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sp00kymulderr · 6 months

Text

part 3 - Afterburn

series masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x afab reader (no pronouns)

Warnings: 18+, cursing, details of grief, survivors guilt, dealing with emotions badly, reader is dealing with death of a loved one, general sadness, kissing, m masturbation, premature ejaculation, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving). Please let me know if I missed any.

Word Count: 5.6k

Summary: “Do you remember what it’s like to be happy?”

A/N: I'm sorry it's taken so long to post. I'm really proud of this one. If you like it please please comment and/or reblog. To follow for fic updates only go to @sp00kyupdates or see taglist details on my masterlist. Credit to banner/divider maker.

Joel is not the same after you return from your short shower. Your packs are waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs as he stands by the door scanning the horizon, an impatient tut leaves him.

“We gotta go, you ready?” He grunts, not even bothering to look at you.

“Joel c’mon…” You respond, your voice a little hoarse.

“Just-” Joel snaps and then sighs, finishing the rest of the sentence in a slightly softer tone “Grab your stuff. Put on your boots”

He shoulders his pack and walks out the door, waiting on the porch. You mutter your frustration. He isn’t being fair and you’re pretty sure he knows it too. You want to understand why this is such a bad thing - the two of you - but he doesn’t seem to want to even acknowledge what happened.

You sit on the sagging couch and look once more around the old house. It’s always difficult to come to these places, but somehow it’s also difficult to leave them. Someone lived here, someone loved here, someone was happy here once – you hope at least. You look around the dusty living room once more and contemplate, as you always do. What has this place seen, what kind of people called it a home? What secrets does it keep?

Those thoughts bring you to your own home too, where you’d been until the outbreak. You’d never gone back but you’d often thought of returning, seeing if anything of your old life still existed. Since you’d lost your last connection to your past.

You shake your head and pull on the new boots lacing them tight, ready to put them to the test at least. Joel is waiting for you outside when you finally make your way to him and he’s already walking, apparently sure of the direction.

You follow in silence for a while. Your feet don’t hurt as bad as before and you’re grateful for that.

“Did you ever go home, Joel?” You ask eventually, hesitant.

“Huh?” he’s only half listening to you, looking around for any signs of imminent threat.

“You ever go back to your old home?”

“No” is all he says.

You leave it at that.

The last thing Joel wants to think about is home. Home is where his broken heart is. He’d never go back there, he’d pull the memory completely from his head if he could.

There’s a lot of memories he wishes he didn’t have to have.

And now he has a new one; his head feels so all over the place because of you and your lips, your warmth, the disquieting solace he found in you. He knows he shouldn’t punish you for any of it; for what happened, for how he feels, for how he doesn’t understand his feelings. But he’s already punishing himself for everything else that’s ever happened, so you’ll have to take the brunt of this mistake.

And it was a mistake, he knows that. You don’t want him the way you think you do. He’s sure of it. It’s not about anything more than forgetting for you, for finding some distraction from your pain. He knows it too well. He’s been there. He’s still there in a way but at least after all these years he knows better than to chase that feeling. He has to keep away, help you know better too.

“Keep up” He mutters as he looks back at you, and he knows he sounds harsh but he can’t stop himself.

That deceitful monster in him wants more. He feels it. He won’t give in to it.

When you were younger you used to run free and happy in the green garden outside your house. You would spend all your time outside, climbing trees, scaling rocks, swimming in the lake by the forest. You had a treehouse in the garden and you'd climb up to it every summer night and watch the world from up there, free and happy and something more.

Alive in more ways than just surviving.

She'd been with you even then, you'd share secrets and tell stories cuddled up in your sleeping bags in the treehouse at night together. You lived for those moments when you and your best friend would live in your own world and everything else was just background noise.

Now you're climbing trees and scaling rocks but not for the same reasons the innocent child of your past would. You have to scope out the land, find a good place to stop. Joel helps boost you up to a branch so you can climb, to check out some noise in the distance of the forest, and when you snag your shirt on a twig you have this pang of gut-wrenching muscle memory of that time she fell from the treehouse and you thought for a moment of blind panic that you'd lost her.

You hate that every single thing reminds you of her. You despise the memories for making you misty eyed and weak. The more Joel ignores you as the time goes on, the worse it gets. The more you remember, the more everything reminds you of your dead best friend and the lives you'd lost to this world of horrors. Your life next, you know. That’s all there is now.

Just you.

And Joel.

Joel, who was pulling away more and more with every passing second. His hesitant gaze on you lands regretful and forlorn.

Eventually up in the tree you're able to see far enough to know there's a camp of people further down the forest, so when you’re back down Joel decides on a detour that leads you both far in the opposite direction not wanting to take any risks. Your new boots are finally starting to rub after hours and hours of walking - nothing good lasts forever. You wonder if the person they belonged to before you ever got to wear them, if you shared the pain of blisters from the same shoes. If the people in that house used to go hiking in this vast forest every weekend. You wonder if they are dead now too, or just trying desperately to survive. Are they trying to make it back to their home, to find the memories they’d left behind?

You'd go home. You would. If you ever could. It's too far now, too dangerous and too much to ever think you could make it there. Besides, what would you do when you got there? Hope you had anything of yours left? Let yourself drown in the pain of distant memories, of things you knew you’d never get back? But there were things, all these trinkets you wanted to hold to your heart now you have nothing else. Photos; pictures printed and framed or posted on your walls with sticky tack since you were a teenager. Family and friends and pets and all the things you have lost. The things you’d never, ever get back.

The silence consumes you and you think you’d rather wallow in your grief and misery back at the place where you were once happy, instead of being here where your longing and guilt are driving you to insanity with every ticking second. You miss talking, you miss having a friend. She was everything you ever needed in life, she was the only thing that had made you happy in the years since the world ended. You need that, and you know Joel won’t give you any of the things you need. He doesn’t want to know you any more than he has now. You can’t see past his actions back at the house and he can’t see you in any way other than shamefully anymore.

You don’t even know what to say to him now. So you just walk, and ignore the aching and misery consuming you whole.

It’s a few hours later and your feet are starting to bleed through your socks, because all good things must come to an end in this empty horror of a world. Joel finally decides it’s time to stop and make camp. It’s getting dark after all and there’s the opportunity for cover while you’re still under the protection of the vast forest - you’re nearly at the edge now.

“This should work” he mutters more to himself than you as he looks over the spot you’ve stopped at.

He briefly glances at you and it’s nothing but it’s more than he’s given you in hours so it makes you feel a little glint of that spark from before again. What if you just kissed him again, the way he let you before? Would he stop you? You know he likely would, but it doesn’t stop you wanting to try.

Like he knows, he’s stepping further from you acting like he’s inspecting the site he’s picked. There’s nothing to inspect - it’s a patch of mossy forest floor with a large rock on one side and what looks like an ancient tree on the other. You watch him momentarily and feel that misery all over. Touch would solve it all. His touch would solve everything just like it did before. The darkness above the trees could hold a secret if he could just give you something, a tiny thing to keep your sadness at bay.

And yet you are both wordless as you set up the small camp; no fire - that would potentially draw attention and the woods are never an entirely safe place to be - just your sleeping bags set up with an arm's length between the two like he’s worried you’ll somehow get the wrong idea if he gives you even the possibility of touching him again.

“Here” He mutters when you’re both sitting down and you almost laugh with the ridiculousness of how hard he’s trying to not even give you his gaze anymore. He hands you some of the jerky that’s been wrapped in his pack for a while. It’s dry and hard.

“We got all that stuff from the house”

“Gonna split it, when we…” He mutters without finishing his sentence.

“Oh”

When we go our separate ways. That’s what he meant and he doesn’t have to say it. He’s gonna leave you. Leave you completely alone.

“You know where you’re gonna go?” Joel asks and maybe there’s the hint of guilt in his voice but more likely you’re imagining it.

Tears prick hot in your eyes and you try to blink them away. All this time you’d done so well at not letting him see you cry; the tears from your loss and your grief had only once fallen in his sight and now you were feeling them fall down your cheeks right in front of him all because he was finally sending you on your way.

Stupid. You’re so stupid. It was only ever temporary and he’d made it so clear he didn’t want anything from you. He was just doing a sad, lost person a momentary favor but you’d lost sight of that completely after these last couple days. The way he had kissed you…the way you know it would’ve gone further yesterday if there hadn’t been an interruption…but none of it means a thing in the wake of his words.

He’s looking at you now. Of course this would be the moment he finally decides to turn those beautiful eyes back on you - you can feel the weight of his gaze on your face and you want it to be dark and lustful like before but when you look over at him he’s frowning. You sniffle and clear your throat, and finally give him an answer.

“I- I want to go home” You say so sadly and his brow knits in confusion for a moment before he understands.

“You think that’s a good idea?” Joel sounds more judgemental than he probably means to. He’s still watching you, but he never addresses the tears that are silently falling from your sad eyes.

You shake your head and sigh. Chewing on the last of the jerky for a bit and it makes you feel sick. His gaze burns you now, like it’s melting through the cold of him ignoring you all day and scorching at your flesh. Why won’t he stop staring? Why suddenly is he so intent on giving you all this attention? Does he just pity you that much?

He’s still eating slowly when you lie down on your sleeping bag, staring up at the trees and the night sky just above them. You’d spent nights like this watching the stars before - your heart pangs at the memory and you feel bile rise up in your throat for a moment before you screw your eyes shut tight enough to see the dance of colourful light behind your lids.

“Do you remember what it’s like to be happy?” Your voice is a whisper, it shakes as you shove that memory back down.

You open your eyes and turn your head in time to see Joel's sudden pained look and the shake of his head. You can feel the misery around him like it’s an aura. That only makes your heart hurt more. Damn it, why does he have to make you feel more? It’s always those eyes; he can make himself as hard and distant as he wants but his beautiful brown eyes betray him every single time

“Yeah. Well, I do. I remember. I remember living” If it wasn’t clear you were crying before it’s obvious you are now, you sniffle and wipe tears that race from the corners of your eyes into your hair.

Joel remains quiet for a while after that. Perhaps he just doesn’t know what to say, or perhaps he’s trying not to comfort you. The trees above the two of you wave gently in a breeze that rushes quietly through the forest, and the stars above them shine like they always have - unchanged by the death of this world and the screaming of your souls. Between you and Joel there is a blanket of grief and despair and both of you seem to be wrapping yourselves tighter in it at every turn.

Eventually he clears his throat and there’s a slight shift in Joel’s body, angling more towards you. It makes you bolder - like before - and you reach your hand between your two sleeping bags. Just lay it there between the two of you.

“I don’t want to remember, Joel. Not right now. I just want to feel something else”

He rubs his watering eyes and sighs deeply. He is wavering, you can tell. He’s holding back but there’s the twitch of his hands as he looks at you lying there and he slowly reaches out - rough, calloused and warm hand encompassing yours slowly. He lets out a long breath.

“It’s not gonna help. I- I’m not gonna help you like you need. Nothing’s that simple. I should know…”

“You’re scared”

“Maybe” Joel shrugs.

His hand holds yours a little tighter. You’re still crying silent tears that glisten on your face in the starlight.

“Don’t you feel alone? Don’t you just feel so fucking alone all the time? Why do we have to feel alone, when we’re here together?” You’re actually pleading now. It’s pathetic really but you just need the incessant heartache to stop for even a moment.

Joel hums low and gives you a long stare. His eyes soften more. There’s a shred more sympathy than there has been and it’s enough for your body to ignite with that burning hope just like last time.

“Fuck” He mutters, and then “Come here” and he is letting go of your hand and laying on his side on the sleeping bag, it seems reluctant but he’s inviting you to him and you’re almost embarrassed when you move in a heartbeat and close that gap between you and him.

Your breath catches when you lie beside him on your side and his body curls around yours, his arm over you and he holds your hand again. He’s warm like a comforting blanket - it feels almost like he’s protecting you the way he holds you close. It’s the closest you’ve ever been; even when he’d kissed you, when he’d touched you he’d kept a distance. You had never gotten to feel all of his body against you like this. Only in your hopeless dreaming. His breath tickles on the back of your neck and the warmth of it lingers, his heart beating steady where his chest presses against your back. He lets out a nearly silent sigh that makes you think he’s feeling the same thing as you.

You are not alone.

For a while it’s nothing, and Joel starts to think you’re sleeping. Your breathing is steady just like his and those sweet little sighs could just be the slumber taking hold. You don’t move and he’s so afraid to make even the slightest change to the position lest he starts you on that downward spiral again.

He knows it’s a mistake. Such a big mistake to let you feel close to him. It is only going to make everything worse in the long run but your words ring so true in his mind - he has been so damn alone. Ever since…for too long. He’s been alone. You draw him in like a magnet; a strange and shameful comfort that he’s denied himself all these years.

Maybe it’ll be fine. Maybe it’ll just be this, nothing more and nothing less. No guilt. No attachment. Maybe you’ll leave willingly and he’ll never once think about this moment again and neither will you. Maybe.

He murmurs your name softly and buries his face against your neck. He just wants to feel. Something. It’s wrong. He’s leading you on. But he wants to escape his loneliness just as much as you want to escape your pain.

He hears the smallest moan escape you like a breath and it makes him tighten his arm around you a little, because it brings him back to what happened before. How he’d touched you, how he’d felt you. There’s a stirring in him at the memory. You both feel it.

Joel knows you’re not asleep now, your breathing is less steady and your hand squeezes his a little.

“Don’t let me feel alone” You murmur and fuck Joel wants to let that base part of himself take control all over again.

He hesitates but only for a second.

“I won’t”

And then he’s turning your head, and he’s kissing you.

There’s a moment of guilt that rises from your chest slowly, but it’s gone again the moment your lips meet his.

It's not like the first kiss. It's not even like the kisses in the kitchen when he'd pressed you up against the fridge and touched you. It's not like any kiss you've ever felt; it's urgent and desperate but not forceful or rough - there's a subtle tenderness behind it like he's really genuinely trying to give you that feeling of togetherness you crave so much.

It makes your mind go blank after a moment, when you feel his tongue and he’s asking for a permission which you grant without a moment of hesitation. It makes you forget where you are, who you are, what you've been through.

He's good at that. Making you forget.

He's good at it all.

He kisses you harder when you open your mouth to him and it turns from tender to intense. It becomes more. More and more of him and you and it's what you've thought about all day. Like he really wants you. You're still on your side with your head turned and him over you, your back pressed against his chest and his subtle shift of hips against your ass makes your breath hitch.

Oh, he wants you. And you want him.

And what else matters?

“Joel…” you whimper. Sickly sweet and full of urgency.

“Yeah, I know,” He says.

There’s something else there, something you don’t want to hear. Something he doesn’t want to share. He shakes it away in a moment of a blink. He’s well versed in brushing away those moments. You need to learn it from him.

“I know” He says again, and he kisses you once more. Your lips lock in a moment that fans the flames that have been burning all this time; these weeks the two of you have been traveling together, these moments you have been sharing that are more than just moments. He stokes the coals of your desire with his mouth on yours and then down, down. To your cheek, your jaw, he’s over you and pressing you on to your back half on the cold ground as his lips meet your neck and you keen in some kind of desperation to be alight with his touch again.

Your hands traverse the broad expanse of his chest, clinging to the rough fabric of his shirt as he kisses the spot right under your ear that makes your soul leave you for a moment.

“You won’t stop this time?” You ponder, looking for a promise

“No”.

Simple, straight. Joel. He needs it. You know it’s been a while, you can tell by the way his hot mouth latches on to your soft flesh as he ruts against you like he’s already chasing a release he’s waited too long for.

“Doesn’t mean anythin’, right?”

“Doesn’t mean anything,” you repeat.

He means it. Do you?

“Fuck” He groans, deep and guttural when your wandering hands reach lower. It’s all so urgent. There’s no moment for softness. It’s lustful and intentional and greedy. Teeth and nails and need. No moment to waste as your nimble fingers find the opening of his faded jeans and make their way inside.

He’s still exploring with demanding grunts of appreciation at the taste of your skin. He’d liked it before. He likes it more now, after the long day of toil. You’re intoxicating in all the ways he never knew how to resist.

You think he feels the same as you. It’s been so long. You can’t remember the last time you felt such intimate touch, before Joel. It’s more addicting now than it ever was back then as his fingertips dance with burning brushes against the skin under your shirt.

There are no memories. No pain. No distant threat. No trees. No breeze. No stars. Just him and you in this blank space you have created for yourselves - outside of time and reality. It is a kiss that takes away life, that takes away loneliness. His touch breathes hope into you that you’d only ever felt with…no. It’s just him and you and nothing else.

Just that.

Your fingers trace down, past where buttons are undone and the zipper is open. You touch him, a slight squeeze that makes his breath hitch so damn gorgeously you feel it in your core.

He’s big. God, he’s big and he’s hard and it’s for you. It’s for you.

He breathes out and grits his teeth as you feel him, he has to stop kissing you for a moment as you ease his pants down and free his hardened length from its confines. He’s not gonna tell you to stop. Neither of you are going to end this until it has to be ended, you know that when you look in his eyes and they are dazed with lust and desire that he’s been holding back for too long.

There’s no call for modesty here in this darkened patch of forest floor where the only sounds are the rustle of leaves and your panting breaths. He watches you with a knitted brow trying so goddamn hard to hold on to at least a bit of himself when you lewdly spit into your hand and wrap it around his thick length.

“Shit” Joel grits his teeth, pressing his forehead against your shoulder. He murmurs your name. It’s never sounded as good as it does when spoken by him like that. Your hand moves, thumb swiping his leaking tip to smear on him. He feels good in your hand, heavy and smooth and he’s already shaking.

“I…sweetheart, I can’t…”

“Yeah, you can” You shush him with your lips against his, oddly soft and caring in this moment of heady lust.

“No I mean it’s…fuck” Joel pants out, his voice a gruff whisper that tickles your skin and makes you clench “Haven’t had- I can’t fu-” words tumble from his lips to the side of your neck as he devolves into mumbles you can’t quite make out. He trembles and bites back a loud groan, before spilling warm and sticky onto your fingers.

“Sorry” He murmurs with heavy breath and it’s the sweetest fucking thing in the world from this man who has been pushing you away for what feels like eternity.

Ah, you make sense of the words now.

“Haven’t had anyone touch you in a while?” You say, biting your lip as you look at him - he takes your breath away as the moonlight catches on the glint of his eyes, the trickle of sweat down his brow. His eyes are big and brown and there’s an apology in them that you don’t need.

“It’s okay. It’s okay” You assure with a soft smile. You kiss him, a sweet peck on the lips which he returns with another. It feels almost too intimate and you know you’re falling to somewhere you can’t crawl out of.

For a beat there’s a silence; Joel zips his fly and is catching his breath after his release whilst you drag your lips from his and down to his chin then his jaw. Drowning in the scent and taste of him. He is like nothing you’ve ever known and you want to be devoured by his presence.

You’re making do with wiping your hand off on your trousers when he moves you, pressing you down on to your back fully. There’s a hunger in him. He is starved and he craves. You shiver at that; he can slip from one moment to another like a changeling. His demeanour seems to shift with the wind.

“Gonna make it up to you, darlin’” He whispers with a dark desire as he goes back to kissing your neck and his hand moves down your body and to the button of your pants. Your mind flashes back to before - the way he’d made you shake back in the house - and your cunt throbs with need for that again. For him to take away your mind and your breath and your sanity if he wants.

You need him in ways you cannot fathom.

“Oh god” You moan as he cups you through your underwear, mouth still attacking the curve where your neck meets your shoulder.

You’re ready to feel that way again. And you’re about to beg him not to tease you when he pulls his hand away and detaches from your neck.

“Joel” the whine is so needy you should be embarrassed but you’re not capable of feeling that at the moment.

He shushes you softly and finishes unfastening your jeans, as he kneels between your legs. And then he’s taking them off; your jeans and underwear pulled down to your ankles and off, tossed to the side. He’s a man on a mission, and he licks his lips as he nudges your legs apart further and looks down at you.

Fuck. You might come from the sight alone. God…is he going to…

Joels calloused hands slide up your thighs and to your lower stomach and he settles himself right between your spread legs. You can’t look at him down there like that.

“This okay?” He asks, holding on to your thigh with one large hand while the other slips up under your shirt to palm at your warm skin.

You have to let out a huffed laugh at that. It’s definitely okay. It’s more than okay.

“Mhm” You answer, lips pressed together and you look up at the stars instead of the beautiful man currently kissing your inner thigh. Before he had wanted nothing to do with you and now he seems to want everything with you, you’d have whiplash if your brain wasn’t slowly melting out of your ear at the feel of his lips dragging higher.

He’s taking it so. So slow. Palming your breast now and kissing the other thigh You’re going to combust and be left nothing but a pile of embers if he keeps this up. You need so deeply that it hurts.

You card your fingers through his hair. It’s surprisingly soft and the sensation adds to the tension in you. He grunts as you give a little tug, but you think he gets the message without you having to use your words, your words probably wouldn’t make sense in this moment.

“Oh!” you gasp.

Yes, he proves that he got the message loud and clear as he’s parting you with his tongue and licking a stripe that ends at your clit and makes your eyes roll back. He’s good.

He tastes you and moans deep at it. His tongue swipes again against your clit and your grip in his hair tightens a bit again but he doesn’t seem to mind or even notice as he explores and delves deeper. He swirls against your entrance, and then presses in for a moment and you’re going to lose it completely.

The noise of your whines and whimpers increase, a muffled cry against your hand as he moves up again and sucks against your clit with a softness which quickly becomes much more fervent when you respond well. You buck your hips against his face, so he holds one strong arm across you as he continues to alternate between using his tongue and his mouth to bring you closer.

Your mind is all but scrambled with the way you feel. You haven’t had anything like this in so long and he’s fulfilling needs you had almost forgotten you had. He’s not just giving you pleasure, he’s giving you back something you thought you’d lost. He’s making you feel on fire in every way possible; burning skin on burning skin, scorching heat between your legs and deep in your belly.

You're winding, tightening, as he continues. He delves a thick finger in to you and then another as he focuses his mouth on your sensitive bud, listening to the sounds of your heavy breath and knowing he’s doing right.

“Joel…Joel you’re…yes, like that…” You moan too loud, Joel grunts against you with a light slap to the thigh. Keep it down. Even now he’s aware, does he ever really let himself go fully?

Right, you’re out in the open. It feels like you’re in a world of just you and him…you have to try and keep some kind of sanity as he makes you see the stars behind your lids. It’s almost impossible, biting your lip to try and quiet yourself.

It’s…it’s incredible. The way his tongue moves. The crook of his fingers inside you. The pressure in you when he purses his lips around your clit. Your body is too hot, alive, more alive than you’ve felt in weeks. Too alive, all at once.

“Oh god…I’m…it’s….please…” babbles of incoherence which earn you a pinch to your skin, but he doesn’t let up on his ministrations. He doesn’t give you a chance to calm down.

Suddenly, your body ignites as the tight coil in your stomach snaps and it’s like there’s no yesterday, no tomorrow. You writhe, hips bucking, Joel holding you down and continuing until the very last moment of your orgasm. You’ve come before, of course, even if not with a partner in a while you’ve known this feeling many times and yet it’s like something you’ve never fully had before. He’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.

Fuck, your eyes are shut tight as you ride out the waves. Little aftershocks that make your body shiver. You can feel him - a final kiss to your clit, another to your inner right thigh and then he’s raising up, moving away from you and you can hear him catching his own breath like he nearly drowned in you.

“Jesus” You groan, limp and a mess. He breathes out a quiet, pleased laugh and you finally open your eyes and try to adjust them to see his face again.

He’s looking at you. He’s all lines and splotches and coloured lights but he’s looking at you with something like a smile.

Everything is blurred.

The lines are blurred. What does it mean? What does that soft kiss he places against your lips now actually mean? You feel sluggish from the climax but somehow your mind is racing still despite it. The lines are so damn blurred and it’s going to make you crazy, it’s going to make you lose it all.

“Alright?” He asks softly as he helps you put on your underwear and jeans again. Where did all his uncaring gruffness go? When will it come back and how will you live when it does?

“y-yeah…I think…yeah” You mutter dumbly. “Joel, I-”

Whatever you were going to say is cut off. He lays beside you again, arm going right around you pulling you flush against his chest. Your heart won't stop racing.

“You still feel alone?” Joel whispers in a deep grumble against your ear. You can feel it come from his chest. You shudder helplessly.

You shake your head. There’s a feeling of exhaustion from the day's movement settling in and you succumb to it swiftly, resting your head down on him and letting your breathing match to his. Letting him take you over completely.

No, you’re not lonely.

This fate is worse than loneliness.

#Joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #pedro pascal character fiction #pedrostories #our house of flames #this is actually the longest fic I've written which is know is pathetic but uh wow go me #gideon writes

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allbluedepths · 5 months

Text

Started wondering about how Beckmann views/interacts with Mihawk post him stopping dueling Shanks and the fallout around that. Because while I think they'd at least have an neutral-to-mutual-respect relationship during Shanks and Mihawk's dueling years, I think things would be a bit different after that, with Beckmann being protective over Shanks' well-being once Shanks and Mihawk begin to be in real contact again.

(read more because this got a bit out of hand haha)

My personal headcanon is that Mihawk stopped coming around for a good while after they officially stopped dueling. Shanks understood that Mihawk was upset (though not fully why), but he still thought Mihawk would visit. So when he doesn’t… yeah, he doesn’t take it well. The majority of the crew never realizes something’s up, but Beckmann very much bears the brunt of it because the captain is his responsibility. So, once it becomes evident Mihawk may be reconnecting with his captain, Beckmann makes it abundantly clear that Mihawk does not get to waltz back in if he’s just going to leave again and send Shanks spiraling once more.

(Because it isn’t just Shanks spiraling; it’s Shanks fooling everyone else that he’s okay but falling apart in his cabin at night. And it’s Beckmann who’s dragging him out of whatever bottle he’s found and making sure he gets to bed instead of reminiscing and staring out over the waves for someone who won't return. Because Mihawk is the closest thing Shanks has had to a real relationship — and now, a real breakup — and it’s ugly, and awful, and while Mihawk is allowed to leave, Beckmann is the one that chose to stay and do his damndest to put Shanks back together.)

For the record, Beckmann doesn't think Shanks is innocent in all this; he's known him since he was a teenager, and he's incredibly aware of how poor of a communicator he can be. But in this case, Beckmann understands just why he'd give up so much for Luffy and is frustrated that it doesn't seem like Mihawk is even trying to understand. He knows he can't fully wrap his head around the importance of their duels and everything that their complicated, intertwined relationship is, but again, he's the one picking up the pieces here.

So no, Beckmann isn't going to say Mihawk shouldn't stay for a drink. But he is going to make it abundantly clear that his captain has lost enough people already in his life, over and over and over, and Shanks doesn't need yet another ghost to haunt him.

(Mihawk just nods and walks away, not out of disagreement, but because he isn't the type to hold words over actions. And he definitely needs to ruminate over what Beckmann said for a while because he never knew things got that bad. Beckmann and him might not be best friends, but he does respect Beckmann's place as Shanks' first mate and his duty to protect him.)

I do think things would slowly improve as Shanks and Mihawk repair their relationship, so this isn't a super angsty headcanon. But I would say there'd eventually be a sentiment of "you earned your second chance after all" versus "you defend him better than anyone else could" — though they'd never say it out loud or that directly, haha.

TL;DR I really love captain and first mate dynamics and how those interact with other relationships. : )

#this was written fairly platonic but benn/shanks shippers feel free to equally go ham #one piece #mishanks #dracule mihawk #red haired shanks #benn beckman #akagami no shanks #takanome mihawk #benn beckmann #headcanons #also i have no idea if it's beckman or beckmann so sorry i keep seeing both haha

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ambrosialdesire · 1 year

Text

cacoëthes

[ PART ONE ] [ PART TWO ] [ PART THREE ]

18+ DARK CONTENT BELOW, MINORS + BLANK BLOGS DNI

pairing: s4 reiner x fem!reader word count: 6.7k warnings + tags: general yandere and obsessive themes, unhealthy relationships, stalking, kidnapping mention, vomit mentions (nonsexual cause), gore/violence, slight misogyny, kinda aot spoilers if you haven't watched it before, all characters are 18+ synopsis: reiner has always kept his eyes on you ever since the two of you were still trainees. he's sorry for many things that he's done in his cursed life but he was never sorry for loving you. you loved him as only a friend and perhaps family, but your relationship with the bulky blond is not everything what it seems on the surface. not to him at least. a/n: tbh i just thought of this up as i reminisced on old middle school memories recently, i was a big s1 aot fan back in the day and just got back into it bc of one of my friends. i recently got a mad crush on reiner that i didn't have before and that same friend is dealing with the brunt of it lol this might be ooc since i haven't written any aot characters in years + they have slightly different personalities from back then. if this gets enough support (likes and reblogs), the second part will be posted as soon as possible! even if it doesn't, i'm still gonna be posting it anyways part one is just like a recap of reiner and the reader's relationship, there's nothing sexual in this part until the other parts. note: please keep in mind of the tags above and do not proceed if triggering or uncomfortable, especially if you are a minor!! do not read my or any other writers' dark content if you are underaged. this is a fictional work and does not reflect irl morals, do not believe this is how a real romance works or functions.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

Reiner shouldn't be looking at you.

He should've stopped years ago, this could've all been prevented if he had just pulled his eyes away. Hell, he should've just kept his attention on Krista — no that's not her name now, what was it, Historia? — but he respected Ymir's wishes of betrothing her despite... everything that had happened to the girl. But he didn't and now he was in this hellish predicament.

You were born and raised in Paradis. Titans have destroyed most of humanity and the remnants of them have been living in the walls ever since; that's all you knew compared to the Marley-born warrior. He wished he could be as naïve as the devils that resided in this small island, it would be better to only know that you were the only lifeforms that lived decent lives hiding away from the Titans outside of the walls.

No, he shouldn't be calling you a devil. Fuck, he shouldn't be calling any of what-once-was his friends devils but he couldn't just erase the years of history that has been embedded into his head ever since he could comprehend language. At the same time, they have never done any evils towards him before he revealed the true identities of his group.

He loved his Paradisian friends — he wished he could say that in front of their faces without feeling so much melancholy shame and guilt — he loved serving for his country, he loved his family. But most importantly, he loves you.

It was an accidental captivation from a single hand-to-hand combat training session, where the 104th trainees were once unaware of the kind of future ahead of them. You were unfairly set against Reiner, Instructor Shadis even knew that but still made you two spar. You were shorter than him — most Paradis people were — and weaker, not just because you were a girl. He didn't notice you back then, there was nothing that the man thought at a first glance was interesting about you.

Nothing at all.

You were barely any threat despite being a devil, a lowly sheep in the den of a vicious lion.

You put your arms up in a defensive position anyways, shifting the weight on your feet. Your small fists were balled up tightly, as if you were going to actually do some damage with them. You knew that you couldn't beat him in pure strength but you readied yourself regardless, eyes glinting in determination. He held up his fists, a small yet confident smirk growing on his face. This was going to be a simple win.

"Don't go easy on me Braun."

"I have no intentions to L/N."

He remembered how quickly you dashed towards him, not fast enough that it rivals Annie's or Mikasa's speed, but fast enough for him to be caught off guard for a good second. He watched you bend down low, trying to get a low sweep on him. He had enough training back home to know how to avoid this kind of attack. Reiner jumped back, believing to have narrowly missed your foot and prepared himself to counter-attack.

But he could have never expected being tackled by the leg down, his back colliding into the dirt. All the air escaped his lungs as he felt you scramble to pin him down, a large grin plastered on your face.

"Aw Braun, I appreciate you going easy on me but really? I expected a big guy like you to try harder."

He bit back his tongue from saying anything in reply, watching you stand and dust off your uniform, still wearing that proud smirk. As he finally managed to collect his bearings, he asked you a question.

"Where'd you learn that move?"

"Leonhart." As to be expected of the Female Titan inheritor but he didn't expect her giving out sparring tips to anyone, especially Paradisians. You outstretched your hand towards him, waiting for him to take it.

"Y'know anything else from her?" He questioned, grabbing your hand as you lifted him up.

You pondered a bit, exaggerating your expression as you pretended to think about it, and finally answered him.

"Maybe, but I'll only reveal them to you if you actually put more effort into our sparring. I'm not a frail little girl y'know."

Reiner heftily laughed as you slapped his arm, walking away to resume your defensive stance. The two of you continued to spar, both of you counting down individual wins; it came down to a score of fifteen-ten, he won the whole thing but that didn't seem to falter your smile. You were simply ecstatic that he didn't supposedly pull back his punches, though he did quietly fret over the bruises that bloomed overnight on your face and arms the next day.

Bertolt noticed his staring problem immediately a few weeks after. Rather than looking at Krista per usual and daydreaming about marrying her, he was looking at you chowing down your meal next to Connie and Sasha. He whispered to him that what he's doing should cease immediately but he insisted that it would not interfere with their original mission. You were an enigma that he wanted to solve, that's all.

He swore to him that he had good intentions — that he was truly observing the kinds of enemies they were facing — but now he's not quite sure that they even stayed good to begin with.

Through his many inconspicuous observations, Reiner had found out that nothing seemed to pull that grin down on your face. Whether it be the instructors yelling out insults and commands, the rain pelting down on them during group training, or when it seemed like a rough day for every trainee, the smile you bore never faltered. It was somewhat confusing to him. How could you be so cheerful in this kind of world?

You preferred to hum during chores, the song never being the same each time he honed in from listening in on you. He gave up trying to memorize anything you hummed after the fifth one or so. He then noticed that on occasion when no one was around, you'd pick up the dandelions that grew in the small patches of grass of the camp, braiding them into small rings and wearing them until they fell apart. Reiner managed to pocket one when you accidentally dropped it, not noticing that it was gone. His good luck charm, as he liked to call it.

You liked to help others before focusing on yourself, taking on other people’s chores or taking the blame for things that weren't originally your fault. Reiner thought you were being too nice for your own good. You didn’t fit the type of person that was being used to other people’s advantages but you never seemed to mind.

You weren’t quite the evil Eldian he believed you to be, rather he considered you a fallen angel amongst the devils, led astray from the path you were presumed to take. Perhaps he can make you repent like he was trying to do back home, there was proof that you were worthy to be considered a Marleyan.

And that was the start of it, he knew he should've stopped there once he started to believe you’d be a perfect fit for Marley.

All this constant watching and being everywhere that you were at. Watching your every move and reaction. Taking things of yours that he shouldn't be taking.

Reiner was starting to believe that you were more than what you were leading on, his heart already knowing where his stance was on the subject.

Marriage didn’t seem bad, tying you down to him with a pretty golden band and children… wait, no. The two of you were still young and you were most definitely his enemy… right? But further down in the future… yeah, there's a possibility. A slim one, but one nonetheless.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

You had begun to take notice of Reiner's staring. There was always such a strange feeling of being watched and you finally had the guts to look around, seeing your old sparring partner just... there. Watching. It was always awkward whenever the two of you accidentally locked eyes, you having to be the first one that breaks contact. Reiner wasn’t a bad guy — from what you knew — but the way he just gazes at you, it gave you the creeps.

You asked Krista once if he seemed off, overhearing whispers among the other trainees of him liking her. Not that you were big on eavesdropping, you simply couldn't help it. She said that there was nothing wrong, maybe he’s just daydreaming and it just happens to be that he’s looking directly at you.

Bullshit, you had once bitterly thought. You wanted to tell him off but Bertolt managed to always drag him away before you could really confront him, so you eventually had forgotten about it.

But there was one thing that you couldn't forget when his friend pulled him away. It was the quick yet intense glare he bore when he glanced back at you. You had nothing against the guy, he may always be skittish, but you never felt like he was a bad person either.

So why did he have to look at you like that?

"Why did you decide to join?"

You jumped, almost tipping the bucket of water you had in your hands. Turning around, you squinted your eyes in the torch-lit night, slowly meeting the gaze of Reiner. Ah, so he finally decided to talk to you.

"A hello first would've been nice. Besides, why do you want to know Braun?" You questioned, placing the water-filled pail down so you wouldn't accidentally spill it on yourself or him.

"Guess you could say it's plain ol' curiosity L/N."

Pulling your lips in a thin line, you zipped it shut with your fingers and shook your head. You weren’t close to the man, hell, the only time you actually spoke to him was the sparring session. Why was he suddenly so interested in you?

“So you won’t say anything about it?” He frowned, putting one of his hands in his pants pocket.

“You have a plethora of answers from the others of what it could be. I could’ve been one of the survivors of the Colossal Titan’s attack. Maybe I’m just looking to join the Military Police for that comfortable life. Perhaps I could be a vengeful orphan just because my family attempted and failed to take back the wall. Whatever the answer could be, it’s all the same for each recruit.” You picked your bucket back up, feeling the liquid slosh around against your arms.

“Is that all you wanted to ask me because I have to take this water back to the kitchen for breakfast tomorrow.”

“No there’s something else,” He moved closer to you, a certain aura emitting as he approached closer. Reiner didn’t seem the type to hurt others without any reason. Even though you didn’t know him, you were acutely aware of his big brother-like personality with the other trainees. “If you could run away from all this, would you?”

“…What?” Confusion muddled your mind and you began to bite the inside of your cheek nervously.

“I’ll repeat it for you. If you could run away from all this, would you?” He asked again and you began to think. All you ever knew was the walls, anything outside of it was just a dangerous hellscape.

“Not really, there’s nothing out there for me. I have my friends and life is good here despite Wall Maria being currently swarmed. What am I even running from anyways Braun, the Titans? There’s just gonna be more out there anyways.” You then started walking in the direction of the dining hall, carefully making sure it wasn’t gonna spill on you.

“What if there was? Imagine an island with no Titans and life is even better there than here. No walls hiding you away from the land, just complete freedom.” You stopped, directing your head towards him. Why did he keep insisting upon the idea of this question? This was the only place in the world where humanity still thrives.

“I would still have to decline, it’ll still be no home of mine. I’d like to someday see the world without Titans but I’d probably be long gone by the time they’re all exterminated. Now goodnight Braun.” You finally walked away, feeling suddenly exhausted. Where was Bertolt when you needed him? Reiner was starting to scare you.

You left the man behind with a mess of thoughts in his head. Reiner did not agree with your mentality nor your standpoint in the matter, but that could change once he and his group bring you to Marley. Once you get there, you’ll see how life is much better than in Paradis. He brushed a quick thumb against a dried petal in his uniform pocket, the material cracking under his touch.

You have no other choice but to like Marley.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

Never in your life have you thought your whole world could tip upside down again.

In a span of a few days after graduation, Wall Rose had become the same as Wall Maria, the Colossal Titan making its horrid and grand reappearance. The Trost District was a mass gravesite, there weren't enough words to describe your devastation of the lost lives of people you had considered as family. The heavy guilt that washed over you made you believe that if you were just a little more stronger and more decisive with your attacks, you could've — no — you would've saved them.

You threw up off the rooftop, the taste of bitter bile leaving a stain in your mouth. The stench of blood and ash wafted in all directions and it felt like you couldn't get any sicker. The images of your fellow companions getting wailing for help while getting ripped apart limb from limb and eaten alive was enough to keep you dizzy and nauseous.

Your tank was irrevocably damaged and you made the quick decision to isolate yourself to the nearest building as soon as possible before it sputtered out its last remnants, your body colliding into the red tiles.

You wanted to cry. It feels just like years ago but this time, you felt even more powerless than you were when you were a child. Even though you learned the ability to fight these oversized cannibals, you never felt so goddamn weak when dealing with the real thing. What good were you if you weren't able to use your gear?

This is where I die, you had bitterly decided. You let out a light pitiful laugh and knelt down, wiping away the tears that fell. Life was a cruel thing, wasn't it? No matter what, the moment you decided to join the regime was the same day that you would be contracting your life to an early demise. No matter what, you would die.

No matter what. No matter what. No matter what.

Not far from you, earth-shaking thuds grew near and a shadow began to cover over your shaking form. Closing your eyes with a nervous grin, you began to welcome in your godforsaken fate.

If you were unable to save your friends, what more humanity?

"L/N!" God? Was that you?

A splash of warm blood drenched the skin of your face, steam fanning off. The noticeable sound of hissing affirmed that someone sliced the nape of the Titan that was ready to consume you, their boots grinding against the tiles.

"You damn idiot! What do you think you're doing sitting there?!"

You peered through teary eyes, meeting a familiar hazel pair. Your shaky smile quivered downwards, a broken cry slipping out of your mouth as you finally realized that there was someone else alive.

Reiner was surprised, you were a considerably tough person and he believed that nothing could ever break your resilience. You tried to explain yourself to him like a kid that just got in trouble, blubbering out how weak you are and how you couldn't save your squad. It's not like you can look him in the eyes now, you know how disappointed he'd look at you. The girl that was known to be all happy-go-lucky in the 104th Training Corps.

The more you thought about it, the more you ended up breaking down into a complete sobbing mess, hiccupping the words sorry over and over again as you pulled your knees into your chest. Your tears darkened the white cloth of your uniform as you wept, the blood continuing to steam off of your face.

He rested his hand on your shoulder, seeing you cry almost made him regret putting his plan in motion. However, in order for them to retrieve the Founding Titan, they have to do this. There was no other choice in the matter.

"That's enough Y/N. You did your best with what you had. No one was expecting Colossal to come back like this, the least you could do now is honor your fellow fallen soldiers. Ensure that they didn't die for nothing. Don't die like a coward and stand up."

You sniffled as you picked your head up from your knees, wiping off the snot and tears with your jacket sleeve. As much as you didn't want to get up, he was right. How could you face your deceased comrades in the afterlife if you just let yourself die now? How selfish of you to let your life be taken away so easily when they fought so hard in order to fend off the Titans from coming any closer to the escaping civilians.

"My ODM gear broke, the gas cylinder got pierced by a rock I think." You mumbled quietly, voice sore.

"I'll carry you to the others then, we made a discovery in order to get into HQ to replace our supplies. A few of us with enough gas went out to find the unaccounted. I'm glad I found you before that Titan got to you."

The real truth was that Reiner had been panicking ever since he saw that you weren't with the other groups. He was terrified with the idea that he fucked up, the plan being the cause of your death. It was his proposal to locate the missing soldiers, making it seem like he genuinely cared about his fellow recruits. He didn't know what he would've done if he found your rotting corpse, knowing that it was completely his fault.

A miscalculation. A misstep. A mistake.

He put away his blades in its sheaths and lifted you up into his arms, making sure you were secured to him as much as possible. The positioning was awkward due to your gear still being strapped onto your body but it seemed that he didn't mind. You knew already that he was a strong man but for him to just lift you up like nothing even with your gear and his combined, you wondered if he still held back when the two of you sparred. Perhaps you were a little grateful that he did, not ending up with a broken bone at the end of it.

Unbeknownst to you, the man was screaming on the inside as he carefully maneuvered through buildings and rooftops. You closed your eyes each time he made abrupt turns and jumps, pulling yourself closer to his chest. He decided that he liked holding you, there will no longer be a day where he won't have his hands on you. He finally reached the others, seeing that the Abnormal Titan was still beating down the other Titans that were getting in its way and trying to consume it.

"What is that?"

He let you down slowly, the warmth escaping him as you were hypnotized from the scene in front of you. Unlike the other Titans you've seen so far, this Titan was strangely well built and its teeth lined the outside of its mouth. Of course you knew about Abnormals but this one was odd looking and it was unheard of for Titans fighting other Titans. Then again, the walls never broke down before and the only explorers of the outside were the Survey Corps.

"Our ticket into HQ. Look how it's drawing all the attention to itself." Reiner was right yet again. As this Abnormal was punching heads off and screaming, it seemed that the Titans were more interested in it rather than the humans inside. He picked you up once more, telling you to prepare yourself and crashed through the headquarters' window, making sure that none of the glass got on you. The others were relieved that he made it back with another teammate safely, and Armin began to explain the plan to rid of the seven remaining Titans on the inside.

You were put to be one of the gunslingers in the lift, the heavy weight of the rifle causing you to shift it around in your hands. Were you able to look one of these monsters in the eye and manage to incapacitate it?

“Stay back Y/N.”

“Excuse me?” Reiner put his hand on your shoulder once more, shaking his head. Looks like that was going to be a habit now.

“You don’t have to be in the lift, we have enough people already in there.” You scoffed quietly, pushing past him to line yourself up with the others. You broke down once in front of him and now he wants to be your protector. Sure, it was nice of him to be worried about your safety but you trusted him and the others that they'll do their part of the plan without any issues.

“I've made the decision that I'm not going to be a coward Reiner,” He watched you step in and face him, giving him a small smile with a thumbs-up. “And I’m sure as hell not going down as one.”

The lift started its slow descent down and you settled in position, your finger nervously tracing around the trigger. None of you could shoot too early or too late, these guns were difficult to reload and it would lead all of you into an early grave. The heavy tension in the air could be cut with one of the blades and the group in the lift was shuffling around lightly. It would be a lie to say that none of you weren't scared, no one wants to die knowing they're going to be eaten alive.

The lift stopped, the air deathly still. Everyone clicked into position, guns pointed and drawn. Quiet, shaky breathing was the only thing that you heard besides the ground shaking stomps of the giants, their attention landing towards the group.

Someone behind you gasped in surprise as a Titan looked in his vicinity, the voice of Marco telling him to calm down and continue to wait until they were closer. Another person was shaking besides you, her hands unsteady on her weapon and her face pale. Sweat was beginning to accumulate on your forehead and it felt difficult to breathe suddenly.

You looked up with your open eye quickly, seeing Reiner up in the posts with the others. Taking in a deep breath, a burst of confidence ran through your body.

"Ready..." Your finger hovered over the trigger, a giant blue eye staring at you. One more step, just a little closer.

"Fire!" At the sound of Marco's command, you pulled the trigger and shot. The timing of the other soldiers' shots were inconsistent, the sounds of gunfire were deafening, and the smell of gunpowder wafted in the air. Either way, the Titans' eyes were incapacitated and the seven above can finish the job.

Your heart sank as two of them did not falter like the rest, watching Connie fall into the ground and Sasha look up in horror. They didn't cut deep enough and the Titans' eyes had already regenerated from the shots. It wasn't easy trying to kill them without their gear, horror sinking in as the Titans lumbered towards them. Your stomach twisted in knots as one jumped towards her as she apologetically screamed at it and Connie was helplessly backed into a pillar from the other. No one in the lift could do anything to assist them.

You fumbled with your rifle, reaching in your pocket for any more rounds. Luckily, the two most proficient fighters managed to finish them off before anyone else could react and you felt sweet relief as the lift was safely lowered down. Hopefully this would be the last and only time that you'd face a Titan that close without ODM gear. You picked up a new tank and replaced the broken one with it, beginning to stock up on your supplies.

"You alright?" Speak of the devil, here he was once again. You turned your head towards Reiner as he sat down next to you, refilling his tanks.

" 'M fine. You did good out there."

"I could say the same with you, must've been nerve-wracking seeing those things look at you that close."

"Yeah, but you had to jump down without using any of your gear while trying to hit their napes. That's way more difficult than what we did in the lift." He lightly chuckled and dismissively shrugged, saying that it was nothing but he did get nervous with Connie and Sasha. You agreed to that statement, you liked those two and they've always humored you during dinnertime. The two of you sat quietly afterwards until he started to talk again, trying to break the silence.

"Y'know you said my name earlier, not Braun but Reiner." Your cheeks flushed warm, switching the refill to your other tank.

"You did that too, back when you saved me." You attempted to lead him away from what you said, nervously biting your cheek.

"Why did you say it?" Reiner completely ignored you, insisting upon his question more.

"I could say the same to you."

"I only said your last name because you said mine like that when we first met, thought it would be even that way. So Y/N, why did you say my name?" Fuck, he had a point.

Your shoulders slumped in defeat and you sighed, pulling your lips in a line.

"I don't really know. Maybe it was a slip of the tongue in the heat of the moment or I just wanted to say your name for the first time. Just in case anything happened or something..."

Your voice trailed off to a quiet mumble, your face reddening and hot. You didn't mean for it to sound that it was insinuating something, you genuinely appreciated him saving your ass back there and getting your morale back up. It was simply a newfound gain of respect for him. Taking a peek at his expression, you saw that his mouth was slightly agape and he turned his face away from you. Was your response that surprising?!

Embarrassed, you finished refilling your tank and started strapping your gear back on. You apologized quickly, fumbling with your words and speed-walking away to get fresh blade replacements.

'Marriage, marriage, marriage, marriage.' Reiner's thoughts quickly ran through his head, his own cheeks crimson even though he had a firm expression as he watched you walk away. He hoped that you would continue to say his first name, you will have to once he weds you in Marley. But he wouldn't mind if they were replaced with dear or honey, oh he would not mind at all.

Events took a turn once you got out of HQ. It was found out that the Abnormal Titan that was killing off the Titans was Eren Jaeger. Ironic that the vengeful and overtly loud mouthed guy that swore to kill all Titans turned out to be a Titan himself. Though there were many complications — and many lives taken — in trying to complete this mission that Commander Pixis set, Eren managed to seal off the hole in Trost.

Two days later, the more experienced soldiers killed off the remainders and you were set for clean-up of bodies and body parts that littered the streets. It was a heart-wrenching task seeing limbs and partially eaten corpses of both citizen and soldier, most being completely unrecognizable. They were once part of a family. They were sons, daughters, siblings, maybe even parents themselves. Wherever they are now, you hope that they're at peace.

You tugged your cloth mask up more as you looked around for more corpses, walking around until you saw Jean stand still from afar. He was looking at a body, your own eyes widening as you slowly recognized whom it was. Marco Bodt. The guy that commanded the group to shoot a few days prior; if you remembered correctly, he was one of Jean's close friends during training.

You felt sorry for him, he had just found and lost his best friend simultaneously. Not even a minute ago, he was asking around if anyone had seen him, voice desperate for a reassuring answer. This world was so cruel to the ones that didn't deserve it, all of you were just trying to live comfortable lives but it'll never be that way. You turned away from the scene and went off to find another unaccounted for.

What a shame, a damn shame.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

You chose to go into the Survey Corps rather than the Garrison, mostly because you wanted to continue to fight those terrifying beasts in order to avenge the lost lives of your friends during the Battle of Trost. It would give you some kind of peace of mind knowing that you wouldn't hide away from the fight for them. After everything settled down, you befriended Reiner once you were able to catch him alone.

He was... different when you started talking to him more, you couldn't completely tell what it was but there was a feeling you had that he wasn't quite all there. He began to space out on some occasions, coming back down and acting quite odd, as if he was an entirely different person. The invasion was pretty traumatizing for everyone involved so you couldn't blame him for any mental change in his mind. You knew that you weren't definitely the same either, half of your friends had been decimated and nearly witnessing all of them die would never settle right in your mind.

Reiner had become pretty overbearing when it came to you, believing it was because of how you acted in Trost. He started hovering a lot, becoming a burden over your shoulders. He made sure that whatever you do didn't hurt you and if it did seem like a danger, he'd immediately take over. He'd say that he's just thinking about your safety, he'll handle it for you and to not worry, he prefers to do things for others. You could believe that part, you knew Reiner was the altruistic type but it was pretty aggravating when it was a constant all the time.

And just like Bertolt, he never left your side. Sometimes you'd be forced to hang out with the two of them and you didn't really mind, you got to know Bertolt more than the nervous guy he was known to be (plus he had finally stopped glaring at you weirdly). But you could only talk to Bertolt, any other male soldier you could only share short conversations with because Reiner would drag you away from them.

You weren't his lover, you mentioned to him once in a fit, you can freely talk to anyone you want and he has no say in who you could talk to.

You never were able to see the look in his eyes when you said that to him, stomping away angrily past confused scouts. This was one of the fights you had with him, ignoring him for a while until he apologized with how he acted but it would just repeat in a more inconspicuous way. Eventually, you just let him win because nothing you said about it stuck.

He'd handle you like you were fragile glassware and you despised it, you weren't a weak person, you were a damn Survey Corps soldier just like him. You were more than capable of defending and attacking, but for some reason, he still insists and insists that he can do it for you.

There is no reason someone like you should be doing things like this, that alone made you furious. He'd only leave you alone when you were put on cleaning duty or cooking. You wondered if he was like those kinds of people when it came to women but he wasn't like that to the other girls in the Corps, just you.

And yet, despite all these annoyances of his, you still considered Reiner a comforting friend. He'd listen to your rambles of mindless things and give you advice about them, trying to understand where you're coming from. He'd mostly call you a babbling idiot though but would say something stupid in return, which you always called him out for. You'd argue back and forth with smiles on your faces.

When you felt like you were in a slump, he'd pat your shoulder and then talk until you felt better. Or if that didn't work, then he'd tell you to put them up and the two of you would jokingly fight, letting you wrestle him down until your stomach hurt from laughing and the punching. He was most certainly like a big brother, dearly reminding you of your siblings.

You even started giving Reiner your special dandelion rings, seeing him wear them around his left ring finger. Did he know the meaning of that? He had to, he was old enough and his parents must've worn rings around him. You wanted to point it out to him but you'd chicken out, scared that you were gonna insinuate something that wasn't supposed to be interpreted that way.

The two of you were only friends, that was it. That was it, until the moments that led up to the day that you found out that Reiner and Bertolt were never who they really said they were.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

Annie was found to be the Female Titan that killed many of the Corps members during the 57th Expedition, you never had expected her of all people to be a Titan shifter like Eren and a traitor.

For the first time in your friendship, Reiner hugged you. You didn't expect it, thinking that he was simply afraid that you were one of the bodies left behind and was only relieved that you were alive. The height difference between the two of you was quite a bit, he had leaned down and nestled his face into your neck, arms wrapped around you tightly. He was a toasty kind of warm, similar to sitting next to a fire during the winter.

You told him that everything will be alright now that the threat has been neutralized. He mumbled that he was afraid of losing you too, your heart skipping a beat. In response, you tried to ease his mind by promising him that you would never leave his side anytime soon. There was no possibility that you were a shifter like Annie and Eren, absolutely no way.

He was quiet for a moment, finally lifted his head out of the crook of your neck, his eyes intensely staring into yours before softening up. There was a newfound determination that you could faintly see before he pulled away, thanking you for consoling him.

It was odd, like a switch went off in his head.

The final incident came after the capture of Annie, when a handful of soldiers were presumed to be one of her accomplices and put outside of Wall Rose in an abandoned mansion. You weren't a suspect but Reiner and Bertolt were, and the worry started setting in. There wasn't a doubt in mind that you had for them, you could never see them as traitors to humanity.

Reiner did his duties all the time and he was a diligent soldier, he was also a good friend to all other members. Bertolt, though cowardly and needed a push in the right direction sometimes, has always been devoted as a soldier; he did graduate behind Reiner in third place after all.

There was a sudden breach in Wall Rose despite it being completely known to be sealed on the inside. Everyone assumed that another hole had been formed in another place by the Colossal in secret, so squadrons were sent out to scour the area to locate the breach. You were concerned that the suspected group that was contained in the area at the time of the breach had been attacked, anxiety racking your mind.

You overheard some of the soldiers that came from the search mention that there was no hole, saying that whoever saw the Titans must be going crazy.

That wasn't right. The witness reports said that Titans were definitely seen in the interior, they couldn't be wrong. Titans were quite hard to miss, they were quite literally large human things. It was inexplicable but you didn't focus much on it, being told to assist the incoming citizens before searching for the contained group.

You couldn't rack your mind in how many twists and turns you've been through throughout the years, but the Survey Corps finally found the group in a torn apart abandoned castle surrounded by a few more Titans. Ymir was revealed to be another Titan shifter — was anyone else here a Titan shifter because it seemed to be never-ending — but she had seemingly no intent to hurt the others as she saved the group she was with from death.

You found out that Reiner got bit from a Titan, retrieving the injury from pushing one out of the castle through a window. You were half astounded and half terrified with the new knowledge that he was way stronger than you anticipated. You thanked Krista — now actually known as Historia — for taking care of Reiner's injury, scolding him after for putting himself in reckless danger like that.

Assisting the injured on top of Wall Rose, you sighed in exhaustion as you sat next to Ymir's sleeping form with Historia. The past few months have been hectic as ever, did the soldiers before you deal with things like this? Five years ago and beyond that, there were no such thing as shifters or breaches in the walls. It would simply be incomprehensible back then that such a thing would’ve existed.

You turned your head in the direction of Reiner and Bertolt who were occupied with speaking to Eren. You weren't able to hear what they were saying until Reiner started to raise his voice, scrunching your eyebrows together.

Something was off. He was rambling, looking like he had completely lost it. Bertolt looked horrified, Eren was nervously laughing. Reiner... what was he talking about?

Mikasa suddenly slashed at the two, cutting Reiner's hand off and slitting Bertolt's neck. You almost screamed in shock, shooting up onto your feet until steam came off of them, an all too familiar occurrence that only happened to… Titans.

Sudden bright flashes of lights blinded you and lit up the wall with a threatening intensity, hot steam nearly blew you off your feet before you quickly latched yourself onto the wall with your gear. To your horror, the Colossal and Armored Titan formed right in front of your eyes and everything you had once known about them shattered to bits.

Reiner had grabbed ahold of Eren as he fell off the wall and Bertolt's monstrous half remained on top, hand reaching towards Ymir. The shock of seeing the monster that destroyed your home years ago was really your friend in disguise caused you to freeze up the second he grabbed her.

You thought you could trust them, you had high hopes that they weren't bad people like how the higher-ups thought they were. They were liars, they lied to everyone and they broke your trust, more so yours with Reiner. He was terrible, truly terrible.

You snapped back to reality as his gigantic hand wrapped around you — the still-passed out girl in his other fist — a scream ripping out of your throat. You struggled and banged your fists against the burning hot flesh of his hand, beginning to beg for Bertolt to not consume you. It fell on deaf ears as he opened his mouth, your eyes wide with horror.

The last thought you had as you and Ymir were dropped in was that you'd never forgive them for this, you'll never forget what they have done.

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paulythide · 10 months

Text

The decisions have been made, also a small sneak peek!

So, I decided to do both... because I couldn't choose. So, it would be Tensei Shitara and Mushoku Tensei. So both One-shots.

Please feel free to enjoy them!

Also, here is a small peak from the first One Shot, which would be Mushoku Tensei!

One-Shot

The sound of a beating heart desperately trying to catch another breath of life was a cold sensation for someone who had lost everything. A pitiful thought for someone like him since he never had anything to begin with. No job, no girl to hug or love, no prospect of a bright future, or a past filled with glory days, only suffering, humiliation, and a numb way of living, like an insect crawling from its whole just to eat. At the very least, his last actions saved someone's life. That has to count for something, right?

She was cute—at least, my death saved a pretty girl.

The thoughts of this man went suddenly to the unfairness of all. He didn't deserve such a life. What did he do? Why did he deserve such pain? But at the end of it all, nothing really mattered. Still, he dreamed and wished just to have one more chance to do it all over again. That was all he wanted: a chance to redo his life, not waste it all, and change for the better.

Ah, I wanted to lose my virginity...

Those were his final conscious thoughts as he saw the surgeons attempt and fail to save his life. Not that he blamed them. That truck did a number on him. The only reason he was in one piece was because his fatness managed to take the brunt of the impact. So, as darkness swallowed him slowly, he began to feel as if something had dragged him out of his body. It's a truly bizarre sensation, but it's not like he knew what dying felt like. He suddenly heard shouting and screams of joy, and slowly he began to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Opening slowly, only to show him a man and a woman staring down at him with joy and happiness.

Eh? What...? What is this? Where is this place...?

He couldn't comprehend what was happening or where he was, but one thing was clear from the looks of it. He, a 34-year-old man, was in a baby's body, and those two adults were his parents. It took not much until an idea began forming in his mind. The possibility of what happened to him and why he was there. An absurd thought, no doubt, but the fact that he was there and not dreaming showcases this event's reality, and he couldn't deny it.

He was reincarnated.

I cannot believe that absurd idea actually happened to me. It's so crazy.

The man thought deeply as the beautiful woman smiled at him, with her gorgeous breasts still exposed. Maybe he should be thankful now. He was offered a new life.

I can drink milk from this beautiful woman's breasts! He thought with a perverted smile as he stared at both young parents talking in a language he understood nothing. But the seeming joys of both young parents changed into panic, as the young mother began to breathe heavily and in shock, as she commenced to sense the labour pains again. He couldn't help but feel the same alert and concern as his father since, by the looks of it. They did not expect another baby at all.

They put the baby in the crib next to the bed, and the young mother began to scream as if her life depended on it.

Whoa! Whoah! Careful! The reborn man thought, filled with worry, not liking those hellish yells of pain. Yet, he tried to glance to his side, where his mother was giving birth to his sibling. Ah, I hope I have a sister. Soon, a short cry echoed throughout the room, a welcoming sound from a healthy newborn. The young mother exhaled deeply, watching the new baby in her husband's arms. However, she saw a stunned face, which wasn't what she was used to seeing on him at all.

"Paul...? What is it?" Zenith questioned anxiously, not paying attention to her loins' soreness or her body's exhaustion. The only thing on her mind was her baby's health. "Paul?! What is it?! Is something wrong?!"

Paul snapped from his shock as he slowly showed the baby to Zenith. Both of them expected to see the same brown hair and green eyes that their son had. But that wasn't the case. They were met with snowy white hair and two sets of deep golden eyes staring back at them in shock, confusion and even surprise.

"I..." Paul muttered, truly not knowing what to say. "It's a girl..."

"A girl," Zenith whispered, looking at the baby girl with curious eyes. "Well... I don't know why she has this hair or eyes. But..."

"Hey! I know she's mine!"

"Of course, she is yours! Idiot!" Zenith snapped as Paul cringed slightly.

"W-What I mean is that she's Rudeus' twin sister!" Pauly exclaimed quickly, calming his annoyed and tired wife. "Also, I have heard that you some are born like this. Uh, I think they are called Albinos...?"

"Albinos?" Zenith replied, glancing at her daughter, who was still glancing at her curiously. "As long as she is healthy. It doesn't matter. She doesn't look like either of us, right?"

Paul heard the tenderness in his wife's voice, which was tinged with conflicted emotions. Perhaps Zenith had some irrational fear that he wouldn't love his daughter if he didn't have his hair or eyes. That Paul would take the disparity too great to bear. A wound to his pride. Which was nonsense. Paul gently planted a kiss on Zenith's lips and grinned at her.

"Hey, look at her; she definitely has your eyebrows and cheeks!" Paul smiled brightly. Zenith stared at him, surprised by his reaction but couldn't help but chuckle.

"Yes, I can see that," Zenith then glanced and could see Rudeus trying desperately to move his baby body in order to take a glance at his sister. Rudeus could not understand a single thing both Zenith and Paul were saying. Still, he could see that whatever it was, it ended positively. He saw how Zenith moved towards the crib and located a baby beside him.

"Here, Rudeus... your twin sister," Zenith began to ponder a name that would suit her daughter. Zenith was sure that her daughter's snowy hair, and golden eyes, would surely make her a beauty in the future. But also strong like Paul, so a name was needed to reflect that. "Rhea Greyrat and Rudeus Greyrat! What do you think, dear?"

"They are perfect!"

Paul exclaimed happily as Zenith gently put Rhea next to Rudeus; both babies lay there while the young parents simply burst into a fit of passion for their new family. But as they did their naughty deed, Rudeus couldn't help but glance at his supposed sister.

Ah, I have a sister. Twin sister at that, and she is younger, technically speaking. This is the best! Rudeus thought joyfully, already thinking about everything he could do as an older brother. He could already hear "Onii-chan! I love you! You promise to marry me when we grow up! Baka!" Rudeus simply smiled internally, contemplating that life. Yet, looking at his side, he saw Rhea, his sister, merely staring at the roof.

Uh? What is she doing...? Rudeus found himself in a state of both perplexity and fascination, his thoughts swirling with questions. Still, before he could voice them, Rhea swiftly pivoted to meet his gaze. Then, whatever dreams he had before vanished. Since those golden eyes staring at him were not of a baby or something normal. Those golden eyes were inspecting him intensely. Perhaps way too much to his liking.

This...! She is scary! Then, Rudeus understood that he may not be the only one surprised by this current affair.

.---.

Don't worry. More is to come! Until later!

#announcement #ao3 author #fanfiction #oc #fanfic #one shot #crossover #new chapter

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cotarded · 1 year

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I got really fascinated by some tags you left on a post a few days ago-regarding female anatomy. Would you mind to elaborate a bit? You spoke about how the myth of it is hard to buy, how its all concentrated around reproduction and is a handicap in a way. I wonder what made come to those conslusions and why (just for the record i am asking because i think you put into words something i have felt since so long). Its annoying to always hear how beautiful it is because its able to carry childen to the world (among other things) which just makes me feel like i live in a specialised incubator, not a body. not for me but to sustain something…

Of course, I love to run my mouth. And I'm in the middle of studying for the obgyn part of my finals so it's very topical for me rn.

For context, I assume this is the post and tags you mean:

I’ve been thinking it over for the last few days, sorting through what I know and what I feel and why, and how to say it best and I haven't really arrived at anything brilliant or groundbreaking but here are some more of my thoughts on the topic.

Our reproductive system and reproductive organs are geared for - as the name suggests - reproduction. We evolved to successfully bear and raise offspring, and I feel it’s naive to deny that. Menstrual cycle and periods exist solely as means to reproduction - you don’t need a menstrual cycle to be a healthy woman; you need sex hormones, yes, because organisms evolve as a whole and everything has seven hundred different functions, but you do not need the cycle and periods, not unless you want to have a child.

And the menstrual cycle is fucking annoying. I’m not even particularly unlucky - my periods are average, I’m only in pain for 2 days and it’s easily manageable with OTC painkillers - but I can tell it affects me, it makes me feel bad, I’m less productive, I’m sure you know what I mean.

It’s a handicap because our bodies redirect insane efforts and energy towards making us pregnant every month. It’s a handicap because we are in pain and not doing our best 1/10 to 1/5 of our lives. It’s a handicap because we live in a male-dominated society and must keep up. As @iorvethh said, biology fucked us over pretty spectacularly, because we bear the brunt of reproduction.

I understand very well what you mean about living in a specialised incubator - I’ve always felt like woman’s position as a person is in a very tentative one, especially during pregnancy, but also throughout her whole life. I remember being a child and learning that I had to get a rubella shot because getting rubella during pregnancy can be dangerous for a baby, and I felt sick in a way I couldn’t quite express. I still do, even now that I understand the public health part of vaccines - it felt like an assumption, a violation of sorts - „you Will get pregnant and we want that child to be healthy”. Or even a threat - “you might not want to get pregnant, but it’s not like it’s impossible, is it? Better be prepared for that thing that can Always happen to you.” It was an act on my body done on behalf of another, confident that I’m okay with that. It felt like that hypothetical child, years in the future, was already more important than me.

And the worst part is that it isn’t only society - my body does not care I don’t want to get pregnant. It will keep on trucking, trying to make me so, every month. I was build around it, from the day I was born I’ve been carrying my potential children in me and it feels like everyone and everything sees just them, not me. I look down and can recite how each and every part of me is made for that singular purpose.

The mythos of the female body, of motherhood, of creation, is attractive to me as a concept, a story, and I do feel good about stuff my body can do - I find it valuable and fascinating how we are the more resilient ones, the ones who survive disasters to rebuild society, the key to human survival. When you study it, there’s really nothing in males that can compare - but then you go outside, into the real world and realise that in everyday life in our society all that cool stuff is hardly a boon.

Female biology is cooler on a conceptual level - we are the main characters of the human race - but the thing about main characters is that it’s more fun to read about one than to be one. We are cooler and more important than males and we are paying the price in blood.

#i hope it's at least Slightly what you hoped for anon sjsnhd #i'm sorry if its not

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grievedeeply · 2 years

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Hi! Can I submit an ask for a Glamrock Freddy x teen female reader (like 17-18) who has siblings but lives in an abusive household? Like a headcanon scenario where she's working at the Pizzaplex and gets a call from her dad and he's in a rage, so she quietly asks to leave her siblings with Freddy after hours and goes home alone to face the music but Freddy knows something isn't right? And then when she comes back a mess the next morning Freddy grills her and finds everything out? Sorry if this was too specific or weird or is out of your comfort zone, but it'd make my year if you took my ask:)) gosh nervous over the internet who'dve thought

-anxious anon

sure!! don't be anxious i love receiving and writing these requests, i hope this can be of some comfort for you! i also hope this writing format is what you wanted, if it isn't let me know and i can try something else!

tws: abuse (nothing in depth or but it is lightly described and talked about, physical and mental) all under the cut

fem!reader (she/her)

your little siblings were absolutely in love with going to the pizzaplex. it was an excuse for you to get out of the house to drive them there, so you took it upon yourself to take them for a bit of a break from your parents

the pizzaplex was loud as it always was, but at least people sounded happy, like they were enjoying themselves. you wandered around with your siblings for a while until the main show would start, which was one of their favorite things there

since you visited the pizzaplex so often, you quickly formed a friendship with glamrock freddy. the first time you met it was an accident, with you running straight into his metal chest. he forgave you quickly, and a conversation started quickly

you probably wouldn't ever tell him how big of a comfort he was to you. after all, he was an animatronic who— most likely— didn't realize how he had made an impact on you. he was almost like a parental figure to you and you found yourself happier and more comfortable around him than with your family at home

your siblings loved him too, and through you, he became friends with them as well. whenever he wasn't busy with other children he was with you and your siblings

you greeted him with a smile as you saw him after his performance, and he returned it to the best of his ability. it was almost time for the pizzaplex to close and you would have to return home soon, much to your dismay

you were so close to being able to move out and live on your own, but you couldn't leave your siblings alone with your parents like that. it would make you feel guilty for the rest of your life. the idea of moving out was great, but unless you could take them with you, it wouldn't happen

"you did great today." you told freddy as he let you and your siblings into his dressing room. "it was the same as the performance from the other day." he replies back to you, confusion evident in his tone

sometimes he was so human and it made you forget that he was really just a robot with programming. it smacked you in the face at that moment

"so?" you only laughed, your train of thought being cut off by the vibrating sensation coming from your pocket

you pursed your lips and pulled out your phone. it was your dad, and he was probably angry as he always was. you excused yourself and stepped out of his room, taking the call in the hall so your siblings didn't have to hear

your siblings knew other kids had better home lives than they did but you would always do your best to shield them from the brunt of your family's abuse

freddy noticed the frown on your lips before you left. he'd been having suspicions that something was going on at home ever since you met but this was just reinforcing that thought

he continued to talk to your siblings as you were on the phone outside, and when you came back in your face was permanently etched into a sad expression

"i have to go home." you said quietly to freddy, sounding clearly disappointed. he only wondered what your father said on the phone to make you look so sad. your siblings were obvious to your words, not even noticing that you'd came back into the room at all

"can you watch over them for a little while? they don't need to hear this." you asked him, glancing over at your siblings as they continued talking to each other. they were still looking happy, never getting tired of what the pizzaplex has to offer

"of course." he said, his voice reassuring. he'd make sure they stayed in his dressing room. the doors were to be locking soon, so they'd have to stay with him all night

he knew he'd most likely get into trouble if they were seen by any of the S.T.A.F.F. bots, but that wouldn't be too much of a problem if they stayed in his room.

you muttered a thank you to him, turned on your heel and left

freddy kept your siblings entertained, and when they asked where you went, he only told them that you had an important errand to run and had asked him to look after them for a while

they didn't think too much of it as they returned to playing and chatting with each other

freddy only wondered what kind of things you were facing at your home. he worried about you and your siblings, more so than any other children he'd met before. he'd become attached to you over time. he wanted to help you

so he hatched a plan. upon your return, he'd ask you about it. he would feel bad pushing you to say anything you didn't want to, but he knew he had to to get an answer out of you eventually

if what was going on at your house was what he thought it was, it would be better for him to ask

you returned the next morning, your hair a mess. you'd clearly gotten away from your house in a hurry as your shoes were barely put on, shoelaces still untied. he worried about you driving like that, wanting to make sure your shoes were properly put on before you left

he opened the door to his room for you, your siblings sleeping. he'd covered them up with makeshift blankets, cloths he found in the back room where his charging station was. it was more than your father at home had ever done for any of you

you didn't step in, and you gestured for him to step outside so you could talk to him privately

"thank you." you said, "i didn't think it would take that long." you admitted, scratching awkwardly at the back of your neck.

"that is okay." freddy replied. it was now or never. "what is going on at your home?" he asked you, his head tilted slightly to the side to show he was asking a question

"don't worry about it-"

"i am worrying." he cut you off before you could say anything else. "i know you don't think i notice, but i do. i noticed how upset you looked when your father called you last night, and i notice how you think you are covering up bruises. but you are not."

"you cannot keep me in the dark forever, superstar."

you remained silent at his words. superstar. every time he called you that it made you think of what your childhood could've been if it was normal, and you frowned

you pulled up your sleeves. it was easy for freddy to spot the bruises if somehow your jacket sleeves had rolled up. they were faded, but evidently still there

you told him everything, not able to keep it bottled up inside anymore. you told him about how your dad had called you in a fit of rage the night before and had threatened you multiple times in the past

freddy knew something had been going on for a long time, and he was glad that you trusted him enough to tell him about your situation

when you finished speaking, he didn't say anything in response. instead, he only dropped to his knees and pulled you into a hug. you flinched away from it at first, but quickly relaxed into it.

the hug was surprisingly comfortable even though he was made of metal. his touch was fatherly, comforting. he made no effort to pull away, waiting until you were ready instead

he wanted to get you and your siblings out of the abusive household you lived in, but he assumed you weren't ready to talk about it yet

so he stood there, arms wrapped around you in the most comforting and warm embrace you'd ever received

#fnaf #fnaf x reader #glamrock freddy #glamrock freddy x reader #fnaf sb #fnaf security breach #five nights at freddy's x reader #five nights at freddy's #fnaf glamrock freddy #fnaf freddy #security breach #security breach x reader

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honeypiehotchner · 3 years

Text

Version of You (Hotch x Fem!Reader) — one shot

Call 1-800-799-7233 if you think you are in danger/a victim of domestic violence, or visit this website for resources, live chat, and more (for the USA). This is a link to the wikipedia page that has international resources.

(I wanted to put that first because this fic deals with an abusive relationship and some scenes show the abuse. If you relate to any this, please seek help via the resources above. I want desperately to say my DMs are open, but for my own mental wellbeing, I have to let you know that the resources that I give above are about all I can do to help. You’re welcome to DM me if needed, but please know that it might take me a minute to reply, and I still will point you in the direction of resources that can better help you. I love and support and am with every single one of you, but I can only do so much through a screen xx.)

This is 100% a comfort fic, but I am safe and okay, I promise 💛 (Truthfully, this was really therapeutic to write.)

Small note: mental and verbal abuse is depicted here, not physical (though it does come close), but I wanted to remind you that just because abuse isn’t physical doesn’t mean it’s not harmful or real. Mental and verbal abuse is still abuse.

Summary: Hotch helps you find the courage within you to end your abusive relationship for good.

Warnings: depiction of an abusive relationship, verbal/mental abuse, violence (domestic and otherwise), angst, happy ending

Hotch Masterlist

Aaron is stunned and disappointed to find you’re still at your desk when he walks out of his office at the grand hour of 8 p.m.

You don’t even hear his office door open or close, but you do hear his footsteps on the stairs. By the time he reaches your desk to say goodnight, you’re already attempting to cover up any traces of emotion on your cheeks.

But Aaron is a profiler. On top of that, though, he’s one of your best friends. He’s known you for six years now, and given how much time the BAU members spend together on cases, he’d argue he knows every single person here better than they know themselves.

You’d agree. You hardly know who you are anymore. But somehow, Aaron knows. Aaron can see.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, already setting his bag down, already pulling a chair over, already sitting next to you.

You’re ready to tell him it’s nothing, to tell him to get home to Jack, that it isn’t important — but it is.

You’ve been with your current partner for almost eight years. Anyone would hear that and ask if marriage is on the horizon, or children, or something of the sort. But not Aaron. Because Aaron can see the pain in your eyes.

Truthfully, he’s seen that pain in your eyes for the past two years. Maybe more.

But recently, it’s gotten worse. A lot worse.

You’re on a “break” with your partner. Whatever a “break” even means, because you still receive phone calls and texts from them all day. You send the calls to voicemail unless you absolutely aren’t doing anything, and the texts you reply to with one word.

Going home is fine because your partner is gone — for now. Work called them away, so you’re home alone for at least another three days, but you expect they’ll want you to pick them up from the airport.

You’ve never longed for a case the way you’re longing for one right now.

This “break” has been easiest because your partner has been gone. You know if they were here, it wouldn’t have been a break at all.

“It’s made me realize that I...I want a break. A real break.”

“You want to break up,” Aaron says it for you, knowing you’re too afraid.

Your hesitant nod confirms this for him. “I do. I think I really do.”

Aaron has known the relationship hasn’t been the healthiest. You don’t open up about your personal life that much at work — you never have — but it has always been telling that you never go out for drinks with the team. And when you did, you’d have to answer texts every ten minutes. Your partner never accepted an invite to join the team for drinks or dinner, but would often get angry at you for being out, as if you hadn’t tried to invite them.

Raised voices, broken glass. Not a single hand was ever laid on you. No, instead, it was a wine glass your mom gifted to you when you graduated college when your partner was angry that you had gone out for drinks with the team after a difficult case. A coffee mug you gifted your partner for their birthday faced the brunt of their anger when you didn’t reply to a text message fast enough — because you were parking your car in the garage. Plates, picture frames. A coffee table once, three years ago. It had been a house warming present.

But they’ve never hurt me, you always argue — only with yourself. No one knows the truth, that you clean up after their outbursts, that you’re grateful to have some knowledge of first aid so you can tend to your cuts from the broken glass, or so that you could stitch up your partner’s hand with ease, because hospitals are expensive and the excuses you’d have to fabricate even more so.

They always apologize. Which is true. Apologies are frequent in your house. Sometimes verbal, sometimes in the form of flowers either on your desk at the BAU (that only Hotch seems to notice with a sad smile) or left on the counter at home. Sometimes, rarely, a fancy dinner and some gift, usually a necklace.

“If you need any help at all,” Aaron says, looking you in your eyes, carefully, intently. “I’m here. For anything.”

“Thanks,” you murmur. Your stomach rumbles loudly in the silence, making you chuckle awkwardly.

“Hungry?” He jokes, but is half serious. “I was planning to get something on the way home, if you’d like to join.”

You think it over for a moment. Your mind immediately jumps to say no because you think your partner is home...but they aren’t.

“Sure,” you say. “Why not. What’s on the menu?”

You gather your things and Hotch waits patiently, rattling off some ideas for food to eat until one grabs your attention.

Your phone buzzes with a text. Where are you?

Aaron notices your change in posture with a sigh. “Is that them?”

You nod slowly. “Asking where I am.” You quickly type back, Still at the BAU.

The reply is almost immediate, as always. Just checking. Love you.

Relief washes over you as you type back, Love you too.

Aaron doesn’t like what he sees. The panic that surges through you just from a text message, making you stand up straight, hold your breath, clench your jaw. Then the relief that relinquishes you when a reply comes and it isn’t negative for once. The sudden changes, the way your emotions are yanked back and forth. He hates it.

But he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he says, “Ready?” And waits for you to smile.

+++

Hotch really doesn’t mean for dinner with you to turn into somewhat of a routine. But it does.

It’s brought more smiles to your face than Hotch thinks he has ever seen in the past six years. And for that, he doesn’t regret the dinners.

Neither do you, until the worst thing that could possibly happen ends up happening one night, three weeks since the first dinner.

Your partner is going out with friends, so you think you’re in the clear to get dinner with Aaron. And when your partner asks where you are again, you say you’re still at the BAU. You were, but you and Aaron were in the elevator to leave when you sent that message.

The two of you grab dinner at one of your favorite spots, at a table outside because the weather is perfect, the sky is clear, and stars are beginning to show. It’s magical. Until it’s a nightmare.

“Well, well, well.”

The voice sends shivers down your spine. They’re supposed to be out with friends.

Aaron automatically stands, shoulders squared and face set. He’s wearing his gun, and you are, too, but you’d never use it on your partner. You can’t say the same about Hotch, though, and that terrifies you.

“Babe,” you say with a smile, and Hotch tenses, hearing the pet name fall so easily form your lips. “What are you doing here? I thought you were going out with your friends?”

Your partner crosses their arms over their chest. “And I thought you were still at work.”

“We are,” Hotch speaks up, startling you. “We’re discussing a case.”

Your partner looks around, raising their eyebrows. “I don’t see any papers.”

“Because we went digital five years ago,” Hotch replies coolly. “But aside from that, a federal investigation is none of your business.”

You swallow thickly, waiting for your partner’s reply.

But to your surprise, they only nod. “I understand, sir. I was only checking.”

Hotch holds back a scoff, but instead returns the nod. “If you’ll excuse us.”

Your partner holds their hands up in surrender. “Of course.”

“I’ll see you at home,” you say quickly. “Love you.”

“See you at home,” they reply, making you frown as they turn and walk away.

When you look back at Hotch, you nearly scream. It takes everything in you not to make the hugest scene right there, outside this nice restaurant, underneath these stars.

Your phone buzzes. One hour. Do not be late.

“Y/N—”

“Don’t,” you say quietly. “Just. Don’t, Hotch.”

+++

The next day, you knock on Hotch’s office door, twenty dollar bill in hand to pay him back for your dinner last night. You left in a hurry and didn’t get to pay. Thankfully, at least, arriving home with forty minutes to spare saved you from an even worse reaction from your partner.

“For dinner last night,” you mumble, sliding the twenty across Hotch’s desk. “Thank you.”

As you turn on your heel to leave, Hotch calls out to you. “I’m sorry.”

You sigh. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Aaron says, making you turn back around. “I hope you’re...alright.”

You’re so very far from being “alright” that you almost laugh. Instead, you shrug. “It’s been worse.”

“Did they hit you?”

You’re too shocked to move. “What? No! Why the hell would you even say that?”

“Because I’ve been worried about you.”

“They have never laid a hand on me,” you snap. “Ever.”

“But they’ve come close,” Aaron says gently. “You know they have.”

You only scoff. You feel hurt. Insulted, even, that he would assume something like that. Your relationship with your partner is rocky, of course, but never physical abuse rocky. Never that bad.

But has it come close?

Sure, maybe you’ve felt the wind off a beer bottle when it grazed by your head on its way to the wall. Maybe you have had to duck to avoid getting glass to the face. Maybe.

Maybe they have come close. Closer than you want to admit.

But they’ve also loved you. Held you while you cried. Rewarded you after you cleaned up the broken glass. Left you flowers and jewelry and love notes.

They love you. Don’t they?

“It’s fine,” you whisper, blinking back the stubborn tears that have jumped to the front of your eyes. “They love me.”

“Love isn’t violent,” Aaron replies gently. “Love shouldn’t make you as terrified as I saw you when you left last night.”

“I know,” you choke out. “But I don’t know what to do.”

Hotch is rounding his desk and gathering you in his arms before the first tear slips down your cheeks. He holds you while you cry, letting you get it all out.

“We’ll figure it out,” he whispers, resting his chin on top of your head. “Don’t worry.”

+++

It all comes to a head a few nights later when your partner springs a question on you. The question.

There, standing in the bathroom, you’re too stunned to speak.

“What d’you say, baby? Let’s get married, you and me.”

You don’t reply. You toss the makeup wipe in your trash can, flick the light in the bathroom off, and walk out into the bedroom.

“Baby?” They ask.

You’re facing the dresser, halfway to setting out a pair of pants for work tomorrow. “I...I can’t.”

“What?” Their reply is immediate and angry. “What are you talking about?”

“I can’t,” you repeat, refusing to change your answer. “No.”

By the time you turn around, they’re standing up from the bed, arms crossed over their chest. “What did you just say to me?”

“I said no,” you say firmly. “I’m not marrying you.”

“And why not?”

“I—”

“Are you seeing someone else?”

“What?”

“Your boss? Are you fuckin’ him?”

“No!”

“Then why won’t you marry me?”

“Because I don’t want to!”

You’ve never raised your voice back at your partner. They’ve always been the one to raise their voice, and you stayed silent, tried to talk them down, be the quiet voice of reason.

But not anymore. You’ve had enough.

“You don’t want to?” They scream. “It’s been eight years and now you don’t want to. You’re fucking him, aren’t you?”

“I’m not,” you say through gritted teeth. “But I don’t want to be with you anymore.”

“Baby…” They sigh, stepping closer, lowering their arms. “Why not?”

“Because,” you reply slowly, backing up. “Just because.”

“That’s not a good enough reason and you know it.”

“It’s good enough for me,” you say. You step to the side and keep backing out into the hallway, getting ready to run if need be.

“Where are you going?” They all but growl. “What’s wrong with you?”

You’re scaring me, you want to scream, but you don’t. “I’m fine.”

“You’re fine? Well I’m for damn sure not fine, I’m heartbroken,” they seethe. You see the tell-tale signs that they’re about to get angry — angry enough to start throwing things. You realize in a moment of horror that a paperweight is within their reach.

And they reach for it.

“Don’t,” you murmur, freezing when their fingers wrap around the glass. “Put it down.”

“Why?” They ask, calm as ever. “Don’t you want to see what you’ve just done to my heart?”

You shake your head slowly. “No. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, no!” Your reflexes have gotten better since being at the FBI, and you duck right in time. The paperweight crashes against the wall behind you, shattering, denting the wall, and covering the couch in fine pieces of broken glass.

“See what you’ve done!” Your partner screams. “This could’ve been easy! You could’ve said yes!”

You spot your car keys on the counter next to you, and when they turn their back to you to grip at their hair, you slide the keys off and into your pocket.

I have to get out of here. It’s a thought that you never have. Normally by now you’d be vacuuming up the glass on the couch, apologizing every five seconds, pouring them a glass of whiskey or a beer or something. But not now. Not anymore.

You’re a few steps from the door when your partner notices. “Where the fuck are you going?”

“Nowhere,” you freeze. “Go take a shower. Cool off. I’ll clean up this mess and then we can talk about this again, okay?”

They almost don’t accept your offer, but after a second, they nod. “There better be a beer waiting on me when I get out.”

“Of course,” you smile.

Your smile makes them suspicious, but they turn and head into the bedroom without another word.

Shaking, you turn to the closet to grab the vacuum, turning it on and beginning to suck up the glass off the couch.

But when you hear the shower curtain pull closed, you escape, leaving the vacuum running.

+++

It’s pouring down rain, you aren’t wearing any shoes, and you’re knocking on your boss’s front door. Can your life get any more pathetic?

When Aaron opens the door, he’s practically hauling you inside and out of the rain.

“What’s wrong?” Aaron asks, already leading you down the hall toward the bathroom. “You’re shivering, we need to get you out of these clothes — you aren’t wearing shoes, fuck, Y/N, what happened?”

“They asked me to marry them,” you choke out. You aren’t even crying. You haven’t cried yet at all. “I said no. They almost hit me.”

Aaron feels a dangerous surge of anger course through his body. “Did they hit you?”

You shake your head, and it turns into a full-body shiver.

“Okay,” Aaron says, taking a deep breath to ground himself. “Okay, let me get some clothes for you. Do you want to take a shower?”

You shake your head again.

“Okay, that’s okay. I’ll be right back.”

You sit, shivering, on your boss’s toilet for a few minutes before he returns with clothes. A t-shirt and pair of sweatpants of his. Old ones, he says, they don’t fit him anymore. You smile slightly when you realize the shirt is from his college, the sweatpants from his law school. No wonder they don’t fit him anymore.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” you say. “I—I think I left my phone there.”

“It’s okay,” Aaron shakes his head. “Don’t worry about that. Just get changed and get warm. Do you want some tea? Anything?”

“Just some water, please,” you murmur. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” he smiles.

After he leaves, you change out of your wet clothes and into his shirt and sweatpants. You carefully hang your wet shirt and shorts over the edge of the bathtub, hoping that’s okay.

You venture out of the bathroom and follow the noise into the kitchen where you find Aaron putting up dishes.

“Hey,” he murmurs, straightening up. “Do you want ice with your water?”

“Um, sure.”

The sound of ice clinking into the glass makes you flinch, and you’re grateful Aaron’s back is turned away from you.

“There you go,” he hands you the glass.

“Thank you.”

You sip it quietly while he goes back to putting up the rest of the clean dishes in the dishwasher. Once he finishes, your heart is still racing, now with guilt from coming here unannounced. What if he was on a date? What if Jack was here?

“The guest room is all yours,” Aaron says softly. “If you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

You nod slowly. “I don’t know what to do.” You pause, rubbing your thumb over the condensation on the glass. “But I told them I’m not marrying them. But I...I didn’t tell them I was leaving. Or where I was going.”

“Good, that’s good.”

“No,” you shake your head. “It’s not. They’re gonna be mad. I can’t— Oh my god, I can’t go back. Not alone, they’ll—”

“Hey,” Aaron shushes you, walking around the counter to get to you. “Don’t worry about it right now. We’ll figure it out. I’ll go with you. You won’t be alone.”

“Thank you.”

+++

The next morning, you and Aaron head into the office early so you have time to grab your go-bag and change into your work clothes that you left in there.

Thank God for having a job like this where it’s normal to have a few changes of clothes, a toothbrush, deodorant, and anything else you need in a duffle bag under your desk.

You and Aaron are the first people in the BAU, so you’re able to grab your bag and head to the bathroom to change without any questions. Once you return, you stuff the bag back under your desk and sit down, ready to bury yourself in reports for the day.

But before you can, Hotch calls you into his office.

“What’s up?” You ask when you step into the doorway.

“We didn’t eat breakfast,” he says, and that’s when you notice the two coffees and muffins sitting on his desk.

“Oh,” you chuckle. “I completely forgot.”

“Me too,” he smiles. “Here, sit.”

The two of you eat the breakfast in silence, but somehow you don’t mind it. You’re not in much of a talking mood, anyway.

Rossi arrives next and stops by Hotch’s office, not at all surprised to find the two of you eating together, though he does join with his coffee a few minutes later. The silence vanishes with Rossi, leaving laughter in its wake as he tells old stories about Hotch.

When the rest of the team arrives, they follow the noise to Hotch’s office, and soon you’re surrounded by your family. Your real family.

Once eight-thirty rolls around, you all begin to disperse, back to your respective spaces to start working for the day, and everything feels normal.

And then, in a matter of seconds, it isn’t.

The second your eyes land on your partner standing down in the bullpen, you fall to your knees, scaring the shit out of Hotch.

“What happened?” He blurts, kneeling down to you. “Are you okay?”

“No,” you shake your head. “No, no, no...No, Hotch, they’re out there.”

Hotch doesn’t need their name. The fear on your face is enough.

About this time, you hear Derek’s voice growing in volume. The most you can make out is, “Put...down…!” And that’s when your blood runs ice cold.

You pat your right hip, hoping, praying, your weapon is magically there, even though you know it’s not. You put it in the safe when you got home last night. You didn’t have time to grab it before you ran out and drove to Hotch’s place. You left it there, in the safe, because you never think twice about it since it’s locked away.

But now…

“Don’t do this, man,” Derek yells. “Put. It. Down.”

“Where is she?” Your partner yells. “Tell me where she is!”

“I’m not telling you shit until you put the gun down,” Derek says, firmly. You’re frozen in place, on the floor next to Hotch’s desk as you listen.

“They have my gun,” you whisper to Hotch. “I didn’t think they— I don’t know how they knew the code, I change it every week, I thought—”

“Hey, hey, don’t worry,” Hotch shushes you. “You stay here. Do not move. Try to get under my desk if you can.” He pauses. “There’s an extra pistol underneath. I want you to grab it just in case.”

You nod, but then a memory of last night grips you. “No! You can’t go out there!” You hiss, gripping Hotch’s arm.

Outside, you hear Emily’s voice adding to Derek’s, trying to talk your partner down. It’s a scene out of a horror movie. Straight from your worst nightmare.

“They already feel threatened by you, they’ll just shoot you the second they see you.”

“Not when they already have five guns on them.”

“Let me come with you,” you offer.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Aaron, I have eight years of experience talking them down. I know what I’m doing.”

Hotch doesn’t like that you’re right.

“Are you sure?” He asks.

You nod. You’re shaking all over, but you still nod.

“Okay. Crawl over and grab the pistol from my desk. Tuck it in your waistband, on your back. Go now.”

You stay low as you crawl over, finding the pistol strapped underneath his desk on the right side. Once it’s tucked in your waistband, you stand, facing the window. Hotch stands too, with his back to the blinds, and thank God they’re closed.

“Is she in there?” You hear your partner scream. “Is she with him?”

“Shit,” you mutter. “Shit, shit, shit, they’re gonna fucking kill me.” You hate that the possibility is very real. They have your gun. They could shoot you the second they see you. You’re not wearing any protective gear.

“No,” Hotch replies. “I’m not letting that happen.”

“Come out here, you lying bitch!”

Hotch looks ready to kill your partner himself.

“Babe?” You call out, putting on a false tone, the same one you always use when talking them down. “Babe, what are you doing here?”

You step into the doorway, feeling another frozen chill of fear shoot straight down your spine. They look crazed. Insane, even. Worse than you’ve ever seen, worse than last night, worse than the last eight years.

“Don’t babe me,” your partner seethes, but the gun is still trained on Derek.

You know it makes no sense, but you want them to turn the gun on you. Not Derek. Derek can’t be hurt because of you, not like this.

“Put the gun down,” you say, trying to stay calm and sweet, the way you usually have to be at home.

“I’m not listening to a damn thing you say,” your partner yells, and then the gun turns on you. “There he is.” The gun isn’t aimed at you. It’s on Aaron.

“Put it down,” Aaron’s level voice floats through the terror roaring in your ears. “I won’t ask again.” He shifts and you realize then that he has his own weapon trained on your partner.

“You won’t need to. Come out from behind my fiancé you coward.”

“She’s not your fiancé,” Hotch says. “And you won’t shoot her.”

“Want to bet on it?” Your partner lowers the gun slightly, now pointing it straight at your chest. Strangely, you don’t feel any panic surge through you. It’s telling. That even now, your head is telling you, they won’t hurt me, they never hurt me before.

“Don’t do it,” Derek yells. “I will shoot you, man. Don’t do it. You have six guns pointed at you right now. Do you really want to do this?”

The metal of Aaron’s pistol bites into your lower back when you shift on your heels. Your arms are frozen by your side, too afraid to reach for the gun.

“Put it down,” Rossi yells.

“You’ve got five seconds,” Derek adds. “Don’t make me get to one. Five. Four.”

Your partner’s fingers twitch on the trigger. Aaron catches the movement. Nods once when Derek says three. And on two, Derek pulls the trigger before your partner can do it first.

A broken scream rips from your chest when the bullet lodges itself in your partner’s side, your gun clattering to the ground. Derek steps forward and kicks the gun further away, out of reach.

Hotch lifts you around your waist and pulls you back into his office, kicking the door closed with his foot.

You’re numb to everything as he sits you down on the couch, wrapping his arms around you as you finally sob, letting out every scream that you’ve been holding in.

+++

Your partner is taken to the hospital to be treated for the gunshot wound.

Hotch tells you they won’t stand a chance at being acquitted, too many charges looming over their head already without the addition of domestic violence. You hardly hear his words, but you nod like you do.

He takes care of you while the commotion outside struggles to calm down. A blanket is wrapped around your shoulders, you hug a pillow to your chest, sniffling every few minutes as fresh tears cascade down your cheeks. Spencer brings you a mug of steaming tea that you barely manage to thank him for. Hotch thanks him properly for you before softly shutting his office door.

For months, you’ve been thinking about leaving them. For so long, you’ve wondered what life might be like without them. Now, you don’t know a thing.

You don’t know what to do. Where to go. Will you have to testify in court? If you do, will you have to talk about the...abuse? The abuse that you can barely bring yourself to label blatantly as abuse even though Aaron, your brain, everyone screams at you that that’s what it is — abusive behavior.

When you were a teenager, and even in your early twenties, learning about signs of abusive, unhealthy relationships, you never thought you’d end up in one. You thought surely you’d recognize the first signs and get out of there.

But instead, you did exactly what they said most people do. You brushed them off. You thought, oh, they just love me deeply, that’s all. They want what’s best for me, that’s all. They want me to be safe and protected, that’s all.

And that’s lovely, but there’s a difference. Between caring and controlling.

You never thought the difference would be so hard to see.

“Come on,” Aaron’s soft voice pierces through your thoughts. “Let’s get you out of here.”

You blink. “Where?”

“Wherever you want to go,” he replies gently. “Your apartment?”

Immediately, you shake your head. But then you pause. Because aside from your apartment and the BAU, you have nowhere else to go.

“Would you be comfortable going back to my apartment?” He asks. “I understand if it’s uncomfortable. I’m sure Garcia or Prentiss would be happy to let you stay with them, and I’ll gladly send them home with you.”

As much as you love Garcia and Prentiss, you strangely feel more comfortable with Aaron. After all, Pen and Emily don’t— or didn’t know about your partner’s behavior. Only Hotch knew.

“If you don’t mind, I’m...I’m okay with your place.”

“I don’t mind at all,” he smiles. “The guest room is yours for as long as you need.”

That makes you smile, though the expression feels foreign on your lips. “Don’t you have to stay?”

“It can be dealt with tomorrow,” he replies. “The paperwork will still exist tomorrow at eight a.m.”

“Okay,” you accept defeat. “Can I take this blanket?” You don’t like the idea of this weight leaving your shoulders.

“Of course,” he says.

You fall asleep in the car.

You didn’t mean to, but you were exhausted. And by the time you woke, Aaron had already carried you into his apartment. Startled, you gripped his arm a little too tight, but he shushed you carefully, letting you know you’re safe, he just didn’t want to wake you because you were sleeping so soundly.

He set you down on the guest bed where you tried and failed to get some rest last night, but now, you sleep like a baby.

+++

Months after the incident, the guest room at Aaron’s apartment has become your temporary home.

You still haven’t been back to the apartment you owned with your partner — even though their name is on the lease, not yours. You went once with Aaron to pick up your clothes and anything else important, but it was a quick trip. You were desperate to get out of there.

Aaron didn’t like what he saw. The broken glass, the dents in the walls. The way your body language changed immediately. Your unwillingness to return there is fine by him.

It’s a slow, uphill battle as you begin to heal. Your partner still sits in jail, awaiting their trial date. You know you might have to testify, but you know your team might have to be there as well, so that makes you feel better.

Aaron has been incredibly respectful of your space. You were the one who brought up the idea of carpooling to work, one of you driving every other day, to save on gas for the both of you. He had assumed you wanted to drive on your own and always have your car — which is true, but you didn’t mind riding with him.

He’s the only one your terrified brain doesn’t seem to be scared of.

And you’re not complaining. You’re grateful to feel a small ounce of safety after feeling every sense of unsafe for the past eight years.

+++

Your ex-partner’s trial comes and goes in the following three months. You did testify, along with the rest of your team, the verdict is guilty. Life in prison.

You wept on the steps of the courthouse from the sheer relief of it all.

“They’ll never hurt you again,” Aaron had told you and you didn’t believe him for one second.

Still now, as you know for a fact they are sitting in a prison cell, you have a small fear. But you think you always will.

You continue “rooming” with Aaron — that’s the best way you can think to put it — and you’ve come to really enjoy the weekends when Jack comes over. At the start, Aaron would try to take Jack out to the park to give you time alone, or you’d go spend some time with Penelope, but after a while, you started staying. And after a little while longer, Jack started warming up to you, and expecting your presence.

One weekend, you hear Jack and Aaron playing in the living room while you’re in Aaron’s office, trying to get some work done. And halfway through signing your name on a piece of paperwork, you hear Jack “whispering” to Aaron about you.

“Do you like her?” Jack whispers, but it definitely comes across as more of a soft shout.

Aaron’s eyes widen, and he presses his index finger to his lips. “A lot,” he says, but you don’t hear him — though you were straining pretty hard.

“Me too,” Jack giggles. “Is she your girlfriend?” He teases, poking his dad with his Lego sculpture.

Aaron pokes his son back with his own design. “No, buddy, she isn’t.” Again, you can’t hear him, but Jack’s question made your heart hammer in your chest.

You know you’ve had some feelings begin to develop because truthfully, they were blooming months ago, back when you began having dinner with Aaron. But then everything happened, and you still loved your ex, and things got too complicated.

Now, though, seven months out from the start of it all, the feelings are still there.

Aaron hasn’t made any moves, so you’ve kept silent. You don’t know how much of his good deeds are simply out of his own kindness. And you certainly don’t want to mistake it for something it’s not.

But kids pick up on things adults try hardest to hide.

You continue with your paperwork, listening to them continue to play.

It’s not until after Jack goes home to Hailey that his question is brought up, and it’s only because Aaron asked what was bothering you.

“It’s alright if you don’t want to talk about it,” he says. “But I’m here if you do.”

He’s always here. That’s what made you have a crush on him in the first place, years ago. He’s always there for anyone who needs him.

“I heard you and Jack earlier,” you start. “When he asked if I’m your girlfriend.”

Aaron sighs. “I’m sorry. I think it’s just confusing for him because to him, living together equals relationship since all he’s known is me and Hailey—”

“I’d like to be,” you interrupt his nervous rambling. “If that’s something you’d like, too.”

He blinks a few times, then smiles. “You…” He pauses. “Are you sure?”

“Aaron, I’ve liked you for so long and never said anything—”

“I’ve liked you for so long and never said anything,” he counters. “You’re serious?”

“Very,” you whisper.

When he kisses you, it’s what you’ve longed for all this time. It’s exactly what you’ve been yearning for. It’s exactly the kind of love you know now that you deserve.

Recovery has been messy, and will continue to be messy for some time, but you’ll have Aaron next to you every step of the way. Always.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner fluff #tw domestic violence #tw abuse #criminal minds #version of you song fic #criminal minds songfic #aaron hotchner songfic #version of you #hotch x fem!reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you

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mxtantrights · 3 years

Text

The magic-spy and the bird

the best friends brother trope is in my top 5 tropes. but I've also got a thing for angst. So here we areeeee. enjoy! <3

dick Grayson x f!reader

Jason Todd had asked you specifically to ask his brother out. And he did use the word brother, which you made a point to bring up. He shot it down but still decided to push his message towards you. You should ask Dick out. It wasn’t that simple.

“Jay I don’t think you’ve thought this through.” you said.

He chuckled, “Of course I did. I wouldn’t say it out loud if it wasn’t a well-cooked plan.”

You made a face at him.

“Okay look, all I'm saying is you’ve got nothing to lose. If anything you're way out of his league.” he said and then gulped down the rest of his beer.

You didn’t like beer and so you worked on a Pina colada. You had done the whole beer thing for years now. As a trained spy it was your go-to for missions at bars. Safe to say you were sick of ales, craft beers and everything in between.

“Ah yes, the magic using spy.” you nodded your head.

Jason nodded along with you.

“Exactly. Bird brains would eat that up.” he said.

“And when would I tell him that I knew about his secret identity? Before I tell him about mine or after?” you asked.

Jason sighed and raised his hand for another beer. You rolled your eyes at this. Once he had a thought it was very hard for him to let it go. Especially when it included a thought about people he cared for- no matter how much he claimed the opposite.

“All Im saying is, you never know until you try.”

“What are you a fortune cookie?”

“Fuck off. I’m being serious and I do give great advice you can ask Duke.”

2 DAYS LATER

You look at Caliban with bated breath. He had just gotten info on a magic-based rebellion. Work was tight when you rolled with the good guys for too long of a time. You blame that on two men on your life, Jason and Constantine.

“I’ll put in a good word for you.” he says.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it. And any-”

Before you can finish telling Caliban that he can call in a favor from you at anytime your surroundings change. In a flash you go from one of the underworld crime bars to a room you’ve never been in before.

You look around and sure enough you see the culprit. Constantine.

“There she is!” he smiles.

Not only did he summon you, he did so in front of an audience. Circled around him is Gotham’s crime fighting family. All of them except Jason, Cass and Duke. All of which know about your secret identity and would’ve stopped Constantine from summoning you. The rest of the family are all looking at you liked you’ve grown a second head.

You look down at what you’re wearing. The long sleeve off the shoulder skin tight black dress was the perfect choice for the club you were supposed to be in. Maybe not so much for a meeting with the Bats and his birds.

You look right ahead at Constantine, “I don’t like being summoned.”

“Ah, but you’re the best person I know for this job. I had to get you over here.” he says.

You take a quick look at all the other people in the room. Then at the screen behind them. Your information is plastered on it. Well, the information that you’ve decided to let the government think was yours. Your codename was at the top of the screen.

“Constantine says that you’re the best way into the underworld.” Batman says.

You’re confused to say the least. Constantine was Constantine, why would he call you in order to get them into the underworld when he can do it himself? It defeats the purpose of having to call him.

“I’m sorry,” you direct to Batman and then look at your friend, “I need you to state specifically what I’m needed for.”

Constantine moved from the family over to you. As he did you watched as Nightwing followed him with his own eyes. Now Dick knows you’re not just Jason’s friend from around Gotham. Great.

“Bats got intel that something it going down with this magic group, the-” he starts. “hex mutiny.” you finish.

“You already know about them?” Nightwing says.

“I was just getting someone to put in a good word for me with them before you summoned me here. You’ve got great timing you know that?” you say to Constantine.

He smiles, “Well then it seems like you can be of great service, spygames.”

“And what exactly would I be doing, if I can even get a spot with them?” you throw out the question to the family.

Red Robin crosses his arms, “We need someone on the inside to tell us what they are planning for Gotham.”

“I doubt they’d let a newbie in on their plans.”

“Good thing you won’t be a newbie.” Batman says.

Constantine conjures an amulet in his hand. You want to hit him over the head. He could really be a pain in the ass. You grab it from him.

“With this, you’ll be in the perfect position to get in and get out. Easy.” he says.

You shake your head, “Every time you say that I get a new scar.”

“I promise sweetheart. No scars this time.”

“Yeah yeah, you owe me for this.”

EXACTLY ONE WEEK LATER

You knew you would end up wounded. Typically with Constantine it was nothing deadly, or nothing your own magic couldn’t fix. But you knew that your luck had to run out some day. And it wasn't his fault.

After finding out what the group was really up to you couldn’t just let them operate. They weren’t really rebels. No they used that name to paint a narrative. They were fascists.

You held the wound to your waist to stop the bleeding. This would have to be the farthest you could go. There was no way you could run out of this. Not with the blood seeping through the cracks of your fingers.

At least you brunt the members down to the ash. It took a lot out of you. And that’s why you weren’t prepared for a hit that tore right through you.

“Why aren’t you moving?” Jason, or Redhood, said through the comms.

You leaned against the hallway wall.

At least you’d die someplace pretty. When you first came in you didn't notice how clean and meticulous everything was. There were painting of famous magicians on the walls. Along with some stolen art, a Van Gogh or two.

You ripped the amulet off your neck and felt the illusion fade. The necklace fell to the floor and you let out a pained breath.

“I think,” you coughed and on the clean wall was not splatters of blood, “this is it.”

You could hear Jason shouting on the other end. He was calling out your name, calling out for Constantine to come and help you. Duke was calling for you too. And you could’ve sworn you heard Cass say your name once.

With your only free hand you tried to open a portal out of the base. You knew it would be useless as you had a mortal wound and portal magic works best under no stress and panic, or blood loss. The usual light from your hands glowed faintly until it didn’t.

“Constantine can’t summon you?” Dick asked.

At that you let your body drag down the wall until you reached the floor. When you did sit down more blood came out. So you decided to lay down horizontally.

“Hey hey- I told you I wasn’t gonna let anything happen to you.” you hear Constantine through the comms.

You want to laugh, but it ends out more of a chocked gargle.

“I screwed up the mission. I deserve it.” you said.

“You did good. Better than any of us.” Batman said.

“Constantine you need to call in whatever favors you have to get her out of there. Now!” Jason shouted.

“Dont,” you started.

“No. We’re getting you out of there-”

“Jason, I’m not a saint. I never would’ve imagined going out like this.” you said.

Once you were born you were thrusted in this world. All you knew was to use magic as a weapon. To get ahead, to get power, to get the glory. And that lasted you until you turned 19.

Then Constantine crossed paths with you. He was the one to show you that magic has other uses. Such as helping and healing. You learned the best stuff from him. And you took what you learned and began to help in ways you could.

You didn’t go on the straight and narrow. Never did you consider yourself a morally correct person. Sometimes the lines were blurred, or they need to be blurred. And so you took down seedy organizations, went on recon missions all over the world.

It wasn’t justice. But it was close enough that you could sleep at night or the odd hours of the morning for more than four hours.

“Sweetheart I don’t break my promises.” Constantine said finally.

You were just beginning to feel your eyes grow heavy. The pain was starting to be comfortably numb. Then above you appeared someone you weren’t expecting in the slightest.

“Caliban?” you asked.

“You owe me double.”

4 DAYS LATER

When you woke up you felt battered and weak You weren’t used to these feelings and you weren’t used to being so close to death. Everyday was a new experience when you’re the Priestess of Espionage.

You cracked open one eye to find a couple of deviants at your side. Jason, Duke and Cass. The youngest took the chair next to you while Duke and Jason seemed to take the floor. Since they weren’t in their gear you guessed that you were out for longer than a couple of hours.

“Not my version of hell but I’ll allow it.” you say in a raspy voice.

It wakes everyone up.

Jason and Duke bolt to your bedside.

“Why’d you almost die on me?” and “Are you feeling okay?” come from them both, respectively. It makes you want to laugh but when you feel the ache in your waist you stop yourself.

“I’m alive, so there’s that. Positives.” you answer.

Jason shoots his younger siblings a look and they scurry out the room. You try to sit up to ask what it was for but he puts his hands up for you to stop any movement. So you lay back down.

“He would kill me if you tore your stitches.”

You shut your eyes, “Jason I don’t think Constantine would kill you per say.”

You hear the door opening so you decide to open your eyes. And sure enough you see Jason leaving the room and someone coming in. Dick Grayson, out of his suit as well.

As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t read his face. Besides the clear betrayal that was there. He definitely knew that you knew he’s Nightwing.

“Hi.” you say.

His face softens, “Hi.”

“I just want to say that I would’ve told you about who I am. Sooner that you think actually but this mission kinda derailed all of that.” you say.

With his arm crossed over his chest he nods, “How long did you know I was Nightwing?”

You wince.

“For about two years now. Once Jason told me he was Red it was hard to not notice the similarities of the Wayne family and the Bat one.”

He laughs at that and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. It must be going good if he wants to laugh.

“And when did he tell you that I like you?” he asks.

“He didn’t explicitly say that.”

There’s a beat of silence. You’re looking at him and he’s looking at you. But he’s the one who seems to be holding his breath this time. You try to hide the smirk you feel forming on your lips.

“What?” he asks.

“Jason had told me that I should ask you out. He didn’t say anything about you liking me.” you answer him.

The red tint that covered Dick Grayson was absolutely adorable.

He nods his head to himself. Twice.

“I- I’m gonna get Jason for you.” he moved to the door. And you don’t really know what to say. All your words get jumbled in your brain and you can’t put them together in a way that is smooth enough so you deicide to just try your best.

“If you were to ask me out, I would say yes.” you say.

He looks directly at you. Then his signature smirk appears.

“I’ll bring back some food for later.” he says.

“it’s a date.” you answer.

#dc x reader #Dick Grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #Dick Grayson imagine #nightwing imagine #dc imagine #dc #nightwing #Dick Grayson #Jason Todd x reader #Jason todd imagine

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dameronology · 3 years

Note

Can you Please do number 4 OR number 1 with Matt

matt murdock + 4) "i can't call you a stranger, but i can't call you" - tell me how, paramore

Matt knew your body inside and out; he had your little mannerisms and all your cues. Nobody else noticed how much your voice dropped when you were stressed, or the fact you walked ever so slightly faster when you were excited. Not even you knew that your heart picked up every time you were around someone you loved, or that the tips of your fingers were a little drier than your hands because you always forgot to moisturise them. Your body, to him, was like a map; one that he'd explored and knew well. One that he didn't need to read, but took joy in memorising.

It was all a memory now, though. Matt still remembered it as though it were fresh in his mind from this morning but it had been months since he'd heart your heart or felt his hands in yours. It was coming up on a year, in fact; a year since you'd finally had enough and walked away. And it was funny, really - because Matt constantly went out your way to remind you of how great you were and how much you deserved. It was in remembering that worth he always preached about that you realised you'd deserved better than all those miscalls and late nights. All the days you went without hearing from him, all the arguments you'd had in which he'd danced around lies and fed you a bunch of bullshit. Even though he loved you more than anything in the world, it just wasn't enough. There wasn't enough time in the world for the man to be a lawyer, a vigilante and a partner.

So he'd sacrificed the latter - perhaps with your blessing, perhaps not so much.

Eleven months had passed and maybe you were good now. Not because you'd spoken and agreed to be, but because it felt like enough time for things to have cooled down. You'd probably taken the brunt of the break-up and if you were okay now, you figured Matt should have been too. He'd probably taken out his frustrations in his own way; on criminals, most likely. You'd just binged ten seasons of Friends and called time on your grieving.

So, when you saw him across a crowded room, you didn't feel the need to runaway. He was with Foggy, who you considered to be a friend - even if you'd met him through Matt, and consequently lost him a little in the break-up. There were no hard feelings there, either. It was only natural for him to get custody, right? Even though Foggy wasn't a child, and you and Matt had never been married (even though there had been times when both those statements were debatable).

"Matt!" you called his name with some kind of uncertain gusto.

He turned around from the pool table, looking as gorgeous as ever; tousled hair, five o'clock shadow, sleeves unevenly pulled up around his elbows and tie loosened. That was your favourite version of him. He wasn't work Matt, or vigilante Matt. He was just Matt. Hanging out with his friends, beer in one hand and a pool cue in the other. That's how you'd met him, and it was how you liked to remember him.

"Wow, hi," the lawyer greeted you with a smile.

He was stood with a blonde woman - she was tall and slender and beautiful, and had a warm smile. From the way she was stood, you didn't think she was involved with your ex. Why was that even a concern of yours? Just natural, you figured. Some part of you would always love him and hence, some part of you would always want him to be yours (of course, he always would be - in the same way some part of him would always want you to be his).

"I forget you guys always hang out here," you said. "I just stopped in to use the restroom, to be honest."

"They're disgusting, right?" the blonde chimed in.

"Oh, awful," you replied. "I don't know how Josie keeps this place open."

"Well, she has some pretty good lawyers," she grinned. "I'm Karen, by the way. The unofficial secretary of Nelson & Murdock."

"Nice to meet you," you tried to hide the relief in your voice. She was just the secretary. You stuck out your hand, offering your own name in return.

"Did I just hear who I thought I heard?" the cries of the drunker half of Nelson & Murdock came across the bar. "Oh my god, I did! It's you! It's really you!"

"Hi, Foggy - oof!" you greeted the lawyer, letting out a squeak as your chests collided in a tight hug.

"It's so good to see you here!" he exclaimed. "And you've met Karen, too!"

"How do you guys know each other?" Karen kindly asked.

Ah yes, the question you were dreading. She hadn't visibly reacted when your name had been revealed, which lead you to believe that Matt probably hadn't said anything too incriminating. He was habitually keeping to himself now, letting the introductions play out before he stepped back in.

"College," you quickly said.

"Oh, we were friends alright!" Foggy grinned, turning his attention to Karen. "I had the BIGGEST crush on them, but so did Matt, but we were all friends, and then they were way more than friends for - what was it? Like five years? Then they broke up and they were really not friends after that, and...oh no, I've made it awkward, haven't I?"

"I think it was awkward before that," Matt bit his lip. "But you certainly haven't helped the case."

"What Foggy is saying, is that..." you trailed off. Actually, what the fuck was Foggy saying?

"We're not exactly strangers," Matt finished the sentence for you.

It was a weird position to be in. One day you'd been each other's everything, and now you'd gone eleven months without speaking. You were the opposite of strangers, but you definitely couldn't pick up the phone to call him for a chat, or to wish him a happy birthday. There was some kind of weird middle ground; your relationship was history. Your relationship had a lot of history, before the thing itself became history. Just a lot of...the past being the past. Even if it sucked.

"Since you're not exactly strangers," Karen began. "I propose you join us for a drink."

You glanced over at Matt for some kind of signal- and even though he couldn't physically see it, you knew that he'd know. That was all but confirmed when he gave you a subtle thumbs up, hand disguised by the pool-stick so that only you could see it.

"It is a Friday," you said. "I guess one drink won't hurt."

Matt smiled to himself, giving a solid nod. He'd missed you more than he cared to admit - you'd been a pretty foundational pillar in his life. It had gone a little tits-up since you'd left but he'd learnt to adjust, even if it meant making his own coffee in the morning and just hoping that his hair looked okay without your tired input.

And as you walked to the bar, he couldn't help but notice how your heart was picking up a little.

#asks #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock x you #matt murdock imagines #matt murdock fic #daredevil x reader #daredevil imagine #daredevil x you

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flightlessangelwings · 3 years

Text

Save You

Din Djarin x gn!reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: hurt/comfort, injury, blood, mild canon-typical violence, protective!Din, blindfolds, feelingssssss, my love of Pedro Pascal’s nose really shines through here

It was nothing new for you to follow the Mandalorian headfirst into danger. It was part of life as his partner, and though you had many scars and bruises from your chosen life, you had no complaints. You grew to care greatly for the bounty hunter and when the little green child joined, you quickly became attached to him as well. And you knew that Mando did too, though he was more reserved with his emotions and feelings.

He protected both you and the child, and he taught you how to better defend yourself as well. That way you could take care of yourself should anything happen. Mando wanted you to become more capable, especially now, since the child was around. You liked that he had that much respect for you to treat you as an equal, and you gladly accepted the risks of life with him.

You and the Mandalorian found yourself in a damp, dark planet on the trail of another bounty. He led the way through a series of tunnels of what looked like an old mine. You stayed close behind him with the child securely strapped to your chest for safety. You had your blaster ready in your head should anything jump out from around the corner, but so far the only movement was from you and Mando.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” you whispered as you listened to the steady beep of the tracking fob in Mando’s hand.

“Just stay close,” was all he offered in reply. Truthfully, he wasn’t completely confident either, but he didn’t want to alarm you. Ever since you and the child entered his life, his number one priority was to keep you both safe.

Just as you were about to say something, the tracking fob grew louder and the beeps became more rapid; you were close. Mando nodded to you and you raised your weapon as you stayed at his side. The tunnel was dark, but the light in his hand illuminated the way. You vaguely wondered who would hide down here where it was so dark and dusty. But then again, it provided the perfect cover for someone who didn’t want to be found.

The tunnel seemed to come to an end, and although the fob beeped wildly, there was no sign of anyone else around. You met Mando’s gaze for a moment before you both looked around to investigate. You were in a mostly empty space. It was clear that the crew who had been in this cave had quickly left their digging. The area was littered with abandoned tools and boxes, but there wasn’t a soul around.

You stepped towards a larger box that had material piled on top to get a better look when you noticed something odd. There seemed to be a small light at the top of the pile, and it looked like it had been placed there more recently. Something was off, and the Mandalorian sensed that as well. The child cooed inquisitively and you gently pat his head to keep him quiet.

“Hey Mando…” your voice was muted to not draw attention in case anyone lurked in the shadows.

He stepped up closer to you for a better look at what caught your attention. He cocked his head to the side but said nothing as he watched you reach out to investigate. Carefully, you poked at the source of the little light, but the moment your hand grazed the material the two of you froze as you both realized what it was.

It was a bomb. This was a trap.

Mando reacted quickly as he grabbed your hand and yanked you back. “Run.” The urgency in his voice was clear as he moved with haste to get you and the child out of danger.

Everything happened in a blur. You and Mando started to run, but you didn’t get too far before the explosive went off. There was enough space so you were not in direct line of fire, but it wasn’t far enough that you wouldn’t be severely hurt. The cavern lit up around you before you heard the explosion and by the time you turned around, it was too late.

But the Mandalorian was faster, and without a second thought, he jumped in front of you to shield you and the child from the brunt of the explosion. You ducked your head down and wrapped your arms around the child to try to protect him as best you could. Despite your best attempt, you were knocked off your feet from the force of the blast.

Luckily for you all, it was not a particularly strong detonator. However, you were still close enough for it to do some damage. You hit the ground with a loud grunt, and you had enough forethought to land yourself on your side to not hurt the child. He cried out, but was completely unhurt. Mando landed right next to you with a harder thunk, and you knew right away that was not a good sign. He laid on his back, and you saw that his chest barely moved.

“Din? Din!” In your panic you used his real name as you crawled over to him and shook his shoulder. You heard a soft groan through his modulator, but he stayed still.

A rustle of movement caught your attention, and you acted on instinct and shot the intruder without hesitation. In the low light, you vaguely made out the features of the bounty you both had been after, but that was the last thing on your mind right now.

With a heavy exhale, you lowered your blaster and looked down to check on the child. With a sigh of relief that he was ok, you pat the top of his head. “I need your help, little guy,” you choked back tears as you knew you had to be fast. “We need to get him back to the ship and I can’t carry him by myself.”

The child looked up at you with his big eyes and blinked once before he turned to look down at his father-figure. He seemed to understand and he lifted his little hand and closed his eyes on concentration. You watched with bated breath as Din’s body slowly rose up from the ground. Once he was more upright, you wrapped one arm around his waist and positioned one of his arms over your shoulders. Together, you and the child managed to get the Mandalorian back to the ship.

Luckily, the quarry seemed to be alone, and you didn’t encounter anyone else on the agonizing trek back to the Crest. You locked up the cargo bay behind you and carefully set Din down on the floor against the back wall in the main hull. The child slumped back against your body in exhaustion as you unfastened him from your chest and set him down in his pram.

“You ok?” you asked the child in a soft voice as you caressed his face. When he cooed at you, you smiled down at him. “Thanks for your help. I’ll take care of him. I promise.” You tried to hide the fear in your voice for the baby’s sake.

He seemed content with your words and slumped back into the pram and watched quietly as you hurried back to Din. You rummaged through your things until you found the med kit. You rushed back and sat down at his side as you checked over his injuries. Thankfully, the beskar seemed to shield his body well enough for the most part, but because you were so close to the detonator, some shrapnel got lodged underneath.

With trembling hands, you took off Din’s armor piece by piece and pushed the shredded fabric to the side to work on healing his injuries. Blood soaked his clothing, and you fought to keep your breathing steady while you worked. Din leaned back against the wall and watched you work through his visor. The helmet hid the fond expression he wore though half lidded eyes as you frantically raced against time to help him.

Your own hands stained red with his blood, but you didn’t care. You just kept whispering to him as you kept your eyes trained on the wounds.

“Hang on, Din.”

“You’re going to be alright.”

“I can’t lose you… Please…”

“Just one more bacta patch should do it.”

With a heavy sigh, you finally sat back and took in his slumped over form in front of you. Din barely moved since you set him down, and though you managed to close most of his wounds, you could tell his breathing still was labored. Fear ran through your veins as you noticed that blood dripped down his neck and realized there must be an injury underneath his helmet as well. Your hands rested on his chest as tears formed in your eyes.

Din must have read your thoughts, because he slowly rested his hands over yours and whispered your name in a weak voice.

“I know, I know,” you couldn’t hide the way your voice trembled. You looked around the hull as you tried to come up with a plan. As much as you couldn’t lose the man in front of you, you also knew how important his creed was to him and you would never ask him to break it. “There has to be a way…”

Din took in a breath to say something, but you unknowingly cut him off with an exclamation. His hand twitched on top of yours as he slightly tilted his head to the side in a questioning glance. “What is it?”

You met his visor with a newfound fire in your eyes, “I have an idea. But I need you to trust me.”

His grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly, “I trust you,” he said your name and you could feel the confidence in his voice, however weak it was.

With a nod, you broke away from him and reached out for a piece of medical wrap from the med kit. From the far corner of the room, the child cooed inquisitively; he had watched you from his pram the entire time, but was too tired from using his powers to be of much help. You looked over and met his gaze before you crossed the space to address him.

“I need you to keep this on, buddy. Ok?” You spoke in a soft voice as you tore off a smaller piece of cloth and hovered it over his eyes. You dropped it for a moment to give him your pinky instead. The child seemed to understand and he reached out and wrapped his little hand around your finger as he cooed softly in response. You gave him a smile as you tied the fabric securely around his eyes. “I’m trusting you here.”

The child started to reach up but he didn’t touch the fabric around his eyes. You watched him for a moment, and only when you were satisfied that he wouldn’t remove the cloth did you turn back to Din. You settled in front of him again as you secured your own makeshift blindfold. The Mandalorian watched with bated breath as he realized what your plan was. He made no attempt to move as you slowly reached out for his helmet once you took away your sight.

You held your breath as you rested your hands on either side of his helmet, “Din,” your voice was barely audible as you waited for him to make the final call. A gasp escaped your throat when you felt his own hands over yours again and together you slowly lifted his helmet off.

There was a tense silence in the room as Din took a deep breath of fresh air for the first time. You let go of the helmet and brought your hands back to yourself as you waited for him to set it down. When you heard the soft thud, you broke the silence, “I’m going to need you to guide my hands.”

Din let out a heavy breath of his own, “Alright,” he didn’t trust himself to say anything more, and the sound of his raw voice took you both by surprise.

Carefully, Din took your hands in his own as he led them to the med kit. Slowly, the two of you worked together to set bacta on the wounds that bled at the back of his head. You knew your lips trembled, and you figured he noticed, but he never said anything. Din hissed in pain when you put some bacta cream on the back of his head, and you whispered a soft apology in response.

When Din was sure there was enough to cover the last injury, he let go of your hands. But, instead of letting go, your hands lingered against him. You couldn’t resist the temptation, and you still had adrenaline pulsing through your system, so you ran your hands through his hair. It was damp from sweat and blood, but it was still surprisingly soft. You were careful and tender with your movements. You kept your touch light so you wouldn’t hurt him and he could lift your hand away if he wanted to.

But Din found that he didn’t want to, and he let you run your hands through his hair a few times. He sighed softly as your hands came to the front of his face and you brushed a lock of his hair off his forehead. Your fingertips traced over his face as if you tried to figure out what he looked like from touch. Din closed his eyes as you cupped his jaw with one hand while the other trailed down his nose.

You couldn’t help but smile at the feel of his skin under your hands. And though you didn’t voice it out loud, you were already fond of the shape of his nose. The hand that roamed over his face came to rest on the side of his jaw as you cupped Din’s head in your hands. You bit your lip as you tranced your thumb across his cheek, and you didn’t even realize how close your finger came to his lips until you felt his breath against your skin.

“I’m sorry,” you gasped suddenly as you started to pull your hands away, “That was overstepping. I….”

Just as you started to move your hands away, Din reached out and grabbed onto you gently. Your mouth fell open as a small gasp escaped your lips, and you tensed when you felt him place your hands back on his face.

“You didn’t overstep,” his voice was soft, and you felt his breath on your hands.

Din rested one hand over yours to keep you in place while he reached out for you with the other. His hand cupped your chin, which startled you. He was just as slow and careful with his movements as he brought you in close to his body. You fumbled, more clumsy without your sight, but you settled yourself in his lap as you faced him and you froze when you realized how intimate the position was.

The child, who stayed quiet the entire time, perked his ears up and cooed softly. He seemed to sense the growing tension in the room and he reached over and blindly searched for the button on the front of his pram. He slumped back to lay down as the top cover closed and gave you and Din more privacy. Din noticed the action out of the corner of his eyes, and he smiled slightly before he turned his attention back to you.

He felt you tremble in his grasp, and the nerves that radiated from your body were almost palpable. “It’s alright,” Din whispered as his lips hovered over yours.

“Din…” your voice was so hushed that he barely even heard you.

The Mandalorian’s eyes dropped down to your lips for a brief moment before he closed the gap between your bodies. The kiss was soft and light at first; he just tested the waters for now. But when you sighed and leaned into his touch, Din wrapped one of his arms around you and pulled you so that you were flush against him. You moaned into his mouth as you deepened the kiss. One of your hands stayed on his jaw while the other dropped down to clutch at his shoulder.

Din winced slightly at the touch, but it was nothing compared to the pain he felt before you patched him up. Besides, he would rather feel a slight sting if it meant you stayed connected to him. Din wasn’t ready to let you go just yet, not when he finally felt your touch for the first time. It was a feeling unlike any other, and he was already addicted to you.

You smiled into the kiss as you felt the warmth and security from Din’s grasp. If you were honest with yourself, you wanted this for so long, but you kept your feelings buried. But now that you had it, you never wanted to let it go. You never wanted to let him go.

“Thank you.” Din finally spoke as he broke away just enough to breathe.

“For what?” you furrowed your brows.

“For saving my life,” you could hear the grin in his voice as his thumb brushed over your skin.

You leaned in for another kiss before you smiled against him and spoke in a hushed voice that held so much emotion, “Thank you for saving mine.” A muffled coo from the corner of the room called your attention and you let out a short laugh, “Our lives,” you corrected yourself.

Din smiled against your face and made sure you felt it, “Of course,” he kept his response short and left it unsaid that he would do anything to keep you and the child safe. You both meant more to him than anything in the galaxy and there wasn’t anything Din wouldn’t do for you both. But for now, he was content to be safe in the hull of the Crest with you both, and for him to feel you against his bare skin was more than he could ever have asked for.

Notes: I love me some good hurt/comfort with Din so much and this idea just came to me randomly and I had to write it! As always, taglists are open so let me know if you’d like to be added :) And let me know what you think of this one too!

#the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x you #the mandalorian imagine #din djarin imagine #the mandalorian #din djarin #the mandalorian fic #mando x reader #mando #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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sweetestlamb · 3 years

Text

Let's Play A Love Game

Author's note: this one is rated 😈 so yeah. There was originally more angst in my mind but once I got to that part I was over it lol I'm the worst at angst I much rather make it naughty. It's more rushed than I wanted but I don't really have time to write 10k fics right now. But hopefully soon.

Summary: it's just pretend, right?

She hadn't meant to push the event in the corner of her mind until she forgot about it completely, so much so that when the e-vite showed up in her inbox she stared at it in wide eyed shock not even noticing Mi-Seon creeping up behind her.

"It's already time for that? I usually know it's coming because you start buying expensive dresses you can't afford and crying at your credit card bill. Maybe country life has really changed you hm?"

False. Inaccurate. Utterly wrong to the every core.

She lets out a shrill scream letting her head fall painfully on her desktop.

"I'm an idiot! Just kill me now, I deserve it." She has nothing to wear, okay the mountain of boxes in her living room, bedroom and some hidden in the linen closet beg to defer but none of that is worthy of this event. The annual dentist convention in Seoul, it's a week long getaway. It's meant to be an opportunity to build connections and attend professional learning classes, but that has long been abandoned. Now it is a fashion show and chance to show off your success and this year more than ever she has to impress everyone. They all look down on her and her cute little practice. Those judgemental snarky bitches.

"Do we have anymore patients?" She absently asks her best friend, only friend already getting up and walking away.

"No that was the last one. Do you want to call it a day?" She doesn't give a verbal reply lost in her phone and the disease that is online shopping, in the span of three minutes she has already added seven dresses to her cart.

"Chief Hong is going to have a long day."

It's just as Mi-seon says the next day the nosy know it all shows up glaring at her over the handful of packages in his arms.

"Don't tell me you're doing this again. What more could you possibly have to order? How much things does one woman need?" His voice is an air warmer than the last time they were in this very same position, but she tries not to think too hard about it. Their relationship is too confusing these days, as temperamental as the sea.

"Are delivery men allowed to complain this much when they're doing a job they are getting paid for?" She snarks back, snatching her packages from his arms with a huff. Ignoring the grin on his face as she disappears into her house.

"That better be all you order. I'm not coming back."

He comes back. At least six more trips, more boxes each time on the last day he doesn't simply leave after making his delivery.

"I'm coming in for tea because of you I've been working too hard." She squeaks indignantly as he pushes past her, their shoulders brushing in the tight space of the doorway.

She should wait until she doesn't have an audience but she's too impatient so while he's making the tea in her kitchen (so rude and intrusive), she starts to open a few boxes pulling out the contents. Dresses, blouses, shirts, hair accessories, lipsticks in all shades and hues, and of course shoes; heels, flats and everything in between.

"Your house looks like a department store." She jumps at his voice glancing up at him, almost laughing at the hedgehog mug that he's drinking out of that Mi-seon gave her as a joke. Leave it to him to pick the most ridiculous mug.

"Hurry up and go so I can try everything on." She starts to take the objects out and organize them, putting together possible outfits lazily.

"Why not have a fashion show?" He slurps loudly at the tea, sighing and smiling down at the warm beverage. Acting like he's never had tea before, such a plebian.

"A fashion show?"

"Yeah, model all that", he motions to the new boxes littering her bedroom floor, "and I'll let you know what looks good."

She scoffs, loudly looking at his lackluster outfit; a simple white tee tucked into dark cargo pants with suspenders.

"What do you know about fashion?" She replies meanly, despite the little voice in her mind that reminds her that while his outfits are more practical than fashionable there is something distracting about the way his shoulders fill out his shirts and the way his long legs sit in his pants.

He shrugs looking down at himself, "I'm the town handy man I have no need to look good. But I'm still a man I can tell you what I think looks good on a woman."

Oh. It's a nonchalant statement said with no real heat but the implications make her skin warm up, she's never once thought that he saw her as a woman; nor considered looking at him like a man. (Lies.)

"I--why woul--why?" She stutters through an answer, tongue heavy in her mouth. He looks back nonplussed, sitting down pointedly on her couch.

"Never took you for the shy kind. You growing bashful now Ms. Dentist?" His eyes twinkle with mischief and she knows that she's being played but she wants nothing more than to wipe that smug look off his face. Slamming her room door, she pulls off her casual house clothes and grabs the first thing that catches her attention- a buttery yellow dress that grazes her knee, pairing them with white heels and a high messy bun. A swipe of lip tint completes the look and she confidently opens her room door.

Du-sik is staring aimlessly at his phone and doesn't notice her reappearance at first, so she coughs loudly folding her arms and when his eyes land on her, a chill runs down her spine at the look that lands on her body. It's been a long time since a man looked at her in this way, his eyes are undressing her even though he was the one who implored her to dress up in the first place. She hates it. At least she should hate it. But she can't ignore the satisfaction that washes over her at his dumbfounded look, that smug look obliterated by her very first look.

"Well?" She pushes harder, twirling to give him the full look. His gasp is loud behind her, she knows exactly why. The deep revealing plunge that travels all the way to the small of her back. There's no way she would wear this to the convention much too suggestive but that's her business.

"Wher-" his voice cracks and this time she can't contain her smile, dimples flashing now at her clear affect on him, clearing his throat he tries again, "Where exactly are you going again?"

She hums turning back around, gleeful at the vibrant blush on his cheeks. So he is just a man after all.

"A dentist convention." She answers cheekily and he guffaws loudly, eyes narrowing at her like he knows exactly what she's trying to do. They stare at each other for a long moment and she ultimately breaks the stand still, realizing what's happening. It feels a lot like flirting.

Collecting herself, she barrels back into the room.

"What the hell are you doing?" She whispers to her reflection, face too flushed for her liking.

A hard knock at the door pulls her from her self chastisement, "You didn't even wait for my rating."

She sighs loudly covering her face in embarrassment at her own action. She doesn't even have alcohol to blame this time.

"I don't care. This was stupid, let's stop."

Of course he ignores her.

"I liked it. But it's too...sexy for convention. You should wear that for someone special. I doubt anyone with a beating heart would be able to resist you."

What the fuck.

This isn't who they are, when did they become comfortable enough for conversations like this? They despised each other, right? Confused and annoyingly flattered, she peels the dress off her body trying her hardest not to think about the fact that only a door separates him and her naked body.

"I would love to see the others. But I have to go, but if you want my opinion. Red is definitely your color."

"What?" She replies, but she can hear the too loud click of the front opening and then closing and just as capriciously as he arrived, he leaves.

Burying something that feels a lot like disappointment she flops onto her bed, head fuzzy like its been wrapped in cotton.

"What is going on?"

They don't see much of each other the next day and it's unusual given how much they see each other on a regular basis but she refuses to think about it or even consider that he's avoiding her. He's just busy and she doesn't care anyway, they have nothing to do with each other.

The convention is in two days now, she has her overnight bag packed with all her new purchases and the messages have been pouring in their group chat. She's mostly chosen to ignore them but on a whim she decides to check what they're so excited about, only to feel her stomach drop.

Why isn't Hye Jin answering?

Maybe she's busy with her mystery man 😉

Oh! She has to bring him, we need to interrogate him!

Yoon Hye Jin don't pretend you don't see these messages!!

That she had forgotten about.

"Why did you tell them that he's interested in you? Has living here altered your brain, you idiot." She berates herself.

"Who's interested in you? Why are you an idiot?" Mi-seon looks curious from the doorway, without waiting for an invitation she hops onto the bed with two cans of beer. She grabs one, drinking it in a flash.

"Oh it's that kind of night." Mi-seon says excitedly running to grab more beers.

"So let me get this straight, you told them that Chief Hong is interested in you and that he's been chasing you but you're not interested?"

She nods meekly, wishing the floor would swallow her up.

"Why did you lie?"

That's the brunt of the issue, she's a liar. She should have sent her initial message and told them that there was nothing between them but how could she when they were all calling him handsome and acting like she finally did something right? She'd spent that entire dinner feeling like her teenage self on the outside looking in, wanting nothing more than to be someone worthy of being included.

"I know I should have told the truth."

"Yes, you should have told them that you're interested in him too."

Huh.

Time stops as she processes the words that her best friend just uttered. There is static in her head as she tries to make sense of it.

"What are you talking about?"

Mi-seon looks at her unimpressed.

"You can both keep lying to yourself but the rest of us aren't as stupid. You're both interested in each other. It's mutual."

She wants to ardently deny the accusation but the words are caught in her throat and all she can manage are refusing sounds.

"You've been wearing red all week." Mi-seon says accusingly and she jumps up in huff, "So what? I'm allowed to wear colors!"

"You hate wearing red. You said it makes your skin look too pale. You hardly ever wear it. So color me surprised when I learned that red is the favorite color of a certain part timer."

That damn town chat. There has to be a way to get Mi-seon out of it. Maybe it was a mistake letting her live here. She was learning too much.

"Don't even bother to deny it. I won't believe anything you say. But I think you should ask him to go with you, you'll get some time alone to figure this out."

There's nothing to figure out. They are..... acquaintances who can admit that the other is vaguely attractive at times. His face isn't all that bad and she's pretty, so it's natural that there is tension at times, like he said they were still humans.

So she doesn't tell him about her fib, pretending everything is fine until it's the day of the convention and her anxiety has all but smothered her and her hands have a slight tremble in them as she starts to drive.

"It's going to be fine. Everything will be okay." She doesn't believe a word she's saying to herself, her heart is thumping in her heaving chest. She doesn't want to go alone. Convincing Mi-seon to leave was a failed endeavour, her and that police officer becoming inseparable. She knew what that smile meant when her best friend had realized that she would have the house to herself. She could barely get a word in as Mi-seon started frantically shaving her legs then pushed her out of the bathroom to "shave her wild cat".

With a sigh she starts driving, the car too quiet despite what she'd told Du-Sik and the Gongjin grannies. Uncharacteristically she turns on the radio, kpop blaring from the speakers. She recognizes the tune, never before has something as mundane as butter seemed so interesting but the kitchen essential was given new life by the song. She bops her head to the catchy beat, trying to ignore the fact that she's driving to the lion's den.

Some time later, she pulls into the hotel a valet already coming over to get her car. Grabbing her overnight bag, she exits the car handing her keys to the waiting hands of the valet.

Everyone is here and none of them had come alone, she was the only one without a plus one. They haven't noticed her yet so she watches as they all laugh at a joke she can't hear, unnecessarily stroking at their husband's chests as if to show off their exorbitantly priced wedding rings. Everything was always a competition here.

She shouldn't have come. Their was nothing about her life that they would be envious of. She was going to make a fool of herself. Impulsively she starts stepping back but it's too late, Hong In-A spots her and points her out and immediately all eyes are on her, they all start walking over to her and she wants nothing more than to run far, far away. Get on a bus and go to the beach and never see any of them ever again. But she's no longer a child, no longer that scared little girl; worked too hard to shed that skin.

Fortifying herself she puts on a fake smile. Ready for war.

"Hye-Jin ah, there you are. We were beginning to think you wouldn't come. You never responded in the group chat." Ye-Ri states with an attitude, looking around her as if searching for someone and eyes brightening when she sees no one. "Did you come alone?" This makes all of them perk up, looking around like chickens with their heads clucking. She swallows the shame the question elicits, "Who would I be with? I told you in already, it's not like that."

They all look at her with pity, it makes her want to slap them all across the face. Who were they to make her feel like shit, she didn't need anyone that didn't make her pathetic.

Finally one of the husbands cracks the awkward tension by introducing himself, she tries her best to ignore the pervasive way his eyes run down her body. Instinctively she crosses her arms, feeling naked under his stare. Nobody else notices her discomfort and after all the introductions, they all walk away as if she's no longer worth their time.

Lump in her throat she walks into the hotel, determined not to show them that they've gotten under her skin.

There's a scheduled lunch and she tries to find a new table but Sung-Mi waves her over and she doesn't see anyone else she recognizes or wants to sit with.

He hadn't been wrong, she has no friends besides Mi-seon.

"You were looking around, were you looking for someone? Are we not good enough to sit with?" The question is asked with a bite and sneer as if the idea is laughable that she would ever be better than any of them.

She swallows her pride, "No nothing like that. I was merely looking around."

Sung-Mi looks satisfied as if putting her in her place has righted her world.

They begin a conversation that completely excludes her, regaling drama that she knows nothing about and doing nothing to bring her up to date or invite her to join. It's the polar opposite of her experience in the countryside and with shocking clarity she realizes that she wishes she were there, it's only been a few hours but she misses it. Nobody looks down on her there, no usually she's the only doing that she notes with shame.

"I'll find the restroom." She says to no one because none of them are paying her any mind except the husband with the wandering eyes and she would much rather not have that attention.

Thankfully the bathroom is empty and she has to stop herself from splashing water on her face, her make-up was done perfectly it would be a waste to ruin it. Pushing her hair behind her ears she takes a deep breath and then another until her head is clearer, the noise lessening.

"It's only a day and a night. You've suffered far worst."

With that lacking pep talk she exits the bathroom, almost colliding into a wall. Wait, no it's just a person- a chest to be specific. She looks up ready to apologize when a familiar face stops her in her tracks.

"What are you doing here?" She stares flabbergasted at him, more dressed up than she's ever seen him. In a white suit with a white vest, the tee-shirt peeking under the only thing that feels like him to her. And his white sneakers. She can't hide her surprise at his sudden appearance and without thinking she starts to pull him to the side, to avoid being seen but she's not fast enough and soon they are swarmed by her colleagues, before she even has a chance to talk to him.

"Aren't you the man from the picture?" Yoo-Jin asks blushing way too much for a married woman if her husband's cold stare means anything.

"The picture?" Du-sik replies, clearly confused.

"You're the guy that's chasing after her. She told us that you liked her and you were courting her." Sung-Mi answers for her, she wants to vanish. It would be better if she had never existed. Even non-existence would be better than this embarrassing moment. "I got a picture of you two last time, when you followed her."

His eyes ping-pong between the group and her and she realizes this is his chance to ruin her. After everything she's done, all her rude comments and snobby remarks about the town and people he cares for so much, this is his chance for revenge. He can laugh and deny any feelings for her, tell them all that she's a liar and he's never been interested in her, not even once. This is what is going to happen. She prepares herself for the fall out, surely after this she won't be able to show her face in Seoul again.

He starts to laugh and her stomach tightens, her palms are so sweaty.

Here it goes.

"Oh I guess she wanted to keep me a secret."

Wait. What. That doesn't sound like denial.

"We're together now. I finally bulldozed those walls and made her mine. Nice to meet you all I'm Hong Du-sik, Hye-Jin ah's boyfriend."

Her eyes widen as he bows and starts to shake hands with the husbands, the one that stared at her looking disappointed. Their handshake goes on for a second too long, eventually with the latter pulling away with a pained look. She's too confused to consider what that means.

"And you were so cold earlier saying you had no one. Did you want to make a fool of us?"

He answers for her, "It's nothing like that, my honey is still getting used to us. I'm sorry I'm so late I had something to take care of."

Her head is spinning too fast to keep up with everything happening and she's grateful when he excuses them and guides her outside with a large hand on her hip.

Fresh air is much appreciated and she takes in huge heaps of it as soon as they're free.

Then reality crashes down on her.

He knows about her lying.

He had called her bluff.

But he didn't out her.

"Why didn't you tell them the truth?" She finally manages to say, head still reeling.

But instead of answering he's staring at her legs, then slowly his eyes swivel upward cross her thighs curving around her hips, past her breasts (a bit too slow there) before moving to her collar and settling on her face.

"You look great."

She feels the heat rushing to her face. What was he doing to her?

It hadn't been in purpose but she finds herself in red again, an a line dress with criss crossing straps over her shoulder and a middle slit. It was conservative without being too formal or professional. She'd felt comfortable in it but now seeing that look on his face, comfort is the last thing she feels.

He was distracting her and she couldn't afford that with those harpies inside waiting for her downfall. They needed to get back on track.

"What are you doing here?" She tries again, but he responds with his own question, "Why did you tell them that I was chasing you?"

"It was a mistake. They thought we were together and I just....said that for no reason." It's half the truth.

"They don't seem like your friends. You looked like you needed someone on your side, so I just found myself saying we were together for no reason."

She looks at him blankly, heart pounding now. In her moment of weakness instead of kicking her, he'd lended a helping hand. What kind of person did it make her for expecting the former?

"So what now?" She asks still in disbelief that he's here and that he'd told people that there were dating, she would be angry and offended later that they had readily believed it. Perhaps it didn't seem too farfetched now with him looking like that right now.

"Well, don't look but they're watching us through the glass."

This time she finds herself turning to look and he's the one that has to stop her, he does so by suddenly grabbing her hand and tugging her into his body. She squeaks at the collision. Leaning down so his lips are level with her ear, he speaks, "We can give them a show. I'm happy to be your pretend boyfriend."

Why?

She yearns to ask him why he's willing to go this far for her? Why was he even here when she had never told him where the convention was taking place? But his words were hot on her ear and she's tired of being their source of entertainment so she nods looking up at him, "Just this once. I'm going to lean on you. Let me borrow your eraser and copy your homework."

He stares before a blinding smile graces his handsome face.

"Let's go then." His hand is heavy on her waist as he walks back towards the hotel, taking his role very seriously it seems.

He fits in perfectly. Able to talk about a plethora of topics to anyone he's introduced to and even she's impressed by him. Be it travel, philosophy or poetry he seems well versed in everything things that even she is ignorant to and it makes her regret the way she looked down on him before, he was anything but a country bumpkin.

She leaves him to his conversation to get a drink, a whiskey on the rocks. Needing something hard tonight.

Not that. Down brain.

"Yoon Hye Jin? I would recognize that face anywhere."

Twisting to face the voice, she sees a familiar face- old classmate. Rung Do-Bae, they weren't anything more than classmates despite his many, many attempts.

His eyes sweep over her hungrily. She swallows her drink, painting on a shallow smile.

"Sunbae, how nice to see you here."

Invading her space he grabs her hand, "There is no need for such formalities. You can just call me by my name, Hye Jin ah."

As if she ever would.

Gently she tries to extract her hand but he won't let go and she doesn't want to make a scene.

Suddenly she's warmed by a body pressing into her, she knows who it is without even looking, her body relaxes immediately.

"Sorry I got lost in conversation honey. Who might this be? Another friend of yours?" He thrusts his right hand out and Do-Bae has no choice but to release her hand to return his handshake. Scarily enough she's starting to become used to his nickname, barely reacting to him using it again.

"Yes, this is my sunbae from school. Sunbae this is Hong Du Sik my....."

She knows that this is all an act, they were doing this to help her but she can't bring her tongue to form around the word, boyfriend.

"Her boyfriend." He finishes for her, pulling her tighter to his body.

But Do-Bae looks suspicious now.

"Boyfriend? I thought you were still single. You never changed your status on SNS. I've checked."

"Why are you so curious about that?" Du-sik challenges in return, doing a great job of sounding like a jealous boyfriend. She's almost even convinced.

"Hye Jin ah and I have always had a very special relationship. Beyond that of a hoobae and sunbae. Isn't that right?" He directs the last bit to her and she feels Du-sik stiffen next to her, seemingly believing these lies. So she clears that up.

"I have no idea what you're referring to honestly. We have never had anything that would constitute as a "special" relationship. I would appreciate if you didn't spread such lies, especially to my boyfriend. Enjoy the rest of your night."

She tugs Du-sik away, not waiting for a reply from the other man. The conversation was over anyway.

When they get far enough he speaks, "You have a lot of admirers."

She raises an eyebrow at the non-sequitur.

"Are you surprised?"

He brushes a hand across her cheek, making her freeze.

"No. It makes sense."

She blinks slowly before laughing, it sounds fake even to her ears.

"You should have been an actor. Your acting skills are incredible." He doesn't laugh, doesn't move before they're pulled into another conversation and she tries not to think about how tightly his body is pressed against her own.

"How is he in bed? He hasn't left you alone all day, I bet it's passionate." As soon as lunch had ended they had invited her to a spa, she'd considered saying no but she knew they would talk about her even if she wasn't there so it was best to at least know what they were saying.

Du-sik looked sad to see her go, but she told herself that she wasn't good at reading his faces. They hardly knew each other.

"I can't remember the last time I had a passionate night of sex. Kids and a full time job, leave no time for that. I'm pretty sure he's cheating on me and I'm too tired to even care." Sung-Mi confesses and she's shocked when the others nod in agreement instead of threatening to castrate him, as she'd done when Mi-seon told her about her ex boyfriend cheating.

"I have no complaints. He's... attentive. He's always touching me and pushing his way into my space. He's gentle but passionate, and I like...that he's so much bigger than me." She knows she should stop, this is definitely taking the lies too far. But that night bleeds into her thoughts, making everything she's saying feel true. He'd been so gentle with her, those huge hands cupping her face. She wondered how they would feel on other parts of her body.

"Damn. Look at you getting horny just from remembering. I'm so jealous."

Jealous. There were envious of her, it was all she'd been hoping for but the happiness she expected to erupt never comes. Instead she feels cheap, like she'd used Du-sik for her own benefit. She had tainted that night. This wasn't what she wanted.

As the day had gone on she found herself looking at him too much, he'd come all the way just for her and regardless of her brain trying to minimize that, it was huge. He hated snobby people like them who based a person's worth in their monetary success and yet he put on a smile and chatted with everyone, letting them mock his way of life and call people like him useless dreamers. All while she did nothing to defend him and drank wine, happy that they were being accepted.

He was the perfect gentleman all day and he was getting nothing in return for this. It was all just to help her.

Would a friend truly go this far to help? Was she being naive or was it like Mi-seon said, was she lying to herself?

"I'm such an idiot."

Without another word, she flees the sauna rushing to the locker room and changing back into her clothes. Nobody follows her because they aren't her friends. Why had she wasted so much time trying to impress these people who aren't even truly happy in their own lives?

The drive back is long, and she doesn't know what she's going to say but she knows that she's tired of being scared.

Leaving the key in the car she rushes past the valet, into the hotel elevator pressing their floor and waiting impatiently.

It takes three tries to get into their hotel room but once the door opens, he's right there. Sitting in the seat by the window reading a book.

"You're back early. I thought you would be gone until three?" He looks up, dog earring his book and giving her his full attention. Her heart skips a beat.

"Why did you agree to do this for me? Why go through all this trouble for me?"

It's the same question he's been asking himself since he first met her. Why was he was interested in her and why did he keep wanting to save her?

It was the desire that led to him being here.

He had accidentally overhead Mi-seon talking to Eun Chol about being worried about her, the convention was overnight and everyone would be bringing someone and she'd be all alone. The thought of her alone and isolated, made him race to her without a plan. Only stopping at a store to buy his outfit so he would fit in with her crowd, he'd spent more in that shop then he usually did in a week. But it was worth it for her.

It was a miracle that she hadn't questioned his presence more, he knew it was shameless and deceiving but none of this felt like pretending to him. His jealousy had been real, he'd had to strangle the urge to kick the pervert husband with the wandering eyes and then the insistent sunbae who wouldn't take a hint. She was a vision in the red dress and it wasn't a surprise that men found her enchanting, he just didn't like them looking at her. But she wasn't his, never would be because he couldn't confess.

They weren't right for each other.

"Do you like me?"

That question again. Last time he had laughed it off, called it absurd. But it wasn't. Not liking her would have been absurd.

"I don't know why you're asking me that."

"Because I'm tired of us lying to ourselves. Don't laugh and don't you dare say it's absurd again."

He can't respond, he's stuck on the word "us". It wasn't just him, they were an us?

Hearing that gives him courage he had long thought had been most forever.

"I wasn't pretending today. Nothing was fake to me, I meant it all." It's terrifying, unchartered land for them and he waits to see which one of them will chicken out first. It's sure to happen.

"I'm going to kiss you." She says instead of running like he expected and secretly wished for.

And then she's crossing the room and leaning down to grab his face, she watches him giving him a chance to pull away but he does the opposite, this time he meeting her half way. As soon as their lips meet the kiss is already too much, she's sliding into his lap and he wraps his arms around her tugging her closer until their chests are squished together.

He hasn't kissed anyone like this in a long time.

Hasn't been this close to losing control in a longer time.

"You're dangerous." He whispers into her mouth and she giggles at the statement, wiggling in his arms and rolling into him forcing a punched out groan from his lips.

Carefully he lifts her shirt watching her face closely for any signs that she wants to stop but finding nothing but her palpable lust.

Her skin is unbelievably smooth and soft and he can't stop himself from stroking her, rubbing at her back his hands resting right above her butt.

"How long have you felt this way?" She asks softly seductively nipping at his neck and running a hand over his shirt to caress his stomach, he physically aches for her.

"I wanted you the moment I saw you. But I didn't feel this until you convinced grandma to get her implants. That was when it became more for me."

She looks surprised and he is too, that they're speaking so candidly about feelings they've always denied.

"What about you?"

She stops licking at his neck to look him in the eyes. He's nervous to hear her reply.

"I.... don't know."

He tries to hide his disappointment. Maybe she was starting to retreat back into her shell. Maybe he shouldn't have been so honest.

He's about to untangle them when she continues, "It wasn't at first sight but one day I found myself looking for you. Seeing you become the best part of my day, I started to count on you to be there for me. To expect it. Just like this, I've been scared to lean on anyone until I met you."

Now that's a confession.

Impulsively he stands with her still on his lap, forcing her to to latch onto him so she doesn't tumble to the floor. Not that this would ever happen because he would never let her fall.

"I could have fell!" She cries, clinging to his shoulders and wrapping her legs around his waist. Her half naked bra clad body so close to him is causing another biological crisis in his pants.

Walking to the large bed in the middle of the room he falls backwards, enjoying the view of her on top of him a little too much.

It's all probably too soon and they should probably slow down, but his body is strumming and he wants nothing more than to break her apart.

"I'm all sweaty. I should take a shower."

Instantly an image of her wet and naked under the downpour of a shower flashes in his mind and he has to twist away from her.

"Pervert." She accuses but he can hear how satisfied she is with his reaction. Damn tease.

"Do you want to join me?" She teases some more, having fun now that she knows her power over him.

He looks at her helplessly.

"Are you having fun? Remember what I told you before? I'm still a guy. You're sitting here in your bra taunting me, do you think I'm that much of a good guy? Do you think I don't want to throw you down, rip your clothes off and eat you alive? I'm so hard right now just seeing you naked would be enough to push me over the edge. So don't make propositions you can't follow through on."

She looks dizzy from his words, eyes hooded and glossy. He watches her gulp and then stagger off to the bathroom, without a word to him. It's probably for the best, everything is too charged right now.

A shower for her and many glasses of water for him later, she's back and it's almost time for dinner.

"I think they said dinner starts at 6. Should we head down?"

She glances at him, while opening her bag and pulling out skin creams and some fuzzy socks.

"Would you be opposed to ordering room service and staying here?"

It's the best offer he's heard all day, only second to her asking if he wanted to join her in the shower.

"What about your colleagues?" He asks to make certain that she's really okay with this.

"What about them?" She replies with a shrug and he grins picking up the room service menu.

They order too much food and not enough alcohol but neither of them want to forget this night. She tells him stories about her time in dental school and he's happy to get to know her better, chuckling at the funny stories and commiserating at the sad ones.

Before he knows it night has fallen.

And he realizes that they'll be sharing a bed. Unless she wants him to sleep on the couch.

She's wearing a big shirt and loose shorts and he still can't believe he gets to see her like this.

"Are you coming to bed?" She's already getting under the sheet and that answers his question, this is really happening. He starts to follow her lead, getting under the sheets but keeping a respectable distance between them.

"I'm cold." She announces suddenly and he starts to look for a thermostat in the room or an extra blanket, before realizing that she's looking at him over her shoulder, he stares back confused before she lifts an eyebrow and oh, he gets it. Carefully moving closer he feels her warmth surround him as they meet, forth to back.

"Took you long enough." She grumbles, pulling his arm over here body and settling back into him moving until she's comfortable.

She's so close and warm and her smell is all around him and he feels his restraint dissolving and when she presses back into him, her hip rubbing against his crotch he bites down on his bottom lip.

It's too much for him to resist and without warning or preamble, he's turning her to face him and swallowing her moan of surprise eagerly. He grabs her head firmly holding her in place and slips his tongue into her open mouth, her unique taste exploding on his taste buds. He's hungry for more. So he starts to tug down her shorts, heart beat thundering in his groin. She kicks the shorts away, and he groans at the sight of her panties she was trying to kill him, he was certain.

"You're the devil." He chokes out staring at red lace, he'll never be able to see the color again without getting a raging hard on.

"You haven't seen anything yet. Honey." The word drips from her tongue just like the real thing.

Forgetting all reason and logics he lunges at her, devouring her mouth and sticking his hand in her panties. She's so warm and fuck, wet drenching his fingers.

Simultaneously he thrusts his tongue into her mouth and his fingers in her wet folds, groaning as she melts like butter under his touch. There's no resistance, as he plunges two fingers inside her experimentally before picking up his place when she clutches onto him and grinds back on his fingers, begging the whole time.

"More, more, please!"

As if he could ever deny her anything, with one hand he grabs her ass and the other he thrusts into her opening over and over until her voice gets breathy and she starts to stutter, squirming wildly in his arms and he knows exactly what's coming: the beautiful end. So without warning he pulls back the sheet and slithers down her body, throwing her legs around his head and pushing his tongue in to the brim, hungrily drinking at her until she shakes and combusts in his arms. Sweet on his tongue, he swallows it all greedily.

He strokes her as she recovers from her high, climbing back up her body. So much for taking things slow, but he can't even think about regretting it when he sees the blissed out look on her face. He wants to imprint it in his mind. Nobody else will ever get to see this face but him.

"It's your turn." She says sounding loopy like she's drunk and he laughs as she reaches for the tent in his pants but misses his bulge and instead falls into him.

"You're tired. Go to sleep. That was enough for me, seeing you like that fulfilled every fantasy I've had. "

He truly means it. He's a giver. And it's not like he can't tug one out later in the bathroom with her face and moans playing on repeat in his brain.

She starts to argue, but her phone vibrating on the nightstand distracts her. Reaching over she picks it up before chuckling and flopping back into the bed.

"What?" He asks curious, jealous of whoever is making her smile like that.

Ignorant to his inner thoughts, she thrusts her phone into his face. The room is so dark it takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the bright lighting of the phone, but once he can see he reads the message on her phone and starts to laugh too.

"Dusik is missing! Nobody has seen him all day!! We started a search party."

#hometown cha cha cha #sikhye couple #caution 😈 ahead #hong du shik #yoon hye jin #living rent free

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spitpr1ncess · 3 years

Text

BRUISED BODIES CHAPTER 1 LEVI ACKERMAN X READER

(not my image)

“You’re too pretty for this, little girl” remarks your current company. You roll your eyes and have to hold in the audible sigh that almost escapes you. How many times you have heard the same drivel? If you were too pretty, they wouldn’t continue the silent abuse on your body, would they?

You’ve been a working girl since you barely had the ability to think for yourself. You were plucked from your poverty-stricken family with the promise of their debts being written off.

You aren’t special and your family don’t care about you, a lie you’d been telling yourself for twenty two long years. You are a slab of meat and a source of income, that’s all, and believing yourself to be more was a stupid mistake you’d learned not to make, assuming people actually cared about you had caused you more pain than any physical abuse you’d ever endured.

You’re snapped back to reality as a pair of hands paw clumsily at your breasts, you inhale and remind yourself that this is only a temporary situation, but until you figure out how, you must continue to appease the men that Jools sends your way.

Jools is like your older brother, if your older brother worked in a brothel and openly encouraged men to fuck his slightly younger sister. The two of you share an intimate relationship built on a strong foundation of sharing trauma, you know he means well.

Jools was taken around the same time you were, only, as he managed to flourish into a promising young man, he was favoured by boss, and thus, promoted. You and Jools have always seen eye to eye, his depressing background is in servicing men, just like yours and it’s how you built your relationship, why you share such a deep understanding of each other, such mutual respect. This doesn’t go unnoticed by the other girls, and as a mean result, ensures that you are on the less favourable end of their antics, often being the brunt of their absolute frustrations and jokes.

As head of appointments and bookings, alongside other things, he always tries to send you the easy ones, if Boss knew he favoured you, you’re sure Jools would be sacked, or worse, effective immediately. You’re eternally thankful that he chooses to throw you a bone, even if it doesn’t seem much to him, it means the world to you.

Your mindless wandering halts once again, as you make unfavourable eye contact with your unwelcome company, you notice he is grunting as he roughly palms his own erection with his bear-like hands, staring holes through you as he directs his dirty glare at your breasts. Without thinking you grasp his knees and push your elbows to meet, forcing your breasts to squash together in that specific way that the male gaze loves so much, accentuating their plumpness. You are the first to admit that although sex is something that is daily to you, you are a very sexual soul by nature. You love the affect you have on men, and how you can practically melt them down to nothingness in the palm of your soft hand. You’re certain it comes from the trauma that is deep rooted in your hunger for male validation

The man sat in front of you isn’t the smallest you’ve seen but he isn’t particularly well endowed either, weighing up your current circumstances, you decide to make the most of it. Standing up, you lick your lips and undo the tie to your virginal white skirt, allowing it to fall to the ground quietly. It crumples in a small pile and feverishly you step out of it, feigning nervousness. You take your willing participants bear-paw off his own erection and place is gently on the arm of his chair, straddling him, you centre yourself and gently lower down to allow your warmth to press against him. Instinctually, he grunts and pushes back, his actions clumsy and annoying yet you allow it, not wanting to anger him, the men you service are big businessmen and you know better than to piss one off. You have seen first-hand the damage they can and do cause. You let him believe he has control, you grind back and nuzzle into his neck, playing him like a game, inhaling, you pick up on cigarette smoke and some notable cologne brand, nothing out of the ordinary.

You kiss his neck, breathing over his ear, begging him to enter you, you are not stupid, the way you make men feel, like you are infatuated, like there is nothing else you need at that moment than them, always gets you tipped. And tips go straight to your pocket, and any tips that go straight to your pocket, go straight to your running-away-savings. As he clumsily lines up his erection, you lift yourself onto your elbow to assist him in his feeble attempt at entering you, you feel his tip pressed right up against you, simultaneously, you kiss him and sheath yourself entirely. It isn’t anything notable and is in fact somewhat disappointing, nevertheless, you continue to finish the job.

You inhale sharply to sell the fantasy. He grunts again, like some half dead animal, you cringe trying your hardest to not let on as you know that his tips will make the effort worth it. Like a wet dream he was having, you bounce yourself up and down, in and out, in and out, in and out. It isn’t long before you see his head fall back and he stiffens below you, he opens his mouth and grabs your ass, hard. You squeal as you feel his hot seed lacing your insides, you feign your own orgasm, making your legs shake as if you had to convince him like your life depended on it. He buys it; dirty talking you and asking various lewd and cringey questions that make you shudder, if it weren’t for you writhing on top of him, he might have picked up on it. You kiss him before finding your feet, passing him a napkin as he sheepishly cleans himself off, only now feeling shy and vulnerable. He stands and pulls his trousers up; buckling his belt quickly, he then reaches into his breast pocket, he pulls out a stack of fifties, he throws a couple on the floor by your feet. He is trying to regain his masculinity, uncomfortable about looking into your eyes, you used to let it upset you, only you are used to it, each man having the same reaction.

He leaves and you lock the door tight behind him, you tidy up, wiping the chair and cleaning away any fluid that may have made its way to places it doesn’t belong. You wander towards your bathroom; the wooden floor feels cold but welcome on your ever tired feet. You stare into the mirror; a few tears had escaped your eyes without your noticing, it was a pretty normal occurrence for you now.

You glance in the mirror and notice that she is foreign, the girl staring back. Her long brown hair pulled over one shoulder, bruises lacing her frail body, you gently trace a finger over her body and look down to see your body. It is like you are disconnected, her body has not been your body for a long time. You wipe your eyes and turn your shower on, you hop in as it is still running cold.

You inhale sharply. It hurts, and the excruciating pain is welcome, you allow your bare back to fall silently against the wall and slowly lower yourself. You protect your knees with your arms as you grasp them toward you and lay your head between the makeshift protection you have created. Loud sobs escape your lungs as if they'd been brewing for a century.

A long while passes and you don’t hear the door unlocking.

Jools lets himself in, he hears your measly sobs coming from the bathroom and heads toward them, he slides open the shower door, startled, you jump up and let out an ugly shriek, Jools looks at you, pathetic, slim, bruised and sobbing. His head falls to one side as you try to somewhat protect your modesty. Jools has seen everything you have, and you, him, yet it still feels embarrassing and intimate.

“Olive.”, his voice is cool, patient, and laced with a little sympathy, “What am I going to do with you?”, he steps into the shower, allowing his clothes to get sprayed with water, you turn to him and press your forehead to his.

“I am sorry Jools; my emotions are all over the place. I will be ready in ten minutes, just allow me to clean up”, your voice sounds tired and you let out a little sigh. Jools places a hand on your shoulder and gently turns you around. You have been each other’s comfort in such a long life of trauma and you know what is coming next, he picks up your shampoo and lathers some between his hands, he rubs his fingertips into your scalp, scrubbing the dirt of the day out of your hair.

His touch is welcome, if not a little alien. It is rare these days that a pair of hands aren’t grabbing, pulling, pinching or pushing you around, you let out a long sigh, letting go of the anxiety and slowing your heart rate, you close your eyes and allow yourself to be cared for. By the time Jools finishes showering you he is soaked, you both step out into your bedroom. You pull on your skirt and replace your corset, a “uniform” as far as Boss is concerned. You hate it, making you feel vulnerable and cheap, you would rather slip on a t-shirt and shorts, or a loose dress.

Jools discarded all his clothes sans boxers and made himself comfortable on your bed as you were stood contemplating. You stare at him, with his light brown, almost ashy blonde hair. He is handsome, you have always thought this, you just never placed you two together, with him acting the “older brother” for all intents and purposes.

Jools breaks the silence, “Your four o’clock has cancelled, it’s what I came here to tell you” he pats the bed next to him and smiles “come and sit, unless you’re going somewhere”.

You pause momentarily before undoing your skirt again, you let it fall to the ground before reaching for a pair of linen shorts sat on your vanity, pulling them on, you take a few steps before collapsing on the bed next to Jools in complete exhaustion. “I’m tired of fucking the same men Jools” you remark.

“The same men, with the same predictable sex routines, the same sized cocks, the same moves. I’m bored. I’m climbing up the walls, Jools. Throw me a bigger bone, I’m begging you.”, You feel Jools eyes on your face, you let your head fall and meet his gaze. He snorts and pulls himself closer to you. You slide your body next to his and he drapes and arm over your waist.

Your foreheads touching, you lay in comfortable silence for a while. You close your eyes miss him protectively watching over you.

“I’m not sure what I can do for you Ol, unless you want me to fuck you myself. We don’t have much new clientele and any we do have seem like the abusive type, so I deliberately don’t send them your way.” he laughs. You ponder his first sentence, unable to tell if he was joking. You try your luck and shift your weight so you’re straddling him.

“Wh.. what the fuck are you doing Ol?”, You decide that he didn’t mean it, judging by his response. You begin to tickle his sides and he goes bright red before kicking you off, you land on the wooden floor with a loud bang.

“OW. That fucking hurt you fuck.” You stand up and cross your arms like a grumpy child. Jools looks at you and sticks out his tongue, you both pause, waiting for the other to break. It is you who laughs first, shortly followed by Jools who snorts, like a little pig. You can’t stay mad at him, he is so sweet, and you started it, after all.

“I was thinking Jools. If you have some time this afternoon, maybe we could go for a walk?” Your schedule was usually so full you don’t have time to visit outside. It was the beginning of the spring too, so everything was just starting bloom, it was one of the things that gave you a little peace and hope.

“I can’t Ol, I can’t leave the others unattended, in case anything happens, you know the rules” his voice holds a little sadness and disappointment, you can tell he’d like nothing more.

“Maybe I can open up a space for you this weekend? Then we can go out together?” Jools doesn’t work weekends; part of his promotion demands of course, but you did.

“Weekend rates are higher and I rea..” Jools cuts you off.

“I will charge one of your regulars more in the week; I’ll make it up for you, pleaaase?” he draws out.

You look at his face and the little boisterous glint in his eyes. You ruffle his hair like a little boy and laugh.

“Sure thing.”, You reply.

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