#if there were they'd be boasting with it

[sinsofsummers]

sensational

6.9k | joel miller & f!innocent!reader part two

this comes from this request. a few liberties were taken with the details (the reader knows that sex exists, but not much else), just fyi!

summary: thanks to becoming an orphan at age 13, you've lived the rest of your life oblivious to all the world can offer. now that you're in jackson, joel miller ignites something in you that only he can give answers to. warnings: slight angst (mentions of parent loss), innocent!fem!reader, age gap (joel is 56, reader is 25), kind of pervy!joel, smut (18+, mdni!!!), fingering, grinding, reader watches old pornos with joel, slight praise kink, no use of y/n. note: i planned originally to have this be just one part, but even though it ends in a way that i like, i could maybe be convinced to write a second part teehee (part two coming soon!)

You used to love the rain. The way it cascaded down your skin in little droplets, cleansing your body from a hard day's work, and the way it made your hair look so perfectly disheveled.

You craved the rain, until it became nothing but a reminder of the night your parents died.

It had been years at this point, but you would never quite forget how young, and small, and unsuspecting you'd been when they told you to run. How cruel, that time might pass, you might change, but with one smattering of rain, you returned so swiftly to the worst night of your life.

The three of you had been living alone, making your way...somewhere, but they never told you where. Your parents' only wish was to keep you safe, that much was clear. So it shouldn't have been a surprise that upon an ambush by at least ten clickers, after both your parents had been infected, that they'd insist that you run.

"Please, darling," your mother had pleaded, a lump in her throat as she formed the words. "Don't make me beg. I need you to run. Promise?"

Your father was somewhere else, but you could hear him yelling in the distance, in a fight for his life. You were too young, even at thirteen, to understand that those were the sounds of a dying man.

"I'll be right behind you," she'd choked on the last phrase, and in hindsight, you knew she was lying. But in the moment, you'd believed her. You couldn't see the bite she was hiding on her arm, her fate already sealed. "I'll come for you, my love," she insisted, "but I need you to go. Head for the woods."

It was the last time you saw her. You'd turned tail and had run as fast as you could for the woods.

The last thing you heard was a gunshot. A single shot, echoing around you in the trees. It may have been impossible to know, but you didn't need to turn back. Your parents were dead.

If you hadn't found Jackson, who knows how long you might have lasted. Nearing your twenty-first year, you'd proven valuable to the community, and they'd welcomed you in. Jackson was the first home you'd had since you were five.

It hadn't occurred to you that you were years behind your peers in terms of...well, everything, until you met Joel.

Rugged, tan, and sporting a perpetual frown paired with an ever-present crease between his brows, Joel Miller was your patrol partner. You weren't exactly sure why, and he didn't seem particularly pleased about it, but then again—he never seemed particularly pleased about anything.

It hadn't struck you as anything to be proud of, or to boast about to the other young women in Jackson, but they certainly loved coming up to you and expressing their jealousy when they felt so inclined.

"What's he like on patrol?" they'd ask, their eyes wide and lips curled in smirks as they waited for any insight you could give them on his mysterious personality.

All you could ever say over the next four years was a quick, "He's quiet."

Maybe that was why the two of you worked well. He wasn't much of a talker, and after you'd lost your parents, you hadn't been one to waste any breath on conversation, especially when you had survived alone with your own thoughts for almost eight years.

Silence was your mutual understanding. No talking meant no questions, and no questions meant no problems.

And this worked. Until it didn't.

-- -- --

It started like anything started. Quietly, hardly a bother, until it sank into the marrow of your bones and demanded that you address it.

More literally, it started in your shoulders. You'd been on patrol with Joel, a quiet, "Let's go," his only words to you that morning. They were his only words to you every morning, and that day was no different.

Patrolling with him was easy. Like you'd said—no talking, so no problems. You rode next to each other on your respective horses, and there was nothing more than a glance or two toward each other when necessary. It was the only form of communication that the two of you shared.

His big brown eyes had always startled you, looking so inviting in the contrast of the white snow during the winter, but they never showed you more than he allowed you to see. And all you saw of Joel was his dedication to sleep, patrol, eat, and repeat.

You hadn't felt the desire to look that closely at him until some of the girls in Jackson asked you how big his hands were, or what he looked like up close.

"You know," one of them had crooned, not realizing you were unsure of their intentions, "what does he look like without that big old coat on?"

You'd shrugged. "Why should I know?"

Another one wiggled her eyebrows. "Doesn't it get...lonely out there? Nothing but you, the snow, and a big man like Joel to keep you company?"

The faces of those girls, the glint in their eyes, it was something you couldn't quite decipher, as much as you wished you could. So one day, you'd asked the man himself what it all meant.

When you said it for the first time, it was so quiet that you could hardly even hear yourself.

Joel grunted, the only indication that he'd heard you.

Your cheeks burned, but you couldn't find a reason why. This was just Joel. He seemed to know everything there was to know about life; surely he could help you understand this. "Why do the girls in town keep asking me what it's like to patrol with you?"

He didn't answer for a second, but then shrugged. "They botherin' you?"

"No." You weren't quite sure that was true, and knowing him, he could probably hear the lie in your voice. "They're just kind of...belligerent."

His eyebrow cocked. "S'a big word," he mused. "Sure you know what it means?"

Your cheeks grew hot. "Yes," you insisted sharply. "I do read, you know."

He murmured a response, but the wind carried it away from you. You rode in silence for a bit longer before he said, "Don't let those girls get in your head. I think they just wanna get a rise outta you."

"A rise?"

Joel nodded and brought his horse to a routine stop. This was where the two of you always stretched your legs. He reached up to help you down your own mount and set you on the ground gingerly. "You know," he said, as if you should know, but with no regard for the fact that you didn't. "You're still kinda new here. Seems they're still pretty dead-set on embarrassin' you."

"I'm not embarrassed," you insisted again. "I just...is there a joke I'm not getting?"

"Any reason you chose to talk so much today?" was his only answer, which made your stomach clench.

There was no reason for you to be offended, as it was your typical routine to remain quiet unless absolutely necessary, but you couldn't help the way your lips curved downward. "Sorry," you mumbled, "forget I asked."

He was quiet again as the two of you walked at least two hundred paces, stretching out your sore muscles in the snow. It used to be comforting, the silence. It wasn't maddening, it didn't ever bother you if Joel was in his thoughts. You weren't even sure at times if he had any. But all that had changed now; his brow creased more than it usually did, and you wanted nothing more than to ask him what he was thinking.

Joel was the one constant in your life now. Maybe it was a—well, probably it was a trauma response from losing your parents, but you couldn't help it. You didn't need much from anyone, just someone to stay. Joel was strong enough to take care of himself and was smart enough not to make any rash decisions. As far as you could tell, he'd stay.

So how could you be so embarrassed by asking these questions?

"I forgot how long you said you were...alone out there," his grunting voice filled the space between you once more. It was quiet, and he sounded hesitant, as if he wasn't sure how to speak.

"Since I was thirteen," you said mechanically, so familiar with others in Jackson asking the same question.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath. "And you're how old?"

"Twenty-five," you said, feeling oddly small in his presence.

He shook his head. "That's a long time to be alone," he muttered, blowing out a breath.

You huffed. "Yeah, well, I survived. And besides, I've been here for four years now, you know."

"I know."

Again, the silence. Infuriating.

Then, you couldn't help it. "What's...'spooning,' and why do those girls ask me if we've done it?"

Joel stumbled, reaching out for balance. His hand found purchase on your shoulder, and you caught him awkwardly. "You don't even know what spooning is?" He sounded incredulous, as if you'd asked a juvenile question.

The warmth from his hand was astonishing, and distracted you from your embarrassment, if only for a moment. It sank through his glove into your coat, and down toward your skin. Something about the weight of his hand on your shoulder, even for a second as he removed it quickly, was enough to send you spiraling.

Your face burned. "Never mind," you said quietly and mounted your horse again. How stupid could you get? You scolded yourself. You'd ventured too far into this conversation, and now you didn't know how to get yourself out of it. "I was just...never mind. We should get back."

He nodded, but his face still looked somewhat pinched. "Yeah. S'getting dark."

The sun was still up. No intention of sinking beneath the horizon for at least a few hours. You rode again in uncomfortable silence, this time letting it fill the space. You foolishly thought that maybe if you were quiet long enough, he'd forget that you'd made a fool of yourself, that you'd exposed yourself to the truth: that you knew hardly anything about...anything except for survival instincts.

When Joel spoke again, it surprised you. "I didn't mean to tease ya," he said. "It's just kind of a surprise that you're not...that you don't..." he looked over at you, and there was some type of pleading in his eyes, as if he were begging you not to make him say it.

"That I don't what?" you said dumbly, hoping you didn't sound as childish as you felt.

He pondered his next words carefully, and then he hummed, "If you want, I could...teach you some stuff."

"Like spooning?" You felt a warmth in your face as you watched his shoulders hunch with a soft laughter. Your own shoulder burned where he'd touched it, and something bloomed in your gut.

He chuckled. "I don't know about all that," he said, "but I'll help you get...back on track. Would hate for someone to take advantage of your...innocence." It sounded sinful, the way he said it, and the something in your gut pulsed.

"You don't have to," you shook your head, but you didn't even believe the words as they came out of your mouth. "I'll just ask someone else."

"Darlin', don't trust anyone else to give you straight answers. I'm older'n half of everyone in Jackson, anyway." He flashed you a look. "I'll help. Whatever you want to know."

You bit the insides of your cheeks, your stomach turning strangely. "Anything?"

He nodded dutifully, but his eyes had already left yours. Joel Miller, ever the professional. "Whatever you want."

-- -- --

Joel liked to consider himself someone who would never again suffer the shock of surprises. After having lived through and seen more shit than any normal person could, he thought he'd experienced it all.

That is, until her pretty lips had opened and asked him to teach her about all she'd missed. Until she asked him to teach her.

He hadn't really seen her as the picture of innocence until he'd heard how long she'd been alone, surviving with no one and nothing besides her own thoughts and the clothes on her back.

The least her parents could do was teach her how to shoot, he'd thought when he first met her. It was a curiosity that was quickly resolved, as she'd proven herself valuable to Jackson.

Tommy had wasted no time putting them on patrol together. "It'll be good for you," his brother had reasoned when he brought up concerns. "You know, to talk to someone out there. I know she's on the young side, but you don't gotta fall in love with her." He'd flashed an apologetic smile when Joel had scowled. "You're scarin' everyone, Joel. Bein' all quiet and shit...it's—"

"It's what?" he'd asked gruffly. "I don't do it on purpose. I'm a grown man."

This was all true, and he very much didn't do it on purpose. With no one around whom he deemed worthy of his conversation, Joel Miller had become the quiet, introspective version of himself that everyone decided to become scared of all of a sudden.

The way he saw things? It wasn't his fault everyone in Jackson was boring. Or childish.

But her. With her unmistakable will to survive and those eyes that could burn fierce with ire one moment, and soften with curiosity the next...it was only a matter of time before he agreed to do whatever she asked.

He should have seen it coming, especially considering her past. Every time he thought of just how...unsuspecting she was about...everything, he had to shake his head, clearing it of any thoughts that threatened to take advantage of her.

But being ignorant of spooning. He had to clear his throat every time he thought of what that might mean for himself in this particular arrangement. If she knew nothing of something so...palatable, he could hardly help himself when thinking of what else she might be unaware of.

He tried to be patient, and he tried to be respectful, but at the end of the day, he was Joel Miller. From the moment she looked at him with those wide eyes, he was lost.

-- -- --

"What I would give to give that man the ride of his life," one of the girls next to you hummed at breakfast the next morning, her eyes presumably glued to Joel, who'd just come into the cafeteria. You didn't look up at him, instead casting a confused glance toward the girl who'd spoken.

"Ride where?" You cursed your quick instinct to ask questions, as the girls erupted into a fit of giggles. Face burning, you looked down again at your plate. "Never mind," came your almost instantaneous response. You were getting used to having to apologize for your ignorance, and people rarely—especially not these girls—offered their kindness.

One of the other girls snickered. "Why don't you ask him? I'm sure there's nothing much to talk about out there anyway," she said, smiling widely. Her next words were nothing short of a drawl, the complete essence of mockery. "'Joel, what's it mean to ride?'" she pinched her face in what you assumed was an impression of you, and it only made your eyebrows furrow despite your stomach sinking in utter horror.

And then there he was. He'd called your name, and now he was standing behind your left shoulder, hand outstretched to save you.

You were sure his hand had never looked quite as appealing as it did now. The calluses on his palm were raised and visibly rough. For a moment, you stared at his fingers and wondered what they might feel like against your cheek.

Swallowing a lump in your throat, that something arose in your gut once more before you heard him murmur your name again.

"Come on," he grunted, but there was a gentleness to it that made the hair on the nape of your neck stand on end. "Time to go."

The girls at your table were silent when you took his hand gingerly and let him lead you from the cafeteria. You noted the swift wave of cold that hit your hand as soon as he dropped it, just a second later. Clasping your hands together, you hoped in a fit of desperation that you might preserve some of the weight and warmth of his touch on your skin. It failed.

"Thanks," you said later, when the two of you were outside the community's borders. Jackson felt a bit too stuffy for any real admissions of gratitude, you'd decided. It turned out to be a good conclusion when you felt the delicious churn of your stomach at the idea of being alone with him once more.

I'm sure there's nothing much to talk about out there anyway, one of the girls had said. Doesn't it get lonely out there? You were reminded of another's teasing, and this time your cheeks burned at the memory. Nothing but you, the snow, and a big man like Joel to keep you company.

He was big, you considered. When he stood next to you, his frame was almost larger than life, and his shoulders were sinfully broad when you watched him walk in front of you on previous patrols. The sheer size of him was enough to send you into a heady descent.

As usual, Joel didn't answer for what felt like ages, and you'd begun to wonder if he could see where your train of thought had led you. Then:

"You could have told me they were bein' that outrageous," he grunted, keeping his eyes forward. "I woulda helped you out sooner. S'no fun feelin' left outta everything."

It was...odd to hear such words come from a man like Joel. Although, you reminded yourself, you'd hardly spoken to him in the four years that you'd been in Jackson; who was to say he wasn't normally like this? A quiet, brooding older man, yes; but maybe he was naturally like this. One to offer his help.

"If you wanted to help, you would have made an effort four years ago." You let your words hang in the air. You didn't mean for them to come off sharp; it was simply the truth. "I don't need your help," you added, tightening your hands on the reins of your horse and swallowing roughly. "It was fine. I am fine."

He flashed you a look as if to say, is that so? You couldn't help but notice the way the corners of his eyes creased, the only sign of amusement. It was all you could do to keep your eyes on him, although you weren't sure how you were going to explain the way your mouth went dry at the sight of his big brown eyes.

"Besides," you insisted quietly, "you're not my dad."

Joel cleared his throat. Looked down, shoulders tense. Inhaled. "No," he said decidedly. "No, I'm not."

Emboldened by this clarification, you inquired, "So what did those girls mean earlier? Riding, I mean?"

If you could have guaranteed the image of Joel's eyes going wide in surprise to remain in your head for the rest of your days, you would have done it instantly. His forehead was creased as his eyebrows lifted, and despite his position facing away from you, you could see it all.

The way he seemed to wrestle with himself before answering, the way his hands seemed to clench in his gloves. "So, uh..." he started, and then paused again. Mustering up whatever courage he needed, Joel finished, "Well, ya see, when a man and woman love each other very much—"

"Joel." Oh. You couldn't help it when a breathless chuckle left your lips.

He was silent, and when he finally answered, it wasn't a question. "What."

"I'm not fucking stupid. I know how reproduction works."

Joel's chest rose and fell in a deep sigh, and you couldn't ignore the look of complete relief that washed over his rough features. "Thank fuckin' Christ. Didn't know if I had it in me for another sex talk. I'm too old to be doin' this."

"Believe it or not, my parents did leave me with the basic information." Swallowing roughly, you continued. "And I know...I know that men usually...take. It's an assertion of power, from what I've...seen."

He shook his head. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised that you've run into your fair share of dirtbags, even in the middle of the world goin' to shit." He ran a gloved hand through his hair, and you secretly enjoyed the way it stood up. "Anyone ever, you know...take...from you?"

Hearing your own words regurgitated back to you left you feeling fluttery. Shaking your head, you got down from your horse; you'd reached your typical resting spot. "No," you said firmly. "They never wanted me."

Joel nodded. "S'good," he said, and it bothered you to no end that you couldn't understand the emotion in his voice. "So..."

By now he was standing next to you, closer than you were used to, judging by the way his coat sleeve bumped yours as the two of you walked, stretching your legs. "So," you said, thinking up a way to make this conversation less awkward. "I just hate feeling like a kid again. I'm twenty-five, for fuck's sake. There's more than just survival when it comes to living. I just want to know what I'm missing out on," you confessed with a hand on your stomach.

When Joel brushed by your side again your stomach flipped. And what the fuck is that about, and why do I keep feeling it? You asked inwardly, but you were too nervous to ask. Bombarding Joel with questions, especially after you'd just started talking to him on patrol after four years, seeming to be the wrong path to take.

He shrugged, eyebrows still furrowed in thought. "There's nothing to miss if you don't know what you're missin'."

"Yes," you admitted, "but that doesn't stop any of those girls from making me feel like I'm..."

"Innocent?" he murmured, and you thought you weren't meant to hear it until he turned to look at you.

Those big brown eyes, they just won't quit, a voice nudged you in your head.

"I don't want to be innocent," you groaned, throwing your head back. "God, not in the sense that they see me in. Sounds like a damn curse."

The sound of his rumbling laughter, however quiet, sent a shock down your spine and you nearly tripped in the snow. "There's pros and cons, I s'pose," he offered. "It's like I said: I'll help you get back on track. If that's what you really want."

"It is." You stopped walking, took a look around at the landscape, otherwise empty with the scattering of trees. You swallowed, pressed one. "So...riding. It's a part of reproducing, then?"

He chuckled again, but this time it didn't come off as demeaning. It was like he was teasing you, but good-naturedly. "Let's not jump too far ahead of ourselves, yeah? Start with somethin' smaller. Then we'll work our way up."

Joel's eyes were piercing when he held yours in his gaze. If someone watched this conversation, you were sure they'd be able to see the blush blooming on your cheeks.

"Learnin' takes time, ya know," he mused, his growling voice nearly a hum that could have warmed you from the inside out.

You'd made it to the edge of the woods now. This was normally where you turned back, heading for home. But neither of you moved. The bubble of something pulsed again, and you swallowed roughly before whispering hoarsely, "So where should we start?"

-- -- --

If Joel were a better man, he might have warned her what the curse of innocence in a young woman could be. He might have shook his head, stepped back, and told her to ask someone else. He might have taken the reins and turned the two of them back toward Jackson.

If he were better, he wouldn't have stepped closer to her. If he were a better man, he wouldn't have looked into her sparkling eyes and let the question slip. Fuck it all.

"You ever been kissed, darlin'?"

-- -- --

You swallowed. Don't make a fool of yourself, you begged yourself before answering with a quiet shake of your head. "Not many contenders out there. Not any good ones, anyway."

He'd leaned closer to you with his question, and now you could practically see each line of age in his face. Joel's expression was unclear; he could have been pleased with this information or...or maybe there was pity in his eyes. "No," he said with an understanding nod. "No, I suppose there wouldn't have been."

He lifted a gloved hand to his mouth and you watched as he traced it along his lips. The gray strands in his hair glinted off the sunlight, blinking pleasantly in your eyes. That something pulsed once more in your stomach, and there was a sort of realization that came with it.

Joel, you thought. Joel is making me feel like this.

"Will you kiss me?" The words were out of your mouth before you could reel them in.

But instead of laughing, or scoffing, or giving any sign of mockery, Joel Miller inhaled quietly. "You know how much older I am than you?" he asked.

You nodded. "We're both adults, Joel. Besides," you felt a ghost of a smirk come to grace your lips, a feigned confidence coming to save you in this moment of truth. "I thought you told me to ask you these questions."

He sighed. "You're right."

"So? Will you?" you asked, with a small, "please?" coming out afterward.

He moved slowly, something you were equally thankful for as you were frustrated with, but his forehead met yours soon enough. His eyelashes brushed against your cheek, and he let out a shaky breath, letting it fan deliciously across your face. The knowledge that he was just as nervous as you were was not only a comfort; it was perhaps the most attractive thing you'd ever known.

And when you lifted your chin, just a hairsbreadth from his lips, your eyes fluttered closed, waiting for him to meet you in the middle. It only took a moment before he was closing his mouth over yours, and Joel Miller was kissing you.

He was gentle, of course, but there was something restrained about his kiss, the way he slowly slotted his lips over yours as if you might crack under any more pressure. It only made you want more, more, more...

You pressed your hands to his chest and curled them into fists, tugging his jacket to lessen the distance between your bodies even more. You didn't know how you were doing this, how you'd managed to find confidence in what could have easily been a humiliating experience. Your first kiss at twenty-five? With anyone else, it might have been a nightmare.

With Joel, it was turning out to be the most delightful dream.

"So soft, baby," he pulled back to whisper against your mouth. "These lips are so soft for me."

You hummed your response and pulled him back to you, letting him see that you wanted more. That incessant pressure was building, and it wasn't until he had his arms sliding around your waist that you forced yourself to pull back, head spinning. "Joel."

He blinked. "What? Too fast?" He shook his head. "I'm sorry, darlin', you're just so—"

"No, that's not it." You managed a weak smile, but the look in his eye, the question and the undeniable desire—is that what it looks like?—quivering in his brown irises, nearly made you collapse. He waited for you to continue, his hands never leaving you, a courtesy you were grateful for. "I feel...hot." Your cheeks warmed. "Um, there's this...pressure."

His lips closed in a tight smirk, and he squeezed your hips. "Where, baby?" he murmured, and you could have sworn you saw stars outlining his head at the sound of the pet name. "Show me," he cooed.

"Um." You paused, unsure of just how. But with his hands on your waist, his heavy, warm touch melting you on the spot, you took one of his gloved hands in yours and guided him to your stomach. "Here. Kind of."

"Yeah?" he said, and you forgot about the cold. About your horses waiting to be mounted, about your other responsibilities in Jackson. All you could see were his dark eyes that had somehow grown darker as you pushed his hand down, down, down...

"Fuck, babygirl," he cursed, and let his hand rest on the crux of your thighs, just barely pressing on the source of the tingling sensation. If anything, it made it worse, and you let a breathy whine fall from your lips. "You're gonna be the death of me, huh?" he groaned.

You couldn't form words. Just one kiss (a very good kiss, mind you) and a heavy hand on your core was all it took, apparently. You could hardly look anywhere but his face, your mouth dropping open as your hips moved of their own accord, grinding into his hand before you realized you were doing it. "Joel—" you whimpered, and he pulled his hand away.

There wasn't enough time for you to feel jilted, as he tugged you back to your horse and practically launched you onto it himself. "We're goin' back," he said firmly, "now."

Swallowing, your throat dry and rough, you pressed a hand to your cheek, feeling the heat swimming under your skin. "Did I do something wrong?"

You could hardly see him shake his head as he mounted his own horse, looking back at you to make sure you were following him. "'Course not," he called over his shoulder. When you caught up with him, the two of you shoulder-to-shoulder, he continued. "Look, darlin', f'I'm gonna be givin' you your first kiss and makin' you feel that good..." he sighed, his dark eyes finding yours. "I'm not doin' it in a fuckin' snowbank."

-- -- --

The entire ride back to Jackson was painfully long, silent but for Joel's mumbled directions, despite the fact that the two of you had taken this same route countless times in the four years that you patrolled together.

Your eyes were trained forward, and you knew his were as well, but it took everything in you not to glance at him even for a second. If you did, you were afraid that the pressure building in the crux of your thighs would never go away.

It would be unfair to say that you were completely unaware of what might happen when you got back to Jackson, but you still didn't know much, which left a nervous bubble rising in your gut. It wasn't like there were any books left in Jackson that you could read about it, or any movies that Maria would allow to remain in the community's borders.

Again, you got a wave of feeling like this should have concerned you, or at least made you a little anxious. But with Joel pulling ahead, his strong back the only thing you could look at, you felt the knot of tension release in your stomach. This was Joel. After four years—even four mostly silent years—of working together, you felt like you...knew him, somehow. That he couldn't possibly lead you astray.

Sure enough, when you were both within the borders, horses returned safely to their stables, the tension returned. Or had it ever really dissipated?

Joel hovered close to you as you left the stables. "Let's go, darlin'," he breathed, a gloved hand on your lower back as he guided you.

"Where?" you said, and you hoped it didn't sound as desperate as it did to you, the pressure getting worse. "I need—"

"I know, baby, I know," he cooed gently, his head on a swivel as if looking for anyone who might stop you. "We're goin' to mine. I've got the perfect lesson planned for ya, alright?"

It was all you could do to nod and let him push you forward through the snowy streets. If only those girls could see you now.

Once inside, you took a breath. There was no one around, and once the door closed behind you, the silence felt all the more heavy. "Ellie?" you asked, if only in courtesy.

He shook his head, and you bit your lip when you saw him smirk. "Just us, doll."

Joel shed his outer layers, and when he stood in front of you, you realized that this was the first time you'd seen him without his coat. Without his gloves, aside from that morning.

Your eyes snagged on his fingers, and you swallowed roughly when you saw the way they twitched, as if in anticipation for something. Or maybe he was holding himself back, you considered. His jaw did seem to have an impatient clench to it. Hands rough like you knew they would be, it didn't take long for your mind to wander into thinking of what it might be like to feel those hands on your skin.

With any luck, he'd give you the sweet release you craved, however it would unfold.

"See anything you like?" he teased, and your cheeks warmed.

"Sorry," you fumbled for a response, your eyes dropping. You'd meant to clear your head, but then your eyes were caught on his thighs. Specifically how hard the seams on his jeans were fighting to remain unripped. "Um, a lesson, you said?"

He nodded, reaching out a hand to take your own coat off, leaving you in the sweater and pants you'd had on all day. You were sure your hair was knotted and would be for days, but he only smoothed a hand down your face, letting you lean into his touch. His fingers were still cold, but your face was hot and it offered a dizzying sense of relief.

"I could never teach you all this," he murmured, his thumb rubbing back and forth in an absentminded swipe across your cheek. "Not without getting...distracted," he finished, pressing his other hand to your waist. Underneath the thick layer of your coat, his hand felt like a hot iron scorching your skin, despite there still being a few layers of clothes between your bodies.

"Distraction is okay," you breathed, lifting a hand to cup his on your waist. "Right?"

He shook his head, a chuckle lifting from deep in his chest. "Not tonight," he whispered. "Tonight, I want to stick to the plan."

"Which is?"

Wordlessly, he removed the hand on your waist and entwined it with your own, tugging you toward the living room where an old television had been placed on a rickety-looking shelf. "Sit," he directed, and you did so without hesitation. He paused, biting back a smile at your eager cooperation, and adjusted himself.

It occurred to you that as much as you were affected by him, he was experiencing a similar effect from you. His pants, already tighter than sin, seemed to have become even tighter, as a bulge began to grow while he stood just a few feet from your face.

"Joel—"

"No, no," he waved a dismissive hand and went to the television to grab something. He came back with something you recognized: a VHS tape. "Don't worry 'bout me, sweets. Tonight's just for you."

"We're gonna watch a movie?" you asked, trying to ignore the way your heart sank a little. You had been hoping that the two of you would kiss some more, and maybe even...you didn't even know the name for it.

"Not just any movie," he grinned, putting it in to watch. The video started. "A special one."

When the scene opened on a man and a woman in the throes of passion, you gasped. "No way," you whispered. "I thought Maria—"

He shrugged, sinking down on the couch beside you, his knee bumping yours. "She must've missed this one," was all he said.

The woman looked to be enjoying herself, as her scene partner kissed her neck, dragging his tongue from the dip in her clavicle to the curve of skin where her neck met her ear. A cartoon-ish moan left her lips, but you didn't pay it any mind. The sight of it made your thighs clench together subconsciously, the lick of pressure rising again in your center.

"Joel—"

"Shh," he said gently. "C'mere, darlin'." With no more than a heavy hand on your waist, he tugged you closer to him, situating you over his lap. "Comfortable?"

You almost said no; you knew that this wouldn't be an acceptable seating arrangement in the cafeteria (or anywhere public, for that matter), but when his hands landed on your thighs, you nodded swiftly. His fingers curled around your skin, and you could feel every pulse of his heartbeat through his fingertips, poised as if he might spread your legs from where they were squeezed together between his own thighs.

Something hard and solid nudged at your core, and you couldn't help it when you leaned back into his chest, head tilting back to rest on his shoulder. A breathy moan tumbled from your lips, and your stomach fluttered when you felt his chest rumble with a chuckle.

"That quick, baby?" he whispered, his breath fanning over your neck. "You really are a sweet young thing, aren't ya," he teased, pressing his nose to the joint between your jaw and your neck, "fallin' apart for me already?" He rocked his hips forward, his bulge pressing harder against you, and it nearly sent you into a spiral.

You swallowed, your throat dry. The sounds of the movie seemed far away as you opened your eyes and looked at his beard, peppered with gray and scratching at your chin when he leaned over you. "Joel," you whispered, bringing your hands to cover his own on your thighs, "I-I want to know everything." You'd never meant anything more fervently, more desperately, than this.

If you'd known how addicting this could feel, being so close to him, feeling his hands on you, perhaps you would have been embarrassed at the way your hips began rubbing yourself on his lap, hoping for—you didn't even know what could be after this. You just knew that the way you felt was the most intense thing you'd felt in your entire life, and you wanted to keep feeling this way, as long as you could.

Joel tutted, squeezing his hands on your thighs. "Oh, look at you," he groaned, a deep, carnal noise that made your chest constrict, "you're a natural, doll." His lips brushed your shoulder, and he darted his tongue out to lick a small strip up your neck.

Your heart swelled with the praise, and it was all you could do not to squeeze your eyes shut. "Please," you begged quietly, as if someone might hear you.

"I know, baby, I know," he crooned, dark eyes locked onto your own as his hand crept closer—to your waistband—closer—unzipping your pants—closer...there.

Your hips lifted from his lap with the heady sensation of his fingers pressed to a bundle of nerves between your legs. "Joel—!" you squeaked.

You felt him smile against your cheek. "So wet," he murmured, "so slick for my fingers, baby." He began rubbing that spot in tight circles, a slow, torturous pace. "Let me know when you're gonna come, yeah?"

"When I..." you trailed off. You'd never...how would you know? "I don't..."

Joel hummed in your ear, rocking his hips again and releasing a guttural groan. "S'okay, pretty girl," he reassured you, "I'll be gentle. Lemme know when it feels like it's too much. "I've gotcha."

You were too far gone to doubt him. This was Joel. He wouldn't let you fall, as much as you felt like you were going to slide to the floor at the feeling of his hand coming up from your leg to caress your breast, rolling a nipple between his fingertips. A strangled mix between a cry and a moan left your lips, and with one more kiss to your brow paired with a quick swipe of his finger over your ever-sensitive bud—

Something gave way and you jerked your head back, digging into his shoulder. Your legs spasmed and you squeezed your hand over Joel's, holding his hand in place underneath your panties.

"Fuck, doll, just like that," he encouraged you. "Look at you, eyes rollin' back for me. Shakin' like a good girl." His hips tensed beneath you and you felt his chest shudder as he released a punishing moan. "Got me feelin' like a damn teenager, comin' in my jeans."

His fingers stilled, but his hand didn't move. Your legs slowly stopped shaking, and the solid mass beneath you was softening. You let out a sigh, your eyelids fluttering closed. Your cheeks were flushed, you could tell; but this time, it wasn't embarrassment that brought the warmth to your face.

"You okay?" he murmured, carefully removing his hands from their places on you. "Feel alright, darlin'?"

Your head turned, nestling into the crook of his neck. Nodding quietly, you shifted in his lap. "I...I didn't know it could be like that," you shivered.

Joel paused the video, the living room falling quiet around you. Swinging a hand under your legs and tugging you to a more comfortable position over his lap, he raised his fingers to his lips, glistening with the remnants of your desire. Your jaw slackened when you watched him open his mouth, lapping at the tips of his fingers.

"Trust me, doll," he said with a glint in his eye. You whimpered in anticipation as he reached to brush a strand of hair from your face. "I've got so much more to teach you."

tysm for reading! you made it to the end! part two is in the works posted!

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #pervy!joel #innocent!f!reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller #joel miller tlou #tlou smut #tlou fic #tlou joel fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #the last of us #the last of us fanfic #the last of us smut #jackson!joel miller #joel miller x innocent!f!reader #fem!reader #joel x fem!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n

[rubysunnday]

take my hand

summary: as much as y/n appreciates anthony's matchmaking efforts, it's hard to accept them when he's the only man she wants. luckily for her, a fall in the lake allows her to voice her feelings in more ways than one

a/n: 4.4k of pure angst/fluff and, yes, smut

Promenading was probably one of the most pointless endeavours the ton insisted on participating in. Miss Y/N Moore loved going on walks around the city. But when she was surrounded by the ton and their watching eyes and gossiping mouths, it was hard to enjoy anything.

"Stop glowering," her mother hissed, elbowing her in the side. "Smile."

Y/N sighed. But she raised her chin and smiled politely as they walked past the Featherington family.

There was only one reason why her mother had forced her out of the house: the Earl of Newburgh.

He'd been courting Y/N since the second week of the season. They'd danced together at almost every ball, gone to museum visits together and he'd had dinner at her house. Twice.

They were practically engaged in the eyes of the ton.

Yet Y/N wasn't happy. She liked the earl, there was nothing wrong with him. He was a lovely man. But there was no spark between them. Their relationship just felt like a good friendship.

She had never confessed it to her mother, however. If she did, Y/N was certain her mother would swoon.

"I do not see the earl anywhere," her mother muttered, rising up on to her tiptoes.

Y/N tugged on her arm and forced her back down. "He might not be here yet, mama."

"He did invite you to promenade with him, yes?"

"Yes -"

"Then why is he not here?"

Y/N kept quiet. Sometimes, when her mother got annoyed, she talked to herself, grumbling about anything and everything. It was easier to let her talk aloud and not acknowledge anything - otherwise they'd end up in a fight and Y/N knew how they always ended.

As her mother kept rattling on, Y/N gazed across the crowd gathered down by the lake. There were awnings pitched up along the edge of the clearing, providing shade to the families sitting under them. It was a beautiful day and the lake had numerous boats upon it, gently gliding over the water.

Y/N's roving gaze moved past and then came back to an awning nearest the lake. It, and the carriage, were both light blue. The carriage door boasted the Bridgerton family crest and Y/N's heart stuttered.

It was as if he knew she was looking.

Viscount Anthony Bridgerton looked up. He was sat on a blanket, his youngest sister Hyacinth sat by him, tucked into his side. They were making a daisy chain together. It snaked down Anthony's legs, growing longer as Hyacinth added to it.

It was as if the world stopped for a moment, blurring everything out except Anthony.

"Y/N, darling!"

Y/N jumped slightly. She turned and saw the Earl of Newburgh walking towards her, her mother practically hanging off his arm.

"I found him!"

Y/N tried not to cringe. She kept her composure and smiled at the earl, curtseying as he approached. "My Lord."

"Would you care to promenade with me, Miss Moore?" He asked, smiling at her as he offered her his arm.

"I would love to," she replied, threading her arm through his.

Her mother giggled. Giggled. Y/N tried not to sigh but her composure must've slipped as the Earl patted her hand sympathetically.

They walked down the grass, past the families and toward the water. Y/N could feel guilt eating at her every time she glanced at the earl. She didn't want to inconvience him or hurt his feelings. But she also didn't want to trap him in a marriage that was one sided.

"Miss Moore -"

"My lord -"

They both stopped abruptly, hearing the other speak. The earl laughed, shaking his head.

"Please, go first, Miss Moore."

Y/N sighed. "My lord, I apologise but I... I would rather we remain friends than take this any further. I value you and our friendship," she added quickly, "but I just do not feel any..."

"Spark?"

Y/N smiled and nodded. "I know I am running out of time," she said quietly. "And any other woman would accept your suit and gladly become a countess. But I yearn for a love match, as foolish as that might seem. I want what so many of the ton have and I am not quite ready to give up on that idea yet."

"I do not think you should either," the earl replied. He took her hand in his. "We all deserve a chance at true love, Miss Moore. I can only hope you find it."

"As do I, my lord." She curtseyed. "I hope to see you around."

It was as if her mother knew what had just happened. As the earl walked away, Y/N turned, glancing over at her. She could see the fury on her face even from this far away. Y/N swallowed as she began to walk back to her mother, bracing herself for the fallout.

"Miss Moore!"

She stilled. The voice as achingly familiar. She could smell him and it filled her with a weird warmth.

Y/N turned. Anthony Bridgerton was standing there, hands clasped behind his back, wearing a dark blue jacket.

"Lord Bridgerton," Y/N said, curtseying.

Anthony smiled. "I was Anthony last week," he said, moving closer.

"My mother is watching," Y/N replied softly. She risked a glance over her shoulder. "I just ended things with the Earl of Newburgh."

"Why?"

Y/N turned back to face him. She shrugged. "There was no spark."

Anthony nodded once. He glanced over her shoulder. "Well, would you like to come out onto the lake with me?" He asked, extending his hand out. "To escape your mother for a moment?"

Y/N looked at his bare hand. Slowly, she placed her own bare hand in his, letting him guide her hand to the crook of his elbow. She could feel the warmth of his body even through the dark blue wool of his jacket.

They began to walk towards the dock set up on the edge of the lake. The sun emerged from behind the clouds, sparkling off the water for a moment before disappearing again.

Anthony held her hand as she stepped into the boat. He kept her steady as it rocked, not letting go until she did. Y/N sat down on the chair built into the boat. Anthony sat down opposite her, grabbing the oars.

One of the workers untied them from the dock and gave them a gentle push out onto the lake. Anthony began to row, the oars splashing in and out of the water. Y/N sighed, relaxing back against the cushions, grateful to have escaped her mother's wrath for a moment.

Anthony was quiet for a while. He rowed them away from the dock, weaving through the other boats on the lake.

"What made you deny the earl?" Anthony asked, breaking the silence that had fallen over them.

Y/N exhaled softly, letting her hand trail through the water. "There was no spark," she replied. "I felt nothing but friendship towards him."

"What is it you look for?"

"A love match," Y/N replied, taking her hand out the water and shaking the droplets off. "Despite how foolish it may seem, I yearn for a love match. One that matches the stories I read when I was younger. Whilst I know it will probably never happen, younger me isn't quite ready to give up on the idea yet."

"I do not think it foolish," Anthony said softly. He slowed the oars, holding them loosely in his hands. "Nor do I think you should give up on it."

Y/N found his gaze. The intensity of it almost took her breath away.

"I must admit, however, that I do not think the earl would have made a good match."

His words snatched her out of her dream. Y/N stared at him, affronted.

"Whatever does that mean?" She asked.

"Well, he lives in Scotland -"

"Do you have some personal vendetta against Scotland?"

"Other than the bagpies and the tartan and the constant rain?"

"Anthony, have you ever been to Scotland in your life?"

"Colin has."

Y/N sighed. "Your brother does not count." She paused. "Is Scotland the only reason?"

"Oh, I have a whole list."

"Oh for goodness sake."

Y/N knew Anthony had a soft spot for her. They'd been friends since she'd come out two years previously. He'd been a desired match despite his whining about not wanting a wife. Her mother had forced them to dance together numerous times and soon a friendship had formed.

Even if that friendship sometimes comprised of a very judgy viscount who seemed to make who Y/N was courting his business.

"Anthony, when will you realise that you cannot control who I court?" Y/N asked softly.

Anthony began rowing them back to the dock. "I do not claim to try to."

"But you do."

"If you want me to stop, you need only ask."

"Anthony, that's not what..." Y/N sighed heavily. "I do not get a lot of choice in this world, please stop trying to control the one thing I do get to choose."

"I was not aware I was," Anthony replied, brow furrowing.

Y/N didn't want to say it. But she knew she had to.

"Well, you are," she replied gently. "I appreciate the concern but... I do not have long left to find my true love. And you, Viscount Bridgerton, are not helping things."

She knew it was a low blow. All Anthony wanted to do was protect her. But he kept scaring off countless suitors - sometimes before Y/N could even speak to them. It was a miracle the earl had managed to bypass Anthony at all.

The boat hit the dock. Y/N looked at Anthony and could see the muscles in his jaw clenching. He cleared his throat and stood up, pulling his jacket down.

Anthony climbed out the boat and crouched down, tying the rope back to the dock. He said nothing. Y/N hated the silence. She'd upset him, she knew that.

But she could not allow him to keep matchmaking for her when the only one she wanted was him. It hurt to see him try to marry her off to another man. All she wanted to do was be with him.

She'd denied it for months. The feelings that had begun to blossom inside her. They had become uncontrollable now, taking over her entire being whenever she saw him.

She was in love with Anthony Bridgerton.

The man who was against love, against marriage, against happy ever afters. He had made his intentions clear and Y/N knew he was not going to back down on them for her.

Her heart belonged to him and he didn't even know it.

Anthony held out his hand to her. "Miss Moore."

"Lord Bridgerton." She placed her hand in his.

Y/N stepped out of the boat and onto the dock. As she did so, she glanced down at their hands, fingers still holding on to one another.

Neither one of them wanted to let go. Even as the seconds ticked by. Anthony ran his thumb along her knuckles, hovering over the ring she wore on her middle finger.

Then, as if struck by lighting, they pulled apart. Y/N and Anthony both took a step back together, not realising another couple were directly behind them.

There was a yelp of surprise. It was a tangle of limbs and ropes and suddenly, Y/N found herself hitting the water. For a moment, she was blinded, but then she found her way upright and surfaced.

She turned her head, catching the splash as Anthony awkwardly surfaced from the depths of the lake, arms wheeling. The other man they'd knocked into the water was glowering at them but Y/N didn't care.

In fact, she was finding the entire situation highly amusing.

A crowd had gathered at the edge of the dock, her mother among them. Anthony was angrily shedding his jacket and cravat, slinging them into the water.

Y/N made the mistake of looking over.

His white shirt was near see through thanks to the water. It clung to his torso, highlighting the muscles and giving her a near clear view of everything.

Her cheeks began to burn and Y/N turned away quickly.

"Anthony, are you okay?"

Y/N looked up at the dock. Daphne Bridgerton, Anthony's sister, was stood at the edge, looking down at them, his brother Benedict next to them.

Benedict looked as amused as Y/N did at the whole situation.

"No," he grunted. "This idiot decided to tie his boat where there was no space!"

"You walked into me, my lord!"

Y/N rolled her eyes as the two man began to bicker. She half swam, half waded away back to the dock. The crowd moved back as she put her hands on the edge and pushed herself up onto it, gratefully accepting Benedict's help as he pulled her back onto dry land.

She knew she looked a mess. Her dress was covered in grime from the lake and there was a stray twig stuck in her hair. Yet she didn't seem to care.

Y/N shook her head, pulling the twig out. She looked up as Benedict straightened, giving her a smile. He held out his hand and pulled her to her feet

Y/N watched as Benedict crouched back down and offered a hand to his brother. Anthony slapped it aside, glowering at Benedict as he laughed at his brother's misfortune.

Anthony clambered back up onto the dock and snatched a towel from one of the workers hovering hesitantly nearby. He marched off, giving Y/N a tilt of the head as he passed by.

Y/N watched him leave. A shiver danced through her body and she wrapped her arms around herself. A warm jacket landed around her shoulders.

"So you have a reason to come by," Benedict whispered in her ear as he stepped back.

Y/N smiled up at him, pulling the jacket tight around her.

She knocked on the front door of Bridgerton house, Benedict's freshly laundered jacket in her hand. It wasn't long before the butler opened the door and ushered her inside, taking her calling card.

Y/N waited in the foyer for a moment, admiring the paintings and the walls. Then, the butler appeared again and guided her up the stairs to the drawing room.

"Y/N!"

She'd barely taken one step inside the room before Hyacinth came barreling at her, wrapping her arms around her waist.

"Hyacinth," Violet admonished, hurrying over. "Please do not ambush Miss Moore."

Hyacinth beamed up at Y/N before skipping away, back to her marbles.

"Miss Moore - Y/N," Violet corrected, seeing Y/N open her mouth to do so, "what do we owe the pleasure?"

Y/N held up the jacket. "I believe this is your son's." She paused. "The artistic one."

Violet chuckled, taking the jacket from Y/N. "Thank you," she replied. "I do apologise for what -"

"Oh, it was not anyone's fault," Y/N said, shrugging. "A funny accident was all it was."

Violet sighed. "I wish Anthony saw it that way. He is still rather angry at being pushed into the lake."

Y/N knew that, whilst he probably was angry at that, it wasn't the only thing. Yet, she did not say so aloud.

"I apologise for the lack of people here," Violet continued. "All of them are out. Bar Anthony, he's in his office."

"Not to worry, I only came to drop the jacket off," Y/N replied. She paused, hesitating to ask her next question.

"What is it, Y/N?" Violet asked, her mother's instinct isntantly reading the heistation on Y/N's face.

"I may have said some things to your son that upset him," she admitted softly. "I should not have done so but..." She sighed. "I cannot explain it myself, to be honest."

Violet nodded, eyes full of understanding. "You do not need to. Your relationship with Anthony is a special one. I do hope that this does not ruin it." Violet smiled. "I always think it best to be honest with someone, Y/N. Even if it's scary. It almost always helps things."

Y/N nodded. "Thank you."

As she turned to go, Violet called her name, halting her.

"His office is behind the stairs," Violet said.

Y/N smiled at the older woman. She turned and made her way down the stairs. As she got to the bottom, she turned to the right instead of heading for the front door.

It was easy to spot Anthony's office. The door was slightly ajar and she could see his jacket, abandoned on a chair by the fireplace.

Y/N knocked gently on the door.

"Just a moment, Hy," Anthony called.

Y/N stepped in, peering round the door, holding on to the edge. "Should I be flattered that you assumed I was Hyacinth?"

Anthony looked up sharply, his quill scratching along the parchment in one, thick, ink heavy line. "Miss Moore."

"I believe it was Y/N the other day," she replied, throwing his own words back at him, hoping to lighten the tension.

It didn't work.

"Why are you here?" Anthony asked, gripping his quill tightly.

"I came to return Benedict's jacket," she replied.

His reaction was obvious, despite how hard he tried to hide it. His shoulders slumped and his demeanour changed.

"Ah," Anthony replied, turning back to his papers. "Did you get lost?"

"I came to see you as well," Y/N replied. She was still hiding behind the door. "But only if you'll hear me out."

"I might."

"And if you stop being so rude."

At that, Anthony looked up again. He stood up, pushing back his chair. "What do you want, Y/N?" He asked, walking over to a cabinet and opening the doors.

"To apologise for what I said," Y/N replied, edging further into the room. "I was stressed amongst many other things and I took it out on you. Of course I value your opinion and I appreciate your assistance."

"You did not seem to the other day."

"Well, I was having conflicting feelings."

Anthony scoffed. Y/N watched him pour out a glass of whiskey and drink it in one.

Y/N sighed softly. She walked further into the room, pushing the door shut behind her. "The truth is, Anthony, that... as much as I appreciate your matchmaking skills and your assistance with this whole thing I..." Y/N trailed off.

She could still change her mind. She could still lie to him, claim innocence.

But she didn't want to.

Now was her chance to tell him. To let it all out. It would hurt. The denial would sting. But she would get over it. And then maybe, she could find another match.

"I cannot have the man I love trying to marry me off to other men when the only one I want is him."

Anthony's glass clinked against the bottle he was holding. He went very still, frozen mid-pour. Y/N let the confession settle, the silence grow. She moved closer to him, the heels of her shoes against the wooden floor the loudest sound she'd ever heard.

"I can’t get you out of my head," she admitted softly. "You haunt my dreams at night and in the day. I find myself searching for you where ever I go, yearning just to hear your voice, to feel your hand in mine… your lips against my skin.

"You torment my very being. Whenever I see you, whenever I hear you there’s a spark inside me that demands to be let out. A spark that doesn’t exist with anyone but you, Anthony."

Anthony set the bottle down and turned to face her. Y/N didn't know how she expected him to react but the tears brimming in his eyes was not high on the list.

"I know that this might not be what you wish to happen," she added quickly, stepping even closer, "and if that is the case, I will walk away right now and forget this ever happened." She paused, breathing deeply. "But I think there is something, deep down inside, that yearns for this too."

That god awful silence fell again. The clock chimed from the mantle place, indicating that it was inching close to six o'clock. Anthony stared at her. Y/N stared at him. She let her fingers grip her skirt tightly.

"I will admit," Anthony said softly, his voice hoarse, "that I have felt something too. For a long time I have denied it." He swallowed. "I loved my father deeply and his loss aches even today. I fear to love anyone else as much or to allow anyone to love me as much because I do not wish to inflict that ache on anyone else.

"But what I have discovered since meeting you, Y/N Moore, is that the ache means that the love was so great, it cannot be put into words. We know what happens in the end, yet we love anyway. It has taken me a long time to accept that. To accept that falling in love will only mean more pain, more heart ache. But for you, I am willing to accept that. For you, I am willing to love again."

Y/N couldn't breathe. At some point during Anthony's confession, her breath had been stolen away by his words.

Here they were, baring their open and broken souls to one another. It shouldn't have felt this good. It shouldn't have brought her the relief it was.

Anthony stepped closer. Y/N followed his gaze, never breaking away. He lowered his lips to hers. It was slow and delicate yet the desire was there, the need for more was there. He pressed hard, pushing her lips apart slightly, wanting even more.

Then, they broke apart. Anthony took a step back. Y/N looked at him, breathing heavily. Anthony looked at her, his dark eyes burning into her soul.

There was a moment of stillness. A moment of calm.

Then Anthony surged forward, as did Y/N. They collide. His hands wrapped around her waist as he captured her lips again. They were desperate to devour one another, to know each others bodies, to feel one another after denying their feelings for so long.

Anthony lifted Y/N up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, never once breaking their kiss. He walked back and sat her on the desk, knocking over trinkets and piles of papers. His hands were frantic, desperately undoing the hooks at the back of her dress as she undid his waistcoat.

Desire coursed through them. The need to hold one another overwhelming them both. Y/N's dress fell down from her shoulders and ended up on the floor, forgotten.

As Anthony stepped back, Y/N jumped off the desk and pulled Anthony forward by his cravat. She smiled, licking her swollen lips as she pushed him down until he was kneeling in front of her.

Anthony chuckled, his hands reaching up and pulling down her stockings from around her thighs. Her drawers followed next. Anthony's hands danced over her hips and upper thighs as he guided the material down.

Y/N's hands caressed his face and combed through his hair with her fingers as he undressed her and Anthony tried not to moan in delight. He paused as her hands came around his throat, undoing the cravat and then drifting down to his shirt.

Teasingly, Y/N pulled the edge up, letting her nail lightly drag across his skin. A tremor went through his body, desire flaring between his legs. The shirt landed on the floor next to her dress.

Anthony paused, looking at her. “I will stop if you want me to,” he said softly.

"Please don’t.”

Anthony realised just how much he liked her begging.

Y/N lowered herself to her knees, looking Anthony in the eye. He recognised the look in her eyes and he slowly lowered himself down to the floor, the rug brushing his bare back.

She knelt over him, fingers dancing over his chest. Her hands moved down, brushing between his legs. He nearly came undone there and then. Y/N undid his trousers, sliding the fabric down his legs until they were both exposed.

Y/N lowered herself onto him, a sweetness growing between her legs as she did so. She yearned to reach down and relieve it. Instead, she straightened up, resting on top of Anthony. He tilted his head back, a groan burning in his throat. He let her warm to him, to his touch, and then he arched up slightly, encouraging her movements. Y/N moved with him, their limbs becoming one, entangling with the other.

Anthony reached the horizon of his desire, feeling it's release all over. Y/N rested a hand on his chest, breathing hard. She leant down, kissing his lips, the space behind his ear, his collarbone. She brushed her hand along the side of his face, taking in every mole, every detail.

Anthony took her face in his hands. He gently guided her up, until they were both kneeling again. Then, he pushed her backwards, letting her lower herself onto the floor. Y/N laid on the rug, looking up at Anthony, her eyes caught in his gaze. He knelt over her, his knees either side of her waist, his knee brushing her bare skin.

He smirked as slowly lowered himself downward, caressing every part of her body as he went. His hands ran over her covered breasts, hovering for a moment, before moving down to her stomach. He paused at her thighs and then, when he heard her whimper, went down further, to the sweet spot that yearned to be touched.

Y/N splayed her hands out against the rug as the sweetness between her thighs was eased by hands that knew exactly what to do and a tongue that knew just where to touch.

She didn't even hear the noises she made, so absorbed in the feeling of Anthony's fingers inside her. Her hips bucked up and he pushed them back to the floor, resting his other hand against her abdomen.

Needing something to grasp onto, Y/N reached for his hand. Anthony found it and gripped it tightly, riding with her as each surge of breath came in quick succession.

Y/N arched up, her head tilted back, exposing her throat, as she crested the wave of her release. Anthony finished off as she fell back against the rug, her skin glowing with sweat.

He laid down next to her, his hand coming to lie against her chest. He could feel her heart beating through the corset she still wore.

Neither one spoke - they didn’t need to. Y/N closed her eyes and turned her head, nestling into Anthony’s neck and breathing in deeply. His cologne was stronger there, evidently where he’d rolled it on that morning. Anthony’s thumb rubbed back and forth along her back.

In stark contrast from the hunger and desire that had gripped them moments earlier, they were both settled now. Anthony’s kiss was soft on her cheek, his hands gentle as he caressed her bare skin. Y/N found herself drawing circles on his bare back, following imaginary lines along the divot of his spine.

She sighed softly and relaxed further into his embrace, closing her eyes as she listened to Anthony’s heart beating in time with hers.

She awoke hours later. The candles had burnt down and the sky was dark outside the window. She was still in Anthony’s embrace, his hand lazily flung across her stomach, fingers on her thigh. She turned her head to look at him and he blinked at her sleepily, his hair mussed.

“I suspect I might have to marry you now,” Anthony whispered, tucking her hair behind her ear. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“I suspect you might, Lord Bridgerton” Y/N replied, smiling back. She brushed her hand through his hair. “Luckily for you, I’m all yours.”

“Lucky for me indeed,” Anthony murmured, pressing his lips to hers once more. Slowly. Deliberately.

For they had all the time in the world now.

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton imagines #bridgerton imagines

[wyvernest]

Oh my god I saw your requests were open and I love eveything you write<33

I See many fics where Miguel is the one who is jealous, but what if the tables turned and the reader is the one who is jealous, maybe she’s a civilian and she feels like he’d be better of with a spider person who understands his work better? I’d love to see him feel sad that his love feels that way can you tell I like pain lol

Thank you so so much<33 wishing you all the best for your exam! I’m sure you’ll do amazing!

shameless

pairing: bf!miguel x f!civilian!reader

warnings: jealousy, fluff, suggestiveness, public display of affection

summary: you're worried that miguel might be better off with a spider-person, but he is eager to reassure you (and everyone else) that you're more than enough

a/n:thank you and i hope you like it! im thinking of making a part 2 with balcony sex above nueva york let me know if yall would want it<3

divider by @cafekitsune

You are aware of the so called disadvantages of him being your boyfriend.

He is handsome, no doubt. But that means a lot more than being able to watch him work around the HQ, swinging your legs and wondering how you landed him.

It means having unfamiliar eyes linger over him more than you'd be able to tolerate. Flirty looks and remarks thrown at him like he's magnetic, regardless of everyone knowing he's with you.

Even walking through the glassy hallways and cloud scratching towers of Spider Society is a stab in the heart. 

Noticing all the single spider-women look him up and down, eyelids heavy with the seconds that passed as they unabashedly stared at his physique; his broad back, the bulky arms and toned thighs, at the way the muscles underneath his suit rippled with every heavy step he took, not letting his weight drop lazily on each foot but rather walking with the energetic strength of a man with insane stamina.

You couldn't stop a venomous surge of anxiety mixed with the most sour amount of jealousy from dripping into your nerves as you met their gazes, seeing how beautiful and charismatic they all were.

How agile and gracious they were, swinging by just to blow Miguel a fleeting kiss.

And you certainly couldn't stop wondering if he'd be better off with one of them. One of his kind. One that would be able to swing alongside him, to practise with him, to accompany him.

One that would understand him better than perhaps you ever could.

You know he loves you, or else you wouldn't be together. But the idea that he maybe even once looked at all the women lining up for him and thought they'd be interesting to try is gutting you out.

And he starts noticing it.

Of course.

He isn't oblivious to how you straightened your back or curled your arms around his when another spider woman passed you with flirty looks or remarks. How you'd shut down and become awfully quiet when you two would get home following one of these encounters.

He couldn't bear to see you unhappy. Some of the times he even felt the sharp sting of guilt poking into his heart, knowing that he was the reason others were upsetting you.

More so, your bond.

You are heading towards his lab at HQ, walking beside him, heart pounding intermittently with anxiety and bubbling anger. Eyes darting around you swiftly, like those of a feral feline making sure no other animal is preparing to jump her and snatch her food from her.

Suddenly, two flowy silhouettes shoot mile long webs far up into a tunnel bridge, only to drop down and swing right past you and Miguel. 

Purring out a simultaneous "¡Hola, Miguel! Looking good today!", reaching their hands down to him while boasting perfect balance with their webs tied to their ankles, they disappear into the distanced skyscrapers of Nueva York, with echoing giddy laughters.

Miguel doesn't move his head in their direction, already way too familiar with such interactions, and already too interested in hearing only one particular ¡Hola, Miguel! - yours.

Only your focus isn't on him. Your mind is running wild with how talented they seemed to be, how flexible and enticing. Already imagining him, playfully swinging with them, his force and precision perfectly matching their grace and melodic rhythm.

A dance you could never participate in.

What you also fail to see is the frown on his face as he turns to you, intrigued and finally ready to catch you off guard.

"¿Qué pasó, amor?" (What happened, love?) He leaned into you, dragging you by your arm to stop you behind a glass pillar. 

You're hauled out of your reverie, eyes widening in panic as you think of something less pathetic and embarrassing to say than the truth.

"Hm? Nothing, I just think they're nice to look at." You motion with your head the direction the two women swung in, clarifying. "Everytime you bring me here, it's all so … breathtaking." You internally wince at the excuse, pulling the best poker face you could muster.

He takes a deep breath, annoyed but patient.

"You know you can tell me anything." He assures you, voice low and whispered so as not to embarrass you in front of the spiders passing by. He is aware that the place isn't the most fitting for the conversation, but any other time he'd tried to coax it out of you, you dismissed it with a "It's nothing. I'm just feeling off today."

Truth be told, he had his suspicions. He is by no means unacquainted with the ways of women, and without a single condescending bone in his body when it came to you, he wants you to spit it out so you could talk about it. So he could untangle the knots in your heart, the doubts about him and your relationship.

"I know." You reply shortly, something in you dying to snap out and tell him everything, but instead, you shut it down at the last moment and decided to leave it at that.

"Then why don't you?" He looms over you, unintentionally, but you start to feel utterly cornered. Your heart is drumming out of your chest, and you are more than certain he can at least hear it. His face reveals his disappointment, however hopeful and attentive he wants to seem.

And just like that, your fronts break down.

"I'm - Don't get me wrong," you trail off, not looking him in the eye. You feel his warm breath fan over your forehead, getting dizzy from the sudden proximity. "I love this place. All the work you put into it.." Your eyes meet his for a fleeting second. "But sometimes it reminds me of how different I am.", You pause, waiting for a response. When he doesn't interrupt, you continue, "How I don't fit in,... here, beside you."

"What is that supposed to mean?" He looks almost pissed, as if you had told him he doesn't fit in. As if he was the one that didn't fit you.

"I mean I'm not … them. I'm not a spider."

"I'm aware of that." he retorts, ironically. "When did that stop me from loving you?". His tone is scolding. He is trying to maintain an unaffected demeanor so you would keep talking, but inside, his heart cracks at your words.

Your face heats up, surprised.

"It's not that." You have to actively stop yourself from leaning into his body and hiding into the warmth of his embrace, so that maybe all the jealousy and worry will wash away. But he deserves an explanation, now that you've admitted your feelings. "They know a side of you that I can only imagine. How it feels to be…like you."

His face softens, full of love and pity.

"I'm the odd one out here." You spit out, frustrated with his silence. "I can't give you everything they can!"

"I don't want what they have." He answers quickly, sincerely. You find it hard to believe, even though he's never lied to you.

To you, he's perfect. He deserves everything. Everything he could get.

And you're not enough.

"Escúchame." (Listen to me) He leans closer into you, his breath hot on your face. "Estoy enamorado de ti." (I'm in love with you.) "I only need you to be happy." 

You finally meet his gaze, full of consideration and fondness. You pray to whatever god hears you that he means it, because you're too far gone in your love for him to go back now.

"What will it take for you to just relax and stop being jealous, hm?" He whispers, smugly and amused. It's clear that he's flattered with your sentiments and possessiveness, but wants to nonetheless fix your issues.

You feel yourself getting immersed into the scent of him, his body heat radiating onto yours. You don't quite know the answer yourself. He grabs your waist right above your hips, sending shivers up your spine. Pulling you closer to him, he moves his head to your ear.

"What if I kissed you right here, right now? Let everyone know that I love you, and only you."

Miguel was very clearly overjoyed with the excuse to show you some public affection, especially if it meant having you so flustered and pliant beneath him.

"Would that make you feel better? Knowing they'll be the jealous ones now?"

You nod, more or less consciously, lifting yourself up on your tiptoes almost reflexively.

His warm and eager hands on your waist strengthen their grip, lifting you further up against his body as your feet lose contact with the ground, your chest meeting his. His lips are soft and tender against yours, dancing in a slow, passionate kiss. With your eyes still closed, you hear a few gasps near you in the hall; some happily amused, some offended.

But you don't care. All you care about right now is how he's tilting your head to the side with one of his palms at the back of your neck, slipping his tongue into your mouth and deepening the kiss. 

You continue to make out without a care in the world, just for the whole Spider Society to receive a much needed reminder that Miguel O'Hara is taken. 

His hands knead the supple flesh of your lower back, making your hum softly into his mouth, your own arms curling around his neck in a vicious hold.

When you least expect it, you feel one hand descend swiftly, leaving you no time to react as he grabs at your ass hard, so hard you jolt up against him, eyes snapping open in shock.

Without moving his hand, he presses his nose to your pulse point, exhales sultry on the sensitive skin.

"I have another idea."

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader one shot #atsv miguel #miguel o hara #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o’hara smut #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #spider man 2099 #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #across the spiderverse

[foreficfandom]

POV: You Are Actually MUCH More Powerful Than Alastor (1/2)

(Alastor x Reader, g/n, queerplatonic/sex and romance favorable, fan theories, God!Reader)

Overlords are common sinners that boast many indentured servants to their name. Some also focus on physical territory. Some, like Alastor, don't bother. After all, radio knows little physical limitations.

Every Overlord had their own method of gaining prowess. Know one knows how Alastor became so dangerous. The strongest of the lords. Possibly stronger than some goetia royalty.

You weren't sure, either, but you had an inkling.

Because unbeknownst to anyone, you weren't some common sinner soul.

You were unique. A being originating far from this Christian realm of Heaven and Hell. You were undying, or a reincarnation, or a demigod. But you kept on the down low, 'cause attention would have meant trouble.

You could feel that Alastor's magic was a dark, bloody thing, nestled deep in his chest and hooked tightly like barbed wire. It tasted like sacrifices. It smelled like ultraviolet. And you knew it was borrowed, almost seeing the leash around his neck out of the corner of your eye.

Through a shared interest in the Hazbin Hotel, you and Alastor became acquaintances. Months later, you were proper friends. You could tell that Alastor valued the kind and pure of heart, even if he also believed them pitiful. Because they reminded him of a pleasant, happier life. A hidden part of him wanted to believe in their hope and love.

He thought you were just another sinner soul, and you didn't give him a reason to know any better. You had a job as part of the hotel staff. Their accountant, or security, or maintenance. Or their head concierge, guest service agent, auditor, what have you. Something vital to the business, but nothing glamorous. Labor has always been your most successful mask.

He was growing to love again. His mortal self might have been more recipient of affections and bonds, but decades living in hell has twisted him, and you could see him despair over the lump in his throat. His defeat at the hands of Adam proved his limits. You felt him writhe for weeks afterwards, and you let him reap what he sowed.

Curious, you sneaked away one evening and drew from your well of power to step through the fabric of time, finding yourself on the shores of Lake Pontchartrain to watch a young Alastor drink the blood from a bloody corpse, and spitting it over his shoulder. Some loa watched this bastardized libation from across the crossroads, but what answered was far more malevolent.

Alastor agreed to a very dangerous exchange. He now had hold over magic impressive enough for a mortal, but you knew it to be a relatively bum deal compared to true power. He would hunger constantly for flesh just to feed its energy, which was a cleverly hidden clause to curse him further through devilish consumption. His shadow sprouted antlers and a maw of sharp teeth.

For two decades, Alastor hunted and ate. Always male victims, usually white men, individuals some might damn as monsters themselves - the abusers, the genociders, the murderously entitled. What was once a scared young man grew hollow and fat on the power.

You've seen enough. Stepping through once more, you joined Alastor in cooking an orzo for shrove Tuesday. Sharpening your gaze, you watched his reflection on the shiny metal surface of a pot, and saw the stitches embedded in his face, pulling tight and vicious.

You nonchalantly asked, "How did you become so proficient at the kitchen knife?"

"Well, I was taught that one could eat, or they could eat well," he replied in a sing-song voice. "And practice makes perfect! Hunger is truly the best teacher."

The meat he was pairing was pork, but you knew he's served human flesh for dinner at least once before. You didn't say anything, because they'd grow suspicious at how you could possibly know from just the smell.

Alastor allowed only you to join him in cooking, partly because he favored you so much more, also because you were a right hand at making a meal. You didn't mention that millennia of existence made one a right hand at any skill.

And tonight, he would begin to see it.

Leaving the broth to simmer, you grabbed a small pairing knife and one of the tomatoes. Instead of simply coring and slicing, you inserted 0.013'' of carbon, chromium, and manganese right between where the molecular cells of epidermis ended at the pericarp. In a single momentum of both your knife and the tomato, the skin was perfectly peeled within two rotations.

Alastor wasn't even looking at you. But he froze over the cutting board, rictus smile sharp.

You haven't even used magic yet.

Both the tomato epidermis and its flayed flesh were completely free of any trace of the other, so in one hand, you ignited the skin to transmogrify into a tiny figurine made out of its glycerin wax. In the other, the tomato was sacrificed in a hole of light-bending void for its animal equivalent - the tiny heart of some small animal, possibly a bird or an amphibian, beating calmly as if alive.

Alastor slowly turned his head to watch as a miniature wax replica of himself held the heart in both shaking hands, before doubling over to devour it whole, its relative size and gore very reminiscent of a large, juicy tomato.

A picture perfect snapshot of his fifth or sixth murder while alive. Some world war veteran that still longed for the battlefield and had exercised his frustration upon his mother and younger siblings. The man might have been rotten, but his warrior's blood had burned hot and nourished Alastor's gaping void particularly well.

(NEXT)

#alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel imagines

[vampiric-tempt]

I NEED to know HCs on introducing them to your family for the holidays

Bring the drama.

*insert gif of that guy in The Office staring through the blinds, staring mincingly.*

↳˳❝ bringing the mk1 cast to meet the family₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

headcanons w/ liu kang, kung lao, raiden, johnny cage, kenshi, tomas vrbada, bi-han, kuai liang, reiko, & shang tsung

a/n: not even going to lie, this was very difficult for me to do for some reason. Maybe it's because of my writer's block, but I tried lovely anon, I hope you like it 🥺🫶🏼

Liu Kang ➤ He's not worried at all. He's really composed and knows exactly what to say and do to make sure he makes a great first impression. When you introduced Liu to your parents, they were stunned by how well-mannered he was especially with the tattoos that covered his arms. He gave them compliments, buttering them up and winning them over easily.

"My, he is so lovely! When will we being getting grandkids?" Your mother asked.

You awkwardly laughed hissing at her to be quiet and Liu Kang smiled lovingly as he watched you and your family bicker. He was definitely given the nod of approval from your father.

Kung Lao ➤ Kung Lao was very prideful and boasted about how much he would cherish and love you. To say your parents were a bit skeptical at first, overtime they realized how much you brightened up whenever Kung Lao would talk to you. He was also very respectful to your parents, treating them as if he would any elder, just like Madam Bo. However, I feel as if Kung Lao would have beef with y/n's brother if they have one.

"You're my sibling's boyfriend? I thought you'd be better?" Your brother would tease with a shit-eating grin.

And thus, the rivalry between your lover and brother began. Of course it wasn't too serious, they'd often challenge each other in a lot of things and Kung Lao rather liked the competition.

Raiden ➤ He definitely bought flowers and chocolates for them. His hand squeezing yours as you two arrived at the house. Raiden was definitely nervous, but he tried his best to ensure his first impression went well. Your mother thought he was the sweetest man ever as he helped you and your mother cook for dinner, but your father on the other hand was not impressed. He believed Raiden was too kind and wasn't enough to be beside a person like you. Although, it did not affect Raiden at all, he was determined to prove himself to your father that he was capable of protecting you. Eventually your father realized he could protect you (knowing he could fight), but he was baffled by how innocent Raiden looked.

Bi-Han ➤ Your parents were beyond stunned by how TOO well-mannered the man was. Bi-Han is very independent and proved that he could handle himself, but with his professionalism and blunt emotions, your parents came to worry that he lacked a bit of personality and even questioned how you managed to get someone so strict in nature. However, Bi-Han, deep down inside, did worry about his impression on your parents. They were YOUR parents after all. His lover's, his life. Even so, it would take time for your parents and Bi-Han to warm up to each other, both ends trying just for your sake.

Kuai Liang ➤ Um excuse me. They want grandkids already. He was a perfect spitting image of a great husband. Your mother and father were so pleased with his looks, personality, and ideologies. Your father was so proud. Both Kuai and your father giving each other a firm handshake of approval and admiration. Kuai Liang had no issues with your family at all, it was as if he was already a part of it and he never felt more happier.

When you two finally had some time alone, he hugged you from behind, kissing the nape of your neck. "They're lovely, your family." He says.

You lean back into him with a satisfied smile. "I know. . .they think you are too, my love."

Tomas Vrbada ➤ Tomas felt uneasy about the whole thing. He was nervous, especially due to his past and the vast difference of his childhood compared to yours. Your parents, however, were in awe by how pretty he was, his grey hair and pearlescent eyes were just unique to them. They even thought he was very sweet. Tomas did his very best to gain your parents approval and luckily, they thought he was good for you.

Tomas couldn't help, but smile, his arm pulling you into his side. "This is a lot different from what I expected." He'd say, kissing the top of your head. "But I'm glad to have finally met them."

Johnny Cage ➤ Firstly, there really was no need for an introduction. After all he was THE Johnny Cage. They were glad that you would be taken care of financially, however, there was skepticism when it came to his flamboyant and cocky attitude. They feared Johnny would break you heart and cheat on you like many terrible celebrities'.

But what you didn't expect was Johnny to become serious during dinner, raising his glass for a toast. "Mr and Mrs (L/n), trust me when I say I will love them and cherish them with everything I have. . .and every step of the way." Johnny told them with full sincerity. He then looked to you with a gaze filled with nothing but love

It was a bit shocking for you, seeing Johnny be serious for once. He just vowed he'd be there for you every step of the way and that made your parents feel better about him, small smiles reaching their features. As for you, you became even more enamored with the man.

Kenshi Takahashi ➤ Of course, they were happy to see how well-mannered Kenshi was. He demonstrated a great attitude, but when they found out about his yakuza past, their trust drastically dropped. They worried you'd get caught up in things that could potentially lead to your death. But after awhile, when Kenshi became an FBI agent, they were grateful for the change. Unfortunately, your parents still held concerns.

"Your lover having a job like that, how will he be around to take care of you?"

Kenshi was saddened upon hearing this but it did not stop him from loving you. He promised he would not abandon you, his arms wrapped tightly around you the night you told him.

Shang Tsung ➤ Shang was surprisingly very respectful and gained your parents trust fast. He would charm them over easily with his cunning use of words as he drank wine with your parents at the table. It was a wonderful night of just talking about each other's interests and goals, Shang obviously hiding his true words with fake but impressive cover-ups. And if y/n has little siblings, Shang would mess with them, pranking them randomly on purpose just for shits and giggles.

In the end your mother went to you, her hands grabbing yours. "He is a lovely man, I think he looks a bit fruity. But whatever makes you happy my sweet child."

"Mother?!"

Reiko ➤ An immediate dislike for them. Your mother was beyond worried, perceiving him as dangerous and thinking he'd be the type to harm you. But you had reassured her that he was nothing from the sort and was rather really passionate about his love for you. But Reiko and your father developed a pissing contest on who could provide more protection over you. And your father does not like Reiko's disregard of seniority as he only held loyalty to General Shao. However, in Reiko's point of view, he believed he was demonstrating strength by challenging your father. Additionally, Reiko would boast about how perfect you are for him and accidentally making it come off as if your were his trophy spouse, making your father and mother dislike him even more. Your father ESPECIALLY.

" I think that went well!" Reiko says with a proud grin.

You pat the side of his arm awkwardly. "Reiko, babe. . .let's talk."

╰┈➤ masterlist

#mortal kombat 1 x reader #mk1 x reader #mortal kombat hcs #mortal kombat x reader #mortalkombat1 #mk1 #gender neutral reader

[dawnholde-if]

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

╔═══════《✧》═══════╗

WELCOME TO DAWNHOLDE

INSTITUTE FOR THE ARCANE

╚═══════《✧》═══════╝

Dear [REDACTED],

Hello, and thank you for applying to the Dawnholde Institute, located in Solador, Land of Eclipses. We're pleased to offer you acceptance to the Institute as a first-year student. During your time here, you'll strengthen your specialty magic, as well as branch out to other types to diversify your skill set. We boast the top magic programs in the land for students, with fulfilling extracurriculars and a competitive environment designed to help every young mage and magician thrive, as well as students from a variety of backgrounds as a testament to the diversity of our world.

We look forward to your arrival, and hope that your years with us will be filled with enlightenment.

Praise be to the Sun,

Eruless Chromavere, Head of Magical Studies

You are the firstborn child of the Monarch of the island nation of Sparia, located in the treacherous Sacred Sea. You're set to inherit the throne once the current Monarch has passed on, but you could want nothing less. Becoming the greatest mage in the land is your end goal, so one night you flee to Solador, home to the Dawnholde Institute for the Arcane, the best magic school in the realm. It's been your dream to go there ever since you were young.

Keep your identity hidden to stay out of prying eyes and out of the way of your parent's spies trying to bring you back. Make allies and enemies while keeping up with your studies, join a club (or not), and... fall in love ? That's not part of the plan, but things happen, just don't let it distract you.

Play as male, female, or nonbinary and choose your pronouns

Decide which magic to specialize in, be it elemental, healing, object manipulation, or a number of any other kinds.

Meet 6 RO's, 3 of which are gender selectable

Take lessons in various magical subjects on your quest for greatness

Academic Rivals to Friends (to Lovers ?)

There is a dragon guy :)

Summon one of 4 familiars

Avoid the drama that plagues all schools

Name: Finch K. Lorelai

Pronouns: They/Them Heritage: Half-Elf Magical Specialty: Necromancy Year: 2nd Brief Description: Finch comes from a long lineage of necromancers, is widely considered one of the only child prodigies to come out of that field, and possesses the ability to speak to the dead. They're ambitious and your self-proclaimed academic rival. They don't like sharing the top spot and is antagonistic towards you, even more so if they learn your true identity. The lines between disdain and affection are very fine, however, and there's the possibility to sweep their feet out from under them when they least expect it.

Name: Desily Bramblecove

Pronouns: She (default)/They (selectable) Heritage: Faefolk (Pixie) Magical Specialty: Shapeshifting Year: 3rd Brief Description: Desily is a difficult spirit to pin down, often doing what she wants when she wants to. She loves playing hard to get and causing general uproar, then slipping away to let others deal with the aftermath. She's fickle, even for a fae, but obsessive. If you're not careful, you may fall into her grasp without even realizing it. If you so choose to spend time with her, be prepared to partake in any schemes she may cook up.

Name: Merrick Midae

Pronouns: They (default)/He/She (selectable) Heritage: Merfolk (Anglerfish) Magical Specialty: Light Manipulation Year: 1st Brief Description: A shy, not-very-little merperson who came to land to study all manners of magic. A jack of all trades, Merrick is a little good at most magic, but they wanted to learn more about what was beyond the sea. They're not the bravest, but they'd do anything for a close friend. Perhaps they'll take a liking to you.

Name: Caidrith, Ruler of Rime

Pronouns: He (default)/She/They (selectable) Heritage: Draconic Royalty Magical Specialty: Ice and Temperature manipulation Year: 4th Brief Description: Caidrith, or simply Caid, as you know him, is the only person at Dawnholde who knows of your past. Caid is the second-born to the rulers over northern dragonkin. Though his chances of accquiring the throne are low, it's better to be safe than sorry. He enrolled in the school to learn self defense, then stuck around for the people. You've known him since childhood, as your parents often had strategy meetings together. He can be stoic, but you know Caid cares for you, though maybe not in a way you know of.

Name: Rycharde, Knight of the Tainted Lands

Pronouns: He/Him Heritage: Catfolk Magical Specialty: Protection and Healing Year: 3rd Brief Description: Rycharde hails from a plague-ridden kingdom on it's last legs. Catfolk are usually able to use magic due to distant Fae ancestery, but Rycharde has no innate magic. Instead, he draws on the patron deity of his city for his power, making him a magician instead of a mage. He's proud of his failing homeland and devoted to his city, but that's not the only thing he could turn his attention to. After all, temptation is one hell of a motivator.

Name: Cere Quicrow

Pronouns: She/Her Heritage: Manifested Air Elemental (Birdfolk appearance) Magical Specialty: Divination Year: 1st Brief Description: Cere takes the form of a birdfolk, but is a manifested elemental in reality. She takes great pride in her appearance and is quite vain, but hates being the center of attention and keeps to herself. She's flighty and a perfectionist, leaving herself conflicted on what she really wants, be it freedom and impulsive decisions or to finish her "secret project." Maybe she'll let you in on it if you're nice to her?

DEMO [TBA] \\ CAST LIST [TBA] \\ ASKBOX \\ DEV DISCORD \\ CARRD [TBA]

#dawnholde if #finch lorelai #desily bramblecove #merrick midae #caidrith ror #rycharde kotl #cere quicrow #interactive fiction #upcoming if #if wip #if game #demo wip #demo tba #if #scared as fuck to post this but im excited too !

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

IOTA Reviews: Emotion

Hey, remember Felix? You know, that minor character who is the entire reason Gabriel has all of Ladybug's other Miraculous? The writers remembered he existed more than halfway through the season.

Let's get into the eighteenth episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fifth season: Emotion

We start off with Marinette and Adrien getting ice cream, and just like last episode, right when they're about to kiss, Adrien stops at the last second. While we don't see it, it's heavily implied that Gabriel is behind this. It turns out that Adrien has to get ready for some dance for rich people. While it has a name and I think it was mentioned in a few earlier episodes this season, it's really just some dance for rich people, so I don't care enough to remember it. Of course, all of the rich characters we know are invited, like Kagami, Chloe, Zoe, and Prince Ali. Lila, on the other hand, wasn't invited. This might sound important, but nothing happens with her until the end.

Zoe isn't going because of the “character development” she's gotten, so she offers to let Marinette wear her dress to the dance, which just so happens to be a masquerade ball. Tikki asks why Marinette even wants to go to this party she wasn't invited to, but all Marinette says is that it's so she can tell Adrien that she didn't have to keep the dance a secret from her. Why didn't Marinette just call Adrien? Because then we wouldn't have a story.

At the ball, Adrien and Kagami are the king and queen or whatever because their parents are really determined to make their ship sail even though the two show no real interest in each other (insert your own joke about the writers here), but they're interrupted by Amelie, Emilie's twin sister and Felix's mom. She's worried because her son has been missing for weeks, but Gabriel couldn't care less about the little twerp.

At the party, we get a somewhat amusing joke where Chloe fails to recognize Marinette under her mask, where Marinette not only says her name is Zoe, but her “underling” is named Chloe too. But speaking of...

Chloe: How rich are your parents? Rich? Very rich? Immensely rich? Of course, otherwise you wouldn't be here! It's too bad we can't bring out underlings with us. I'm sure these tin cans can serve properly but we can't make fun of them! (grabs a drink from a butler robot before kicking it) So lame!

Okay, did the writers just stop caring about writing convincing dialogue for Chloe? This is a problem I've noticed a lot this season. Yeah, Chloe was bad in the last four seasons, but here, she constantly talks about how Sabrina is her “underling” (Passion), or how she finds Marinete's suffering to be amusing (Derision). It's not really out of character, but it's weird how she's so much more blunt when it comes to boasting about how full of herself she is. It feels like a lot of her lines this season were meant to be placeholders for stuff the writers thought they'd change later, but then they decided to keep it in anyway. And of course to show how stuck up the other rich kids saying the same kind of stuff Chloe normally says, which is somehow less subtle social commentary than Hop Pop shouting “EAT THE RICH!”.

Adrien and Kagami talk about how they're expected to follow orders, while pretty much saying that Kagami is a Sentimonster since the camera really wants to show off her ring.

Oh wow. what does this mean? Wow, this is such a compelling mystery with so many twists and turns. I am so very invested right now.

However, as the two talk, it's clear that Adrien isn't himself, literally.

“Adrien”: Let's leave, I dare you.

Kagami: Are you insane? We can't do that.

“Adrien”: Of course, we can. I can.

Kagami: (gasps) You'd do that?

“Adrien”: Wanna bet?

Kagami: No, we can't.

“Adrien”: See? You're not as free as you claim. Don't you think we should be able to decide our future?

I'll get back to this later.

Marinette tells “Adrien” that she loves her, but Chloe figures out that Marinette crashed a party she wasn't invited to. Of course, because this is Chloe, we're supposed to ignore how unnecessary this plan was for Marinette. Seriously, Marinette crashing the party in “Gabriel Agreste”, as illogical as it was, made sense, because they needed to stop Chloe from showing Gabriel incriminating footage of Marinette. Here, Marinette had no real reason to crash this party when all she had to do was call Adrien, and Chloe, like her or hate her, makes a good point in that she wasn't invited. But again, since this is Season 5 Chloe, she could say she opposes human trafficking, and the writers would still find a way to make her look like the bad guy.

Chloe tells the other rich kids to help her expose Marinette, but because they're so stuck up and entitled, they refuse to touch her. I'll give you all a moment to groan from that unfunny joke. Then we get this conversation between Marinette and “Adrien”.

“Adrien”: All eyes are on you.

Marinette: They're looking at me like I'm a monster.

“Adrien”: Look closer, Marinette. (whispers into her ear) They're the monsters.

I officially take back everything bad I ever said about the Canto Bight scenes from The Last Jedi.

While I get what the episode's going for, we really haven't seen a lot of the 1% doing things that would actually warrant this level of scorn from the audience. Yeah, most of them were egotistical snobs, especially Chloe, but you can't really see this as a shot at the elite when it's aimed at their children instead of their parents. All we've seen in this episode is the rich kids being jerks (and even then, it's played for laughs), Chloe rightfully trying to get Marinette thrown out of a party she had no reason to crash, and Gabriel and Tomoe trying to pair their children together. If you want to show the audience how bad rich people are, you need to show them actually abusing their power and mistreating others. As bad as the aforementioned Canto Bight scenes were, they still worked because it managed to back up the point it was trying to make.

Compare this to characters like the Ferengi from Star Trek or the World Nobles from One Piece. These are allegories for the 1% that work because they do a better job at exaggerating aspects of them that can translate to how we see the elite in our world. With the Ferengi, they represent everything wrong with cutthroat businessmen who base their entire society over financial gains, and with the World Nobles, they represent the disconnect with the common people by being so arrogant, they wear helmets that prevent them from breathing the same air as the commoners. If you wanted to show how bad the rich were, especially considering what's going to happen in a few minutes, you needed to do more to make the audience not like them so we'd be more happy to see them get their comeuppance.

Marinette figures out that Felix impersonated Adrien once again (it honestly stops being impressive when he's done it during literally every episode he appears in), and he decides to transform using the Peacock Miraculous in public for some reason, calling himself Argos.

Argos' design is okay. The suit and coattails look pretty nice, and the coloring on his face works a lot better than Gabriel's. The only problem I have is the way the hood looks. It looks too goofy to go with the rest of the suit. It kind of reminds me of that salmon suit Squidward wore in that one episode of SpongeBob SquarePants.

Before anyone else at the party can do anything, Argos reveals a Sentimonster he created, Red Moon.

Red Moon is... a red moon. It's just a red moon that floats above the city, and it gives Argos the ability to make anyone bathed in its light disappear with a snap of his fingers. If anything, this shows how overpowered the Peacock Miraculous is, and that Gabriel was a real idiot for not trying anything like this while he was Shadowmoth.

Anyway, after making everyone think his cousin is a supervillain as part of his brilliant plan, Argos decides to tell everyone in the room about what his Sentimonster can do. He demonstrates this by, of course, choosing to snap away Chloe before targeting Gabriel and Tomoe. You really have your priorities straight, buddy. Argos then carries Marinette outside before throwing her in a dumpster, because if he snapped her away, than Ladybug couldn't fight him.

But then Argos decides to go to the streets, and decides to snap away a bunch of innocent civilians... while singing a jazz song. To anyone curious as to what it sounds like, I must warn you, it isn't for the feint of heart.

I take back everything bad I ever said about the Hawkmoth rap.

First off, I'm just going to say it, Bryce Papenbrook cannot sing. Argos is clearly trying to sound like a suave and confident villain like Doctor Facilier from The Princess and the Frog, but his delivery is terrible. It either ranges from flat monotone to trying to shout while dealing with a sore throat. The point I'm trying to make is that there was a good reason someone else did the singing voice for Adrien in the recent movie.

Second, this doesn't do anything to make us root for Argos as a character, because there's no reason for him to be doing this. I can understand why he'd use his power to get rid of Gabriel and Tomoe (even Chloe, given we know how much she's done), but why is he suddenly going nuts snapping a bunch of random people who haven't even met him before? The episode tries to make him a character who only does bad things because he has no choice to, so him doing this to a bunch of innocent civilians makes no sense.

Finally, WHY THE HELL IS THIS SCENE A MUSICAL NUMBER?! It's hard enough to see Argos callously wipe out a bunch of bystanders, essentially committing genocide, but the tone of the song is all upbeat and cheery, while the lyrics are about how Argos should get whatever he wants. What is the purpose of adding a song here? Are we supposed to find this funny? Is it meant to establish Felix as a wild card? Is the song supposed to make us like him more because of how catchy it is? What was the writers' endgame here? Like I mentioned earlier, this flies in the face of the characterization the episode is trying to establish for him.

Marinette transforms into Ladybug and arrives on the scene, confronting Argos over what he did last season.

Ladybug: You're the reason why I lost the other Miraculous in the first place! And why he took them! You gave them to him without any regard for the consequences it might have with the people of Paris!

Argos: True, except I work for no one. I only helped Monarch cause it served my plans! I needed the Peacock Miraculous and today I need yours and Cat Noir's so I can make my wish!

Ladybug: Your wish?! What do you want?! What are you trying to do?! You're destroying the world and we don't even know why!

Argos: When I merge your Miraculous together, I'll make a wish to create a better world! A free world, where no one will be under anyone's control anymore, where no one will be excluded like I was! A world without people like you to decide what's right or wrong! Who gets powers and who doesn't!

Dude, you're literally playing God right now by snapping away people who did nothing wrong, while singing a song at that. You have no right to lecture Ladybug on how to use power responsibly. And once again, even though we just saw him happily snapping people out of existence like the kid from that one Twilight Zone episode, the episode is going back to portraying him as someone who's only doing this because he has nothing to lose.

Ladybug tries to use her Lucky Charm, but gets nothing in response. This is because her plan is to get Argos to give up, but even in episodes where her plan was to get Akumas to give up, she still got her Lucky Charm (Rocketear, Qilin, Penalteam, Reunion, Perfection, Intuition), so this doesn't really make any sense. Ladybug calls Argos' bluff, so he wipes out everyone from existence. After running into Kagami and snapping Adrien back into existence, Argos is surprised that they aren't thanking him for wiping out all of humanity, and in fact, see him as a complete psychopath.

We then learn Felix's true plan. Earlier that day, Argos capitalized on a opening he had been hoping he would get for weeks, and then created Red Moon. Right after Adrien's date with Marinette, Argos ambushed Adrien, and snapped him out of existence with Red Moon's power. He then decided to impersonate Adrien so he could infiltrate the dance and snap Gabriel, Tomoe, and everyone else out of existence.

I think my feelings on this plan can be perfectly summarized by Tony Stark.

First off, why did he need to sneak into the dance? All Felix had to do was transform into Argos, and nobody would know who he really was.

Second, why did he need to impersonate Adrien? Felix claims he's doing this for him, yet all he did was steal his girlfriend and ruin his public reputation. As a matter of fact, why did he even snap Adrien away? You're already wiping out all of humanity, so I don't think temporarily doing the same to Adrien will earn you any goodwill.

Third, why did he waste so much time screwing around with Marinette and Kagami? I sort of get why he would try to get in Kagami's good graces (keyword being “try”) by trying to convince her to rebel against her mother more, but why did he dance around with Marinette while pretending to be Adrien? Felix later says he wanted to spare Marinette for Adrien's sake, but he barely knows her, and whether she finds out Felix impersonated her boyfriend or not, she's going to be pissed at either you or Adrien because of your galavanting. In fact, I don't think he ever told Adrien that he danced with Marinette while at the dance in the first place.

Finally, he really needed to wait for this for weeks? If your goal was to get rid of Gabriel and Tomoe, why didn't you just ambush them yourself instead of waiting for a public function? This isn't like has last few appearances where he needed to rely on his intellect. He has superpowers now. All he has to do is create another Sentibug or some kind of assassin Sentimonster and he can be rid of them easily. Instead, he waited weeks for a chance to steal his cousin's identity, dance with his girlfriend, talk trash about Kagami for listening to her mother when he's supposed to be helping her and Adrien, blow his cover in a crowded area by transforming, and use his killer moon to erase all of humanity from existence while singing. Remember, this is the show that usually makes jokes about Marinette's obsession with unnecessarily complicated plans.

Anyway, Argos tries to use his powers to bring Marinette back, but for some reason, they won't work. My best guess is that it's because Marinette transformed into Ladybug, but that shouldn't chance the fact that Argos snapped her with Red Moon's power. After trying to justify his genocide by saying he never wanted to hurt Adrien and Kagami, Argos remembers how his powers work and brings everyone back. After Ladybug lets him go scot-free, Argos goes to a private place realizes that he may have made a few mistakes for almost wiping out all of humanity, tearfully snapping Red Moon out of existence, calling it “his sister”. Because I guess we were supposed to emotionally connect to the giant moon that showed little to no signs of sentience this entire episode? Argos transforms back to Felix, and we learn that Amelie knew where he was the whole time, and she was apparently testing Gabriel for some reason.

After Adrien explains to Marinette that his father ordered him to not tell her about the dance, Adrien goes to talk to Gabriel about it. Gabriel, being Gabriel uses his control over Adrien to force him to never talk about Marinette again. Gabriel then gets a call from Lila, and even though she's been nothing but helpful to him since Season 3, he's apparently tired with her. Why is he suddenly rejecting the help of his most competent (by comparison) ally?

Also, the episode ends with the revelation that Lila somehow knows Gabriel is Monarch. Why? How? I DON'T CARE, BECAUSE THIS EPISODE SUCKS!

Oh my God, this episode was just terrible! “Derision” and “Adoration” definitely got to me with the way their stories were handled, but this was the first episode in a while to really piss me off. The plot was contrived as hell, basically being a repeat of “Gabriel Agreste”, and you all know how I wasn't exactly a fan of that episode. Think about it: Marinette sneaks into a party, Felix tries to scheme against Gabriel, and Marinette and Adrien end up getting caught in one of his schemes.

The social commentary about how bad the rich were just felt more pretensions than anything else. I get that it's meant to teach children a lesson about the real world, but the episode feels so confident in what its trying to say when it's not that deep, even by kids' show standards. Rich people are bad? Yeah, I think someone like me who lives in the same country as Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos, and Mark Zuckerberg knows that. Will you actually teach kids about the financial conditions that allow the wealthy to abuse their power or the cutthroat methods they'll resort to in order to turn a profit? No? You're just going to tell kids that rich people are jerks without giving any actual evidence in the same episode you're using to try and to teach them? Man, these writers just keep hitting it out of the park here!

This whole “Rich people suck” message also falls flat because Felix is the one pushing it. You know, someone who already comes from a rich family? It's not like Bruce Wayne where he uses his money to help the people of Gotham, as Batman or not. Felix just whines about how “tHeY'rE tHe MoNsTeRs.” when he's just as well-off as they are. The episode tries to do a subtle discrimination message as evidenced by his rant as Argos earlier, but it doesn't work because we have never seen anyone discriminate against Felix for who he is. Yeah, the episode once again tries to hint at him being a Sentimonster, but because the show hasn't just pulled the trigger and confirmed it, it's hard to really sympathize with him being “excluded” when we've never seen him being treated differently by others in earlier episodes, and even if he was a Sentimonster, nobody would know or be able to discriminate against him in the first place.

I don't know why the show keeps trying to excuse Felix's actions when once again, he pretty much committed fucking genocide yet the episode still wanted us to feel bad for him realizing his actions had consequences. If he actually wanted to own up to his mistakes, he'd either hand over the Peacock Miraculous to Ladybug or help Ladybug stop Monarch. For someone who claims he hates when people abuse power to make others suffer, he's no better, judging from how both times he's gotten to use a Miraculous, he's either screwed over Ladybug (Strikeback) or endangered a lot of innocent people. And if you're wondering why I didn't point out any double standards between the treatment of Felix compared to Chloe, that doesn't really matter. No matter how you feel about Chloe, whether you feel like she got screwed over or not, it doesn't really make how the writers are glorifying Felix any better or worse, as his potential “redemption arc” isn't off to a good start.

The plot was stupid, Felix was an idiot, and it felt like more effort was put into the musical number than the writing. In my opinion, this is easily the worst episode of the season so far.

Although at the very least, now that we have even more evidence that Adrien, Felix, and even Kagami are all Sentimonsters, I think I know what clip I can start using to describe my feelings on this plotline.

THE BIGGEST IDIOT OF THE EPISODE IS... FELIX

For someone who managed to outsmart Gabriel on multiple occasions with no superpowers, Felix's intelligence really took a nosedive the second he got the Peacock Miraculous. He came up with a completely unnecessary plan that involved impersonating his cousin's identity and mocking his friend when he's supposed to try and win their favor, he danced with his cousin's girlfriend without his consent, transformed in public, smearing his reputation even further, and proceeded to gleefully wipe out humanity through a musical number, and needed other people to point out how immoral his actions were. Of course, Marinette gets second place thanks to her plan to break into the party and later letting Argos get away.

#immaturity of thomas astruc #iota #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug salt #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #adrien agreste #cat noir #chat noir #felix graham de vanily #argos #gabriel agreste #hawkmoth #hawk moth #monarch #monarch miraculous #kagami tsurugi #chloe bourgeois #zoe lee #lila rossi #tomoe tsurugi #nathalie sancoeur #amelie graham de vanily #red moon #Youtube

[wildandsmile]

☆.｡.:* The Perfect Day *:.｡.☆

Summary: Your boyfriend has been consistently ignoring you, leaving you puzzled. Every time you attempt to engage in a conversation, he remains confined to the kitchen, citing it as part of a personal challenge. However, you find his explanation dubious.

Tw : Miscommunication, Misunderstanding, Clingy Reader (just a bit),

Wc: 3.7k

Kinks : Switch Sanji, Switch Reader, oral (giving + receiving), Cream-pie, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), Rough sex, Mommy Kink and Fuck Toy pet name”

An: Happy day 2 of Kinktober

Enjoy!

On a perfectly ordinary day aboard the Sunny, the golden sun painted the sky with its gentle rays, and the breeze whispered sweetly through the air. Everything felt idyllic, except for one missing piece - your boyfriend, Sanji, who was diligently immersed in the kitchen. You couldn't help but yearn for him to step out, embrace the glorious weather, and share in the perfection of the day. Alas, it seemed impossible, for once Sanji committed himself to a task, nothing could divert his unwavering focus. Why, you wondered, was he toiling so tirelessly that he had no time for his beloved?

The answer to your dilemma is surprisingly straightforward. Sanji had issued a challenge to his father for a cook-off, a ritual they engaged in regularly. Ostensibly, they claimed it was to refine their culinary skills, but everyone understood that it was mostly about boasting rights. However, what truly weighed on your mind in this particular situation was the deviation from their usual routine. Typically, when they embarked on these friendly cook-offs, Sanji would inform you in advance, reassuring you that he'd be occupied for a while. It always eased the solitude you felt. Yet this time, as you instinctively reached out to seek comfort from your boyfriend, you realized he was conspicuously absent.

You casually dismissed it, assuming that Sanji had risen early to prepare breakfast. However, your perception shifted as you rose from your slumber and ventured towards the kitchen. Ordinarily, the air would be filled with the delightful aroma of maple syrup and freshly squeezed juice, but today was a stark departure from the norm. There was no trace of those enticing scents. Instead, you were greeted by the chaotic scene of Chopper and Usopp pounding on the kitchen door, their cries for Sanji to grant them entry ringing through the air. Observing the commotion, you approached the door and inquired of the two lively individuals, "Hey, what's going on?" Your expression remained stoic, secretly hoping they'd pick up on your unwillingness to endure their loud voices so early in the morning. Alas, they failed to catch the hint and both fervently appealed to you for aid in their predicament.

"You have to help us! Sanji won't let us in the kitchen," Usopp exclaimed, his voice quivering in tandem with Chopper's. Fed up with their emotional outburst, you gently shook them off your legs. As you approached the kitchen door, their teary-eyed plea echoed in your ears. To your amusement, you discovered a sign affixed to the door, bearing a whimsical illustration of flames and a warning that anyone stepping inside would become ingredients for his "newest" dish. The childlike touch in the sign made you chuckle.

Though you didn't want to waste too much time, you knocked on the kitchen door, calling out, "Sanji, can we come in? We're starving!" Silence prevailed, prompting you to give it a few more minutes. You wondered if he might be rummaging in the pantry or had the water running too loudly to hear your initial call.

After waiting for another 15 painstaking minutes, your patience ran thin, and you decided to knock on the door once more. This time, there was a subtle rustling from the other side, igniting a glimmer of hope that Sanji might finally open the door. However, instead of revealing himself, he swiftly cracked the door open just enough to slip on another sign.

The new sign read, "Sorry, Mi Amor, I can't let you in right now. But if you're hungry, I've left your favorite snack in our room for you to enjoy. As for the two behind you, tell them to piss off." His reluctance to face you in person began to irritate you, prompting you to knock forcefully on the door, now shouting, "Sanji, you know you could just talk to us instead of putting notes on the door!"

In response, another note swiftly appeared on the door, bearing Sanji's heartfelt message: "I know it's rude, but if I step outside and see your beautiful face, I might get too distracted. I'm battling for something serious, so I can't afford to lose this battle. Please understand, Mi Amor."

"Whatever," you huffed, frustration fueling your actions as you dramatically threw your hands in the air. Storming away, you retreated to your room in a whirlwind of emotions. Anger churned within you, and you collapsed onto your bed, rolling over as if sleep could magically erase your urge to storm back to the kitchen and break down the door just to give your boyfriend a piece of your mind.

Days passed, almost 2 weeks in total, and the longer you distanced yourself from Sanji, the more profound your loneliness and discontent grew. Today marked the day of his impending cook-off with his father. You had resolved that once this culinary showdown concluded, you would corner Sanji and unleash your pent-up frustrations, no longer willing to hold back.

There you were, perched on the deck of the Sunny alongside the rest of the crew, joined by Zeff's crew. Patience was the order of the day as the father-and-son culinary duo emerged from the kitchen, proudly presenting their dishes one by one. The feast began with creamy shrimp and crab bisque for appetizers, followed by a steaming plate of seafood rice. To cap off this delectable meal, they brought out Chocolat au Crumble de Fraises, all of which was washed down with a refreshing cola chosen by none other than Franky himself.

The moment had arrived for everyone to cast their votes. One by one, you all ventured into the kitchen, slipping a piece of paper bearing your name into a box marked with the respective chef's name. As you lingered, waiting for your turn, you strategically chose to go last, hoping Sanji would be compelled to meet your gaze at the table. However, your plan seemed to crumble when all he did was steal quick glances your way before turning back to his business.

Finally, it was your moment, and you pushed back from the table, making your way to the kitchen with determination in every step. There was no shock or surprise about whose box you'd place your paper into; it was a given. As you slid your paper into Sanji's box, you returned outside, casting a fierce glare in his direction the entire way. However, he remained unperturbed, not even raising an eyebrow in response, which only fueled your simmering anger.

When Nami rose from her seat and ventured into the kitchen, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation. She always announced the winner, but this time, your excitement was far from the usual "I hope my boyfriend wins." Instead, it was the eager anticipation of "I can't wait for this to be over so I can give my boyfriend a piece my mind" kind of excitement.

Before long, Nami raised the card high into the air, capturing everyone's attention. "Can I get a drum roll, please?" she requested, and Franky and Brook eagerly obliged, joyously providing the rhythmic beat. With the anticipation building, Nami brought the card back to her face, scrutinizing both sides of the table before dramatically declaring, "And the winner is... Sanji!"

A tidal wave of cheers erupted, and hats and sandals soared into the air in celebration. Amid the jubilation, Zeff strolled over to Sanji, offering him a hearty pat on the back as he remarked, "I'll let you win this time, boy." Laughter rippled through the crowd, and Zeff couldn't help but roll his eyes before retreating back into the kitchen.

With the excitement in the air slowly fading, you made your way over to Sanji, determined to have a private conversation with him. Grabbing him by the collar, you ushered him into your shared bedroom. The voices of Luffy, the others, and Zeff's crew murmured, "Oh, he's in trouble."

As you slammed the bedroom door shut, you finally turned to face Sanji. He sat on the bed with his back to you, seemingly avoiding your gaze. You attempted to call his name, hoping he would face you, but he remained unresponsive. Growing frustrated, you marched over to the bed and seized his face, forcing him to meet your eyes.

"Sanji, why the hell didn't you tell me about the cook-off, let alone that you'd lock yourself in the kitchen for almost two weeks?" you seethed, your voice laced with anger. It surprised you how furious you felt, but Sanji's continued silence only fueled your emotions, pushing aside any other feelings besides anger and rage.

"Fine, if that's how you want to play this, then I'll just leave. There's no point in trying to talk something out with someone who doesn't want to talk anyway!" you shouted in exasperation, rising from the bed and heading toward the door.

However, just as you were about to open it, Sanji's hands enveloped yours, and he gently pressed you against the door. You considered turning around to ask him what he wanted, but he seemed to have anticipated your question.

"I wasn't ignoring you on purpose, Mi Amor. You know I could never do that," he began, his voice filled with sincerity. "Remember when I told you I put a lot on the line for me to win today."

You couldn't quite grasp what he might have put on the line, especially something worth locking himself away for, but for now, you pushed that thought to the side.

"Yes, I remember; you posted it on one of the note on the door ," you retorted in a sassy tone, rolling your eyes at the memory. Sanji's hand slipped from yours at your remark, and he withdrew his touch from your back. It took a moment for your emotions to settle before you turned around to face him.

This time, Sanji was also facing you, and his expression was one of focused seriousness. In a moment that took you completely by surprise, he dropped to one knee, locking eyes with you. From behind his back, he produced a velvet box and extended it toward you.

"Well, Mi Amor, the truth is, I battled my father today to earn his blessing so I could ask you for your hand in marriage," he explained, his voice brimming with sincerity. "Of course, my father, being the obstinate man he is, said he'd never allow some 'worthless chef' like me to marry a girl like you, you know, because of his 'Zeff Pride.'"

"So, Mi Amor, now that I ask you this let me give it a shot," Sanji said, a radiant smile spreading across his face, "Mi Amor, Will you marry me?"

In that moment, all the lingering anger from before seemed to dissolve, leaving behind an overwhelming sense of pure happiness. Without hesitation, you leaped into Sanji's arms, capturing his lips in a deep, passionate kiss. When you finally pulled away, your eyes locked onto his, and you answered, "Yes, yes, of I marry you."

A shared sense of elation enveloped the two of you as you leaned in for another kiss, this one longer and more fervent than the first. When you eventually separated, the electric energy between you seemed to demand something more, after all, you finally had your beloved boyfriend back in your arms, and he had just given you the biggest shock of your life. There was only one thing left to do with all this newfound energy.

With determination, you pulled Sanji down onto the bed with you, locking him in a passionate kiss that seemed to stretch for an eternity. Only when your lungs felt like they were aflame did you finally break away, looking up at him with a playful yet seductive tone in your voice.

"You know, you owe me for leaving me all alone all this nights, needy and horny, with no one to turn to but myself," you purred, sending shivers down Sanji's spine. He gazed at you with lovesick eyes, but you weren't ready to give in to him just yet. You wanted him to feel the same neediness you had endured over these past few weeks.

"Yes, I know," Sanji admitted, his voice filled with longing?

"Yes, I know what?" you pressed, your lips tantalizingly close to his. As he tried to pull you in for a kiss, you halted him by placing your hand on his chest. "You heard me, 'yes, what?' I know what?" This time, your tone dripped with a venomous allure, eliciting a quick, submissive response from your love-struck partner.

"Yes, I know, Mommy~," Sanji whispered, and you rewarded him with a swift but savory kiss. Pulling away, you declared with satisfaction, "Good boy~."

☆ ☆ ☆ Smut Time ☆ ☆ ☆

“M’m, Mi Amor.. Please, hurry up and touch me ," he breathes out in a languid, seductive tone, his voice dripping with desire. The subtle quiver in his voice betrays the undeniable arousal building within him, evident by the tantalizing bulge that begins to take shape in his trousers. "Haven't even touched you yet, and you're already driving yourself crazy," you purr seductively, your voice dripping with confidence. With a teasing smirk, your hand glides sensually up and down his trousers, tantalizingly stroking his hardened cock through the fabric. As his eyes flutter closed, succumbing to the intoxicating pleasure, you revel in the power you hold over him. Finally, you sensually unbutton his pants, feeling the anticipation build as each button gives way to your touch. With a gentle tug, his pants gracefully glide down his legs, pooling at his ankles, revealing his desire. As you sensually caress him with your tongue, eliciting a soft moan of pleasure from his lips.

“Fuc-, PLease. I'm begging you, just touch me already," he whispers, his fingers lingering in anticipation as he shields his eyes with a seductive embrace. Finally, you sensually remove his boxers, liberating his throbbing com from its confines. His throbbing cock was a deep, sensuous shade of brown, glistening with the tantalizing percum. Not wasting any more time, you sensually began tracing a luscious path with your tongue along the velvety contours of his throbbing cock.

“PLease just keEp touching me Ther-…. just like that…”

“It feels so good…hngh…”

So consumed by your insatiable longing, you succumb to temptation and eagerly reclaim his throbbing cock between your lips, sensually caressing and pleasuring him with your skillful movements. Before long, his strong hands become entwined in your luscious locks, his tantalizing touch igniting a delicious shiver that cascades down your sensuous curves, causing a delightful moistness to blossom in the depths of your desire. "Shi- oh, hold on," he murmurs, his voice trembling as you trail a trail of tantalizing kisses along his throbbing cock.

Your tantalizing lips were sending him into a frenzy of desire. He struggled to restrain himself, but his efforts were futile as he succumbed to the overwhelming desire, releasing his hot load, cascading down your eager throat."Damn, why are you so unbelievably perfect?" Sanji moans, his voice laced with desire as he attempts to calm himself from the intoxicating pleasure. He pulls you closer, their lips meeting in a passionate, soul-stirring kiss, their bodies aflame with longing. In a hushed whisper, he confesses "Now it's your turn," you begin to feel a shiver run down your spine. You couldn't help but wonder what he had in store for you, but the anticipation only fueled your desire. His gaze, dark and intense, locked with yours, igniting a fire deep within. In that moment, you were willing to surrender yourself completely, ready to fulfill his every desire.

So, imagine yourself in a state of undress, sensually reclining on the bed, your legs enticingly parted. Sanji, now positioned between your inviting thighs, begins to grace your skin with delicate butterfly kisses, sending electrifying waves of pleasure coursing through your body, causing you to quiver with anticipation.You sensually positioned your legs upon his strong shoulders, tantalizingly inching yourself closer, your enticing derrière delicately poised on the edge of the bed. He couldn't resist the temptation, eagerly pressing his lips against your delicate folds, exploring them with a hunger that consumed him. You let out a breathless moan as the electrifying touch sent shivers down your spine. You couldn't resist the temptation to indulge him; he had been so sensually captivating up until this moment.

So when he gently caressed a digit into your passionate embrace, he delicately curved it, exploring for that tender spot within you that would ignite your deepest desires. Oh, my sweet, hushed moans escape my lips! You sensually arched your enticing derriere off the plush mattress, simultaneously enticingly withdrawing from and tantalizingly inching towards his electrifying caress. “Oh, Sanji, yes, just like that!” He then sensually slipped a second finger into your moist and eager cunt, while his tantalizing lips lavished attention on your throbbing clit. His liberated hand caressed the curvature of your enticing derrière, providing a firm support as you sensually undulated your hips, indulging in the electrifying pleasure of his tantalizing oral ministrations.

Holy Shii, I'm cumming, you sobbed as you struggled to free yourself from Sanji's long tongue, but he held on tighter, tightening his hold on your thighs. “ That’s right Mi Amor lose yourself on my fucking tongue," he whispered seductively, causing a shiver of anticipation to course through your body. Sanji let out a passionate moan as your essence enveloped his eager tongue. His wrist and lips throbbed with a delicious ache, but he dared not halt his tantalizing movements as you indulged in the intoxicating waves of pleasure, moaning and panting above him. When you were finally done, you sensually pressed your delicate foot against his shoulder, exerting a tantalizing amount of pressure as you gracefully pushed him away from your alluring body. He sensually collapsed onto his luscious derriere.

You shifted yourself to wear your hovering over his cock, slamming yourself down on him you both let a whimpering moan.

Soon after you place his hands down your waist making him hold you firmly as you steadied yourself. You slowly lifted yourself off his cock only leaving the tip inside before you thrust down on him slowly feeling as his cock sunk deep into your pussy. The steady penetration had you reeling. You needed to feel him, all of him. So you swirled around in his cock a more before you thrust yourself back down on his hard cock. You basked in the feeling of being so full, so complete. You lifted yourself completely off cock, leaving you cold and empty for a split second until you slammed his entire length back into you, repeating and repeating at an unwavering pace trying to slowly over stem yourself and him.

Finally, after observing his graceful rise, you beckon him with a seductive gaze, enticing him to crawl towards you with the allure of a smitten paramour. Gently, you observed as Sanji sensually made his way onto the bed, captivating your attention. However, your gaze couldn't resist the allure of his throbbing cock, already glistening with percum, despite his recent release. You succumbed to the allure of granting him mercy, tantalizing him with hours of playful teasing. But after seductively drawing him into a tantalizingly brief kiss, you sensually withdrew from his lips, your open mouth now leaving a trail of passionate kisses down his sculpted chest and tantalizingly toned abdomen, until your lips finally reached his throbbing, achingly engorged cock.

Each passionate thrust delved so deeply within you, igniting a pleasurable ache that resonated throughout your being. Immediately, the throbbing tip of his pulsating member discovered the depths of your most intimate core, relentlessly caressing your sensitive cervix with every forceful thrust that you eagerly reciprocated. Your seductive eyelids languidly descended, their weighty allure captivating the senses, while your eyes sensually embarked on a tantalizing journey, rolling back with an intoxicating rhythm, teasing the boundaries of ecstasy.

His passionate pursuit was so intense, every tantalizing collision of your hips against his pelvis sent electrifying waves of pleasure coursing through every fiber of your being. The intense pleasure of his skillful touch, as he passionately explored your most intimate depths, had ignited a fiery desire within you. Your senses were heightened, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge of surrender, ready to succumb to the overwhelming waves of ecstasy once more. He sensed it as well, as he unleashed a primal roar in reaction to the throbbing depths of your gummy wall.

He choked out because the sensation of you slamming yourself against him was too much for him to bear. "Fuck you feel so fucking good Mommy," he said."You enjoy these, don't you? Being used as a dirty plaything," you purred seductively, your gaze locked with his, never faltering in your rhythmic movements.

His hands found your hips and he effortlessly lifted you up and down on his cock, fucking himself with your pussy like that was the only thing that mattered. You moaned into him as you clenched around his cock, your limp body fully sir, coming to your feral desires. You started to shudder as your orgasm claimed you with a white-knuckled grip. You whined into Sanji's neck as it hit you with shock after shock, your vision going spotty while your cunt tightened around him.

Your heartbeat raced with a tantalizing thrill. As he sensually caressed your waist, his hands delved deeper, eagerly flipping you over. You sensually writhed, yearning to liberate yourself and reclaim your authority. However, as he firmly clasped your waist, his teeth sinking into your supple shoulder, it became evident that he had no intention of relinquishing control. So you surrender yourself completely, granting him the power to arrange you in any way he desires, igniting his primal hunger to satisfy his deepest desires. His tantalizingly firm hands sensually caressed your supple torso, tracing a path to your alluring back, as he effortlessly lifted you up, igniting a fiery desire within you, as he gracefully rocked back onto his knees. So you allow your delicate visage to caress his neck, the intoxicating scent of his essence enveloping your every sense.

He couldn't hold it any longer, and his cock jerked inside of you as he came. You were still getting hit with aftershocks of your own climax, your muscles bearing down to milk every drop of cum that he filled you with. He held you closer and he thrusted himself as far into you as he possibly could, instinctively trying to make sure as little seed would have the chance to leak out of you as possible.

You hold onto him as your euphoria gradually subsides. Once both of you mellow out, you share one more passionate kiss before snuggling up together. "Sanji, what if the others overheard us?" you inquire, a faint sheen of sweat on your brow. "Don't fret, Mi Amor," he reassures you, planting a tender kiss on your forehead and grinning. "I discreetly added a sleeping drug to everyone's meals," he reveals. You were about to respond but its momentarily stifled by Sanji's fingers gently pressed against your lips. "Don't think on that, just go to sleep, Mi Amor."

You dismiss your concerns with a casual shrug and hold onto Sanji even more tightly. With affection in your voice, you murmur, "Love you," as you begin to drift off into slumber. Sanji responds with a gentle kiss and whispers, "I love you more," just before he succumbs to sleep as well.

#x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #anime smut #18+ only #one piece #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #one piece alive action #one piece smut #sanji smut #sanji simp #spooktober #halloween #kinktober #writers on tumblr #fluff #munch munch #sanji x reader #straw hat sanji #monster trio

[vampirevatican]

Looking at saved photos of him...

pairing: om! brothers x reader

summary: the bros find you reacting to something on your phone. a huge smile, blushing, covering your mouth, or muttering things to yourself. they would've never guessed you were looking at them

note: whenever i see my fave boys, especially mammon, i think about how they'd react so i made this

Lucifer

remember. he is pride personified.

sure it's not an arrogant pride, more so stubborness

but!! in this case? oh yeah he knows he's hot shit and he couldn't be happier

funniest part is that the mfer usually has a smug and calm look on his face so when he's thinking about how you were just grinning over photos of him it doesn't really show to others

Mammon

he's boasting...

instantly in the HoL group chat he's going on and on about how he's better

how you ramble on and on over just looking at photos of him

he WILL NOT stfu about it... unless one of his stronger brothers makes him (lucifer or satan specifically)

would start sending you pictures of him at modeling jobs

Leviathan

oh he's flustered and confused

how could you blush over a smelly, bastard, gross otaku like him

and then he hears how sweetly you talk about him and he just gets more flustered and embarrassed

going over some of the pictures with him? maybe you'll build his confidence a bit

although im certain he'd still be fumbling his words and in awe at how you see him and love him

he's going to cherish this for a long time

Satan

he is his father's daughter son.

by that i mean to say that he's prideful about it but he's not focused on him and it being a natural fact like luci

and it's not bc out of all his brothers you're reacting like this about him like mamo or levi

nah this is him being better than lucifer. this is about you seeing him for him. this is about loving him from cute cat pics, rage and handsome

Asmodeus

it's worse than lucifer... mainly because he lives and breathes the reality that he is the most gorgeous thing in all the three realms

would constantly tease you over it

anytime you simply glance at him? "take a picture, darling. it'll last longer." (affectionate)

and me? personally? i'd wanna wipe the smirk off of his face

but for the folks who are in love with him?? you take multiple pictures instantly which he poses for ofc

you now receive every selfie he takes before he posts it on devilgram

Beelzebub

doesn't think much of it but is very happy about it

seeing you happy makes him happy, he's simple like that

at the same time he is very emotional intuitive, so he knows that when you swoon over the pictures it's more too it than his looks

hell the photos and your muttered words say it too, and he actually holds onto how sweet it all is

really makes his day that he's more than just brawn or someone who eats a lot to you...

he feels warm inside when you say he's your baby

Belphgor

he can look like he doesn't care, he can sound like it

but know for sure he's teasing you

and that teasing is the only way he can actually tell you he wants you to look at him more

being the baby, the seventh, and the least active/present brother he demands and needs the attention

might be sweet and smile at you more when you lock eyes, or just when he sees you... maybe even smiles in his sleep when hearing your voice or sensing your presence

i feel like he'd tease you if he catches you staring at him one day by saying "take a picture it'll last longer" (derogatory)

but please take pictures of him, he appreciates the attention

#omswd #obey me! swd #obey me x reader #om! lucifer #om! mammon #om! leviathan #om! satan #om! asmodeus #om! beelzebub #om! belphegor

[gatitties]

Dye it baby

─ Yandere!bonten x motherly!reader (Platonic)

─ Summary: a special day with your boys, a day of memories and torture

─ Warnings: obsession, metion of bullying, toxic behavior, blood, mention of torture, yandere stuff

Part one / Part two / Part three / Part five

How the first two parts have 1000 likes ??? thank you very much!! 🫶🏻

Lil edit: sorry @boycigs it's been so long i forgot i had to tag you 😭

You never knew how to measure quantities when cooking, because you didn't want to go short, you always ended up adding more ingredients than you should, which led you to make too much food, in this case, little strawberry cupcakes along with some other fruits.

You had time to do it on one of those rare days where you weren't being stifled by the presence of any Bonten executive, having you as their secretary made it easier for them to be accessible to you, but unfortunately they couldn't stop you from interacting with other people, more than anything because they also needed men to do their dirty work, men you seemed to talk to from time to time, which they didn't like.

For you, it was just small interactions, greetings, small talks with the guys who were hanging around, who came from missions or bodyguards who watched every corner in the barracks, nothing really important, you were just being nice like you would to anyone else, although most of them would only nod at your presence or words, they had already been threatened and knew the consequences.

But that didn't stop some clueless from enjoying your presence more than they would like, not to mention the fact that you want to distribute the leftover cupcakes among those men, they'd rather throw away your homemade food before those creeps could taste it, but they couldn't stop you, at least not most of the time.

You wanted to think that the disappearance of some people with whom you spoke or shared that leftover food was not your fault, after all, working with this type of criminal exposed you to many dangers, but you really did not know how far your boys could go for simply smiling at another person.

You put those thoughts aside, clutching the box full of cupcakes tightly, you reached the elevator in the main building, dialing the highest number, you waited patiently, humming the light music on hold, on your way out you simply walked a few more steps and knocked on the door already well known. It opened with a creak, as soon as you entered, being received by an arm hooking onto you in a loose hug, you smiled when you saw Mikey, anxious to see what you had prepared this time, despite not being his favorites, everything you did to he, would be a culinary work.

"By the way, today is dyeing day."

"Hmm? It is?"

You muttered at Rindou's words, noticing now, the boys who already had part of their natural color at the root of their hair, you shrugged smiling at the younger of the Haitani, nodding at his request, earning pitying glances from Kakucho, who was the only one who decided not to alter his original hair.

You approached him, rubbing his shoulders in a comforting way, trying not to let his kicked puppy look affect you, you offered him a smile that was enough to warm his heart, looking for a second at the expressions of his companions to silently boast of being the only one that received all your attention.

"Don't worry Kaku, I'll make sure that my next day off is just for you, we can make that recipe you told me about the other day, or visit some place you want."

The completely bitter and serious expressions of the others turned into small grimaces that were meant to be smiles as you turned to them, letting Takeomi lead the group out while you give a last silent wave to Kakucho, who simply nodded at your action, as soon as you were out of sight a frown on his face.

Kaku really hated 'dyeing days' because he was the only one not included in the bonding time with everyone, but then again he could always take advantage of it, just like now, he always got an extra day with you, and best of all It's just that it was just you and him, so he had your full attention.

Although he had to leave that for later, now, returning with the boys and you, you went out of the building to the crowded streets of Tokyo, everyone staying on the sidelines except Kokonoi, who was the only one who went with you to buy the hair dye, since the group itself would draw a lot of attention and he was the one handling the money, the others reluctantly agreed as he took your hand to guide you to the nearest store.

"Don't you want to dye your hair too?"

"I think not for now, my hair doesn't look so bad right?"

"Of course not! It's perfectly fine."

You laughed at how Koko was quick to make sure your hair was perfectly fine, knowing how delicate people your age could be because of the dreaded gray hair. You both walked out of there after choosing the appropriate colors for everyone, smiling at the packages you were holding in your hand.

It reminded you of your youth, you went through that stage too, you learned how to apply the dye on your own because going to a hairdresser would be a lot of work and much more expensive, although you stopped applying so many dyes to your hair because it started to get drier. When the boys discovered this —snooping through your old photos from your high school days— they asked you to apply the dye.

While everyone got used to being treated by a ridiculously expensive professional hairdresser, nothing could compare to taking advantage of this to spend more time with you, not to mention enjoying the feeling of being pampered by you, giving them a little scalp massage when you applied the dye to them, it was something that even the most experienced or expert hairdresser could not achieve.

"Who should be first?"

You all ended up in your house, because you continued to maintain that house even though the boys told you it wasn't necessary, but you hadn't spent most of your life working to buy this property and now just abandon it so abruptly, no, you weren't going through that, plus it was always like a refuge of your own peace of mind, although in the majority there was always someone who interrupted you on your day off.

You observed that everyone had impatient eyes, watching as you internally debated who should be the first to go through your majestic hands and head caresses, taking one last look at everyone you made up your mind once and for all.

"I guess we can start with Ran, since I'm going to take longer with him, you go after Rin, the rest of you shouldn't take that long so you can choose the order, oh, without any shouting or throwing knives."

You warned before taking the brothers to the bathroom, aware that the last time you told them to choose the order in which you were going to dye them they ended up fighting to see who would be the first to receive your attention. You started working with Ran, massaging his head while applying the dye, it took you half an hour to finish them both as they had two different colors, which complicated the process, luckily the others only had one color to choose from.

You weren't surprised that the next one to enter the bathroom was Mikey, after all he was the boss, and if the brothers had been lucky enough to go before him, it was only because it was your decision and he respected it. You took your time with him, knowing that he enjoyed more than anyone the reassurance that your fingers gave him, running over his skin in a firm but gentle way, it was refreshing for him, the only place where he could let his guard down and relax to the point where he almost falls asleep

The next one was Takeomi, he was the fastest since he only had a small part of his hair, that didn't mean that he didn't feel satisfied by the simple fact of being with you alone. He was followed by an impatient Sanzu, who was always very restless despite being with you, as if he were the rebellious and hyperactive son of the group, then Mochizuki entered and finally Kokonoi.

You sighed once you kicked Koko out of the bathroom, leaving you to relieve yourself while cleaning the dye stains left on your hands, you wet your face to cool off, feeling tired after a long day.

"Guys… can you tell me what the hell are you doing with my school album again? I thought I had hidden it…"

You stared blankly at the group of men who decided to deliberately ignore your words, one of the few times they did, more focused on gossiping about your past as a student.

"Who is it? You have many photos with this person."

Sanzu pointed, you approached to check who was, a smile tugging at your lips upon seeing that person, the boys silently stared at your expression, feeling an internal anger against the stranger despite not knowing anything about that person.

"That was my first couple, although we didn't end up very well."

"Why?"

"Cheated on me with someone else." you immediately noticed how the tension increased in the room, rushing to continue talking "Oh, but we were both very inexperienced, it was the first relationship for both of us and we had many ups and downs."

"Why would you keep the photos of this person? Seems useless."

"Mikey… that's rude, I keep them because it's a memory of my life, although I only keep the good times."

They continued to look at more photos —some embarrassing— and judge the people you had the closest contact with in the past, Takeomi making a mental list of the few names you inadvertently let slip as you remembered between laughs and blushes of embarrassment your adolescent adventures

Although there was someone who annoyed them more than anyone, a girl, an old classmate who decided to mess with you for something quite common in pubescence, pimples and early physical changes, her harassment was only verbal, small teasing so that her group of friends would laugh, luckily nothing physical happened, mostly because one day you decided to stand up to it and set the record straight, since teachers don't do much, you decided that sometimes taking control of the situation wasn't a bad idea.

The girl was embarrassed years later by her attitude towards you and apologized when you met her as an adult, you simply forgave her because she was not and would not be anyone important in your life, there was no point in hating her when you could just forget her.

But the boys did not like this at all, they heard from your own mouth ─because they begged you to tell them the whole story─ that many nights you cried, self-conscious about your appearance, forcing you to do things that were dangerous to your health, both mental and physical, you didn't go to extremes, but without a doubt that year was a bad time that you prefer to bury in the depths of your mind.

Oh boy, Bonten was going to dig up the shit for you to clear your conscience, rather his own under the guise of 'doing it for you', what better way to get over someone than to just wipe them off the face of the Earth? It's a pleasant job for them anyway, especially if they're people who had hurt their mother in some way. You may have taken it as a joke, but the idea of hunting down your former bad classmates, or teachers, were not empty words, it was a promise.

"Hello, Kakucho? Didn't we have an important meeting today?"

"Ah, we can always do without one or two, so don't worry, isn't it better to spend the day with me than listen to us talk for hours about business?"

"I suppose you're right, hearing about your companies is more boring than working as a cashier."

You smiled tightening Kaku's grip on your hand, leading you through a pretty garden full of different flowers, completely oblivious to the reasons why you hadn't been allowed to attend today's meeting. You let go of his hand when he had to take a call, seizing the moment alone you bent down to see a lovely red rose, touching the soft petals of it, going down to the stem just feeling a little prick.

"Ow, it has very sharp spines."

You muttered, a drop of blood falling onto the green grass, staining it slightly red, you immediately felt someone pull your shoulder back, meeting you with a worried look that caused you to laugh.

"Let's get you a doctor."

"Kaku, it's just a cut, some water and a band-aid will suffice."

"Oxygenated water, we don't know if more people have touched that."

"Okay big baby…"

As you spent the afternoon nonchalantly by Kakucho's side, the rest of the boys personally took it upon themselves to give proper torture to that girl who once messed with your appearance, all taking turns slowly draining her blood, letting her life slowly and painfully escaped from her body.

"This teach you not to mess with mom, you stupid bitch."

Sanzu smiled sickly, taking the last turn to finish at once, the others watching in silence, their faces, hands and clothes stained with fresh blood, feelings of pure hatred manifested with blows, stabs, cuts… it was the price to pay for messing with someone she shouldn't, and she had to accept it. Sanzu grabbed the trusty pistol from him, without thinking twice, drowning out the agonized screams that did not stop ringing for four full clock hours, the last drops of blood spattering the walls.

BONUS

"Where have you been? Arriving like this full of blood what the hell?"

Everyone ─except Kaku─ shrank from your angry gaze, ducking their heads like children scolded for doing something wrong, they already knew what they were up against when they arrived at your house completely covered in blood.

"Sorry mom."

They all answered in sync, avoiding your gaze at all costs so as not to feel worse, but they were too eager to see you after having disposed of yet another piece of garbage in the world.

"No 'sorry mom' do you know how difficult it is to get blood stains out of clothes? You're lucky I have my laundry hacks."

#yandere platonic bonten x reader #bonten x reader #reader insert #fem reader #motherly reader #xreader #yandere platonic #platonic reader #tokyo revenger x reader #yandere tokyo revengers #haitani brothers #rindou #rin #ran haitani #mochi #mochizuki #kaku #kakucho #mikey #sanzu #takeomi #kokonoi #old reader

[yanderecookierunkingdom]

Can you do wedding headcanons for the Dragons with there Y/N on the day they married separate or poly your choice

Pitaya Dragon Cookie, despite their bravado, was a nervous wreck. They had no clue about weddings or anything of the sort, so they had to enlist Hollyberry Cookie's help. (That's a story she tells after the vows about how they came barreling into the castle, practically in hysterics as they demanded to know "HOW DO YOU PLAN A WEDDING?!?!")

Lots of red and green for the theme, but you're the only one allowed to wear white. They do still have their sword, and they won't hesitate to pull it on any guests that dare to wear white.

Somehow, the vows and the reception go along without a hitch. It's when the berry juice comes out that everything starts going wild.

Ananas Dragon Cookie was nearly beat up by Pitaya Dragon Cookie when they made a joking remark about you being a part of the hoard now. Your partner nearly threw hands then and there while shouting about how you were, "my treasssure! N- *hic* No one getsss to have them other than me!!"

You have to deal with a very cuddly and lovey-dovey partner once they're drunk, but you wouldn't have it any other way. The day, by your standards, was absolutely perfect.

Longan Dragon Cookie is basically a harpy about the wedding. If nothing is perfect they will LOSE THEIR MIND.

Everything had to be in order. Everything has to be exactly the way it is. If it isn't, they will correct it themselves and give a harsh glare to whomever screwed it up.

The color theme is more muted colors, though you're the only one getting to wear an outfit the exact same shade as the gold they wear. Longan Dragon Cookie will not hesitate to have someone smote for wearing the color reserved for you only.

During the vows is when anyone can see the smile only they normally give you. They're finally together with their perfect partner, nothing can change that.

Dancing? Dancing.

It's overall a very calm and happy wedding! Everyone knows better than to upset Longan Dragon Cookie during this time.

Your wedding with Lotus Dragon Cookie has the best music, there's no doubt about it.

The shades of blue mix beautifully with green and purple, and yet your lover can't help but keep their eyes on you.

Lotus Dragon Cookie is going to be yours for the rest of time. They remember hearing your wish, for love and for companionship, and decided that just for a bit, they'd give it to you. They never thought they'd end up marrying you, but they don't mind one bit.

Their smile wavers just a bit as they see you walk up the aisle, but it's from happiness. They're the most noticeably emotional, with some tears pricking in their eyes. This is their wish come true, seeing you coming to marry them.

They absolutely play a song to you following the vows and the party beginning. They stayed up ages making it, and seeing your elated face makes it all worth it.

Ananas Dragon Cookie very nearly didn't invite the other dragons, but you managed to convince them. All it took was mentioning that they were the first to be wed, and look at their, their pride is through the roof and they're boasting over it.

You're definitely decked out in clothes that Ananas Dragon Cookie approved previously. While they love you immensely, only they get to see parts of your body some of those outfits would show off.

They're practically glowing with pride as you walk down the aisle. They just can't believe how lucky they are.

Ananas Dragon Cookie is always by your side afterward. Be it for dinner, dancing, speeches, anything. You're their shining jewel, and everyone needs to know who you willingly wed.

Expect lots of kisses afterwards.

#cookie run kingdom x reader #crk x reader #cookie run ovenbreak x reader #crob x reader #pitaya dragon cookie x reader #longan dragon cookie x reader #lotus dragon cookie x reader #ananas dragon cookie x reader #cosmos constellations #i didnt include lychee dragon cookie because of how they seem like a child to me. apologies

[niawritesbs]

Time Off

TF 1-4-1 X POC Reader John Price, Kyle Garrick, John MacTavish, Simon Riley x Reader A break, they needed a break. Laswell knows they need the time off instead of worrying about Makarov and Shepard so that's what she gives them. Only, they don't have anyone to go home to that is, before one of their teammates invites them over.

"Time off? So suddenly?" Seargent Soap voiced everyone's thoughts to Laswell. She had just updated them on the whereabouts of General Shepard and briefed them on what actions to take when the topic of Makarov came up when she brought up them taking some time off. It stunned them to silence when hearing her bring up the cold season and going home to whoever may be waiting and if not take some time to take care of themselves properly.

"Yes Seargent and that's not a request it's an order I like you all but I'm getting sick of seeing your faces so take the time off and enjoy yourselves. Dismissed." With that, she shooed them out of her office and they all stood outside the door wondering what the hell they'd do with this time off. Standing more off to the side than the others, Ghost looked over at you seeing you were the only one not in distress at the order.

"You don't seem to be in peril Seargent, you got plans when you head home?" It was a surprise hearing ghost ask you such a personal question. Although he has gotten comfortable with his team, it is rather odd of him to ask. The others got over their initial shock and looked over at you now suddenly curious as well. You let out a sigh before speaking.

"No, I don't, I'm heading home to an empty home just like the rest of you. If you guys are so struck by what to do then why not come with me for the break? It gives me a reason to use all the groceries that get replaced in my home every two months." In all honesty, you asked them not only to stop them from being lonely during their break but to also stop yourself from being lonely as well. Like them, there was no one waiting in your two-story home for you so why not spend the lonely days to come with people you've learned to call family?

You trust these four men with your life should that day come and they do as well. It would be a way to strengthen that already tight bond you all have together and it would give you a chance to boast about your impeccable cooking skills.

"Are you sure? This is your home we're talking about, you sure you want us to intrude like that?" Soap was a bit reluctant to the offer because while he was internally excited at it, the last thing he wanted to do was intrude. How cute.

With a nod of your head and some light reassurance, they all agreed to go and split up to get packed and meet up at 1400 (2:00 pm) to leave for the airport. Soon, you five were all set and on a plane to the state you lived in and on the road to your home.

Your home was two stories and quite modern, away from most of the town but close enough to get supplies when needed, and surprisingly once the owners who originally rented it to you passed, your rent was dropped by a lot and eventually sold to you completely.

Walking inside you took your shoes off and looked around the entrance hallway feeling so much nostalgia. The men behind you followed suit removing their shoes and following you inside your home staying suspiciously quiet. In reality, they were nervous being in your home, you had told them it had enough rooms and a pull-out bed for them all to sleep over but they were nervous nonetheless. You set your bag on the dining table before walking into the kitchen looking through the cabinets to see fresh groceries with a note from the carrier that they were recently restocked. You made a note to increase their pay at the start of the next year.

"You guys can get yourself settled in while I pull some things out for dinner. There's one room downstairs and three upstairs. I'll set up the pull-out bed for whoever claims that one but you can put your things in the two other rooms. " You were already pulling some things out of the fridge after washing your hands, while you were talking to them and when you finished you heard shuffling and small grunts of acknowledgment to your words as the four men did as told.

Gaz and Price chose the two rooms upstairs while Soap chose the couch bed leaving Ghost with the room downstairs. As they were settling in, they all took the time to look around but not pry too much. They saw that your home wasn't really what they expected. No pictures of friends or family, no personalization even when Price stepped into your room accidentally thinking it was the guest room. The only way he knew it was yours was the neatly folded underwear on your bed that seemed like it was gonna get packed but never made it. When he turned to leave he caught glimpse of a pocket-sized picture of you holding a newborn baby laying on the floor by the end of the bed. It's not something he would ever guess he would see especially if it was you. He closed the door and said nothing as he found the correct room and got himself settled in.

While you began cooking you took a break while things were heating up to put your things away in your own room.

"You guys should go shower while you're at it, it'll be a minute before I'm done cooking anyway so might as well, right?" And so the night went on.

You eventually finished your cooking and you along with the four ate. It was quiet and awkward but eventually, Soap popped a question and you soon fell into lively chatter, Ghost and soap falling into petty banter while Price entertained it and Gaz chuckled quietly to himself. You eventually pulled out some whiskey much to Ghost's dismay. "I drink Bourbon" He defensively said, though, you could see the amusement in his eyes. He had his Balaclava on but the black makeup was removed when he showered and he felt comfortable enough to show us that much. Not like you all hadn't seen his face before but the point is made.

When you all were done, Gaz being the sweetheart he was offered, no, told you he was going to clean up while you relaxed. "You've been on your feet since we came so I got it, go relax." You could feel your heart clench at his words.

Ever since you got recruited for 1-4-1, Gaz had been nothing but a sweetheart through and through, not to mention a heartthrob when he threw in his small compliments with a shy tone. Price wasn't as bad, but the captain wasn't shy when complimenting or downright flirting with you. It wasn't the overly obvious flirts nor did say it in front of people but, he was quite the charmer when he wanted to be.

Soap on the other hand didn't care who was around, if you did an amazing job on a particular mission or any mission at all, he would praise you till you told him to stop. He loves seeing the twinkle in your eyes or the pep in your step when you got praised for doing a good job. It made him feel good knowing you were happy from his words. Ghost wasn't one to be vocal, everyone in and out of the task force knew that. He wasn't one to just compliment and praise for any small thing but, when it came to you, he would find himself biting back the overwhelming feeling of pride he felt. Whenever you did something right even when you second-guessed yourself when you take out more than one person at a time. He finds himself grinning under his mask and petting your head lightly, chuckling to himself at the happy look you sprung onto your face at the act.

They all slowly began to love your reactions and you as a whole. They became protective even borderline possessive when Shepard ordered you to stay out of a mission while the others were told to go. "They are a part of this team, where we go, they go no questions asked about it, so if you want us to do this I suggest you make your changes from now." Stunned was General Shepard hearing Ghost speak up like that. You had only been on the team for a couple months so he didn't think they were gonna get attached so quickly, boy was he wrong.

Now here you all are, spread on the couches tipsy and happy, chuckling at Soap's slurred speaking not even understanding the lad as his accent gets heavier. Relaxed is a word none of you would associate yourselves with, especially in your line of work, but tonight? Warm, comfortable, and happy in each other's presence? I would say this is the most relaxed they've ever been.

With your head on Price's lap and your legs on Soap's, Ghost sitting on the floor near the couch, and Gaz on the single couch, they all stared at your resting face, dark skin glowing under the light of the fireplace lit rid the chill that came with the upcoming season. They watched in a comforting silence as you succumbed to sleep, pressing your cheek into the captain's thigh and mumbling a drunken goodnight. A fluttering feeling filled their chest, they didn't know what it was but all they knew was that if anything happened to you, it would be over for them.

A break. They all needed a break, even you.

#cod mwii #cod mw 2022 #john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghost x reader #soap x reader #price x reader #gaz x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john price x reader #fluff #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #cod mw 2

[cheegu3]

𝐉𝐉𝐊 - 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

genre > yandere, royal au, one-shot

pairing > prince!j.k x f.m reader

wc > 3.7k

warnings > yandere themes, murder, blood, sadism, asshole jk, inaccurate depictions of trials, mentions of rape, classism, corruption

summary > In the country where justice was the center of everything, things seemed a bit different when it came to the royal family. The prince had never been taken down before successfully, do you dare try although others have failed?

You stared up at the palace in front, stretching as far as your eyes could go and covering the sky above with its height. Perhaps its size was intentional; intimidating those that were contemplating going up the wide steps.

It could be the reason why many didn't dare do what you were about to do - demand a trial against a royal family member.

It could be the reason why many didn't dare do what you were about to do - demand a trial against a royal family member.

It could be the reason why many didn't dare do what you were about to do - demand a trial against a royal family member.

Your country took pride in being a just society. More justice is served here than any other land, they'd boast. If you demanded a trial, no matter how big or small the concern was, you'd be granted one as that was your right.

But even though the fair state made no exceptions for the royal family or anyone being upperclass or otherwise '' more important '' people - very few dared bring the royals to court.

It may be more because of the way that they are. Royals were usually charming, either loved or admired by the people. Although that was obtained by manipulation, it was a fact no one could argue.

The Jeon family were different from other royals however. They were honest in all of their feelings, wether they were good or bad ones. There was no room for sugarcoating and they were therefor pretty disliked but well respected.

A cold, almost sinister or dark aura seemed to follow them whenever any of their members were seen - even more so when they were together.

The king and queen had two sons, Jeon Jungkook and Jeon Wonwoo. Both had beautiful faces and tall physiques, fit for a prince. But the younger of the two brothers, seemed to be the worst.

He was a loose cannon in the family. Committing several crimes such as murder, arson, kidnapping, torture and genocide - rightfully earning him nicknames like '' the psycho prince '' or '' the dark knight''.

Since almost no commoner dared take the royal family to court - he was left to do whatever he wanted. The ones that had been brave enough to try it after they had gotten their loved ones murdered, all for some fun for the little prince, had lost every single time.

For being such a fair country in theory, it was far from it when it came to the court and the family. They were the ones ruling it, making the judgements very biased when it was a case against their own kind.

You had been at a handful of public trials before, and it was brutal. One time a poor man had tried taking on the Jeon Jungkook after he pillaged a town and murdered all the kids there.

And the psycho smiled right at him, confidence and arrogance radiating in his oddly innocent looking bambi eyes, a feature of stark contrast to his real personality.

No lawyer, and the prince still won in the end. That's how they work. Yet even for the more complex cases when they'd need one, they would hire a family friend and win anyway.

You knew all this as you walked the steps with your head held high. You knew it but you had lost everything to him, and you were going to make him pay, being the first to do so - even if it meant dying in the process. Because you had nothing to lose after all.

The grand doors swung open just as your hand hovered near the handle. A man in his 60s stepped out and gave you an empty look, his face void of any emotions.

He must be from the royal family

You mustered up a polite smile, trying to look composed, despite feeling anything but at that moment.

'' We're closed '' he muttered tight-lipped and glared at you.

'' I know, sir. But I will be quick '' you gave him another smile and batted your eyelashes, trying to feign an expression of innocence.

You weren't sure how you'd react if he rejected your judgement proposal. But you had a feeling you might lunge at him as rage had already started to form upon realising he was from the same family as the boy you hated the most.

He sighed deeply and swung the door open again, disappearing without looking back. You hurriedly ran after, almost getting hit by the door because of the force he swung it open with.

It had to be quick, and you couldn't irritate him further or else he'd reject you immediately.

'' Sit '' he beckoned towards a chair beneath the high table he was now standing at in his office.

'' I'd like to request a judgement '' you blurted out, as soon as you sunk down on the cushion.

'' For? ''

You hesitated for a moment, it was hard to believe you were actually going through with this. Some had been sentenced to death before doing exactly this, due to '' false accusations '', and that could very well be you soon.

'' Eh...the prince '' his eyebrows raised '' Sir '' you added, swallowing your anxiety.

'' Very well '' the man muttered, engrossed in some kind of book he had in front of him.

'' I'll schedule it. But I must ask, are you aware of how hard it is to win against the prince? ''

You furrowed your brows in surprise. Since he was a part of the prestigious family himself, he surely wouldn't admit to there being foul-play involved in the trials with the royal family, right? Or maybe he was trying to warn you subtly of not wasting their time, due to the slim chances of winning.

Either way, you nodded. The passion of hate burning within and making you appear confident. He only scoffed at your newfound confidence. It was laughable to him since he knew you'd lose, without a doubt - everyone did after all, why should you be any different?

'' Very well '' he said again, but this time with a slight sigh.

The man threw the paper towards your direction and you carefully picked it up into your hands. It was just a document stating that you had demanded a trial and the date it would take place, a week from now.

That's plenty of time to make a good case

Since you were poor, you couldn't afford a lawyer and the city didn't give out public defenders - everyone had to fend for themselves, which probably contributed to the royal family's win-streak.

Even the rich didn't dare take on the family. It was always those with nothing to lose that tried their luck, expecting the outcome to be different than those that tried it before, and you were no different.

'' Now, begone. I've got better things to do ''

'' Thank you '' you said and left, mind racing with all the arguments you could come up with.

*******

You didn't shy away from the piercing glares from the stands in front of you as you took in every word the judge was saying.

She had just introduced the case, what its circumstances were and the other judges behind her. You only quickly glanced at them, their matching features telling you that they were all part of the royal family.

That's all you needed to know to make the judgement that they would be very partial. But that didn't bother you because it was a public trial.

You had specifically asked for it, so you knew some people could still be on your side. Therefor you paid the stand with the commoners more attention as you gave them a polite smile.

'' Jeon Jungkook, please come up to the podium ''

Your eyes followed the crowd to find the young man in the middle of the royals' stand. He looked just as surprised as the rest. You almost rolled your eyes visibly at the realisation that the family loved theatrics and had probably refrained from mentioning who the accused was, until the very end - for the ultimate dramatical effect.

The prince still got on his feet and walked up to the podium as he was told, he only spared you a stoic look, signature of the Jeon's.

But you weren't scared, even as the male took his place next to you and towered over you; his narrowed eyes on you when you spoke.

'' I accuse the Jeon Jungkook of the murder of my father '' you hesitantly looked down at your notes, the next part was kind of an improvisation just to further add to the length of his imprisonment that you were hoping for.

'' And mass killing of the Village of the West, where I reside in ''

A few gasps erupted from the crowd and you could hear a chuckle to your right. All eyes were on you right now, and it was impossible to not feel it.

'' On the night of January 24th, the man next to me galloped in with his horse straight into my town. His men plundered the houses, and-'' you swallowed thickly, voice starting to shake from the memories of the screams ''-And raped them, while Jungkook did nothing to stop them. He was busy murdering the many innocent civilians for fun ''

The accused only hummed next to you, arrogance evident in his tone. But you refused to let it affect you - everything in your delivery had to be perfect, otherwise you'd lose this case and be sentenced to death like all the others.

'' I begged him '' you did as you had practiced, pressing the tears out as a pained expression overtook your features.

The prince watched you in awe, a slight sarcastic smirk on his face.

You were different from the others, weren't you?

'' I-I tried to stop him, but he didn't want to listen- '' you wiped the tears tactfully away from your stained face.

'' I could only watch as the blood ran out of his body, until it was cold. I held him until he took his last breath ''

You shook your head.

'' This country prides itself on its fairness. But what justice is it if the murderer of my father gets set free? Shouldn't he suffer, as I have suffered? ''

Your glossy eyes darted towards the commoners' stand, trying your best to beg without audibly saying it. Then they briefly brushed over the royal family's stand too, although they looked less sympathetic.

'' Do you have witnesses? '' the judge asked, looking rather bored by the whole thing, like she had better things to do.

'' Yes, ma'am '' you nodded, enthustiacally.

The doors' to the witnesses' quarters were opened and out came a shy looking boy, around the same age as you. Behind him was his father, following him closely while staring at the ground.

They took their place at the witnesses' stand and you let out a breath of relief, half expecting them to not show up as you had predicted the royal family of paying the witnesses off.

You smiled at them now, feeling more confident than ever that you'd win this case.

'' Where were you on the night of January 24th? '' you asked.

The father nudged the soon forward, urging him to speak.

'' Uh...I was at my home. In the Village of the South, ma'am ''

'' And, what did you see? ''

The boy's eyes seemed to flick momentarily towards the savage man next to you in fear. Maybe he was scared he would get targeted if he spoke out against Jungkook but you had already anticipated that, having watched many trials the prince had been in before - so you softly called out the boy's name again to get him to focus on you, an encouraging smile adorning your face.

'' I was on my way back from the Village of the West. I always go there to pick berries, and I heard a lot of screaming as I had turned my back towards the village. When I went back to investigate, I saw men dressed in royal clothing, plunging their swords into the civilians or entering the houses ''

The crowd murmured, and some shouted out in anger, claiming the boy was lying. You tried to catch his eyes again, drowning out the people and he seemed to understand, he gave you a sad smile while grimacing as the crowd got louder.

'' Are you sure of this? '' the judge said, after slamming her gavel to get the courtroom to be quiet.

'' Yes, and I'm not the only one '' he said, shuffling so his father could get up to the podium.

'' I met my son halfway as the screams could be heard all the way to our village. Us two and more, went in a group to investigate and we saw the same thing my son just described ''

He gestured towards the stand were two gentlemen got on their feet and confirmed they were a part of the group.

When they were seated again, the courtroom was eerily silent. The royals seemed to cast worried glances at each other while the commoners looked at the accused with disgust.

Despite feeling his eyes on you, trying to maybe persuade you with his charm and puppy-like eyes - you refused to look at him until the very end of the trial, when you'd hope he would be taken away.

You knew of his ways and his famous charm. That's how he got away with most things; pretty privilege to its finest.

'' The court will take a brief, five minute break '' the judge said.

You didn't fail to notice how her eyes said something unspoken to Jungkook, and not long after you saw how he disappeared somewhere along with her and his parents.

Those five minutes felt more like a few hours. In the meantime you tried to ignore the stares from the rest of the royal family, assessing you from head to toe.

But thankfully it didn't last too long, some doors to the side swung open exactly as five minutes had passed. You made the mistake of looking, at the judge and then at you opponent who smirked confidently at you.

He took his place next to you again and the judge went up to the front. An unreadable expression was on her face, one that sent unexplainable shivers down your spine.

'' The judgement has been finalised '' she announced.

The murmur from the crowed started again and you couldn't help but murmur to yourself as well. You felt a bit puzzled. Only you had presented your side, yet there was a verdict? This couldn't be good news.

You felt his eyes on you again as you bit the inside on your cheek, basically holding your breath while listening to the judge's next words carefully.

'' The court has found Jeon Jungkook guilty of the murder of Miss. y/n's father ''

You released a breath of relief, a disbelieved laugh slipping out.

'' He has been judged to serve two years in prison ''

You closed your eyes as the tears started streaming down your face and you prayed a thousand times, thanking whatever deity might be up there for their help in this historical moment.

Your hands gripped the corners of the stand while you kept sobbing when you were embraced by the goodhearted witnesses.

Raising your head, you looked at them, smiling while your vision was blurred with tears. It had all been possible thanks to them, because they had refused to be bribed by the royal family's money and had decided to stand by your side instead.

You thanked them as well. There were probably not enough good deeds you could do in this lifetime to repay them though. But you knew you would try your very best to do so; until your very last breath, you'd be at their service.

If there were any insults thrown your way, you didn't hear them. All you could think about was how your father would be so immensely proud of you.

You were escorted out of the court with your newfound friends by your side, and you of course failed to notice the pair of eyes following you all the way out.

There was only euphoria coursing through you, and it would probably remain that way for the rest of the day.

Your friends walked you all the way to your home and you said your goodbyes; promising to visit them early in the morning, eager to pay them back for their help.

You laid down in your bed and another laugh slipped past your lips as you stared lazily at the ceiling.

The best part was that this trial didn't just affect you - hopefully it gave thousands of other citizens the courage to rightfully take justice into their hands, having been servants of that filthy immoral family for so long.

This meant everything. You could already picture in your mind as the royal family was taken down by the public. Their power and members growing weaker as the years passed by, until they completely seized to exist.

Knock, Knock, Knock

You groaned and squirmed out of bed to go to the front door. Opening it, you were met with two unfamiliar faces. Two tall men dressed in suits, your eyes widened - royal suits.

You tried to slam the door shut but they were quicker, putting a foot down in between and forcing themselves inside.

There wasn't anywhere for you to run to, they closed the distance between you in mere seconds and your scream was muffled by the bag being forcefully put over your head.

You screamed silently again as several blows were delivered to your head, a lone tear sliding down your cheek before you passed out completely, engulfed in darkness.

*******

'' Y/n? ''

You fluttered your eyes open, being met with the cold stone floor. The world was tipped and it took some time for your eyes to adjust to the new room.

With the help of the man in front of you, you were now sat upright which made you get a good view of who it was.

'' Did you miss me? '' a childish like grin was plastered onto the handsome face of the man you had seen just about an hour ago in court, the prince.

'' Jungkook? '' you said, voice hoarse.

He hummed, turning his back on you.

At that moment, you didn't feel scared quite yet. It felt more like a sarcastic and humourless smile was about to escape from you, like - of course, of course this was bound to happen.

You had tried to take down the most powerful family of your country, all on your own and you really thought it would work?

Jungkook seemed to read your thoughts as he scoffed when he faced you again.

'' Regretting your choices now, huh? ''

You shook your head, biting your lip so hard blood almost showed. He smiled. A hand ruffling your hair caught you by surprise, making your eyes widen.

'' I bet you felt so happy in that moment, all proud '' he was up on his feet again, pacing with what appeared to be a dagger in his hands.

'' But things aren't as easy as you scums seem to think '' you struggled against the ropes on your wrists upon his insult, face growing hot.

'' It doesn't work like that '' the prince came closer now, crouching down and he pointed casually at you with his dagger as if it was only an index finger and not a murder weapon.

'' Did you really think that I- Jeon Jungkook, would go to prison because of some pathetic low life, like you? ''

He shook his head, looking nauseuous, as if the mere thought of such a thing happening made him want to empty his whole stomach on the stone floor beneath him.

You held the eye-contact he now initiated, confidently.

'' Did you actually think you stood a chance against me? '' he half-whispered, in a low tone.

His eyes looked like he wanted to tear you apart right then and there, and it was getting hard to stay so confident under his stare now.

'' I- '' but you bit your tongue, falling silent as you weren't sure what to say.

The prince laughed sardonically.

'' That's what I thought ''

The dagger was waved towards you again and you flinched without meaning to, your tough facade slowly breaking down as the reality of you being here locked up with the country's biggest psychopath finally dawned on you.

'' What do you want from me? Revenge? '' you managed to choke out.

His hands were nowhere near your throat yet it felt like he was suffocating you slowly with his eyes alone.

Jungkook briefly looked towards your red lips, licking his own while seemingly being in deep thought.

'' Revenge, yeah ''

'' Then kill me, quickly. I have nothing to lose ''

The prince had to stop himself from laughing out loud at your bold statement, he only grinned while his body shook from silent laughter.

'' No ''

'' What? '' your voice was shaky now, it sounded like you were on the verge of tears, which perhaps you were. You felt like you couldn't stand one more minute together with this psycho, and would rather quickly invite death now.

'' I said, no- '' his stern tone and icy glare made you flinch back, head hitting the wall behind you as he got closer yet again.

His hand reached up to caress the back of your head and you squirmed in his grasp uncomfortably.

'' The judge promised me I'd have you, as my...revenge '' a boyish grin replaced the glare he had worn just seconds ago.

Somehow you preferred the stoic look much more. You tried pushing yourself away from him but there was nowhere to go.

'' You tried to take me down but you failed, and they promised me you'd be mine in return '' Jungkook's hand pet your head now, almost as if he didn't see you as a human.

You wanted to die, sink through the ground in embarrassment - anything to escape his tainted hands touching you in any way.

'' I would never kill you, that would be an easy escape. Wouldn't it, darling? '' he hummed, head tilting as his graceful fingers found your jawline to force you to look at him now.

Those doe eyes, that looked so innocent and so sweet. But ones that had in reality been the last thing many had seen before he plunged that beautiful dagger he was twisting in his hands, into their flesh.

#yandere jungkook #yandere kpop #kpopidol #kpop boys #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop ff #jeon jungkook #kpop yandere #jungkook x reader #bts ffs #bts fantasy au #yandere bts #bts x reader

[hervoiceinthedark]

i was there when the goddess was killed.

it's true, i shouldn't have been, but when i heard the execution was happening so close, i was overcome by curiosity. i snuck to the outskirts of town, the small shack they built for this purpose.

no one knew why, but there were rumors.

"i heard it's 'cuz only the regency's best-trained can even look at it without melting," one of the rumors said.

"i thought it was because when it dies, it's going to burst into a ball of flame that burns everything around it!" went another.

no one could agree, except on this:

whatever the reason for the closed execution, the goddess was dangerous, evil, and it was for the good of all.

but i didn't know any better.

"none of you have even seen her," i kept saying. "how do they execute a goddess, anyways?"

they just told me i was a childish fool.

when i got there, i saw the shack was small and shoddily built, with no windows and no lock on the door. i guess they counted on people's trust in the regency, or their fear of the goddess.

i had neither. when i heard them coming, i hid in a tree and watched.

there were four of them, the witch-hunters, and her in the middle. they tromped down the path, talking loudly with each other, laughing boisterously. they didn't seem afraid, or apprehensive about what they were about to do.

and the goddess... seemed so small.

this was not like what we'd been told. she stumbled when pushed, her bare feet bloody and swollen. the bag over her head obscured her features, but she didn't struggle, or speak. her hands were bound, and she wore a rough dress; prisoner's garb.

i held my breath as they passed.

"get in there," one snarled, kicking the bound figure into the shack. i heard her gasp in pain as she fell, unable to catch herself.

the hunters entered, and the door closed. i couldn't quite make out their voices from my hiding place, so i climbed down to get closer.

the door was as cheap as the rest of the shack, and one of the boards had a large hole rotted into it. closing one eye, i peeked in.

"...some goddess," one of the hunters was saying. the rest laughed. they weren't looking at her, still collapsed on the dirty shack floor.

after exchanging boasts and making jokes, one reached down and yanked the hood off, and i saw her.

she looked so... human. so frail. but not scared, not in the slightest. in fact, she looked almost calm, gazing up at her captors as though they'd invited her to a tea party.

they quieted then, boisterousness curdling into awkwardness.

one of them cleared his throat. "any, any last words, fiend?" he tried to growl, gruffness belayed by his stutter.

"No," she said, and her voice rang in my ears, clearer than the bluest sky, as bright as the sun.

"I will speak, but these words will not be my last, despite this crude attempt to cut them short," she said.

the men looked at each other, seeming almost ashamed. "we—it's just our orders," he started to say, but the goddess turned her eyes to him, and he stopped.

"Do what you must, and face the consequences," she said. "Just know that in doing so, you end this reign of men like yourselves."

the hunters shuffled their feet, and didn't meet her eyes, or each others'.

eventually, one drew his sword, and the others followed suit.

without another word, they raised their weapons above their head.

"Now it's all up to you," the goddess said as the swords came down.

her eyes bored directly into mine, maintaining contact even as her head fell to the floor.

there was no blood. there was no sound.

as we all watched, the four hunters and the secret spectator, her body unspectacularly crumbled into dust, leaving nothing.

except... her final gaze, and words, were burned into my eyes and mind.

when the hunters, seeming disoriented, began to turn, i ran as fast as i could.

back at home, i locked the door, and put a chair up against it for good measure. the goddess's words continued to echo in my mind, and i couldn't shake the feeling that they really were meant for me.

and her eyes...

i gasped, wincing as a burst of pain shot through my head.

i stumbled over to my closet and fumbled around for my mirror. there was an intense pressure in my skull, like it was being squeezed from all sides. my eyes were watering, and i could barely see. my throat, too, burned as though i'd swallowed a live coal, and i coughed and coughed.

i pushed aside garments, choking and crying. the tears that dropped onto my skin burned where they landed, and brushing them off did nothing to stop the sensation.

by the time i finally found the hand mirror, a small, round thing that had cost me a fair deal, i could barely see.

i blinked the tears away, realizing as my vision cleared that there were streaks of bright crimson running down my cheeks. my mouth, too, was flecked with blood, and as i failed to contain another cough i watched it splatter the mirror.

and my eyes... all i could see were Hers.

Her eyes, overlaid on mine like in a dream, piercing through the pain that filled my skull. as i stared into the mirror, the crushing headache faded slowly, as did the burning in my throat.

Her words repeated in my head, louder and louder, swirling around the fog of my mind.

"it's all up to me now," i whispered, and it was not my voice.

[It's all up to Me now,] She repeated in my mind, and i tasted sweetness on my lips.

i cleaned up the mess i made, wiped the mirror, unblocked the door. by the time they came for me, i knew i would be long gone.

She was so weak, then. we hid for a long time, moving from place to place, binding our eyes and speaking as little as possible. we helped where we could, using Her words to help, to lessen hurt. every small thanks we were offered, every small offering in return grew Her strength.

these days, She barely needs me. i exist in the back of Her mind, scarcely aware of how She uses what is now Her body, and i would have it no other way.

i only hope that, should what i have offered not be enough, whoever She plants Herself in next grows to love Her as i do.

#microfiction #short fiction #a story #empty spaces #a witnessed execution #her voice in the dark

[verdemoun]

Kieran Duffy's childhood headcanons:

kieran was a rainbow baby. mammy duffy gave birth alone in an empty house with no medical care expecting him to be another stillbirth. when that tiny pale thing with dark hair started crying she wailed as loudly as he did while cradling him close

pappy duffy worked in the mines, specifically working with the pit ponies. he was v admired by his fellow miners for his ability to get the most skittish horses to settle and drag terrifyingly massive wagon loads out of the colliery. kieran's love of horses is inherited (read: they both had autism and a shared hyperfixation)

mammy duffy was feral animal levels of protective with her baby and would not let his father hold him until he had scrubbed his arms red washing off soot and grime from work.

kieran was actually born in the homeland but the second pappy duffy realized he had a baby, a tiny little son at that, he started working triple-shifts to afford tickets to america so he could have a chance at a better life than they had

kieran's nickname as a child was mousey. he was extremely shy, nervous and quiet around anyone except his parents who were both very open about how much they adored him. he had a very severe stutter and oftentimes only his parents understood what he was trying to say

as a child he got into the habit of playing hide and seek without actually telling anyone they were meant to be seeking. mammy duffy wanted to sew bells into his clothes so she could hear when he was running off. pappy duffy was always much better at finding him.

mammy duffy was the very image of an irish catholic immigrant mother. pappy duffy was v religious when they originally got married but after seeing so much horror and death in the mines he became a lot more apathetic towards the idea of God. she still dragged them all to church every single week

none of them could read

pappy duffy caught kieran kissing another stableboy where they worked and had to talk kieran down from a panic attack. he said that the second he was born they loved him unconditionally (as long as the boy he fancied was irish (he was)) and then proceeded to entertain him with stories of the dozens of men who had fancied him back in his mining days. boasted his son inherited his looks (he did not, kieran thankfully looked much more like his mother) kieran didn't want his mammy to know and pappy reluctantly agreed, though reminded him if he ever did want to tell her he would stand by his son if she said anything untoward

mammy duffy never became less protective of her baby boy and on one occasion beat a child she found picking on her son with a broom. while an upstanding figure of 19th century womanhood, mammy duffy was readily capable of murder if needed to protect her family

kieran got cholera as well when his parents were sick. his parents pushed through their own illness trying to nurse him and still thought they'd failed in their final moments. kieran woke up in bed being held by his parents' corpses. he buried them himself. the stable he'd been working at before their death threw him out because he'd been sick too (they soon died of cholera anyway)

#kieran duffy #pls talk to me about kieran duffy

[rivkadreamer]

Lonely Wanderer.

a/n: This took a little while, I kept going back and forth, I'm still trying to get a good hand at writing his personality. Anyways, enjoy your food.

Genre: Fluff, angst, Hurt/comfort(ish)

Warnings: Implied character death, not proof read

Summary: In which Wanderer muses how good it must be, this feeling called love.

Imagine Wanderer who's been longing for love for as long as he can remember.

Wanderer who different from what many people think, knows what is love and how to identify it.

He observed it as Kabukimono, in the way the father's of the blacksmith village carried their sons around their back, the way the mother's chastised their kids whenever they'd something dangerous, or in the way the uncle's would smuggle some sweets to their nieces behind the parents back, smiling sheepishly while petting their heads.

He envied it as Scaramouche. Envied the way groups of people would burst in laughter when they united after a tiring day of work, drinking away their hearts content. Envied the way people throw themselves in front of danger because of their companions, and in the way they would proudly boast about friendship, telling silly stories to each other about their mishaps as kids, laughing under their breaths while they teased each other.

And he craved it as Wanderer, in the way lovers would hold hands and walk together back home, in the way they'd whisper secrets into the night, promises with ardent devotion and smile knowingly at each other. Craved the way they'd kiss under the moonlight, hiding from everything else, and the world would be none the wiser.

He craved these connections in a way he would never admit, not even for himself. He wanted to experience it, if only for a moment. To have a taste of how it feels, even if this thought was a dangerous one for a being such as him.

And as he states his vain philosophy about how the sentiment is a hoax, as fake as the stars above, you are quick to raise an eyebrow, looking him dead in the eyes.

"And you really believe what you're saying? You don't really think that, do you?"

Wanderer does not know what caught him off guard first. Your voice or the fact that you seemingly could see right through him. It was the first time of many to come, where you stupefied him into utter silence. After a few minutes, Wanderer came back to reality to see you already staring at him, a knowing smirk on your face, as the face he was giving you made it clear that you caught him head handed on his petty little lies.

Damned be you.

Wanderer could feel himself physically recoil and turn around like a coward, spewing an insult he can't remember over his breath, then leave, running away from you.

Which brings him to the present moment, where he is once again running away from your stare as he is sitting his head on your lap. Only, this time he can't physically get out (that's what he tells you anyway, but you both know he could simply pull you away if Wanderer truly wished so).

"Hah, look into my eyes, you scaredy cat."

He couldn't, Wanderer had the impression he would go blind looking at you. So, so angel like you are, the rays of light shining upon you making you look completely ethereal on his eyes. Wanderer couldn't gaze upon you when you were this pretty. Not without losing some control of himself, anyways.

"The audacity to even utter those words. Do I have to remember you that you were the one who dragged me all the way over here?"

The small snort just bellow your breath, the way you covered your mouth to impede him to see the sure rapidly forming smile, everything you did was so lovely on his eyes.

"You and I know that if this was the case, I would've gone flying far away from you in some ditch quite a while ago."

"I just can't be bothered with you humans and your silly rituals. What is the point to come here and 'pass some time together' at all, if you won't even say anything?"

"You're not making any sense. Besides, it was you the one who said it was pathetic to make small talk just to fill up the silence."

The purple haired boy only clicked his tongue in faux distaste at that, his head moving to face you as soon as your hand cupped his cheek.

He didn't want to admit that he likes hearing you talk.

Wanderer knew exactly what the form of love was, having been chasing after it for so long, so desperately in all hundred of years he've been living on this cage masked as land. That's why he couldn't help but think, that as your soft lips touches his, you can only be love incarnate. That you're love itself.

He knows it, he feels it.

Felt in the way you called for his name, the name you gave to him. Felt in the way you'd kiss him so delicately, as if he would break, as if he was fragile. In the way you'd hold him under the warm beams of the sun, close to your chest, and let him hear your heartbeat. Or in the way you would brush off his hair out of his forehead, tracing imaginary letters and circles on his skin when you thought he was asleep. Felt the way you yearned for him, and he couldn't say it didn't felt like he was waiting for you his whole life.

But he was, even if he didn't know it before.

Because Wanderer craves love,

And you are love.

Therefore Wanderer craves you,

Wanderer loves you.

So he prays, for the first time. To any entity, to any god above. He prays and begs that you'd stay by his side just a little longer, just a little further. That your time with him wouldn't be over yet. He doesn't want this ephemeral moments with you to ever end. When he's with you, it feels like time is akin a butterfly with fluttering wings, something that can slip away from his grasp at any given time. It's wings so fragile, they can torn and break like glass cracking as soon as it hits the ground, quickly followed by it's own pieces scattering all over the place.

"Please." He pleads to no one in particular, holding your body close to his, grounding himself in the warmth that still emanates from your lying form, the fragile look on his clear amethyst eyes almost seems to be shivering, his voice betraying his emotions.

"Just a while longer. Just a bit more." He whispers reverently, feverishly trying to avoid the inevitable. If before he couldn't look at you up close because of how bright you were, now he can't rip his eyes away, trying to protect the trembling light between his fingertips.

"Don't go, never leave. Stay here, love."

[@rivkadreamer on Tumblr, please do not steal my works.]

#angst #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x y/n #wanderer x reader #genshin x you #fluff #genshin scara #scaramouche x reader #scara fluff #scaramouche #scara angst #hurt/comfort #hurt/angst #x reader #gn reader #scaramouche x y/n