kid ate, he was always hungry and didn’t gain a single pound. 

You were in the middle of coloring in a flower when Joey suddenly says, “I wish I had a mom,”

The crayon fell from your fingers as you gazed up at him in surprise. He continued coloring in the lion you had drawn for him, seeming to not realize just how heartbreaking his words actually were. “What?” You couldn’t help but ask, grabbing the crayon again before it could roll off the table. 

“All my friends have a mom,” he answered, looking up at you when he noticed that you had stopped coloring. “They make fun of me for not having one.”

Your brows furrow at that and suddenly you were mad at a bunch of four year olds. “Well, maybe they’re not your real friends if they make fun of you,” you offered and tried to go back to your flower, but you were beginning to feel sad for the poor kid beside you. “And you have your grandma, and your dad. They love you so much, Joey, you don’t really need a mom when you have them.” You weren’t sure if you should be saying that, but you didn’t know what else you could say. 

Joey shrugged, handing you the orange crayon in exchange for the yellow one you were holding. “And you,” he said and you felt tears prick your eyes. You were sure Joey would be the cause of many of your tears since his story was a sad one, and you wished you could do something more for him but weren’t sure how.

“Yeah,” you whisper, reaching over and brushing his hair out of his face with a forced smile. “You have me, too.”

You watched him color for a bit after that before forcing yourself to get up and  cook the beef for tacos. One messy dinner later, you send Joey off to the living room with the pack of Starbursts as you clean the kitchen. Tears were still burning your eyes as you heard the faint sound of the front door opening and closing, and it only got worse when you heard the sound of Joey laughing and Clay’s muffled voice from down the hall. 

You were washing the plates when he entered the dining room and crossed over to the kitchen. “Hey,” he says quietly, coming up behind you and placing his hands on your hips. “How was your day?” 

He leans in to brush his lips against your temple, and you hold back the sob that wanted to leave your mouth as you straighten up against his chest. “It was good,” you answered, and even you could hear the waver in your voice. Clay stiffens and you sigh as you turn your head away. “I’m sorry.”

Clay shakes his head and gently turns your body so you’re facing him. His gaze softens at the tears gathered in your eyes and he reaches one hand up to caress the side of your face, the other one reaching around you to turn the water off. “What’s wrong?” 

You avoid eye contact as you shrug, pressing the heels of your hand against your eyes. “I feel like an idiot right now, Clay,” you mumble, laughing pathetically after. 

He furrows his brows and gently grips your chin with his index finger and thumb, turning your head so you’re forced to meet his eyes. “Talk to me,” he softly demanded. “What happened?” 

You give him a strained sigh as you shake your head. “I just can’t believe that your bitch of an ex-wife left you and Joey. He’s so sweet and kind and….he’s a kid, Clay. How could she do that to him? To you?”

Clay gave you a small smile before leaning in and pressing a chaste but passionate kiss to your lips. “What brought this on?” He hummed when he pulled away and ran his hand up your back before tugging your body against his. 

You rest your head against his chest and bunch up the fabric of his shirt in your hands. “Joey told me how much he wishes he had a mom and how the kids at school tease him for it,” you mumble. “I don’t know, it made me upset. And I probably shouldn’t be this upset, but I can’t help it. It’s not fair.”

Clay hummed and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I love that you’re upset about it. Means you care,” he murmured. “And you’re right, it’s not fair, but trust me when I say that we’re all better off without her, especially Joey.”

You give him a sad smile. “Still…I just wish there was more I could do for him….for all of you,”

Clay shook his head, leaning down to press another his to your temple. “You do so much for us already,” he assured you, leaning back against the counter and letting you settle between his arms and legs. “And Joey adores you. He gets so excited whenever I tell him that you’ll be the one picking him up from school and hanging out with him until I get home. You’ve made a big impact on him, baby, on all of us.”

You smile again, a blush forming on your face as you take in his words. “Thanks,” you whisper, then you realize that he just called you baby, and now you’re flustered all over again but for an entirely different reason. 

He responds by kissing your forehead again. “I want to take you out,” he says and you raise your brows.

“Like…on a date?”

“Yeah,” he grins down at you. “On a date. I don’t know where we’d go, but I think we both need a break from this house. Maybe I can show you around the city? Since you’re so good at reading directions.”

“Hey,” you laugh and lightly slap his shoulder. “My inability to read directions is what led us to meeting. So, really, you should be glad that I rarely know where I’m going half the time.”

Clay laughed, too, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips. “Believe me,” he murmured against your mouth. “I’m glad.”

[wingedtrash]

Rick Grimes x Reader with an oral fixation

||CW|| NSFW be careful. MDNI (I’m not responsible for your media consumption). Blow Job and that’s about it.

AFAB/GN Reader, Reader isn’t mentioned to have a gender, no body parts mentioned for reader

This is my first time posting my writing, don’t judge too hard.

(Slightly self insert)

At first he didn’t understand why you were always chewing on things/putting things in your mouth, whether it be the strings of your hoodie, your fingernails, your thumb, your knuckles, water bottle caps, pens and pencils, pretty much anything you could put in your mouth.

It wasn’t until a pen burst in your mouth that he confronted you.

You turned around from sitting at a table where you were writing in a journal. The ink of the pen dripping from your mouth. “Darlin’ that’s what happens when you chew on things that aren’t meant to be chewed on.” He said before grabbing you a glass of water to rinse your mouth with.

“I can’t help it Rick.” You responded, frustrated and embarrassed with yourself for chewing through the pen.

“What do you mean you can’t help it? Just stop puttin’ things in your mouth.” He shrugged.

“It’s not something I can just stop, it keeps my brain and mouth occupied. I don’t know, I can’t really explain it in a way that you’d understand.” You try your best to explain, but you really don’t know exactly why you do it, it’s not something you think about before doing.

After that he never bothers asking about it again.

He does however replace certain things. For example, if your chewing on a pen, he takes it away from you and gives you a pencil so it won’t explode in your mouth like last time.

He starts looking for gum on runs for you in hopes that it’ll help stop you from chewing on your fingers because he finds it very unsanitary, especially when you’re away from Alexandria and don’t have soap or clean water. He’s just trying to keep you from getting sick.

He doesn’t mind watching you with your fingers in your mouth though, he gets off on the sight.

After a little while, he starts offering his own fingers. (Only when you’re in the comfort of your shared bedroom.)

He enjoys watching the way your mouth suckles on his large fingers.

He also loves the feeling of your wet mouth around his fingers.

He eventually thinks of something even better that you can wrap your mouth around.

His cock

“Darlin’ you know what else I think you might enjoy havin’ in your mouth?” He’d ask one night as he was walking out of the bathroom from taking a shower.

“Hmmm?” You hummed, turning to look at him, towel draped over his hips, messy wet hair framing his face.

“C’mere, I’ll show you.” He said, unraveling his towel, still holding it up so he didn’t uncover his hard cock yet.

You could obviously already see where this was going, considering he was completely naked. (And that towel couldn’t hide his bulge no matter how Rick tried adjusting it.)

You were now stood in front of him, trying your best to act like you didn’t know what was to come.

He finally drops his towel and there, in all of it’s glory is his rock hard dick, waiting so patiently for your mouth.

“Knees.” He commands. And you do as you’re told, dropping to your knees in front of him.

He reaches down and grabs your chin with one hand. Fisting his cock in the other.

“Open.” He squeezes your cheeks.

You open your mouth and stick your tongue out waiting for him.

He slaps his cock against your waiting tongue, sliding himself into your warm, wet mouth.

He groans at the feeling of you taking him into your mouth.

You push yourself as far down as you can go on him making yourself gag.

He definitely loves the sound of you gagging too.

He slowly starts fucking into your mouth, being as gentle as he can to not hurt you.

He ends up completely face fucking you.

Tears and drool streaming down your face, making a complete mess out of you.

He’s a sweetheart after though.

[jessicaslittlelovesickmess]

Burn Marks

Pairing: Larissa Weems x Reader

Warnings: Toxic!Larissa, mentions of pregnancy, angst, hopeful ending, hints of starving

Pt1

It destroyed you when she left you pregnant and with a hyper three year old who was full of questions of where her favoured mama is. It burnt your lungs with each lie you told her unable to state the truth afraid to scar the young girl the way you had been.

Soon enough your little boy Theodore had been born, named right after Larissa’s father who had the same blue eyes as her but your blonde hair. The more Delilah grew the more she shaped into Larissa the woman who had shattered your being.

Once Theo was old enough to attend Kindergarten you were off to rebuild the woman you once were, daily after the school drop off you hit the gym. You went back to school to study fashion something you had enjoyed, it was tiring but you wished nothing else.

At night the children would curl around you on the sofa as you read to them, a peace you had never felt before, a sense of security. Larissa had never tried to reach out not when Delilah had turned five or even ten, your children now sixteen and thirteen.

It took some time but finally you owned your own boutique while raising two children it was hard and sometimes you had to go without. Always making sure their little bellies were full, along the line you often wondered where Larissa was in life.

If she thought it was worth it

Now you sat across from her

“We’re here for our daughters enrolment”

Larissa shifted in her seat as she cleared her throat almost taken aback “right, I apologise” she nodded the air now thick. “So- uh how is she?” You shook your head “not quite the question Larissa” the woman couldn’t focus. Not when she had a straight view of your cleavage, not when you looked so great now she really began to regret.

“Look Larissa, I can help with Fundraisers whatever you need. Our daughters happiness means most so if you do anything to tarnish that” I threatened. “Everything will be paid in full by me and me only, I don’t want your charity nor your pity. You can fester in your guilt if you even feel guilty”.

“I said I was sorry Y/n” Larissa barked “I don’t care” you shrugged “you threw everything away! I gave every ounce of me up for you and you leave like our family was last weeks news”. You shot up from your seat “my body changing was only natural since I had your child! Me being tired was normal because I was working TWO jobs and RAISING OUR DAUGHTER, I WAS PREGNANT LARISSA!”

“I was pregnant and planning this wonderful life with you” your voice broke unable to face her “your actions burned me, they scar our children”. A sinking fell into Larissa’s chest “so tell me again how sad your life is, how hard it is now that you have to face your choices”

Call it Karma

“I loved you so fiercely that even two years after you left I would’ve welcomed you with open arms but no, we made our beds Larissa time to lay in them”

“I refuse to” the woman’s voice determined “well I have, I’m tired Larissa” you matched her energy “maybe I still love you”. You laughed at her words “love me? I thought you no longer love me isn’t that why you left? To find something bigger? Someone better? Or did you find only I would put up with your attitude?”

“You’re not being fair” Larissa stated only causing you to laugh “fair?” You faced her “I’m not being fair? Give me a break Larissa, fairness didn’t matter thirteen years ago when you up and split”.

Larissa knew you were right, of course you were you always had been and she knew she used you she didn’t feel bad about it.

“No you’re right but the past is the past Y/n or have you not changed?”

“Don’t humour me Larissa, I was forced to change. Our children needed at least one role model but you wouldn’t know what that’s like”

I was jealous she could pretend to be this great maternal principal when she was a horrible mother, she had abandoned her family. With a sigh I sat back down “it’s a crappy thing you did and I hope you can make amends with our children but for now any questions you have go straight to my assistant”.

Larissa cringed slightly “Your assistant?” You raised a brow “I’m not letting you back in so easily honey” resting against the back of your chair with a small smirk.

The blonde took it as a deal

[janeyseymour]

hiii!! i hope you’re doing well. i was hoping to request a melissa x reader. where the reader is really struggling with mental health and her gf (melissa) is starting to notice it.

one day during work (they school) the reader gets into an argument with one of the other teachers and the teacher says some rude stuff to her which hurts her a lot. the reader leaves the school for the day w/o telling melissa.

(hurt, comfort, some fluff)

Hi! I'm so behind on writing because of my school situation at the moment... but I hope this is what you were looking for! As always, not edited in the slightest

Good Days, Bad Days

wc: ~2.6k

You’ve been struggling lately. You hate to admit it to even just yourself, much less anyone else. But you are struggling. You don’t really know why.

Okay. You do know why. 

You’re taking on too much- school is overwhelming between the kids and the extra tasks you’ve decided to take on (why you thought being part of the curriculum development committee is beyond you), things are getting more serious with your girlfriend, and you have to admit you aren’t doing a great job of balancing everything. You’re trying your best, but it’s getting really hard. Your ideas are shot done more and more. You feel like you barely see Melissa, and when you do, the two of you are arguing about God even knows what. It always ends up with the two of you in bed holding each other and promising you aren’t upset with each other and that you love each other, but it’s becoming a sick cycle- and not a cycle the two of you necessarily want to be in. 

And the fiery redhead is starting to notice the way that your mental health has been declining. She’s been watching it steadily for the last month or so. The way you haven’t been eating as much, the way you can barely keep your eyes open at times, how you fall asleep almost every time you’re sitting still. You’re constantly irritable, and you burst into tears at least once a day.

“My love,” she whispers as she pulls you closer. 

You sob into her shoulder. “I just- I don’t know what I’m doing wrong!” you blubber.

“You aren’t doing anything wrong, honey,” she tries to reassure you, although her words fall upon mostly deaf ears. Your tears are uncontrollable, and at this point, you’ve lost yourself. You don’t even know why you’re crying this time.

“C’mon, amore,” she rocks you gently. “Let’s get you up to bed. You need some rest.”

“I- I can’t!” you whine. “I have to come up with more ideas for the curriculum meeting tomorrow, and I have to grade the kids’ social studies projects, and I- I-” You struggle to catch your breath as you hiccup out a sob.

She takes a few deep breaths, hoping you’ll follow her motions. You do, just barely. She smiles softly and praises you. “Good. Keep breathing, honey. You’re okay,” she mumbles against your head.

After a bit of calming yourself down, you reach for your students’ social studies projects and start to grade them again. Melissa settles on the barstool next to you and grabs her own stack. She helps you grade them, and then the two of you head to bed. She holds you until she falls asleep, and then she reaches for her laptop that’s on the nightstand. She finds a few new ideas for curriculum that might help to benefit the students, emails them to you, and curls up around you again. 

You wake up the next morning dreading the day. You have your meeting during your prep, meaning you won’t have time to prep the materials you need to for the science experiment today and will instead be setting everything up during your lunch. You have recess duty today, so you really won’t be able to settle at all today. 

“Y/N,” Melissa shakes you awake gently. She’s already ready for school, makeup and all. “It’s time to wake up, hon.”

You whine as you roll over. “Five more minutes, babe.”

“I already let you sleep twenty extra minutes,” she tells you gently. “You gotta get up. You can eat breakfast in the car, but you’re eating breakfast today.”

You sigh and roll out of bed. You get yourself ready for the day before stomping off towards the vehicle. Melissa brings you a bowl of breakfast casserole and gets into the driver’s seat. You only take a few bites before you start to feel nauseous and close your eyes for the rest of the drive. Your girlfriend rests her hand on your thigh as she drives, and she gives it a gentle squeeze once she parks the car.

“We’re here, amore,” she sighs quietly. “I know you’ve been stressed about your meeting today, so I sent you a few curriculum ideas last night. Why don’t you look over them and finish up your breakfast?”

“You did that for me?” You tear up at her thoughtfulness.

“I did,” she smiles at you softly. “But you don’t have time to cry about it right now, hon. You have to prep, and finish breakfast.”

You groan, but you know she’s right. You grab your bags, take the bowl, and head into the school. You settle at your seat in the teachers lounge and start prepping for your meeting at 11, forgetting about your breakfast. The only reason you remember is because Melissa is sitting next to you holding the fork up to your mouth. You blush and take the bite gratefully.

Before you know it, everyone else has filed in, Jacob is playing the news all too loudly, and you pack up your things to work in your classroom. You give the redhead a kiss to the cheek before heading out.

You don’t expect her to follow- you know how much she loves watching Channel 6. But she does with a confused look on her face.

“You okay, hon?” she asks you softly as she pulls up a chair next to your desk.

“Just can’t get distracted today,” you sigh. She doesn’t know how much is riding on this one meeting. 

“You can usually work with the news on?” she furrows her brows and purses her lips.

“I- It was just a little overstimulating today, okay?” you tell her, hoping this smooths everything over. “Go watch the news with them. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” she sucks a breath in. Melissa gives you a soft kiss before seeing herself out. She knows when to leave you be at this point, and you clearly need to be alone right now.

The kids come in far before you’re ready for them. But still, you stand from your desk and meet most of them at the door with a bright smile and a hug if they want one. But Melissa can see the tension in your shoulders and your body language.

Your students are genuinely pretty well behaved today. They’re quiet, they get their independent work done, and you continue to prep for your meeting. You silently thank God for that. You don’t know what you would’ve done if you had to handle behaviors on top of your meeting today. 

They line up, head down to music, and you head into one of the meeting rooms in the office for curriculum development. The lights are too bright. You can hear them flickering. You don’t feel okay in your own body right now- your clothes are itchy, and you can’t stand the way that the chair feels against you.

None of your ideas are received well, and you struggle to hold back tears at this point. Shaina, One of the older teachers upstairs is just digging into every little bit of your being now. You don’t even know what to do- you aren’t even talking about curriculum anymore.

“Maybe, and hear me out guys,” the woman addresses the group. “Instead of focusing so much on developing a new curriculum, when this one works so well for most of us already, we address the actual issue in the room: the shit teachers we have here.” She looks directly at you. You can feel your cheeks flush red and the tears spring to your eyes.

“Hey,” one of the kinder teachers sighs.

“No, no!” Shaina argues. “I’m being serious! We can get rid of the new teachers who think they know everything and can’t teach for the life of them with better ones!”

“I- I think I teach well,” you mumble. “My kids love my lessons that I do with them.”

“Oh please,” the older teacher laughs in your face. “Your kids only pretend so they don’t hurt your pathetic little feelings, Miss Sensitive.”

“I-If they didn’t like my lessons, I think I would know,” you mutter. 

One of the other teachers tries to get back to the focus of this meeting, but Shaina just won’t quit. 

“The only reason they kept your lazy, pathetic ass around here is because of that stupid, bitchy girlfriend of yours,” she comments. “No one wants to fuck with Schemmenti, and certainly no one wants to fuck with you. Hm… maybe that’s why the two of you found each-”

You don’t even bother gathering your notes or laptop. You just head out of the meeting. You can’t stop the red, hot tears that begin to pour over as you run down to your classroom to grab your purse. You can’t be here right now. You just can’t.

You head back into the office, and you can hear the committee still in the conference room now going after Shaina for upsetting you, but you don’t care. You head straight into Ava’s office.

“Ava, I- I need to go home.”

“I don’t have time for-” the principal sighs as she doesn’t even bother to look up from her phone.

“Ava,” you say emphatically. “Please.”

Only then does she look up at you, and she takes in your appearance. She has a bit of a soft spot for you. “Oh, Y/N, girl, what happened?”

“It- it doesn’t matter. I just can’t be here right now, please. I need a sub right now, I’ll even take Mr. J.”

“Should I pull Melissa for you?” she asks, clearly concerned.

“N-no. She was excited to teach her math lesson with them today, so just… she’ll figure it out,” you stutter out. “I’ll just take the bus home. I just- fuck. I need to go home.”

The principal nods and starts making the announcement over the intercom that the janitor needs to report to her office immediately. She gives you a sad nod, and you head out. 

Melissa, not knowing that you’ve gone home, heads into the staff room for lunch. She pulls your lunch out and sets it at your spot for you. But you never show. You’re already about half a bottle deep in wine and drowning your sorrows. When you don’t show after fifteen minutes, she sighs and heads down to your room, fully expecting to find you asleep at your desk. But your bag is gone, your laptop isn’t there, and your mug of coffee is still sitting on your desk half finished. She raises a brow as she heads back down to the teachers lunch room.

“Anyone seen Y/N?” the second grade teacher asks.

“Not since this morning,” Barbara says. “Was she not in her room?”

“No. Her bags are gone too, and her laptop isn’t there?”

“Maybe check the conference room?”

“She does like to work in there sometimes,” Melissa mulls it over as she leaves again. She makes her way down the hall and towards the main office. She finds your laptop, but you’re still nowhere to be found.

“Oi,” she grumbles. “Woman’s lost her damned mind.”

Ava appears behind her. “Your girl went home.”

“She what? She couldn’t have. I drove us in today?”

“She said something about taking the bus,” Ava shrugs. “I ain’t never seen that girl cry the way she was crying. Must’ve finally snapped.”

“Who has her kids?” your girlfriend asks, and she’s immediately fumbling for her phone to call you.

“Mr. Johnson,” the principal shrugs. “She said she would even take him, and I sure as hell don’t got the time to wrangle a bunch of third graders today.”

You see your phone light up with Melissa’s name and the sweet picture you have of the two of you. You send it to voicemail.

“She’s not picking up,” Melissa grumbles.

“She looked pretty beat, like she could fall asleep standing up,” Ava shrugs. 

“She did that the other night,” your girlfriend sighs. “Poor thing.”

“Well, what’re you waiting for? Go save your princess,” the principal chuckles.

“I don’t got no one to cover my class,” she points out. 

“I got it,” Ava tells her. “Anything for Y/N.”

The redhead, while shocked, doesn’t have to be told twice. She heads into the teachers lounge to grab the rest of her lunch and your lunch.

“I’m heading home for the day,” Melissa tells the usual crew. When they give her a questioning look, she just shrugs and continues to pack up your things. It’s none of their business why she’s leaving early.

She rolls through most of the stop signs on the drive home, and only once does she run through a red light where she sure a cop isn’t lingering out of sight. 

When she pulls in, she notices that all of the lights in the house are off, and your car is still sitting right where you left it last night.

“Amore?” she calls softly as she kicks off her shoes at the front door. She enters the living room, and there you are, eyes rimmed red. Your curled up under your favorite blanket, wearing one of her Flyers sweatshirts, with a glass of wine and a carton of ice cream and an empty Wawa hoagie wrapper at your side. Your comfort movie is playing, and you sigh deeply.

“Why are you home?”

“Because when my girlfriend disappears midday and Ava tells me she has me covered, I come home,” Melissa tells you gently as she drops her bags on the bench. She hands you your lunch and settles in next to you. “You wanna tell me what happened?”

You explain what happens, but only after your girlfriend promises you she won’t murder Shaina for upsetting you. When your finished, she’s fuming.

“Babe, you promised you wouldn’t-”

“Yeah,” she grits out. “I lied. That’s worse than what I thought you were going to say.”

“I-it’s not a big deal,” you sigh, trying to smooth it all over. “Today was just a lot for me in general. I was going to get set off no matter what.”

“No, I’ll show her who the shit teacher is… in a non-threatening way,” she adds on. 

“Mel, it just isn’t worth it,” you tell her. “I’ll get over myself, and the other teachers were trying to get her to back off. I’m sure someone will go to Ava about it, but for now… I just want to wallow in my self-loathing and self-pity, okay? I’ll be fine.”

“Can I do anything to help?” she asks softly as she wraps an arm around you and tugs you in. Your head falls on her shoulder, and you sigh.

“Can we have a day in? Just sit with me and let me wallow?” you ask quietly. “I just need today to be sad, and tomorrow I’ll be okay.”

“Let me change, and then I’ll do whatever you need me to do,” she promises you. With a kiss to your head, you let her up. She’s back quickly in a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt- leather pants now gone. Her hair is tied up in a messy ponytail, and you can’t help the small smile that appears on your face.

“What, hun?”

“Just… you,” you tell Melissa as you reach for her. She settles in next to you.

“What about me?”

“I can’t believe I got you by my side,” you mumble as you curl into her side. “Having you makes everything so much better.”

“I’m always here for you, my love.” The redhead kisses your head again as she takes your hand in hers. “Through the good days, through the bad days… all of it.”

[imahinatjon]

Doubt

Dazai x Reader

I Don't like sad/bad endings.

PART 1

"Osamu,

I'm leaving this short letter for you to read when you wake up. By now you should already know I'm not there. That's because I've left. During the night. I came to a conclusion that our relationship was not working, we weren't working, we don't belong together. It hurts me to say this, but it's true. I'm sorry. For leaving like this, but I'm afraid it's the only way. I'm sorry. I really am.

Love, YN"

Of all people is was Kunikida who came to see him. Of course, Kunikida's reasons weren't born from concern, but rather, annoyance. Dazai had missed work. Only for a day but, well, we all know how kunikida is with his schedule.

So of course he went to drag Dazai off to work.

Knocking the door felt wrong though. Call it a detectives intuition, but something was up. Something had happened, and it probably wasn't good.

So he let himself in.

The atmosphere was dark, sour. All colour and life drained from the small apartment shared by two.

Dazai wasn't hard to find either. He was sat quietly in the living room, thinking to himself. He didn't even flinch when Kunikida approached.

The letter was on the floor, inviting the blonde to invade the privacy of the couple living here. He didn't think Dazai would mind.

"Where are they?"

"I don't know"

"Why did they leave?"

"I don't know"

"What happened"

Dazai was silent then. He didn't know what happened. But had been forming an idea in his head on what it could have been.

"I'm not sure..."

"But I might need a favor"

Had this been anyone else who just up and went missing, Dazai would probably be able to find them. But, he wasn't in his best heads pace.

Even back in the office he was still somewhat moping around, despite the usual facade he tried to keep up.

If anyone could find where you went, it was Ranpo...

And probably anyone who was actually thinking properly.

"They went 'home'"

"Home? Wh- ohhh"

"Back to their parents, Guarantee that's why they quit their job too"

"Wait, quit?"

"Hmm. Fukuzawa hasn't exactly put that through yet though. Keeping the decision on hold"

Of course. If you'd come in and quit out of the blue, they were going to know something was up. And they wouldn't be just letting you go without so much as a question.

Now he knew where you were though. Back with your parents.

He knew something happened when you visited together. That your mother probably gave you an idea that had plagued your mind. He just wished he'd asked about it when he had the chance. Maybe you would have spoken to him?

No time for that now though. He had to go over to see you.

Convince you to come back.

Your parents house wasn't too far away. So he was knocking on the door in no time.

Your mother looked around thr sitting room, having heard the door knock. She rolled her eyes and reluctantly stood from where she sat, opening the door with a subtle scowel on her face.

"Oh, Dazai... right? What is it?" She asked, trying to ease her face somewhat.

"Is YN here? I need to see them"

"Yeah... what did they do this time?" she huffed

"Nothing. We just need to talk"

"Hm"

"Please?"

"No"

"It's not really your choice"

"Look, if they haven't reached out to you, then ovbiously they don't want to talk. So get off my doorstep... and don't bother knocking again"

This was not the woman he met that day.

Dazai stepped back, not really wanting to cause a scene. He didn't want to deal with your mother, he wanted to deal with you.

So he made his way around the back of the house, finding his own way to see you.

"Who was that?" You asked your mother, walking out of the kitchen to where she just sat back down.

"No one important"

"Kinda sounded like Dazai...?"

"If you knew that then why did you bother asking?!" She snapped.

You discreetly rolled your eyes and walked out. Heading up to your room, you noticed your door slightly creaked open.

You knew who it was. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't exited. But you were nervous, afraid of the consequences of just leaving the way you did.

Swallowing the nervous bile rising in your throat you opened the door fully, stepping inside your room to face the man you loved so dearly.

You don't even question how he got in.

"YN"

You didn't say anything, just stood beside the door, keeping your distance.

"YN"

He called you again. You should go to him. Talk to him, sit beside him. His face doesn't let you in on how he's feeling, but...

You needed to ask him. You hated this feeling of uncertainty.

"I'm sorry" you said. Shutting the door behind you, and leaning nervously against the wall beside it.

"I had to... y'know..."

"Why?" He couldn't fathom why you had to leave.

"Didn't you read my note? I told you, it wasn't right! The relationship, it just wasn't working"

"Then we make it work!" He didn't raise his voice, he didn't want to be discovered by your mother downstairs, but the expression he let slip was shouting, desperate. Only to be hidden behind an unsettling calm once again.

He released a breath "we talk about what's wrong, why you don't think it's working, and we make it work... unless..." He didn't even want to think about that option, but had to accept it was a possibility, so with a quiet voice, he asked

"Unless you really don't love me"

Your breath caught in your throat. He thought that? Really?

"It's not that dazai. I love you, more than anything. I want nothing more than to be by your side for an Eternity, but I know that it can't happen. I know I'm not good enough, I know I don't do enough, I know I'm useless, I know I'm difficult, and I know you don't love me the way I love you. I can't do that to you or myself" you curled in on yourself, sitting on the floor as you let your feelings spill to him, as you told him your truth.

"I can't selfishly keep you tied to someone like me"

Dazai stared at you for a while, contemplating what you had said.

It was as though you were reading his thoughts. You told him exactly what he'd been thinking. But... those were your thoughts?

"Whoever told you that?" He whispered, sad smile coming to his face and he moved to kneel down infront of you.

"Who said you weren't good enough? When have you ever beeb lazy? Or useless? Your everything to me, and more, your perfect, for me, to me..."

He held your hands up in his own

"How is it selfish to love a man who loves you tenfold"

"I'm... you what?"

"Surely you weren't so silly as to think I didn't love you? I asked you to live with me, I asked you to date me for a reason"

"And thinking back... you must have said yes for a reason?" He asked

You couldn't answer, words caught in your throat, tears threatening to spill. So instead, all you did was launch forward, wrapping your arms around his neck to hide and cry into his shoulder.

You should have spoken to him sooner. Maybe this would have been avoided.

Dazai gently stroked your hair, and held an arm around your back. He wasn't about to interuppt you. But... he'd probably have too soon.

"How about you gather your things and we go back home?"

Pulling back go wipe your eyes you nodded, smile small but present.

He helped you put the few small things you took with you in a bag. He climbed out of your window (telling you how he also got in) and took your bag with him.

You headed downstairs to leave through the front door.

"Where you going?" Your mother asked, standing in the living room doorframe.

"Out"

She raised an eyebrow

"Whatever" she childishly huffed and walked off. Leaving you to your own devices.

So you left.

*extra*

Kunikida sat impatiently in the car, tapping on the steering wheel waiting for you and Dazai. He came along because he was a concerned for your mental heath and wellbeing (and maybe Dazai's too) but now he wished he hadn't, as he waited for you two to get in the car, instead of standing outside hugging and sharing a few pecks and laughs like you spent a whole year a part.

It's been a day! Nearly 2!

When you did eventually get in the car, he was already speeding off, desperate to get back to work.

But not before telling you

"You two really need to work on your communication"

_________________________________________

Not yet proofread.

Masterlist :3

[thequietkid-moonie]

Inmortal darling can travel from worlds

[ YANDERE HEADCANONS ] [ Buddha ]

[ Shuumatsu no Valkyrie / Records of Ragnarok ]

⚠️ Yandere, I don't support nor try to romanticize this toxic behaivor, is just for entretaiment

×× This fic was comissioned by @serendipitous-soul

This was really interesting to write!! I think this idea was really interesting to write!! Totally liked it!!

Hope you like it and that i made a good job

It can be pretty hypocritical of his part that Buddha professes about freedom and find happiness in their own while he is possessive over you, while for him you are his biggest sourse of happiness

It all started by a small atraction that quickly grew to more and more until become a more obsesive and possessive feeling, although he doesn't really care, he just accept those feelings and act on them

Now that you have all his attention on you (even if he is subtle with it), Buddha want and will know everything he can about you, so hiding that habilities of yours of being able to travel around worlds isn't exactly a posibility, even if he himself doesn't get the idea of can actually do he does knows you are hiding something from him and won't rest until he gets to know

Despite his stronge feelings and anxiety for not knowing what you are hiding he will never treat you bad, he has his own charming way to lull you so even when he start to feel more and more stress or even desperate to find out your secret he won't be rude or agressive, but he will be more indirectly pushy and insistent in his own charming and flirty way

Getting to know that you can actually travel around diferent wolds is going to be really shocking for him, and it would take him a while to be able to accept it, however it actually doesn't take much time since in this world humans can reach the Valhalla and gods can be physicaly close to humans, besides he has reached the status of a god by his own efforts even when he had born as a human, so a power like yours of yours doesn't sound too imposible to exist, and not just that but the risk of you going to another world without him being able to do anything terrified him

Buddha is immediatly in panic over the posibility of losing you, he isn't the type to lock you in a room in order to keep you with him but he does start to insolate you and keep you close, he appreciate a lot freedom and that is why he give you your own freedom to some extent, however he tries his best to convince you to don't go around visiting other worlds, at least for a while (until he would manage to convince you to don't do it ever again)

Buddha act interested and intriged by your hability, willing to heard all your stories and how it works all this traveling around, he tries really hard to put a smile and cheerful voice even when he is filled with the anxiety and stress, desperately trying to understand how all of this works to be able stop it. On the other hand, Buddha is working really hard to make you love this world, showing only the good things this world has to offer to try to convince you to stay in this one with him (besides, you don't have to worry for negative things when he can easily protect you from anything and everything)

One time you told him about having your own little pocket world, a special dimension that is just your room, somewhere safe where you can rest and keep safe all your souvenirs from all the places you have been, and, sadly, even when you had shared that information with him because is something special for you and you trust him in that moment, he couldn't think in nothing else that wasn't the posibility that if he would be able to get his hands on that little pocket world it could make it easier for him to keep you with him

Despite his wide smile and cheerful voice Buddha is suffering a lot from this since he doesn't know how to handle it, it is driving him crazy the posibility of losing you because you found another more interesting world or because something happened to you where he can reach you. Since the day he get to know he had been working really hard on make you trust him to the point where is a blind trust just so he can lull you to stay here with him for the rest of your life, however, for being an inmortal being you have the rest of an eternity to live and he doesn't want to steal your freedom from you neither (besides, you are always so excited while talking about the other worlds that he doesn't know how he will be able to live with himself after being the culprit of you losing that smile)

At some point Buddha will finally be able to reach a better conclusion, travel with you. Having the status of a god make him inmortal too and he is pretty stronge so even if you two are in another world he is confident that he can protect you (but not too confident, he is smart enough to know to don't underestimate his surroundings), besides it has been long ago since he resigned to anything material and just go on his own, so he has nothing to lose (aside from you, but the plan is to never let that happen)

He probably tell you the idea at the start in a playful manner before making it seem like a romantic plan, painting the future like and eternal honeymoon where is just the two of you, loving each other across the universe, but at the end is just him trying to don't steal your complete freedom while not letting you go neither, no matter where you are you will always belong to him just as he belongs to you

[firgri]

Fem! Reader × Yandere! Knight

Synopsis: For 5 months you have been trying to remember all the past events that happened before all this, but why is this knight so passionate about you?

(I'm sorry, but English is not my native language, so I used a translator! Rus->eng)

----

5 months.

You have been in this strange place for 5 months. You don't remember what happened before 5 months...You don't even remember your childhood! All you know is that you work as a maid for some rich nobleman. Of course, they didn't pay that much, but you can feed yourself, so they also gave you a separate bed!...This is the best thing, because you don't even remember if you have your own house or even relatives. You only knew that your name was [Name], and even then you learned it from other maids.

Sighing, you took a basin of laundry and went outside, starting to hang them on ropes.

- Oh, my God...Why is there always so much underwear! - you mumbled to yourself, continuing to do your job. After all, you get paid for it! At least something should make you happy.

Looking to the right, you noticed the outlines of something or even someone in the distance. Taking a closer look, you noticed a herd of horses, and people were sitting on them ..... in armor. As they approached, you noticed the royal emblem on the armor.

- What......Not what, but who! Saying that a little louder, you gathered up your remaining belongings and ran to the back door of the manor. Even you understood that the arrival of the royal guards in such a remote place is one of the strangest situations!

Breaking into the manor, you tried to find the head maid. When you noticed her, you ran up to her and started saying that someone was approaching the estate.

After looking at you, she looked out the window and gasped.

- My God! What has he done again, that everything has already reached the guards! - she said, quickly starting to look for the owner of the house with her eyes. Realizing that he was not there, she walked briskly towards the stairs. She stopped and shouted.

- What are you staring at! Keep doing what you've been doing before! If you don't start, I'll fire you all! - after these words, she ran to the 2nd floor.

After looking at each other, you exchanged glances and started doing what you had been doing before. Going outside with a new batch of laundry, you wanted to start doing your job, as you accidentally bumped into something very hard. No wonder the head maid told you to always look ahead, not at your feet!

With these thoughts, you rubbed your nose and looked ahead, only to see the texture of someone else's armor in front of your eyes. Taking two steps back, you looked at the face of the one who owned them. Man. So another one of the important royal knights. After looking at you, he shifted his weight to the other leg, straightened his hair and began to talk.

- Girl, do you know where the owner of this estate is? - The man with brown hair said. Taking a closer look, you noticed that there was only one large scar on his face, which ran from his lips to his very left eye.

- Oh, uh, what?.... Ah! The owner, he is, well, uh... - you started to get nervous. What should you say! Why of all the people he had to ask you, there were other employees here! How did he even know that you would be here!

Starting to look around to find something or someone who will help you in this situation, you sighed when you heard a voice from the front door.

- Please forgive me for coming just now! I had things to do. - when he came up to you, he offered his hand so that the knight could shake it. Realizing that he did not want to do this, the owner lowered it, and a drop of sweat ran down his forehead.

- Well, let's not disturb the servants to work and let's go into the house. - having said that, he went into the building, at the same time starting to look back at you, then at him.

Realizing that the knight was in no hurry to go anywhere, you decided to move away from him a few more steps, but you heard only one sentence that made you stand up and say, "you haven't changed since our last meeting," it was only after these words that he followed your master, and you stayed outside.

- What?.... - you said with a puzzled voice. Looking away, you saw the people who came with him. They looked at you maliciously and with mischief in their eyes. What's going on anyway? After this whole situation, you continued to do your job, trying to think less about it.

Having finished with that, you picked up an empty basin, heading into the house through the back door. But before you could get there, you heard something from the other knights that made you stop and listen.

- I don't understand why he chose her? There are so many good women or even men at court, so it's still up to him. one of the crowd said, and the other supported him and replied that "you are too inferior in his status." Thinking about it, you began to wonder what connects you with this person at all.

- Come on, quickly shut your mouths and shut up! - realizing that they would not continue their argument, you opened the door and went inside the house.

Stretching, you were about to go to your room when one of the maids called you back. - [Name]! It's for you here. Marie is calling..Well, that is, the head maid is calling to her... - after a pause, she continued, - she said that she needs you very much. Well, if anything, it's on the second floor. In the master's office... - it was only after these words that she looked at you piteously and went her way.

Why? That's the only question you've had all the way to your destination. After knocking on the door and hearing the invited "come in", you opened the door a crack and looked through the crack at what was happening in the room.

- Aah, this is our [Name], what was missing here! The lord of the manor said and continued. - Well, sit down here, - after looking at the place indicated by the owner, you came a little closer and sat down on it. It turned out that you were sitting where the man with the scar on his face was.

Seeing his nod, the host continued, - Well, since everyone is with us, we can continue our conversation. Khem, [Name]....Well, it's like a fairy tale

here - you're being taken to the royal castle. Marie interrupted, starting to look at you.

- This is a very responsible position, because not every one of us is honored to receive a blessing from such a person. - after these words, she stroked your head and went to the door and continued: - I'll go pack your things. It was only after these words that she closed the door.

After looking at the two of you, the owner added to Marie's words: - Yes! I'm going to help her, and you can talk here! It's been so long since you've seen each other...the very moment, hehe -

Silence. That's what came from you when this whole situation was happening to you. What were you supposed to say?! With these thoughts, you didn't notice how one of his hands took your wrist and kissed the back of it. It was only after this gesture that you recoiled from him and stood up, starting to speak.

- I-I think it's all a-mistake! I don't understand what's going on here, but I'm not ready for this role! You shouted, trying to justify yourself somehow. Getting up from his seat, he spoke: - Don't you remember me? - he said, to which you dropped your gaze to the floor.

What should I do in this situation?! Of course you don't remember anything! You don't even remember your childhood! What if he was important to you then? Who is he to you anyway?! After remaining silent for two more minutes, you wanted to open your mouth, but you were interrupted: - Don't worry, we will have a lot of time to remember everything that happened in childhood. - with these words, he leaned towards you and tried to kiss you on the lips, but you recoiled even more and ran to the door, just to be away from him.

- Listen, I-I don't understand what's going on here, but I don't even know you! - you answered, trying to panic less. If the answer is that you've never seen him and he just confused you with someone else, will it help you get out of this situation? When he opened his mouth to answer that, he interrupted you again. Why is it like this every time!

- I did not expect that this would be exactly the case...That's what I was hoping for. After these words, he remained silent and continued to speak only after a few seconds.

- We were best friends when we were kids. He looked down at the floor and fell silent, as if waiting for an answer from you.

One minute. Two. Three.

Silence.

And that you should answer him! Think, [Name], think! When you started going through all your memories for 5 months, you remembered how some of the maids were chatting about who was the hottest of the royal guards. There was definitely a name mentioned three times in their chatter every time, but that's what it was! Believe me...Vareon...Verian. Verian? Yes, that's right, Verian! They always said something about him, complementing his other actions, but was that really his name? After thinking it over, you didn't see anything better, so you decided to try your luck, so you answered.

- That's right! Verian! It's you, it's you! - you said enthusiastically, even without a single hesitation in your voice, proud of it, you continued: - I'm sorry again that I couldn't recognize you, it's just that because of this work, the most important people for me are forgotten, - with these words, you began to expect his answer.

After looking at you, he fell silent...

oh my God. Isn't that his name and you just took it and disgraced yourself in front of him!

- yes! It's me! You finally remembered me, I'm so happy about it! - after these words, he began to remember how good it was for you as a child.

It was after this whole situation that your life completely changed. You have moved to the royal castle. It was twice or even five times the size of the estate you usually lived in. You were placed in the kitchen to wash dishes, help cooks, peel vegetables and many, many other things. It was only from that moment that you began to miss the plentiful amount of laundry that they forced you to hang up every day.

- I can't do this anymore! - you shouted into the void, continuing to peel vegetables, - Why are there so many things to do? There's not even a minute to rest. - with these words, you peeled the potatoes, washed the appliances and went in the direction of your room. Turning towards your room, you did not expect to see Verian leaning against the wall. Only he was missing now.

No, of course, he was a good guy and all that, but he was very resourceful: he often came to you to check on you (even if he had his own duties); asked for your mood; tried to help; once he came before the battle, so that you would bless him for victory, but how did you do it That's how he left with a smile from ear to ear!

That's why you wanted only one thing right now- to rest and nothing more.

Turning in the other direction, you were about to go back to the kitchen and sleep there, but he noticed you and called your name. I don't think I can even get enough sleep today.

- Oh, Verian, I didn't even notice you! How are you doing? - you said that with the best smile you could give. He looked at you, smiled, came up to you and replied: - Yes! I'm fine, thanks for your concern. Smiling, he continued: - Do you want to go out and look at the sky now? I heard there was going to be a starfall today, so I wanted to spend it with you. He smiled stupidly, looked at the floor, and his cheeks grew warmer.

Your answer did not keep him waiting long: you refused.

- what?.. - He said and looked at you.

- Listen, I'm very tired right now. Well, you know how much I have to do right now, so let's do it another time, okay? - you said it a little more gently, trying not to offend him. You tried to pass by, but with one movement he was able to pin you against the wall. - Then let's do it tomorrow, okay? - he said with some hope when he looked at you.

You have even more things to do tomorrow than you have today...

- Verian, I understand what you want to see, but I have a lot to do right now. So let's go through....A week or two? - looking at him, you expected him to understand you and leave you alone, but everything did not go the way you wanted...

Tilting his head, he came a little closer to you, which even made you feel his breath. - I'm only giving you this day to rest, and that's it. - He said rudely. After these shots, he walked away from you and went deep into the castle.

You didn't move for two or three minutes, and when you realized what he said, you whimpered and opened the door to your room.

You didn't get enough sleep. This day will be very long due to the fact that we did not sleep until the morning, as we thought about his words for a very long time.

You've been yelled at for the umpteenth time, because you fell asleep at the workplace, and once you fell asleep on sacks of potatoes.

It's good that even very good people worked in this castle, which is why you were able to make friends with them. After seeing your condition, one of the maids offered to replace you so that you could go to sleep for at least an hour or two. You must agree.

Passing by the window, you looked through it and saw Verias. He doesn't seem to have thought much about what he said to you last night. After that, you turned your head forward and walked further down the corridors, not even noticing how Verias's gaze was fixed on you. It's good that no one was in the comanche, there is time for yourself.

Sinking down on the pillow, you sighed

We fell asleep with relief. You didn't dream about anything, but only after a while the pressure that was pressing on your chest increased. When you tried to remove it, you couldn't move your hands either. When you opened your eyes, you noticed a brown shock of hair on your chest, followed by Verian, who was lying on top of you.

- Wh-what?" - you said, trying to throw him off. He shushed and looked at you, grinning stupidly: - You know, I've been thinking about it and realized that I can't hold back anymore. - with that, he let you go and sat on top of you so that you wouldn't run away from him. You noticed that he was only wearing a linen shirt that exposed a little bit of his chest, trousers and boots, which he bothered to take off.

- I've been wanting to lie down with you like this for a long time. It's a pity that it only happened now - again that stupid smile that he always gave only to you.

- What are you getting at? You whispered, afraid of the worst that could happen.

- Don't you understand? Well, of course, because you don't remember, - he grinned and put his hand to your cheeks. - I like you. I've liked you since I was a kid, but now I'm happy that I can touch you so intimately now. He grinned and brought his face closer to yours. - Just don't worry, from now on I'll be able to take care of you in the best way possible. - he purred and wanted to kiss you on the lips, but you turned your head, which is why his lips met your cheek.

- No, you'd better let me go first, and then we'll talk, - you said, trying to somehow kick him off.

- If I let you go, you'll run away from me again, just like you always did. You always run away from me, even if I catch you in my arms, - he sighed and took your cheeks in his hand so that you wouldn't squirm. His grip was firm, which will certainly leave marks on your cheeks from his hands. - Listen, don't complicate anything for yourself and just kiss me, - he tried again, but you started squirming again, which is why he began to hold you with a rougher grip so that you would not escape. Realizing that there was nothing you could do, you looked at him and noticed his blank stare. There was nothing left of that stupid grin.

- Oh, don't look at me like that, I'm just doing what I should have done back then, - he said in your ear, which made you sob.

- Wh-what?" I don't understand what you're getting at. - you already wanted to start crying, as he ran his hand over your face to collect your tears.

- Well, well, you don't need to have something like that on your pretty face. - He said, wiping the tears from your eyes.

- Well, to be more precise, it's because of me that you don't remember what happened up to 5 months ago, heh. After all, I did it so that time would roll back, and I can do it as much as I want, hehe. So you will always be by my side, everywhere and always. - he took advantage of your misunderstanding and kissed you. Dozens of thoughts were spinning in your head - You know, heh, I like playing with you. I like to pursue you over and over again, but I always come at the most terrible time, because in all my attempts you could not really fall in love with me. - he muttered, starting to crush you with his weight so that you would not escape. And then the darkness.

Month.

It's been a month since you've been in this strange place. You don't remember what happened before 5 months...You don't even remember your childhood! All you know is that you work as a maid for some rich nobleman. Of course, they didn't pay that much, but you can feed yourself, so they also gave you a separate bed!...This is the best thing, because you don't even remember if you have your own house or even relatives. You only knew that your name was [Name], and even then you learned it from other maids.

Sighing, you took a basin of laundry and went outside, starting to hang them on ropes.

  - Oh, my God...Why is there always so much underwear! - you mumbled to yourself, continuing to do your job. After all, you get paid for it! At least something should make you happy.

Looking to the right, you noticed the outlines of something or even someone in the distance. Taking a closer look, you noticed a herd of horses, and people were sitting on them ..... in armor. As they approached, you noticed the royal emblem on the armor.

Having already decided to rush into the house, but you heard a voice from behind, and then something pulled you by your dress and pulled you upstairs. You were screaming and fighting with the one who grabbed you. You fought, but when you were turned to the one who grabbed you, you only saw a smirk on the man's face.

  - Hmm, I didn't wait this time, I'm sorry, I wanted to meet you too much. - he muttered, putting you on a horse. With a wave of their hand, the soldiers got down and headed into the building.

  - W-wait! Wh-what's going on? You shouted, trying to stay on the horse. Turning his head, the man looked at you and grinned, - Well, well, don't worry, it's already over -before he could say the last words, you began to hear the screams of the maids from the manor. A chill ran through your skin.

  - Do you see? I told you it's over, now we're back together. - He said with a smirk on his face, looking straight into your eyes.

He was right, now you're back together.

[vitzi9]

Pretty gifts

Joker X GN!Reader

TW/CW: reader is androgynous, murders, talking about kys, work in catering (it needs its own warning), reader curses a lot, mention of vomit, stalker, reader throws up, racism, Gotham is hell and fuck capitalism, blood, violence

tbh i'm a little sad bc nobody ever give their opinion on my works. I put another divider (like the red heart below) in the middle of the story, not really to separate as it's following directly but bc some people find my stories too long so it's like a checkpoint. So when you leave, you know where you were. (It's really long)

also the end is a little weird bc I have no idea if this fandom is still alive so, yeah :) if people are reading, I might continue it. Thing is some ppl find this Joker ugly so...

I hope you'll enjoy this. (19/02/2024) (17k)

You weren't weird by any mean, okay ? Life in Gotham is just really hard. You got harassed, robbed and assaulted more times than you can count. And each time by a new profile type ! Old, young or teen, it doesn't matter, everyone is desperate.

Some of your colleagues at work are prostituting themselves and you for sure considerate selling feet pictures.

That's how life is in Gotham.

But weird ? You stare at the angry man before you, unimpressed. You can't believe he called you weird as well as an incestuous result. You're neither of these. Fuck, how is weird and incestuous his first thought when insulting someone ? Like, he could've called you a fucker, a bitch... Anything !

Your aggressor, if you can even call him that after this, shows you his middle finger while walking background. Quickly though, he loses his balance and fall on the ground. Well, at least he didn't beat you up !

You already got assaulted for your money, which you don't even have, you got two jobs and barely reach the minimal wage. But at the end of the day they, well, stole the few you have, you know ? When you think about it, he strongly smelled like alcohol. That's probably why he failed his attempt.

Even stealing is death here. You never know who you're facing. Hell, just yesterday a guy was killed because he tried to assault some big chief of a mob. Someone with a clown face. TV says the man's limbs were still not all found.

Shit, getting killed by a clown must be mad humiliating too.

You sigh, trying to ease your tired traits by passing your hand on your face. At least the day is over, right ? Another day closer to death. You drag your suddenly much more heavier body on some few meters/yards more, silently praying that no one else will bother you.

Thankfully, your cries were heard. Pushing the old creaking door of the building, you rush to the mailbox. Never have you been comfortable staying long here. The door is only behind you and you don't know if someone is able to enter with bad intention.

Speaking of the devil...

No mail except for this weird card yet again. It's cardboard displaying a drawing of a joker, withdrawn from a poker package. It's certainly not the first time someone pull this kind of joke on you. Though, you have no idea who this is and it creeps you out a little. You turn the card to see if a message was left and sadly, (or not) you were right.

You've been trying to understand who this was for a long time now but in a big city like yours, with god knows who or what ? It's just impossible.

As always, you hate to think this because you don't want this creepy card to become part of your habit, a messy handwriting greets you in black ink.

"I'm everywhere in this city, no one can touch me yet some are fond of me."

You stopped school kind of early so your IQ is probably not high enough for you to understand that. Plus, you don't fucking want to.

You grab the card with you in order to throw it once at home and rush to the stairs (some says someone got killed in the elevator plus it's not working since months so you're not taking it anymore). Finally home. Your hallway still smells like piss and a deadly cold reign here (Nobody knows why). Two of the four bulb of the ceiling has burnt out and a faint static noise is resonating in the whole property.

This building is not even in a neighborhood that bad. But in Gotham, not that bad is still bad. Because bad is sleeping to the sound of gunshot and broken windows. While here, there's still these but not as often as in bad neighborhood. But you can add the moans hearable in the night in it as well.

Your building is really old though, which explains (partially) the bad state it's in.

Taking out the key off your pocket, you start to unlock the door. Unconsciously, your mind goes back to the card of the day. "I'm everywhere"... What's everywhere? There's air. But they specified 'in this city' so air might be too simple.

No one can touch me yet some are fond of me.

You can't touch air and you're not sure people are fond of it particularly. Like, air's fine. It's cool as fuck but are you fond of it ? No. Then what is it ?

You didn't even realize you were looking at the card again, your door wide open while standing in the middle of the hallway ridiculously. Slapping yourself mentally for being so careless, you enter and close the door and all your locks shut.

Some are fond of me, huh ?

In Gotham, what are people even fond of ? Misfortune you'd say. These fuckers love to see others suffer and even make sure they do by engaging in others people life.

But you don't know if that's really the answer. Damn, can't they just give you simple question? Or even better: stop giving you any ?

You drop your bag on the floor, slouching your shoulders and throwing yourself on the couch. Fuck, you hate your life. Why are you even here? You don't deserve this life. Nobody does !

Haphazardly moving your hand, you end up successfully grabbing the remote. You need to empty your mind, or have a background noise at least.

The screen lights up displaying you the newest information girl. The last man disappeared after he made the mistake of letting show his politic side. It's obvious everyone is corrupted here but the mystery in this story is ; who erased him ? It could be mob, politics themselves, everyone.

This city is lost.

The woman is talking about the incessant inflation and how numerous factories and business saw themselves forced to close for good. You just hope your business won't shut down, you need money. What if it does close, though ? You were already sweating trying to live with two jobs, but what if you end up jobless ?

It'll be impossible for you to pay anything. To keep your apartment. To eat. What are you supposed to do if this happens ? You already thought about that and all of your long reflection session always end up on one conclusion: kill yourself.

Because there's no way you're living without job in Gotham while being in the streets. You would have left the city if you had money or even family out there but it's not the case. So yeah, killing yourself that is.

Sure it looks a little extreme but isn't earth overpopulated anyway ?

It's better than being killed. At least, you choose your death ! But you're gonna hope this still won't happen. Up to now, your job is yours so taking such drastic measures won't be necessary. And you hope it'll stay this way.

Damn, you're depressed again. You drown out your worries by hiding your face in your couch's pillow. Man, what capitalism is doing to one.

You switch the channel without looking where your fingers pressed, this time a man is talking. He's saying something about a criminal and quoting every one of his crime. It was going crescendo, at first robbery, assault and burglary but just next to all of that was terrorism and mass murder.

You want to turn your head and watch the profile of this man but are too weak to move. So you simply listen closely to the man voice to get answers.

"Yes, he's a dangerous criminal and he's in town. He already break free from Arkham asylum twice now. If one of you see this man; do not engage, hide and call the police immediately. He is incredibly unstable and may not be alone. If you think you can win against him, you're wrong. He's a manipulative man and a mastermind. If you're seen by him, you better start to pray. Ends the man on a serious tone. Man, this guy knows how to reassure people...

-Indeed, a true monster. But please do not scare our audience. Batman was able to capture him twice, we'll be fine. The man chuckles but does not sound really honest. To answer all the questions you've been a lot to send us, we'll have the pleasure of meeting mister Harvey Dent here, chief of the police department to answer your worries. Harvey Dent ?"

And the voice switched to the other man. You like Harvey Dent. You like to think he's the only man in Gotham who's not corrupted. He's helping the citizens. Unlike that Wayne man. This guy could single-handedly resolve the poverty problem, but does he do it ? Of course not. He's rich after all, why should he care for bum like you ?

Harvey Dent is talking but you're not listening. All you know is that he's trying to ease the population. The men on TV are always saying the same things: empty promises. How the police is already taking care of the problem, that it'll be better soon. Like the police isn't already too fucking busy harassing the wrong people.

Harvey Dent is your last hope. The only man who can change things.

You deeply hope his promises aren't as empty as the other man before him. You turn off the TV and relax in the silence of your flat for a moment, breathing in the perfume impregnated in your couch.

There's screams outside. You can't tell if it's the neighbors or someone outside. Either way, you stand up feeling your eyelids getting heavier by each passing second.

But before leaving to your room, you stop in front of your window and stare outside for a moment. It's nighttime now. The city won't go to sleep, oh no, it's just waking up. The police can already be heard in the distance with its loud sirens. This city really is chaotic. It's just everywhere, you can't escape it. Touching it isn't even possible, you can't grasp it, nor resolve it completely; it's in the air. You can't fight against it. Nobody fights against it.

Fuck, it's like they're fond of it, here.

Chaos, it's scary when you think about it. Because you can't guess what's going to happen. There was a time when you thought that anarchists could be right but if anarchy looks like this, you don't want it anymore. You just want some peace and respect. But it seems too much to ask for Gotham.

You fucking hate chaos.

The next morning, your limbs were so sore you almost didn't make it on time to work. Your boss reprimanded you about your delay, pressuring you by recalling you the time one of your colleagues got fired for it. You were only late of something like one or two minutes but it didn't matter to him.

He only wanted to feel superior. He didn't even need real reasons to yell at you.

The restaurant wasn't packed. Only the usual rich families wanting to spend a pleasant day. They were here to eat breakfast. You try not to think too much about the fact that one single of their jewelry is equal to your salary.

The streets were alive; people running, cars honking. Your colleague hitting your shoulder to bring you back to earth, everything is normal.

"You think you can ask Mike to make another one ? she asks you with a sweet voice. The kid threw a tantrum. It's not salted enough and he hates sausages.

You lift up your eyes towards the crying kid in the back. Cold eyes stuck to his face. You're sure he specifically asked for sausage. You're the one who wrote down his order. And the salt ? Can't he just fucking put some himself?

-Don't question it. They're regulars. Plus, I don't think having beef with a kid is good for our reputation." Tells you your friend after seeing the death look you were giving him.

So you take the plate that looked absolutely perfect and delectable to bring it to Mike. Mike is an old man once passionate about cooking. Now he's forty three and stuck cooking eggs and toast to some crying kids.

"No fucking sausage and more salt please. you say, throwing the plate on the counter in a loud clatter. The man laughs at your anger and don't even need to ask to understand. 'Got it boss !' is your answer.

You lay your weight on the counter, back meeting the freezing temperature of it. Different smells invade your senses; fresh bread, warm oil and eggs. Well, lot of different smells were here as well but they're the one that really stuck out to you.

"You were late this morning right ? Did the client touched their plate ? You can eat it otherwise, it looks fine.

-Because it is, it was made by the best cook of Gotham after all.

The man laughs, mimicking someone blushing by putting his hands on his cheeks. He tells you that you're lying and that you're saying that to flatter him only. Mike had buzzed his hair a few months ago but they were back already; small rough curls mocking him.

You sigh and look back at the plate, it did look really fine. The kid hadn't even touched it ! The eggs and the bread were intact, left in the same state it was neatly put in earlier.

You spend your sweet time talking with Mike before your boss comes in infuriated, ordering you to come back at the front. And you're forced to do so. Grabbing a water jug on your way and putting on a fake smile, you walk towards a new family sitting so straight your back hurts just looking at them.

All of them laid down their menu and are waiting. You arrive, apologizing for the wait. 'Have you decided ?' you ask while putting the water on the table. The man takes the menu and start listing his orders without a smile nor even a look in your direction. The woman is busy keeping her children calm and asking them to calm down. The other tables are side-eyeing her while the husband doesn't even acknowledge his wife.

"Noted, you smile and turn your head to stare at the woman for her to start ordering.

She smiles awkwardly, and tells you her kids orders before ordering for herself. You thank them, "I'll be right back." and you leave to the kitchen. You sigh, scotch the orders on the wall, grabs the plate left for you to take and head back to the crying kid from earlier. The demon who ordered fucking sausage before saying he hated them.

But as soon as you place the plate before him with a smile, the kid slams his fists on the table resulting in his glass of water to splash on you and break on the floor. The mother gasps while the dad gives a slap in his son's head without even you registering the whole situation. Your clothes are completely soaked, you want to say something but his mother is sending daggers at you with her eyes and you know not to mess with this stupid fucking family.

Did he did it on purpose ? Yes. Are you gonna say something ? No.

"It's okay, I love children." you don't.

And you leave. Deeply humiliated. But you can't do anything. Because you're no one compared to them, they're gonna win. Always. Your friend asks if you're okay, you shrug. She's unable to question you further as she has to continue working. You head to the back in search of a broom.

The small closet is all the way behind the kitchen and you're already tired just thinking about it. Once you're in, you frenetically search for your item only for a shelf to fall apart behind you and destroy itself on the ground. You bite your lower lip with all your strength to retain you from crying and cursing the whole world.

It's okay, it's just a shelf. It's okay, you try to think but it's hard when it's not even noon and too much shit already happened to you.

You crouch down and start gathering everything you can when your eyes falls upon another one of these poker card. You frown and take it in your hands, examining it deeply. Uh, wow, okay. It's a little weird. You just happen to receive these daily in your mailbox and suddenly there's one here. Okay, totally normal.

You stand up, looking around you for an answer, trying to see if a camera is here somewhere. But nothing. So you turn the card to read the new message: You need one to live, I often rip it apart and yours is mine to steal. A heart ? you immediately think. You definitely need one to live and the sentence 'steal your heart' is kinda famous. But rip it apart ? Is it, like, a metaphor ? Glancing back quickly, you notice a small note left in the bottom right corner of the card. It reads: what a shitty shelf.

You laugh nervously, your breath getting stuck in your throat. What the actual fuck ? it's not even funny, what the hell ? Sorry for the fucking shelf ? They knew this was going to happen ? You definitely have to talk to someone.

You pass your hand on your face, rubbing it strongly as if to wake you up from a bad dream. Then you take the broom and head back.

Rushing to the kitchen, you accidentally pushes someone in your haste. You see Mike from afar and don't even need to approach him that you yell your question for everyone to hear:

"Mike, do you happen to play poker ?" the man faces you, his confused expression told it all, he didn't. And from the other's cook faces, they probably all thought that you were crazy. None of them looking guilty. But you'll investigate that later.

Not wasting any seconds, you almost run to the main room to find your friend. Luckily for you, she's cleaning glasses at the bar.

"Hey, is it yours ?" you're a little out of breath when showing her the joker card. Your friend simply shakes her head. When you asked her if she knew if one of your colleagues was playing poker, she shrugged and told you she didn't know with an apologetic smile.

"Why ? she asks.

-It's complicated." you say.

It can't be from the same person, right ? If it is anyway, that probably means one of your colleagues is the one putting these at your place. Which is a terrifying idea because you sure never gave your address to anyone here. Trying to see the bright side of it all, that means that you may know your 'joker'. And if that's the case, there's a way for you to stop them. It's better than the cards coming from a total stranger, because you can't act against them. You'll probably leave some clues at work to see and trap your joker.

The rest of the day was terribly hard. You were dying from the inside. Your tummy was growling like a beast; you did not have the time to eat. As you're juggling between two jobs, your boss thought that he had to exploit you as much as he could before you left. Because you're joining the bar, your second working place, at two pm.

"You're gonna leave in the middle of the day, when most people are coming. I'm losing money here, you see ?" he had said to you that day. Yeah, he does not give you any breaks because to him, you don't need one as you leave earlier. Of course you tried to negotiate and he was agreeing with you, on the condition that he pays you less.

"Mike, I'm leaving. you tell him, taking off your apron. Have a nice day, say hi to your kids for me." he smiles warmly to you, wave and you're out of the room in a quarter of seconds. You already bid goodbye to your friend so all you had to do now was to leave.

Putting on your jacket, your thoughts can't stop but think back about this other card you found. Yours is mine to steal. In what sense ? You could've thought it was some creepy flirting but it's just too much. You found these at home, at work. Everywhere. Are they going to rip your heart apart, too ? Are these threats ?

Hopping in the bus, you try to stay away from Gotham's crackhead as much as possible but it's hard when they're drunk and staring at you like they want to beat the shit out of you.

Fortunately, your stop arrives and you hurry to get out. It's 2:36 PM (14:36), the bar is not open yet but cleaning and organizing everything is part of your contract.

It's at five pm (17h) that you open the bar, standing behind your counter and waiting patiently for clients to arrive. You're happy Sean is here. He's a big man of 2m3 (~6'8), practices combat sport and knows how to handle different weapons. In a neighborhood like this, you're more than grateful to have him.

He's also the son of the owner. So it's really just the two of you here. The first persons starts entering the place and it quickly fills up entirely. It's quite a famous area, cops never comes here as mobs are doing their own laws. Sean puts on some background music you can't even hear anymore over the loud voices of the men laughing cavernously.

You're busy serving people's drinks. Moving as fast as you could but it being hard when your thoughts are plagued by cards and your mind is not here. Who's this joker man ?

The street lamp are all finally on, meaning it was past seven already. You didn't even see time pass, the incessant flirting and bickering of the men here enough to keep you from being alone with your thoughts.

"Thanks baby." says a young man when you give him his beer. He has a really bad scar going from his forehead to his lower lip. It's no surprise, you saw men with less limbs, other talking unknowns languages, some with sight or hearing completely lost. Sometimes normal people like you would come, women even but more rarely as the men here were true animals.

You wonder what type of people there is with you tonight. You're not naive enough to think all of them are innocent, in fact, you're sure 85% of your client here are criminals. This bar is situated apart from the city, in a corner more secluded with abandoned looking buildings and scary dark alleys you certainly don't want to visit at night, or even at day for that matter.

This place sucks.

Honestly, with your cards problem, you even considered engaging a spy to see who put these creepy notes in your mailbox. But two things prevented you to do so; first, you do not want to do business with criminals, second; there was a chance that your joker was one of your client.

Some of your clients here probably have mental illness as well, worsening their state. And maybe someone fixated on you and decided to follow you home. It'd be really awkward to engage a man to scare your joker away, only for him to be the same person you're trying to avoid.

But now this idea starts to disappear. You found a card at work after all, your boss is not stupid enough to let anyone break in. So the criminal track wasn't the one. It's one of your colleagues. There's just no way one of the bar's client could have followed you home and at the restaurant.

But on the other hand, it's difficult to see one of your colleagues following you home too. Because after working at the restaurant, you're not heading home right away. You're working here. Is it possible they waited outside until you finished ?

"A whisky for me." is what tears you away from your misery.

You do not look up, instead turning your back to him and reaching the shelves to search for the bottle. You grab a glass, throwing ice cubes in it and pouring the harsh liquid in. You then slide it to him, he nods and drink a first long gulp.

You follow his arm to his face before blocking on it. It's a man with a skin so pale it's getting worrying. His eye bag are terribly dark that you thought he had put black eye-shadow on them. And for a second, you truly thought it was the case. He had really bad scars going from each corner of his lips up to his cheeks, like a badly drawn smile. In the small crevices of his scarred skin, there was faint white and red paint, or make-up that did not left during shower. Is he like, a mime or a clown ? He looks like he haven't showered for a while, no judgements or anything, but his green hair are greasy.

He continues to savor his drink quietly while you're here, astonished by such weird scars. You saw scars, a lot of them. But they all looked accidental, caused by self defense or anything. But his clearly looked volunteer. You could clearly see that the goal was to create some sick form of smile, whether it is successful or not. What the hell happened to this guy ? Has he been tortured ? Did he make these to himself ?

'You got some nasty scars' you want to say. But the wicked grin he gives you is enough to make you gulp and smile awkwardly. Of course he saw you looking at him, you did not move an inch/millimeters. And he does not look like the type of guy to be nice.

"D'you like them ?

-Sorry ? you blinked.

-My scars. Do you like them ?

-Uh, yeah, yeah.

Fucking creepy. What the hell ? What did he do to have those ? Why is he even asking you this ? Why is he looking at you like that ?

-Do you want to know how I got them ?

-No." you answer at the mere second he ended his question, by pure fear he was going to destroy you. Or try to recreate those scars on you. Hey, you never know.

The man grins and chuckles at the quickness of your answer and stops talking for a while. Did you just escape death ? You think so.

He stopped drinking, though. You try to look busy but you're just organizing and disorganizing things on loop. Sean is having the time of his life chatting with the clients towards the tables area. But you, you're stuck behind the counter. You can't even count the times you got your ass slapped or got whistled. Plus, some of these guys often try to threaten you with knifes to make you give them free drinks.

It could've work if Sean wasn't here.

But it's comical in a sense. The morning, you're busy being the little dog, the little slave of these stuck rich people crying when their plate arrives one minute late, with prices on the menu so high it's clearly a scam for some eggs and bacon. With a ground so perfectly clean you could lick it.

And at night, you're here. Surrounded by criminals, drunkards and God knows who. With bad music taste rumbling in the background and place so dirty you could throw up and not even see it through the trash lingering on the ground. Well, in your defense, because you're the one cleaning, it was clean before. But everyone arrives with their disgusting shoes or bleeding and then they spill their drinks, and they fight and, yeah. At the end of the day, this place is a mess.

Your back is still facing the mime guy but you know he's staring at you. You know it because you can't stop shuddering. Your works are sure keeping you in touch with reality at least, you've seen both extreme.

"What's your name ?" You face him, afraid to offend this weirdo.

Telling him your name out of all the people ? Never. Smiling the best you can, you tell him your coworker name from the restaurant. He grins like a Cheshire cat, his smile accentuated by his prominent scars, nodding. You know better than to ask him back his name, he's probably, surely, a criminal. You don't have a death wish at the moment. You usually don't like to lie but this job at the bar taught you better.

-You know, he starts again and you pray he does not start to harass you with questions, he licks his lower lip before continuing. There's one thing I truly hate in this world. He pauses. You wanna know what ?

-Tell me. You say reluctantly, not wanting to anger him.

He lays one of his elbows on the counter, raising a brow and looking around him as if going to tell you a secret he wants no one else but you to know. Then, he looks at you again, a mysterious glint in his eyes.

-Liars.

Oh.

-They're such... he squints his eyes, moving his hand in the air to the flow of his thoughts. Vicious, little bitch, you know ? If we want to change things, he licks his lips, they're the first people that have to go. Don't you think ?

-Yes, I'm with you on that. you hurry to answer, nodding frenetically, feeling your blood run cold and a sweat cross your spine. Myself I really can't stand lying, you know ? Liars are really bad, they're manipulative and all. you were just trying to save your ass at this point. You received a lot of threats in your life, but this man right here ? There was something deeply wrong with him. He was fucking traumatizing you. You did not want to mess with him.

The only thing plaguing your thoughts is; does he know ? Does he know you lied about your name ? Because he specifically asked this question right after you presented yourself. Does he know ? No, no he doesn't. How is he supposed to know you ? You don't even have any name tag on.

The man chuckles deeply before you, licking very briefly his lips again; is that a tic ?

-What's his name ? he asks, looking straight to Sean, as if judging his soul. Does he have to stare at people like he wants to kill them all the time ?

Now you understand. He scared the shit out of you to ensure you wouldn't be lying to him. And now he's testing you. Why, you don't know. But you answer honestly this time. He smiles mischievously. Maybe that wasn't even his plan, maybe he's just deeply weird and unsettling. Maybe he doesn't even know you ever lied to him. Maybe you see things where there's none.

If there's one thing Gotham has taught you, it's to be wary of everyone.

-Are you fucking him ? he asks again, still looking at Sean laughing with the others.

-Why ? this thought never even crossed your mind before. Why would you fuck Sean ? He's nice, he's good looking but, you don't know, you wouldn't fuck him. You just, don't want to ? He's a friend.

-He's quite the tall guy. Are you fucking him ? he insists, ignoring completely your question.

Wow, that is getting incredibly uncomfortable and personal. You know you're supposed to entertain them and all but damn, this guy is killing you. You throw a glance in Sean's direction, hoping to catch his attention so he could help you but he's busy laughing with other clients.

-Why're looking at him ? I'm the one talking.

-I don't think this is appropriate, Sir. It's quite the personal questions you're asking me here. you laugh nervously, hoping to relax the mood but the man before you doesn't even react. Can I maybe offer you another drink ? It'll help...

-You got something to hide ? he licks his lips.

What. The. Fuck.

-I have to stay mysterious in order for you to come back, right ? you do not want this weirdo to come back, but that's the default sentence you usually say to avoid answering intimate questions.

But the make-up man does not insist, he gives you a cheeky grin.

-You want me to come back ? How flattering.

Most of the time, what you implies when saying this is that you want them to come back to consume more, so you have more money because you're kinda the bartender of this place. But this guy just plainly wants to fuck you up. Where's Sean when you need him the most ?

It's like no one around you is seeing you. They're all drinking their sadness, trauma, day away, not caring that a creepy guy is keeping you in his weird conversation you clearly do not want to participate in.

-Do you want to play a game with me ?

-I'm... Quite busy, actually. So...

But he knows you, now. He knows you're a bad little liar. Listening to you is now optional to him; he clearly doesn't care. The man stands up and you start to get scared. What is he going to do ? Is he going to hurt you ? Your hand is holding firmly the bat under the counter, fingers shaking with adrenaline. You never used a weapon before, less against someone. You never hurt someone, intentionally at least.

Sean, move your ass over here, now.

The man grins, eyes trailing your arms. He knows you're hiding something under this counter, but can he blame you ? You're surrounded by criminals, he's one himself ! It's impossible to know what to expect. Honestly, you're ready to scream to get attention and get helped. Even if there's high possibilities for a general fighting to start resulting in this poor bar to be destroyed.

But the man does not try to hurt you, he smiles, put his hands in his pocket and you now realize how well he's dressed for someone like him. A nice and well maintained purple suit.

"It makes me live and follow you at dark, keeps me up at night and makes you fall apart."

No...

-Who am I ?" He ends slowly, torturing you.

Your shoulders slouched down, tension leaving your hand on the bat. Your body become a big, useless puddle. Eyes as big as owl ones.

"I-I don't want to play. Your stutter had gave away your uneasy feeling, you step back, eyeing this man from head to toe.

You've come to despise those damn riddles. You don't want to hear more of them.

-But this one's so simple sweetheart. He mocks you. It starts with a pretty little O and ends with a N. I'm sure you'll find out.

You shake your head slowly; no, it's not simple, no, you don't want to find out, no, you don't fucking want to listen to him. But he simply chuckles, relatively amused by such a big reaction. Well, with that kind of huge revelation, you can't quite control yourself.

He's rummaging through his pocket, heart almost leaving you. What is he searching for ? A weapon ? What is he thinking ? But against all odds, the joker man takes out something so small you can't even see it behind his palm. You know he's doing it on purpose, hiding it from you to destroy you more, to see the look of surprise, fear or shock, or... Whatever, on your face.

-That's my business card, as a little... Reminder." You deeply doubt someone like him own any business, less business card. So what is he going to give you ?

He lays gently his hand on the counter right before you, not letting you see what he was hiding until he removed completely his hand, confirming your theory of him hiding it on purpose. You'd recognize them anytime. Your heart is beating faster, so fast you're scared it might explode. Nothing is written on the side you're staring at, you grab the cardboard, praying that it's just a crazy coincidence even if the drawing of the joker smiling stupidly on the card is taunting you.

But when you turn the card, the answer is given to you. For the first time since you've started to receive these.

-Obsession." you sigh, breath getting stuck in your throat. You were petrified. "You're... You're the joker man." you say in a shaky voice. Was it finally him ? Answers, you needed answers. But when you looked up, the man had disappeared. Leaving you with nothing but deep fear.

Silent tears slide on your cheeks, you bring your hand to your mouth in order to hide your muffles. Looking back at the card, you feel your legs give up under you when your real name is written in bold black letters in a bottom corner. Bile is rushing to your throat.

It's him. He's the one sending you these.

But you don't know him. You don't fucking know this man. And he's a criminal. You're fucked. Smiling like a madman, you start to laugh nervously, not realizing the situation. It's a joke, right ? You cough, progressively choking on your saliva. You bite your lower lip so hard it starts bleeding. You pray, you pray so hard this man isn't your stalker but you're lying to yourself. It's literally the worst case scenario that could happen.

You've never seen this man in your entire fucking life. Where does he even come from ? Why you ? Why him ? With his fucking creepy scars and fucking riddles. He knows your address ! Your name ! What else does he know ?

"You okay there ?" You nod without even looking at the person talking to you. You choke out a quick answer before rushing to the back towards the private toilet.

Immediately collapsing to the ground, you throw up everything you had in you, which wasn't a lot to begin with. You barely even ate anything. But you can't stop. You empty yourself, only vomiting water.

Sean finally comes get you, he rubs your back and help you get up. "What happened ?" He asks you.

"I don't fucking know." Is the only thing you can muster.

What you do know however, is that you're scared to go home.

"Are you heading home tonight ?" You ask him, voice hoarse. "Well, yeah" is his answer. So you asked him, begged him to come with you. Because you were horrified by the mere idea of going home alone. Maybe he would be here.

"You can come to mine if ya want." he offers. And you think that the guy from yesterday probably was right, you were weird. Why aren't you going to the cops, after all ? Probably because they'll think you're lying, that you're insane. A joker ? Harassing you with riddles ? You'll end up in a asylum in no time.

But wouldn't you be safer in a asylum ?

When Sean and you closed the bar, it was already well past one am. You didn't had the strength to redo this all over again tomorrow. But Sean was of good company, cheering you up and trying to ease your mind. Multiples times he tried to ask what was wrong, but he guessed it alone. "Was it that weird customer in purple ? The one with the suit ? I saw him lingering a really long time at the counter." You shrugged when he said that, completely worn out. What could he even do against him anyway ? The Joker man wasn't known to any of you. It was a lost cause.

Chatting with your friends wasn't even crossing your mind, you were terrified. The long walk to his apartment was as quiet as a church. What the fuck were you going to do now ? You were dead, yes, you were just dead at this point. What can you even do against some psycho following you around ? Fight back ? Yeah, if you have a death wish. You have to get out of this city, there's no other plan. But how ? And to go where ?

"We're here." says Sean. You've never been to his apartment's before, and to be honest, you would have preferred for it to happen in other circumstances. Trying to escape a criminal wasn't in this year plan.

Before you stood a tumbledown grey building, not much different from yours in reality. After all, Sean's not that rich, he's payed like you and live with his dad's payment. Though, you're pleasantly surprised to see the coziness of his place.

Warm lights were turned on, his sofa looked quite mellow and the general smell of the apartment was lovely. Not that you're judging him, but you wouldn't have thought he was such a clean guy. Because he's like, well, some kind of mafia man. So, yeah, he often smells like sweat and dirt himself, it's a surprise his place is so neat. Sure, it's damaged by humidity then and there, there's cracks in the walls but so do yours. The paint is peeling in some areas as well, you're used to it enough to not notice it. You take off your shoes, but keep your jacket. Probably in search of a safe feeling, maybe by fear of being vulnerable.

"You can sit on the couch, I'll order something.

You don't even have the will to eat right now, the ugly feeling everything entering your body might be threw back out instantly bothering you too much. However, you did sit on the couch. It smelt like him; you hated it. You were violating his property, his intimacy. You shouldn't be here.

But do you really have a choice ?

Sean is talking in the background, on the phone, yet, not a single word is understood by you. It's like he's speaking a whole new language. The red flowers on his TV stand keeps reminding you of the joker's card and his damn hat.

He hung up, that you heard, and left for another room. You hate to bother him, he probably only wanted to go home and sleep after a hard day but you messed up his plans. Grabbing the remote, you turn on the TV to empty your mind. You search for series, documentary or cartoons, only to be disappointed at the sight of obnoxious ads.

You end up watching the news, it being the sole channel not drowned in ads. A woman is speaking in a professional neutral voice, wearing a white shirt. She talks about the inflation killing our country before going onto her next subject; the outgrowing insecurity. The two preoccupation of the government, or at least, what they want you all to think about.

From what she says, a hold-up happened in a bank yesterday, in plain sight. (Why do they talk about it now, you don't now.) The building stank laughing gas. Only one man declares having seen the main suspect. Her chair slides to the side, leaving space for the video to appear and for the victim to testify; "Green disgusting hair and some fucked up clown make-up. That's the only thing I saw. He has no value, I'm telling you, criminals used to believe in things ! He has no respect for anyone, he killed his own team ! He's gonna come back for me, I'm sure of..." and he's erased from the screen at his outburst, for everyone to forget his trauma.

Did he say clown ?

"Indeed, the woman vigorously resumes, a faint smile on, was she laughing at the victim ? green hair and clown make-up is on brand today as everyone only talks about this mysterious criminal. After disappearing for months, the troublemaker is back in town and seems unstoppable. But has he truly ever gone away ?

It's not the same man, right ? No, no of course not. If he's a famous criminal, he has better things to do than harass insignificant useless civilians like you with stupid riddles. He robbed a bank ! Why would he even look in your direction? Fuck, what if he thinks you have some kind information? What if he think you're related to a criminal ? What if you are ?

-He calls himself Joker, always wears his clown make up and has a habit of wandering at night." The woman straightens her posture and clasps her hands together. "After yesterday's fiasco, the famous criminal already perpetrated his next attack. Earlier, at noon, the biggest hospital of the city was targeted. Cops were able to evacuate everyone urgently. Gotham is in shamble, people are afraid and angry. The police is trying to calm the crowds, in vain." Images are shown behind her of people running, yelling, stretchers evacuating and flashing cops car during her speech.

She continues talking but you stopped listening when finally a picture of the Joker was displayed on the screen, his face horrifyingly reminding you something. Too many information are going to your brain in so little time. You try to rationalize everything but it's hard when your mind is too tired to cooperate.

He's called the Joker. And you happen to receive joker cards. He wears make up. The man at the bar looked like he did. Hyperventilating is the only thing seemingly still possible from your body. You stand up, inking, sinking, learning, engraving his face to memory.

Two big scars, both going from each corner of his mouth to his cheeks.

Like a badly drawn smile.

"Sean !" you call. Your friend runs out of the bathroom, disheveled, shirt loose and no pants, only in underwear. He rushed out, scared something had happened. Your shaking pointer aim at the TV screen, at the face of the man on it. "It's him. He was at the bar."

When Sean looks at the man, a chill runs down his spine. He understands what might have happened earlier. He could see the purple suit the man had on on the picture, which was the exact same one he saw at the bar. Fuck, it is the same man. He knows the Joker, hell, everyone knows him here.

And that's bad news.

He's everywhere in everyone business. He has no sense of loyalty whatsoever, killing even his best allies and no one has the slightest clue what he wants. At the bar, he probably scared the shit out of you, he probably threatened you, too. Why, it's impossible to know. He's quite the unpredictable.

-Don't worry, he says, he probably forgot about you already. He's a scary man, likes to shock people a little. He always attack for a reason and you're not a criminal, so you're good."

But you couldn't believe it. He does not have all the information. He doesn't know about the tons of cards you received until now. Eyes completely stuck to the screen, you observe the face before you, knowing you probably wouldn't be able to escape him.

Somehow, this emission confirmed to you that he was real, that you weren't dreaming. And that you really were in it deeply.

Sean insists you shower to relax a little bit, you're holding onto the remote for dear life, nails digging in your palm. When in the bathroom, your eyes automatically gravitates towards the mirror, discovering your new face scarred by sleepless nights and cries. You're almost scared of your reflection. Sighing, your hands find themselves in your pockets alone but you're startled by the coldness they are greeted with. What have you in your pocket that is freezing like that ?

Your unease comes back in a rush when you take out another one of these cards from your jacket. Are you for real going crazy ? What is going on ? When did this get here ? How did it get here ? It's your damn jacket ! You had it in the work closet all day !

You're tired and doing this little fucked up game is not doing any good. A greasy almost wiped red is the first thing you see, his lips, you guess. He wears some kind of paint as lip stick, he fucking kissed the card, creepy bastard.

Turning the stiff paper, your eyes meet once again one of these painful riddle.

"I'm everywhere, you can't escape me and I'm coming for you. Who am I ?" tears slide quietly on your cheeks, the only sane reaction your emotionless state can give. You're not even moving, eyes staying fixated on the card; the tears are just physical. Body exhausted from it all. What is this now ? You know he's not talking about an object anymore, he's talking about himself. It's not riddles, it's threats. He's coming for you, what is he going to do ? Kill you ? Torture you, or worse ?

The shower did nothing to ease your nerves, you've never been so tensed in your life. What could you even do against this man ?

When Sean called you to eat, you let him know you weren't feeling the slightest hunger. He said nothing, simply keeping a plate for you on the kitchen counter.

You did not even blink an eye that night, paranoid at the slightest noise, a knife slept cautiously under your cushion. The windows and doors were completely shut and you would have loved to do the very same thing to your brain. You fell asleep, eventually, when you should have been up.

Sean was still asleep when you awoke the next day. You were late, and terribly so, the clicking clock on the wall warning you. It was already way past nine. You don't like to leave his house without even thanking him for his hospitality once again. But you'll see him tonight, at the bar. You'll probably have to quit, though. Not yet, as you have to secure another job. You can't risk being here without money, after all. Joker knows where you work at, no way you're staying more than necessary. But... he has to know about your restaurant job too, somehow.

You had a card in the closet, with his stupid shelf trap, after all.

You're safer there, maybe. It's quite the chic area. There's camera, people. Socialites are here, nobody attacks socialites. Usually, at least. Doubts subsists, the journalist on the TV affirmed the Joker attacked in the middle of the day, in plain sight. Would he attack the rich ? They're untouchable, their lawyer always know what to do and they know everyone. You can't kill a famous advocate, right ? It's like attacking the mayor. Remembering his face, you keep the unsettling impression he could kill anyone.

Fuck.

You take a piece of paper, write a few words on it, scotch it on the fridge and leave, dashing outside to not worsen your lateness. You were dead, oh you were so dead. Late couldn't even describe your situation by now. You boss was going to kill you, de-materialize you and send you in another world.

You ran until your legs couldn't support you anymore, people were side-eyeing you in the streets. Certainly thinking of you as some kind of thief or at the very least a criminal of some sort.

Jumping in the nearest bus, your legs being too weak to support you anymore, you finally arrive at your workplace ten minutes later. It was quarter to ten.

You're breathless, rushing once again to the rear of the restaurant. You push the back door open but to your surprise, it won't budge. What ? The guys never lock the door that early in the morning, they know you'll arrive, eventually. You knock a few times, knowing you had the key anyway but if someone was passing by inside, it would be quicker.

You don't have to wait that long as your boss himself is the one opening it for you, as if waiting beside it until your entry. He probably was. He crosses his arms on his chest, eyes glaring holes in you. Damn, you'll have to fight with him, again. You promised him you wouldn't be late anymore, he will never trust you again.

Well, it's not like he trusted you much before to begin with.

"Listen, I'm terribly sorry I'm late but... he scoffs.

-As If that was the only problem ! The man tightens his jaw, talking between his teeth. He approaches his head to yours, almost colliding your forehead together; he talks lowly, scared to be heard. You know damn well what's wrong.

Wow, okay. You were not expecting his reaction to be that dramatic. You're just (incredibly) late. It's not new. What's gotten into him ? You squint your eyes, at a loss of words.

-I was just... You start, ready to recite him once again your preposterous apologies.

-I don't give a fuck about you being late, he cracks, get out of here now ! You are not to put a single of your foot in this restaurant anymore ! You're gonna scare my customers ! In the process, a postilion left its house to attack your cheek. You cringe, immediately wiping it with your sleeve, shuddering in disgust.

-What ?

-What, what, he mimics you with a grimace and a weird voice, Get out of here ! He articulates each words slowly as if you were a foreigner, except his tone was harsh and firm. Haven't you seen the news ? If they hear a criminal is working here, I'm screwed.

-A criminal ? But I'm not... I'm, what the hell ? I'm not a criminal Tony.

-Yeah, yeah, and I'm rich ! Get the fuck out of here or at least, do me a favor and let me turn you in to the police." his face changes to disdain, suddenly thoroughly repelled by your being. "Man, you have to be some dirty criminal to have 600 000$ put on your face. What kind of shit have you done, huh ?

Six fucking what ?

-Uh, listen, I think there's some kind of misunderstanding here. I'm no criminal and I'm definitely not worth that much money.

Hell, in all your life, you did not even earn that much money !

-Hey, his tone changed to deviously adopt one sweeter. I don't want any problems okay ? With you, the cops or whoever is fucking wanting you dead. I'm an honest citizen.

What a hypocrite, he was literally yelling at you seconds ago.

You frown, trying to even understand what he's implying. You scratch your cheek, eyeing him from head to toe. He's in a tux, like always. He never do shit here, settling for bossing everyone around while trying to make you believe he's an irreplaceable element in the team.

Judging by his eyes, he is not kidding.

Is he for real firing you ? Just like that ? For some imaginary story he just made up ? Jobless, you will be jobless. He is firing you. A nervous chuckles escapes you, earning you a raise of the brow from Tony. No, oh no no ! You have this job, you did nothing wrong ! Life is already more shitty than it ever been ! Stalker, debts, fucking serial killer wanting your ass and now you lost your main job ? No, that won't do.

You were already planning to leave the bar, how are you supposed to find back two jobs ? One already was an ordeal.

-Honest citizen ? Are you blind ? You were more so than him at the moment. You don't even have an ounce of honesty in your fucking body ! Are you even aware of everything I did for this shitty place ? You can't fire me and you won't because no one else want to be your fucking slave ! Your job is slavery ! I don't want to be some kind of toy you throw away after you've had enough fun with it !

Tony was outraged you could talk to him like that. He was similar to a bourgeois in the eighteenth century, acting shocked after being the most gruesome person alive, putting his hand displayed on his chest and playing innocent.

-Me ? You should be honored to even be working ! You never understand, do you ? You are wanted, that's it ! There's nothing more, nothing less. You are fired. I am not hiring trash.

You hope the worst criminal of this town gets you, right here, for his fucking ugly disgusting restaurant to be destroyed to the very last crumbs. You'll use his body as a human shield while you're at it, after all, what else can he be useful for ?

Your body is boiling like lava. Hitting, jumping, crying, you don't know what you want, need, to do to externalize all of these toxic feelings. Never in your life have you felt more used, humiliated.

You knew he was an asshole, of course. Everyone does, but hell he fired you ! After years of being his toy !

You understand why people in Gotham are crazy. You understand why they suddenly breakdown and fall into crime. Their life, just like yours, was wasted by some self centered prick like him. Some self centered prick who are not even much richer than you, but think they will be when disrespecting you.

Your face isn't even warm, it's seething.

Your life is flashing before you, old friend, family, home, Mike. You won't even be able to pay your rent ! Of course chaos would be loved in a city where trash rules. Why the manifestation are so violent, why insecurity and banditry are prominent ? Because everyone is tired but nobody is listening. Because nobody wants to talk, they think they're at the top of the food chain.

And he won't change his mind. You're fired, that's all. Nothing can alters his decision. It's too late. He probably just created some poor excuses to get you out, you know it. Because you're not a criminal, and no one is giving away 600 000$ for your ass; he's lying. It's too farfetched.

You muster the calmest voice you can get while in such a boiling state, and God knows how hard it is. Wasting more time here is useless, he'll pay but not now, and not by you. You have a new problem: you need to find a job.

-Why don't you kill yourself, Tony ? Right now ? your eyes were empty against his outraged ones. That's why your wife left you, by the way. That's why she left you and took your damn kids. You don't even deserve to live, really, kill yourself, jump, it'll be better for everyone."

You shrug and turn away to never come back. You really hope he disappears forever.

And without anything else to do with your day, you went back home, body functioning by its own. With no diploma and no driving license, how were you supposed to find a job ? You had little experience, mostly having worked in little jobs everywhere. Cashiers, cleaner, babysitting, gardener (you really just cut bushes and mowed the lawn), security guard, fuck, you did it all. Plus, you have a second job and companies hate to arrange their schedules according to yours, in their point of view, you're the desperate one, you should manage your life.

It was safer to wander in Gotham now, the sun was bright in the sky. It was a clear day, really pretty. A shame you couldn't enjoy it.

You open the always creaking door of the building, feeling the freezing temperature inside. Truly a mystery, though a benediction in the hottest summer. A night out and it's like you already don't know this place anymore. You stand in the middle of the hall, staring at each crack in the walls, each suspicious stains, inhaling the disgusting smell emanating from it all.

Yeah, you hate this place.

Sighing and rubbing your tensed shoulders, you approach your mailbox. Opening it, you're pleasantly surprised when no cards is in sight. Maybe he finally got bored ? Your reaction back at the bar probably wasn't what he expected, not satisfying enough so he gave up. You hope so.

What's inside however is a A4 white sheet folded in two. Thinking a neighbor might have wanted to contact you, you open the paper. Yet, on it, the photo of your identity card in huge format, above it, your whole legal name with just below a price, written 'wanted' for treason. A chill run down your spine.

Okay, that is not funny. What the hell ? Did Tony did that ? If yes, how and why ? You pass your hand on your face, harshly rubbing your eyelids to wake you up. This is a joke, everything's a joke.

An echo brings you back on earth when someone goes down the stairs, upon seeing you, your neighbor halts. You offer him a tight lip smile out of pure politeness, which is a an act he does not even try to imitates as he eyes you as if seeing an animal. Do you look that bad ?

Awkwardly, you shift your weight on your feet to ease the tension growing in you. Why is he still looking at you ? The man, even though you were already well far away from him, distances himself and instead of going straight to the door to leave, bothers to make a detour in order to skirt you completely, without daring to approach a millimeter. Does he think you're going to bite, or what ? You two have talked in the past, briefly sure, but still. Fuck, his behaviour does not comfort you one bit.

When the door shut, you're left standing alone once again.

Things are definitely going in a direction you don't appreciate, you may need to hurry up before something really bad happens. Your hand fetches your phone in your back pocket, calling Sean. When he answers, he does not even bother to greet you.

"You okay? You left really early. You're at work ?

-I got fired, long story. I really need your help, again. I'm truly sorry I myself don't quite understand what's going on and... you stop your ranting, breathless and a lump in throat.

-It's okay, really. I don't mind. Tell me everything, how did you get fired ? Why ?

You called him for several reasons. The first being that he's kind of the only friend you have. The second being that Sean's family know people. They're all criminal at different degrees, whether it is gang leader, small thief or hitman. He's the only one actively trying to live an honest life.

-It's complicated and I'm still pissed about it. you tell him seriously, walking in circles in the hall. I have a question and I really need your answer.

-Not stressing at all. He tries to ease the mood, in vain.

-Am I wanted ?

Sean doesn't answer for twenty seconds too much. His silence is starting to worry you, why isn't he saying anything ? Is he confused ? Does he know ? Please, may he not hide something from you. Wanting to distract yourself, you take the stairs to join your flat. Your fingers were creasing the paper sheet in your hand so hard you could have ripped it.

-In like, he finally starts with a strained voice, a personality kind of way ? Relationship ? He chuckles awkwardly while you frown. Well, no offense but uh, I don't think I am attracted to you, I like you but I wouldn't say I want you, you know ? But you shouldn't be insecure, you're a really great person you know, and I mean, you're not ugly so...

-Sean, what the fuck ? You finally cut him when it hit you that he wasn't answering. You were on the floor just below yours, wanting to walk and not quite go home for the moment.

-I'm sorry, was that mean ? That was definitely mean. He clears his throat. Listen, what I meant was...

-No Sean I'm not insecure, everything's fine. I did not mean... Argh ! You're in this kind of environment, you should know !

-What environment ...?

You want to pull at his hair and shake his head back and forth to punish him for being so stupid. Or maybe you were just not being clear, it was surely that. You were incredibly stressed. Traveling between the different floors or the building to stretch your legs.

-Like, criminals, mafia, I don't know. It's... You sigh, your anger dissipating when you realized you were being a little harsh to him. Weird things keep happening to me and I think I'm going crazy for thinking I may have a price on my head.

-Oh, wanted wanted. No because I thought... He coughs. Never mind. I can definitely tell you that. But honestly, odds are low. No offense but you have nothing to give to anyone. You don't have a lot of money. So I don't think anyone wants you.

Damn.

-Why do you think that anyway ? he asks.

Very briefly, you explain to him why Tony had fired you, still using the stairs and floors as a distraction. Of course, you then told him about the paper you found in your mailbox and the weird encounter with your neighbor.

-I'm just really fucking lost, Sean. I'm sorry, you've been nothing but nice to me and I keep snapping at you, I-I don't know what's going on.

-You're freaked out, it's normal. I don't blame you. I'll help you, send me the wanted poster you got. Maybe it's fake."

Of course, you tell him. You'd do pretty much anything to get out of this situation. You want it to be fake, but there's just an accumulation of bad things that tend to make you believe it's true. Looking around you, you notice to be on the last floor of the building. Flattening the paper sheet back, trying to erase all the creases, you lay it on the dirty floor of the hallways. You tear your phone away from your ear for a simple moment to take the picture. You press send.

You wait impatiently for him to say something, anything. But his reaction is clearly not the one you were waiting for:

-Oh fuck.

-What ? you panic, feeling your heart rises in your throat. What do you mean 'oh fuck' ? Sean ?" But the nauseating ringing of the call being cut short echoes in your ear.

He hung up.

You bite your lip, shutting your eyes as hard as you can. Your fingers find your closed lid, pressing on it as if calming an upcoming headache. What the fuck is going on exactly ? Why did he hang up ? Did you say something ? Did he see something ? You can't keep doing that, nobody answered any of your questions since this morning. You are tired.

You give up. You'll go back home, sleep a little. Research a job in the newspaper and hope for things to get better. Sighing, you walk the stairs once again, only this time to really move on.

Has everyone given up on you ? It feels like it, no one seems akin to want to help you. You never did any wrong to anyone. You always hold the door open to people, you give the few you have to homeless people in the streets. You payed what an old woman lacked in money for her groceries. You work everyday of the damn week, with no holidays.

What have you done ?

Sure, you're starting to break down, you told Tony to kill himself, you yelled at Sean. What the hell ? Never would you have done that in your life. What's happening ? It's getting scary out there, yet, no one's here for you to confide in.

You never should have left your hometown, you punished yourself.

The first thing you do once inside your home is falling head first on the couch. Feeling tears filling up your eyes. You don't fight them, letting them slide freely along your cheeks. After all, it's the good part of having a place to yourself, you get to cry alone in the safety of it.

You'll have to give it up, though. Without necessary money, you'll eventually need to move. Probably find a roommate and live in a red light district.

You spent the next hours trying to read classified ads, key word being 'trying' as your watery eyes didn't allow you to see much. And you ended up watching TV, like you always do. You couldn't fathom the idea of being that alone. When did it all go wrong ? Are you a horrible person ?

The news-woman kept talking and talking without stopping, saying the same things as yesterday and probably tomorrow as well. Inflation, criminality, inflation, criminality. Where were you in all of this ? What about the population ? Where were the solutions ? Is this city really stuck in a loop of chaos ?

The screen now displays a cop in a police station, sharing his feeling and impression about the improvement of the city. You don't listen to him, more struck by what's behind him: a poster on a cork board. Yours. It's your face, with the price, 'treason' shit and everything. The exact same poster you had in your mailbox. The situation is that bad, huh ? Your wanted poster is right next to The Joker one. Is there a link ? Are they hoping to find him after finding you ? They're wrong, then.

You wait, impatiently trying to decipher whether the policeman will talk about you or not. But he does not, so you lay back down on the couch. How does wanted people live freely ? You've been researched for a few hours and you're already going crazy with the feeling everyone's watching you.

Do you even know a criminal in this town ? Well, the only one you do know is Sean. You briefly meet them at the bar, as part of your job. Befriending them is not for you though, so you have no useful information to give the Joker. Then what does he want ?

The doorbell rings through the flat, screaming at you to get up and do something with your life. A chill run through your body, breath stopping for a second out of fear to be heard. For a while, you don't move. Who could it be anyway ? Surely bad news. Now that you're wanted, it could be anyone. But the rings echoes again, forcing you to get up. Slowly and as quietly as possible, you slide to the door. Eye staring through the peephole, you're surprised to discover Sean standing anxiously outside.

How did he get your address ?

Opening the different locks on your door, you however keep the small chain closing it. It wasn't much of a protection to be honest, but you needed to lie to yourself a little bit.

"You hung up on me. Is the only thing you say when your eyes meet.

-I know, I'm really sorry. Are you okay ?

-How did you get my address ? It's weird.

He explains to you how your information are given on your work file. You stand inside, judging him from head to toe. He welcomed you at his place, you have to be polite or you'll really look like an opportunistic. But it's hard when you don't know his exact thoughts.

-Why did you hang up ?

-I talked to my uncle, he has a bar in the center of Gotham. Every criminal goes there, he knows everything.

-And ?

-You're safe, it's false. You're not wanted. He... He didn't see your poster. So it was a bad joke. Silence, you don't believe him. I promise. You're not in danger.

Then why is your face plastered in all Gotham ? Is he completely sure about that information ? You hate to act this way but, it's too late for him to tell you that anyway. False or not, the poster of your head is everywhere. People will try to find you. The veracity of it all doesn't matter anymore.

Though you can't shake that uneasy feeling inside you alerting you of his lie. You saw your face on TV, in a police station. It's not nothing !

-How are you so sure ?

-I told you, you have nothing that could interest such a dangerous man as the Joker.

He's right, on the other hand, something's definitely wrong.

-What do we do, now ?

-You could let me in ? I want to help you but we can't talk if I stay outside.

Halfheartedly, you let him in. He thanks you, admires a few seconds his surroundings before plopping down on the couch. You stay standing even after closing the door shut, crossing your arms on your chest and awaiting his arguments.

Should you tell him you saw your face in a police station ? No, you need to know what he's going to tell you. He's lying, you know it now. But why ?

You thought he could be a friend, turn out you can't trust him that much. Or are you losing it ? Policemen are quite dumb here, they are completely capable of believing everything they see and considering they're desperate to catch the Joker; they could have took your poster as a track.

-What's your plan ? you ask.

-It depends on what you want.

Well, you want a lot of different things. Money, happiness, freedom, family, equality, peace. Right now though, one will be enough.

-I need a job, I can't pay my rent this month otherwise.

-That one's easy. He crosses his arms on his chest, sinking into the sofa cushions. Try ask your bank, they'll lend you some.

-No they won't Sean, I'm indebted. Seriously, did he really think life was this easy ? Did he really think you haven't thought of doing just that ?

He sighs and shrug, crossing his legs, he put his feet on the table. Your eyes are enough to tell him to put them back on the ground. He's a little bit too comfortable for your liking.

-It's these immigrants my friend. We lack money because of them.

What ?

-No, it's just poor distribution of resources. With the ongoing inflation and such, it has literally nothing to do with immigration. You frown, confusion lacing your tone, answering him as if asking a question, because what ? That was so out of pocket ? It's stupid to think like that, it's too easy to accuse others. They're as fucked as we are, you know ? Don't say that.

That's what Gotham thinks ? That each one of their problem is caused by others ? Industries, Government, Politics, they're the one causing all of this. How does someone get to this conclusion ? You thought Sean was good, hell, his family was poor. They survived thanks to drugs and banditry. He's bold to think immigrants are the problem: His family literally embezzles money.

-Jeez, calm down.

Well, it's difficult to be calm towards this kind of stupidity. But at least it keeps you in check, you know who he's voting for. Never trust anyone. It's true you don't know him that well, after all.

-You want my help or not ?

It's harder to see him in the same light as before after this, but if he's the only one willing to help, you can't waste this chance.

-Yeah. You sigh, ashamed with yourself. I need people to forget about me.

-Good, meet me at the back of the bar at the end of our shift. He's not waiting for an answer as he gets up to leave.

-Wow. No ?

He stops in his tracks as you block his way.

-What do you mean, 'no' ?

Is he serious ? With everything you risk ? Criminals at the bar know you, hell, some of them see you every night. No, you are not joining him in the dark in a creepy alley late at night when people want you dead. Also, you need to think a little before jumping straight back to work, it's dangerous.

-Because I don't want to die ?" You need to tell him. "Okay, Sean, I may not understand everything but I know you're lying to me. Am I wanted or not ?

He already lost every ounce of respect you had for him. First with the lying, then with the whole immigrants things.

-You don't believe me ? Is he trying to make you feel guilty ?

-I saw my fucking head on the TV. I believe that's enough proof for me. You cut the conversation straight, not wanting him to keep lengthening things uselessly.

Sean doesn't answer, seemingly hesitating. What is he thinking ? He has to respond. He's constantly trying to avoid the subject and it's getting frustrating.

-That means I'm in danger, right ?

-Yes." he finally answers. Thank God, you think, God why, you also think. "But not because of the Joker. He's not responsible for what's happening to you. All the cards and riddles are from him, yes, but someone saw you two talking at the bar and thought they could get to him by killing you.

You entirely stopped trusting him after he mentioned the cards and the riddles. Because never, in all your discussions, have you mentioned receiving these. He knows too much.

You don't bring it up, of course.

-Explain.

Who could have told him about the riddles, if not you ? The one sending them ? Yes, but Sean's terrified of him. Plus, he couldn't talk to him, even if he had the courage to. It's the Joker, from what you understand, you don't approach him easily. He's not the small local criminal. He's something more.

-The Joker's well known. Everyone wants to defy him. And someone saw you.

-Who ? you ask, finally getting some well deserved qualitative answers.

-His name was, uh, Korej I believe.

-Ko...Rej... you repeat, unimpressed, frowning.

Is it you or does it sound vaguely similar to Joker, but with the letters all mixed up ?

-It's his pseudonym." He hastily answers. "But his real name is John, he lives in the richest part of Gotham. He's a mob leader. He fucking despises the Joker, that's why his name is Kojer.

-Korej, you corrected.

-Yeah, it's difficult to remember. It's quite the shitty name.

He really think you're dumb, right ? You clasp your hands together, catching his drifting attention.

-Okay, well, thank you for everything Sean. It was a pleasure, truly. But now I'm gonna ask you to leave.

-You don't believe me ?

No, no you don't. Everything he ever said to you since he first came here was either weird or false. And sometimes weirdly false.

-Please, leave my house.

You'll go to the nearest police station, ask for help. And if nobody helps you, you'll find a way out of here. This city is dead anyway, there's nothing for you anymore. It's too late.

-Don't you want to talk about it ? he asks hurriedly, displaying his open hands in the air as if ready to grab your shoulders.

-If you want us to talk, okay, you yield. But choose somewhere safe, with a lot of people. I am not joining you at the back of the bar at night where everyone could kill me.

You're going crazy. Why are you even accepting this ? It's not a dream, nor a joke, you really are wanted. People want to kill you. There is money on your head. Sean is deep in thoughts before getting the enlightenment he needed, suddenly vigorously saying:

-Shopping center.

-What ?

-Let's meet at the shopping center, in two hours. I have things to prepare, people to call. You have my number, I'll call you. Is it good for you ?

His behaviour is screaming danger, on the other hand, a rendez-vous in a crowded shopping center at 3PM is not as risky as the bar. And if things turn bad, you still have a chance to run away, hidden in the mass. You hope the things he'll prepare will help you, and not worsen everything.

"Okay. You yield, once again.

-Thank you so much, he exclaimed." Why is he thanking you ? "You're a real sweetheart. It will be worth it."

And with these last words, he left.

You won't go. Of course you won't go damn, you don't want to die. He's so suspicious ! Why so much relief ? He's the one supposed to help you, you're not doing anything for him. You absolutely changed your mind. Yesterday, he was that nice man who saved your life, welcoming you home warmly. Today, he's, well, you don't know who he is anymore. You want to understand, discover what's wrong, but at the same time, it's not yours to do.

Fuck, you need to empty your mind. It's tiring, to be suspicious of everyone, to always have to thoroughly think about everything you do. You plop down on your couch, grabbing the remote and turning the TV on. There's a cartoon going on. Tom and Jerry, a cat chasing, or at least trying to, a mouse. But the mouse's well smarter than the cat. 

Each time he thinks he'll catch it, the mouse finds a way to turn the situation to his advantage. Because in fact, the cat will never win. He has the illusion of strength because of his height, when the mouse is vicious, malign. 

Also, if the cat caught the mouse, well, the show wouldn't have any interest anymore. 

On the screen, the mouse finds a way to slam the door in the cat face, who's dizzy. To illustrate it, stars and birds are rotating around his head.

You don't know why the mouse does all this, maybe to survive. The small animal found the comfort of a warm house with good cheese and doesn't want to leave. The cat, however, is forced to chase it all day. As his owners force him to. It's his role, as the house guard, to chase rodents. Otherwise, he'll be replaced. 

You have to be really damn fucked for you to start analyzing a stupid cartoon. 

Jeez, it's a cat chasing a mouse, it's silly, it's fun to watch. You don't think, just turn off your brain and have fun. Why can't you do just that ?

Sighing, you change channel, trying to find something worth watching. You end up watching the news, it keeping you grounded. It helps you think you're not the worst case, that there's always worse somewhere. It's deeply selfish, but hey, you can't do much about it. Your life is pretty much ruined at the moment. 

What's today's problem? Well this time, the subject is centered around climate change and its catastrophes.

"Global warming. Today, in Spain, alarming news. The national temperature has increased considerably by 46°F (5°C) since last year. The Spanish are revolted, the world is encountering a record in warmth. Their main claim, she reads her notes, "It's summer's weather when we're in autumn." She briefly gulps her saliva. "Indeed, the local heat reached 86°F (30°C) while 73°F (23°C) at night. IPCC's report is alarming, something has to change. Is the world government going to act ?" She quits her serious tone and changes the subject. "Local news; what's happening in Gotham today ?"

Ah, here you go. You turn up the volume. 

"Earlier in the main avenue today, several store signs were vandalized by a group of masked men, it is thought to be perpetrated by an illegal organization. It's a real raid that happened, terrorizing the passers-by and owners. The identity of the delinquent stays unfounded. We know that the police department is currently working on..."

You mute the TV. Vandalizing stores, now ? They didn't even steal anything, who does that ? On the screen, a replay of surveillance cameras showing masked men running, pushing people and only stopping to draw weird shapes on a few of the stores. It's bad, but not quite as bad as your case. Putting the sound back, you're perfectly timed with the conclusion of the event. 

"Where is Batman ? Has the vigilante abandoned our city ? We hope for his prompt return in time for him to apprehend the Joker." 

Batman, right. You forgot that man was even existing. While some wonder who is hiding behind the mask, you're left questioning yourself on which side is he. If he's with the cops, is he a good or bad man ? Police is part of the problem, certainly. But Batman sometimes helps people, although you never encountered him yourself. But is he really with the police ? 

Who is he working with ? And why is he what he is ?

"Whatever... You rub your eyes."

Why do you even keep thinking about that, it's not your problem anymore. You're leaving. Gotham has nothing left for you. Batman can do whatever he wants, for all you care. He doesn't know about your insignificant existence, why waste it thinking of him ? 

But are you really leaving this place, though ? 

Are you really about to leave your life and flee like a coward ? Yes, is the obvious answer. You could think about it, is the less obvious answer. 

Yes, your life is at stake. On the other hand, Sean could really be useful as you're still in danger as long as you stay in Gotham, he's a considerable ally in this story. And not only Sean but his family as well could help you. 

You know about his aunt. That woman is quite well known. A powerful gang chief. You could pay her to get escorted outside of Gotham. You're already indebted anyway, you have nothing to lose anymore. Moreover, nothing guarantees your safety once outside of Gotham. If the Joker is as feared as shown in the media, changing city won't be enough. Which is why you need to clear the problem directly from the root. 

Okay, you won't lose anything in going, right ? Maybe your life, but it's worth a try. You'll join Sean. Yes, you'll join him. 

When the time arrived, you couldn't shake that uneasy feeling taunting you all while preparing yourself. What if someone chases after you ? What if you get kidnapped ? You won't, of course you won't. Sean will be there when you arrive. He's dissuading enough. He's a big man. 

You found yourself before the gigantic mall before even being able to process it. It was crowded, people entering and getting out every second. For a moment, your eyes search for Sean in the rabble only to find no one. He's probably inside, it's safer. 

Tightly holding the hood stuck on your head, you stare intensely at whoever crosses your path, trying to gain enough courage to finally enter the building. 

It's scary to be wanted, the displeasing impression everyone's looking at you is suffocating. You could get killed, right now. Abducted, even. 

When the automated doors open, you're greeted by the cold air conditioning. It's autumn, why the hell would someone want to freeze to death ? 

Checking your phone, there's still no sign of Sean. He couldn't possibly stand you up, right ? He's the one who insisted for you to come. It wouldn't be logical. He's just late.

You can't really afford to be waiting in your situation, every second matters. You don't know what will happen. And, yeah, you're kind of starting to freak out. You don’t know where your wanted poster ended up. Maybe you’re already dead, and, shit, you're alone in such a vulnerable position. Fuck, why did you come ?

You’re trying to stay rational, thinking of every possibility as to why he’s not here. You nod your head to yourself, trying to ease your nerves. He'll come. You just need a little patience. He said he needed to prepare things beforehand, that's why he's late. He's late because he'll help you. 

You miss the mall, it's been long since you last came here, too preoccupied with your two jobs. You used to like watching people but quickly stopped. First, you once or twice made an awkwardly long eye contact with a man who then wanted to beat you up for provoking him, "like a pussy". Then, the second reason is that people are just... Mean. You'd look at a pretty woman only for her to spit on the ground. In the street is already disgusting enough, but the mall ! You'll look at a man hugging a woman, just to realize that they both don't know each other and that he's drunk out of his mind. 

Maybe you do need to get out of here, actually. 

Your phone still hasn't buzzed, you need to do something with your body or you’ll go crazy. It’s obvious staring daggers at your device every second won’t help. He's not here yet, you need to accept it and wait. You'll walk a little to not get noticed, your tensed and motionless body language is screaming suspicious and people are starting to side eye you. 

It’s only natural of your legs to start bringing you to the places you used to go to, only to realize that one of your favorite stores closed permanently. Of course, with the crisis. It’s not surprising. 

"Fucking morons..." Mutters a man to your left. Upon looking in his direction, you meet the owner of the voice standing on a stepladder, trying to energetically scrub with a sponge his store's sign. Key word being 'trying' as it's not successful. 

Right, earlier's vandals. 

He's cursing to himself, scrubbing progressively more aggressively the almost intact big black 'O' tagged on the sign mocking him. 

"Can I know who did that? asked your curiosity. 

-Fucking assholes, he answers without even looking your way, that's who did that. 

-What do they looked like ?

-No idea, he grumbles. They all had that stupid mask on. All white with some blue and red. No idea what that was supposed to be. Ask the other owners if you're so interested, but you're late. Journalists already left. 

Oh, right. He thinks you’re a journalist. 

-Thank you, have a nice day sir.

-Yeah yeah…”

You heard several stores were vandalized, where are the others ? Letting your legs wander, you get your answer a few meters/feet away. A sign is hanging by an electric thread. 

It’s a shoe store, but its signboard was now displaying a big black 'O'. You lift a brow, confused about its meaning. Usually, tag either insults or convey a message. Anyhow, there's a sense. Now though, you can't quite pinpoint it. O, what starts with an O. Optimism, oppression, obedient omelette ? It can be anything. Maybe it's not a letter, but a signature? 

Two stores away (you see it out of the corner of your eye) another of these is vandalized, this time, a bold 'B' was written. What word could this correspond to? B for Batman ? It's not a word, mostly a name. Baby, maybe. Bomb, bag, anything. Hell, it could even be badminton for all you know. 

Next letter is directly after the previous one, a 'S' hiding the dress logo the sign was exhibiting prior. The paint is dripping a little and one or two drops can be seen on the ground. 

"Those damn scum." a man grumbles, who you think might be the owner of the poor store. He crosses his arms on his chest, looking up disapprovingly. 

You ignore him, now thrilled by all of this. You want to discover all the tags. It's not like you have much better to do anyway. Sean still hasn't answered you. You know what to do to wait: find words for each letter. S makes you think of sabotage, skull and soup. 

You see the next letter from afar, this time, an "E" welcomes you. Though, this one was partially erased. You guess the owner found the right product. It's now possible to read the sign and enjoy the sweet sight of what seems to be a sex shop sign. Is it even legal ? There's kids coming into this mall. Anyway, a lot of words start with E; Electric, Ebola, education, eagle. 

You don't find the next letter right away, needing to walk a little to find it. But when you do, you're weirdly excited. It's just a bunch of words on some signboards, yet, it's fun. Like an orienteering race. But mostly because you don't get to have much fun today, and this being out of your quotidian, it's easy to be ecstatic.  

Further away, it's not one but two letters that greets you; two "S", entwined like snakes. Shit, is it a nazi kind of tag ? It looks like the police's symbol there was back then. If that’s the case, you don’t find this as exciting as before. Not a good thing to write. There's already so much chaos here, you pray nazis are not going to be added to it. You think of the word 'Swiss' for this letter.

Next letter is an 'I'. Investigation, investment, ice. A woman bypasses you, hitting your shoulder with her. You squeal out of surprise, the woman doesn't even notice you. What a shitty town. You check your phone again, making sure Sean didn't try to contact you. No reply. 

Walking ahead, the next vandalized store needs you to turn to the left to be seen, it's an 'O', again. But you don’t have the time to think of words that you already see the next letter. It’s a ‘N’. Night, Nemo (as in the movie) and nuisance. You already found words starting with ‘O’ anyway. It seems to be the last one as you walk and turn but no others appear. Disappointment lingers, sad it ended so soon. 

What is it, does it form a word at the end ? Like street art ? Maybe, a shame you already forgot all the previous letters. It was fun, though. You'd do it again, it's entertaining. Like a track game where you follow a path. Vibrations are bringing you back to reality, rushing to take it, you rotate to leave the place in order to find somewhere calmer. In your haste, you bump straight into someone. You freeze for a second, phone in hand.

They’re wearing a mask, a clown mask on their black hair. And a really ugly one. It’s shiny, like plastic and it surely is. Their eyes are the only thing you see through the holes. Whoever that is is staring right into your damn soul. Their eyes are empty, so empty you might think they’re on some kind of drug. The big red nose in the middle of their face is mocking you, laughing at you to be scared of something so ridiculous. Two small tufts of green hair are standing on each side of his head, the false bloody teeth drawn on the mask is the final touch that tells you to leave.

“Sorry.” you mumble, avoiding eye contact.

Your hands are holding your phone so tightly that fear strikes you that you could actually break the screen. The clown does not move when you walk past him, and you realize right then and there that they were well too close to you for it to be normal. You hate clowns, you hate them so much. All of this because of that stupid Joker. That person probably wasn’t even related to him, maybe he was one of the vandals. You don’t know, you don’t want to.

When you pick up Sean’s call, he apologizes for being late and plans an area for you to meet. You’re before the sex shope tagged by the “E” by the time Sean joins you. You’re not as convinced as before to destroy the problem from its root after the clown encounter. You’re not a hero, not a criminal. You’re nothing, you don’t have anything to prove to anybody. You should leave.

“You okay ? You look like you saw a ghost ? He laughs, but he’s not your friend so you don’t.

-So ? Got out much more coldly than you intended it to be.

-Jeez, you’re impatient. I’ll help you, I told you I would, right ?

You did, doesn’t mean you really will. You cross your arms on your chest, approaching him for him to hear you more clearly.

-Do you have any information ? Ways to get me out of here ? To resolve this ? Anything ?

He sighs, stepping back as if you’re the plague and looking elsewhere in the crowd. He seems conflicted, forehead creased by his worry.

-I can’t tell you now, walls have ears.

-Then why the fuck would you tell me to join you here ? If you’re so scared to be spied on, we could have continued this discussion at my place.

Your tension is building up. It’s fucking frustrating to talk with him. He starts teasing you with interesting information, then, he retreats and acts as if nothing happened and you’re just impatient. He told you to come here, he told you he’d help you.

-At least answer my questions, you plead, I don’t even know who… Who is the Joker ? Who is he exactly ? He physically tensed, his shoulders literally hunched forwards. What the hell ?

-Well, uh, it's complicated.

Damn, even that couldn’t be answered. Why are you still here ?

-What do you mean it's complicated ? Is he a terrorist ? A thief ? A gang leader ? A serial killer ? It's a simple question.

-He's a little bit of everything, truly.

Why does he always seem so nervous talking about him ?

-Sean for the love of God, he’s not here ! people are starting to look in your direction, but you couldn’t care less. You can calm down, he won’t kill you ! You gotta breathe a little, man. Aren’t you the one who literally told me he wasn’t after me ? It’s not the first time you’re lying to me and I’m starting to lose it. Why am I here ? Tell me, why are we fucking here if you’re not gonna help me ! Who is this man and what does he want ? Why does he want to kill me ! It’s…” a gunshot whistles in the air, cutting you in your sentence straight away, screams erupting from all sides.

Your body acts before you can think, throwing yourself on the ground. It’s hard to understand what’s going on, but in a way, you don’t try to. You get up quickly and lose yourself in the running and yelling crowd. Your paranoia is not helping, was this gunshot aimed at you ? Sean is somewhere in the mall, but it’s too late. You gave him a chance, he wasted it.

Another gunshot echoes, followed closely by the sound of a glass breaking. Your senses are overwhelmed; names, insults, orders are being yelled. Is the Joker here ? You need to get out of here, now. Bodies are pushed against yours, your clothes are being tugged on. But when you were about to reach the exit, someone harshly grabs you out of the crowd, pulling you aside. It’s panic in your head, survival instinct kicking in. You yank your arm out of the person’s hold but freeze upon seeing Sean threaten you with a gun.

“Sean, you start with a shaky voice, what the fuck ? his eyes are cold, you don’t recognize him. He looks at you as if you're nothing, as if you're no one.

-He’s here, he states, looking paranoidly to the sides. He’s… He’s going to kill me if I don’t bring you to him.

-Bring me to who, Sean ? But you fear you might already know.

-The Joker.

Of course he’d betray you. Who are you kidding ? You knew, you knew he would trap you. Your eyes can’t leave the sight of the gun barrel, following each of its movements. He’s shaking, you realize. Is he scared, hesitating ? Or motivated by a hatred so pure he can’t even control his own feelings ?

-Sean, you try nonetheless, he’ll kill you either way okay ? He’s a sadist, we can… you gulp, throat suddenly burning dry. We can leave together, we’ll leave the city and…

-You don’t understand, do you ? He’ll track you, he’ll track us down. And then, he’ll slaughter us like pigs. You hear me ? He’ll slaught…

-I get it ! I get it ! you scream, shutting your eyes in order to erase those images from your head.

How can you even change his mind ? You doubt he’d fold with some speech about your friendship. It’s not like you two were that close to be honest. Sure, you liked him but that changed since the beginning of the Joker catastrophe.

-He promised me money, he explained himself. As if you’d forgive him after hearing his justification. A lot of money. You can’t understand what it’s like to… when you see him lower his weapon, you interrupt him, drived by your anger.

-How can you be so stupid ? He was, he truly was an idiot for believing the Joker. You haven’t known that beast for long, but each time someone defined him, it was always along the lines of wicked, treacherous, vicious and ruthless. So yeah, he was stupid. Was your life worth something as insignificant as money ? Has he ever liked you ?

-Shut up ! I’m done living like a fucking tramp !

Tramp is a big word coming from him, daddy pays him everything ! You’re tired of his tantrums, he is a grown man, ten or fifteen years older than you and he’s acting like a child. Suffering is your quotidian as well, but you would’ve never betrayed him. In fact, that is your problem. You’re not a scumbag like him, that’s why you can’t stand him. You have no value similar to his, if he even has some. By what right does he think he can use you to get, what, a few dirty money ?

If you're going to die, at least you'll die telling him every resentment you had towards him.

-You think I am happy ?! Your life’s better than mine ! Fuck you Sean, you’re an asshole ! You’re a fucking asshole ! You’re the one that should die !

-Shut the fuck up you whore !

A burning pain sliced through you along a sharp sound, legs losing all strength and making you fall on the ground. Your ears are ringing and your breath is cut for a few long seconds. What happened ? Is the first question popping in your head, but the atrocious pain coursing through your leg answers you. Your hand touches your hurting limb, but retreats it instantly at the pain. So you look down.

Blood, there’s blood everywhere.

It’s yours. It’s… It’s your damn blood, you’re bleeding. You have a hole in your leg and it’s gushing out blood. He shot you. Fuck, oh God, oh God, you’re bleeding. You’re fucking bleeding and it hurt like hell. It hurt so damn bad, why, why did he do that ? Your eyes are stinging and soon, tears fall down your cheeks. Are you going to die ? Here ? With nothing accomplished ? Alone ? Shot by the only man you thought was your friend ?

-I believe alive was written on the contract.

You recognize that voice, you hear it in your nightmares.

-Joker ! I… She tried to run away, I had to immobilize her !

It’s weird, your body is exhausted, yet, the pain is keeping you well awake. Your head is heavy when you lay it on the dirty ground of the mall. Eyes trailing slowly to the two men talking. Finally, he’s here before you. He’s shown himself. Even if it’s only the second time you see him, you talked and heard about him so much these past hours it feels like you’ve been with him for months. And maybe you were, in a way. Sean walks past you, not glancing towards your drained body on the ground. He’s scared of him. He plays the big man with you, but he’s a little bitch.

How is Sean, a man built like a fridge, so terrified of someone so ridiculous as the Joker ?

Who is he ?

The pain in your leg makes it feel numb and at the same as alive as it never been. The Joker sighs exaggeratedly, he tilts his head to the side to look at you. Shivers shake your whole body. Is that it ? This is the man who’ll abduct you ? You’d rather get killed instantly.

-And right on Valentine’s day...” mumbles the Joker.

It’s not, it’s autumn. Valentine’s day is in February, in winter. From your position, police sirens are heard and red and blue lights are flashing, reflecting on the windows. The Joker takes out a gun out of his long purple jacket and aims it towards Sean.

“Please ! He yells. I-I did what you wanted ! She’s here, please don’t kill me ! I’m a hitman, I’ll work for you !

Is he, now ? He's barely a barman.

-Do I look like I'm searching for employees ? He asks, opening his arms and bending his hands for his palms to face the ceiling before looking around him for confirmation. Because I’m not.”

You're torn between relief and horror at the sight of Sean falling to the ground after another gunshot, bathing in his own blood. He did betray you, he brought you here, he brought this upon you, upon himself. But he’s dead. You wished him to, but now that he is you’re horrified.

It’s then that you realize that The Joker is surrounded by his masked goons. Probably the one who vandalized the store, now that you think about it. You walked right into his trap.

“Well ? What are you waiting for ? he asks almost comically. Bring the package to the car !

When several men surrounds you, you're left yelling and fighting to get out of their holds, in vain, of course. The blood gushing out of your hurting limb isn't helping much, anyway. You feel your strength slowly evaporate from you.

Shotguns echoes, but your ringing ears prevent you to precisely locate it. Soon, they throw you in the back of a car and close the door, leaving you in the dark.

Gotham killed you.  

[trashyswitch]

An Unpredictable Escape Plan

The Security Guard has learned too much about Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria, and he senses his death looming. So, he tries to escape by means of crawling through a vent. But nothing appears to be going to plan...

This fanfic was somewhat suggested by @gamequeenanya! I sent you the fanfic beforehand, and you gave me some wonderful praise, which I humbly appreciate. This fanfic is about the security guard in the intro of the Five Nights at Freddy's Movie. So...I hope everyone else enjoys the fanfic too! The tickles get a little intense by the end, so just a forewarning.

The security guard could feel his heart bursting out of his chest. He had learned far too much about the history of this place while on the job…He was going to die if he stayed here for even another minute…Luckily, he had managed to find a vent that had led him out to another area of the pizzeria. Using this, he was able to avoid the terrifying animatronics while escaping from the horrible place. He didn’t care about his paycheck anymore. If he was going to live another day, he would have to crawl through the cobwebs in the vents to get there. 

The security guard crawled out of the vent and ran through the hall. His mind was spiraling as he tried to find an exit. Where is the exit? There’s gotta be an exit around here somewhere. This place wouldn’t be built without at least two exits. There was one entrance that could also work as an exit. But the entrance was in the middle of the pizzeria where the animatronics were! And there was no way he could escape without them getting him! 

He looked forward and gasped with surprise and relief. A door?! IS THIS AN EXIT?! YES! He can finally get out of here! He was so close to smelling the cool air of the night outside! He didn’t care how freezing it was gonna be outside. Cause anything was better than being locked up and left for dead in that stupid pizzeria! SCREW YOU, ANIMATRONICS!

He reached the door and pushed the door down, expecting it to open. But when it didn’t, he tried it again. It didn’t open. No! Is it jammed?! He pushed hard on the door, hoping something would loosen. But it wasn’t working! Why isn’t it working?! 

He froze in horror when he heard the humming of someone behind him. Oh no…

He slowly turned himself around, and gasped as his eyes fell on one of the animatronics! Though the shadows hid most of the animatronic’s body, he knew EXACTLY who it was. 

It was Foxy! AND HE HAD CORNERED HIM! NO! 

The security guard pushed on the door a few more times as he heard Foxy’s rapid footsteps coming closer. Shit, shit, shiT, SHIT, SHIT! COME ON, YOU STUPID DOOR! WHY WON’T IT OPEN?! 

He turned around and leaned against the locked door, and widened his eyes as Foxy jumpscared the security guard by SCREAMING at him and making the lights flicker around him! 

The security guard let out a SCREAM of his own. His body was completely frozen in place, riddled with anxiety and impending doom. He was done for…this is it! He was going to die in this old, rugged place, and no one was ever going to find his body! 

Foxy picked up the security guard with its hand and its hook, and carried the security guard out of the hallway. The security guard kicked and shouted, reaching for anything to grab so he could stop Foxy from carrying him away. Anything to not be killed by the evil robots! 

“HELLO?! HELLOOO?! IS ANYONE OUT THERE?! HELP ME!” He shouted in a pleading voice. 

Foxy carried the security guard farther and farther down the hall and turned towards the main part of the Pizzeria. Freddy, Chica and Bonnie all turned around, and observed the Foxy animatronic carrying the security guard towards them in its arms. 

“Wait…WAIT NO! PLEASE, LET ME GO!” The security guard yelled, visibly terrified. Foxy picked up the security guard and turned him around, so he was forced to face the animatronics. “Ohgod…” He muttered. 

The animatronics looked at each other, almost like they were conversing. The security guard was left in the dark as the animatronics nodded their heads and ‘talked’ to each other. Then, the security guard widened his eyes as he felt a pair of eyes staring him down from above him. Was…Was Foxy staring at him?! He slowly turned to look at Foxy, before whimpering in fear. He was right…Foxy was staring him down. 

And then he felt the hook and the hand adjusting themselves on his hips! He started tugging and contorting his hips every which way so that he could potentially get out in the middle of Foxy’s adjustment. But even when Foxy was adjusting, the security guard was just too weak to properly fight against this robot. The strength levels were undoubtedly unmatched, and the security guard knew that no matter how hard he tried, he would never be able to get out of Foxy’s grip…well, at least until Foxy chose to let him go. 

“P-Please let go! GaAH!” He jumped and covered his mouth. Dammit…that’s embarrassing… “S-Sorry…” He mumbled. 

Freddy looked up at Foxy with a tame look on its face. Then, Freddy, Bonnie and Chica looked at each other again. What were they planning now!? 

Foxy adjusted its hand again, poking its hook into his hip a little deeper. Not expecting it, the security guard jumped and yelped again. “aAah-? Sohorry...” He reacted, biting his lip. He sensed that Foxy’s touches were not supposed to tickle…and yet here he was, unable to stop his reactions. 

Freddy and Bonnie walked closer to the security guard. “OhnoNONO-” The security guard tensed up as the animatronics quickly puppy guarded him. “aAAAAH!” He jumped and wiggled around in surprise. “WAHAHAIT, WHAHAHAT?!” He reacted, looking down as the blue and brown fingers tweaked his sides and ribs. “HAhahahaha! Whahat ahare you do-DOHOHOIHIHING?!” He asked aloud. 

Foxy’s hand and hook poked and prodded in the dips of his hips, making the security guard jolt and shake his head with laughter. The thing is, he expected them to kill him with either a hit to the head, or a stab to the back. He really did! These animatronics were perfectly capable of it, and more! 

But TICKLE HIM!? He NEVER would’ve guessed that in a million years! 

“Whahahat ihihis thihihis?!” He asked. 

What had gotten into these animatronics?! Yes, he’d rather be tickled than killed any day! But…still, what made them change their mind? And…why could he hear children giggling nearby?!

“Helloooo?! Hehehelloohohohoo?!” He called, trying to look around for any children. 

But he couldn’t see anything over these huge animatronics! 

Bonnie’s fat fingers began to slowly rise up his ribcage while a little girl’s giggles began to fill the room. “He’s funny!” The little girl reacted. 

“HELLOHOHOHOOO?!” The security guard called. “AHAHANYOHOHONE?!” He asked. 

“Tickle his armpits!” the little girl's voice had said. 

The security guard widened his eyes in horror. Excuse me, WHAT?! Who is that?! And HOW DID SHE KNOW?! 

He stared up at Bonnie with widened eyes, and attempted to push the blue animatronic away. “B-Bonnie, I’m warning you. If my armpits are even touched, I…I may die.” The security guard warned. 

Bonnie looked over at Freddy and tilted its head. Foxy looked down at the security guard, and looked up at Bonnie and Freddy. But then, Chica walked up and moved Bonnie and Freddy away! What was Chica gonna do to him?! Should he be scared? Or will things be okay? He didn’t know for sure. 

Chica leaned over, and looked deeply into the security guard’s eyes for a moment. The security guard was thrown off by this. Why was the animatronic staring at him?! But then…Chica’s right, big hand went up and grabbed his right wrist. “W-What-” He tugged and pulled on his wrist. “What are you planning?” He asked, hoping and praying for some sort of reply. 

The little girl’s laughs returned for a few moments, before his armpit was poked. “OhNOWAIT- GaHAA!” He jumped and squeezed his eyes shut, unable to stop his reactions. 

His armpit was poked again, by presumably the same animatronic. 

“HOLDOHON-” He reacted. “WhatdidIjuhuhustsahahay?!” He asked, laughing nervously. 

…And then the finger slid down his armpit. “OhoGOHOHOD-!” He squealed and threw his head back with a laugh. 

…And a slide up…

“NoNONONO-!” He wheezed and bursted out in fits of cackles. 

…aaand a slide down. 

“Plehehehease DOHOHOHON’T!” He wiggled and laughed hysterically. 

The little boy’s laughter returned for a few moments. “He’s funny!” The boy admitted. 

He opened his eyes and looked around through his laughter, still desperate to find out who that was. 

“It’s a shame we have to kill him.” Another child’s voice had said. 

The man widened his eyes in horror. OHGOD…The animatronics are still gonna kill him?! 

“Hmmm…” Chica stopped tickling the security guard and tilted its head before turning to the other animatronics. “Maybe not…” the girl’s voice said. 

The animatronics looked at Chica with surprise. The security guard closed his eyes and began to mentally pray to himself. Pleeeease let the animatronics change their minds…

Chica, Bonnie and Freddy walked back to give the security guard some space. He was still breathing somewhat heavily, still physically tired from the tickles he received. The security guard’s attention moved to the Freddy animatronic as it powered down. And…out revealed a child! Is…is this the kid that he’s been hearing?! The security guard widened his eyes and stared at the boy. 

“H-Hi.” The security guard said somewhat awkwardly. “Hi there.”  

The kid smiled a bit. “Hi.” The kid replied. 

The security guard looked at the kid in the white shirt, and the white top hat. He looked adorable, to be honest. Innocent and sweet, especially when he’s smiling. He was already softening his expression just by looking at him. 

Then, the boy looked over to the right and revealed another boy. But this time…he had a brown striped shirt on. The security guard appreciated being introduced to the children, but…he still had no idea if he was going to get out of here alive, or if they were going to witness his death. 

The kid in the brown shirt began to narrow his eyes at him curiously. He walked closer to the security guard and looked them up and down, almost examining him in a way. The security guard looked at the kid in the white shirt, confused as to what the kid in the brown shirt was currently doing. 

But then, the brown-shirt kid stopped his body inches from the security guard and smirked at him with some sort of twinkle in his eyes. The security guard recognized this look to be mischief. A child’s mischief at its finest. The security guard started to grow slightly nervous. Why is he so close to him? What was that grin for? What was the kid planning on doing to him!? Why was the kid planning anything?! 

He looked down at his armpits, and then looked back up at the security guard. He reached his hand out, and poked his finger in the dip of the guard’s armpit. Naturally, the guard jolted and tensed up. “aAh-?!” He jumped. 

The kid smirked a little wider as he dragged his finger down the armpit to his upper ribs. 

The security guard could feel every part of his body jolting and struggling to get away, while slightly desperate giggles trickled out of his lungs. “Ahahahaha, c-cohohome ohohohon.” He reacted. 

The kid giggled, revealing this to be the same child who was giggling while the animatronics were tickling him earlier. “They like you.” The kid admitted, looking at the other kids. 

The security guard snickered and shook his head, struggling to handle the agonizingly light tickles. “Hehehehe- Thehehey dohohohoho?” He asked. 

The kid nodded his head. “They like your laugh.” He told him, moving his fingers to his middle ribs. “They like your smile.” He added, scratching his 3rd and 4th rib. “They want you to live.” The kid explained. 

The security guard felt like he was being toyed with. The tickles were driving him a little insane…but at the same time, he was thankful he was still being kept alive. 

“Cahahahan Ihihihi?” He asked, looking down as the kid scratched his fingers on his lowest rib. 

“Live?” The kid finished. “I don’t know.” He looked over at a room in the corner of the main area. “The bunny wouldn’t be happy with us if we let you go…” The boy admitted, slowing his fingers a little bit. 

The security guard was still giggly, though it was a little more bearable for him. He began to pray even harder that the boys let him go. All he wanted was to be in the comfort of his home, with a cup of soup in his hand, staring at some sort of documentary on the Television. 

The boy with the white walked up to the brown-shirt boy, and pushed him aside. “My turn.” He said, before skittering both his hands all over his armpits. “Kitchy kitchy koo!” The kid in the top hat declared. 

The security guard threw his head back and let out a long fit of cackly laughter. “OHOHO NOHOHOHO! GAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHA- AAAHAHAHAHA- P-PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!” He shouted desperately. It sounded like he was absolutely dying at the hands of this child!

“You’re tickling him too rough.” The girl told the boy in the top hat. “You need to be gentle.” She moved his hands out of the way and tickled on his belly. 

“Hehehehe! Hehehehehe- Ohohokahahay, ahaha lihihittle behehehetteheherr, buhuhuhuhut-” He said, letting out more giggles rather than hysterics. 

The little girl smiled. “Like that.” She told him, stopping her fingers to let the top hat boy try. 

“But that’s no fun. I’ve heard lots of giggles from him.” The boy complained, before dancing one hand on his armpit. 

“Ohoho bohohoy- GaaAAHAHA!” He jumped, widened his eyes as his grin widened as well. 

“I want him to laugh really hard…” The boy tickled the other armpit with his other hand. “...Like he was told the funniest joke in his life.” He admitted. 

The moment his other armpit was touched and tickled, it was all over for him. He was a complete mess of cackles and laughter. “NAHAHAHAHAHA! AAHAHAHEHEHEHEE!” He laughed. “EEEEHEHEHEHEHEHE- EEEEEK! EEEHEHEEE! IHEEHEEHEE- IHI CAHAHAHAHAHAN’T!” He cackled. There was no way he could laugh harder than this. If this is what the kid wanted, he was certainly gonna get it. 

“But he’s gonna pass out.” The girl warned. 

“Isn’t that what the bunny wants?” The top hat boy asked. 

“Well…” The boy in the brown shirt crossed his arms, just letting the other boy take over. “It would take a long time for him to pass out from laughter.” He reminded the boy. 

“But…maybe we don’t have to make him pass out.” The boy in the top hat suggested. Whoever this top hat boy was, he was determined to not kill the guard. 

“PLEHEHEHEASE IHIHIHIHI’M TOOHOOHOOHOO TIHIHICKLIHIHIHISH!” He begged. 

“What do you suggest we do?” The boy in the brown shirt asked. 

“I have a plan.” The top hat boy told them. “But we’ll only do it if the guard is on board.” He told him. “Will you let us save you? Nod your head yes, or shake your head no.” He told the guard. 

He could not have nodded his head any faster. He was BEGGING to get out of here at this point…and he didn’t care how much tickling he had to endure! If it means getting out, then he’ll do it. 

“Okay.” The top hat boy smiled as he dipped his fingers deeper into his armpits. “I will tickle you. I will tickle you really hard, that you get really tired. When your laugh stops, I’ll stop tickling. But when you stop, I want you to pretend you passed out.” The boy explained. 

Gosh, forget pretending…He’d probably pass out right now if he could. 

“Then we’ll carry you to the back…and let you go free there.” He told the guard. 

The guard tried to let out a sigh of relief. But it more came out as a wheeze, than anything else. “F-Fihihihihine.” He said. 

“Okay.” The top hat kid said. He nodded at the brown-shirt boy, smiling when he got a nod in response. He nodded at the girl, and smiled when she nodded back. He nodded at the rest of the kids, and smiled brightly when they nodded back. They were all in on it. 

Top Hat boy continued his tickle attack for about 15-20 more minutes. In order to make this pass-out trick really work, he would have to make the security guard utterly exhausted, to the point of almost passing out. But he also had to keep up his rough tickles…because again, to make it realistic, the security guard had to sound like he was dying before ‘passing out’. So the kid dug deeper into his armpits, and tickled in other spots in order to REALLY make him scream. Though the security guard knew this was his ticket out, it was really difficult being tickled to the point of exhaustion. His body was jumpy and tense for a while…

But then…he reached a point where his body had gone completely limp…he stopped laughing altogether, and was just…silent. Only then, did the kid actually stop tickling him. Though he was supposed to pretend he was passed out, that was an unbelievably easy job for him at this stage. He could feel his eyes drooping and closing slowly. And it didn’t help that the animatronics were carrying him like a toddler. It made him feel…almost comfortable…warm…loved…

When the security guard woke up again, he gasped and got up onto his feet. Where was he?! In the street? Which street?! ANYONE?!...But getting out of the alley, he thankfully found a store that he recognized. With that in mind, he was able to figure out where he roughly had ended up. And with that knowledge in his mind and his wallet in his pocket, he took a taxi back to his home. Though the long tickle attack was a bit much, he was absolutely thankful to be alive…And he had those ghost children in the animatronics, to thank. 

[kazumist]

aki!!! 11 with cyno for ur 1k event ? WUWUU CONGRATS ULE ATE (∩˃o˂∩) ♡

prompt: brushing dirt off of their face

note: i got a bit carried away,, this is also slightly based off a tot card (just the idea of cyno thinking that you could never know that he's actually bad at something. nothing big, really) also thank u amai!! i hope you like it mwa <3

1k milestone event: open!

if you were thinking, what can the general mahamatra not do? well, here’s your answer!

it’s gardening. 

cyno was not born with a green thumb, unfortunately. every plant that he tries to grow ends up dying, even if he takes care of them pretty well! (kind of, if accidentally watering the plants too much or sometimes forgetting to water them at all counts as a “good job” for gardening). and because of that, cyno vowed that he'd never let you know that he’s actually bad at something.

that is, until the day you asked him to do some gardening with you.

“love, can you hand me the trowel?” you asked cyno, who had a concentrated look on his face as he looked into the flower pot in front of him.

“cyno?”

“cynoooo, earth to cyno? hello?” you called out, lifting a hand and waving it in front of him. that seemed to help him snap out of the trance he was in, perking his head up and turning it in your direction now. “sorry, what was that?”

“i said, can you hand me the trowel? the one next to you.”

cyno looks to where you pointed, and well, confused is an understatement. there were just a few gardening tools by his side, and cyno doesn’t have the slightest clue what a trowel is. he stares at the tools laid out, trying hard to think what a trowel could possibly be. he had to act fast, or else you’d get suspicious about why he’s taking so long to get what you’re asking for.

but with absolutely zero proper knowledge of gardening, he had to pick a random tool. he just hopes that he’s right.

“cyno… that’s a spade,” you sweatdropped.

goddamn.

“oh, you’re right. sorry, they looked similar.” looked similar his ass, what even is a spade? isn’t that a suit in a deck of cards?

“it’s okay! and you’re right, they look kinda similar. but what i’m actually asking for is the mini shovel that’s a bit curved over there.”

cyno had never felt more relieved when you told him that he was right. if he were to be wrong, then he would’ve blown his cover. he doesn’t know if he can keep this up much longer, especially when he hasn’t even planted a single seed in the fertilizer yet.

seeing as your lover was trapped in his thoughts again, he didn’t seem to notice that he had a bit of dirt on his cheek. “love, look at me for a second.”

“hm?”

a hand reaches up to cyno’s face as you gently brush the dirt off of his face. “you didn’t realize that you got some dirt there, you said as you slightly laughed at his blank yet a tad bit surprised expression.

yeah, you could never find out that he actually doesn’t know a thing about gardening.

bonus:

“love, did you know that i’m a flower? because i just need somebudy like you.”

“cyno, are you seriously giving me pick-up lines based on flowers just because we’re gardening right now?”

“cmon, can you at least admit that was witty?”

“uh-huh, whatever you say.”

[heliads]

sorry sorry, I'm spamming but I had this idea ages ago for a Luke Patterson x reader where the reader is an artist that does cover art for sunset curve promo.

Hear me out on this one; Luke tries to teach the reader how to play guitar and the reader tries to teach Luke how to draw. It doesn't end well, the reader is embarrassed that they can not play an instrument to save their life and Luke is embarrassed that he can't draw something as simple as a dog. But it's that thing where Luke finds it cute that the reader can't play even though they're trying hard and the reader finds it cute that Luke can't draw even though they are trying hard. And it just ends up all cute and mushy and ilysm I'm gonna marry you someday vibes.

i am once again reminding you that i miss jatp with every fiber of my being

masterlist

You are absolutely hopeless. It was one thing to sign up for this sort of job– artist by hour, some sort of after school nonsense that you were fitting in around your courseload so you could try and make at least a little bit of money– but it’s something entirely different to get involved in it like this.

Looking back, there was no reason for you to ever start feeling this way. When Sunset Curve first reached out to you over the opportunity to do the official art for their demo album, you were thrilled. They already had a decent sized following despite just having started, and you’d never created anything half so important as this. That’s how it felt, at least, like you were on the cusp of something new, something brighter than you’d ever experienced before. If only you knew how right you truly were.

It wasn’t just the job that was special, though, it was the people. Sunset Curve is made up of the four funniest, kindest, most amazing boys to ever walk the earth. You’re definitely not biased in that regard, not in the slightest. Reggie Peters cares more than anyone you’ve met before. Alex Mercer looks out for you every single minute of every single day. Bobby Shaw recognizes the potential in everyone who crosses his path.

And Luke? Luke Patterson, who greeted you with the widest smile you’ve ever seen the second he met you? Luke, who really should just be a friend? You couldn’t pin him down to one specific phrase if you tried. Luke is everything– creative, bold, bright, you name it. More importantly, he’s everything to you, but that’s because you happen to harbor a crush on him.

You couldn’t shake the aforementioned crush if you tried, but oh, how you wish you could. It does not do to spend every afternoon over there in Sunset Curve’s studio, pretending you’re sketching new designs for them or doing your homework when in reality you’re just wishing Luke might finally look up from his guitar and finally notice you as something other than a background character to his stellar world.

It’s not like Luke’s an asshole about it, it’s just true. Luke Patterson is so out of your league it’s crazy. Why would he ever look at you as something other than a friend or glorified coworker? Reggie and Alex have teased him enough times about flirting with anything that breathes that you know better than to overthink so much as a smile from him. Just because you happen to think the world of Luke doesn’t mean that he has to do the same thing about you.

That doesn’t stop you from almost losing your mind every time you hang out with the boy, though. In fact, you’re alone with Luke right now, and even though it’s pretty obvious Luke doesn’t take this to be anything other than a chance to spend time with a friend, you’re one accidental brush of hands away from screaming.

You had headed over to the boys’ studio early so you could think about some new designs for their albums, both the demo one and potential future numbers. You were given a key to the place a long time ago; the members of Sunset Curve accepted you with open arms and open doors back when you first started drawing for the band. 

Apparently they like having someone else there to force them to actually be productive and make music, but you’re not too sure about that. You swear that you end up talking to the boys for even longer than they manage to distract themselves, although that’s more fun than anything in your book. 

So, although you didn’t expect anyone to have issues with you showing up to the studio unannounced, you also weren’t expecting Luke to be there alone. You stand there for a moment, hovering over the threshold, wondering if you should leave or take this as your chance to finally get closer to him. 

Luke sees you and spares you from the indecision. “Come on in, Y/N. I’m not doing a whole lot, just practicing.”

You smile at him and step inside. “Technically, if you’re practicing that’s something. I just don’t want to bother you if you’re in a songwriting mood.”

Luke makes a face. “I would love to be in a songwriting mood, but the lyrics just don’t want to come. Please tell me you’re here as a distraction.”

You laugh. “I can be an excellent distraction when I wish, but I’m not all that interesting today. Just trying to get some ideas for a potential album cover.”

Luke watches you excitedly as you reach inside your bag for your sketchbook and some drawing supplies. “Are you kidding? That’s super interesting to me. Tell me, what direction is your grand artistic vision pulling you in now?”

You swat him lightly with your sketchbook. “There’s nothing grand about it, trust me. I’m here because I’m just as stuck as you are. Are you sure your next album can’t just have a completely blank design? Maybe one solid square of color? It would make it a lot easier on me.”

“Absolutely not,” Luke declares, “you’re already robbing us of our hard-earned cash, we at least deserve some designs in the bargain.”

The easy grin on his face tells you that he doesn’t mean a word of it. Luke and the other members of Sunset Curve have made it quite clear that they value your presence, both in art and in friendship. Besides, you have discounts when it comes to people you care about, and the members of this band are certainly that indeed.

“Well,” you smile, “if that’s the case, I’d better get on it.”

Luke watches as you do some thumbnail sketches for potential designs. His eyes never seem to leave your pencil as you shade in piano keys or trace the outline of a guitar.

At last, he breaks his meditative silence to pose a question. “How are you doing that?” He asks plaintively, “Every time I try to draw something, it takes me forever and ends up being a big eraser smudge. When you do it, though, you take two seconds and have a masterpiece.”

“I’ve been doing this for a lot longer than you have,” you remind him, “practice makes perfect, trust me on that. My first so-called masterpieces were just as full of eraser marks as yours.”

Luke harrumphs. “You’re just saying that. Embrace the fact that you’re extremely cool.”

“You’re just as cool as I am,” you counter, “you may be in awe of my art skills, but I think your music is way more impressive.”

Luke’s jaw drops. “No way. Half the time you’re in here, I’m messing up my chords.”

You grin. “That’s not true, and even if it was, that still makes you better than I am. I can’t even remember what a chord is, let alone how to play it right even half the time.”

Luke sits up straight, an idea occurring to him. “You know what? We can fix that. Let’s have a skills session. You teach me art and I’ll teach you music.”

“Just like that?” You ask, doubtful but smiling nonetheless.

“Just like that,” Luke confirms, and after that it’s decided.

Luke reaches over to grab his guitar. He places it on your lap, moving close to you so he can help guide your hands into position. You think your breathing might stop entirely from how it feels to have Luke’s breath hot on your cheek, his fingers wrapped around yours as he teaches you a chord. If you look up slightly, you can see how his face, no, his entire being is angled towards you. It is the most marvelous sight you have ever experienced.

Despite the beauty of the boy teaching you, your own mastery is far less substantial than you’d like. You can feel the shame of it heating up your cheeks as Luke reminds you of what you’re supposed to be learning for the umpteenth time. Watching Sunset Curve practice, you’d always wondered why you never picked up an instrument. This is reminding you of that reason:  you’re absolutely awful at it.

Eventually, your desire to seem at least somewhat capable in front of Luke wins out over your need to be so close to him and you carefully put the guitar in his lap.

“I think that’s enough for now,” you whisper, glancing away, “at this point, teaching me music is a lost cause.”

Luke shakes his head. “Hey, don’t feel too discouraged. It took me forever to learn. You wouldn’t believe how awful my fingerpicking was when I first started. You’re blowing my first attempts out of the water by a long shot, trust me.”

You laugh. “Somehow I find that hard to believe.”

Luke’s eyes are wide and earnest. “No, it’s true. Besides, I see this as an absolute win. If you can’t play the guitar, it means you need me around more often.”

Smiling, you ask:  “And is that a good thing?”

“Most certainly,” Luke breathes, and you think you might die just there, watching him look at you like you were worth so much more than you ever thought.

Luke comes to reality first, and looks away quickly, a faint pink blossoming over his cheeks. “If we’re trying to learn how bad we are at each other’s habits, though, I think it’s my turn to fail. It’s time for art lessons.”

You flip to a fresh page in your sketchbook and pass it over. Luke holds the thing reverently, and only through severe coaching do you manage to convince him to actually grip it tight enough to keep the paper steady. He keeps claiming that he doesn’t want to hurt such precious contents, but you think it might also just be a ploy to keep you laughing even just a little longer.

As much as you hate to admit it, Luke’s fears about not being able to pick up drawing might be true. You swear you give him easy subjects to start off, and despite an abundance of furrowed brows and studious expressions, Luke and art do not mix. 

At last, he looks up at you desolately and holds up graphite stained hands for you to witness. “See? It’s a losing battle, I swear.”

You bite back a smile. “It’s just like you told me about guitar, isn’t it? All you need is practice.”

You think you wouldn’t mind being there for a few more art practice sessions, either. Something about the way Luke is so devoted to trying to get this right, and all the while watching you draw out examples like you’re a living saint, makes your chest feel so tight that it might burst. You would gladly sink the rest of your afternoons and sunsets into these sorts of moments, walled up in the studio with Luke, losing track of time until you have no idea where your days begin and his end.

Luke must be feeling the same way, because he leans a little closer to you. “I’m not sure I believe it, but I wouldn’t mind more practice sessions with you. We wouldn’t even have to draw or play guitar if you didn’t want to. If you’re alright with that, of course. We could just, you know, hang out.”

The hope in his eyes is only matched by the delight in yours. “I think that sounds great,” you say.

Luke’s face brightens. “Really? I mean, yeah, it would be fun. Maybe we could go get ice cream soon.”

“Tell me a date, I’ll make time,” you reply. You’ll clear your entire schedule if that’s what it takes. This is something that you didn’t see happening in your wildest dreams, and now that it’s real, you don’t plan on giving it up for anything.

Luke lifts a shoulder. “How about Saturday afternoon? We can go anywhere.”

You could gladly spend the rest of the day just talking over the prospect of this date with Luke, but a sound from outside the studio makes you bite your tongue. You can see Alex, Reggie, and Bobby approaching the door– it must be time for the band to have practice.

Luke groans. “They have terrible timing.”

You laugh. “They didn’t know anything was happening, that’s their fault. I know everything I want, though.”

You don’t think Luke’s smiles have ever been brighter than the one he shoots you now. For once, you realize a most welcome truth:  all this time that you’ve been pining over Luke, he’s been feeling the exact same way. At last, the two of you have been able to get together, and you couldn’t be happier about it.

requested by @thatfangirl42, i hope you enjoy!

jatp tag list: @rogueanschel, @retvenkos, @caswinchester2000, @lovesanimals0000, @amortensie

[roetrolls]

(woagh! we did it again!! it's a collab between me and Chase @sasster! Look, there's a google doc!)

Appraisal

Emarra is still drunk on attention when he returns to his trailer, buzzing with adrenaline and the thrill of a crowd. He expects Sylvie will follow him here soon enough, his little sprite always so eager for his praise after a successful show. 

He’s already imagining what he’ll say to her, turning the words over in his mind as he busies himself removing his jacket and pushes past the beaded curtains into his home.

“Yumeno.”

He freezes. Now there’s a voice that will kill a mood.

Ever the performer. Emarra is quick to reel himself in, shocked expression melting into a smile tight enough to rival Faithful.

“General.”

An unscheduled visit from the Marauder rarely spells good news, but retiring for the morning to find the man waiting in your home? That’s a level of horror all its own. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asks through gritted teeth.

Zerkev has already made himself comfortable–if such a word can even be used to describe such a straight-laced troll–in the seat by the window, gaze hard and stern. 

“Sit.”

It is always cumbersome dealing with fuchsias that feel they can just walk into his home and tell him what to do. Resentment leaves a sick taste in the back of his mouth as he takes a seat opposite to the general.

“There’s no chance that what you’re here to talk about could have been a text message, I’m guessing.”

Zerkev’s expression tightens, not one for jokes on a good day, let alone on one where he is already beyond the threshold of having patience for the man.

“Why have you not found Mallum yet?”

Well, of course that’s what this is about. What else would The Marauder be making home visits for? There are so many ways Emarra can answer that question too, and they all flash in his mind one after the other.

Chiefly, he has been busy with his circus, and also it isn’t his job to play Pravus line babysitter.

Neither of these answers, however, would be met with the most pleasant of responses, so he swallows them down with the taste of resentment that now coats his throat.

“He’s in the company of professionals. You know that.”

“I was under the impression that you were a professional, Yumeno.”

“Gracious and the Roatus kid can’t find him either,” by the grace of God, he manages to swallow the indignance that tries so hard to claw its way out. “It’s going to take me some more time.”

“More time?”

Something snaps behind the general’s eye, perhaps his last thread of patience, something that somehow does not influence the rest of his expression.

Instead, Zerkev sits there stone-faced.

“Just a little patience, I’ll find him.”

“Mm,” comes the muted response. The seadweller stares a moment longer, gaze boring into Emarra with a scrutiny so intense he has to suppress the urge to shift in his seat. “Would you say you’ve been distracted from this task?”

Emarra all but scoffs at the accusation. Was he expected to put his entire life on hold until the kid was found? That’s a ridiculous idea, even for someone as work-focused as the Marauder.

“No,” he answers shortly, stopping himself before anything more insulting can tumble from his mouth.

Zerkev raises an eyebrow. “That so? I’d say otherwise, personally.”

He reaches into the jacket of his uniform to withdraw a phone. It’s almost comical how out of place the thing seems in his hand, but Emarra is in no mood for humor.

After a few seconds, Zerkev brandishes the screen, playing a short, looping clip of a shadow unfurling along someone’s wall. 

The Ringleader feels a brief twinge of satisfaction as he makes note of the tiger-shaped nightlight by the bed, one corner of his mouth twitching as if to smile.

Then he squares his jaw, lifting a blank gaze back to his uninvited guest.

“What am I meant to be looking at here?”

The general cocks his head. “You tell me.”

“It’s a recording on your phone, why would I have that information?”

With a nod, Zerkev pockets the device once more and leans forward on his knees, fingers laced together. He pauses a moment, expression deceptively placid, before answering. 

“I know you’ve more sense than to lie to my face.”

The statement, simple as it is, is easy to identify as a thinly veiled threat. Emarra, having worked with the general long enough to detect that threat a mile away, leans back into his chair as if trying to put some more distance between himself and the fuchsia. It takes some effort to conceal the panic working hard to bubble up through his chest, but he manages even then to keep his gaze level.

”Then you should know that I am not lying, to your face or otherwise.”

Zerkev purses his lips, and though his expression does not shift to betray him, he does possess the uncanny ability of letting his disappointment and irritation poison the atmosphere of the room without such dramatic shifts. 

The Ringleader very briefly finds his thoughts drifting back to the other’s missing son. Yeah, I’d run away too if this guy raised and was looking for me, no question. Poor thing must’ve had an intolerable adolescence.

Locked in a terrible staring contest with his boss, Emarra then takes the opportunity to sift through a mental list of his choice in extracurricular activities up to this point. He risks being skinned alive if he admits how lax he has actually been about finding Mallum in the many perigees that have passed between now and his being given the assignment.

He risks a fate worse than that if he so much as breathes word about harassing that damn runaway of his own in the meantime.

Zerkev clears his throat, the time limit on his second chance at honesty clearly reaching its end.

“Are you telling me that you think every time something goes bump in the day that it will have something to do with me? Come on. Be real, Zerkev. I have a life, you know.”

A disappointed click of the tongue is his only response. Is he really tsk-ing him right now? Beneath his indignation, an invisible fist constricts around Emarra’s lungs, abated only slightly by the thin shred of hope that spawns in him as the seadweller rises to his feet.

Did that actually work?

Zerkev fiddles with his cufflink and hefts a weary sigh, staring ahead of himself as if lost in thought.

“Yumeno?”

For fuck’s sake, would he just go already? “Yes?”

Without warning, the Marauder’s hand shoots out to grasp Emarra by the hair, yanking him from his chair by the scalp. The motion wrenches a pitiful yelp from his lips, palms grasping at his assailant’s wrist in an effort to relieve the pain.

“I thought I told you not to lie to me, son.”

His voice, perfectly level, belies no hint of anger. He might as well be asking about the weather for all his tone suggests.

“Zerkev–” 

The grip on his hair, already ironclad, grows tighter. 

“General Pravus, sir,” Emarra corrects himself breathlessly, a nervous chuckle catching in his throat. It would be unwise to double down he thinks, but… Ah, screw it. He’s a carnie at heart. Honesty has never been his virtue. “I have a show to run. You really think I’m wasting my precious time on pointless games?”

Zerkev regards him carefully, lips pressed into a line. The silence hangs over them like lead, suffocating enough to prompt another anxious plea from the clown.

“You know how Maelia treats me! Why would I go looking for trouble under his nose?”

“Hm.” The general blinks slowly, fingers still wound tightly in the purpleblood’s hair. “I suppose you wouldn’t, would you?”

Emarra nods the best he can with his head practically glued to the man’s hand, eyes blown wide. “Exactly! I–”

“Yumeno.”

“Sir?” He swallows, choking down his pride with some hope of warding off the venom that lurks behind that stony expression.

“Did I tell you that was Drakon’s hive?”

Emarra’s stomach drops like a stone, the panic he’s been working so hard to suppress now lurching to the surface, plain as day on his face. Zerkev’s expression is unflinching, much like the tight and fearsome grip he maintains on the Ringleader’s hair. 

A reply is hard to come by under that icy glare, but eventually the clown manages to find his voice.

“Wh-Why else would you be so upset?” he stammers, choking on his own desperation. “Everyone knows how you get about your privacy.”

The way Zerkev’s lip twitches, it’s clear that was not the answer he wanted.

“My livin’ with Drakon is public knowledge now, is it?” His tone, low before, turns downright dangerous. It’s a miracle he hasn’t ripped Emarra’s hair right out of his scalp.

Past the edges of his own hubris, the purpleblood can see that he is being given one final chance to come clean. As much as he hates the man, he can’t deny that the Marauder’s patience is astounding. Any other fish would have flown off the handle ages ago.

He swallows, fingers still clasped around the general’s assaulting wrist, and selects his next words with care.

“I made a mistake,” he says slowly, heart lodged in his throat.

“A mistake?” Zerkev echoes incredulously, almost amused at his audacity.

“A poor choice.”

“I’ll say. Unless you wanna tell me spyin’ on my home was a necessary part of the process?”

“I… I was just messing with the kid,” Emarra finally admits, voice small.

“Instead of lookin’ for mine.”

“Both! I was doing both! You couldn’t have expected me to drop my entire life for you!”

Zerkev exhales slowly, something between a growl and a sigh. It’s all the warning Emarra gets before the general throws his arm to fling him face-first into the wall, the ache in his scalp quickly replaced by a new searing pain and the scent of blood in his nose. He loses his footing in the toss and crumples to the floor in a heap, hissing quietly.

Before he has the chance to catch his bearings, the Ringleader feels a cold-toed boot upon his neck.

“I’d say I’m a reasonable man, Yumeno, wouldn’t you?” He grinds his shoe into the base of Emarra’s skull before easing up, not waiting for an answer. “So here’s what I think sounds reasonable.”

Still somewhat dazed, he can only grimace in response as Zerkev grabs him by the collar and hoists him to his feet to slam his back against the wall.

“You’re gonna get one warning. Keep that greasy nose out of my business. Leave my mate and his family alone. And find my goddamned son. Are we understood?”

Emarra squares his jaw and nods.

“Are we understood?”

His teeth are as good as dust with how hard he grits them. “Yes, sir.”

Zerkev regards him carefully, eyes flitting across his face as he, perhaps, tries to gauge the man’s sincerity. Emarra can’t help but bristle. Can’t he let him go already? What more does he fucking want?

The general frowns, evidently displeased by whatever attitude he can still detect on his underling’s face. The clown prickles under his scrutiny, for once facing down a type of attention he would sooner escape. Then, all at once, that attention is drawn elsewhere, to the small voice that sounds beyond the room’s beaded entrance. 

“Emarra!”

Though Zerkev doesn’t release the purpleblood’s collar, his grip loosens considerably, just in time for Sylvie’s innocent, four-eyed face to push its way into the scene. Those eyes become saucers when they land on the Marauder, the woman’s delicate features overtaken by fear.

“General Pravus,” she squeaks, gaze darting between him and her ringmaster.

Zerkev nods in greeting, venom all but evaporated, and Emarra thanks the Messiahs for his sprite’s timely arrival.

“I-I, um…” She shoots him another anxious glance, hand unconsciously drifting toward her own nose as she spies the blood leaking from his. “I didn’t know you would have… company.”

“I was just leavin’,” the general answers, though he makes no move to do so.

Another silence descends on the trailer, with Zerkev’s pensive gaze now settled squarely on the mutant. Emarra can practically see the gears turning in his head, and he only wishes it could come as a surprise when the man opens his mouth again.

“I just got one more thing to square away ‘fore I go. Miss Selari, hon, would you mind steppin’ outside a minute? Won’t be long.”

Sylvie hesitates, again looking to the clown. With an agitated grimace, he sighs and gives her a nod. The sooner they can get this over with, the better.

His approval eases her enough to acquiesce, and soon enough she is padding back out on light and silent feet, the gentle rattle of beads all that announces her departure. The moment that faint click subsides, Zerkev’s attention is back on Emarra.

“She’s sweeter than you deserve.”

The Ringleader balks at him, the tameness of the insult somehow a bigger slap than his previous scathing reprimands. He doesn’t care what the bastard thinks of him, obviously, but it’s not the type of comment he expects during this kind of performance review.

“How long’s it been now? That you’ve had her?”

“This is what you’re hanging around to talk about?”

Evidently, the question was rhetorical, as Emarra’s non-answer glances ineffectually off the general’s chest. He finally releases him and steps away, at least, allowing the clown some room to breathe while he prepares to prattle on.

“Mallum’s always been a bright kid, you know. Wicked bright. Bit more self control and he’d be unstoppable.”

“Uh-huh,” the purpleblood responds, his irritation palpable.

“He had a hard time with schoolfeeding. Lacked discipline, always got distracted with other things. Ain’t his fault– We’re a species built on base impulse. Same reason we don’t rear our own young.”

What the fuck is he even talking about right now?

“Most trolls lack the ability to self-regulate. We found with Mallum… It sometimes helped to remove the distractions for him. He hated me for it, ‘course, but it did him good in the end.”

“I’ll remember that next time I decide to become a lusus,” Emarra deadpans, wiping the blood from his nose.

Zerkev locks eyes with him, placid expression once again turning grave.

“Yumeno. The next time you force me out here to remind you of your job, I’m taking Miss Selari back with me.”

[awisespirit]

The Devil Within?!

(DAMI VER.)

Perverted neighbor GP Dami X FemReader

Warnings: ⚠️maybe be triggering for some⚠️ ⚠️Perverted Dami⚠️

⚠️ALL OF THIS IS PURE FICTION ⚠️

[3rd Person's POV]

A new apartment, a new neighborhood, a new environment and a new life. What could possibly go wrong?

It was finally time, time to move from your old crappy apartment to a new luxury one. Working all of those part time jobs really paid off. At the same time you were also going to start work at a new place as well.

"Hey Y/N, here's the keys to your place. Everything has been taken care of. If there's anything else you need just give me a call."

It was Jiu, your landlord. She seemed like a sweet person.

"Ah Jiu-shi thank you very much for helping me."

As you were about to take the keys from her hands, she stopped you.

"Wait Y/N, just one more thing before you go in."

Her eyes focused on you as she whispered.

"Everyone in this place are really awesome, but just be careful of your next door neighbor. Ms.Lee Yubin. Ok well that's it here you go."

She gave you the keys and was already on her way.

'Be careful of Ms.Lee?'

You asked yourself. Brushing off the odd feeling as you proceed to move in the boxes of your belongings into your new place.

[Dami's POV]

Mhmm fuck I'm gonna cum this toy is good but, aw shit not good enough. It's been 2 days since I last came. God I need a girl. A hot one. My dick has been hard and I can't cum with these useless toys.

I got up and threw my fleshlight across the room hitting the wall.

As I was about to sit back down my eyes gradually peeped over atthe window, then I saw her. A not so tall girl, beautiful skin, sliky hair and a sexy frame. She's the one I want.

My hand went down to my member slowly pumping while my eyes we're still on her. Fuck I can feel it coming. My hands moved faster pushing me to edge. And the it goes I exploded on my curtains. 3 days worth of not cumming.

My eyes peered through the window once again as I tried to find her, but she wasn't.

Is she new here? I haven't seen her before? Did that nosy landlord told her anything about me? Fuck jerking off thinking about her isn't enough I need more.

I'll get you soon pretty slut.

[Y/N's POV]

I brought all of my packed things inside and started unbox and arrange them on where each thing should. Even if I did move into a luxury apartment I didn't have much stuff to bring just important ones.

After a few hours, I was done with it. I'm exhausted, I opened the fridge and took out an iced cold drink and sat on my sofa. As I was about it drink it, a knock on the door made me pause.

Who could that be?

3rd person's POV,

You opened the door, as you saw a cute girl with creme blonde hair. She was taller than you. She smiled at you before reaching her hand out as she spoke.

"Hi there my name is Dami, I haven't seen you here before. You must be new here right? I'm your neighbor."

You shook her hand and introduce yourself as you invited her in.

"I'm sorry about the mess Dami-shi I'm still tidying things around here. Please make yourself at home."

She nodded and sat on the sofa where previously you were seated before her arrival.

"I have actually brought some cookies as a sign of welcome to your new home, Y/N."

"That's so nice of you, can I get you anything to drink? We can have a little chat."

"Yeah sure anything is fine."

You went in your kitchen and were making drinks for the both of you. You bent down in all four in search of some mugs which you could have sworn you stored them in lower cabinets.

Mind you that your kitchen area is clearly visible to living room area.

><><><><><>><><>><>><><>><><><><><><><><>

A/N: Heyy guys, so I just randomly had this idea.... Why don't I make The Devil Within dami VER.?? Maybe there'll be more for the other members?

This was kind of getting long so I broke it up into 2 parts. Part 2 will be released soon.

[coltermorning]

Wanted: Day One (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur Morgan x F!Reader, 18+)

Summary: Arthur needs a good take for the gang and decides to go after the bounty on your head.

Author’s Notes: I needed to flesh this one out to get the ending how I liked it so there will be a few chapters. Told from both your and Arthur’s pov and set just before the Blackwater massacre. Also this doesn’t feel like high or low honor Arthur but a good in between so I didn’t tag it.

Tags: Arthur Morgan x reader, eventual smut, enemies to lovers

AO3 Link

~

Wanted: Day One

Word count: 4822

The Van der Linde Gang had come to rely on two things and two things alone: hard work and money. All else came down to that. Dutch could claim it was family, faith, or whatever else he dreamed up all he liked, but Arthur knew better. He knew the bigger their gang grew, the harder it was for anything but those two things to drive them. That that, above all else, was what they needed to stay together and survive. He may have preferred the old ways when it was just the four of them, doing some good here or there, but those days were long gone. Now it was bring in money or die trying. And when Arthur stumbled across a particularly nasty bounty posted on Blackwater’s board, he figured he would have to do just that.

He and Hosea had been scouting out a scam on their own, letting Dutch and the others plan their boat robbery. It was nice working with Hosea—simpler, somehow. The man was sharp enough to make Arthur feel a fool time and again, but he felt he could take a back seat and let Hosea run things, something he normally couldn’t trust others to do well. And with this came an unusual calmness, a sense that he wasn’t doing enough. He always had to be going, running, finding a lead. So, when he rode into town and saw a brand new bounty poster, he couldn’t resist swinging off his horse and seeking it out.

The poster was for a shocking amount of money—a thousand dollars. Stranger still was that it was a lone soul, and that it was a woman. He read on to see the many crimes committed. It was nothing he hadn’t done himself which made him wonder what the price on his head would be. The amount still seemed high to him, but maybe committing as much murder as was mentioned tended to up the stakes. He pocketed the poster and went to mount his horse.

“I’d be careful with that one, mister,” said a voice from the porch of the Sheriff’s. Arthur looked over to see a deputy, a grave expression on his face. “Almost didn’t put that poster back up, how many people she done killed already.” When Arthur didn’t flinch at the threat, the man went on. “They all take that poster down, all as cocksure as you, and none of them’s ever come back. I’d think long and hard on that if I was you.”

“Why put it back up then?”

“We figure someone’s bound to catch her sooner or later. Get lucky more like. You think you’re the man for the job?”

Arthur chuckled. If anyone was, he was. It took a fellow degenerate to smoke one out. “I guess. Against my better judgment,” he mumbled.

“Well good luck then. I tip my hat to you.”

Arthur nodded at the deputy and turned his horse, heading for camp. He would need a few things before he tried his hand at this bounty, namely to tell everyone where he was going so that if he really did get in a bind, they could find him.

Upon reaching camp, Hosea sought him out and told him a few new details about the job they were running. It would be a week still until they could do it—it didn’t hurt to plan as well as they could in the meantime. After settling on that, Arthur made way to his tent to load up on ammunition. He put his bandolier on which drew Dutch’s attention like a moth to flame.

“You look like you’re preparing for war, son. Where’s the fight?”

Arthur pulled the bounty poster out of his satchel and handed it to Dutch. “Real nasty reputation on that one,” he told him. “I ain’t taking no chances.”

“No. Rightfully so.” Dutch finished reading it over and handed it back. “She sounds nice. Hell, may even fit in with our bunch.”

Arthur chuckled. “You ain’t kidding. Too bad she’s worth so much or I’d consider it.”

“You need another gun?”

“No,” Arthur said quickly, knowing this type of outlaw and that having anyone with him would just slow him down.

“Fair enough.” Dutch turned to go back to his tent, sighing as he went. “Good luck then. Do try to make it back in one piece.”

“No promises,” Arthur muttered.

With this, Arthur made for his horse, checking his weapons as he went. All was as in order as it could be, and the only thing remaining was the ride. Arthur mounted up with confidence, knowing what it would mean for the gang to bring in this much money. He would outsmart this bounty target if it took days and all his might to do it.

Barely out of camp, Arthur steeled himself and let determination take over, ready for the fight, ready to unknowingly go after none other than you.

~

Twenty days. It had been twenty days since you last saw a soul—a bounty hunter you’d left dead in the dirt. So far, you had put down five since coming to the wind-worn canyons of Hennigan’s Stead. It was the perfect place to evade capture. There were no trees, no cover for bounty hunters to hide in, nothing but the wide open. Sneaking up on you was not an option, and anyone bold enough to approach you outright would die for it. This was a game of strategy, and strategy was something you were deadly good at. You had booby trapped the paths at your back, sat yourself up at high vantage, and left the rest up to your skill and your sense. All that remained was luck, and with all the preparation, it had leaned in your favor every time.

As you sat at the campfire cleaning your revolver, you pondered how long you would stay here and where you would go next when your horse’s head snapped to attention. You looked to where it looked, down the canyon path below. Nothing and no one was there. It would be difficult for someone to hide there seeing as it was just after noon and the sun and shadows were currently working in your favor. Plus, you didn’t hear a horse—didn’t hear anything for that matter. You chalked it up as one of those gila monsters your mount hated so much and went back to cleaning your weapon. You didn’t completely wave away the threat though. Doing so would be unwise and the very thing to get you caught. You therefore shifted around the fire so that you faced where your horse still looked, rapt with nerves.

Minutes passed by, and the animal went back to standing with its leg cocked and its head bowed. You moved on to your rifle, cleaning it with precision, counting the ticks you had marked into its grain with your knife—one for each man put down. You didn’t ever think that would be something you prided yourself in, but life could certainly harden a woman. Your circumstances had forced you into your wayward nature, and you weren’t ashamed of it a bit. That is, as long as you weren’t caught. Meeting your maker was certainly something you had pushed far down the road, not intending to think about it if you didn’t have to.

Just as you finished with your gun, you heard a rock skitter down the path at your back and whipped around, glad once more for the daylight. The path rounded the corner behind you, so if anyone was around the bend, you wouldn’t be able to see them. You moved silently, flattening against the canyon wall at your back and moving steadily up the path, gun raised. You didn’t know how anyone could have gotten past the lines you had tied across the path farther up, especially not without alerting you. You were beginning to think this was your paranoia at work and that some snake or lizard waited just around the corner when you stepped around it, preparing to shoot.

You brought the gun away from your shoulder when you saw what lay in the path: absolutely nothing. No animal, no bounty hunter, nothing. How the rocks could suddenly start tumbling down the path on their own, you didn’t know. But you were suspicious enough to find out. You raised your gun again and made for your camp when you heard the quiet crunch of rocks underfoot. It could have been your horse shifting its weight, but you weren’t taking any chances. You rounded the corner again and felt your heart skip a beat when your gaze landed on a man standing just behind your horse, patting its neck like it was his own.

“Don’t touch the horse or I kill you where you stand.”

“You would have done that already,” he quipped. “If you could.” You noted he stayed standing just behind your horse, his legs behind its legs, his head behind its neck. Unless you wanted to kill your own horse, you didn’t have a proper shot. Not to mention shooting a gun this close may startle the animal enough for it to get in the way. You cursed yourself for letting this happen and held your gun steady.

“How’d you get up here?”

He chuckled, continuing to pat your horse fondly. It leaned into his touch, unaware of the danger. “Those lines you got drawn across the way reflect the sunlight. May want to reconsider where to put them during the day.”

You narrowed your eyes at his arrogance but pushed on. “Then how’d you get around me?”

“Climbed.” You hated the simple answer, especially for not thinking of it. A man of his height could easily catch the lip of the canyon just above your heads and pull himself up. He had probably watched you walk up the path just as he walked down it one level higher.

“Clever.” It was all you would give him. He was brave for coming here in the day, and it had paid off, as he had avoided your traps. But beyond shooting you where you stood, he didn’t have a way to catch you alive. You would put a bullet in him before it got to that.

“Was that you on the canyon floor?” you asked, stalling. You needed a better plan than what was unfolding now. The only problem was that he got more time to plan too, learning your nerve all the while.

“Yep. Backtracked when I realized you had the high ground.”

“How? You never saw me.”

“Saw the smoke.” He looked at you, one eye barely visible from behind your horse. And damn him for that temptation because your finger was itching to pull the trigger, but you still couldn’t guarantee your horse’s safety. “A word of advice. I know most bounty hunters are too stupid to go after their targets in the daylight, but it has its advantages. Learn to work against them.”

You felt anger rise in your belly at his patronizing tone, like he wasn’t about to try to capture you and have you hanged. “Yeah, well some have tried. They’re all dead.”

“Not all of them,” he said lowly, holding your gaze as he hid like the coward he was. You noticed the pair of guns climbing up his back into the sunlight. A fat load of good they would do him strapped to him. It was the likely sidearm you couldn’t see that worried you. But if he hadn’t shot you yet, he wouldn’t. He wanted you alive, and he must not be a good enough shot to try to disable you. You considered running for the path at your back and killing him when he pursued. In fact, that was looking like your best option when he spoke again. “Don’t think about bolting or I’ll shoot. Just come quietly. Don’t nobody need to get hurt.”

You adjusted your aim, wondering how your horse would react if you shot this man’s hat off his head to prove a point. For the brim of it was nearly all you could see of him, sticking out past the shining coat of your mount. “I’m still debating putting a bullet in you. The horse’ll live.”

“And if you kill it? For pride?”

“Not for pride. For survival. And if I did, I would just go find yours. I’m sure it’s around here somewhere.” That gave you an idea.

On a whim and before he could decipher your plan, you fired near enough but not at him, your gun louder than a cannon in the close quarters and with the resounding echo bounding off the canyon walls. Your horse reared in fear, but instead of lining up a shot on the now coverless man, you were already long gone, rounding the corner as fast as your feet would carry you. You heard him curse behind you and start in hot pursuit.

You ran faster than you ever had and followed the path upward, spotting a lone horse standing up the way. You ducked under the wire you’d planted, careful not to graze it, and turned when you got far enough away. You had spun around just in time to crouch as the man shot straight at your head. Taking you alive didn’t seem to matter anymore, and your aim suddenly became crucial as you raised your gun toward the wire he was nearing and fired right back. He was close enough for you to see his eyes widen in fear when he realized your plan. It was too late for him to do anything about it—the familiar snap of wire resounded, your bullet ripping straight through it. The man leapt backward as your rigged dynamite blew, the explosion louder than anything yet. You prayed your horse was okay but didn’t turn back to see the damage, too busy running for the man’s spooked mount. It was staying in place but only just, prancing as if its tether to this world was nearing its end. You jumped on its back and dug in your spurs hard, only looking back when you were well on your way. You saw enough dust rising to mean you had probably taken out the entire canyon path. You let out a laugh in triumph as you spurred the horse harder and let it fly.

~

Arthur was madder than a hornet and twice as vengeful when he finally got the horse calm enough to mount it. He spurred it hard, rounding the now dangerously narrow path out of the canyon, shooting through the dust clouds still forming. He couldn’t see where you’d gone, partially because of the dust in his eyes and partially because his head was still spinning from a blow to the skull. He knew the warm dampness at his temple was blood but ceased to care as he pursued you, angry with himself for getting close enough to that wire to let it blow him up along with the canyon. At least the horse was unscathed, and it was a good one besides—fast and sure-footed. When he topped the hill, he saw a speck in the distance racing toward the ranch he had passed on the way in. If its unbridled speed was any indication, it was his horse. And he owed the woman atop it a damn killing.

Arthur was at the ranch in no time, searching it up and down for signs of you. He didn’t spot his horse until he reached the other side of town, seeing its familiar coat flash in the sunlight as his mood soured further—it had no rider. He demanded the person nearest to explain what had happened. It was a boy worried sick about his new horse that had just been stolen.

“Was it a woman?” Arthur demanded as he dismounted, preferring his own horse.

“Yes, but…well, she was dressed funny.”

“What color’s the horse?”

“A bay, sir. Are you gonna bring it back?”

Arthur was already riding away when the boy finished his question. He hit the path and flew, pushing his horse hard. Once he had a better vantage, he spotted you. And what a sight you made as he felt the satisfaction of victory overcome him, knowing he would have you captured soon enough. For the horse you had taken liberty to must have been green—it was bucking higher than any he had seen before, snapping in half in its attempt to get you off its back. He had to hand it to you though, you were sticking to its back like you had grown straight out of it when he finally caught up to you. He got his lasso out and was setting his sights on you when you noticed him.

“Forward, damn it!” you yelled at the animal. Then, “Leave me alone you bastard! Can’t you see I’m busy?”

Arthur laughed at this. If it weren’t for the stunt you had pulled in the canyon, he may have even admitted he liked your daring.

He began swinging the lasso above his head, readying it with a big enough loop to go over your shoulders. He would need your arms trapped with no chance of reaching the gun at your hip. When the horse came down again, as stationary as it would ever be, he threw the rope. It went straight over your head. As the horse bucked, Arthur pulled hard, separating you from the animal with enough force that you wouldn’t fall underneath it and be trampled. The horse continued its bucking but moved away, far enough for Arthur to dismount and run to you. He flipped you over, noting your joining with the ground had knocked the breath out of you. Good. It was easier to work when his target wasn’t throwing insults left and right.

You let out a strangled cough, looking over to the horse still bucking like mad. Arthur smiled and continued his work, tying your hands tight behind your back. “You know, I reckon you nearly had that horse broke.”

You didn’t respond, still heaving in breaths. Arthur moved on to your feet, tying them just as tight.

“Shouldn’t have switched. You’d taken mine and you’d be on your way to freedom by now.”

“Screw you,” you said on an outward breath, falling into a fit of coughing after you managed the words.

He smirked and double checked his work before taking your gun from your hip and your rifle from your side—it had fallen away from you when you came off the horse. When he had both secured, he lifted you, making you grunt when he slung you over his shoulder. “You’re coming with me. Got a sheriff in Blackwater who wants to meet you.” When you didn’t respond to the jab, he lowered his tone. “And if you ever try to pull another stunt like the one in the canyon, you’re a dead woman. Mark my words.” There was still no response when he lifted you onto the back of his horse. He sighed in annoyance and made sure you still had a pulse. You did—your silence was just formed from spite, it seemed. He’d certainly seen it before, though he couldn’t say he expected it from you. All he knew of you so far was the fight you had in you, and if he had his guess, he would have thought you’d be kicking and screaming for your freedom by now. But maybe he was wrong. Or maybe you were planning something worse and he would have to kill you after all.

Arthur got on his horse, proud of his work despite the brief interruption in his pursuit. Leaving the bucking horse to tire itself out, he made way for Blackwater, thinking if he made good enough time, he’d get there by nightfall. That boy could get his own horse as far as he was concerned, especially since it was only down the road a ways. Arthur couldn’t risk letting you escape again besides.

It was only when he had gotten about an hour down the path and nearly into West Elizabeth that you spoke. “You leave my horse back at that ranch?”

Arthur had been rather enjoying the silence and serenity of the ride and let his annoyance be known. “Yes. And don’t start. I don’t wanna hear it.”

After a beat, in a tone more statement than question, you said, “You’re taking me to Blackwater?”

“No, I’m just in the habit of tying folk to the back of my horse for a joy ride. Of course I’m taking you to Blackwater. What the hell you think this is?”

You mumbled something Arthur couldn’t decipher, though your tone was bitter enough for him to take a good guess.

“Excuse me?” Arthur turned to look at you, wanting you to say it to his face.

You met his eye, and he saw the defiance in your gaze fade as soon as you saw the dried blood in his hairline. You barked a laugh instead. “That canyon rock get you good? That why you’re in such a pitiful temper?”

“Watch your mouth,” he snapped. “I can still bring you in dead you know, and dead’s a whole hell of a lot easier on me.”

“You won’t,” you shot back. “You want all that money for yourself. Greedy bastard.”

“You keep it up and I won’t give a damn either way.”

“Yeah you will,” you mumbled, nearly low enough for him not to hear. But he did hear, and he was growing tired of listening to you—tired of being in your presence. The money would feel much better in his possession than you would. With that thought and without another word, Arthur kicked his horse up into a lope, determined to get you off his hands as soon as possible. It only took two more insults of yours for him to knock you out cold in the meantime.

After long enough that his back was sore and his horse was sweating, Arthur watched the town of Blackwater come into view. It was already dark but hadn’t been for long. That was no matter—the sheriff would be right pleased with himself to have you in his jail cell no matter the hour. So, with a long breath born of fatigue, Arthur pointed his horse toward town.

He had barely crossed into Blackwater when he heard an almighty commotion from a nearby bush, the sound so sudden his horse jerked away from it. He looked behind him and found you gone. Arthur roared his anger and swung down with gun in hand, gaining on the bush when he saw you leap out the other side of it, hopping along with your feet still tied together. He would have laughed if he weren’t so angry, the sight downright ridiculous. He holstered his gun and retrieved his lasso once more, letting you make it a ways before he roped you just for the sake of crushing your hope further. As soon as the rope fell over you, you hit the ground like you had before, grunting in pain when your back met the dirt.

“What exactly was your plan?” Arthur said with amusement as he gathered the rope’s slack and stood over you.

You met his eyes with a hatred so deep he changed course.

“Don’t go looking at me like that. You made your bed, and now you’re gonna lie in it. Ain’t my fault it happened this way.”

“I thought you said you’d kill me. Or was that all talk?” you snapped. He understood then. You’d been escaping in the hopes that he’d shoot you dead then and there.

“What, are you scared of a little law? Of a noose around your neck? How is me killing you now any different?”

“It ain’t about-” You stopped and clamped your mouth shut tight in defiance. Not understanding this, Arthur ignored it and picked you up once more, throwing you over his shoulder.

“I’m walking you in this time. No funny business or your head’ll meet the back end of my gun.”

“I’m staring at the back end of something else right now and contemplating ending it all myself.”

“Very funny. Now shut it. That’s the last warning I’m giving you.”

You stayed mercifully quiet as Arthur carried you all the way to the Sheriff’s, his horse following dutifully behind. He somewhat expected the same deputy from before to be there, shocked that he had been successful. In fact, he was expecting something of a hero’s welcome but was met instead by a dark, quiet jailhouse. He looked around, dropping you on the ground but not leaving your side. He wasn’t foolish enough to let someone else steal the prize he had nearly lost his head to capture.

“Sheriff’s gone,” came a voice from Arthur’s right. He looked over to see a man leaning against the building, cigarette burning lowly in the darkness.

“Where’d he go?”

“He and his whole outfit’s been tasked with transporting them Portriss Brothers up north. Won’t be back for five days, he said. Would be longer, but he don’t trust this town to remain civil.” The man chuckled. “I don’t blame him. It only takes a minute for this whole place to turn to hell, no matter how civilized folk claim to be.”

Arthur ran a hand down his face. It was hard enough to keep you tied up for an evening. Five days was another story.

“Who you got there?” the man asked.

Arthur looked down at you, debating whether or not to tell him who you were. It was likely someone would try to steal you off him if he did.

“Girl I caught stealing horses,” he murmured, turning toward the direction of camp and wondering whether he should take you there.

He heard a laugh at his feet and looked to you, seeing the snide smile on your face and realizing what it was for. He reached for his gun to give you a quick blow to the head, but before he could, you beat him to the chase. “Name’s Y/N Y/L/N, fella.”

“The one whose posters have been up for months now?” the man responded, an excitement in his voice Arthur didn’t care for.

“That’s the one,” you answered. Arthur looked down and met your eye, deciding not to use his sidearm. He brought his boot down on your ribs instead. Hard. At contact, you let out a loud grunt of pain and rolled onto your side, your teeth gritted.

The man spoke again, his excitement making his voice louder and louder. “She’s worth what, a thousand or so?”

Arthur took a long breath. The goddamn things he got himself into. He pointed his gun at the stranger. “Keep your voice down and don’t tell nobody about this. Or I will find you, and I will kill you. Is that clear?”

The man threw his hands up. “I didn’t mean nothing by it. Honest.”

“Get going,” Arthur threatened, not flinching in his hold on the gun.

The man was smart enough to round the corner without another word. Arthur took in his surroundings, making sure no one else was around to hear just who he had tied at his feet. He didn’t see a soul and quickly holstered his gun before picking you up.

“Bastard,” you gritted out. He may have broken a rib or two with that kick if your pain was any indication.

“You deserved it,” he shot back. He threw you over his horse once more and mounted, deciding camp would have to do for the few days the law was gone. “I’m taking you with me until the sheriff gets back.”

“How kind,” you spat. Arthur thought he could hear a smile in your voice despite the venom in those words. It made him angry, and he decided then and there these five days would be hell for you. There would be no chances for escape, no getting a rise out of gang members. No, you would be spending five days tied to a tree with nothing but your guilty conscience as company. It wouldn’t be long until you were begging him for food and water besides, and he fully intended to use that to his advantage.

Arthur began forming a plan as he got closer to camp, wondering how long it would take to get you to crack. He was particularly skilled in doing so, and if he was lucky, he would be successful in fewer days than it took for those lawmen to make it back. If he was really lucky, he would have complete silence out of you in no time. Arthur grinned at the thought as he rode on, the night pushing in on all sides.

_________

Part two is here.