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unoislazy · 6 months

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Your Touch

Mizu x Reader

Summary: Mizu is touchstarved. That’s it, that’s the entire thing.

A/n: Next story will hopefully be “Caged Bird” part 3, then I will finally post one of the asks that I took an interest in.

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You looked at Mizu, her dark hair pulled up into the high bun it was always in. The loose curl that she always kept out no matter what the occasion, lightly bounced as she walked by, focused on whatever task she had to finish.

You watched and looked on with curiosity, you wondered if she had ever done a different hairstyle on her hair before. You thought a braid might compliment her features, or even half up, you had many ideas and suddenly you were determined to try them.

Well that would require Mizu’s permission first.

“Hey Mizu.” You began, drawing out each syllable of her name to quickly pass on the hint that what you were going to say wasn’t serious.

She paused for a moment, putting down a large box and wiping her brow before looking at you. Her eyebrow rose ever so slightly, her curiosity was piqued despite her not saying a word.

“Have you ever worn your hair differently?” You asked. She simply stared at you for a moment before shrugging,

“A few different times. I just can't really afford to when I’m doing ‘samurai’ things.” She said in air quotes. She never enjoyed calling herself a samurai, for one thing most of the time she purely acted out of the name of revenge not honor. Another, she’s a woman.

Personally, you didn’t really care about the rules of a samurai, you respected them and their ambition but the ones you had met in the past were more focused on their honor over anything else. It had only hit you when you had met Taigen, he was so obsessed with reclaiming his honor like a disowned child that he practically abandoned his engagement. You didn’t understand it, what good is honor if it can be taken away so quickly.

You looked up at Mizu who seemed to be deep in thought. You figured she was just thinking of the different styles she had done before, but her face held a certain sadness as she thought. You began to realize that there was a story attached to the topic of hairstyles that you knew better than to bring up.

“Have you ever braided your hair?” You asked, regaining her attention. She thought about it for a moment before shaking her head. It wasn’t a common style for the time so you weren’t exactly that surprised.

“Would you like to try one?” You asked. You had definitely piqued her interest, her eyes shifted ever so slightly wider as you patted the spot in front of you.

She obliged, sitting down and facing away from you, her legs in a crossed manner with her hands peacefully resting on her knees.

She almost seemed a bit eager to try the hairstyle which honestly excited you a bit, it’s not often Mizu openly gets excited about something, especially with her very subtle expressions.

She sat before you, her slim figure not too far away from you as you gently reached up and grabbed the hair tie that seemed to hold Mizu’s entire hairstyle together. You’d never understand how she did it with so much hair, it never made sense to you. Her sleek dark hair unfolded, a healthy glow could be seen throughout it, she took care of it despite it being up all the time.

With one hand you ever so gently began to rake through her hair, making sure there were no knots that might get in the way of the process. Because of this, you noticed Mizu stiffen for a moment, a shiver could visibly be seen going throughout her body.

Having seen this your hand jerked back, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. Before you could say anything she turned her head just enough to look at you from over her shoulder and said in a low tone,

“Keep going.”

You paused for a moment as her words sunk in. The way she spoke to you was no different than any other time and yet for some reason… it felt different. You decided to pay no mind to it as your hand returned to her head, slowly dragging it through and sending shivers throughout Mizu’s body yet again.

Despite this, she sat calmly making no other movements other than the occasional twitch here and there as your hands glided through her hair. Having her hair done was a pleasure she never thought twice about, but the way you so delicately pulled at her hair, twisting it and shaping it as if she was some piece of art, it made her feel cared for in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time.

You carefully separated her hair, overlapping the pieces in a rhythmic manner, cautiously pulling the groups of hair but never hard enough to hurt. It didn’t take long before you had finished, you tied it all together with the hair tie that she used before, letting go of your work.

“How does it look?” She asked, now turning to fully face you. There was almost some sort of innocence that shone through Mizu's expression, one that seemed to say she genuinely cared how she looked. It was kind of sweet to see her usually stoic and harsh exterior break for a moment, it showed you who Mizu really was even if it was for only a few seconds.

You had seen Mizu with her hair down before, maybe not often, but you had seen it. Something was missing.

You stared at her for a moment, a confused look riddled your face before it hit you, the curl.

You gently reached your hand up towards Mizu’s face, one finger looping around the curl that had been hidden away underneath all of the other pieces of hair. Not expecting this, Mizu froze, letting you do what you needed to do but also not knowing how to react otherwise.

Once you had fixed the curl, you moved back a bit to reassess your work. You smiled, finally happy with how it looked.

“Perfect.” You said, proud of the work you had accomplished. Mizu was happy enough just taking your word for it but she was still curious to see how she looked. She drew her sword partially, only just enough to be able to see at least a little bit of her reflection on it. From what she could see, she truly didn’t mind the look.

“So, what do you think?” You asked, patiently waiting for her answer. You watched as a very small smile graced her features as she said,

“It looks good.”

She put her blade away, turning to look back at you as she brushed a few loose strands out her face.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be so… gentle.” She admitted quite plainly. Her hands rested on her lap as she thought back to a time when someone else had done her hair.

“Anytime my mother did my hair, gentle didn’t seem to be a word in her vocabulary.” She joked, a melancholic yet reminiscent look made its way onto her face as she thought back to the many times her mother had scolded her for looking to feminine.

“Being rough will only get you so far.” You responded, not really realizing how that sounded. It earned a small snicker from Mizu but it still went over your head regardless. It had got you thinking, the blue eyed woman constantly trained, having faced the several hardships in life at such a young age that no one would even dream of facing. She had to be tough in every way possible if she had any hope of surviving.

But you were determined to show her, in your own way, that you can let your guard down every once in a while.

“Let me see your hands.” You ordered pretty out of nowhere.

“What?” Mizu responded, clearly taken by surprise by your sudden demand.

“Let me see your hands.” You repeated, putting one of yours out and gesturing for her to place hers on top.

Her eyebrows wrinkled with uncertainty, having not a singular clue what you were planning to do, but she still did what you told her to anyway. Her confused expression remained as she placed her hand on yours, her palm facing towards the sky. With your free hand you gently traced the lines on Mizushand, slowly going over each callous that you could see. Just as you had expected, her hands were coarse and rough, tense from constant overworking and pressure, or maybe they were tense because she wasn’t used to the feeling of someone else, you couldn’t tell.

At first she didn’t know what to do except watch your hands.

“What are you doing?” She asked, confused what the point of this was.

You continued to trace lines and pointless circles around her hand, occasionally gently massaging different points.

“You’re really tense.” You pointed out, “I figured this might help you relax a bit.”

Mizu sat still for a bit as you continued, still not easing up in the slightest. Having her hair done was one thing, she had it done before so she knew at least somewhat how to react, but this was something different. You looked up at her, noticing her unbroken stare before smiling at her.

“Relax.” You calmly instructed her.

She closed her eyes, eventually relaxing into the feeling of your touch just like she had done before. She had truly forgotten what it felt like to be touched in a way that didn’t result in a bruise or broken rib.

You continued your motions, occasionally putting slight pressure on different areas. However in one area you had put just a bit too much pressure, resulting in a noise that sounded like a moan escape from Mizu. You immediately stopped, taking your hand away as you apologized,

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

You looked up at her, ready to continue apologizing but you were met with a serious yet… almost affectionate gaze as she said,

“Don’t stop,” She began, her voice was quiet and relaxed so at least you knew your work was paying off.

“It feels nice.”

There it was, that feeling again. You averted your gaze, not able to handle making eye contact with her while also processing your very wild feelings at that moment. One thing about Mizu was she never truly realized just how attractive she was, she always deemed herself a demon or a monster because that’s what she was taught to believe.

But you saw past that and because of that, things that Mizu didn’t even think twice about doing, would nearly send you into a coma just because it was her doing it.

She had no idea the power she had over you just from a few simple words, and you had no idea the power you had over her just from a simple gentle touch.

You continued on like she had told you, smoothing out the tension in her hand the best you could without any prior training on the subject. Eventually you had switched over to her other hand which was somehow more coarse than the first. You couldn’t help but admire the amount of time and strength that went into forming such things.

As you continued, you could tell Mizu was refraining from making any noises. In all honesty, it was nothing you hadn’t heard before, she’s been in pain enough times around you for you to get used to her whimpering and groaning.

Except this time was different, usually the noises she made were from a place of pain and discomfort.

However, this time, they seemed to come from a place of pleasure.

Caused by you.

“It’s okay.” You began, refusing to look up at her. “The more you let out the more I know I’m doing the right thing.” You encouraged, and sure one could say it was for a selfish reason but really who could blame you.

You could hear her continue to refrain, but over a small amount of time you could hear her a little bit more. Your heart raced as you continued, the act you were partaking in was nowhere near as sensual as it sounded and yet it still felt so intimate. If anything that’s all you wanted it to be, but that was a line you’d dare not cross, at least not yet.

A little more time had passed, you had eased out all the tension you felt in her hands and let go of her. Almost immediately she began to miss your warm and gentle embrace, having returned to her harsh and cold reality. But really, it wasn’t as cold as she had thought because you were still there, right in front of her, looking at her as if she was the only human to have ever existed.

“There now, do you feel better?” You asked quietly, a bit sheepish considering the amount of thoughts that had crossed your mind that you would never say out loud.

Mizu rubbed her hand absentmindedly, her face seemed a bit glazed over like she had been so lost in her thoughts and she wasn’t ready to be a normal person again. Once she had finally, fully, snapped back to reality she nodded.

“Thanks.” Was all she said before you two sat in silence. The tension was practically thick enough to cut through but neither of you wanted to be the one to take that leap, not without knowing for certain it was one they could even take in the first place. Up until now, sure you two had been close, but you had never gotten so close physically. You wanted to, she wanted to, but neither of you wanted to own up to it. She claimed she didn’t need distractions, and you claimed it was a feeling that would flutter away just as quickly as it came.

Well you were both wrong.

You both sat there, not looking at each other, not saying anything before you decided to gain the courage to say,

“Mizu?” You practically whispered. She looked towards you, finally taking her attention off of her hand which she continued to rub, trying to emulate the feeling of your touch but to no avail.

“Yes?” She responded. You very slowly inched a bit closer to her, not trying to make your idea or intention too obvious but she already had a few possibilities in mind on how this might unfold.

None of which she was complaining about.

“Can I… can I touch you again?”

That was all you asked. Sure you had literally just put down her hand but it was the fact that you had even asked that sent the same shivers down Mizu’s spine. She went quiet for a moment, not knowing what to respond with.

She truly had never been asked for permission to do anything before, not in this regard at least, and it shocked her a bit.

It somehow became the most intimate question you could’ve asked.

She nodded, not saying a word as she continued to look at you. It was as if she was trying to memorize your features, as if she was trying to burn them into her retinas so she'd never forget.

Your hand very carefully went towards her, cupping the side of her face as if it would break with too much pressure. She slowly began to lean into your touch, the warm feeling returning quickly as she let her harsh exterior down yet again, feeling uncommonly safe because of your touch. From this position she looked towards you, her hand making its way up to your face, and brushing a few hairs out of the way before asking,

“Can I kiss you?”

Her voice was raspy and low, just above a whisper. She waited patiently for your answer as you both sat in silence before you nodded in response. With that, her hand that had brushed the hairs from your face, slowly made its way to the back of your neck as you both leaned forward and-

“Hey, I found this place that sells food down the road and I- Oh. You’re here.” Taigen had barged into the room, not a singular care in the world as he looked at Mizu with his usual disdain. By this point you had already jumped back from her, being startled by Taigens sudden presence while in such an intimate moment.

With a cold glare Mizu looked towards Taigen,

“What do you want?” She spat. She could get over him annoyingly asking for a duel every now and then but ruining this one moment for her was too far. She finally felt safe and warm in someone else’s embrace and the same man who ruined everything else for her had to come back and fuck something else up.

Before either of them could say any other ‘kind’ words to each other you very quickly made your way to exit the room, not wanting to think about the awkward moment any more than you’d have to.

“I’m going to go… find some things for Ringo. I’ll see you later Mizu, bye Taigen.” You said, very quickly making your way out of the room, leaving both Mizu and Taigen together. Mizu had watched you leave with a certain sadness that you could only really see in her eyes, the rest of her face remained as stoic as ever as she turned back to Taigen.

“New hair style? You look oddly feminine wi-“ The man began, pointing towards her still braided hair.

“Say another word and you’ll lose an arm.” She threatened.

“Noted.”

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ravenna-reid · 3 months

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The Jade Ghost

Blue Spirit Zuko x Bloodbender Reader

This story is completely different to what I usually do, but I've been watching Avatar: The Last Airbender lately and really hope ya'll love Zuko as much as I do.

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It was insufferable. Zuko, the crowned prince of the fire nation, was now a fugitive and stuck in some sort of village begging for spare change on the ground with Uncle Iroh. If that wasn't embarrassing enough, those who decided to mock him and his uncle made it all the more worse, the deep, unsettling anger within him turning into an unhinged rage. So he waited.

And when the sun would set and the darkness came to help hide Zuko's doings, he adorned his blue mask. The oxtail sabers in each hand felt good, like he'd gained some sort of control over his situation. Then he'd prowl through the night as though he was a ghost. The Blue Spirit. Taking change and food from those that looked like they had enough, or taking revenge on those that had mocked him or his uncle. He'd swiftly managed to throw one of the men that spat at Iroh into a wooden barrel. Splinters decorated the floor as well as the change the man had taken from them earlier in the day. Zuko grabbed the gold pieces and slipped them into his pocket. As he turned down the street, an opulent looking home being his next target, a blurred figure metres before him quickly caught his attention.

Zuko ducked his head to the side, just missing a dagger as it found its home in the wooden beam beside his head. Zuko turned on his heel to see three hooded men coming his way, armed and ferocious. He was able to swiftly disarm the first thug, throwing him into the wall of a nearby home. The other two put up a better fight. Zuko was focused on pinning the second ones arms, given he happened to be an Earthbender, but focusing his attention on the man almost made him forget the third thug. As Zuko turned and expected the blow to his head, something glinted in the air. Flashed as quick as a light. A swoosh sound came after it and the third man hit the ground hard.

Zuko dealt a devastating strike to the Earthbender before training his attention onto another person. Someone new. Adorned in an emerald green robe, her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, a single gold chop stick running through it. Her face, however, was concealed. An immaculate mask that looked as though it was carved from jade sat on her face, a mask almost similar to Zuko's. Steady eyes watched the third man through the jade mask as she spun a long, gold staff between her fingers. Her eyes flickered up to Zuko though, and he barely caught what she said. "Behind you."

The Earthbender was on his feet and tore two large boulders from the pavement either side of him. Zuko slipped past each boulder as they were thrown at him. After that, Zuko's next movements were a blur as he, the two thugs, and the Jade Ghost all fought relentlessly. She seemed to be helping, so he let her help...for now.

The Earthbender managed to get his first hit of the night and knocked both Zuko and the Jade Ghost to the ground. Zuko was on his feet, ready to attack yet again, but then something happened. Something odd. Something Zuko couldn't explain.

The Earthbender's arms twitched before they tangled together. Then, with an agonising cry he dropped to the ground. Zuko's eyes cut over to the girl that laid beside him. Focus was evident in her eyes as she manoeuvred her hands in a fascinating way. Hand flat, resting in the centre of her face before she lowered her arm and moved it in a wave like formation. Zuko clutched onto his sabers. Felt his hot, laboured breath against his mask. The Earthbender suddenly fell unconscious...and then Zuko realised.

Bloodbending.

The Jade Ghost panted as she got to her feet and picked up her staff. Turning to run, she was met with the ocean blue dragon mask. He was tall, dressed in black, ready for a confrontation as he gripped onto his sabers. The Jade Ghost just stopped herself before bumping into him.

"Who are you?" He asked, tone severe.

"Hey, I'm not asking you questions. Am I?"

"I suggest you answer." He threatened.

"Listening, I've been watching you. You're not bad...you've helped a lot of my people whilst wearing your little mask. Like me. So how about this..."

She slipped down an alleyway and with the shake of his head, Zuko quickly followed. She didn't want a confrontation, not when the sun was soon to rise and she didn't see the man in the mask as a threat.

As she sprinted and took the chance to look over her shoulder, relief spread through her chest. The Blue Spirit wasn't there. But suddenly, he was jumping down from a nearby roof. He grabbed onto her as he dropped down, and the pair tumbled over the ground before coming to a stop. The Jade Ghost tried her staff before it was knocked from her hands. Then, she resorted to using hand-to-hand combat. The strikes were fast and precise, but Zuko was just as fast and precise as her. She slipped his arm behind his back and put him in a hold before he broke out and pinned her against the wall.

Masks centimetres from each other, he leant in to ask another question.

"That was bloodbending, wasn't it?"

"Wanna find out?" She hissed.

His determination faltered. They stood and watched each other, and Zuko felt something he couldn't ignore. What was it? Was he impressed? Was he admiring her? He almost wanted to hit his head against the wall.

Suddenly, a light, green dust was thrown into his face. An irritable itch began in his eyes as he quickly let go of her. And just like that, she slipped away into the night. Just like a ghost. As he tried to search for her, Zuko quickly became annoyed. Dumbfounded. Curious.

Zuko made it back to the sorry place him and his uncle were calling 'home' for a while, hiding his mask and sabers inside of a deep crevice in the house they were staying in.

"Where did you go?" Iroh asked, sipping his fourth cup of tea as he watched his nephew angrily enter the room. The sun was filtering into the room, it's beams warm and welcoming.

"I had to clear my head. Tell me uncle, do you know anything about the Jade Ghost?"

"The Jade Ghost? Hmm," His uncle stroked his beard as he sifted through his memories. "Nope, never heard of him."

"Her." Zuko corrected as he stared out the window and wondered where she went. Who she was. How she learnt to bloodbend.

"Until next time Jade Ghost."

#prince zuko #atla zuko #zuko #zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #zuko imagine #avatar fandom #avatar the last airbender

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dragonmuse · 7 months

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Keep It In The Box : An Essay on OFMD Season 2 and the Failure to Heal

(here in is my season two reaction. It contains many many spoilers. It's also about 3k words long so you know what you're getting into.)

“See, I have a system for dealing with all the terrible things I've seen. There's a box in my mind, and I put the things in the box..” -Frenchie, Season 2 of Our Flag Means Death

…..and then he never opens it. Chekov’s locked box has no key in season two.

On first watch, it seemed clear to me that Frenchie’s declaration was a narrative plant. Clearly the whole season would be about that box of pain and trauma being opened, sorted through and at least the beginning of healing. The show had developed a reputation after season one of being kind and focused on queer narratives of healing from childhood. Ed and Stede’s parallels in their childhood traumas were frequently on display through season one and were repeated in flashback throughout season two. Jim’s season one arc about becoming someone who doesn’t think just of revenge and can now forge meaningful connections was profound, beautiful and often funny. Izzy is an antagonist because he doesn’t want Ed to move on or stop acting like the trauma-response version of himself. The antagonist wants to stop healing. The point is to grow, to change, to learn how to love. It’s one of the things that made season one work for me at the time, despite reservations about pacing and tone.

So naturally season two should follow suit. It’s a kind show! About healing and falling in love!

For the first several episodes, the remaining crew on the Revenge go through a gauntlet of trauma, forced to do and receive violence at Ed’s whims as he careens from self-destructive behavior to self-destructive behavior. This is the wounding setup. It was dark, but it seemed like it would have a payoff and at first it did.

Perhaps one of the most beautiful moments of the season comes in one of the small respites in those early episodes as Jim recounts Pinnochio to Fang to soothe him through his grief. That was the show that I expected. The kindness of that moment struck me very deeply. It gave me some understanding of Archie too, who seems to fall for Jim right at that moment.

That scene is the show season one promised. Season two led with packing Frenchie’s box full to bursting. Here is the fight to the death between lovers, there is a first mate who is mutilated and rotting in the very walls (the rot of the Revenge itself), and there is the storm of Ed’s rage and pain that threatens to consume all of them.

So surely these remaining episodes would concentrate on finding the humor in healing from those moments. That is the setup. Frenchie has a box. The box must eventually open.

Except time and again, all the characters who suffered are told that the only way to deal with what they’ve been through is to stick it in the box and never open it again.

Pete tells Lucius that he’s unable to move on and needs to let it go. Izzy has a story about a shark. Ed’s apology to the crew which doesn’t even contain the words ‘I’m sorry’ is just…accepted. I kept waiting and waiting for a meaningful apology to the people Ed had hurt the worst with his actions, but it seems all we get is Fang saying ‘eh, no problem, I got to hit you back so I feel better’.

The playful theme of ‘pirates are just violent sometimes’ from season one becomes a grinding horror machine in season two when every atrocity visited on someone is forgiven because the narrative needs it to be. Ed and Stede spend more time making amends with each other over the bloodless night on the beach than either of them spend trying to repent for their actions towards anyone else.

And let’s talk about Ed. Arguably this season pivots on his narrative, on his path to healing and growth. A path that starts at a very low point. His moment in the gravy basket, deciding he wants to live because there are still things to live for is so great! So one might assume that what would follow would be him pursuing those things, making amends, making connections. He and Stede have a wonderful moment, talking about being whim prone and how they’ll work to avoid that, build a relationship by going slower.

Yet, at no point do either of them stop following whims. They never heal or learn from what’s happened to them. They both keep running from thing to thing, particularly Ed. It’s a whim to sleep with Stede, it’s a whim to run off to fish, and the finale gives us just more of their whims. Ed drops fishing as fast as he picked it up. He finds those leathers in the ocean, murdering the symbolism of leaving them behind. Even the inn is a whim, one of those things Ed decided he’d be good at without evidence. And Stede joins him in that without a single on screen conversation about it ahead of the moment.

Ed needs to heal himself and to do that he needs to confront what he’s done and do the work to heal the wound. Instead, he doesn’t meaningfully apologize to anyone, besides Stede and Fang. Despite Izzy’s dying words (we’ll get to that), not only do we never see the crew caring about Ed, working to make him family in the same way they do with Fang and even Izzy, he also doesn’t choose to stay with them. So what is the point? Where is the healing? Or does even Ed, beloved main character, have to live with it all stuffed in a box?

He ends the season in the leathers he threw away, in a relationship that’s barely stabilized, going to live in a house which we are told by the narrative (in that they are very very clearly paralleling Anne and Mary with Ed and Stede or why do we even get that whole Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? episode) will only end in them setting fire to each other to stay warm.

But Vee, I hear you cry, it’s a ROM-COM. This is all meant to be ha-ha funny and you are taking it so seriously!

Cool beans. Then why the hell isn’t it funny? Healing is often filled with comedy because people deal with pain with humor. You can heal and laugh at the same time. The finale especially is almost entirely devoid of laughs, almost entirely devoid of joy until the last minute for that matter. The episode that should show off with a flourish how far everyone’s come, mostly serves to show that no one has grown.

Okay that’s Ed. I want to talk about Lucius next. Our former audience surrogate (that’s taken away in season two when he doesn’t get enough screen time to perform that role and no one takes his place) really goes through the wringer. He experiences many many terrible things, including sexual assault (which is made into a grimace-laugh line that doesn’t take away from it’s seriousness because oh hey, that can be done as it turns out). He’s nervous, he’s smoking, it’s clear he’s suffering.

There’s a beautiful moment where Pete tells him ‘hey, I was also in pain. I grieved’ and that’s great. It’s good that Pete sets a boundary about Lucius not obsessing over the past to the point of occluding their future.

We even get our comedic moment where Lucius pushes Ed off the boat (still not apology, but I’d lost hope for that by then) and that doesn’t help enough. So Izzy comes in with a shark and the advice that you just have to move on.

Just…you know. Play pretend. Forget.

Shove it in a box. Ed didn’t take my leg, a shark did. Ed didn’t kill you, a shark did. Live with the person that tried to murder you because it’s your fault you dangled your leg over the side of a boat. That is the show’s message. I thought on first watch, that surely this would also come back up and be explained that you can’t live that way, that that is no way to heal. That it would become clear that this was no way through. You cannot make everything into sharks.

Lucius can move forward and still carry pain. He can still want a meaningful apology and still want to talk to his lover about what he’s dealing with while moving forward toward a brighter future.

And what of the flirtatious promise of relationships and connections being the way to heal? Look to Oluwande and Jim, whose heartfelt romance from season one was relegated to the bins of history in favor of a narrative that made him a brother Jim once had sex with. They could have had Archie AND Oluwande, who in turn could also have Zheng, but that never seems to be an option. With a single short conversation, they are broken up with, despite a brief tease at the birthday that they still ‘dance’ together, it never actually manifests. Jim and Archie never talk about what they went through. It’s swept under the rug as fast as knives are lowered.

Lucius also no longer flirts with other people, the solution to his pain is to propose and get married (but not too married, lest we forget that they’re two men, they don’t even get to be husbands or even the more respectful mates, no. They’re mateys.) This season proposes that the only happy endings are monogamous ones, where no one talks about anything painful that went before.

To ensure that message, beyond assuring the success of Oluwande and Zheng’s relationship, Jim and Archie almost entirely disappear from the narrative. Sorry you guys were given layers of trauma and no growth and not even much to do this season, we need to make sure that everyone remembers Oluwande is the break in Zheng’s day so when he says that to her five minutes later we know exactly what he’s referencing. No time for Archie to learn what an apology is or for Jim to get one line in with Oluwande that isn’t affirming their newfound broship. Must do more flashbacks to things we just did two episodes ago!

The show even dangles the conversation of the Revenge being a safe space. Why would any of them ever feel safe when the man who tortured them is allowed to walk among them and they are expected to forgive and forget? What’s safe about that? The ship is never made safe for any of them, but that’s never addressed.

And Zheng! Amazing, hysterically funny Zheng! She loses her ships, her entire way of life, the kingdom she built for herself and then…she doesn’t even get to captain the Revenge. We don’t know what becomes of her fleet, of her plans, her ambitions. Don’t worry about it, she has a romantic partner and isn’t that what every lady wants in the end?

(But Vee, I hear you cry again, there will be a season three! Maybe it will be All About Zheng! To which I say: then why did they present us with the most series finale feeling episode ever? If there’s more, I have no idea where it’s going. BUT VEE: BUTTONS AS SEAGULL ON THE GR- Fine. It’s time.)

Let’s talk about Izzy Hands.

Izzy manages more healing than anyone else this season. He reaches his lowest point, suicidal in the bowels of a ship that’s become a prison (very much in contrast to Ed’s suicidal low). The person he loves most in the world has shredded him physically and emotionally (and if you’re in the camp that thinks Izzy deserves the abuse that Ed gave to him, I would really like you to sit quietly with yourself and ask why you think there is ever anything anyone can do to deserve that treatment). He’s low, he shoots Ed to protect everyone, and then seems to plan to drink himself to death, mourning his losses.

And then another beautiful moment! The crew move past their own pain to help him. They work together for the first time and it’s to give Izzy mobility back. He treasures it. He cries over it. He uses that kindness extended to him to reach a new understanding of Stede and help him succeed, doing the work to make real amends. He sings in drag, he’s vulnerable and beautiful, celebrating the side of himself that he must’ve loathed in the first season. He’s an elder queer man, coming into himself.

He never gets an apology though. (‘Sorry about your leg’ without eye contact is not an apology. There is no responsibility taking, no acknowledgement of the weeks of torture that came with it.) Izzy also never really has an honest conversation with anyone about what it means that the man he loves punished him so severely for the crime of trying to protect the crew (yes, lest we forget, Izzy lost his leg because he was trying to keep Ed from re-traumatizing the crew and himself).

Izzy does all this work, but even he’s not allowed to take it out of the box. It’s a shark, not Ed. Ed is just ‘complicated’ (the language of abuse here is so upsetting and I think not even intentional).

And then he dies. His last act? To apologize to the man who tortured him and shot at him. To have done all this work, to take on all the blame. And then die.

In a rom com.

This show ends in a profoundly unfunny moment of telling the audience: this is the one character that did the work, that made amends, that tried his hardest to accept the parts of himself that he had a hard time embracing and formerly embittered him. He’s fully accepted his queerness and turned it into beautiful music. He’s disabled, and he worked hard to accept that. The man he loves will never love him back, so he worked hard to make Stede able to meet Ed on an even playing field. The Giving Tree gave up its limbs and its trunk, and it’s not even allowed to be a stump to sit on.

Kill the queer elder, who has managed to figure out how to live and in his own way how to heal. Kill him before he manages to teach anyone else how to meaningfully move forward (he almost gets it with Lucius, almost, but it’s meant to be rule of three, you know. Cigarette..shark…and then…and then fuck it, Lucius doesn’t even get to say a word at his funeral).

The message of this season again and again is that there is no healing, just moving forward. Like a shark. Like a bird that never lands.

That is not a kind show.

Season two is not a kind season.

It splinters people up and jams them back together without purpose or reason. It tells everyone who experiences pain that they should shove it in a box and not deal with it. No one who really needs one gets an apology of any sincerity. No one puts in the work to gain forgiveness. (Ed wearing a onesie is not The Work. Ed fixing a door is not The Work. Ed broke people that the show wants us to care about. Ed never does the work of making those amends. He fires off a Notes app apology at best. After all, it’s what he told himself via Hornigold in the gravy basket: you move on or you blow your brains out! Good thing he took his own advice and therefore had to change nothing to get his just rewards.

I would’ve taken just fifteen minutes of Ed trying to actually make amends. It could’ve been hilarious! Imagine awkward Ed trying to dance around what he’s doing with Jim and the two of them having a knife throwing competition about it. Or him and Frenchie attempting to make music together, writing a song about the raids they went on! It’s not just the crew robbed of their healing because of this, it’s Ed himself. He never meaningfully changes or makes amends. How is he any different at the end of the finale then he is standing on the edge of that cliff with Hornigold? He hasn’t moved on, he hasn’t healed. He tried one thing (fishing) that doesn’t fucking work and then he runs right back.

No one leaves this season better than they went into it. They’ve lost an elder queer, they’ve lost their joyous and queer polyamory, they’ve lost a chance for meaningful reconciliation with Ed and Ed lost any chance of looking like he gave shit if they did. Stede grows enough to accept the crew’s beliefs as important and then leaves them behind without a care.

Izzy gets a beautiful speech about piracy being larger than yourself. Ed and Stede, within twenty minutes of that speech, leave piracy. They are incapable of giving themselves to something bigger, apparently. They haven’t learned to be a part of a community. They haven’t healed from their childhood trauma or their fresher wounds. They are still just following their own whims.

Zheng’s life work is in tatters, but it’s fine, she has love. Oluwande and Jim aren’t together, but it's fine because they both have dedicated monogamous partners. Lucius was deeply scarred by what happened, never recovers much of his first season personality, but hey he got-well it’s not married exactly- but you know good enough!

Frenchie, who has a box forever locked in his head, is captain. Because the key to success is to lock it all in a box and never open it. What a message. What a show. Conceal, don’t feel. Smile because it’s a happy ending. Don’t mourn the dead, don’t try to tell people what happened to you (they will literally run away or cry too hard to listen and really you’re just bumming them out), and any meaningful change you make is only rewarded with death.

Frenchie is now a pirate captain with a box in his head full of trauma that’s never been opened, leading a crew with more wounds than scars. Wonder how that could turn out? Wonder how many years before he might want to retire and then happen to run across a gentleman pirate. As if no one learned anything at all.

#our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd spoilers #the strangest message sent #and no idea if it was on purpose #I kind of think it wasn't somehow #but boy howedy did it come across

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thequietkid-moonie · 11 months

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Yandere Aquamarine Hoshino - Headcanons

[ YANDERE HEADCANONS ]

[ Oshi no Ko ]

I really REALLY love Aqua, he is just so ✨ amazing ✨ Thank you so much all the ppl who asked me to write this, it gave me a lot of motivation. This is dedicated to them!! I reaaaaaally hope you like it as much as I love Aqua did!!

Also, please be aware that I've only seen the anime!!

After dying tragically he was blessed with a new life, being rencarned as the son of the person he admired and loved the most in the entire world, now going by the name of Aquamarine he started to live a dream life, it wasn't all perfect but it was amazing nonetheless, and Aqua wouldn't change his new life for anything else

However, the cruel destiny had others plans and an unfortunate day life would be taken in cold blood from his beloved Ai, and not just that, Aqua had been forced to watch his beloved mother bleed to death and give them her last breath with an I love you without being able to do anything, even when he had the knowledge and determination to help her his body was too small and young to do anything

That day Aqua doesn't just lost his mother, he lost the most important person in his life, the one he loved the most, the one that was the light of his life, losing Ai is something that Aqua never got over it and felt like he had nothing else in life, it becomes his whole purpose to take revenge to her death because he feels like his life lost all purpose without her, Aqua was sure that nothing could ever bring him so much joy and happiness to his life after losing Ai... but he was wrong

Aqua was always focused in his plan, that much that he almost completely forgot about the rest of the world, he was too focused on achiving his revenge and protecting his sister that he almost lose the opportunity to light up his life again, he almost lose the most important person in his life once again without noticing it

Getting to know Aqua was pretty difficult from your side, so if it isn't you the one who were interested at first and insist it has to be the other side, being Aqua who grows interested on you after noticing how bright you are, how much potential you have to bring joy and light to others life (however, if it depends on him it would take some time because even if he noticed it pretty quickly he doesn't want to just get excited so soon)

Is a slowly process to get Aqua's attention and get close to him but when it happens it will be a point of no return, once Aqua noticed you and get interested on you there is no way you will be able to get away from him, not matter what you do he isn't going to lose the light of his life again

Aqua doesn't want to get all excited immediatly by you, even when his heart is racing and his chest feels warm and fuzzy, a feeling he swears that he only had when seeing one of the presentations of Ai, at first he doesn't want to accept it and will see you pretty wary, prying every little detail he can get of you, getting a point were he is just following you around without your knowledge, all of this with the excuse that he has a feeling about you, but is a feeling that he doesn't comprehend

It reach a point where it start to become pretty obvious that something is bugging his mind, Ruby, Miyako and even the director notice how distracted he seems lately and they started to point it out for being worried, he is normally calm and composed but right now he seems troubled and maybe even anxious and still he denies everything

It take him a while to understand his feelings, he is so used to being focused on his revenge that he doesn't fully understand that what he feels for you is and intense love and an overwhelming need to protect you, he isn't wary of you but of everything around you, you are just too bright! too beautiful! too special! he can't help but feel atracted to you, you are like a ray of bright hope that illuminates his dark and empty world, you make him feel more than regret and desire for revenge

The moment he finally realice the inmense love he feels for you Aqua has a moment of feeling immensely desperate, he already lost the most important person in his life once and the only though of something happening to you freak him out, Aqua NEEDS to be close to you, Aqua NEEDS to protect you, so after his initial anxiety he quickly start to work on his plan to get close to you (even if you already tried to befriend him he needs to feel like he is doing something to get close to you), he had already a lot of information about you so now he just has to use it to get close to you

It actually doesn't take much time before you two become close friends, Aqua is really smart and he can easily act in a way that will make you easily like him and trust him, so in no time you two become close. The main objective of Aqua was be able to protect you but as the time pass and you two get to know each others more (he prying more and more information about you without your knowledge) he can't help but fall more and more in love with you, with every moment you two spend together Aqua is more and more convinced that you are perfect, that you truly are a star that illuminates his life

Aqua has a big soft spot for you, it doesn't matter how you are or what you do together, every moment Aqua has the opportunity to spend with you where your fully attention is focused on him, where is just the two of you it feels so pure and magical, it feels like a true bless for him to be able to bask in your presence and do anything and everything, even just small and mundane chats feels so soft and warm, a really refreshing environment and a break from his usual sadness. That is why Aqua hates with his entire being whenever someone dare to interrupt the two of you in one of those moments, it isn't always that he has the opportunity to be with you alone or take a break of his plans of revenge and being interrupted is like if others where forcing him to return to the cruel reality that just want to take you away from him (even if is Ruby who interrupt he gets mad, however he can't really stay that way for too long to his sister)

There are moments where Aqua feels like he shouldn't be near you, he feels like he will just bring you problems if he continue insisting on interfere with your life, like if you will be safe and will be better if he just let you go away and be free from him, what he wants the most is your safety and happiness and he can't help but feel like if he himself were a danger for you, but that thought is quickly vanished the moment he sees you again, Aqua can't just live without you, you are the light of his life, he needs you and if that means to protect you with his life he is more than willing to do so

Aqua is always lying and acting to achieve his goal but as the time pass is more and more difficult for him to lie to you, his true self just slips from his lips without being able to stop it in time, he just let you know things that are personal to him, like his feelings or what he wish, and yet he never is completely sincere, he won't let you see that part of him that wants you all for himself or that part of him that is burning with a desire of revenge, not completely at least

Just as his love for you grows it also does his need to protect you, he even start to become pretty possessive over you, is just that the memory of what happened to Ai hunt him down, the impotence and terror he felt that day fulfill him with anxiety, it even bring him nightmares sometimes about you walking away from him or even dying in front of him without being able to do something to prevent it

Aqua is already afraid of something happening to you, but if you work in the entertainment industry his worries just increase, he knows how crazy the fans can be and he wants to protect you from anything of everything so a situation like this will make him really worried. It would depend in how far you had come to what he will do, if you are just starting he will sabotage your work just for you to have no other option to leave it and try with another work less dangerous (also, taking advantage of the situation to comfort you about all of this and get closer to you, something he is not proud of), but if you already are famous, even a little, he won't do much since it could be very complicate or bring you problems, Aqua will try to stay calm and just support you but he is easy to trigger, at the minimal sign that you could be in danger (physicaly or mentally) he will start making a plan to make your career fail in a way that won't be suspicious or seem too unfair

Aqua never show this part of him to you nor directly warn you of posible dangers, he want you to think that nothing will ever hurt you, you shouldn't worry your pretty head about such terrible posibility because he will make sure it never happens, even if he has to investigate every single person in your life to make sure non of them will represent a threat. However he tent to indirectly tell you that not everyone is worthy of your trust (except from him since he already showed you of being trust worthy)

Aqua is willing to do everything in his power to assure your safety and to assure that you will never leave his side, if he has to manipulative everything around you to make you see that he is the only safe option or even manipulate you to become completely depend on him he will. However he won't be so happy with having to manipulate you, deep down in his heart he wants for you to care for him and love him just as he loves you just for who you are, and also he want for you to never lose your brightness, he will feel terrible to do something against you but his anxiety doesn't let him alone, your safety is his first priority and Aqua is willing to do anything he has to keep you by his side and be able to see your beautiful smile every day

Aqua will make sure you trust him so much that he can easily lull you to do what he wants, he knows what is better for you, he just want to keep you safe, he knows what is better for you, you don't have to worry about anything because he is here to protect you from anything and everything, you can feel free to put your life into his hands because he will take care of you like delicate and beautiful star you are, he won't let anyone reach you ever again, you won't have to worry about anything again, you have him and that is the only thing you need, he will care for you and love you just the way you deserve for the rest of eternity

Tagging the people who were wanting for this, thank you so much for you patient I hope you like it!!

@lumiriai @azriel-sama @miyakoa @elysiaxas @kwelibeeery @daily-average @gloxiniasbitch @kult-o

#oshi no ko x reader #aquamarine hoshino #aquamarine hoshino x reader #aqua hoshino x reader #aqua x reader #yandere aqua x reader #yandere x reader #x reader #x gn reader #anime x reader #manga x reader

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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 1 year

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A collection of all my writing. ♡

12 Days of Smuff Masterlist

Aemond Targaryen x OC

Series Masterlist (ONGOING) (18+)

Lady Arianwyn Targaryen, Lady of Runestone, was not born of love. Nor passion. Nor even a sense of duty. She was seeded by her father, the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen, in an act of unbridled hatred, and borne of her mother, the late Lady Rhea Royce, as a desperate grasp at revenge. But even a child born of such darkness can find her way to the light. With her mother dead, and father flown across the Narrow Sea with a new wife, the girl is taken in by her Aunt, the Queen Alicent Hightower, to be raised among the little family she has left. There, she finds her cousin, Prince Aemond Targaryen. As they grow, the two find themselves indelibly bonded. The two spend long nights in the palace library together, studying the histories of both Old Valyria and the First Men, seeking to understand who they are and where they fit in the world. But finding that place proves more difficult than in the fairy tales they read. The seeds of disaster were laid long before they were born, and as tensions in the family rise, it seems as though their places may begin to diverge. Will they let themselves be pulled apart as the dragons dance?

Warnings: Mentions of rape, m/f smut, violence

Studious (ONGOING) (18+) Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Moodboard by @sapphirehearteyes

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V - Part VI

Your marriage to the One-Eyed Prince is not as romantic as you hoped. The wedding night is beyond awkward and confusing, and afterward, your husband seems more than content to ignore you. But you keep finding yourself drawn to him, and the strange way he makes you feel. And though you don't know it, he is drawn to you as well.

Warnings: SMUT, p in v sex, masturbation (m and f) bad sex (these kids have no idea what they're doing), Aegon saying Aegon things, all the awkwardness in the world

What is Broken (WIP) Aemond Targaryen x Pregnant Sister-wife!Reader

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV

The war, the "Dance of the Dragons," as they have come to call it, is over. And yet, you are not celebrating. You have just learned that your husband, Prince Aemond, spent the last months of the war with another woman in his bed. Not only that, but his mistress is pregnant. Just like you...

Warnings: Angst, pregnancy and related symptoms, infidelity, maybe smut in the future

Inconceivable (WIP) Aemond Targaryen x Sister!Reader

Part I - Part II

Westeros has been at peace for nearly a year, and a wedding has been planned to celebrate the anniversary. King Jacaerys will marry his aunt, the only surviving child of the Greens, and unite both Targaryen bloodlines at last. It is a fairy tale ending, but this is no ordinary fairy tale...

Warnings: Fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, true love, miracles... Angst, grief, forced marriage, more to be added

My Fair Lady's Maid (WIP) (18+) Prince Aemond Targaryen x Lady's Maid!Reader

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV

Frustrated with his grandsire's tedious and thorough process of choosing him a "suitable" bride, Aemond makes a declaration that a lady's maid could be indistinguishable from a true noblewoman so long as she was sufficiently dressed and educated in embroidery, conversation, and the like. Otto takes this as a challenge, and gives Aemond four months to turn one of Helaena's lady's maids into a noblewoman.

Warnings: Smut

The Girl at the Table (WIP) (18+) Michael Gavey x Reader

Michael has a plan for Oxford: complete his degree at the top of the class, avoid the wealthy, spoiled pricks that make up the majority of the student body, and stay focused. The plan begins well, until a girl begins sitting at his study table.

Warnings: Smut, math

Monsters in the Garden (ONGOING) (DDDNE) (18+) Ettore x Reader

Part I - Part II - Part III

No one comes to your garden but you, not even Dr. Dibs. So what is the most dangerous man on the ship doing leaning against your doorway and watching you work?

Warnings: SMUT; hand job; kissing; blood; mentions of rape, murder, and violence; female genital mutilation; vague mentions of corpse mutilation

Storge, Philia, Eros, and Agape (WIP) Osferth x Reader

Series Masterlist

When he arrives in Coccham to join with Lord Uhtred Ragnarsson's band of righteous warrior, Osferth does not get the greeting he expected. Uhtred himself is very clear that he has only accepted the young monk to irritate his father, and the few warriors he is introduced to delight in picking fun at him. Still, it is better than the monastery, the Lady of the estate is kind to him, and the servant girl who leads him to his new chambers is... something entirely new to Osferth. Something that, perhaps, will help him understand what the Bible means when it speaks of love.

Note: This is a series of inter-connected oneshots that can be read together or on their own.

That Pointy-Eared Blond Bastard (WIP) (18+) Half-Vulcan!Aemond x Human(?)Reader

Graduation - Away Team - Red Alert - Holodeck - Pon Farr

You are Aemond's greatest rival at Starfleet Academy. Or you would be, if he cared enough to have rivals. Vulcans don't care that much. But Aemond is only half Vulcan. And you... you bring out something decidedly non-Vulcan in him.

A Companion (WIP) Otto Hightower x Young Widow!Reader

Series Masterlist

At the suggestion of Princess Rhaenyra, King Viserys Targaryen had commanded that his Hand, Otto Hightower, find a new bride. Preferably at the King's own wedding to Otto's daughter Alicent. While the Princess intended the suggestion as a form of revenge for Otto's machinations which led to the royal engagement, he intends to make the best of it. While he has always known that his late wife, Madelyn, is the great love of his life, he welcomes the idea of finding a tolerable companion. What he doesn't expect is you, a lady widowed far too young, who begins to spark feelings within him he thought long extinguished.

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circeyoru · 3 months

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{Demonic Companion} What if the lover is a killer?

This request can also be found in {Demonic Companion _ Part 2}

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@rl8002d

Why do I want the lover to actually be a murderer? 😭 my brain is confused.

😶 getting murdered by our "love" the betrayal! At least in Hell we'd have Alastor

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What if the Lover is a killer?

Okay, this can go depending on when it’s found out and what type of killer the Lover is (like by directed targets). For the sake of easiness, I’ll call this person LK. from now on (stands for Lover -is a- Killer). Basically I’ll set Alastor to be the one to find out, since love is blind and you’re blind when you in love with LK, also to avoid more scenarios

When it’s found out:

Before you’re crushing on LK or got together — Alastor wouldn’t even know this person. Like LK? Who’s that. Oh, there’s a killer around, so he’ll be protecting you and telling you to be careful. He wouldn’t find the lover’s identity since he’s more focused on you and spending what little time he has with you on Earth

When you’re crushing on LK — Alastor’s in denial for feeling soft and romantic for you, but then he’s jealous that your attention went to another. He lost to a human? It started out as his pride being damaged and challenged, that’s why he went to investigate LK, nothing more, nothing less. But then he found fount this LK was much like him. He’d advise you, perhaps hint at LK’s dark secret, instead of telling you outright. He’s not jealous! But it does make him realize he actually treasures you more than what he led on

During your relationship with LK — Immediate red flags. Alastor wants to make sure you were safe and happy, now that you were not admoured at him, he wants what’s best for you and not in a toxic way. He sees that you really really loves this LK and LK seems to reciprocate back. He’d actually threaten LK since he was doomed to go to Hell, he’d have an eternity to torture LK when LK died if you were so much as hurt, physically, mentality, spirituality, and emotionally

Type of Killer:

Outsider Victims — LK’s killings are random, or are the victims. There’s no linkage and basically points to a serial killer. You wouldn’t be a potential victim since it could tie back to LK. So Alastor is more relaxed but still on edge all the same

Targetted Victims — Think of it as revenge type or with a specific goal in mind. As long as you aren’t on the list, Alastor will keep a hands off approach, but there is the possibility that if you accidentally get in LK’s way, LK might kill you and Alastor won’t have that

Lover Victims — LK’s killings are directed at easy prey. All the past lovers and close friends of LK somehow ended up dead one way or another and LK is still free as a bird. At that point, Alastor will do everything to break off your relationship with LK, no matter the time period stated above (assuming he knows about LK of course)

Now for the exact writing request!

What if you were killed by LK and ended up in Hell with Alastor? (this is on the assumption that Alastor didn’t know LK is a killer)

The last thing you remember was pain and a heartbreak. You remember tears running down your face and the disbelief of the entire situation. You couldn’t believe it. Your 3 year anniversary with LK was your death date. You thought you were going to spend a happy life with LK and Alastor would be watching over you like a guardian angel or demon

When you got to a place with so much red and creatures from fantasy and fiction. You knew you were in Hell. Alastor told you more tales than you can remember, he joked that you’d go to Heaven but you knew you’d go to Hell because you did a demon summoning when you were so so young. You had asked Alastor of his moments in Hell to prepare yourself and you were glad to have done so

“Happy Hotel… I need to go to Hazbin Hotel… I want to see Alastor…” You sobbed again, you didn’t even realize your demon form was more of a ghost than anything. You did love the paranormal after all. Your cries echoed as you floated your way to the hotel, unknowingly causing the demons around you to wither in agony until you were out of earshot. You left along a icy trail behind you while you looked for a way to the hotel

“Radio Demon. Do you know where the Radio Demon is?” You would ask some unlucky sinners and demons. They shiver in your presence while you remained unanswered. Most figured you had a bone to pick with him, wanting to take the title of Overlord. You didn’t realize they were sending you to an early grave since they thought you didn’t know Alastor’s reputation, so they pointed you in the right direction of the hotel

You knocked on the door, ignoring the way you appear, you honestly didn’t know how you looked. The only thing on your mind was that you needed Alastor’s companionship. You patiently waited until someone answered the door, by the looks of it, Charlie Morningstar, the Princess of Hell

“Hi, welcome—”

She was promptly cut off as you leaned forward, “Radio Demon. Where is Alastor the Radio Demon?”

“What did he do this time.” A lady in so much grey, Vaggie, groaned as she moved away her spear to tap the ends against the floor. “Hey, if you want to cause trouble, can you do it outside of the hotel?”

You didn’t get a chance to explain yourself, though you heard of how many sinners and demons would look for Alastor to do battle in an attempt to gain power and attention. When you heard a voice through static and saw the demon in red, you rushed pass Charlie and Vaggie to hug Alastor by the waist. “Alastor!”

Everyone was having an internal panick attack when they saw you hug Alastor out of nowhere. They all knew you were going to die a painful death.

Alastor’s head tilted to the side as static grew painfully loud. “You are?”

“It’s me.” You tilted your head up to look at him, a frown on your face. “Did you forget?”

His eyes widened a bit in realization and recognition, he returned the hug as the static and darkness toned down. “Darling, Sweetheart, what are you doing down here? And look like this? What of your anniversary?”

Your grip on him tightened, tears flowed again. “I died. LK killed me. So… So… I woke up in Hell and went to find you at the hotel.” You buried your face in his torso as you tightened your hug, crying, “I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t realize what LK was doing. I’m sorry.”

You didn’t even realize his growing murderous aura. The hotel members all stayed silent at the scene, a bit fearful of what Alastor would do if they interrupted the moment. Alastor had to control the urge to destroy the building or anything at the moment, he didn’t want to frighten you any further considering what you went through

“Fortunaturely, my darling, this LK fellow will destine for Hell after death. If you please, you can give LK a taste of revenge. How does that sound?” Poor attempt at comfort, the hotel members all thought. But when you cracked a chuckle, they were amazed and surprised

“You’re still terrible at comforting.” You smiled, letting Alastor wipe away your tears with his claws while you calmed down. “But thanks.” You looked away a bit guilty, “Still, I don’t think I want to see LK again… Especially in Hell. Who knows what LK’ll do.” You gasped, “LK would be more powerful than me! I need to hide, just in case—”

Alastor silenced you with a clawed finger in front of your face, “Shhh, my doe. You’re in Hell, not on Earth anymore.” His grin widened as he kneeled down, while you were smaller and shorter, it seemed to be in your demonic nature to float, much like a ghost would. He held your hand and kissed it, “We could be together anytime and anywhere without judgment.”

You remained hesitant. “But you’re an Overlord and you host the Hazbin Hotel. You were already too busy to visit before. I’ll be a burden… I don’t mind staying in hiding.”

“Nonsense! You shall not be subjected to such thoughts and plans. The hotel has plenty of room or you can stay with me! Nowhere is safer. I assure you.” Alastor smiled. The two of you turned to Charlie who immediately nodded her head to support Alastor’s claims. “See? Our dear princess is a kindhearted soul, she wouldn’t turn you away even if you begged!”

“As long as I’m not a bother.” You spoke softly, your smile returning

“Never, my dear.” Alastor got up, guiding you to the staring members that were watching the entire scene silently without so much as a peep. “Allow me to introduce to you, this is my human friend whom I’ve been visiting since forever! Due to some accident, death has come too early.”

You introduced yourself, bowing a bit as you greeted everything. “Hi there, I’ve heard a lot about you guys from Alastor. He’s quite talkative about the project to redeem demons.”

Alastor watched as the wayward souls warmed up to you as he expected quickly, formally introducing themselves and denying anything that would paint them in a bad light in your lovely eyes. When you giggled and laughed along, he knew you’d enjoy yourself

It was only after everyone turned in for the night and you were sleeping peacefully on his bed without sadness or reminsice of that soul, that he summoned his minions and he let out his wrathful order, “Keep an eye out for that no good lover and bring LK to me alive the moment LK falls.” The shadow minions all scattered, some even escaping to Earth if they could to spy on LK and his inevitable death. “That thing will serve as the perfect courting gift.”

Note: Okay, that's all for now. Cause I don't see any request, so I'll take it as my break until you guy send me some (〜^‿ ^)〜

Circe Y.

#Circe's Nighty Writings #Circe's requested writings #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #Demonic Companion

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dira333 · 5 months

Text

Assistant to the Hero Part II - Amajiki x Reader

Requested and beta'd by @fuzztacular , Part of my Follower Celebration

Part I - Masterlist

3,5 Months as his assistant

There are no more gifts on your desk.

Instead, you find them in front of your room at the most random of times.

One of your favorites, a blue piece of sea glass, sits next to your coffee cup one morning.

Amajiki’s sitting at the table just a few steps away, finishing his breakfast.

“Thank you.” You say, picking up the sea glass. He must have put it there while you went to the bathroom.

“It reminded me of you.” He says, voice almost calm.

“Because I’m blue?” You tease and hold it in front of your left eye as if to look through.

“It’s rare.” He says instead, a distant look in his eyes you cannot place.

Amajiki places a DVD on your desk just after lunch.

You glance down at the cover and back up to him.

“Where did you get that?”

“Mirio’s girlfriend lent it to me.”

“Why?”

He shrugs, blushing. “I told her you wanted to see it. It’s for movie night.”

“We can’t always watch what I want to see. You gotta pick the next one.”

He nods, a little smile pulling at his lips.

“Here.” You grab two Bento Boxes from the Fridge and present them to Amajiki. “I made us Lunch.”

“Oh?” He opens one of the Boxes. “Octopus sausage?”

“I’ll put the real thing in next time. You just have to tell me when you want Lunch and when you want to eat out, okay?”

“Yeah.” That little smile is back and you wish you could look at it a little while longer without being a creep.

It’s Tuesday and you’re on the Couch, hot water bottle on your stomach, chocolate open on the table in front of you.

Amajiki freezes in the doorway. “Did something happen?” He asks, whispering.

“Huh?” You look up from your book, sniffling. “Oh, no, I’m just… I’m on my period and I’m reading this book… This part is just really sad.”

“Why? What happened?”

“There’s this dog… His owner had a pet-food shop but died and he’s defending the shop in case his owner comes back…”

“And?” Amajiki’s now standing next to the Couch, peering down at you anxiously.

“The bad guys just destroyed the shop.”

“Oh no.”

“Yeah.” You nod, wiping your eyes. “But there’s this guy, he’s a little silly, but he means well, and I think he’s going to help the dog take revenge.”

“Is he?”

“I don’t know yet, I’ve just read this, listen…”

When the chapter ends and your voice is hoarse from reading, the dog’s fate is still not decided.

It might be your Hormones speaking, but Amajiki seems interested in its fate just as much as you are so you pat the spot next to you and urge him to come closer, hold the book out so that both of you can read at once.

When it does end happy, you sink back into the cushions with a happy sigh.

“That was a good book.” Amajiki mumbles next to you.

“It was.” You hum happily, sleep pulling you in. “Do you read too?”

“Yeah.”

“What kind of stuff?” You close your eyes as you speak. Just for a second, to rest your eyes, you tell yourself.

“I can show you next time.” He offers and you nod.

“Next Tuesday, kay?” You mumble, words a little slurred.

4,5 Months as his assistant

You’re in the middle of making Dinner when Amajiki comes home from the gym.

“I’m going to shower.” He says right after greeting, shuffling off to the bathroom.

“Kay, but don’t take too long. I’m making Takoyaki.”

Dinner is the time when Amajiki is the least nervous.

He’s usually focused on his food, doesn’t have to listen, doesn’t have to look at you and you can’t help but use this to your advantage.

It’s the only time you really get to look at him, at the little satisfied smile that curls around his lips when he likes the food or how his nose scrunches up when he’s not that fond of it. He doesn’t have the biggest appetite, but with his quirk, he likes to try new things.

Tonight, his hair is still wet from the shower, a floppy, dark mess that’s only parted by his ears.

Your eyes find them eventually, and not for the first time you wonder if they’re sensitive. They remind you of cats ears and the thought of him as a little Neko has you dig into your food, trying to calm your racing heart.

“Do you want to go out for Lunch tomorrow?” Amajiki asks, voice a little shaky.

When you look up, surprised by his sudden question, the tips of his ears are red and a blush is working its way onto his face.

“I didn’t make a Bento Box yet, so if you want to eat out, that’s no problem.”

“No, I mean, yes… but, do you want to get Lunch… together?”

You blink in surprise. A thought hits you, its implications making your heart skip before you berate yourself. No, it’s definitely not a date, don’t get ahead of yourself.

“Sure. I’d love to. Where did you want to go?”

Amajiki doesn’t talk for a moment, mouth open as if he’s still processing your answer.

“Amajiki?”

“Oh, yes.” He snaps back to himself. “There’s a new restaurant down the street. They make Butter Chicken and you mentioned you like that.”

“Oh, Butter Chicken!” You clap your hands in excitement. “You know me so well.”

He chuckles and nods, turns back to his meal.

It’s a Tuesday, and just like the weeks before, he leaves for his room right after dinner to pick out the book he wants to read tonight. He gets the snacks and the drinks, preps the living room while you do the dishes.

Tuesdays, like Fridays, have become a thing in your household. On Tuesdays you read books, on Fridays you watch a movie. He doesn’t have that many other nights that he’s consistantly home at the same time as Patrol times love to change, but you find yourself next to him at least two times more each week, trying out some new video game his best friend recommended or watching the Hero news together.

It’s cozy and it makes you feel like you’re in a relationship, making it harder and harder to keep yourself focused on the truth. He is just a friend, you’re just his roommate. And his assistant.

On your way out of the agency, you meet Kirishima, who beams at you.

“Hey, long time no see. How are you?”

“I’m doing great. Are you going for lunch too? We’re trying out the new restaurant down the street.”

“I-” Kirishima stutters to your surprise. When you glance at Amajiki for backup, you realize why. Amajiki’s leveling Kirishima with a glare you’ve never seen on him before.

“Everything okay, Amajiki?” He seems to snap back to himself, shaking his head a little as if to clear his mind.

“Everything fine. Sorry, I think I zoned out a little. But I think Kirishima’s already busy. He mentioned something earlier, right?”

“Right.” Kirishima clears his throat awkwardly. “But have fun, you guys.”

It’s awkward at first.

You’re used to eating with him, at the kitchen table in your shared apartment, where he’s as calm and collected as he can possibly be.

But it’s different out here.

He barely opens his mouth, even though you get the table at the back. Once, twice his hand moves across the table as if trying to touch yours but he always pulls back.

You wouldn’t have minded his touch, not if it would make him more comfortable and even less if it meant he was that comfortable with you.

But he doesn’t seem to dare and you don’t either.

“This was nice.” You still point out when it’s time to pay. His mouth tells you that he’s getting anxious again, that thin, wobbly line you will always be able to recognize him by. “We should do it again.”

“Really?” He asks, his eyes on your shoulder to avoid eye contact while you watch the fingers of his left-hand play with the sleeve of his cardigan on his right arm.

“Really.” You nod to emphasize your point.

When the waiter arrives with the bill, Amajiki moves to pay.

“I got it.” He points out firmly when you still grab your wallet. “It’s on me.”

“You don’t have to-” You insist, only to be interrupted.

“You two are very cute.” The waiter, a middle-aged guy, all but swoons at your sight. “First dates are so precious, am I right?”

Amajiki blushes up to the tips of his ears, but he doesn’t deny it.

And even though it’s not real, you don’t deny it either.

Even if it’s just a silly little fantasy, it’s nice to live in it, if only for a moment.

6 months as his assistant

It’s Saturday morning and the sun is peaking through the window.

You need a minute to wrap your head around the fact that you’re sleeping on the Couch.

It’s warm and comfy under the blankets and if not for your bladder screaming at you, you could stay here forever.

As you slowly work at untangling your legs from the blanket, something moves by your side. With a low groan, Amajiki lifts his head, stretches out his arm, and pulls you closer toward him, settling his face in your neck.

You freeze. Are you still asleep? Did your usual dreams become hyperrealistic all of a sudden?

But his breath tickles your skin and you can’t imagine the weight of his arm over your chest, right?

A part of yourself - the part that doesn’t need to pee - tells you to go back to sleep. You’ll never get a chance like this if Amajiki was awake.

But the larger part of yourself screams at you to get up.

If Amajiki wouldn’t do this if he was awake you have no right to use his sleeping body to cuddle. Carefully you pick up his arm and slip out from beneath it.

When he grumbles, you grab a pillow from the floor and place it where you’d been a second before.

He pulls it closer just like he did with you and digs his nose into the soft fabric.

Amajiki looks, there’s no denying it, as cute as a kitten.

Your hand darts out before you can stop yourself, to push a stray lock of dark blue hair behind his ear. His hair is soft and he sighs at the touch, relaxing further into the pillows.

You sigh.

“Amajiki.” You whisper. No reaction. “I’m falling in love with you.”

He lets out a tiny snore and you swallow your emotions for yet another day and turn for the bathroom. If he asks about this, you’ll deny it ever happened.

You wonder if he can feel it.

The shift in the air. The new awkwardness that wasn’t there before.

How your eyes seem to get stuck on his mouth whenever you talk.

You’ve always been hyperaware of him, but this is a different level.

Your body cannot decide where it wants to be. Near him, where you can see and smell and touch him, or far far away from him where you can forget that this isn’t a thing. You’re just roommates, coworkers, maybe friends.

There’s no denying that you need a little space, so you skip lunch with him in favor of locking yourself in a bathroom stall and calling Kyoko.

“Are you sure you don’t have a chance?” She asks, always the voice of reason.

“We have a good thing going on.” You say instead. “I work for him. I don’t want to jeopardize that. I wouldn’t be able to look at myself if I was the reason he feels no longer safe at work.”

“Well, you know the theory of getting over feelings like that. But are you ready to put that into practice?”

“What do you mean?” You know exactly what she means. You just don’t want to hear it.

But Kyoko isn’t your best friend because she keeps the ugly truth to herself.

“You will have to move out. I know that this is part of your ‘good thing’ but you cannot stay there and get over yourself. Imagine how it would be if he brought home a girl.”

Her words are like knives to your heart. Wet stains appear on your skirt and you realize that you’ve started crying, soundlessly.

You really, really, really don’t want to move out. You don’t want to lose what you have, but this is the real world. You can’t have your cake and eat it too.

“Okay.” Your voice sounds almost normal and Kyoko does not comment on it. “I’ll start looking. Talk to you soon, okay?”

“Okay. Love you, take care.”

The call ends and you lean back, rest your head on the wall, and pull your knees up to your chest. Not the most comfortable position to sit on a toilet seat, but you’re not at your most comfortable to begin with.

The door opens. You freeze, well aware of how you must look. You put on Mascara this morning, the non-waterproof-kind. You will not show yourself to anyone until your makeup is fixed.

“No one here.” A voice says from the door. “So, what’s the tea?”

“I heard Kirishima started dating someone.”

“What? No.” The first voice groans in annoyance. “I mean he was kinda silly, but he was hot. And he’s going to be one of the major sidekicks in no time. He’d earn so much money. Goodbye work, hello life of a stay-at-home girlfriend.”

“I know, right? Apparently, it’s some girl he went to school with.”

“Ugh, don’t tell me it’s that Heteromorph Pinky. He doesn’t have any taste. But what else is new?”

“Well, Suneater is dating too.”

Your heart freezes, stops after one painful last thump. What?

“That’s old news. How long has that been going on? I told you that girl only got the job as his assistant because he told Fatgum to put her there. They’ve been dating way before she became his assistant.”

“Do you think so? They didn’t seem that close.”

“Yeah, but Kirishima was so over the moon when she got the position, I tell you that they had a thing going on. Also, remember how she told me off when I tried to talk to Suneater? I work inAccounting, my role is way more important than hers.”

“Well, cheer up.” Accounting-girl’s friend seems annoyed now. This topic must be old news too. Your mind’s still reeling from what you’ve just heard.

They think that you’re dating Amajiki? You? That you got the job because of him?

“I heard that Lemillion is going to switch to our agency. This is top secret, but apparently, he and his girlfriend broke up and he wants to put some distance between them. It makes sense for him to move to his best friend's side, right?”

“Oh, Lemillion is hot! And he makes even more money than Suneater because he knows how to talk to people. I’ll keep an eye on the books. We have to look our best when he comes in.”

Someone’s phone chimes and shortly after that, silence falls over the room.

You’re still catching your breath, reeling from all the revelations and your heart’s reaction to it.

If you react like this to the mere mention of Amajiki dating, Kyoko is right. You need to get some distance between the two of you.

And while you don’t know how much of the other gossip you should believe, there’s a point there that you cannot deny.

Lemillion is Amajiki’s best friend. If he broke up with his girlfriend, it would make sense for him to come back, and claim his old room again. You wouldn’t put it against him to want the comfort. But you’re in the way of said comfort.

You know what you must do.

7 months as his assistant

Finding an apartment isn’t easy, even when you’re not picky.

You know you can’t move back to where you came from. There is no argument that Amajiki or Kirishima would believe, no reason for you to go back to that. You earn nowhere near enough to be able to afford an apartment in the district you’re living in right now, so you search a bit further away from the agency.

With your portion of the rent being so low and Amajiki constantly demanding to pay when you go out for lunch, you’ve saved up quite a bit, but you cannot use that to pay for your rent. So you widen your search parameter even more.

When you find one apartment that’s actually feasible, it comes with a one-hour drive and the last train leaves at six. To make that, you’d have to leave early every day and while you know Fatgum won’t mind that once or twice, you can’t ask for a favor like that.

So you swallow all your pride and stop Kirishima the next time you see him.

“Hey, I… kinda need your help.”

“Oh? Sure, what do you need?”

“I…” You pull him to the side, away from possible prying ears and eyes. “I need to look for a new apartment.”

“What?” Kirishima blinks in surprise. “Why?”

“That’s… a difficult story. But do you… know, someone? Like from your class or even younger, who could need a roommate? I don’t mind cleaning and cooking if I can save on rent.”

“Sure, I mean, I know Shoji is looking for a roommate right now. But are you sure? What about Amajiki?”

“He’s fine.” You insist. “I don’t want to bother him any longer.”

“Bother… him?” Something seems to click in Kirishima’s mind, but whatever it is, it clicked the wrong way.

“I’ll talk to him.” He insists, his voice way too determined.

“What? No, Kirishima, that’s not-”

“I thought he was a good guy.” He’s not listening to you, arms hardened as he moves past you. Your grip just slips off and all you can do is run after him.

You find Amajiki in his office, alone, thank god.

“Amajiki!” Kirishima’s voice booms through the room and you throw the door closed in the hopes of avoiding a scandal.

“Keep your voice down.” You tell him, but he won’t listen.

Amajiki looks confused. Not scared, which you’re thankful for, but confused. And you can understand that. You’re confused as well.

“What’s going on, Kirishima?”

“How can you treat her that way?!” Kirishima asks, pointing at you. You blink back.

“What are you talking about?” You ask, face burning as Amajiki look over, worry evident in his eyes.

“When you started dating, I told you that if you hurt her, I’ll make sure you hurt even more. Kicking her out? That’s hurting her.”

“What the-” You start, but stop when Kirishima lunges over Amajiki’s desk.

“ENOUGH!” You yell, and to your surprise, Kirishima freezes for the first time since he’s started down this path of whatever he’s trying to achieve.

“WHAT?” He asks, clearly unhappy about your interruption.

“We are not dating!” You point out. “And even if we were, you have no right to play big brother.”

“We’re… not… dating?” Amajiki’s voice is low and quiet, but it still manages to cut through the tense atmosphere like a butcher’s knife.

It’s your turn to freeze, to have trouble breathing.

Amajiki looks confused, Kirishima looks confused and well, you’re not sure what you’re looking like, but you definitely feel confused.

“I-” You start. “What?”

“Well, my bad.” Kirishima holds up his hand defensively, waves them around as he chuckles awkwardly. “I’ll… I guess I’ll let you two talk this out. If you need me, I’ll be back at my desk and… uh, if you need Shoji’s info, let me know.” He backs out of the room with a tense smile on his face, leaving you and Amajiki to stare at each other.

Well, you stare at each other’s bodies, avoiding eye-contact, but you’re used to that by now.

In the end it's the realization that avoiding eye contact might have gotten you into this mess that has you look straight at him. He’s blushing and you feel a little sorry, but you need to make sense of this situation.

“Amajiki?” You ask, voice soft. “Can you tell me why you thought we were dating? I won't be mad, I promise.”

He shrugs and looks down at his shoes. You wait, well aware that he probably needs a few moments to gather himself.

“Washio-san said you liked me too.” He starts, confusing you even more. Washio-san? Wait, you liked him too?

But before you can ask, he speaks on.

“She said that I should make sure to give you enough attention. And… and that girls like gifts. So I got you stuff, you know.”

“Oh my god.” You whisper, realizing that he's referring to the little trinkets he’d brought in ever since you started working for him.

Wait, if Washio-san was aware-

“Does… does Fatgum know?

“Of course.” Oh my god. “I told him… when you reciprocated.”

You're left stunned and he adds softly: “You brought me that pebble.”

“But we never… I mean, we didn't…” You press your hands together for a lack of words. He seems to understand nonetheless, flushing profusely.

“Mirio said… he said… well, I asked and he… not everyone liked doing… that… I thought you were not into it. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Oh. My. God.”

Silence falls over the room as you process things.

By the time you come back to reality - your stomach rather forcefully reminds you that you haven't eaten yet, your lunch break wasted on… more pressing matters - Amajiki has drawn into himself. He's sitting at his desk, seemingly occupied by a file, but you can tell he's not reading.

You swallow your nerves and get up, walk over to his desk until you are right next to him. You push your back into the desk but instead of facing him directly, you focus on the tip of his left ear. It's flushed, the bright red a stark contrast to his dark hair.

“I have had a crush on you for ages.” You confess, forcing your voice to stay calm. “I didn't want to ask for the role as your assistant because in the end, you need to be comfortable with who you are working with, but I was hoping I would get it. Kirishima and I celebrated when I got the job, he might have… he might have told you.” You swallow thickly.

“I don't know if boy crushes are the same but girls… we tend to think that we’re not good enough. It paints everything in a different light. You ask me out on a date and I think you can’t possibly mean that, that you want to be just friends.”

He’s stiff as a board, but he doesn't speak up, so you continue. He told you his side of the story, so you owe him as much.

“If you're still up for it… I’d love to date you. For real this time.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, voice the tiniest bit wobbly.

“Absolutely.” You nod to emphasize your point and slide your hand across the table until it knocks into his. “And I do like… to do… that.” His hand grips yours, warm and strong, fits around yours like it was meant for that.

Your heart beats loudly in your ears as you lean in, waiting for him to stop you but he doesn't. Your temple touches his, warm skin against warm skin. His eyes are wide open, his skin is flushed. You don't kiss, don't need to. It's enough for now to share your breath, share the warmth and the knowledge of your feelings.

“I really, really like you.” You point out, exhilarated when his lips pull into a smile that can only be described as giddy.

9 months as his assistant/girlfriend

The bed is way too warm to leave it, even though your bladder insists on doing just that.

Tamaki is spooning you, his face hidden against your shoulder blades, his messy bed head tickling your skin.

You drag your fingers across the arm that's holding you close. It's the softest of touches, barely enough to register in Tamaki's sleepy brain. But it works and his grip goes slack. You roll out of it, hand already in his hair when the absence of your warmth has him pout, even deeply asleep as he is now. He curls into himself in a matter of seconds, pout still on his face even as he starts snoring.

The shirt he wore yesterday still hangs on his desk chair and you slip into it. You don't want to give your new roommate nightmares.

When you step out of the bathroom, you're welcomed by the clattering of dishes and the smell of fresh waffles.

"Morning." You greet Shoji, who nods back.

He moved in two weeks ago when it became clear that he couldn't find a roommate and Tamaki wouldn't let you sleep in your own bed anyway. He insisted on sound proofing both bed rooms before moving in, but he's a quiet and friendly guy and you definitely do not mind his expertise in the kitchen.

"I have patrol today." Shoji points out minutes later, putting the waffles on three plates while you pour coffee into cups and do your best in putting the blueberries on the plates instead of into your mouth. "I'll be home late."

"Okay. I'm making curry tonight, I'll put your portion to the side."

He nods and smiles, before muttering: "Amajiki just woke up."

"How did you hear-" You start before you can see it too. Tentacles crawl over the floor, their movement sluggish but their goal clear.

You barely manage to jump to the side and put the coffee pot away before one snatches your legs and pulls.

"Good grief, Tamaki! I'm holding coffee!"

"Come back to bed!" You can barely make out his whining, but you know him by now, have learned quite a bit in the past two months.

There's nothing quite as unfiltered as Tamaki when he's barely awake.

And there's nothing quite as needy as him when he wakes up without you by his side.

"See you." Shoji puts your plates and coffee cups on a serving tray and holds it out for you. You're still struggling with the tentacles wrapped around your bare legs.

"Pull your tentacles back or I'll drink my coffee without you." You try to sound like you mean it, but you've always been an awful actress.

When you get back to the room, Tamaki's spread out on the bed, the arm that produced the tentacles reaching toward the door.

"I don't like waking up without you." He complains as he gets rid of the tentacles. You put the tray on his nightstand and slip into bed, press your now cold toes against his warm legs.

"Like you're already awake." You tease and he grumbles and mumbles, hides his face in your neck. He's on his best way to fall asleep again.

Just as you feel his body going slack, Tamaki moves again. He wakes like a cat, you learned, his nose often awake before the rest of his body follows. Or, like this time, his nose is not willing to go to sleep again.

“Waffles?” He asks, eyes closed. “Blueberries?”

“And some apple and pear slices.” You point out, kiss the side of his mouth when he tries to move past you to get to the good stuff. His lips pull into a lazy smile and he cuddles back into you, heavy and warm and oh so relaxed.

“Feed me?” He asks.

You snort but press a warm piece of waffle against his lips, only to kiss the leftover syrup off his lips.

“I could get used to that,” you mumble and he nods and hums and pulls you closer, always closer.

“Please do.”

...

Half an hour later, when the coffee has trickled into his system and his anxiety is awake again, he's hiding his face against your neck for a different reason.

"I can never show my face again." He insists. "That was so embarassing. What did Shoji think of me, using my quirk for personal gain?!"

"I think he found it funny."

My Kofi if you want to tip me

#my writing #mha x reader #mha fluff #tamaki amajiki #tamaki amajiki x reader #amajiki x reader #amajiki fluff #suneater fluff #suneater x reader #kirishima #Lemillion

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targaryenluvs · 5 months

Note

ok ok but imagine dark!gimmick somehow falls in love with capitol!reader (a client of his) but she doesn’t want him unless she’s paying for him or wanna love him back so he does everything in his power to have her, threatens to share the secrets she told him that will probably have her hanged and so with that they live happily ever after 😆

UNREQUITED

pairing: dark!finnick odair x fem!capitol!reader

summary: you’d divulged one to many secrets to your favourite victor and he wasn’t afraid of using them against you. karmas a bitch!

warning: blackmail, prostitution mentions/insinuations, nc sex and pillowtalk??

a/n: bros getting revenge or som

the first time you saw him you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. you’d heard of people being able to visit victors away from prying eyes and the idea seemed boring until you remembered he existed. so why not take advantage of your station?

finnick was hoping for one night of reprieve but of course, he had someone to visit.

the card in his hand felt heavy and as he unlocked the room he stopped in his tracks. you were sitting on the bed with a flute of champagne in your hands. you were gorgeous, and for once he felt okay with it.

“finnick?” your voice was like music to his ears as he came closer. he nodded and you pressed your lips into a tight line, “it’s nice to meet you.” nice to meet you? are you stupid? god you had no clue what to say since you were literally forcing this man to be with you.

“so.” he laughed, “so.” he took the flute away from you before getting you standing, “where do you want me sweetheart?” you smiled.

and all the previous tension faded away throughout the night, finnick was amazing.

it had been months since your first time together and you’d only grown more comfortable with eachother. you liked him, he was nice. and he was obsessed with you. every time he saw you he knew what would be happening the following night and he could hardly wait. with you he took his time and focused on you the whole time, he loved trying new things with you, making you scream.

and afterwards you’d sit and cuddle, and at times even kiss. he was a nice stress relief for you, he always listened to your concerns and problems. your arranged boyfriend, the politician, and his like for younger men. his affinity for dipping his hand into the company savings, even though you were well off. your brothers and their mistresses, your parents and their expectations.

finnick listened intently, gave advice and was actually helpful. you were grateful to be able to get it off his chest. but finnick wasn’t going to let you go.

“i think we’re getting engaged soon.” finnick shut his eyes to calm himself down, it didn’t work. “no you’re not honey.” you cocked your head to his side, “what do you mean?” he smiled and it was so fake, “you’re meant to be with me, y/n. and you will be with me. do you know how much you’ve told me? about him, your friends and family?”

your eyes widened as you got up, covering yourself with the sheet. “i’ve already seen you, all of you there’s no reason to hide.” he pulled the sheet away as you covered yourself with your arms, “i’ve had enough of you finnick. get. out.” you enunciated before crawling away. he grabbed your ankle and pulled you back to him.

“i told you you’re not going anywhere. do you want me to let it all out? let everyone know every, single, dirty secret y/n?” your eyes welled up as you threw your head to the side, not wanting to look at him, “please finnick, just let me go.” you felt his chest vibrate as he chuckled. his fingers dug into your face, forcing you to look at him.

“say you’re mine and i’ll let them go.” you shook your head, thrashing against him to get away. his other hand bruised your hip with an iron grip. “fine!” his smile was sickly sweet as he began to kiss his way down, on the insides of your thighs as his strong hands held you down whilst you began to buck your hips up. “please finnick.” he looked up at you from between your legs and grinned.

“now you’re not so bossy huh?”

he had what he wanted and you were sure he wouldn’t let you go.

#kira and anon chat <3 #hunger games x reader #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #dark!finnick odair x fem!reader #yandere finnick odair #yandere!finnick odair x reader

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lilacs-and-vanilla · 11 months

Text

@shslsimpette commented on a different Spot post that they want an N$FW alphabet for the Spot 😈

Honestly I was thinking of making one of these because they seem very thorough. Great way to make a guideline for smut writing.

First one I’ve done before, and it was hard to get all of the words for the funky letters like Q and X. But anyways…

(god this took so long…)

N$FW Alphabet for The Spot/Johnathan Ohnn

All of the writing beyond this point is smutty

A - How good is he at aftercare?

He’s very doting.

“Did that feel good?” “Are you alright?” “Do you need anything?” “Let me get you some water.” “Do you want to rinse off?”

If you decide you want a bath, he will use his portals to (haphazardly) run you one so he doesn’t have to leave your side.

Cuddles and pillows and blankets galore, trying his best to make you comfortable.

B - What’s his favorite body part on you?

He likes looking at your face, studying your features and committing them to memory. Especially your eyes.

It completely stumps the both of you as to how he can perceive things like sight, scent, and sound without normal features like a nose or eyes or ears, but you won’t question it.

He doesn’t mean to stare, he really doesn’t. You can always tell when he is though, because the his face portal swirls in a different kind of way. What an interesting way to read someone.

He just likes your eyes, your freckles, your birthmarks, your scars, the features that set you apart from everyone else and makes you you.

The fact that he’s missing his own face adds to this little obsession. He misses his old body, but that doesn’t mean he can’t love you for yours.

It’s not entirely sexual, but he does like watching the way your face looks when you’re.. ahem. Enjoying yourself.

The way your eyes roll back, or the way your mouth hangs open, the drool and the tears. He loves all of it and he loves that he’s the one making you look that way.

C - Cum. Anything to do with that particular liquid.

He doesn’t excrete normal bodily fluids like saliva or semen. At least not anymore. Anything that comes out of him is dark and oozy.

If he’s overstimulated, all of his holes will start leaking. It can get a bit messy, especially on the sheets. Thank goodness it doesn’t stain fabric or skin…

He gets very embarrassed whenever he starts leaking (or sees it leaking out of you).

D - What’s his dirty secret?

He won’t admit it, but he’s stolen a few pieces of your clothing.

It’s proven that he can eat through the hole on his face and taste and sense spice. So I want to assume that he can also smell.

He likes to hold your clothes or your sheets over the hole in his face while he touches himself, sometimes even slipping some of the fabric in to get a taste.

But there was one time he got a little too carried away and now one of your favorite hoodies that you thought you lost is floating around in dark matter space somewhere.

He’s too ashamed to tell you.

E - Experience. How much does he have?

None. None whatsoever. At least not any hands on experience with partners other than you.

He’s seen enough p0rn (the good stuff, none of that over dramatic acting crap) to know what’s good or not. He knows what to look for, signs your close or if you’re uncomfortable.

In typical scientist fashion, he has his strategies and, in theory, he could easily keep you on the edge for as long as he wants or absolutely wreck you.

He just hasn’t mustered up the courage to put his plans into action though…

F - What’s his favorite position?

Ride him. Ride him. He likes seeing you on top of him.

He’s very vanilla when it comes to this. He doesn’t want you to twist or bend in uncomfortable positions.

But with that power of his, the ability to stick a limb through one hole and make it appear somewhere else? What else could he do…?

G - Goof or aloof? His general attitude.

He’s a goof. A whole nerd. What else would you expect of a scientist?

The only time he’s not is when he’s brooding, focused on revenge, on proving himself.

He wants to prove he’s not just some “Villain of the Week.” He wants to prove to you that he’s all you need.

H - Hair. How much does he have? Is he well groomed?

The poor man misses his hair, so he lives vicariously through yours.

He’s not particularly into hair pulling. He does enjoy this though:

Your head leaned back against a pillow on top of his fist as he grips the back of your head, holding it in place as he… (insert smexy scene that I can’t put into proper words right now).

When you’re both finished he likes to run his fingers through it, play with it, braid it, just touch it in general.

I - Intimacy. How is he in romantic aspect?

He tries to be romantic, and sometimes it works. Other times it comes off cheesy. That just makes you love him more though.

He’s a bit traditional. Flowers, candle light, cute little picturesque date night set ups (away from onlookers, obviously)

Secluded spots around the city like rooftops or museums and restaurants after they close.

And when you tell him it’s goofy shit like this that makes you want to absolutely destroy him in the bedroom, date night is normally cut a little short.

J - Does he jerk off?

He prefers to do it with you, but if he’s alone he’ll make do with his hands.

K - What are his kinks?

Edging. Edge him until all of his holes are leaking black ooze (call me weird, I have a vision). Edge him until he whines and cries and begs to cum.

Degrade him, but in a nice way. He won’t let anyone do it but you. Don’t call him pathetic. Don’t make him feel bad about himself. Make him feel like you’re in control. Like he can let himself go.

L - Location. What’s his favorite place to do it?

He’s down to do it anywhere as long as no one else is around.

And he can really go anywhere. Anywhere in your dimension or any other. Pick a spot, and he’ll take you there.

M - Motivation. What turns him on?

The edges of his holes are sensitive. If you touch the place where spot meets skin, he’ll squirm.

It feels like a tingle to him. A localized one.

Run your fingers along the inside of a hole on his palm and the feeling will shoot up his forearm. Do it on his stomach or his thighs or god forbid between his legs when his cock isn’t in use (he keeps it somewhere), and you’ll work him up real quick.

N - No, absolutely not. What turns him off? Something he won’t do?

He won’t participate in exhibitionism. He wants to be the only one to see you come undone. It’s all because of him after all. He should be the only one to witness it.

O - Oral. How does he feel about it? Giving? Receiving?

Seeing as though he doesn’t have a mouth anymore, he can’t eat you out. But he really, really wishes he could.

He was reluctant to let you put himself in your mouth, seeing as though he wasn’t sure if his strange ooze could be safely digested.

You were confident though, insistent you wanted it.

P - Pace. Fast and rough or slow and gentle?

It depends on how he feels.

If he’s feeling intimate and romantic, laid back, he’ll take things slow.

If he’s trying in that state of mind where he’s trying to prove himself to you, he will give it all he’s got to the point where he wears himself out.

Q - Quickies. How does he feel about them?

If you work him up in public, he will find somewhere in an alley or rooftop to bang one out. To bang you.

R - Does he take risks?

What’s a good villain without a few risks? And he wants to be a good villain. He just doesn’t think that applies to the bedroom.

There was the time he got a bit carried away, and in the middle of a particularly intense love making session, one of his portals opened involuntarily.

You immediately recognized your apartment building’s elevator. The mirrored walls, the carpet, the sliding doors closing behind a neighbor as they were leaving.

He apologized profusely and said he’d close it, but you told him to keep it open and he was too riled up to stop now. He was so close. Maybe just one more minute…

It was a sick, nerve-racking game of elevator roulette.

S - Stamina. How many rounds will he last?

He can last maybe two or three rounds when he’s on top. If you want more, you’ll have to take over, climbing on top of him and pressing him into the bed as you pull more out of him.

T - Toys. Does he use them? On you? On himself?

He’s a big fan of vibes. Whether it’s something that goes inside either you or him or something that slides around his cock.

Anything that gives off that extra little buzzy feeling.

He doesn’t like fleshlights. He’d rather be inside you.

U - “Unfair!” How does he feel about teasing? Giving? Receiving?

He’s absolute shit at dishing it out. He gets too flustered to tease you, even when he’s on top.

He’s also the “don’t bully me, I’ll cum” type. Tease him, degrade him (but be kind), call him your little cum puppy (Dalmatian comment reference?) and he will pass away.

V - How vocal is he? What sounds does he make?

Johnathan has a tendency to ramble during love making. One moment he’s drilling you or getting drilled by you, and the next he’s telling you fun facts about whatever comes to mind.

He doesn’t do it on purpose. His brain simply short circuits at some point. He goes with what he knows.

(Why don’t you turn it into a game? See how many facts he can name about a specific subject before he cums…)

In general, he’s very whiny. That coupled with all of the begging creates a perfect symphony.

Exhibit A: “Ohh fuck! Ah, youfeelsssoosogood.. please, (Y/N) please. m’ so close, please. don’t stop dontstopp aaahhn~”

W - Wild card. A miscellaneous headcanon.

As a part of the monster fucker fandom, of course anything that doesn’t have a standard cock has a tentacle one.

Anyways. Portal cock…

Enough said.

X - X Marks the Spot (kms for this joke). His favorite place to be touched.

Anywhere! He just wants you to touch him.

So many people think he’s scary or creepy. When you touch him, all of that goes away.

Y - Yearning. How high is his sex drive?

He’s not insane about it to the point where he constantly craves sex but when he gets in the mood he can be very needy.

Z - ZZZ… how long does it take to fall asleep after the deed is done?

If he’s been thoroughly fucked beyond his limit, he will pass out almost immediately after (after cuddling up beside you and making sure you’re comfortable)

Feel free to ask for different characters to write these for! (but maybe limit it to 4 or 5 letters…)

#spider man across the spider verse #the spot #the spot x reader #i want him inside me #or i want to be inside him #me when #when he #when #portal cock

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georgiapeach30513 · 8 months

Text

Kinktober 2023, Day 2

Just Pull The Trigger

Summary: Steve was obsessed. He came into our flower shop weekly. Changing that to daily quickly. Bucky watches. Neither of you were making your move, and it sickened him. it was time for him to intervene.

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, kidnapping, guns, unprotected sex, PIV sex, breeding kink, creampie, voyeurism, mind control, Russian roulette, conspiracy, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2.3K

Series Masterlist

“Hey,” you hear your employee, Hilary’s, voice going up an octave, and that only means one thing. You peek your head around the corner, and there he is. He was the most handsome man you had ever laid your eyes on.

Tall, broad shoulders, there is this manliness that makes you weak in the knees. But his best feature was his smile. Steve had been coming into the flower shop way too regularly recently. Hilary loved mentioning it was your “assets” that kept him coming. But you told yourself it was mostly likely a girlfriend that loved flowers.

“What do you have fresh for today?” He asks, bashfully looking down at your counter.

“Well, we’ve got a wide range of tulips today,” his soft blue eyes look up at you, and you look quickly at the counter.

“What…what’s your favorite color of tulip?” He lifts his hand up to the counter, and you audibly whimper.

Bucky purses his lips as he focuses on the two of you. Every day. Every fucking day it was this song and dance. He’d ask you for fresh flowers. There was an awkward exchange about colors, and you always bite your lips, and make a noise. Your fingers always make the same tapping pattern. And yet you two bozos weren’t picking up on how badly you wanted to sink into one another.

If the two of you ever did have sex you would probably both have a heart attack from the build up. You two were tragic. He couldn’t sit by watching this idly happen. You seemed sweet enough. Owned a damn flower shop. You are perfect for Steve, but for whatever reason the two of you were dropping the ball!

Bucky didn’t understand. Couldn’t comprehend how his best friend just couldn’t ask you on a date. Judging by the nervous ticks you got when Steve was around, you were just as nervous, and wanted it just as much.

The ticks and the odd breathing annoyed Bucky, but Steve loved them. Wouldn’t shut up about them. Searching your name didn’t have any information either. You had to be just awkward, and untrusting. Your eyes look at Bucky nervously, and he turns around.

Bucky had to do something. He couldn’t go another day watching this pathetic encounter. He would help both of you out. It’s what friends are for. Even if it's extreme.

——

Your eyes jolt open, and you tug at your extended arms that are tied above your head to no avail. Lip trembling as you look around in this dark and damp place. Breathe. Slow down. What was the last thing you remember?

Bedtime. A noise. Grab the gun. Blackness. Someone was faster than you. Someone was quiet, and got to you. Someone had no idea what you were capable of, and still was able to get one over on you.

“Fuck,” you sigh. Not again. You swore this would never happen again. You assured yourself that you would not be in this position ever again. And now you’re trapped. Tied up. And had absolutely no idea where you are.

This is a bunch of horse shit. Look around. There was always a way out. They always made a mistake, and they allowed you an escape. You killed your ex, so you know he wasn’t out for revenge. But what were the odds of you being held captive again? Strung up and ready to devour.

Your eyes adjust to the darkness, and you give your arms a tug. Idiot. Whatever asshole tied you up didn’t know what the hell he was doing. Loose enough to wiggle one hand out. Clenching your teeth, you slowly, and painfully pull out one hand, and set to work on the other.

Heaving and crying once you’re free. Your hands weren’t pretty, but no one would ever hold you captive again. Finally looking around your whereabouts. You’d get to that breathing lump on the floor shortly. A way out was first.

Seeing a flight of stairs, you climb up it, and want to curse. This was why he didn’t care about how he tied you up. Soundproof. Automatic locks. But you are loose now. You wonder if there’s a camera watching you to know.

And then your hand finds something that could be of use. Stuffing it in your back pocket, you wander over to the lump. It was gigantic. This could be your captor, or it could be of use. You had a secret that the lump didn’t know about.

Hesitantly you give it a little kick, and the groan has you leaning over, and trying to locate his beautiful face. You obsessively knew that voice anywhere, “Steve? Steve, wake up!”

“Rosie?” He seethes as he sits up, looking around the dark room. “Rosie, are you bleeding?”

“Yeah, my name isn’t really Rosie though,” he wasn’t tied up. He was just thrown in here. Probably because he was too big.

“What? Wait, what is your name?” You give him your real name, and he leans back away from you. “What is going on?”

“My ex — he was…he was a bad man. Held me captive in a place very similar to this. I was able to get free because — well, I killed him. He had some powerful friends that wanted someone to pay. And…I moved, changed my name, my profession. And…”

“What was your profession?” Steve’s eyes flit back and forth over your face. You had wanted to leave that life alone. Be done with that life forever. It was done, and you couldn’t go back. But somehow they found you.

“I was a hired hit man for the cartel. Ugh,” you sit down with a sigh. “This time, they’re smarter. And I just wanted to live a normal life, ya know? Bring some good into the world. And this amazing guy walked into my life, but I was too in my own head to get his number or even have a one night stand.”

“And…who,” Steve looks down at his lap, trying to find the words to say, but he is coming up short. You had been thinking of someone else. He knew he should have just asked. Should have been honest, and now the chance was gone.

“You, you idiot,” no wonder he didn’t act on anything. He had no clue. You wore your cute clothes, and undid the buttons to show off your chest. He made you sweat and nervous. How did he not not?

“What?” His voice squeaks a sigh while he looks at you. Eyes wide in disbelief. “You want to have sex with me?”

“Among other things. I got this romantic idea that we’d go on a date. But then every time you came in with your veiny hands on the counter, I had to tap things because I seriously wanted to jerk you on the counter, and crawl on top of you.”

His eyes narrow as he looks you up and down. Bucky was right. You did have filthy little fantasies rolling around in your head about him. What Bucky was wrong about was how dangerous you really could be. Neither of them saw that coming. “You’re being very open.”

“I get horny when I have no control of a situation. It’s this weird thing. We’re stuck in a basement with a great door, and I am in your lap, and your cock is so fucking hard. And you’re telling me I’m being open? Your dick is telling on you.”

“And what are you going to do about it?” His brow arches up, and you look back at the door. “I think we have time. Do you think you could think clearer if you fucked me? Would you have all this nervous energy then?”

You aren’t sure where the shy Steve had gone, and you didn’t care. It was probably just because he feels like this was the end of the line for him. It wouldn’t be. You’d get both of you out of this mess, but a little fun never hurt anyone. You’d just keep your secret close by.

“This will have to be quick. We gotta find a way out,” you pull off your shirt, and Steve gawks at your bare chest. “Steve, undress. We don’t have time for sweet,” you pull your tits out of your bra, tucking the material under their swells before wiggling out of your jeans.

He scrambles to get himself undressed, nearly falling as he stands to get his pants down, “Leave the underwear on. We can run like that.”

“You act like you’ve…” you shoot him an angry glance over him. “Right. I’m sorry, you have done this before. Oh good lord,” he moans. You push at his chest, wanting him to sit down before straddling his legs.

Moving aside your panties as you lower yourself over him. “Ahh,” he whimpers when your hand circles the base of his cock, running it through your slick. You sick fuck. Why did fear always get you aroused? You’d missed this danger and excitement.

Stopping your movements, you hold him steady as you slowly sink over him. Going cross eyed at the stretch, and wanting to curse this situation for not being able to take your time. Going far too fast to feel him divide your walls. He sits frozen when you take every inch of his glorious cock. Whining when you take him balls deep.

Having to slap him a tiny bit, “Steve, breathe, baby. Are you a virgin?”

“Mhmm,” he manages to get out, shaking his head with his response. “I-I-I-I wanted this for so long.”

“You could have had it,” your voice whines as you lift yourself off him. Dropping back down quickly so you can feel the tight pound into you. “You could have had this every night,” repeating the process, but this time faster. “Every day. Whenever you wanted. The shop is a cover.”

“Yeah,” he is in a trance. Didn’t care about a damn thing you had to say. “Yeah. Always. Always. Mine. Mine.”

You lean your head back, getting into the rhythm as your body swallows him whole. It was natural. Like you were made for Steve. Nothing could ever compare to this feeling. A familiarity to it. “Just like that,” he growls on you, but you are oblivious.

“Take it all,” you are. Taking all of it. “Fill you up,” he is filling you up so well. Perfect. Amazing. Glorious. “Breed you for the cause.”

“Yeah. Yeah! Fuck yeah!” You scream out as you race for your finish.

“Just like you were made to do!”

“Fuuuck!” You scream out, and Steve’s hand circles around your throat. A rush of endorphins and euphoria moves to every bone.

“Well, that took long enough,” your eyes burst open. Silvery blue eyes in the shadow make you want to retreat. “Hail Hydra and all. Stevie, don’t let her move, Captain.”

“You son of a bitch! I killed you!”

“No, you shot me. Hydra heeled me. Now, beg your soldier to fuck you,” you hated him. Flashes of memories of all the people you had killed move through your mind, and you slap your hand on your head. “They’re not going anywhere, sweetheart. You’re Hydra, too. They just had more use for you than just a cumdump. We gotta let that cum marinate, and then it’s my turn. We’re not letting you go until you’re swollen with one of us. Get used to being used.”

This is cruel. Steve felt so good, and you didn’t even recognize him without his muzzle. How could you forget those eyes? Still connected, and leaking his cum, but you had a secret. The soldier was an idiot.

“But I know something you don’t know,” you tease the soldier a bit. It’s a shame he’s as beautiful as he is. Because he is cruel, and you hated being their breeding bunny.

“Oh?” Bucky smiles, looking at your tits more than you. His eyes return back to yours, and you gently reach over to your pants. Thankfully kept this from Steve, too. “What do you know?”

Grabbing up the pistol, you point it at Steve’s head, and he drops his hand from around your neck. Holding up his hands in surrender as you remove himself from you. Whimpering at the loss of him. Ignoring his seed that was seeping out on your leg.

Moving the gun between the two of them as you back away. “You’re still forgetting something yourself, Viper. Who dies?” The soldier kicks Steve’s pants towards him, keeping his soulless eyes on you.

Both men start stalking towards you. Who? Who dies? Who to choose. You take a breath, and take it deep. Calm yourself. It was an easy choice. They give you an evil grin.

“One,” you whisper. Sweat beads along your hairline. Moving slowly towards the stairs.

“Two,�� you shouldn’t have any time to think. There was only one option.

“Three,” it was your turn. You wouldn’t be held captive again. You turn the gun to your own head. Pulling the trigger.

Click.

They can see your heart beating through your chest, as you sink to your knees. “Did you really think we’d be dumb enough to leave a loaded gun for you to get,” your lip trembles as the soldier gets right in your face. “Welcome home, honey.”

“Soldier, tie her up. Give her a chance to realize how amazing she is. She was willing to die. Now she’s reborn. It won’t take much for her brain to get scrambled again," Steve chuckles from behind Bucky. And so the cycle begins again.

It didn’t work. It never did. But you would escape. And you would run. One of these times they wouldn’t catch back up to you.

One day.

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @missusbarnes-rogers @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @floral-recs @buckybarnesisdaddy @magnificentsaladllama

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fics #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #chris evans #chris evans character

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sanjoongie · 6 months

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𝚨 ꓝ୦𝜊￨ ꭵ𝗇 𝐋𝜊ꮩ𝒆

🤎A/N: Kicking off this month of revenge since it's Scorpio season is this beauty. Sometimes you just gotta torture you bestie @mejuii with her own professed weaknesses 😘 🤎Pairing: Lee Juyeon (The Boyz) x Reader (f) 🤎Au: Model au, Stylist au 🤎Genre: smut, angst 🤎Trope: unrequited love, oblivious to love 🤎Warnings: reader is mean to Juyeon (think tsundere), sub!juyeon, dom!reader, verbal instruction, oral (f), hair pulling (m), praise kink, hand kink 🤎Rated: 18+, MDNI 🤎Word Count: 1,727 🤎Summary: Juyeon is in love with you, his stylist, who degrades him at any chance she can get. But little did you know... all he wants you to do is order him around

🤎credit to @cafekitsune for the banner!

“Juyeon, you better stop looking at her like that, she’s going to bite your head off,” Sunwoo nudged the older man.

Juyeon sighed heavily. If only his stylist felt the same way about him as he felt about her. He watched as Sunwoo ran-walked to you and smiled happily as you fussed over his hair and makeup. Sunwoo gratuitously pushed his lips out as you rubbed some lip stain on his lips and you smacked his chest for leaning in too close. Sunwoo could afford to be playful with you but you would never let Juyeon act up like that. Where was the fairness in that?

Juyeon had a massive crush on you. Maybe he was stupid. Maybe he was attracted to the idea of a slightly toxic relationship. Maybe he really liked the twinkle in your eye you got when you talked to Sunwoo. Whatever it was, Juyeon wanted you to look at him like you looked at his model partner. But that never seemed to be a reality for Juyeon.

“Juyeon!” You barked for the model to come over and get inspected before they went back to shooting.

Juyeon’s long legs took him to your side pretty quickly. His effortless brain-empty grin pulled on his face as you took the handle end of a comb and moved some strands of his bangs. Your eyes were focused on the task at hand but you were chewing on your lip and Juyeon’s heart exploded. What he wouldn’t give to press his lips to yours, for you to giggle, and let him sweep you off your--

“Helloooo?” You snapped your fingers in front of Juyeon’s face. “Earth to Juyeon? I said I’m done.”

Juyeon moved to where Sunwoo was lounging on the set, fighting everything to not send a hurt look over his shoulder. Juyeon already knew you would give him a look as if he was a child and he’d regret it.

Sunwoo was cackling by the time Juyeon joined him. “You look like a dog with his tail between his legs.”

The next time Juyeon saw you was at his red carpet event with Fendi. You had walked into the room where Juyeon was preparing. What you had not expected was to walk in on that man in slacks and a silk top that draped on his form. His blazer was still hanging on the rack as he waited for you to do hair and makeup.

You stood there with your jaw on the floor until you managed to school your features before Juyeon turned around. Except it didn’t get better. Juyeon’s dark eyes looked down at you as you formulated a plan for his look.

“Sit in the chair so I don’t have to crane my damn neck and break it,” You barked.

Juyeon easily slid in the stylist chair, eyes still on you. “Do you like the top?” He asked. His big fingers rubbed the chain between the pads of his fingers.

“That’s none of my business,” You replied in a clipped tone and Juyeon’s face fell.

“Looks stupid, doesn’t it,” Juyeon lamented, “I knew it.”

“I--” Your mouth snapped shut. You hadn't actually intended to make Juyeon feel bad about his look, you just didn’t want to feed his ego… “It’s beautiful,” You said quietly.

Juyeon’s head snapped up, eyes meeting your own again. “Really?” he said, that casual, happy smile was on his lips again.

“The top,” You clarified, “With the blazer over it, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Juyeon let you do his makeup and then his hair in silence. You had to straddle his feet and legs a bit to style his hair and you froze when you felt one of his hands cup the back of your thigh to steady you. Fuck, his hands were huge.

“Juyeon,” You said, “Why is your hand on me?”

“You looked like you were going to tip over,” He said, somewhat innocently, but you could see the look in his eyes. Instead of the empty-head appearance, his eyes were sharper right now.

“Get them off,” You said in a clipped tone.

“Why?” Juyeon asked, putting his other hand on your opposite leg, “Do they bother you?”

“They do,” You said in a reserved tone, “Now get them off of me.”

“And why do they bother you?” Juyeon pushed.

You couldn't very well tell him that your entire body wanted his hands to cup your ass too, and kneed your cheeks, perhaps splitting them open as he thrust--You shook your head. Nooooo, that was not happening. “Because I need to move freely and you’re stopping that. Now. Let. Go.”

Juyeon did and you felt the tinge of regret and stuff it down; far, far down. And when you told him you were done, Juyeon stood up and you stumbled back to avoid touching him--which caused him to reach out and grab your upper arms. Would his entire hand grip harshly onto your arm as he thrusted into you or would he be soft and rub your arms as you--?

"Juyeon," You said in a sickly-sweet voice, "what are you doing?"

“You almost smashed your head on the glass!” Juyeon protested, eyebrows furrowing cutely.

“Remove your hands or I’ll knock you into your next life,” You threatened.

Juyeon looked so dejected as his hands left your body that you felt that stupid tinge of regret again that you thought you had buried. “You sure do listen well, for a man,” You found yourself admitting as you finally stepped away from the chair.

“I could listen real good for you,” Juyeon said.

You froze in disbelief. You turned around slowly. Juyeon met your eyes. “What did you say?”

“You reward Sunwoo for his bad behavior, but I could be really good for you. I would only do what you say I could do. I’d crawl for you if you ordered it. Wear a collar and leash for you, please--”

You threw your hands up to stop whatever was coming out of Juyeon’s mouth. It was…it was too tantalizing. “No, nope, stop that right now.”

“But--!” Juyeon had puppy dog eyes, pleading with you. Was this really what he wanted? And with you of all people???

“I am not--we cannot--Juyeon, I’m your stylist!!!” You objected.

“So what?” Juyeon raised his chin stubbornly.

You sputtered some more. “That’s unethical, that’s morally incorrect, that’s insane!”

Juyeon took a step forward. “You want to, don’t you?”

You took a step back. Damn it, wasn’t Juyeon supposed to be empty-headed? You cleared your throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Juyeon moved to his knees. “I will do whatever you want.”

You rolled your eyes. “Then crawl on your knees to me.”

Your eyes bulged out of your head when Juyeon did in fact do that. And once he arrived at your feet, he looked up at you. “Tell me what to do next.”

You let out a laugh because you couldn't help yourself. This was ridiculous. “Prop my leg up and kiss up my leg.”

Juyeon cupped your foot and put it atop his knee and began to lovingly kiss up your leg along your dark tights. Your lower half tightened inadvertently in anticipation. What was this fool doing to you?

While looking down your nose, you instructed Juyeon. “Lick my cunt through my tights and underwear.”

And didn’t Juyeon dive head first into your clothed pussy. Your plaid skirt was up to your hips now, Juyeon enthusiastically poking and prodding your cunt. His nose brushed your clit and you bit down hard on your lip. Only then did Juyeon stop, if only to plead with you. “Please, if I can’t kiss you, don’t bite your lip. Let me hear how good I'm making you feel.”

“No one can know, Juyeon,” You hissed.

Juyeon jutted out his lip but continued back with his task at hand. You grew frustrated and then bold with the need to feel more. “Rip my tights, Ju. Rip them and push my panties to the side. Be a good boy and make me cum with your tongue.”

Juyeon gripped your tights, and with a loud rip, made a hole in your crotch. His fingers reached through the hole and pushed your panties in the way. And then he really showed you how much he wanted you. That tongue circled your clit, making you buck your hips upwards. Your clit grew engorged from the pleasure and soon he was able to suck on the sensitive flesh, rough tongue flicking and tempting and pushing you towards your high.

You couldn't help yourself, your hands buried into his hair, part of you screaming that your good work was about to be ruined, and another part of you saying fuck it, you wanted to cum. "That's it, Ju, you're doing so good! Make me cum."

Juyeon moaned into your mound and then wrapped his arms around your thighs. He ate like a starved man, sucking, licking, nipping; whatever it took to make you cum. You came with a muffled cry in the back of your throat. In the height of your orgasm, you don't remember getting head like that ever.

Juyeon let go of your arms and sat back on the balls of his feet. You had praised him, finally. Juyeon couldn't do an awful lot in your eyes, but he could do this for you. Finally, he could be of use. "Was I good for you?" He asked, eyes hopeful of more praise.

You couldn't look at him, however. "I came, didn't I?" You said under your breath.

Juyeon grinned, the empty-head type that you normally hated. "I told you I would treat you good; that I could be good for you."

You shimmied your skirt back down your hips and pushed your hair behind your ear. "Yes, well, get back onto my chair. I need to fix your hair and makeup again," You grumbled.

“Does this mean you’ll start taking me for Taco Tuesdays with Sunwoo?” Juyeon wondered as he sat back down in your chair.

"Don't push your luck," You muttered, unconsciously tugging his hair into place a bit harder than normal; perhaps even just like you did when he was eating you out.

And Juyeon remained smiling the entire time you fixed him.

Taglist: @starlitmark look i finally wrote juju 🥺 thank you for all the help with the new formatting, you're neat 💞

#revember=revenge+november #kvanity #kwritersworldnet #cultofdionysusnet #the boyz smut #lee juyeon smut #tbz smut #juyeon smut #lee juyeon x reader #the boyz x reader #juyeon x reader #βtbz #topaz's work

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punkshort · 9 months

Text

Chapter warnings: explicit smut (MDNI), perhaps some slight dubcon, language

Chapter Fifteen

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak

AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)

Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters

May 2004

You jumped and snapped your eyes open when you felt his fingers brush against your cheek. The moon was completely covered by clouds, making it difficult to see your own hand in front of your face. You looked around in the darkness, hearing the crickets and bullfrogs sing from a nearby pond. You sat up in your sleeping bag, rubbing your eyes and yawning.

"Hey," Joel whispered to you, stroking your cheek again. "Your turn." You nodded, even though you were fairly certain he couldn't see you, and unzipped your sleeping bag so you could stand. He put his hand inside yours to help pull you off the forest floor, his eyes more adjusted to the darkness than your own. He handed you the rifle as you rolled your shoulders, trying to wake your body up.

"You good?" he asked, whispering again.

"Yeah," you replied softly, "just more tired than I thought. Go get some sleep." You turned to head a few feet away to the edge of the trees, finding a broken stump to perch on and observe your surroundings as your eyes became more focused. You heard Joel rustling in his sleeping bag as he got comfortable, and then it was silent, except for the soft hum of wildlife around you.

You've been walking for a few weeks, making camp only in the density of the woods, not yet having found any place suitable enough to spend a few nights and recuperate. You were both exhausted from only getting a few hours of sleep each night, not nearly enough for either of you considering how many miles you walked in any given day. The forests were hilly, the was terrain soft and uneven, requiring more effort than usual from your bodies, slowing you down quite a bit. Joel figured you were headed in the direction of Omaha, but he wanted to steer clear of the city proper, so you were trying to keep a path that was further south, closer to the Missouri border.

After the cruel invasion of your little paradise, Joel had speculated that the men who came that day were part of a larger group, likely connected to the men you killed in the parking ramp. He told you at the time he found it odd that all of the sudden some people stumbled upon your little neighborhood when you had been there for several weeks, completely untouched. That the only thing that made sense was they tracked you back to your home, looking for revenge. It scared you to think someone out there had a vendetta against you, that it could cost your lives, but Joel assured you being so far removed from civilization now kept you safe. However, he still insisted on taking turns keeping watch at night, so you wondered just how truthful he was being.

You sighed as you listened to the crickets chirp in the darkness. Joel had left behind the two car batteries he wanted to use for the CB radio, and he mentioned once you found another small town or highway that he wanted to go looking for another one. You knew he was right, that you couldn't continue to live off the land forever, just the two of you. That the chances of finding Tommy were slim to none. And Joel was adamant about staying far away from any QZ. So, the only option left was to find another group of people who you could trust, and he was hoping to find that with his radio.

You patrolled the tree line every 10 minutes or so, not because it was necessary, but because it helped keep you awake You always glanced down at Joel's sleeping face when you passed by him. You were so close to having everything you wanted: the safety of a secluded home with the man you loved. You weren't sure when you realized it, but once you did, it was like you always knew. You kept it to yourself for now. It was the wrong time to bring it up. Maybe once you found someplace safe, someplace semi-permanent, you would tell him how you felt. He didn’t need the distraction right now.

You sat back down on the stump and watched as the sky slowly brightened through the lush tree trunks, then over the tops of the trees before the sun finally peeked through and birds began to sing, making you squint and readjust yourself so you weren't facing the light head-on. You looked back at Joel, still asleep based on the slow rise and fall of his shoulder. Knowing that the extra rest would do him good, you quietly got to work taking out the small kettle and can of coffee, gently removing two mugs from your backpack so they didn't clatter and make noise. There was a small stream nearby where you filled the kettle, as well as your canteens. Resting them next to you on the ground, you got to work starting a fire. It wasn't until Joel smelled the scent of coffee in your mugs that he stirred and turned over, glancing up at the sun in the sky before looking at you, his brows furrowed.

"Shoulda woke me sooner," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. You reached a mug out in his direction, and he took it from you gratefully, cradling it in both his hands before bringing it to his lips. You took a sip from your own mug before leaning back against a tree.

"You needed the sleep," you told him as he took another sip. "We've been hiking so much, you need to take care of yourself." He met your eyes over the rim of his mug, giving you a smirk before taking a big swig of coffee.

"What?" you asked him, raising an eyebrow. You put your mug on the ground to fish out some granola and a can of fruit. You tossed the items to Joel and leaned back to rest against your tree. He shook his head at you before ripping into the granola package.

"Nothin'," he said, keeping his eyes down on the food, "I was just thinkin', I prefer the way you take care of me..." you smiled, thinking it was such a sweet thing to say before he added, "in more ways than one."

Joel's eyes shot up to yours now, the surprise apparent on your face. The past few weeks have shifted you both into survival mode. Neither of you had attempted to be physical with one another, except for a quick kiss here or a squeeze of a hand there, an unspoken agreement that being out in the woods was dangerous and you needed to be alert. You blushed and looked down at your mug, feeling shy and taken off guard.

When he saw your reaction, he got up from his sleeping bag to come sit next to you, then tilted your chin up with his finger.

"You havin' second thoughts about us?" he asked, wanting it to come off as a joke, but as soon as he said the words, he realized he needed to know the answer.

You gave him a confused frown. Instead of answering, you put your mug down and flipped your leg over his so you were straddling him. Putting your hands on his shoulders, you leaned down and pressed your lips against his mouth, wrapping one hand around his neck to pull him in deeper. He groaned and you took advantage, sliding your tongue alongside his while his hands gripped your waist. He let his head fall back gently against the tree trunk, running his hands up and down your back before resting them on your hips, pushing you down to grind against his cock, still hard from waking up.

You moaned, flipping your head in the other direction and swirling your tongue around his, tasting the crystallized black coffee in his mouth, and tightening the grip you had on his shoulder. Joel began lightly lifting his hips from the ground to rub against you while his kisses became messier. You had to force yourself back to break the contact before things escalated. He whined, trying to chase your mouth with his, but you dodged him, gently pushing his chest so he rested against the tree trunk again.

He looked up at you, his gaze dark and needy, panting softly as he tried to catch his breath.

“Why would you ask me that?” you said, refusing to respond to his hips still grinding into you.

“I don’t know, sweetheart. Guess it’s been a while and it got me wonderin’ if you came to your senses.” He said, his eyes raking down your body and watching the slow roll of his hips against yours.

“What do you mean?” you asked, trying your hardest to stay focused and not let him distract you.

“Y’know,” he shrugged, still looking down at your hips, “that you realized you deserve better.”

He said it so casually, so matter-of-factly, like anyone in the world would understand, that it made your chest ache. You pushed your hips down firmly, pinning him to the ground so he couldn’t continue rubbing himself against your core, and gripped his chin firmly in your fingers, pulling his surprised gaze up to yours.

“Do you really believe that?” you asked, and all he could do was nod, still staring deep into your eyes. You let go of his chin and placed your hands on his shoulders.

“Listen to me,” you began, making sure he was paying attention. “You are all that I want. You are all that I ever wanted. You’ve consumed my every waking thought for the past year, and you think I ‘deserve better’?” You leaned down to press a firm kiss on his lips before murmuring against his mouth. “There is no better than you. You’re perfect.” He shook his head, averting his gaze.

“I’m far from perfect. I fuck everything up, I piss everyone off, and –“ you cut him off, refusing to hear any more.

“I love you, Joel.”

His eyes shot up to yours. All you could hear was the buzzing of insects surrounding you in the woods and the occasional squirrel bouncing in the treetops. You held your breath, waiting for a reaction as he stared at you, his face giving nothing away. You shifted on his lap a little, beginning to feel exposed.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to tell you that now, I don’t want to distract you, but –“ Suddenly, Joel sprung forward and pushed you back into the sharp bed of pine needles on the forest floor and covered you with his body as he plunged his tongue into your mouth with a greater sense of urgency than before, his hand tangling in your hair. You were having trouble keeping pace with the unexpected response, so you resigned yourself to laying there with your hands on his jaw and waist while he feasted on your mouth in a frenzy. He broke the kiss, leaning back and swiped mindlessly at your shirt, trying to unbutton it but his fingers wouldn’t cooperate. You moved his hands away so he wouldn’t tear the buttons off and ruin the flannel, undoing them quickly and leaving the shirt open but still covering your breasts while he yanked at the zipper on your jeans, pulling them over your hips desperately.

“Joel,” you gasped, looking around the forest as he pulled your jeans all the way off. “We should wait, we should find a safe place, we can’t – oh!” your back arched off the ground when you felt his tongue lick a stripe all the way from your folds to your clit. He focused his mouth on your bundle of nerves, sucking it into his mouth before traveling back down to your center and darting his tongue inside you, moaning when you clenched around him. The vibrations made your jaw hang open, a silent scream on your lips as you rocked yourself up and down to the rhythm he set, the scruff of his beard making the sensation on your cunt so intense it was making you see stars. He brought his mouth back up as he inserted one finger inside you, then two, while his tongue swirled around your clit. He must have noticed your reaction to the vibrations from his voice because he moaned against you over and over until you grabbed at his hair and pulled, stifling a scream as you came, still hyper aware you were exposed in the middle of the woods.

Joel slowed his pace as you came down, removing his fingers from your pussy and popping them in his glistening mouth with a smirk. You gasped for air as you watched him, still unsure how he managed to get you in this position so quickly. You glanced at the trees around you again, making sure no infected or people were nearby, before your gaze landed back on Joel right as he was pushing his jeans down past his knees, freeing his cock and fisting himself as he looked at you.

“This is too risky,” you whispered to him, but he shook his head.

“Don’t care,” he replied, bending down to push his lips against your mouth, tasting yourself as he ran his tongue alongside yours. You whined as he pulled back so he could line himself up with your entrance, applying the slightest bit of pressure before he let go and fell back on his arms to hover above you. He flicked your flannel open, revealing your breasts to him, and he brought a hand up to gently caress one in his palm, rolling a nipple between his fingers. You squirmed below him, desperate now to feel him inside.

“Say it again,” he commanded, giving you a look you had only seen given to colleagues in meetings, a look that meant he was not fucking around.

“I-I love you,” you stammered, unable to look away from his heated gaze. His eyes fluttered shut and he groaned, then in one swift motion, pushed his throbbing cock into you, making you squeeze your eyes shut and bite back a cry as your cunt fluttered around him, trying to adjust to his size. He hardly gave you any time to acclimate before his hips were thrusting into you steadily. Not too fast, but not the slow, languid thrusts he gifted you the first time you slept together. You gripped his back, your nails digging into his muscle as his pace increased, his gasps and groans absorbed by your throat where his mouth rested. He brought his hand down to grab your knee and pulled it up to your chest like before, causing a small cry to escape your lips as the angle changed to where he could hit that spot deep inside.

“J-Joel,” you stuttered, tears forming in your eyes. “I’m close, I’m gonna – oh, god, fuck - I’m gonna,” you shut your eyes, unable to finish your sentence as you felt the wave of euphoria begin to rise.

“Say it one more time,” he grunted, his jaw clenched as he slammed into you, watching your face closely. “Say it again when you come on my cock.”

“I love you,” you whimpered softly as you felt that familiar wave wash over you and you stilled under him, tilting your head back with your eyes squeezed shut and mouth agape as you tried your best to be quiet. Joel’s movements became unsteady as he watched you come undone. The sight, combined with your admission, made him so lost in the moment that he almost forgot to pull out, spilling himself with a harsh grunt all over your thighs and the pine needles underneath you at the last second.

“Fuck,” he whispered, gasping for breath as he looked down at his seed painting your legs before tipping his head backwards towards the sky, trying to get ahold of himself.

You gripped at the edges of your flannel, pulling it shut as he kneeled between your legs, head still tilted back. You took another cursory glance around you before settling back on him, his eyes closed, and his head now slumped forward. You didn’t mean for the words to slip out, but you sensed in that moment of insecurity he needed the confirmation. You knew it was too soon, that you shouldn’t expect a response, but you were still embarrassed. You closed your eyes, regret invading your mind, as you waited for him to get up so you could clean yourself. Then you felt a cloth gently sweeping across your thighs, and you looked down to see he had fished a rag out of his jeans. He tossed it to the side and then looked at you, your eyes finally meeting once again. You grew uncomfortable under his gaze and began shifting your eyes around, hoping he would stand so you could pull your pants back up, feeling way too open.

“I love you, too,” he said softly, like he was reading your mind, and your eyes darted back to his immediately. You bit your lip to hold back a smile, but he saw it, and a grin spread over his face. He reached down to pull your underwear and jeans back up, and you lifted your hips so you could zip your pants before getting to work on buttoning your flannel.

You sat up and reached for your coffee, now cold in your mug, but you didn't care. You both sat in a comfortable silence sipping from your mugs, his arm draped around your shoulders. If you closed your eyes and focused, you could pretend you were sitting on the front porch of the white house with blue shutters, enjoying your morning coffee together in peace.

You were standing watch on a small highway that curved through the forest while Joel rummaged through a cluster of abandoned cars, checking under the hoods for a useable battery. You looked up and down the road, seeing nothing but a few squirrels and birds swooping down to peck at the ground. You turned back to check on him, smiling as Joel's face scrunched in concentration, twisting the knobs on the transceiver before holding the microphone up to his ear. He smirked, his features relaxing, before looking up at you.

"I got static," he told you, twisting the knobs again before cupping the receiver around his ear. He looked at the terrain around you before shutting the radio off and shoving both items in his pack, handing you a few of his things so he could make room. He zipped his backpack up and slung it around his shoulders, squinting at the trees again.

"We gotta get out of these hills, won't get much of a signal up here, too much blocking it," he explained, spreading his arm out to indicate the thick forest around you. He looked back down at you now, your brows furrowed with worry. He bent down to capture his lips over yours, massaging them gently before pulling away and using his thumb to smooth the frown from your forehead.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm gonna find us somewhere safe. Maybe even find us a house one day," he murmured, running his thumb over your lower lip before letting his hand fall to his side, dropping his head down to give you a reassuring look. You smiled back at him as you followed him down the road, leading you out of the hills and through the trees. You knew he was trying his best, but you were still worried about being around other people. So far, your interactions have not been very positive, and your trust in strangers was quickly waning. But you trusted Joel, and you knew he wouldn't lead you anywhere that was unsafe, so you carried on and followed him down the road. After a few hours, you found yourselves overlooking the edge of a huge cliff, leaning up against the guardrail to admire the tall pine trees below.

"Wow," you muttered, glancing down before taking a tentative step backwards. "We're higher up than I thought."

Joel was digging in his pack to pull the battery and radio out, tuning the dials to see if he could pick anything up. All you heard was static. You turned around to face the road, kicking a small stone and watching it skip across the pavement. You noticed the shadow of a bird fly over the road, and you glanced up to see a big hawk circling overhead, no doubt hunting for some lunch. You shrugged your pack from your shoulders and rummaged around for some beef jerky and dried fruit, listening to Joel mutter to himself as he turned the dials. Perching on a big rock, you took a bite of food and swiveled your head around, making sure the coast was still clear. You nearly choked on your dried peach when you heard a broken voice come through on the radio, your eyes shooting up to meet each other in shock.

You jumped down from the rock, your meal forgotten, as you jogged over to where he was crouched and bent down to try to make out the message. After a few minutes with no success, only able to make out a word or two, Joel turned the radio off and repacked it, sliding the backpack over his shoulders.

"We gotta keep moving, maybe the further down we go, we can pick up a better signal. C'mon," he said excitedly, turning to walk down the road as you ran back to snatch up your bow, pack and your bag of food, pushing the anxiety from your mind.

He kept pulling the radio back out every half hour or so, trying to see if the signal was clearer before continuing forward. It was getting late, you could see the sun glowing orange as it dipped below the trees. You were tired. Your feet and back hurt, and you weren't far enough into the forest to make a safe campsite.

"Joel?" You called out to him, ten feet ahead, mind still focused on the radio call. "Joel?" You tried again, louder this time. He swiveled around to you, his forehead creased.

"We gotta stop soon, find a place to set up camp," you said, peering through the forest which was quickly becoming dark.

"Just a little further, I think if we make it past this next bend in the road, I might be able to hear it," he said, turning back around before you stopped him, saying his name more firmly now, becoming frustrated.

"We can try tomorrow, c'mon, I'm tired," you said, your eyes pleading. He sighed and looked around for the first time, realizing how quickly it was becoming dark.

"Ok, let's go," he huffed, leading you into the woods. It was worrying you how fixated he was becoming on this radio call, like it was the answer to his prayers. Joel was quiet and lost in thought as he set up camp, hardly sparing a glance your way until he volunteered to take first watch. He picked up his rifle and headed a few yards out, clutching his flashlight in his hand and anxiously tapping his foot on the ground.

"Joel?" you said quietly, walking up behind him. He turned briefly to look at you before turning his attention back to the trees. "Can we talk about this?" you questioned hesitantly.

"What about it?" he replied gruffly, still turned away.

"I just want to manage your expectations; it might not be what you think it is. It could be a trap, or it could be the military. We don't know -" Joel cut you off, turning around to face you, his gaze dark.

"You don't wanna do this." He meant it to sound like a question, but it was more of a statement, like he already knew the answer. "I get it. We've had some bad run-ins, but we gotta try. We can't keep wanderin' around forever, and I ain't gettin' stuck in a QZ." His jaw ticked in frustration, wishing you would get on board with this plan.

"Remind me again why we don't want to go to a QZ," you retorted, narrowing your eyes at him. He sighed and rolled his eyes, your point proven. People are capable of terrible things.

"Yeah, I know, but we gotta believe there's some good out there. We need a community, people to help build a life again," he pleaded, reaching an arm out to you. You paused before reluctantly placing your hand in his palm, but you still refused to step towards him. He gave your hand a gentle tug and brought you forward to wrap his arms around you, kissing the crown of your head.

"Do you trust me?" he asked you, his lips pressed against the top of your head. You nodded before pushing away from him to head back to your sleeping bag, but not before calling over your shoulder, "You better be right, Miller."

He smirked and turned back towards the dense forest as you buried yourself inside your sleeping bag, the sounds of crickets lulling you to sleep.

The next day was rainy as you made your way further down the hill. Joel took mercy on you and waited until he had found a spot that was covered with some trees so you weren't standing in the pouring rain while he tested the radio. He knew you were concerned about what this next phase could bring, that you missed the little neighborhood you were forced to leave so suddenly. He didn't share with you his real reason for his obsession with finding a safe haven. Ever since you had to leave the house in a rush a few weeks ago, his anxiety has been borderline unmanageable. All he could focus on was what would have happened if it wasn't storming, if he didn't come back to the house exactly when he did. There had been too many close calls in the past few months, and he was realizing his ability to keep you safe would only get worse with age. The thought of putting you in harm’s way was eating him alive and keeping him up at night. Sometimes, he could feel his anxiety creeping up so badly that his chest began to ache, and his breathing became irregular. He didn't want to worry you and he knew you would just argue that you could defend yourself, so he kept these thoughts to himself and just focused on finding someplace permanent to live.

He got the radio to the right frequency when he finally heard the message clearer than he had the day before. You turned your head to stare at the radio as you heard the recording of a woman's voice say there was safety to be found at the Kansas City University dormitories, that there was a small group of survivors there welcoming all others. It gave directions on which dorm they were residing in before the recording stopped, then the message started over after about 20 seconds of silence.

He listened to it twice before turning it off, avoiding your stare as he packed the radio back in his bag. You remained silent. You expressed your concerns yesterday, there wasn't much point in repeating it. Joel took his map out to double check the route before continuing down the road to hook up with I-29. You walked in silence in the heavy rain for hours until you found an overpass to hide under and eat.

You kept your gaze focused on your food, fuming silently to yourself. Of course the message said exactly what he wanted to hear. You felt like you were the only one thinking logically, that maybe these people were already dead, or they were trying to lure you into a trap to steal your weapons and food. It was unlike Joel to be so willing to walk into a potentially dangerous situation like this, and you were starting to get angry.

"Alright, out with it," he said, feeling the tension and clearly annoyed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you replied flatly, your eyes still fixed on your food.

"Don't play games with me," he said, his voice raising a bit. Why couldn't you see this was the best option? Why couldn't you just understand?

Pissed, you flicked your empty bag of food on the ground and stood up to glare at him, nostrils flaring.

"I already told you, Joel. I'm scared this isn't what you think it is. Why would they broadcast their location like that? Anybody could run up on them and steal their shit, kill them all. That doesn't cross your mind as strange?" you said through clenched teeth. He stood up now, his anger setting in. "What the hell's going on with you? Weren't you the one who told me not to be naive? Not everyone's telling the truth?"

"'What the hell's goin' on with me?'" He repeated, his fist clenched at his side. "I'll tell you what's goin' on with me. I'm fuckin' scared! I hardly know what I'm doin' out here, and I'm scared to death I'm gonna get you killed. Is that what you want to hear?" he yelled. He could feel his chest begin to tighten again but he ignored it. "And don't go tellin' me you can take care of yourself, I know you can, but there's too much at stake. If I lose you, it'll fuckin' kill me, do you get that?!" He grabbed your arms and gave you a shake, his outburst surprising you.

You stared at each other as his words settled over you. You could see in his eyes that he really was scared, that he was desperate, pleading with you to go through with this. You sighed as you felt the anger begin to dissipate. Maybe there was a compromise. You wriggled out from his grasp and took a step back, his arms falling to his sides.

Joel continued to stare at you, his eyes wide and panicky, determined to convince you. Over his shoulder you picked up some sluggish movement. Your eyes flicked from him to the runner lumbering towards you, his back still turned. You whipped the bow from behind you and grabbed an arrow sticking out of your backpack.

"Move," you muttered as you drew the arrow back. He shifted to the side and turned to see the infected ambling towards him, picking up speed. You lodged an arrow right between its eyes, your arms falling heavy to your side. You hung your head before bringing your chin up to look at him.

"Fine," you succumbed. "On one condition."

"Name it," he said eagerly, his chest relaxing.

"We watch them for a few days, or however long it takes for me to be good with this. We don't just go walking up and knocking on their door." You slung the bow across your back and walked a few feet to pull your arrow from the runner's skull.

"Done," he said, unable to hide the relief in his voice. "If anything feels off, we keep goin'. I promise."

You rolled your eyes, mostly teasing, but still annoyed with him.

"Come on, let's get going. We have to find somewhere to set up camp soon." You turned on your heel and left the cover of the overpass, Joel following shortly behind after a quick glance at his map. The thruway led you both through a massive nature preserve until you had found a small shelter that appeared to be a welcome center for the park. If it weren't for the thruway narrowly carving its way through the dense forest, you would be in the middle of nowhere. You were soaked to the bone and thrilled to find a place with a roof for the night. Joel didn't want to start a fire til the morning, so you had to make do with draping your wet clothes over the counters, hoping they would dry, and putting on layers before tucking yourself into your sleeping bag. Since you weren't as exposed now, Joel didn't think it was necessary to take watch. It would be the first time either of you got to sleep through the night in weeks. You buried your face and turned on your side, but right before you fell asleep, you felt Joel's arm snake around your waist and pull you closer to him across the floor, spooning you through your sleeping bags.

Kansas City, MO

You looked through the rifle scope at the Oak Street dormitory from your perch in a park across Brush Creek. The trees kept you mostly hidden, but you couldn’t get very high to get a good look at the place. Joel was hesitant to venture closer into the city, and you agreed that you felt safer in the confines of a park, surrounded by nature like you had become accustomed. It was your fourth day observing the dorms. You could see some movement through the windows from time to time, but they were smart: they kept their movements to a minimum and kept as many windows as possible covered. You had seen a couple men come outside with assault rifles doing what looked like regular perimeter checks, but aside from that, you hardly saw anyone. You had a pit in your stomach about this. You really hoped that when you got here, something would have convinced you that it was a good decision, that these people were trustworthy, but so far all you could tell was they were very good at staying quiet.

You sighed and leaned back, giving Joel the rifle and rolling your shoulder, tense from hovering over the gun all morning. He peered through the scope but saw the same thing as you, which wasn’t much. He had been patient and didn’t push you, he wanted this to work out so desperately, but he knew you had to come around on your own. You picked at your fingernails as you stared straight ahead past the creek to the building, trying to rationalize why this would be a good idea.

“I don’t know about this, Joel,” you admitted, chewing your lip and still staring at the building. “On one hand, they keep a low profile, but on the other, I can’t get an idea of what we would be dealing with.”

He nodded, his gaze falling to the ground, and he rubbed his chest. He wasn’t sure if you would find another community for a long time, and he was terrified of what could happen by then. You studied his face as he stared at the ground, feeling guilty for being doubtful. You understood his concerns, and you trusted him, but your gut was telling you something was off. You reached your hand out to take his, and he lifted his eyes to look at you questioningly.

“If you think it’s a good idea, I’ll do it,” you told him, stifling the nagging feeling in the back of your mind. His eyes crinkled as his face broke out into a smile, grabbing you and pulling you into a deep kiss, trying to express his gratitude. You pulled away and held his hand again.

“You can’t leave me alone, though. Not until I feel comfortable. It’s still us or them, right?” you told him, gazing urgently into his eyes, your grip on his hand tightening. He nodded aggressively.

“I won’t leave you, sweetheart. We’re in this together.” He leaned forward and planted another kiss before pulling back and gripping your face in his hands. “This’ll be good, I know it.”

You walked up to the building, unarmed with your hands raised. The area was quiet, you didn’t hear any sounds of infected, gunshots, or people, which put your mind at ease a bit. The door swung open and three men came out, aiming their rifles in your direction.

“Freeze!” one with dark black hair and thick eyebrows shouted. You did as you were told, raising your hands even higher as they approached you. When they got closer, the dark-haired man spoke up.

“What’s your business here?” he asked, eyeing your weapons but not making a move to take them.

“We heard your call over the radio, we’re lookin' for a community, just a couple of survivors.” Joel told them. You continued to stare straight ahead into the dark-haired man’s eyes. He turned his mouth to his shoulder where a walkie talkie was fastened, and he let whoever was on the other end know they had two survivors looking for asylum. He listened to his earpiece and nodded, lowering his weapons.

“You need to hand over your guns, then you can come with us. Meet the leadership. When they deem it acceptable, they’ll give you rooms.” He told you both, reaching his hand out expectantly for your weapons. You glanced at Joel nervously but did as the man said and tossed your knives, bow and handgun on the ground in between you as the two other men scooped them up. You lowered your hands as they ushered you into the building, one skinny man with reddish hair in front of you, leading the way, and the other two behind you, keeping a close eye on your movements.

The man knocked on a door on the second floor, only entering when he heard the acknowledgement from within. The door pushed open and you followed Joel into the room, standing beside him as the two men remained stationed at the door, their eyes still trained on the both of you. The redhead spoke up to a small group of people who were huddled around a desk examining a map.

“These are the two we saw approaching the doors,” he said, stepping aside so the leaders could survey you. You felt Joel stiffen beside you, but you weren’t sure why. There were four older men and one younger blonde woman, who immediately fixed her gaze onto Joel and the corner of her mouth pulled into a smirk. You turned your head to look at Joel, his jaw locked and he was frowning, staring daggers into the blonde woman.

“Joel!” she exclaimed softly, looking back in her direction as you heard him swallow roughly next to you.

“Amy,” he replied coldly, and you felt your stomach drop.

Chapter Sixteen

Tag list: @chiogarza, @sparklejumpropequeen-777, @shotgun-shelby

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller series #joel x reader #joel x reader smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us game #the way we were joel miller fic

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saradika · 9 months

Text

— BLEED FOR ME | part v

[masterlist]

mand’alor!vampire!din djarin x f!reader

rated e - 6k

haunted hoedown: vampire!au + “i would burn the world for you.” + vampire has a taste for specific blood + revenge + (one-sided) enemies to lovers (+2 secrets!)

tags: vampire!au, reader has scar on shoulder, shared memories, references and implied death/murder, biting/marking kink, fingering, oral (f relieving), mild-meld, aphrodisiacs, teasing, possessive!din, PiV, body worship, praise kink

He left that night, as the setting sun streaked the sky red. Surely an omen, his silhouette long and monstrous against the earth as he took off for the second time.

You had thought he would stay. A few hours, or perhaps even days, before leaving. To get his strength back up, after his time spent in the village.

But he had laughed, when you voiced your worries. A short, rough thing.

“Cyare, I have never felt stronger.”

A growl to his words, his face resolute. Worry twisting in your stomach as he had donned his pauldron again, strapping the beskar armor back into place.

Leaning to press his forehead to yours, for the briefest moment. Your fingers curling into his dark cape, as if that alone could make him stay.

Your head had tilted up, eyes starting to close - but then he had stepped back. Disappearing behind the helmet.

Eager to leave, to finish things, after you had told him where to find them. Their last known camp, the places you had been before.

They had thought that trusting in you would be their salvation. Their deceit had guaranteed that you’d be their downfall.

This time, there’s a name to the feeling you have when you wait. It’s shifted from worry into concern. That hope that he’d come back from before, to a desire.

A need.

It was hard to believe so much had changed so quickly. A slip of a tongue, a coy reference turning your life upside down for the section time.

Making it right-side up, now.

As the minutes and then hours bleed by, you become more and more sure that he was right.

Seeing those little moments of hesitation, moments from your memory, in the new light.

The emphasis of their own agenda. The pressure for revenge, to do their work for them. The lies spun so expertly, until it seemed like they were convincing themselves it was true.

A part of you grieves. There had been kindness in your days spent amongst the Vampire Slayers, in spite of everything.

And in a very twisted way, they had brought you and your soulmate together.

But then the tears go dry, turning into a silent rage when you think of their lies. What they had done. That yes, some had taken care of you. But how could they comfort you, when your situation was from their own doing?

How if you had listened, your soulmate would be gone. By your own hand.

It’s unforgivable.

And so, you get over it.

The sky has turned from streaked crimson, to inky black, to a rich golden dawn.

The time spent even more fitfully than the days before. Not even knowing just how far of a journey it would be, with as often as you had moved around.

He might not be back, today. You tell yourself that - again and again.

But just as the sun crests over the mountains beyond, you see a mark on the horizon. Slowly growing larger, larger. Until you’re certain it’s him.

The feeling in your chest surprises you - a bone-deep relief and and itching desire to race down to meet him.

You had missed him when he was gone. Not just yesterday, but the days before.

But you wait for him, in this room.

For him to return to you - although the door is already open and waiting. Although you are on your feet when you see the flicker of his shadow, as he climbs the spiraling stone staircase.

Feeling shy now, in spite of everything.

Not sure how to express the transformation of your feelings. What to say to the person who has done so much for you - a king. A ruler who has killed for you for easily, who has gone through such lengths to keep you safe.

You had never felt inadequate before - too focused on your goals. Too used to his respect tones and gentle touches to see just who he truly was. Never wondering what it would make you, to be by his side.

But, you try.

"Din. I was worried about you." You breathe, ushering him into the room. Tugging the heavy wooden door shut, closing you both in together.

Your eyes rove across his armor. The soot and dark flecks of red that gather in the creases, clinging to your fingertips as you touch his vambraces. His helmet tips to watch you, as you look for wounds, signs of injury. Still as a statue, as he allows you to fuss over him.

Then you're taking a breath to settle your nerves, as you ask, "Are you, are they-?"

"They are no longer a threat." He promises, his voice rough through the helmet, "You'll never have to think about them again."

The relief that swells is two-fold. So worried that he would come back hurt again. Or worse, that he might not come back at all.

"All of them?" You ask without thinking, wanting that irrevocable assurance. That final nail in the coffin - a sign that you can grieve and then, move on.

You don’t need to know the how. It’s written in the way the gore and filth clings to him, staining his shining silver. Returning each and every blow that had befallen your town.

There's a hesitation, at your question. That eerie stillness and silence that comes from one who doesn't breathe. Worry clouding your features before he's pulling the gloves from his fingers. A twitch of his hands as they curl into fists, as if he’s not sure he’s allowed to touch you, yet.

"Din?" You ask, as you reach for him, instead.

Touching the back of a hand, your fingers warm. His fingers unfurling to clasp yours, as you give an encouraging squeeze.

"I spared two." He tells you, quietly. "They had just joined. They were... frightened. Reminded me of you. And… I couldn't."

That fear in your chest quells, replaced with something else. A flowering admiration, a tenderness as your face softens. That his ferocity was still tempered with kindness. A good man, you think. In spite of what he said last night.

It would have been easy to finish things. You're sure that newcomers would have been no threat. And that they came willingly - you wonder if they knew just how much they had been spared.

Not by him, but by those who surely saw them as your replacement. Already losing faith. No more than a convenient pawn.

"I brought them to the village." He seems not to notice the way you watch him, all soft eyes now, "I don't think they are a threat. But if you feel otherwise..."

Again, deferring to you. Knowing just how personal this was. Putting you first in both his mind and in his actions.

Your head shakes. An urge to see him, as your hand leaves his. Carefully cupping the sharp curves of his helmet, as you step closer.

Broad palms press against your wrists. The flex of his fingers are they curl around… but he lets you.

Lets you remove the beskar, to take down his shields. Allowing you to see the man that's underneath. Dark and watchful eyes, his face so expressive without the mask.

"I'm glad you did." You smile, and it's a bright thing - the lightest your heart has felt in days. In spite of the circumstances, his actions.

"You are so good to me."

His look darkens then. The flex of his fingers against your skin - reacting to your praise, your smile.

And carefully, you begin to take him apart. Wanting to rid him of his bloodstained armor, to tell him it's okay to rest. That he is safe now, too.

Finding the fastenings of his cape, folding it gently on the ottoman. Remembering how he removed his pauldrons to show you his matching mark - your fingers clumsy and unfamiliar as you try to copy his movements.

It would surely be faster for him to do this himself, but he lets you. Those eyes still glittering like rubies, catching every single tiny movement.

With some work, his shoulder comes into view, once more. This time you let yourself touch. Tracing the edge of his mark with a careful reverence. Resisting the urge to press your lips against it.

Moving to the armor that covers his chest, instead.

Not knowing if he'd want you to. You didn't know enough about mates, but you did know that each partnership was different.

He may have the desire to keep you close, but he might not want you the way that you've become certain that you want him.

A hand curls around your wrist, as it flattens against his chestplate. Right here your cheek had rested over a year ago, cradled against his heart as he carried you to safety.

“Cyare. You are free to go where you wish.” Din’s words come slowly, carefully - as if sharing the same thought you are, “I don’t… if you want to go back, I understand.”

His free hand dips into the leather pouches at his hips. Drawing forth something that shimmers gold in the candlelight.

You take it without thinking, with your hand still pressed against the cool beskar. It fits into your palm, a second as your mind catches up to what your eyes are seeing.

“I went back. It’s not far. Your home didn’t burn completely. It could be rebuilt, if you wished. I could-”

His words fade.

It’s your locket. The front is dented, the clasp missing from where the delicate links had broken - ripped from beneath rubble. No soot or dirt remains, except where it lingers in the deep crevices. As if someone took the time and care to clean it.

He had known you thought about it. Had seen it in your memories when his own eyes had closed, time and time again.

Your answer comes as your hand moves. The desperate look you give him as the chain wraps around your fingers, as your face tilts up - unable and unwilling to hold yourself back any longer.

His head dips to meet you, fingers sliding from your wrist to curl around your waist. Pulling your flush against him just as his lips press against yours.

Din’s groan comes from his chest. The sound of someone who had never wanted to be parted. Who had felt the need to offer - but had been selfish, deep down.

Of someone who wanted you, all to himself.

Your lips part eagerly with the greedy sweep of his tongue. Another soft moan as he licks into you, a palm coming to press between your shoulder blades. The other cupping the back of your head, both to keep you close.

There’s the press of his plush lips, as you copy the movement. The tip of your tongue darting into his mouth, brushing over the sharp points of his fangs. His hips rock into you in response - the hard, curving press letting you feel just what you do to him.

It has you feeling dizzy. Lightheaded, from forgetting to breathe. It’s easy then, for him to pluck the necklace from your fingers.

Setting it down on the desk, as he distractedly wipes your fingers clean with the edge of his tunic, pulled free and rumpled from your grip. Removing the final remains of his wrath.

The movement nudges his thigh between yours, and it’s all you can do to not grind yourself against it, as his fingers fist in your dress afterwards - bringing you close again.

His eyes are dark, as inky as the night, as your mouth tips towards his again - searching.

“What were you thinking about?” Din husks, fingers biting into your hips, “Before I left the first time. Please-”

He could feel you.

Not your exact thoughts, not like your memories. Just your intent - the reaction of your body in response to your thoughts. The beating of your heart and the flush of arousal that had sweetened your blood as he has drank.

The thought, the now understanding, should be humiliating. But you’re too far gone, drunk on his taste and the edge to his voice. That ‘please’ that slid from his tongue, that surely only you had ever heard.

“You.” The sigh you make is soft, as you remember, “Your mouth. I was thinking about you biting me-”

He groans, before his mouth finds yours again. Hungry this time, coaxing you backward as his hips rock against yours.

Those three steps until your thighs are bumping against the bed, your fingers sliding up strong shoulders to bury in his dark curls.

“Where?” He murmurs against your lips.

Now that rush of heat comes. But you won’t deny him of an answer, not now.

“My… my neck.” You manage, as his lips brush your cheek, your jaw, “A-And my thighs.”

He exhales against your neck, right where you want him, “Is that what you want, ner runi?”

“Yes.” You breath.

Surely he can hear the pounding of your pulse. Feel it as his lips press against your throat, followed by your needy groan.

He hums against your skin, a low laugh. An opened mouth kiss, you tense as you can just feel the scrape of his teeth, before he’s pulling back.

“Get on the bed, cyar’ika.”

Your fingers slip from his hair, eager to obey. Pushing yourself back as he follows, arm curling around your back as he helps you nestle amongst the pillows.

Working at the rest of his armor - the last few pieces you’d been unable to remove. Eyes dark as your fingers join him, tugging at the ties of his tunic. Head ducking as you pull it from him, leaving him bared to the waist.

He’s beautiful. Your hands flatten across his shoulders, drifting across the planes of his chest. Eyes taking in every detail - tracing the ghosts of scars, nails scratching through the dark and salt-peppered curls. And then lower.

His hand catches yours, before you reach his belt. Bringing it up to press a kiss to your palm, before he brings your fingers to the stays of your own dress.

Your fingers feel clumsy - hurried - as you start. Tugging at the bits of ribbon, as his thigh slips between yours. As his body relaxes, his mouth distracting you as it presses a kiss to the hollow of your throat.

Lower, with each loosening of your clothes. Baring your sternum, and then your breasts, as the layers part on either side of you. As his thigh nudges and you whine, the tilt of your hips to press yourself against him.

“You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.” He murmurs against your skin, fingers following the same path.

Across your stomach, curling around the swell of a breast - pressing against your heart as your breath hitches.

“I’m yours.” You manage, as his fingers slip. A knuckle sliding against a tightened peak, trapping it between two.

“Is that right?” He coos, and you nod with another little buck of your hips.

That heat pooling between your thighs again. Slick from his look of hunger. From the flash of teeth as his mouth lowers, the peek of tongue that swipes across a nipple.

“Din.” You cry, reaching for him.

His heads lifts, your heart flips with the tug of his smile. A hand cups your breast, another kiss pressed against the curve.

“You want me to bite you here, too?” He rasps, and you clench with the thoughts.

“Yes. Anywhere you want,” You groan, stiffening in anticipation as his lips part - but his teeth only graze your skin.

“Not yet.” He teases, as he shifts down, “I want to savor you.”

Waiting until you lift your hips, before he pulls your skirt from you.

Your thighs part wider to make room for him. Bare except for your small clothes, your pulse settling low between your thighs.

Eyes roving over the flex of his muscle, the place where his trousers pull tight - your fingers itching to touch.

His hands slide under your knees, nudging them until they bend. Opening you up, as he kisses you there, at the joint.

Slowly moving upward, his eyes half-lidded as you tense in anticipation. Little mewling gasps with the scrape of his teeth, an ache with the press of his mouth.

So close to where you need him, where you’re soaked and aching. Another pathetic clench when his nose drags against your skin, thighs nudging wider as he sucks a mark against your inner thigh.

Nipping at your skin, soothing with his tongue. Heavy-lidded eyes as he hovers at the edge of your underwear.

Inhaling, and you’re sure he can smell your arousal - where it soaks into the cloth - from the way he groans. It feels filthy - your thighs spread wide. The ache you feel in your guts, wanting, needing, him to take you.

Everything feels so sensitive, goosebumps pricking against your skin as the soft press of his lips, the scratch of his facial hair.

“You ready?” He husks, and you’re nodding without thought, eager and desperate.

With a groan, his lips part. Teeth piercing the soft skin of your inner thigh, no more than a sharp pinch - dulled, compared to your wrist.

The sensation familiar, that soft tugging. But enhanced by the intimate location, the way his arms curl under your thighs.

Holding you in place, as that haze settles over. An embrace that you’ve always shied away from, but today - you lean into.

It ripples across your skin, electric. Warm and thick and dripping over you, as you feel your limbs relax. A soft sigh that pitches up as his grip tightens, fingers denting soft skin.

His own moan against your skin in answer, one that seems to follow your pulse, and settle in your clit.

You had felt it before, and ignored it. Desire, with its soft, stroking touch.

But it’s impossible, now. Not with Din feeding so intimately. The swipe of his tongue that soothes his bite. That flush of blood that swells and pools.

Your thighs twitch as you ache for friction, but it’s impossible to press them together. Not with his broad shoulders between them, your hands seeking and reaching and burying in his curls, instead.

The softest tug with the buck of your hips. An urge for him to kiss you there, to touch you - the desire so strong it’s almost tangible, as if you’ll break if he doesn’t.

It’s enough that he can taste it - feel it through your bond. A ragged gasp as he pulls from you, his tongue catching the red bead that wells up against your skin, as his eyes meet yours.

His look ravenous, as a fingertip traces the edge of the thin layer of cloth that separates you. Teasing you like before - a knuckle pressing against your core. Nudging where you ache.

“Is that what you need, sweet girl?” His voice is ragged. “Tell me.”

You’ve never hungered like this before. Desperate and needy. Prepared and willing to beg.

“Gods.” You whine, “I need you to touch me, please-”

He almost purrs with your permission. A pleased moan in his throat at his palm flattens against you, stroking your slit over the fabric.

Teasing until tears prick in your eyes. Up to your clit and pressing until the fabric grows sheer with your slick.

His rough inhale as his head dips, lips pressing a chaste kiss against your cunt. Your hips buck into the touch, his name a ragged plea.

“Din.”

Fingers hook in the cloth, then. Nails biting into the fabric, as he all but tears them from your thighs in his haste to taste you.

A little sound of surprise that pitches up in a throaty moan as he finally, finally, gives you his mouth.

The press of his tongue against your clit. A low groan at your taste, a roll of his hips against the bed as he seeks his own relief.

Sucking on the tight bud, as your fingers tighten. Guiding him to just the right spot, one he finds so easily.

A hand slips free from your thigh, which presses against the meat of his shoulder. Thick fingers moving to trace your opening as he devours you.

You’re wet, impossibly so. That sweet pressure already building from the weeks of edging yourself during his bites. From the power of your connection, every little touch amplified.

The bite of his fingers against your skin. The scrape of stubble, the pad of his thumb as he parts you - holding you open as his mouth moves down.

His nose pressing against you as his tongue pushes inside. Your name moaned into your pussy as he feels you clench down around him.

A ragged breath as he pulls back. Sinking a finger inside you as his lips glisten with you.

“Tastes so fucking good.” He groans, before his tongue is flattening against you, “Wish I could live on this instead.”

Pressing deep, with his finger. The slightest stretch with how wet you are - another slipping inside soon after.

His tongue is soft, as it swipes against you. Cool - a balm against heated, swollen skin. His groan drowns out the wet pump of his fingers, lewd with the way he presses deep.

Curling and stroking, your breath catching in your throat as he nudges against your inner walls. A spot that makes you clench around him, as he moans his encouragement.

It’s too much. The press of his fingers. The way his mouth leaves to nip at your thighs, not enough to pierce the skin. But enough to weave those pricks of pain into the molten swirl of your arousal.

Your eyes are on his, as your breath hitches. As he drinks in every little detail of your expression - the bare heave of your chest, the part of your lips.

The desire is not a new sensation, but it’s never been like this. The way he crowds out everything else in your mind, until it feel impossible to look away.

Trapped in his gaze, as his mouth returns to you once more. A tightening of the hand that still curls around your thigh - holding you in place as he brings you over the edge with a loud cry.

It pulls you under. A bright spark in your belly that radiates outward, racing down your limbs, burning in your veins. Drawn out by the press of his tongue, the tight suck where he can feel your heartbeat as you clench down around his fingers.

Working you through it, until you’re cupping his jaw - trying to push his mouth away. Overstimulated from the way his fingers still work, you gaze greedy when he finally slips them free.

Seeing how they glisten with you - matching his mouth, where you’ve damped the scruff of his jaw.

Din untangles himself. A dark spot dampens the front of his trousers, from where he ground himself hard against the mattress.

Your fingers are already there - plucking at laces. Shoving the cloth down as he removes the last pieces of his armor, smearing your release against the fastenings, the silver beskar.

The mattress dipping as his kneels between your thighs, his cock hanging heavy. Fingers biting into his own flesh as you push yourself up to admire him.

Formidable, even like this. Broad shoulders and a chest with silver-flecked hair. The curve of a stomach and then down, when the dark trail starts up again.

His eyes are on you, as you cup him. A hiss of breath as your fingers wrap around, just barely touching. A marble carving of Adonis in your grip, the tip flushed and leaking.

Gods - you want to know what he feels like in your mouth. How it would feel to swallow him down, if you even could-

You tell yourself you’re going to find out, as you start to shift below him. Coaxing him forwards to fill your mouth, but his hands brace on your hips instead.

Bringing your thighs over his instead, as a hand sides to your waist. Coaxing them to wrap tightly around him, as a hand covers yours. Using your fist to stroke himself, with you bare and spread beneath him.

The hunger in your eyes must be evident, because he smiles.

“Later, cyare. You can have anything you want.” His hand shifts, angling his cock down. Sliding it against your core, tapping the tip against your clit.

“But right now I can’t bear to wait any longer.”

His need courses through you, a reprise of the melody of emotions that had flitted through your mind earlier.

“Then don't. Take me,” You beg, with a lift of your hips. The thought of him stopping is agony, after watching the way his cock comes back shining with you.

Fingers bite into your skin as he lines himself up. As you help, your hand still wrapped around him - eagerly fitting him against your opening.

A sharp inhale as he breaches you, this cock so much thicker than his fingers. That breath held with the smooth roll of his hips. Both of you watching the way he holds your hips up, how each inch slowly sinks into you.

Until he’s there, nestled deep. Leaving you impossibly full. Lingering for a moment, as your heat envelopes, squeezes him so tightly.

A perfect fit - but you both knew you would be.

After his words, you expect him to rut into you. To start the sharp snap of his hips - but instead, he takes his time.

A shallow thrust, just barely pulling out before pressing as deep as he can. Keeping you full, liking the way you pant and squirm beneath him.

Eager to be inside you - but not one to rush, now that he is.

It’s torture, the grind of his hips. How you press your knees into his ribs, rocking to meet each slow thrust.

The pleasure laps at you, licking and sending sparks down your spine. Each pump of his cock is wet and loud with how much you need him, his eyes fixed on your face, only dropping to look at the bounce of your tits.

“More,” You beg, as your fingers drift from his forearms. Across your belly and down. Slipping over your aching clit, until his hand leaves your hip - curling around your wrist.

Clucking his tongue as he presses it to the bed, waiting for you to tell him exactly what you want.

“Come on, cyare.” He coaxes, a smile as the way your heel digs into his back, an attempt to make him speed up, “If you want me to bite you, you need to ask.”

He shifts, sending himself deeper. You keen as his other hand slides from hip to breast. Pinching a nipple as his lips press against your shoulder.

Against your collarbone. The base of your throat.

It takes you a second to find your tongue, helplessly distracted by the pluck of his fingers. The grind of his cock, ghosting against the place that his fingers had stroked.

“Please, Din.” Your free hand wraps around the back of his neck. His curls between your fingers, soft in your grip as you try to coax him up another inch.

He teases, instead. Chaste kisses against your neck. Little nips that have you clenching, before pulling back to start over.

You feel like you’re being held at the brink, everything winding you up so close, but leaving you just short of what you need.

He groans at the taste of your skin, the rapid thud of your pulse. An messy kiss placed just under your ear.

Tongue peeking out to lick at his thumb, leaving your nipple slick as he pinches at you again.

It’s enough for you to find your voice, “Want you to bite my neck. Please bite me, please fuck me-”

“There you go.” He murmurs, “That’s my good girl.”

Teeth pierce your neck. Sharper than your wrist, but fading much more quickly. The pain replaced by bliss as he drinks.

As his hips start to move a little faster, on their own. Tethered to the thoughts that burst in his mind, as ripe as fruit. Feeling your desperation, that tight and winding build of your orgasm.

Your cry loud as he gives you what you need. A little adjust of his hips until his cock is kissing, and then grinding, against that soft, spongey spot.

Fucking himself into your tight heat. An urge to stay there, like this. With him just buried in you, feeding and leaving you in a hazy bliss.

It’s clear now why he waited. How this spot is so closely tethered to your heart. How he wouldn’t have been able to resist the urge to press a kiss against your pulse. The pierce of his teeth akin to the joining of lovers, fueled by how he holds you.

Nails prick his skin, as your arms wrap around him. Your blood is nectar on his tongue, and emotions that flood and wash back over you are possessive.

The flash of feelings are strong enough for you to almost interpret. Desperation and longing and the notion that these thoughts are not new. Something reaching out, an urge to catch it and wrap it around you until you become one.

His groan is muffled against your skin when he pulls back, admiring the twin marks. Sucking another into your skin, and then another.

Fitting his hand between your thighs, brushing at your clit.

“You’re so wet,” Din rasps, fingers sliding easily over slicked skin.

You feel like you’re dripping. Everything heightened, little clenches of your belly as his fingers dip down, to where you stretch around him.

Coming back to circle, as you cry out. Watching you as he presses again, even ounce of his concentration on you.

“Like this?”

Another messy circle, as he fills you. Drawing back as his cock shines with your slick. Taking him to the hilt as his fingers press again.

“Yes.” Your breathe, “Harder.”

There’s the slightest increase in pressure, but it’s enough. His eyes dark, almost black as he watches you take your pleasure.

The tilt of your head as you try to reach his mouth. His lips brushing against yours as you open, letting his tongue slip inside.

Yours brush against his teeth again, those sharp points. Tasting your pussy on his tongue, tinged with the sharp tang of iron. Each breath more ragged, until he’s pulling back.

Not wanting to miss the way your lips form his name. The flutter of your eyelashes as you start to go stiff in his arms.

The soft “please, Din. Please, please-” before your vision is going dark, stars bursting behind your heavy eyelids.

Mirroring the ones painted on the ceiling above in gold, as your head tips back. The pleasure washing over you as he draws it out with the grind of his cock.

With the low murmur of his voice, sinful in your ear.

“Just look at you. Made for this, weren’t you?” He croons, “Made to come on my cock.”

And in this moment you think you were - as his lips pressing against your cheek, his next words softer, laced with emotion.

“Just like I was made for you.”

Overwhelming him as he feels each heady pulse, hearing each soft “oh” that rips from your chest.

Cradling you against him as his hips slow. Until he’s pressed to the hilt, enveloped in your heat. The last throbs of your pleasure waning as you drift back down from the clouds above.

You’re loose-limbed when he finally pulls from you. A little whine at the emptiness, before he’s flipping you over on your stomach.

His thighs bracketing yours, a hand guiding himself back into your slick heat. The other fisting in the blanket at he buries himself again, groaning at the tight clench of your cunt.

You had managed before - thighs spread to accommodate the stretch. But now - now, he’s all that you can feel.

Giving you what you had wanted, before. A slow pound that grows steady. Stealing your breath as each rock of his hips sends him deep, to where it feels like he’s in your belly.

A snarled out “fuck” when your hips rise to meet his thrusts, watching the bouncing sway of your ass.

Before his hand is flattening against the small of your back. Before he’s leaning forward, putting his weight on you as his hand shifts - sliding beneath your arm, curling between your breasts.

Fingers spreading to span the base of your throat, a gentle restraint as his lips skim your shoulder. As he inhales your scent, nosing against your neck.

“One more,” Din pants, with the snap of his hips. Groaning against your skin, feeling the thudding pulse beneath.

You make a sound - a moan of consent - too far gone, too hazy with your afterglow to form words.

He tastes it, when he bites down. The echo of your orgasm, sweetening your blood until it was akin to ambrosia.

A growl as you whimper, drawn into the feeling of his building release. The aching throb that feels like it starts in your belly, your muscles tightening as he spears himself deep, again and again.

Your pleasure spiking at the thought of his release. Of bringing him the same pleasure he’s brought you. Each of your breaths a needy pant as he cups your neck.

Unable to do more than take it, with his hand at your throat. With his teeth against your neck, hips slapping against yours until his rhythm grows sloppy.

His moan when he pulls back is ragged. Just as desperate as you feel, your thoughts melding and reverberating in and endless loop.

“You’re going to make me come,” He husks in your ear, “So fucking sweet, with your tight little pussy-”

It has you clenching around him. Your eyes close as you grasp for that connection, clinging to it.

“Want you to,” You beg, “Want your cum, want you to make me yours-”

Your name is sweet on his lips, as your words tip him over the edge. Thrusting once, then twice - grinding deep as he moans.

“Mine.” He growls, as the pleasure bursts - until you’re pulsing with him.

Little gasps as you feel him empty himself in you, the relief that courses through his limbs.As he feels your own, a ragged moan as you milk him dry. His hand leaving your throat to curl around your fingers.

Pushing himself up - rocking slowly into you until you’ve taken all of him. Until he is pulling back to look at how his cum wells up and drips from you, smearing against thighs that are slick with your arousal.

Thoroughly marking you as his. Just as you had asked.

When you can, you shift to make room. Flipping over - tucking against his chest as his arm curls around you, pulling you close.

Tendrils of thought still connect you, and you think you understand. What they had told you in the kitchen, those hushed whispers.

Your smile lazy, as your hand splays across Din’s chest.

You’ve never felt so spent.

And nothing has ever felt so right.

He wipes your skin clean, some time later. Fetching a dampened cloth to clean his spend from your skin and salve for the marks that litter your thighs and throat.

That sleepy, drained feeling from the first night coming back, laced with contentment that you’ve never known.

Fingers tracing over your skin. Around the littering of marks, feather-light in their careful and thorough exploration.

Watching the way your legs flex, when he reaches your inner thigh. His eyes sharp enough to catch the gleam against you skin, where you’re still wet from him. Filled with him.

A thumb sweeps across the sensitive skin, as your breath hitches. And he smiles, as he leans over you. A tongue licking against his bottom lip before he’s dipping down to kiss you, as his fingers sink inside.

This time, he’s greedy. The gentle pump of his fingers growing steady, already familiar with how to touch you. Focusing on each little sound as his chest heaves with a breath he no longer has - decades-old instinct that has never been forgotten.

Lips parted as he leans back to watch the pound of his fingers, sticky with your release and his. Thumb swiping across your clit, until you’re clawing at him.

Moaning as your hips arch off the bed, as he makes you his, one more time.

Sleep licks at you, after. As he eventually finishes his work, each mark carefully covered in salve.

Curling around you, his chest pressed against your back as your fingers lace with his, clutching it close to your chest.

Leaving him content to hold you, though feelings of sleep do not come as easily. The immediate rush of pleasure slowly ebbing, as worries work their way back in.

“I’m sure you felt…” He murmurs - the words slow, dying off. As if unsure how to explain the connection, the full brunt of emotions shared so openly.

How overwhelming they might be, for someone who had not known as long as he had.

You shift then, a head turning to meet his gaze.

“I don’t expect anything of you, cyar’ika.” He eventually manages. “This… this can be whatever you want.”

You do kiss him, now. Starting at his mark, pushing yourself up until you can press your lips against it. The rough sound in his throat as you kiss him there, the spot that joins you together.

Then that bare patch of hair against his jaw, the one you had longed to touch, those days ago.

And then, his mouth.

Tucking yourself under his chin after, as you nuzzle into his neck.

“I want you.”

Because you do, you know that now.

And just maybe you have, the entire time. Maybe your soul had known, had sensed that fated connection deep, deep down.

He has time on his side. Those months spent with his thoughts, his emotions. Those feelings blooming from the start, from the second Fennec ushered you into the castle.

And although you might not be there yet, you do know…

That your own heart isn’t too far behind.

cyar’ika - sweetheart | cyare - beloved | ner runi - my soul

We did it! Thank you so much for reading! This is the last chapter of their story (but I have been working on a little epilogue, with a peek into the future! It will be up in the next day or so). 💖 and thank you for all the support and truly kind comments, the encouragement was so appreciated and really helped me keep going! I’ll be reblogging comments and sending more thanks this weekend - I’ve been reading every one, and they have meant so much to me. Thank you so much again (and thank you once more to Laur and Sil for hosting this event - I don’t think I would have had the courage to try this, otherwise!) 🥀💕

(Tags: @dameron-grant-spector, @sugadolly, @writingsofestella, @spaceydragons, @-ohsolovely-, @survivingandenduring, @queenquazar, @alitaar, @dindjarinsslut, @creatureoftheunderworldd, @margowritesthings, @your-slutty-gf, @dindjarins-brown-eyed-girl, @lovers-liability, @swissy23)

#omg let’s try this again #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin imagine #hauntedhoedown #haunted hoedown

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ilovehugslikealotalot · 1 month

Text

Hold onto You

sum: Emily can’t help but love the one person that doesn’t want her

WARNING: Angst, reader x JJ for bit, jealous!emily, mentions of alcohol consumption, r and Emily live in the same complex, talks of engagement, wedding mentions, y/n injured in line of duty, hospital visits, undercover missions, Emily pretending she moved on, happy ending

(kinda fast paced, it was meant to be a series)

(Not proofread)

Based on Angelina by Lizzy McAlpine

It had been at least 3 days since y/n had come back to her home across from Emily’s. She’s been spending so much time with JJ that even the team is a little suspicious. Emily couldn’t stop the pit in her stomach that grew with each passing hour. Y/n would always come in around this time and take over the couch while she watched some movies.

Where did you go, Angelina? Why did you take my foolish heart?

Emily had called at least 17 times in the last hour and at least a couple dozen messages. She knew JJ was quite the charmer, but she was scared of losing her, the one person she wanted bad. She’s had this crush for years now, ever since she joined the team she’s never looked at anyone else the same as she saw y/n. Sure, a few flings here and there but nothing could satify her.

She needed only one person. And that person wasn’t here.

Emily should’ve known that in the end it would be JJ. She just hoped and prayed that there would be some miracle that this event wouldn’t happen. But, of course, hope’s what kills you. She stood outside on he balcony breathing in the slightly smoky air. She hated how good you two looked so good together how it looked like they just fit together time two puzzle pieces.

She hated how JJ could make you laugh with a glance

She hated how y/n just tossed her aside

She hated how they looked at each other like they’re in love

She hated.

I should've known, Angelina I was never right for that part

Emily couldn’t stop that nauseous feeling when JJ and y/n walked in and laughed together hand in hand. Now that she was back from Interpol, she was so excited to finally talk to her, but clearly she had other plans. Heads whipped to Emily to see how she would react. But she remained stoic never even flinching. She’s endured many heartbreaks but this one was different.

With each passing day they grew farther apart, with Emily withdrawing the most, of course this upset y/n too. Because she also had quite the feelings for Emily. So, all y/n could do was fall I got the arms of JJ.

“You seem distant, Em, are you sure you’re okay?” Y/n asked, hoping and praying that she wasn’t the problem. The annoyed expression that Emily gave her said other wise though. The dark haired woman just scoffed and walked away, little did she know, she had a chance, and right now she was ruining it. She knew what she lost, she just didn’t know she hadn’t lost it just yet. So, as more time passed, Emily had made even more of a mess, exploding at a few members of the team one significant case.

“I said I got him! Y/n, come with me, I know he’s here.” Emily sternly stated, the team was spread around an enormous mansion, their unsub was somewhere in one of the secret rooms. Every single one was checked except for the one Emily and Y/n were closest too.

“Emily, he will be aggressive once we open that door, he’ll shoot as soon as he sees it move.” Y/n tried to reason with Emily, but she was too focused on revenge. The unsub had tried to target y/n of all people on the team and it pissed the older woman off. a lot.

Emily stood down and nodded her head, “you’re right, we should wait for reinforce-“

“EMILY!”

BANG.

Out of instinct, Emily wrapped her arms the younger woman and fired back the unsub behind them. Turns out, he wasn’t even in one of the concealed rooms, he was right under the desk. She shot him straight in the neck, she didn’t even hesitate.

But, y/n was growing limp in her arms and she was growing worried. Looking down, y/n’s mouth was spilling out blood. Her eyes slowly closing with each passing second, Emily cursed at herself and cradled the woman she loved so desperately in her arms. “You’re gonna be okay, keep your eyes open” She screamed in the comms, with out a moment to waste she sprinted out of the office and ran down the stairs, knowing the medics were already outside.

“We have a dead Unsub in the West Wing and an agent down!” She screamed into the comms, they all replied, moving toward the office being cautious of any other partners he may have in the mansion.

Emily felt a lump in her throat as they took y/n away, JJ raced out trying to get to y/n. “Agent, only immediate family is allowed”

“I’m her girlfriend, now, let me in.” They finally agreed, knowing she wouldn’t let it go. Emily felt her stomach drop, her what? No, no, no, this wasn’t supposed to happen! But she expected it from the moment she found out that y/n had been sleeping at JJ’s more frequently. That still didn’t get rid of the dread and anger she felt.

Tara stood behind her placing a hand on her shoulder, when she needed somebody she confided in Tara. With the new promotion Emily got, she seemed to be more on edge than ever. “They’ve been dating since you left for Interpol, but y/n still liked you then, Em”

She fought back tears that threatened to fall. “I’ve never wanted someone so badly” she whispered, as the ambulance sirens grew farther away, the lights soon disappearing. The life she could’ve had leaving with it.

Emily had never felt more alone than when she saw JJ sitting on y/n’s bed, the two looked smitten as they smiled, laughing about who knows what, she stood outside watching as JJ kissed her so sweetly even Emily got a tooth ache. As y/n lifted her hand to JJ’s face, Emily saw a stone glitter under the bright light. That’s when she knew.

Oh, so I guess the wedding I'll never be getting Will live in the back of my mind

———

JJ had walked into the bullpen second, right after Emily, that morning looking tired, Emily walked up to her and smirked, trying to lighten the mood for her. As much as she wanted y/n she couldn’t get in the way of her happiness.

“Long night with the missus, huh?” Emily chuckled leaning against JJ’s desk, “Yeah, we broke up, on good terms but still hurt y’know”

Emily could’ve screamed, she stood with her mouth ajar, a little hope bubbling in her chest, but she couldn’t do that to JJ. She wouldn’t just sweep y/n off her feet the moment she was available.

“She said it was because of a classified mission she was offered to do” JJ bit her lip, “Plus, we already were looking at other people before so, we’re just good friends” Emily thoughts stopped at the mention of a ‘classified mission’. She wasn’t notified that any of her agents would be going on any projects.

Without saying another word, Emily immediately went up to her office going through her files trying to find some thing, anything that she missed. It was only then when a knock sounded from her door that she felt her stomach drop, it now felt like an all too familiar feeling.

Y/n didn’t need to say anything, she knew from Emily’s facial expressions. She wasn’t exactly the best at hiding it from her of all people. There was no need for verbal exchanges, it was just them, for once, it was just them.

“I’m sorry. I leave tomorrow.” She apologized, lowering her eyes, clutching her necklace to her chest. “I know how much pain I’m causing you, I thought it would be better this way. We would be better this way.”

I never loved you more than when you said goodbye 'Cause maybe I knew that love wasn't honest if you had to lie I never loved you more than when you walked away 'Cause maybe I knew, Angelina, you'd never stay

She couldn’t forget that last kiss to the cheek. The last wave goodbye and the empty feeling once she was finally gone.

The mission allowed Emily to rethink about what has happened since her return from Interpol and her new position as Unit Chief. As much as she loved y/n, she couldn’t live her life in sorrow. So, she moved on.

Much to Tara’s surprise, one night might’ve changed it all. The abrupt phone call wasn’t abnormal especially from Emily. But, it was quite late. “Em? What is so urgent that you FaceTime me at the ripe hour of 11:49?” She questioned, walking into the living and turning on a lamp, her girlfriend, Abby was fast asleep in their bedroom, so Tara had a hushed tone.

“I need to tell you. I’ve moved on, from y/n, I mean” Emily said, but there was a hint of sadness to it. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I found someone, she’s sweet and she’s not y/n, but it’s better than nothing” She grinned, it had been almost 7 months and y/n hadn’t returned from her mission.

It had been a grueling 7 months at that, Emily felt like her heart had been ripped out and placed back, every time. Now, it had been ripped out again, but it never came back, she felt an emptiness where it was supposed to be. She’d spend more time doing nothing in her room than actually doing anything. It seemed like she wasn’t there, she was just a fog that wandered the earth.

People would tell her that she can’t be acting like someone just died, but she couldn’t help it. She was grieving the life she wanted to have. All she needed was y/n. She would gladly sacrifice anything for her. There was nothing she wouldn’t do.

She waited for weeks, months, but not a word from y/n. She stayed up at night wondering if she was okay, alive, even.

Are you coming home, Angelina?

She waited for a long time, until she meant Margot. She looked like y/n so it was easy to pretend. She knew it was wrong, she knew that leading her on wasn’t right. Yet, she still did it.

So, they dated, they had a good enough relationship to where Emily started to stop seeing y/n in Margot. She was content, she was okay with what she had.

I think I'm done trying to hold on to you

It wasn’t long after that y/n had returned a couple bruises and scratches, and the first person she fled to was Emily. It was like all the walls she had built up again came crashing back down and Tara knew, out of everyone who was in the Bullpen, she knew.

It wasn’t until then that they realized how much Margot looked like y/n, it was an almost perfect comparison. But in the end, Emily would always pick y/n. It was like their souls were always destined to meet each other no matter where they went, in any universe they’d find each other in life and death. But, it just seemed like in this one they couldn’t work out.

I think you should know, Angelina

The team was out celebrating after a big case, one where everyone brought their beloved, and to everyone’s surprise Emily had brought Margot. They were all throughly impressed at how dedicated she was to moving on, but deep down, Emily would’ve switched in a heart beat. She felt a deep regret about how she was leading Margot on, the void in her heart was too deep to fill.

So, she grabbed what she could and stuffed it in her heart pretending that she was fine with it.

From afar, as she did for the longest time, she watched y/n. Her chest tightening at that sickly sweet laugh. Emily wanted so badly to just walk over there and talk to her, but she felt as if what they had was already too far gone.

That I'd probably fall again if you wanted me to

“You know, Emily, I…I love you..”

And she said I love you so I said it back

“I love you too, y/- uh-, Margot” Emily plastered a smile on her face, one that Margot knew was fake, even she could see it from a mile, even she realized faster than the two combined.

But I wished she was you

“I thought you’d screw up and almost say her name, Em. You love her just say so, I could see it from the moment she’s in the room.” Emily lowered her head, knowing the lecture she was about to receive was too true.

“You aren’t mine. You were never mine, and…I’m okay with that”

“Go love her.”

————

Emily shivered in the rain, her hair soaked as she sprinted up the stairs and banging on y/n’s front door, she desperately hoped she wasn’t too late. After all, that’s all she’s been doing anyway, desperately hoping.

She wrapped her arms around herself, she could just turn around and walk into her own apartment. But she stood her ground and waited, as she door lock clicked open, it revealed the face that Emily needed to see that whole night.

“Em? You’re soaking! Why aren’t you home? You’ll catch a cold, get in here!” Y/n exclaimed, stepping aside to let her inside and lock the door behind her. “You are home..” Emily mumbled weakly, her tears now mixing with the rain on her cheeks, “what?” “Maybe I should call Margot, are you drunk?” Y/n quipped, placing her on the couch and running to grab some fresh clothes and a towel.

“No! Don’t call her!” Emily pleaded, her eyes bloodshot as she stared up at the woman she loved so dearly.

Y/n simply nodded and gave Emily her peace as she changed. It was quiet in the apartment, it was big, so big in fact it felt lonely. Like there hadn’t been company in a long while. The couch dipped next to her, she didn’t dare look at y/n. “I know that you don’t like me anymore, but you can talk to me I’ve always wanted you”

“Then why date JJ? Why did you leave me?” Emily snapped back

“Because you took up every fiber of my being, so much so that I couldn’t even do my job right! Then, when it got too much, to the point I couldn’t be in the same room as you, unless I wanted to feel like my heart was being ripped out of my chest. That’s why I left.” Y/n voiced filled with anguish, her stomach doing flips as her tears steamed down her face.

“Y/n…I love you..” Emily mumbled, but y/n heard her all too clearly, her breath caught in her throat. “You have Margot..don’t do this to me, Emily. Not now.”

The desperation that Emily felt now was nothing compared to when y/n first got with JJ. “No, I broke up with her, I couldn’t keep pretending she was you! No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t keep myself from wanting you.”

Y/n sniffled, she wanted Emily so bad, but she’d been hurt so many times. Yet, you could never know if you didn’t try.

“Then, I suppose we could try us”

———

This was in my drafts for a while! Thought I might as well post!

#Spotify #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #criminal minds #paget brewster #jj x reader #jennifer jareau #aj cook

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pankowperfection · 1 year

Text

Payback

Summary: You piss off JJ and he takes revenge

Warnings: dark!JJ, rough sex, bondage, dubcon, hair pulling, 18+

Kooks vs Pogues, a story as old as the island itself. Lucky for you, you've been blessed with the good life. Growing up on the right side of town, never knowing what it was like to not get exactly what you wanted. Nothing seemed out of your reach, except for him.

Every girl in the Outer Banks wanted JJ Maybank, yourself included. You spent many nights toying with yourself, imagining the sharp lines of his jaw buried between your thighs. You always attempted to flirt with him when you were at the Island Club, wearing the skimpiest outfits possible and savoring the way his eyes couldn't resist focusing on your curves.

He hated you, simply because you were a kook and the fact really pissed you off. No one told you no, and you were willing to do whatever it took to get his attention.

Friday night at the club was going as usual, you and your friends sharing countless drinks while you talked about everything under the sun. The more the alcohol buzzed in your system, the more the damp spot in your panties grew from watching the blonde boy.

Everything he did was effortlessly sexy. How could someone looks so hot carrying a tray of cocktails? Your gaze flicked to him whenever possible, trying to stay under the radar of your judgemental friends. They wouldn't understand your obsession with someone like JJ.

Finally, you decide to make a move. "Excuse me, I'd like to speak to your manager." You watched the blood drain from his face, adams apple bobbing in his throat as he schooled his expression before answering.

"Of course ma'am, let me go get him."

Your friends giggle, thinking you just want to cause him some trouble, unaware of your ulterior motives.

"Hi, what can I do for you?" The manager looks stressed, realizing exactly who you were and knowing the implications of upsetting your family.

"Well, you see, the service has been pretty poor. We have to keep requesting another round, rather than our drinks being refilled before our glasses are empty. And I really don't appreciate how Maybank here has been looking at me all night. I want him gone."

The manager sighs, turning to JJ who was standing just behind him watching the scene unfold. "I'm sorry JJ, but you need to go. Can't have you upsetting my customers."

Before he storms off he fixes you with a hard stare, almost a warning of what is to come.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As you stumble into your posh apartment, you don't notice the dark presence in the room. You toe off your heels, leaving them by the door and making your way into the kitchen for a glass of water. As you reach for the light switch, a strong hand clamps down over your mouth. Before you get the chance to elbow your attacker, his arm wraps around your body, trapping you against him.

"Hi sweetheart. You really thought you could get away with that, didn't you?"

Your heart hammers hard in your chest, adrenaline mixing with arousal as electricity shoots through your system. The scent of salty air mixed with something that is uniquely him fills the air, your body responding to how he feels pressed so tightly against you.

"I think it's only fair that I get something in return. A little payback." He forces you to turn, slamming you down onto the cool stone of the island. He quickly ties your wrists together behind your back, thick rope making your skin burn as you attempt to free yourself.

"JJ stop." Your protest sounds weak even to you, battling with your mind about how much your body wanted this.

Suddenly his bandana is in your face, roughly pushed between your lips and tied behind your head. "Shhh. The only thing I want to hear out of you is moans and whimpers. Besides, you don't really want me to stop, do you?"

The rough pads of his fingers trail up the inside of your thigh, your clit pulsing as he gets closer to your core. Your back arches, trying to get his hand where you need him most. He chuckles darkly, pulling away at the last second and leaving you panting for more.

You tense at the sound of his zipper, unable to turn around and catch a glimpse of his cock. He gives you no warning at all before burying himself balls deep inside you in one thrust. You scream at the stretch, sound slightly muffled by his makeshift gag. He's bigger than anyone you've ever had, each twitch of his cock making your walls burn.

"God damn, so fucking tight," he grits out between his teeth. He winds one hand into your hair, pulling hard to make your back arch further while your scalp sears with pain. His thick cock surges impossibly deeper, forcing you up onto your toes as he nudges your cervix.

His free hand grips your bound wrists, withdrawing slowly before slamming back inside. You can't help the loud moan that escapes your lips, the way he feels filling you up driving you wild. He uses you for leverage, setting a brutal pace that makes you see stars.

"That's it cupcake. Not so bitchy when you're drunk on my cock are you?" He lets go of your hair and you collapse onto the marble, band tightening in your stomach as he uses your body for his pleasure.

Broken moans spill from your lips as you teeter on the edge of your high, needing more to get across that line. He stops abruptly, manhandling you onto your back with your legs dangling off the counter. "Wanna see your face when you cum for me, want you to watch my cock destroy you."

The moonlight filtering through the window highlights his sharp features, the sweat dripping from his brow making drool pool underneath your tongue. You wished you could taste him, craving the feeling of his cock on your tongue. He breaks you out of your trance as his hands rake up your thighs, nails biting into your skin and making you bite back a groan.

When he lines up his cock with your entrance, his thumb brushes over your clit. You attempt to plead with him for more, struggling to speak around your gag. This time he pushes in slowly, both of you entranced by how your bodies are joined together.

His thrusts are slow but extremely deep, throwing your legs over each of his shoulders so he can get a better angle. He reaches down and pulls down the bandana before crashing his lips to yours, forcing his tongue into your mouth before biting down hard on your bottom lip. You taste the metallic tang of blood before he pulls away with a grin, tinge of red glinting on his lips.

"J please. I need more."

"Whatever you say princess." He wraps his dominant hand around your throat, pressing just enough to make your pleasure double. The speed of his thrusts starts to pick up, his fingers expertly massaging your clit.

"Oh god, please don't stop." Your legs start to shake as your high approaches. JJ releases your throat at the last second, your cries filling the room as you gush over his cock. He fucks you through it, his pace faltering as you feel him pulse inside you before filling you with his cum.

When he withdraws you wince, slight red tint glistening on his cock from his roughness. He grabs a towel to wipe himself off, silently tucking himself away and straightening the rest of his clothes.

You watch as he heads for the door, panic slowly setting in at your vulnerable position. "Aren't you gonna untie me?"

"Nah - you can sort that out yourself. Next time you fuck with me, I'll make sure your punishment is worse. Oh, and you're mine now. Don't touch anyone else, I'll know."

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