#and I hope you are enjoying hunter x hunter! I was so scared to write certain things because I didn't want to accidentally spoil you

[wwooyology]

Blistering Heat | J.WY

「pairing」 : wooyoung x fem!reader 「word count」 : 3.7k

「synopsis」 : you started to notice changes in wooyoung's behavior, it was as if he was avoiding you entirely. he was going into a rut and kept trying to push you away, but you'd be dammed if you'd let him go through it alone.

「genre」 : hybrid!au, fox hybrid!wooyoung, human!reader, a small bit of fluff, smut (honestly just pure filth I'm ngl)

「warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, cussing, kissing, wooyoung goes into his rut (obvi.), clit play, unprotected sex, dom!wooyoung x sub!reader, big dick!wooyoung, rough and messy sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, messy makeout, petnames (baby, babydoll, sweetheart, pup...), biting/marking, licking, blood, slight degradation and praising, EXTREAM breeding, possessiveness, manhandling, dumbification, subspace mentioned, dirty talk, derogatory names (cocksleeve), knotting, creampie, slight cockwarming, reader does say no but only because of pleasure (everything is consensual!), hair pulling, choking, slight breath play, dacryphilia, begging, slight pain kink, forced orgasm, lmk if I missed anything!!

「notes」 : I may or may not have gone just a little stir-crazy with this one 🤓☝ I just started writing, and my fingers wouldn't stop... but here is an additional part for all of those who wanted another fic with fox hybrid!wooyoung!! I hope you enjoy lovelies!

You sat at the kitchen table with a warm cup of tea in your hands as you watched the doorway, a distant look in your eyes. Wooyoung had been acting weird for the past week. It started with him not wanting to be within a certain distance of you, to avoid you at all costs. He even stopped sleeping in the bedroom with you and would lock himself in the guest room without so much as a word. You had tried to talk to him and ask if there was anything wrong, but he would brush you off, saying he was fine.

It was some time after twelve that you saw him creep into the dining room, his fuzzy ears twitching as he looked around. As soon as his eyes met yours, he quickly averted his gaze, trying to push down the overwhelming heat that was building in his gut.

“There’s food on the stove.” You told him, trying to offer him a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Thanks.” Wooyoung felt horrible that he was treating you like this but he’s never dealt with a rut when he was around another person, much less a human or someone he loved dearly. He was worried that he would scare you off.

You let out a deep sigh when he disappeared through the kitchen door. You wanted to understand what was going on, but he was making it hard when he wouldn’t even speak more than two words to you. Setting your now lukewarm tea down on the table, you pulled your phone from the pocket of your cardigan. You were determined to determine what was going on, whether or not he’d tell you.

Wooyoung slipped past you once more with a bottle of water in his hand, his gaze filled with guilt when you wouldn’t even look up at him. Swallowing thickly, he walked out of the dining room and made his way back to the guest room, where he would lock himself in for the next few days.

Opening your phone you went to the first person that you could think of that might have the answers you’re looking for. Hitting the green button you placed the phone against your ear, listening to the rings. After the third ring you heard the line connect before her voice flowed through the speaker.

“Hello?” 

“Hey Leila, it’s y/n.” You greeted her with a smile; it had been a while since you’d heard her voice.

“Y/n! How are you?” Leila asked, a chirp in her voice as you heard her rustling from the other side of the phone.

“I’m… okay. I actually had a question.”

“Is everything okay? It’s not the hunters again, is it?” She asked a sense of urgency in her tone to which you quickly reassured her that it wasn’t the hunters, that they hadn’t shown their faces in a while.

“It’s actually Wooyoung.” You started to explain to her everything that had been happening for the last week, and by the time you were done, she had let out a short burst of giggles. Confused, your eyebrows scrunched together, “What’s so funny? I’m actually worried something might be wrong, and I want to help.”

“Babe… he’s starting his rut.” Her words left you stunned because why hadn’t that crossed your mind? But what stunned you even more were the new few words that left her lips, “If you really want to help, the best you can do is offer yourself to him.”

–

Later that night, after getting out of the shower, you walked into your room with your towel wrapped tightly around your body. Just as you were about to grab your shirt, you heard a loud bang from the other room. Panic filled your veins, and you completely forgot about your clothes and darted out of your room. 

“Wooyoung, are you okay?” Your voice shook as you knocked rapidly on the guest bedroom door, but there was no response. Listening carefully, you could hear his labored breathing from the other side, which only caused you to worry even more. “Wooyoung, open the door.”

“Go away, y/n.” His voice was stern, but you could still hear the pain underneath. He had to have been fighting this off for a while now and it made you feel guilty that you didn’t notice before.

“I just wanna help Woo.” Your tone softened as you wrapped your fingers around the doorknob, but you knew right away it was locked when it wouldn’t budge.

“You can’t help me; just go back to– ugh!” He was cut off by a groan, and you acted quickly, rushing back to your room to grab the spare key before going back to the door.

“Stop being so stubborn, and let me help!” You scold the boy through the door as you knock, wanting to give him a chance to open it himself before you barged in. However, he didn’t give you a response, but you could hear his low growls. “You have three seconds to open this door before I open it myself.” You tried to sound authoritative, but there was still a slight tremor in your voice from the worry that was digging its claws into your spine.

You heard him grumble something from inside the room but couldn’t quite make it out. Giving him a few more moments, you started to insert the key into the keyhole.

“One.”

“Stop, y/n, I don’t want to hurt you.” You could hear the pain in his voice before the sound of another crash was heard, causing you to jump.

“You’re not going to hurt me, Woo. I trust you.” There was a softness in your tone that lured the fox to the door, his hand resting on the doorknob as he fought his inner turmoil. What if he really did hurt you? Would you forgive him? What if he scared you away? He didn’t think he would be able to live with himself if he did, but– “Please, Wooyoung.”

At the pleading tone in your voice, the last bit of his willpower faded away, and he unlocked the door before tearing it open.

A gasp fell from your lips when he appeared in front of you. His raven hair was a mess, and his ears sat flat on his head as if he were awaiting your lecture. His eyes were trained on your face, a small scowl resting upon his features, but despite all of that, you reached forward, cupping his cheek in your hand.

“God, you’re burning up.” Your voice was soft, your thumb brushing under the skin of his eye. Wooyoung closed his eyes, a low purr emitting from his throat from your touch. Until another sudden wave of heat rushed over his body, and he doubled over. 

You cried out his name before rushing to his side, worried that this might just be something more than his rut. Yet when he raised his head, you almost had to step back from the borderline predatory gleam in his eyes. That was also when he noticed that you were in nothing but a plain white towel that barely reached mid-thigh. 

Inhaling deeply, you moved closer to him as he rose back up, his eyes never leaving your form. With shaky hands, you reached down for his hand before bringing it up to your neck. Wooyoung’s pupils dilated as he felt your quickened pulse under his fingertips, almost salivating at the thought of biting into your skin. Marking you officially as his and his alone.

“I want to help Youngie.” The slight whine in your tone caused him to let out a low growl before his fingers wrapped around the delicate skin of your neck, pulling you closer to him. A choked whimper fell from your lips as you looked up at him, fingers lazily wrapping around his wrist but making no move to pull him away.

His eyes searched yours for any sign of hesitation, but all he saw was unbridled lust and need. Leaning his head down just far enough to let his nose bump against yours, he spoke in a low, growly tone.

“Are you sure? Once I start, I won’t be able to stop. No matter how much you beg.” His words send a shiver down your spine. The simple thought of him being so lost in his animalistic pleasure to the point where he’s completely ruining you made your core ache.

You bring your face just centimeters away from his, looking deep into his hooded eyes, “Ruin me then, Woo.”

Those words were the straw that broke the camel's back. His lips surged forward, crashing into yours at a bruising speed. He was moving so quickly that you could barely keep up with him, even as he released your neck.

“Woo…” You breathed out as he snatched the towel from your body, letting the cool air of the room nip at your bare skin. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving sloppy kisses in his wake. His nose pressed right against your jugular as he inhaled deeply, fingers tracing the curves of your body until he got to your hip.

“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me, sweetheart.” He growled against your skin as he moved further down, cupping your bare heat in the palm of his hand. A small whimper fell from your lips as he parted your folds, tracing his fingertips along your slit before pressing down on your clit. “Oh, you’re already soaked, babydoll. Does the thought of me ravishing your body turn you on so much?” 

“Woo– fuck! Please.” You begged the fox, staring up at him with needy eyes, causing his dick to twitch in his pants, the last bit of his sanity slowly melting away.

Without so much as a word, he lifted your body from the ground before walking over to the bed and throwing you down onto the soft mattress. As soon as your back hit the mattress, Wooyoung was all over you, slotted right between your thighs. His lips traced every curve of your body, licking, nipping, and marking any part of your skin he could reach until you were withering underneath him.

“Youngie.” You whined, fingers threading through his soft locks until you met with the base of his ears. A low growl seeped from his throat as you gently tugged on one of his ears.

“I need to be in you, babydoll. I need to fuck your slutty little cunt until you’re filled to the brim with my seed. Until I’ve bred you properly.” His words came out in a low tone as he bit at your collarbone, slightly harder than before, nearly drawing blood. The sweet sound of your whimper went straight to his cock that was straining against his sweats.

His words left your mind spiraling. The thought of being so full of just him had your aching cunt clenching around nothing. A soft moan fell from your mouth as you pulled him back up to your swollen lips, sealing them with his in a hungry kiss.

“Yours.” You breathed out, eyes half-lidded as he pulled away, “All yours, Woo, please.”

It was then that the last bit of his sanity flew right out the window, his instincts fully taking over as he quite literally ripped his clothes from his body. Your aching cunt quivered at the sight of his throbbing cock, standing proudly against his lower stomach. 

“Gonna fuck you so good.” He growled as he took his cock into his hand, using his precum to slide up and down the length. “Everyone will know you’re mine. All mine.”

You barely had time to process what was happening as he grabbed your legs right behind your knees, pushing them up against your chest before you felt him probing at your entrance. A choked moan fell from your lips as he pushed into your needy cunt, his eyes watching as you swallowed his dick whole before he pulled back out.

“W-Woo–” You were cut off by a loud cry when he thrust back into you with an unimaginable force, nearly sending your mind into orbit.

“Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.” He repeated to word like a mantra as he fucked into your tight cunt, barely leaving you any room to breathe. He pressed down on your legs even more until you were damn near folded in half, the smooth tip of his cock pressing right against that spongy spot in your cunt with every thrust.

Tears were streaming down the sides of your face as you tried your best to keep up with his pace, fingers curled into the sheets. A broken mixture of curses and his name rolled off of your tongue, eyes rolling back as you become overtaken with pleasure.

“Your body was made just for me.” Wooyoung groaned, leaning down to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss, teeth clashing together as he continued to fuck into your tight hole. “Perfect for carrying my kits.”

You clenched around him as he spoke those dirty words against your lips, swallowing all of your pretty noises. His nails dug into your thighs until they broke the skin, a trail of crimson blood flowing down the side of your leg before dripping onto the sheets. The mixture of pain and pleasure suddenly had you toppling over the edge, your back arching off the bed as a loud moan tore through your throat.

A deep animalistic growl reverberated from Wooyoung’s chest as he fucked you through your high, but never slowing down. Stars danced across your vision as he seemed to pick up the pace, his thrust growing even more harsh.

“W-Wooyoung!” You nearly screamed when his lips latched onto your neck, teeth nipping at your skin. There was no way that you were going to come out of this without any bitemarks, but you weren’t really in the right state of mind to complain.

Your hands flew to his back as soon as he latched onto the junction of your neck, his canines sinking deep into your skin. A sharp cry fell from your lips at the stinging sensation before he withdrew his fang, licking over the wound. Your nails racked against the skin of his back, causing him to hiss, his hips stuttering just slightly but never losing rhythm.

When his low, throaty groans started to turn into high-pitched whimpers, you knew he was close, just needing a little more. Trailing your hand up his back, you ran your fingers through his hair before gently taking his ear into your palm.

“F-Fuck!” He moaned loudly in your ear as he came, shooting thick, hot streams of cum deep inside your walls, his pace slowing just a bit.

Your head fell back against the soft mattress, eyes fluttering shut as his lips continued to wander the skin of your neck and shoulder. You thought he would knot you like he always had before and would call it good, but when you felt him pull away without knotting, your eyes snapped open.

“You didn’t think I was done with you yet, did you?” His voice was deep as he cocked his head to the side, the blackness of his pupils nearly overtaking the whites of his eyes.

The air was knocked out of your lungs when he flipped your body effortlessly, laying you flat on your stomach. His hands were quick to find your hips, pulling them up until your back was arched the way he wanted.

“I still have so much more to give you, baby.” He chuckled darkly as he pressed his tip against your twitching hole, watching as you eagerly sucked him in. You buried your face into the sheets as he pushed into you with one sharp thrust, his tip pushing right against your cervix.

Tears stained the sheets underneath you as he relentlessly bullied his cock into your abused pussy, his hands tight on your hips. Muffled cries and moans were the only sounds that emitted from your body. Your cognitive function to form words flew right out the window.

“Such a good little cocksleeve,” He cooed, leaned down until his back was pressed against your chest, his lips finding the back of your shoulder. “Taking everything, I give you like a good girl.” The mixture of his derogatory names and praises made your body melt, and if it wasn’t for his hold, you would have surely fallen flat on the mattress.

“Y-Youngie!” You cried out, fat tears falling from your eyes as he continued his relentless pace until your whole body was shaking. “Cumming! ‘M cumming!” Your voice cracked as he fucked you through another orgasm, but once again, his ministrations never stopped, much less slowed down.

White spots started to cloud your mind when he stood up straight once again, using your hips as leverage to fuck into you. Choked sobs left your lips when your body fell into a state of overstimulation. Every nerve felt as if it were on fire.

Moving one hand from your hip, Wooyoung trailed it down the length of your spine before threading his fingers through your hair. With a harsh tug, he pulled your upper body off of the bed, eliciting a strangled moan from your parted lips.

“Look at you, babydoll, such a fucking mess on my cock. Is this what you wanted? Me to fuck you completely dumb? Until the only thought in your pretty little head was my cock? Hmm?” His harsh tone had you quivering in his hold, eyes squeezing shut as you felt another orgasm building up. Letting go of your hair, he grabbed your jaw harshly, turning your head until you were looking at him. “Answer me, pup.” He growled, lips brushing against yours as you whimpered in his hold.

“Y-Yes, I want you to fuck me stupid, Youngie.” You choked out before all the air was stolen from your lungs when his lips crashed into yours. His hand fell from your jaw down to your puffy clit causing your whole body to jolt. “No, no, no, stop Wooyoung! I feel weird.” You cried out as a different type of pressure built up in your lower gut, but he didn’t stop; if anything, your broken pleas only spurred him on.

White spots clouded your vision as that coil in your gut finally snapped, and your release gushed all over Wooyoung’s fingers and cock, even soaking the sheets below your body. It felt like your soul had been detached from your body as he continued to work you through your orgasm, coaxing more and more of your sweet release out of your body.

“Look at the mess you made, sweetheart,” His teasing tone rang in your ears as your head fell back on his shoulder, legs quivering underneath your weight. He moved his hand away from your throbbing clit, allowing you just a moment to breathe before that same hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing the soft flesh.

A choked sob tore through your parted lips as he pistoned his hips into yours mercilessly. Your brain felt like it was turning into mush from the overwhelming amount of pleasure. Wooyoung’s fingers tighten around your throat as he buries his face into the nape of your neck, inhaling your scent.

“You’re gonna look so pretty all swollen with my kits.” Wooyoung licked a stripe up the back of your neck, “such a perfect mommy.” He cooed as he nipped at your skin, feeling another orgasm of his own creeping up.

“W-Woo…” You whimpered in his hold, your head empty except for the thought of his cock buried deep in you until he was sure his seed would take.

“Gonna make sure everyone knows that you’re mine.” He growled before unexpectedly biting down on the nape of your neck as he came. The sudden infliction of pain pulled yet another orgasm from your spent body, your walls fluttering around his twitching cock, milking him for all he was worth.

Pulling away from your neck, he watched with proud eyes as his mark started to bleed, your sweet crimson blood coating his lips. Your mind was beginning to blank as you slowly came down from your high, only for that peace to quickly be ripped away from you when the fox hybrid pulled out of your cunt.

A small whine emitted from your body when he bent you over once again, pressing your face into the covers. Your jaw fell slack as he pushed his still rock-hard length back into your aching cunt, the mixture of yours and his cum making his movements more fluid.

“Oh, we’re not done yet, baby,” He chuckled darkly, pistoning his hips into yours. The brute force knocked all of the lungs from your body, and all you could do was lay there and take it. The only thought in your mind was Wooyoung’s cock and how painfully good it felt, nudging against your sweet spot.

Wooyoung didn’t stop until you filled to the brim before finally knotting you; the stretch had you cumming for the nth time that night. His arms wrapped around your body as he buried his face in your chest, inhaling your scent. A small pur reverberated from his chest as you ran your shaky fingers through his hair. The world finally felt like it was coming back to you as your body lay there, soaking in each other’s warmth as if you hadn’t been doing that for the past few hours.

“Thank you, baby,” His voice was low as he peppered kisses along the expanse of your chest before resting his chin right between your breasts. You hummed, still not fully trusting your voice, and he smirked before his fingers playfully crept up your side.

“W-Wooyoung!” You choked out his name at the ticklish feeling causing him to chuckle before groaning slightly when he felt that familiar heat bloom in his chest. Noticing the sudden change, you looked down at him in worry, your fingers curling around the nape of his neck. “How much longer will this last?”

Wooyoung took a moment to respond, trying to settle himself before he lost control. He then glanced back at you with worry and borderline guilt, “probably for the next week.”Your head fell back as your eyes fluttered shut, a small groan falling from your lips. This was going to be a long week, but you couldn’t complain. You did offer to help him after all, and by the looks of it, now that he had his hands on you, he wasn’t about to let go.

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

[green-alm0nd]

Love your writing so much! Can you please do some separate headcanons of the bad batch who get assigned a female!general who’s super sweet and a total scaredy cat? Because of this, they’re SUPER protective (and jealous) of their dear general, especially when it comes to other regs! And of course as time passes, they begin to develop a crush on her

Hello! Of course I can! :p

[The Bad Batch x Jedi!fem!reader (headcanons)]: "I could never choose to love another"

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Summary:

In which the Bad Batch member you're in love with falls for you too.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: protective Batch, jealousy, fluff, mild mentions of Crosshair having a panic attack, and that's pretty much it. Not proofread.

Enjoy!

A/N: Thank you <3 and I hope you enjoy your request!

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HUNTER:

When Hunter first heard of becoming a general's squadron, he couldn't believe it. He and his brothers had been rejected by the Republic (in general), and suddenly, someone wants five clones on their squad? Unbelievable.

However, Hunter knew you were different when you first showed up and tripped over your own Jedi robe, got up, smiled and extended a hand to him. There was something in your eyes that made you different from the rest of the Jedi.

The more time he spent with you, the more time he got to meet you. At first, it was the usual jokes to break the ice; usual, playful banter; calm nights talking to his brothers... That's when Hunter saw your sweet side. There's a point where he started calling you by your real name whenever you were alone.

He literally became your protector, keeping you out of trouble whenever he could, avoiding food cantina fights so that you wouldn't get hurt, etc. He knows you can defend yourself, but there was always something that made him protective over you and his brothers.

Another reason you gave Hunter to be more protective over you was the fact that you got scared pretty easy. And, cherry on top, whenever Hunter saw you with regs, he'd become jealous and probably try to get you away from the regs as much as possible.

He didn't make it super obvious, of course. Then, he realised he might have fallen for you. However, he knew it was unprofessional, so he'd keep it to himself.

Though, he could not hide the slight blush that came over his face whenever you teasingly brushed your fingers against his calloused hands.

ECHO:

Now, Echo was happy his squad assigned to a new general. Ever since Skako Minor, he felt like the Republic had done little to nothing to try make him feel normal again. However, he was insecure about his general seeing him and rejecting him in some way.

Nonetheless, he immediately fell for you when he saw your bright smile, as your eyes came in contact with his.

Unlike Hunter, who took a long time to realise he had fallen for someone, Echo had the love-at-first-sight type of problem and he swore he'd keep it to himself. It was unprofessional and you were his general.

He found it endearing to see how scared you were of basically everything: bugs, surprise hugs, animals... However, that did not stop him from blushing every time you jumped in surprise and held his shoulders for support.

He's definitely protective over you, but he knows you can handle things. He trusts you completely and knows you won't get in trouble. He's not possessive nor jealous in any way (he's too sweet to be possessive).

Yet, he still feels a bit jealous when you prefer talking to the regs and sometimes will try to make a friendly conversation so as to keep you with him.

Again, Echo knows what he's doing. He knows he shouldn't confess to a person that's a higher rank than him.

But, his face turns red when your hands rest on his waist for a few seconds.

WRECKER:

Let's all be honest, Wrecker does not care who you are, as long as you like hugs. Because Wrecker gives lots of those.

When he first saw you arm wrestling a reg and you won, this man was ready to spar with you for the rest of his life. You were also very nice and polite.

I reckon Wrecker laughs when you get scared. Though, he does become serious and protective when there's something truly menacing happening.

He will not be bothered to beat up any reg if they're disrespectful or just mean. You're one of his only friends besides his brothers, and he feels the need to protect you.

He found out he was probably in love with you because 1) He asked Tech, and 2) He felt something pleasant in his stomach whenever you laughed.

Wrecker won't hesitate to show his love for you: whether it's by hugging, congratulate you for anything you do, let you sleep with his tooka doll...This man is not ashamed of showing how much he loves you.

He knows he shouldn't date someone in the middle of the war, but he can't help but hug you from behind and wishing you good luck whenever you go on a mission that's not with them.

TECH:

At first, Tech did not care who you were. To him, you were just another Jedi general. He hadn't heard from you, so he thought you'd want Clone Force 99 for their strength and not their personality.

Tech didn't pay much attention to you at first. But, one day, he started rambling about hyperdrives and noticed you listening. You were paying full attention and he couldn't help but blush a little.

This smart clone will be a tad surprised at how much of a scaredy cat you are. Maybe, you'll receive a comment or two from Tech, though they are harmless.

This is one of the reasons why Tech became overprotective. He started placing you behind him whenever something -or someone dangerous would happen to be there.

And, around the regs, Tech will get into a verbal fight whether they're mean or not. He registers the feeling he feels as jealous, and he will try anything to get rid of it.

That's when he realises that jealousy is laced with having feelings for someone. And he figured it was you since he felt jealousy when you were with other regs.

Tech knows he's risking his and your position if anything happened between your two, so he'll stick to telling you how beautiful you are through flowers.

CROSSHAIR:

Like Tech, Crosshair doesn't care either about who you are. He figures you didn't want to be a general for Clone Force 99 and you'd probably run away out of fear when you saw them.

At the sight of you, he couldn't deny you were beautiful. And he was genuinely surprised at you kindness, making him slightly fond of you the more time you two spent together.

Time passed, and he hated you for making him feel weird stuff on his stomach, yet he admired your sweetness towards anyone you met. This made you naive, but also endearing.

Cross will mock you for being a scaredy cat, but in reality, he will become more protective of you. Whenever a reg approached you, he was right behind you. He will listen what you are talking about, and, if things went bad, he will immediately come out of the shadows to protect you.

When he realises he's fallen for you, he tries to deny it and refuse to accept him. But the way you smile, the way you fight, and the way you are in general will keep him grounded.

There's a point where he won't deny it, and give subtle touches or a gentle nudge whenever he's around you.

Crosshair does not give a damn about the rules and the order, but he knows you'd risk everything, so he keeps his hands to himself most of the time (besides when he's doing the things from the prior paragraph).

However, the annoying butterflies will appear again when you stand opposite him whenever he's having a panic attack and you help him.

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I hope you like it, anon :p

[yelenasdiary]

Sppoookkyy season request! I hope this sparks you some inspo or a eureka moment either way I love the way you write!!

Uhm. So Wanda/Natasha/Yelena is secretly vampire and decided to blend in the crowd but hey no worries! They are like not so into human blood and only drinks when necessary (gravely injured). However, it turns out hunters are also out there and they have an encounter, ending in a bloody fight but they manage to barely escape. Reader was on her way home when R saw someone laying on a sidewalk and thought it was over the top holloween gimmick! R then decided to come closer and was startled when she was suddenly on her back, someone on top of her, taking hostage their neck... R ended up nursing the vampire but they wouldn't want to part with R and decided to claim her as theirs.

I hope this is understandable! Hekhek

-👾💜

Eternity

Pairing: Vampire! Natasha Romanoff x GN! Reader

Summary: On your way home, you stumble across somebody injured, begging for help.

Angst

Warnings: Mentions of blood, Brief mentions of R’s depression, | 1.6K

AC: Thank you for sending this! I hope you enjoy! x 

October Special Masterlist 2024

A faint rustle and the crunch of leaves was all Natasha could hear as she hid in a tree above the hunters who had pierced her ice-cold skin. She watched as they checked in shrubs for any sign of her hiding, not once looking up at the tree line. Although tonight the red head was glad the moonlight was hidden by clouds. 

One arm wrapped around the thick trunk of the tree to keep her from falling, her other handheld the opened wound on her abdomen, they got her good. It took everything in her will power not to sink her teeth into the hunters, if she did, it would only give more reason for the people of Westview to fear her kind. 

“Craig, I think we lost it!” One of the hunters said in defeat. 

“Nah, I got it good, real good” Craig who was wearing a trucker’s hat replied. “It’s gotta be hiding somewhere, come on! Let’s keep pushing” he added to Natasha’s relief. She watched as the two hunters walked further away from her. She waited until she could no longer hear their voices before she carefully made her way back to the ground. 

With each step through the woods, the world blurred around her. The moon light guiding her to a quiet and lonely street as she greeted by the sights of streetlights. She felt the warmth of her blood slipping away, she cursed the hunter under her breath. The world blurred around her before her sight was black and her back hit the hard pavement of the sidewalk. 

Wrapped in a coat that matched your dog’s little coat, you turned the corner with her on a leash. A late-night stroll for the two of you after a long, busy day at work. Your home street was quiet, lit up pumpkins sat on neighbors porches followed by their Halloween decorations, it wasn’t unusual to see some of them going all out for the holiday. As you walked closer towards Anges’s house, you noticed something on the sidewalk. At first you chuckled lightly, “yeah, good idea Aggie, scaring the little ones with a fake dead body” you said to yourself, shaking your head.

As you got close you noticed the figures chest ever so slightly rising and falling, sending your unbothered feeling into great concern. You darted towards the figure, seeing a woman living on the ground with blood covering her left hand.

“Oh my god! Are you okay? Hello? Can you hear me?” You asked in a panic as you fell to your knees beside the unknown woman. She groaned lightly, pushing your hand away from touching her, “its okay, I’m here to help” you added before the woman’s complete stillness shattered and before you could move her eyes shot open. Her right hand taking your neck hostage as she pinned you to the ground in an almost supernatural flash. 

“Who are you?!” The woman demanded as fear filled your eyes. As you looked into her green eyes, you saw she was in more fear for her life than you were. “I’m Y/n, I.. I live three houses down; I can help you! Just please, don’t hurt me” you replied. Your poor dog barking over the top of your voice while her leash was still tangled around your wrist. 

With her body growing weaker and the pain becoming unbearable, you felt her grip on your neck begin to loosen. “I won’t hurt you” she rasped, finally letting go of your neck and moving off your waist. 

“You’re hurt, what happened?” You asked in curiosity while the woman tried her best to return to her feet, your dog still barking at the scene only adding to the red heads stress. “Yuki! Enough” you scolded. 

“Thank you” the woman with green eyes said as you got back on your feet. 

“You’re bleeding, please let me call somebody” you looked up at her, but she shook her head, “you said you live three houses down; do you have a first aid kit?” She asked. 

“Follow me” you instructed. 

You help the stranger to your house, allowing her to lay on your sofa while you fetch the first aid kit, a washcloth and a bow of warm water. Yuki now free from her leash sat on the floor besides the sofa, keeping close to the stranger she was unsure of. 

“This looks pretty bad, what happened?” You asked as you began to gently clean the wound from the blood surrounding it. 

“I just fell in the woods and a stick pierced me” she replied, not for a second did you believe her. “Well, it looks like you’ll need stitches” you said as you took a closer look at the wound. 

“I can’t go to the hospital” she informed you, wincing at the pain when you gently wiped a little blood too close to the opened wound. You would never do this for any stranger but something about the woman lying on your sofa told you that if you bandaged her up and sent her on her way, she might be in more danger. 

“You’re lucky I know how to stitch” you said as you ripped open a sterile gauze and applied some antiseptic to her wound. “Thank you” she complimented. 

“You’re welcome….” You paused, hinting for her to tell you her name. 

“Natasha”

“Natasha, it suits you” you smiled softly as you pressed the gauze against her wound. Natasha winced again, but she didn’t pull away.

----

The following days turned into a blur you nursed Natasha back to health. Making sure her wound wasn’t getting infected, you made her food which she would only pick at, you made sure she was warm and comfortable, but she was never warm. Small details about Natasha got you thinking late at night when you were in your own bed, wondering how she even got injured in the first place. 

You weren’t one to believe in witches’ tales but with recent town talk of two hunters claiming they encountered a real vampire only added to your suspicions. She was ice cold, her eyes piercing green, picking at her food, barely drinking anything you would provide her, but it was crazy to think you were nursing a vampire back to health. 

Although you had your concerns, you found yourself enjoying the small talk with her. She told her about her life, and you told her about yours. She saw the sadness in your eyes when you told her about your struggles with living alone and not knowing what more to life there was besides going to work, coming home and only having a small social life. No time for vacation, not enough money flow to build the dream house you have always dreamt about since a young child, you wish for a bigger life. 

As Natasha started to recover, you were hit with the thought of her leaving and how your house would soon become quiet once more, her green eyes never to be seen again, her laugh never to be heard. You thought you were crazy for feeling this form of attachment to the woman who still was somewhat a stranger in your home.

“Can I ask you something that maybe very invasive?” You asked. Natasha chuckled lightly, “depends on how invasive your question is” she replied. 

“Do you have somewhere to go? I mean, when you’re well…. do you have to go?” You asked, your eyes dropping to the glass of water on the coffee table in front of you. 

Natasha took a deep breath in, “you don’t want me around, trust me” she said. You looked up at her once more, “what if I do?” You replied. Nat shook her head, “I don’t think it would be wise for me to stay” 

“Why? Because you’re a vampire?” You asked, the words rushing out of your mouth without a second thought. Natasha’s eyes widened, “how d-did you know?” She questioned.

“You didn’t fall in the woods and get a stab wound like that from a stick, besides, I heard from talk in the town the other day. Some hunters boosting about encountering a vampire…at first I didn’t believe but you barely eat the food I make, you’re never warm and I’ve never seen anybody with eyes like yours” you explained. 

“You’re not scared?” Natasha wondered. 

“I think if you were to kill me…you would’ve already done that” 

Natasha smiled softly, “I wish I met you in pass life, not everybody is so calm and collected as you” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle, “I am not collected, look at my life…I’m like robot”

Natasha sat up slowly before she looked over at you once more, “I can give you eternity” she said softly. 

“W-what?”

“It’ll come at a cost but if you’re serious about what you’re thinking about, I can give you eternity. I can take you away from all this, you can do anything you wish, you’ll never have to feel like robot again” 

Her words took you by surprise, you looked over at Yuki who was peacefully sleeping in her bed on the floor. You were so tired of this stereotypical lifestyle, your parents no longer around, the friends you’ve made in Westview would surely miss you, but would it be so bad to finally break free and life a different life? Is it selfish to place your life into the hands of a woman you only met a couple of weeks ago? 

“This crazy but I really, really don’t want you to leave” you said, breaking the silence. 

“And I don’t want to go” Natasha said softly, gently taking your hand in hers. You ignored the coldness of her touch, feeling nothing but warmth just being around her. “I’ve claimed many things in my life, but this…if you choose to do this, know that I will protect you with everything I have” she adds. 

“Then I am yours” you said, feeling the unknown future rush through you. Natasha smiled softly, “this will only hurt for a moment” she whispered before gently pulling you closer.

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[simplyraeblue]

King and Captive

(Hunter and Hunted Spin-Off) read here

a chance meeting with Sukuna quickly turns into a nightly routine you can't escape. as the lines between game and something more blur, you start to wonder—how long can you keep playing, or will Sukuna make you his next conquest? !Sukuna x !femreader

chapter warnings/tags: swearing, drinking, use of "princess", not much of anything this part tbh. eventual smut warning tho of course ( • ᴗ - ) A/N: THE SPIN OFF IS FINALLY HERE! of course, because I'm obsessive I've already written 3 full parts... I suck at writing beginnings though, so bear with me as things are a lil slow in my opinion! I hope you all enjoy it as much as you enjoyed Hunter and Hunted; and be prepared for MORE smut cause its SUKUNA OF COURSE.

index part one | part two

part one word count: 2,762

Christmas had come and gone, and you had stepped into the new year with an even angrier outlook on life than you’d had before. sure, last year had been rough; you’d been cheated on and promptly dumped for someone else, and the bittersweet icing on the cake was when you found out your ex had gotten engaged over the holiday season. you’d done what any sane person would do – drank away your feelings.

the past few weeks, your friends could often find you at the bottom of a mug, angry eyes watching as you toyed with the coaster at any bar you’d walked into. you need – no, wanted – vengeance. you imagined the look on your ex’s face if you ran into him with another, maybe hotter, guy on your arm. men these days were only looking to get their dicks wet, how hard could it be to snag one?

you came to realize it was incredibly hard.

any man that gave you the time of day seemed to be scraping the bottom of the barrel, consistently sleezy and looking like they hadn’t showered in days. or worse, still lived in their mother’s basement. the men you worked with were no better. constantly watching your ass as you walked by, attempting to slyly cop a feel in the break room, and so on.

so, here you were, walking down the street to a pub around the corner from your job to grab a drink. you had a one-track mind for this sort of thing, oblivious to your surroundings until two men stepped into your path to stop you.

“excuse me.” you muttered as you took a step to the side, trying to go around them. before you could get back to your mission one of their hands reached out and snagged your wrist. ugh, more disgusting pigs. “I’ll ask you once to kindly let go off me.”

“c’mon pretty, we just wanna talk t’ ya.” the bigger, burlier one gave you a sly grin that made your skin crawl.

“yea, walking around with a skirt that short we couldn’t help but notice ya.” the one holding your wrist tightened his grip slightly. your frown stretched down your face as you took a moment to assess the situation. what was it your friends always said? right – be loud, draw attention, scream fire and whatnot.

“oi, get your fucking hands off me!” you shouted, tugging your wrist against the firm hold.

“what do ya expect when ya dress like a whore?” one of them snapped as they stepped closer. you were only dressed for work; skirt that came down mid-thigh, button up blouse that covered every inch of your skin, so how was this outfit whorish?

“she’s got a mouth on her, huh?” they nudged each other as you struggled to get free. with your free hand, you made a fist and pulled it back. you wouldn’t be able to seriously injure them, that was for sure, but you could at least distract and get away.

“I said leave me the hell alone, twatbags!” you shouted, fist shaking but staying firm in a pulled-back position. if they made one more move, you’d muster up the courage and hit one of them.

suddenly, both men went wide-eyed in front of you and your wrist was released from it’s prison. hah, so my scare tactics worked, you thought. you’d have to pat yourself on the back later for this achievement. “aw, little ole me got you boys scared? looks like you’re about to wet your pants.” you smirked, crossing your arms in triumph.

until their eyes traveled from you, to over your head.

“these guys bothering you?”

your body tensed at the deep, baritone voice from behind you. so that’s what had the men backing off – but that scared? whoever was behind you had to be huge, like a wrestler or something. you imagine big, bulging muscles and a towering figure, and you gulped.

“I believe she asked you to leave her alone.” whoever was behind you continued, and with each word you almost shivered. his voice exuded strength, even something like anger laced in his tone. or was it just annoyance? “oh, forgot to add the twatbags part. that was a good descriptor.”

the two men stepped back and the other man stepped forward, now standing slightly in front of you. you dared to scan his figure – not a body builder, but definitely not small. he wore a black compression tee that showed off his muscles, and you could see the tattoos running all across his skin, intertwined and connected everywhere you looked. your eyes caught on his light pink hair, slicked back but disheveled on the sides as if he’d been running a hand through the strands.

“while I’d love the entertainment of watching her take a swing at you, I don’t think you want to see what happens if you retaliated.” the man merely crossed his arms before looking down at you. he did in fact tower, maybe just over you but he was still above average height. something flickered in his eyes as they met yours, and you could only stare at him speechlessly.

he hadn’t even had to do anything before the men scoffed and walked away, albeit hurriedly like a fire had been lit under their asses. you and the man watched as they scurried down the sidewalk, and you finally let out a sigh when they disappeared from sight.

“thanks for that. although I’m pretty sure I had it covered.” you felt him look at you as you watched the distance – double checking that they were in fact gone before you left the protection of the stranger.

he chuckled lowly as he shook his head. “looks like you did. but, I thought I’d provide backup just in case.”

but before he could continue, you were already walking away in the opposite direction of the two men. all you had wanted was a damn drink, and by god you were going to get one.

you could hear the faint echo of footsteps behind you, but you tried to push it out of your mind, focusing instead on the door to the bar in front of you. with a swift motion, you yanked it open, stepping inside and hoping to lose the stranger following you.

but when you heard those same footsteps following you in, your patience snapped. you turned around, irritation bubbling to the surface. “are you following me?” you demanded, locking eyes with the man who had been trailing behind you. “do I need to be worried about you too?”

he just chuckled, his casual demeanor only adding to your annoyance. “do you think I owe you something now?” you shot back, trying to keep your tone serious, though it was clear he didn’t take you seriously at all.

his laughter echoed in the small space; a mocking sound that only made your frustration grow. “actually,” he said, his voice steady, “I came back to finish the beer I left to save your ass.” he gestured nonchalantly at a knocked-over bar stool and the half-empty drink sitting nearby, the remnants of the drink he’d been enjoying before the whole mess began.

the heat of embarrassment crept up your neck as you processed his words. “oh.” you mumbled, feeling the awkwardness seep into your skin. "sorry. considering the kind of men I’ve just dealt with, I didn’t know if you were some sleazeball too.”

he raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “sleazeball? you sound like my little brother,” he said with a smirk, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

you couldn't help but throw a jab back. “then he has good taste in vocabulary.”

the man’s grin only grew wider, clearly amused by the bite in your tone. his eyes glinted with something like genuine entertainment as he took a step closer. “my name’s Ryomen Sukuna, by the way,” he said, his voice dripping with casual confidence.

you narrowed your eyes, studying him with suspicion. there was something about the way he carried himself that set your nerves on edge. “I don’t know if I’m comfortable giving my full name to a complete stranger,” you replied, your tone a mix of caution and defiance.

Sukuna simply shrugged, as though your response didn’t faze him in the least. “but I just introduced myself, after acting as your knight in shining armor, I might add.” he gave a lazy stretch, his posture relaxed as he leaned against the bar, his gaze fixed on you as if daring you to challenge him further.

you didn’t back down. “that doesn’t mean I know you now,” you said, your eyes still narrowed. you turned away from him, flagging down the bartender who had just started to clean the counter. “a drink. whiskey, neat,” you said, your voice firm as you slid a few bills across the bar.

normally, you wouldn’t dare drink hard liquor on a weekday at five o’clock, but goddamn you needed it now. your nerves were on edge, but a stronger feeling had settled within you since the start of this particular conversation.

he was unbelievably attractive. pierced ears, tattooed skin, and a smile reminiscent of the devil across his lips. so so not your usual type. but then again, your type had cheated on you. Sukuna’s presence was almost overwhelming – strength, confidence or cockiness – the air stilled around him like it was intruding his space.

Sukuna watched you with a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “then get to know me,” he said, his voice low and almost coaxing, as if the idea of you refusing was an amusing thought to him.

you didn’t hesitate in your response. “buy me a drink and I’ll consider it,” you shot back, your tone playful but laced with a challenge. you’d be damned if you’d make it that easy for him, knowing all to well the type of men that seem to flirt with you always turn out to be disgusting.

he raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by your boldness, but said nothing as the bartender set your drink down in front of you. it was clear you weren’t going to make things easy for him, but that only seemed to fuel his curiosity.

you were already fascinating him. from Sukuna’s first look at you, ready to stand your ground against two grown men, to now acting defiant against him even as he could see the tension in your shoulders with every sentence you spoke. were you feigning confidence or was it real? he liked the way you talked back to him; it made the conversation more entertaining, and he eased into it with pleasure.

Sukuna’s eyes never left you as you took your drink from the bartender, the smooth amber liquid catching the dim light of the bar. he didn't immediately respond, just leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, a thoughtful expression playing across his features. for a moment, you wondered if he was going to let the challenge slide.

then, to your surprise, he pushed off the bar with a slow, deliberate movement and took a step toward you. his presence felt heavier now, more intense. heat rolled off of him and over you, his cologne drowned your senses. “a drink, huh?” he mused, his voice taking on a playful edge, like he was toying with you. “that’s all it takes to get you to talk to me?”

you took a sip of your whiskey, cringing at the burn as you met his gaze head-on. “depends on the drink,” you replied, the hint of a smirk curling at your lips. you had no intention of giving in that quickly, not when he still felt like a puzzle you weren’t sure you wanted to solve.

Sukuna chuckled softly, the sound deep and almost predatory, like he was enjoying the chase. “I think I can handle that,” he said, raising a hand to signal the bartender. his attention briefly shifted to the man behind the counter, but when it returned to you, his expression had softened, just a fraction, though the amusement never fully left his eyes. “is whiskey your usual, then?” he asked, his tone suddenly more casual, almost conversational.

you tilted your head, considering him for a moment. “I’m not sure it’s the drink I’m worried about,” you said, leaning in just slightly, your voice quieter now. “it’s the company.”

he gave you a look that said he wasn’t fazed by your words, not in the slightest. "trust me," he replied smoothly, "I’m better company than most people you'd find in this place."

he wasn't wrong. there was something undeniably magnetic about him, an energy that drew you in despite your better judgment. you could sense there was more to him than what he was showing, and a part of you couldn’t help but wonder what he was really after.

the bartender placed a fresh drink in front of Sukuna — a glass of something darker, likely whiskey as well, and more expensive than the one you had just ordered. Sukuna didn’t touch it immediately, instead shifting his stance so he was fully facing you, his eyes now narrowing just slightly, as if sizing you up. like you were a snack he wanted to take a bite out of.

"alright, I’ll bite," he said, his voice a low murmur as he watched you closely. “what’s your story?”

you took another sip of your drink, your gaze never leaving his. “maybe I’ll tell you,” you said slowly, deliberately, “but it’s going to cost you more than just a drink.”

Sukuna’s lips curled into another half-smile, his confidence never wavering. “I’m up for the challenge. what’s the price?” his tone had shifted again, all business now, but there was still an edge of that playful intensity behind it.

for the briefest moment, you almost felt like you were playing a game with him, something neither of you had agreed on but that you both instinctively understood. you hesitated, eyes scanning his face for any hint of vulnerability — but there was none.

“get me another round, and we’ll talk,” you finally said, giving him a sly smile that matched the gleam in your eyes.

Sukuna didn’t need another word. he turned away, reaching for the glass, a quiet satisfaction in his movements. he knew the game was far from over, but there was no doubt in his mind that he’d be the one to win it.

you lifted your eyes to meet his, watching him with a mixture of curiosity and caution. he was still an enigma, his expression unreadable, his posture relaxed but with an edge that hinted at something more dangerous beneath.

“you’re a man of few words,” you observed, your voice playful but with an undercurrent of challenge. “or is it that you’re waiting for me to spill my life story?”

he raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by your attempt to provoke him. “I’ve got all the time in the world,” he replied smoothly, voice low and even. you could feel his eyes on you, studying you in a way that made you want to pull back, but also something else—a curiosity, maybe even an unspoken challenge.

you took another sip, avoiding his gaze for a moment. “and what’s in it for me?” you asked, your voice steady but carrying a hint of sarcasm. “why should I bother getting to know you?”

Sukuna’s smile deepened, almost like he was savoring the moment. “because,” he said, his voice now tinged with something a little darker, “I’m not just any stranger. and I think you’ll find out, sooner or later, that I’m worth your time.”

his confidence was almost infuriating, but you couldn’t deny that something about him intrigued you. maybe it was his audacity, or maybe it was the mystery that clung to him like a second skin. or possibly, that he could be the hottest man you’d ever laid eyes on. either way, you weren’t ready to walk away just yet.

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” you replied, a small challenge in your voice, but this time, there was a flicker of curiosity in your gaze too.

Sukuna met your challenge with a steady, unwavering stare, his smirk never fading. “then I guess you’ll just have to stick around and find out, won’t you?”

it wasn’t an offer. it wasn’t even a question. it was a promise. and whether you liked it or not, you were beginning to realize that you might just be caught up in his game—whether you wanted to be or not.

it wasn’t an offer, or even a question. it was a damn promise. whether you realized it, you were beginning to get caught up in his game – it was inevitable.

⊹. ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . taglist: @mangiswig @aldebrana @ravester @marie-is-in-the-dark @makingtimemine @sorahatake @osohchoso @csolya I tagged some people that interacted A TON with Hunter and Hunted who I appreciate so so much ; so if you were tagged and would like to be removed just let me know! ♡ I hope this fic is as loved as Hunter and Hunted! . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

[astracora]

Turning Point - Part 5

Characters: Poly!LADs x gn!mc

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, Angst, Loss of Arm, Lots of emotional struggle with disability, mentions for Rafayel stories, and myths, violent imagery and arguments.

Word Count: 5456

Written: 9th January 2025

Notes: Pre-relationship with gn!MC with all LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. Unnamed MC, but using my personal MC's basic appearance and adjusted backstory. I take some liberties with what the game offers me. Rafayel is so hard to write for a lot of reasons, but also is one of my favourite characters in any story because he's just... contains multitudes. I also feel like he's the one who struggles most with all these other people in MC's life. I also feel like he's so fixated on pain, and struggle, that he forgets kindness can be offered to him with no price. Anyway, I enjoyed working on this bit a lot even though it was hard. Enjoy! Also as a side note, the song of choice I can only partially explain, Rafayel out of all the boys makes me think of regency romance on a level I truly cannot explain. (even though he doesn't have a dancing scene... YET!!)

Now Playing: All I Want, by Kris Bowers

Masterlist AO3

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Rafayel loves you. That is never in doubt. He finds himself bitter and aching that there is so much you have shared that only he remembers.

Sometimes it comes out in harsh words or lies. Even though he knows it is unfair to punish you, when you can't control it.

Mostly, however, he tries to enjoy moments with you. Hoping that something will spark, and you will look at him and see long years of history.

Remember his longing and his love in all its forms.

Remember all the facets that make him up. Perhaps it's cowardice to want your memories to fill in the blanks that he is too scared to tell you. Blood on his hands, heart offered up. He does not want to see your expression change. For you to fear or hate who he is… who he can become.

He thinks about beautiful blue seas, and the breath stolen underwater.

When he finds himself thinking of the beach he waited at, every year, he pushes himself into his work.

Now, he spends most of his days at your side. In case you need him. He watches closely, because he's used to you hiding your struggle from him. When you're sick, you've hidden it, he's reminded you that you're not a superhero. As much as you put on a brave front for every kid that sees your hunter reels.

Rafayel has watched this version of you for a long time, before he finally met you again. Properly.

He has seen so many renditions of you, no matter who you have been… he has loved you. He has and will love you for eternity and beyond, even if it might be easier not to.

Rafayel has finished most of his work for his exhibit, as he stares at the final piece that is missing something that he cannot find.

Sun blends with sea, as the tides recede. As silver bones are left behind to bleach.

He stares and stares and nothing comes. Just that vague, irritating feeling of incompletion.

"You're going to burn a hole in it, fish."

"Sylus, leave the man alone, he's actually working."

Rafayel huffs… and therein lies his other problem. Your consortium of bizarre attachments. If he were less observant, he could pretend they see you as a friend only.

But he is a man who can kill another, who can plan his revenge, who can hide in plain sight. Who is capable of sneaking up even on the N109 Zone Leader.

So he can see and he can't ignore. He also can't ignore that they comfort you as well.

You have teased him for being childish, and he thinks the irritating feeling in his gut, that demands he steal all of your time, that you are his bonded partner, confirms such a claim. He is not possessive of a lot… your heart is his.

He tries to ignore the doctor and the crow. Staring straight ahead, hoping that answers will come to him, but he cannot. He can feel their presence and it is on the edge of his consciousness. Poking at it.

Like he is a crab on the beach and a child wants to watch his pincers clasp.

"Maybe you should take a walk, get some fresh air."

"Do you want the fish to suffocate, Doctor?"

"Truly, you are incapable of not prodding at others aren't you?"

He huffs this time, turning his face to look at the two. Zayne is typing on his laptop, barely looking up to converse, while Sylus is on his tablet, glasses on the end of his nose.

The two look eerily similar like this.

Rafayel tries not to compare the doctor to the crow, it's unflattering. At least the doctor can heal your wounds.

When he speaks though, his irritation comes out in the snippy tone he takes, "Your opinions are noted, dumb crow. Then swiftly discarded."

The man does that irritating little laugh he does, that is more a puff of air than a real laugh. Like it's too much effort to feel anything, and Rafayel wants to pluck his feathers.

How you can tolerate him, he'll never know.

At least the hunter is quiet…

Still, he wants to get out of here, they make it harder for him to think, and he can't make progress like this. So he stands, shrugging at them and heads towards the door, as he goes to make through he almost collides with you and Xavier returning from the hospital. He isn't surprised when you move out the way just in time, you're a hunter and your training has made you capable. Still as he greets you, you hesitate, before tugging at his shirt before he can leave.

He looks down, your hand holding onto the fabric, not tough enough to tear, but enough to halt his movements.

"Are you alright, Raffy?" 

It shouldn't surprise him that you notice the tick in his jaw, or the stress under his skin. It isn't the first time, and you've shown many times to have been able to pick out when his mood has dropped. You're observant as part of being a hunter, you're careful, you pay attention. You're smart.

You care.

About him, about his mood… about his life. His irritation settles, soothes at the edges, and his smile is easier, "I need some fresh air. Want to come with?"

You hesitate and he watches the fear enter your eyes. Wavering. You walk between the hospital and the apartment when you don't take Zayne's car, but that's the extent of your journeys. He wants to pull you by the hand… make you see the sea with him.

"Where are you going?"

"Whitesands."

It's far enough removed, very few people visit it, and he will get a walk somewhere familiar. Perhaps it's familiar enough for you to follow him.

He extends his hand, carefully, trying to keep the need from bubbling to the surface. If he could take you away far from here, he would. Take you to everything he's ever seen, so he can see it with new eyes. Yours.

Your hand stretches out, and your fingers tremble, before you finally take his, "Alright, if it's quiet." Your request is one he'll happily grant. Both of you alone, he can't think of a better way to spend his time.

The walk is kind to him, as they head towards Whitesand Bay, he gets to keep your hand in his, listen to the song of the world, and watch as your steps become lighter. You stop staring down at your arm and checking around you, eventually focusing on the sky and him.

As feet crunch on white sand, and approach the edge of tides. You let go of his hand to walk a little further out, and he watches. As you crouch, as you reach fingers to the water.

Rafayel paints everything he thinks is beautiful, tragic, or brings pain to his soul. You hurt him too, in ways he aches for. Like he is placing his hand in a burning flame, and holding it there, because the longer he holds it, the closer he gets to what he craves.

Like there is an answer there, waiting over the edge of agony. If he tumbles after it, he'll find what eludes him.

There's a feeling in him that wants to drown you with him. He could swim out, with you in his arms, and pull you under. On the edge of the question of life, before he gives you the means to breathe alongside him. He's warned you of the nature of sirens, and you've looked him in the eye and told him you don't fear him.

You should, though, he knows. You should fear the ocean's grasp as well as his own, because he wants your heart for his.

As you turn your eyes back to him, soft smile tugging the scar on your face, his heart thunders and then stills. Flames and agony. The need to touch and hold it in his hand… Lit against the contours of your face, and the glimmer in your eyes.

His inspiration is always closer than he thinks.

—-----

Rafayel dislikes your companions.

The prince gets to spend all of his time with you, working together, protecting each other. Where Rafayel had to convince you to be his bodyguard, just for a fraction of that time.

The doctor is who you trust with your injuries and your wounds, he is who you go to when something hurts. You hid your sickness from Rafayel before now, so he didn't doubt your capabilities.

The crow… the crow gets under his scales. Like a tick. Biting and bleeding and ruining his skin. Yet you trust him, a man who built all his life on violence. Who has blood on his hands. Who is open about his sins… While he cannot tell you for fear of the look in your eye changing.

It is safe to say the crow is his least favourite. The one who grinds at him most, who plucks and pulls. Like a hook in his upper lip. He dreams of drowning the man… he would if the look in your eyes didn't stop him.

So he hates them, he thinks. The anger and irritation and the childish petulance. He wants your attention and he fights for it, he wants you to trust him most. It took too long to gain entrance into your home, reminding himself that time builds strong bonds. That he should be patient. He did not want to scare you, to startle you. Like you are a small fish and he is a bigger… hungrier beast.

There is no peace when they are around, and normally pain brings him inspiration, an answer on the end of a paintbrush. A vision in the agony.

Whatever feeling they inspire is not pain, and it brings him no art to create, no feelings to share in blues and greens. Nothing to show for it.

He has thankfully, however, finished his final piece. So there is a relief in him, even as the crow looks down at him, eyebrow raised.

Rafayel ignores the man, looking straight ahead, signing his work. Paintbrush steady. Steadier than the racing heart in his chest.

He will not lose a game of chicken with an overgrown bird.

So when the crow turns to walk away, he is relieved, and so smug, until he hears a crunch. Looking over quickly, and staring down at the floor.

"Ah, what a shame."

One of Rafayel's paintbrushes snapped in half by the stupid crow's foot.

He levels a glare at the man, "Are stupid crows clumsy too?"

"Are all fish messy? Your things have spread across the apartment."

"I'm working!"

"Quite diligently I see, despite galavanting off to the beach. Inspiration was it?"

The look on the crow's face is too level. It's too calm. He does not respond to the rise of Rafayel's voice. He does not flinch at the glare in his eyes. He does not move, from where his foot is still on his brush.

It is a feeling of irritation that burns and scorches where it stands.

He has to tolerate and bite his tongue. He has to think and be careful. He has to share, where he does not want to share.

You are his heart, why does he have to look at the eyesore in his vision, and think about his hands on you too.

His anger bubbles and froths and overflows. A pot that has been left, and forgotten. You will forget him too, in favour of a crow! A stupid. Foolish. Irritating crow.

He stands and presses forwards, fangs bared and sharp. He is a predator of the seas. This man is nothing. He is a god of the tides. This man is a petty criminal.

Rafayel knows you better, he has seen more incarnations than this man can even comprehend, and he dares to play at favour?

"If you wish to be drowned, crow, I am happy to oblige."

Eyebrow quirks at him, a look in his eyes that Rafayel can't make out, but it glitters and twinkles, "I'd love to see you try, fish, but I'm afraid you couldn't hope to kill me."

"I am more than willing to try."

"Then you'll simply be hurting your 'beloved bride', wouldn't you?"

He snarls, a low noise in the back of his throat, hand reaching out to grab at the man's throat. To snap it, bite through it, to cut his voice permanently, he isn't sure. It will hurt, and he will deserve it. For calling you what he cannot. Too many memories that you cannot hold in your heart.

The crow steps forwards, as if daring him to try. To wrap his hands around his throat and twist. To slice his throat open with a dagger. To see. To show him if it's true.

"Raffy?" Your call comes from the side, stumbling in, voice wary.

His hand hovers, he debates. Thinks for a moment. Stares at the crow's adam apple as the man swallows his laughter down. The dare is there, waiting for him to take… and they both know he won't.

So he rips his hand back, offers you the kind of smile that shakes at the foundations, "Hey cutie, I was just going out for the exhibit."

You open your mouth to speak, and he shakes his head, grabbing his canvas. Lifting it far too quickly to be safe, and turns on a heel, "I'll see you later."

The speed he leaves the apartment leaves the door frame shaking behind him. Heading out, running from the place. From the crow's dare, from the wary look in your eyes.

From the inadequacy… the guilt… the irritation. The pain.

What lurks over the abyss could just be nothingness. A world where you don't want him, or need him. Where without your memories you do not look at him, hear him call you his beloved bride, and love him as you once did. Where his bond with you is not enough, and he simply has to experience the heart that cannot beat for anyone but you.

That he has lied and hidden and kept from you for too long, that a criminal with blood on his hands who does not hide… claims your heart for his.

His heart…

There is pain behind his art and in his soul. A reminder that he cannot always be with you in every life, and he prays this is not one of them. An alter of suffering that he would cut his chest open at, if you would always look at him.

—--

You cannot stop thinking about the look on Rafayel's face.The agony in his eyes as he'd darted from the room. You'd asked Sylus who had shrugged, "I broke his paintbrush." But not explained further.

You'd seen Rafayel break his own paintbrushes in his studio, stepping on them, falling over them. Resulting in a trip to the hospital because of how messy things were.

You help Sylus clean up some of the mess, containing it in a corner with the rest of Raffy's things, hoping it would alleviate some of the feeling you can't seem to shake in the air. A stagnation. It feels like decay, and you can't open enough windows to air it out.

If Sylus decides not to share, he won't. You've known him long enough, pried at his secrets enough, that you don't waste the strength anymore. He shares what he wants, when he wants to.

So you abandon the effort and go about your day. It drags. Waiting for time to pass, working through your exercises, before you have to leave.

As the time approaches, the clock hand moving, it begins to click harder. The sound impending.

You think about other exhibits, the amount of people, the noise…

It cuts through the excitement, the peace of the wait, the boredom.

You pause as you're getting ready, staring at the prosthetic arm flexing in front of you. The movement of metal fingers, the clear indication of your injury… your failure.

You're going to see Rafayel. A man who people will be looking at. Commending.

Taking photos of.

Do you really want to be stood next to him like this? To draw attention to yourself and him?

An icy chill runs up your spine, and you stop. You have to get these clothes off. You have to cancel. You can't go.

You can't be there.

You feel the chain on your ankle, it tugs and it pulls, and it drags you back. The beast that settled, has woken up. It is hungry and it is angry, and it is laughing at you for trying.

A mistake, this was a mistake. You made a promise to someone you care about, and now you're going to hurt him. Either way, you're going to hurt him. Make him look stupid. Make him hate you.

You're going to break this fragile peace. Bring that agonised look into his eyes again.

Take from a man who gives you so much. Love, affection, kindness, warmth, acceptance, joy.

You are ripping all those things from his hands, and returning nothing.

"Kitten?" You stumble, when the voice startles you out of your thoughts. Falling back onto the bed, looking up as Sylus enters, not bothering to wait for an answer. Ever since your mission had gone wrong, he has been far less hesitant. If he could ever be said to be hesitant.

When he sees you sitting, tears in your eyes, he approaches you, kneels in front of you. Hands on your knees. Soothing your skin. His skin is so warm, it's like a brand. You almost pull away. On fire, itching, hurting. He notices your flinch and pulls his hands away. The relief of the cool is intense, and you choke on the feeling.

You're the mistake. Too fragile to be touched. Too useless to be helpful. Too much work.

He takes in your rumbled clothing. The shirt half pulled off, the jacket thrown away from you, the trousers unclasped. You are shivering, and shaking, and while you can see his hands twitching. Yearning, needing to soothe, he knows he can't. So he tries to speak, hesitant now, "Don't you like them?" You think about the time he spent, finding things with Rafayel that are easier to wear. Clasps that can be done easier with one hand, or buttons bigger for your unsteady metal fingers.

Things that require the least amount of struggle. If he could not find them, he had them made.

The two of them, you think as you try to fight through the fog, are dangerous.

You shake your head numbly. "I can't go."

It doesn't require much more from you, even without his eye, Sylus reads people. He reads you. He's said sometimes he cannot understand the workings of your mind, but he improves everyday. It is terrifying to be seen by him. Terrifying for him to look under the rough exterior, to the rougher interior.

You wait for the moment that he realises you're not worth it.

"You'll be with us." He starts, and you look down at where his hand twitches towards you, then back. "You won't be alone."

You haven't been alone, you think. In all the time you've spent with this. This weight, first on your back, then on your ankle. They have come to find you. Looking.

Just like Caleb did.

Is it enough? This could be that wakeup call.

"Rafayel wants you there, he's excited to see you." It is odd. It is hearing Sylus say 'Rafayel' and not 'fish', that jolts you back. Just like the moment you saw them in your kitchen, arguing. Just like when you saw them all walk through that door when the blanket was your only defence.

It is a realisation of how odd this is. How bizarre they are.

It almost makes you hiccup a laugh. The idea of Sylus speaking for Rafayel. You think about how warm he is to you, how he takes your hand easily.

I will always want to look at you.

"What if it's too much work?" You finally manage, the agony lightening so you can speak, no longer tearing at you. Though you can feel the creature on your ankle. Tugging. Like a dog with a chew toy.

"The important things are worth it."

Important.

Learning to use your prosthetic is hard. Learning to trust is hard.

It was with Caleb, it is with all of them. It is a constant struggle. A constant weight. To try.

They catch you, with a security net. Give you space to breathe, so you can stand back up again.

You think about what you want, think about what will make you happy… what is worth living for.

It is the reason to keep getting up.

You want to see Rafayel's work, you want to see the people you care about. You want to keep your promise to a man who values you. A hesitant shaky hand takes Sylus' where it hovers. The way you can watch him heave a sigh, the tension in him easing, as he clasps yours between both of his. Tight, but not suffocating. He grounds you, and it doesn't burn.

"What do you think, Kitten? Do you want to try?"

Sylus has never belittled you for tears, or made you feel your emotions are a mistake. When you are drowning, he offers a hand. When you anger and hurt, he is there, either to join you in your hurt, or to help appease it.

He offers you a choice, and he means it. If you truly do not want to, you know he will accept it. If you want to, he will help.

"I want to try."

He nods, pulling you up with him, to stand, straight into his chest. So that you can feel his uneven heart beating against you. "Then let's get you ready."

—-----

He should never have left so early. He should have stayed with you.

Rafayel left the apartment in frustration and anger and now he stares at his phone, hoping to see your name pop up.

It is an agitating feeling. To be stood on the edge of the cliff and not know if there's water below.

He has forced himself to listen to Thomas, to go through the motions, to ensure his exhibit is set up correctly. He has sat under too bright lights, feeling himself drying up, as he waits. As the clock hand moves, as he thinks, and he struggles.

If he keeps running, will you stop chasing him?

As his exhibit starts, he checks again, only to see a message from the doctor, 'Good luck today'. He doesn't respond. He stares at it. It's unsettling. He doesn't want the doctor to wish him good luck. He doesn't want his comfort.

He doesn't need it.

Even when his agitation settles a moment, and he hides it from Thomas who asks him why he's smiling. He's not.

That doesn't mean anything.

He does not wave at Xavier as he walks through the door, milling around the paintings quietly. Avoiding the bigger crowds. He tries not to think about the fact that he's come to see.

It doesn't matter.

As time passes, Rafayel fidgets.

Stares at the door.

Fidgets.

Stares at the door.

He walks around the room, passes Xavier, who hands him water quietly, then walks off. He stares down at it, but he's parched, the crowds are tiring him out, the people are talking like they understand him, and he just wants to be somewhere else. So he downs it, and lets the relief of the chill settle in his throat.

He talks absently to people he doesn't really care to listen to. Thomas gives him a talk about doing his duties.

Irritation settles in his stomach. He doesn't care about his duties. He cares about seeing you.

He checks his phone, and is relieved, though irritated, when he gets a message from the crow, 'We're on our way'. He sends back a thumbs up, though it is through a shaky hand. Excitement makes it unsteady.

It is when he is not staring at the door, when he hears your voice behind him. "Raffy?" Pulling away from where he is avoiding Thomas' lectures, he takes you in. Your hand is grasped in the crow's, eyes darting around the room. You're wearing your prosthetic, a dark blue jacket over your shoulders, painted with green and blue flowers. Flared trousers and a light shirt. He absently thinks that the crow's style isn't too ridiculous, if it means you visit his exhibits like this. Like one of the flowers in a garden he wants to take you.

"Cutie!" It is relief and it is the weight of hundreds of years that shed. He waited, he waited, and you came. He takes your hand away from the crow, not without giving a smug little smile, which receives him a smirk, and kisses the back of it. "You made it."

He watches your eyes glisten, he can feel the heat off your cheeks. Not all embarrassment, he knows some of it is stress, but it is enough. "You don't have to stay long." He promises, it doesn't matter how long you stay. You came. You came, no matter what.

You came, and he knows it wasn't easy.

The laugh you release, it trembles, like your hand, but it is accompanied by the small smile he is learning to draw with his eyes closed. "Show me your work?"

"I'll go find the prince, call me if you need me." The crow offers, he leans, kissing your temple, before he leaves. You blink after him a bit, touching where he kissed with your hand, pulling it from Rafayel's grasp, and then look at him. He glares after the man, but doesn't offer much of a response.

"Come on then cutie, you're mine." He doesn't look as he grabs your hand, and he knows he is grinning at you. Pulling you forwards with him, darting to where his art calls for you.

He doesn't notice the chill in your hand, until he eases his fingers over it. Feeling grooves and edges. He almost releases when he realises he has grabbed your prosthetic, you are staring down at it with him.

Rafayel looks at you, tries to read the look in your eyes. It is soft, and awed and gentle. So he raises it to his lips, kissing the wrist. You tremble, blinking, before tightening your grip just a little.

It is the soft, warm look in your eyes, as you tug him forward a little bit more, a laugh bubbling out of you. "Come on Raffy."

He takes you around all of his paintings, and just watches you.

You don't offer him opinions or thoughts often, he has learned if he gives you space to look, you can tell him how you feel. What his art brings out in you. If he looks closely at your face, he can watch it. Trembling in your eyes.

As you flit amongst paintings, like a butterfly amongst flowers, tugging him along with you. He follows willingly.

There are moments when you stop, and your hand twitches out. Like you are holding back the urge to run your fingers over the paint. Tracing shapes, touching at his heart directly.

He wants to tell you that you can do as you please. That you are the one who he wants to understand him most. That his art, and his soul are yours to do with as you like. That you could tear images from his canvas, and he would still paint more for you.

Finally you find yourself in front of his struggle. Bleached bones on the beach, tides easing out. Leaving scars behind.

At the edges of the horizon, the sun rises again. Painting the once dreary sky in a rainbow.

You are the sunrise that greets him, that reminds him that time moves forwards. That there is something to see after the night.

That tomorrow has a chance for better than today.

You bloom like a flower before his eyes, a sight he could never have seen beneath the waves. A reminder of why he came to visit the surface every year. A reminder of all the wonders of land that he idolised as a child.

"Beautiful." Is exhaled, and he is unsure if it was you or him. The twinkling in your eyes, perhaps it was both.

Eventually he feels the strain in your countenance, the exhaustion, so he sneaks with you out of the exhibit. Escaping into gardens that are quiet, and closed to others. A locked gate has never kept him out of anywhere, however.

It is the quiet that settles you, and he settles alongside you. No longer wearing a mask he does not want for people who come to stare at his work. He pulls you amongst flowers, fields of lilies, and whispers of petals.

Secluded and alone. The way he feels best with you.

Lying down in the grass, to look up at the sky, stars twinkling.

It is with the view of the stars that you speak, voice tinged in a guilt he wishes to chase away, "I almost didn't come. I'm sorry Raffy."

His eyes turn to you, to read the draw of your lips, the pain in your eyes, the way you tighten your grip on his hand. Cool metal against skin that reacts to you more than any other. Sensitive, aware.

Your touch will always alight his senses.

He knows the hesitation, he thinks about the way you wavered on the edge, hand extended to you as you feared to take it. He knows that you are adjusting. He regrets asking you to promise, to put that weight on your shoulders.

He is relieved you came. To see him, to stare at the workings of his heart, and yearn to trace it with fingers.

His patience and his need fight often. His awareness of pushing, his desperation. It is hard to balance.

"What changed your mind?"

You edge a little closer on the grass, so that the heat of him spreads over the sensors of your prosthetic. Alongside the gentle stroking of his thumb over your hand. "Sy told me you wanted me to be here… and I wanted to be here for you."

Rafayel's first instinct is the kind of reaction he's seen cats get to water. Hissing and jumping up. Shaking himself furiously.

There is great dissatisfaction at comparing himself to the demons.

There is greater dissatisfaction at the crow, helping him. In any way.

It is a feeling of being pulled back by the scruff of his neck, away from the abyss he seeks out. The fall into the ocean.

The agony on the edge of the conscious.

You poke his cheek with your other hand, then brush hair back and his heart settles its seething. "I'm glad."

"Glad?"

"That they care for you." It is whispered, and it is tentative, and he sees the worry in your eyes.

The fear at his arguments before. The anxiety that you are causing distress.

Forcing them. Making them clash in enclosed spaces. Like caged beasts.

It is the wary voice that calls out to him, tries to ask the question about the pain in him, the voices and the agony ripping and pulling and hurting. The pain that grants him no inspiration.

They care.

A message sent to wish him luck. A quiet presence bringing him water when he dries. A fool giving you the push to move forwards to lead your feet to him.

You have not stopped looking for him and at him, and he has been holding you like a toy he does not wish to share…

It is a feeling he isn't ready to digest or question, not when the stars are bright and you are safe next to him. It is one he will think about in days to come, as he watches the doctor help him clean. As he is offered a pillow the prince favours in order to sleep better.

When the crow argues with him, but gives him food that satisfies a hunger he forgets to appease for himself.

When you do not look at him any less. That he has not lost anything, he is not lesser.

It is a feeling for later.

To help paint canvas he wants to share one day, though pain is absent, and something else glimmers in the sea.

[bits-and-babs]

Hi!! :) I was wondering if you could write a Joel Miller x female reader smut where Joel and the reader have a relatively large age gap. Y/N is new to the QZ, so she recently met Joel for the first time and became friends with him, but their relationship turns into a FWB relationship. Reader is about 20-23/in her early twenties. Possibly doggystyle?

-ˋˏ 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒 ˎˊ-

— pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader

— word count: 1.1k

— warnings: vague hunter/prey vibes, angry sex(?) ever so slightly mean Joel, p in v sex, cream-pie (ain’t no condoms surviving a 20 year apocalypse) ((wrap it, kids)), Peaches is a pet name— really leaning hard on the southern comfort, established FwithB relationship. 18+, ya nasties.

— authors note: I’m not sure if this is exactly what you wanted, nonny, but I got a little carried away! I enjoyed writing this so much, so I hope this makes up for it &lt;3

joel miller masterlist I| main masterlist |I send me an ask

Crunch.

The sound of a branch snapping amongst the treeline coats your stomach with nausea, tongue tasting of bile. You’re frozen in place, hand hovering over the pistol strapped to your hip. Listen.

When you stormed out of Joel's house this morning following the blazing row, you had felt confident that you would prove him wrong.

"Don't go out on patrol alone. There's worse out there than the infected, Peaches."

It felt patronising, like Joel was emphasising your age and interfering that you could not protect yourself without him. Sure, you were too young to remember outbreak day, but that meant you’d lived this way your entire life! You could protect yourself! So you set out on the patrol trail despite the bitter cold nipping at the apples of your cheeks and the heaviness of your feet as they ploughed through the blanket of snow.

Twisting on your heel, you scan the tree line for hostiles. It’s relatively still. Instead of fungus and bloodshed, you face off against a robin perched on a branch and a set of squirrels scuttling up a dead oak trunk.

You exhale a sigh of relief, a breath you didn't realise you were holding. Of course there was no one- there hadn’t been hunters for months!

Dropping your palm away from your weapon, you allow your adrenaline to settle back into your bones. It leaves you with a film of nervous sweat on your brow. You feel ridiculous- paranoid. Like Joel's words of warning had settled into the grooves of your mind, nerves working away unnoticed.

That stupid fucking argument rings in your head. Yelling at him that this thing between you doesn’t mean he could start getting protective. You were fine without him! You’d handled everything great so far!

Confident in your safety, you continue on your path. The crunch of the snow beneath your boots is loud, drowning out the noise of the surrounding forest as your chest heaves with the afterburn of your adrenaline spike. You don’t hear him.

A hand comes over your head, smothering your gasp with its palm when it covers your mouth. Panic takes over, your knees giving out beneath you as they shove you to the snowy floor. The crown of your head is cushioned by the thick, white inches, and your fear quickly turns to aggravation as you look Joel in the eye.

“Joel-!” You hiss behind his hand, slapping his shoulder and kicking your feet, “You scared the shit out of me!”

“Told you not to go on your own.” His voice is gruff, laced with the bite of arousal when he yanks your thermal jumper out from under the waistband of your cargo pants. It’s freezing, and goosebumps litter your skin as he practically rips the zipper down and drags them over your hips.

“J-Joel-“ you fumble, watching him dip his head down to press kisses to your stomach. His beard hair is coarse against the soft flesh of your abdomen, and he sinks his teeth in just enough to leave a bruise. “Fuck!”

“Comin’ out here when I told you not to. Gettin’ all lipsy with me-“ he growls, shucking your trousers over your hips and yanking down your underwear. You gasp when your naked ass hits the snow, staring up at the older man as it melts into your back.

He’s practically tearing his clothes off, stripping the belt from his body and tossing it with an urgency you hadn’t seen in him since meeting him on these secret rendezvouses. He’s ravenous, already hard in his jeans as he begins stripping out of them. It sets your skin alight and starts a buzz in the pit of your stomach.

“Who are you, my dad?” You scoff, allowing yourself a little bite-back. It sparks something in him, his hands grabbing ahold of your body and practically hoisting you onto your hands and knees.

“Gettin’ real fuckin’ mouthy with me, Peaches,” he growls in your ear, his chest draped over your back as he sweeps his cock-head through your folds. You’re wet already, Joel’s exigency working you up before he even had a chance to touch you. “Gunna shut you up.”

God, when he pushes inside of you, a broken wail falls from your lips, your head bowing at your shoulders as you claw at the layers of snowflakes at your fingers. It’s as though he’s cracking you open, the stretch tinged with sharp pain but blooming white-hot through your body.

“Joel-!”

He shoves forward, slamming into the depths of you, and holy fuck, it’s deep. It’s as though he punches the air out of your lungs, and you’re wheezing, nails caking with dirt as you drag them across the soil.

When he thrusts, it hurts. Stings. You groan loudly, back arching as you push your hips back into him despite the feeling he’s bruising your guts.

“What was that, Peaches?” He lets out a short huff, like a laugh. You see the vapour of his hot breath hitting the out of the corner of your eye. “You got somethin’ to say?”

“N-No!” You gasp in reply, utterly submitting to the brutality of his thrusts as he rocks into you heavily.

“Hah!” He truly scoffs now, hand burying into the junction of your neck and using the grip to pull you back harder onto his cock. It winds you completely, and any noises you would make die in your throat as he continues his brutal pace. “Baby can’t think, can she?”

Then you’re sobbing, ugly, messy sobs where the tears sting your freezing cheeks as he fucks you hard and raw. It’s thrumming, buzzing around you, your orgasm building and building as he viscously punches your cervix with the head of his cock.

“I know, I know baby,” he consoles you as you practically vibrate around him, his hand sliding down the ghost of your spine through your thick winter coat. “I know, it’s so good. You’r-fuck- You’re so good- Come on, Peaches. Come on.”

His coaxing, his praise makes you clamp down around him like a vice. Your body screams, your voice ricocheting off the tree trunks, but you’re blown apart by your orgasm and you can’t even hear it. You must be letting out pathetically loud yelps because Joel amps up his thrusts by a thousand, his pace far too fast for a man of his age.

“Hnggg- Jesus-,” he lets out a strangled noise, quickly spitting out something about you creaming around his cock before his body stiffens suddenly. His earth-shattering thrusts slow to a slight rock as he pulses hot, spilling inside of you with a devastating growl of your name.

It feels like shell shock, the way your body slumps and the disembodied feeling that your afterglow leaves you with. Joel’s groaning softly, pushing up the hem of your thermals to expose your back. He presses tender kisses across your spine, blessing each vertebra with a touch of his lips as his cum runs down the inside of your thigh. He hums.

“One more, baby. Wanna give you one more-“

END

-

[icycoldninja]

hello, this is my first time asking. i like your writing (dmc stuff) i was just thinking about when you’ll update next. can i request for the dmc characters with a devil hunter reader who unsuspectingly strong and also just has a really huge sword as a weapon but just swings it around like its a stick and just laughs it off like its nothing. oh sure the reader can just casually knock trees down and goes “uh oh..oops.. not again.”

maybe the reader just wears baggy clothes or huge trench coats that hide their figure so you cant tell theyre actually really strong. maybe the reader wears frilly things instead that just makes them appear softer. maybe they just dont look strong. like when theyre relaxed they just look normal but when fighting or flexing all their muscles show.

oh maybe the sword could have a silly little story too. like the reader got it during a devil hunting mission, it was stuck in stone and others tried to pull it out but the unsuspecting reader just grabs it and goes “oh.. its lighter than i expected.”

Thank you so much! I'm sorry it took so long for me to update this time, but I hope you enjoy!

Sparda boys + V x Surprisingly strong!Reader headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-You're normally swathed in baggy clothes that hide your figure, which Dante thought was just because of personal preference.

-He had no idea at all that those clothes hid an incredibly strong, muscular physique.

-Your weapon is bigger than his, which shocked him. What was even more jarring was the fact that you often accidentally knocked down trees and buildings.

-You were a walking wrecking ball, one swing from your weapon being enough to decimate a forest. Dante had to be extra careful not to upset you while throwable or swingable objects were in your field of reach.

-One of the bright sides is that you can carry him around with ease. Now he can live out his dreams of being toted around bridal-style.

-Oh, and he has nothing to worry about whenever he has to move the furniture. You can do it all by yourself, without even breaking a sweat!

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil knew you were capable, but never thought you would be strong enough to destroy an ancient looking tree with one strike.

-Normally, you dress in cute frilly things that make you look like a total softie, when you are almost the exact opposite in combat.

-The ridiculously oversized weapon you carry only adds to how bizarre this whole thing is. You might as well be a Manga character isekaied into real life.

-The first time he watched you destroy a forest was while you were training together. Somehow, your grip on your comically large weapon slipped, and it flew out of your hands, slicing a tree clean in half as a result.

-Vergil sometimes wonders if he would be a match for you, should you both go all out.

-He doesn't have to worry about that now, though. Instead, he can take pride in the fact that you can carry all the groceries for him, literally singlehandedly.

□ Nero □

-Nero thought it was hilarious, watching you destroy everything with your giant weapon.

-No, he never expected you could or would do something like that, but it was so entertaining to see you go.

-Your weapon, giant as it was, was 4 times as powerful in your hands, able to decimate buildings in a few strikes.

-Nero encouraged you to start up a demolition company. With your skill and speed, you'd be making millions in no time.

-Whether you take his advice or not doesn't matter, you're still a force to be reckoned with, that is admired and feared by most, if not everyone you know.

-Nero is very cool with all this because he knows he has nothing to worry about. Whenever a situation arises that involves intense labor work, he just calls you!

● V ●

-V was honestly frightened of you at first.

-He knows you would never do anything to hurt him and all that, but watching you almost destroy an entire hillside with one blow scared him.

-Besides, you don't even look like someone who would have the strength to do that--you honestly dress a lot like him!

-Had you not felt the need to explain yourself and assure him everything was fine, he may as well have run away from you.

-He does like watching you train--from a distance, that is. He doesn't think he would survive an accidental attack from you.

-At the very least, whenever he collapses, V can rest easy knowing you'll be able to carry him home no problem.

[alrightieaphroditie]

harder | j.m  series masterlist!

pairing *:·ﾟjoel miller x female!reader wc *:·ﾟ5.7k warnings *:·ﾟ18+! minors please do not interact!! v angsty at first, mentions of death and overall sad topics... then we go into a lil bit of kissing, some dirty talk if you squint, teasing, pet names (baby, sugar), titty play, some praise, probably poorly written smut lmao an *:·ﾟit's been a hot second since i tried writing smut and damn am i insecure about it lmaoo this took longer than anticpated too because i sadly lost half of it almost immediately after writing it... so yeah. feedback is hella appreciated on this, and it isn't quite proofread so if you catch something please let me know!! i enjoyed writing this (like a lot) so i really hope you all enjoy reading this! <3 

synopsis *:·ﾟever since the dinner at your place, joel and ellie have fit themselves into your life seamlessly. when joel gets back from a hunting trip, he comes over and shows you some new tricks. (18+!)

over the course of a couple months, joel and ellie had fit themselves into your life like puzzle pieces. 

the pair would come over to your house once a week every week after that first dinner together, and sometimes you would cook, sometimes you'd grab some food to go from the tipsy bison. they would help you set the table, ellie nagging joel most nights about how slow he was moving to put the silverware around the table. you would all eat, then ellie would sneak into the living room while you and joel cleaned together. and then the three of you would sit around your coffee table, playing board games or cards. or you'd go to see the movie playing in town, or you'd go for a walk around the neighborhood. 

these nights with them quickly became your favorite moments of the week. you had formed a close bond with ellie, and the more time you spent with joel, the harder you fell for him. most nights ellie would fall asleep in the guest room you had set up for her, and you and joel would spend hours talking together out on the porch like you did that first night. 

sometimes you'd talk about nothing major. he'd comment on how the greenhouses were doing, which was where you helped the community out the most, and it would get you talking about all the vegetables and flowers you were trying to grow. or you'd ask how his patrol shift went, and he'd complain to you about his partner. it was small talk, but with someone like joel, it meant a lot to you that he was willing to simply sit on your wooden bench beside you and listen. 

sometimes, after a long week, you'd make joel a glass of whiskey (which you had started to keep around simply for the man. how he didn't know how much you crushed on him was beyond you. maybe it was his age.) and you'd talk about the harder things. your time spent in the bunker your family built. how your best friend was murdered by a group of hunters after they had kept you captive for weeks. how they used you. how you managed to kill them all while they slept because they got lazy and assumed you were too weak. 

joel had had a hard time listening to it, but he insisted that he wanted to hear about your past. the guilt he felt was indescribable. he wasn't the one to keep you captive, to use you, but with his past as a hunter he couldn't help but feel like he played a role in your pain. he had spent a lot of time repressing his emotions regarding that aspect of his life, but you encouraged him to talk about it. to feel his emotions. you told him over and over again that you didn't blame him, weren't scared of him. didn't judge him. 

it was hard for him to hear, to believe, but your consistency helped him more than he would ever admit. he was more welcome in jackson now than he was when he first arrived, mostly thanks to you, but he still felt like an outsider. like people were just waiting for a pin to drop and for him to reduce back into the monster of a man they claimed him to be. he was tired of trying to prove to everyone that he was simply just a man who survived the only way he knew how to. but with you? he didn't feel the need to apologize for who he was. he could settle with you, and that was something he hadn't felt in a long time. 

on the simpler nights, joel would talk about his life before the outbreak, how he and tommy worked in contracting and how he missed doing things with his hands. he'd talk about always being busy, always doing something, when the world turned. about how he was skeptical of the community when he and ellie first stumbled upon it because for once, for the first time since the outbreak, he wasn't constantly having to look over his shoulder for something bad. 

on the harder nights, the ones where joel felt like he needed more than one glass of liquor, he confided in you about sarah. about tess. about how his relationship with tommy had changed and he didn't know what he needed to do to fix it anymore. about his insecurities with ellie, how he didn't trust his mind anymore to make the right decisions when it came to her because he was too attached. 

he told you all of the things he swore he would never talk about again, and you simply sat there, listening, sharing his burden. the way your hand would rest gently on his arm while he talked, squeezing it every once in a while, to encourage him to go on, it provided him with a strength he didn't know he needed. 

joel didn't know this, but that night when he first told you about sarah and the events that happened on his birthday, after he and ellie had left, you spent the rest of your night crying in your bed. crying for joel, for the loss he had experienced. for how the world had turned and how he had to manage the loss of his own world on top of it. for how he was never properly able to grieve her death. 

you were beginning to see a side of joel you don't think anyone has seen in a long time. you were also starting to understand why joel miller was the man he is today. after learning about his past, his experiences, and his trauma, you recognized and could empathize why he felt the need to guard his heart the way he has been. it was a testament to his strength, how he could keep going while carrying all of that inside of him, and you admired the hell out him. 

and somehow, you had worked your way into his heart, through his guards. and joel may not have known it yet, but you were there to stay, and you would be for as long as he let you. 

you were constantly thinking about the man, your days spent replaying your conversations in your mind and getting giddy just remembering them. you honestly were a bit concerned, considering you've never felt this way about anyone before. you wanted to ask maria about it, but then she'd pester you into telling her who you were crushing over, and you didn't think it would go over too well considering joel was twice your age and, well, him. 

so, you kept it to yourself, letting your mind fantasize about what it would be like to actually be with joel, physically, romantically, all of it. 

you hadn't seen joel in a couple of days, as he was one of the men selected to go hunt. he wouldn't be back for a few more days, either, and you hated to admit it but you missed him. and you wondered if he missed you too. if he ever thought about you while he was away. he was so hard to read, even now, and sometimes you thought about just grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him while you unloaded all of your feelings onto him. 

but if there was one thing you knew about joel miller, it was that he would absolutely hate that. so... you kept it to yourself. 

you had just gotten home after spending all day in the greenhouse with ellie. maria had you showing her the vegetation that the community was working on, showing her the ins and outs of gardening and how to properly pick the fruit that was growing. she loved it, of course, and on her breaks, she spent most of the time sketching the different fruits and flowers in the little sketchbook joel had found for her. 

it was a good day, but a busy one, and you were exhausted. the sun was already starting to set, and you wanted to cuddle up on your couch with one of the romance novels your friend had brought you with a cup of tea. you were still dressed in your work outfit - a pair of olive-green linen pants and simple black cotton t-shirt - and you were already planning on stepping into your pajamas early when a knock on your door startled you. 

a glance through the little peephole on your door had your heart racing. joel was standing on your porch, one of his arms behind his back as he glanced around. you could see the muscles in his arm bulge against the faded red t-shirt he was wearing, and that sight alone could've fueled your fantasies for a month straight. 

a grin was plastered on your face as you unlocked the front door, and his dark eyes found yours easily through the screen door. "joel miller, as i live and breathe. what are you doin' here?" you adopted an exaggerated southern accent, something you and ellie started doing to poke fun of joel for his texan roots. he kept telling you guys it wasn't funny, but you could always see a small smile on his lips every time you did it.

even now as he rolled his eyes at you, you could see the edges of his mouth quirk up in a smirk, and fuck but you loved it. "you think you're so damn funny with that, don't you?" he asked, his gaze trailing down your body so quickly you almost missed it. but you didn't, and now your face was burning bright red. 

"ellie would agree with me and you know it, mister." you argued, pushing the screen door open for joel to come in. he didn't move, though, keeping his arm behind his back with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. you crossed your arms over your chest. "but for real, i thought you were gonna be out a few more days with everyone else?" it was rare that the hunting party would come back early, but not uncommon either. 

"didn't have much luck in the area we were in, so we figured we'd come back and regroup before leaving again. i found somethin' though," he trailed off, a full smile encompassing his mouth now. something you had learned about joel in your months of studying him was that gift giving was a huge thing for him. he mainly brought stuff back for ellie, but you've noticed lately that he had been finding little things here and there for you too. you wondered what that meant.

you could just barely make out the edges of something behind his legs, but you couldn't quit tell what it was. your arms slipped from your chest, your hands moving out and making a grabby motion. "you want me to close my eyes?" you teased, making a point of squinting your eyes so that you could see just a sliver of joel between them. he shook his head at you, grumbling something about how weird you were becoming, and he moved his arm from back behind his body. 

"joel!" you gasped; mouth dropped in awe as he presented a perfectly intact guitar. "this is amazing! you do know what this means now, right?" his eyebrow rose as he took in the sight of you gently holding the instrument. he had been pretty proud of the find, taking care to clean off the vines and dirt that had dusted itself around the guitar. considering you had been begging him for lessons for weeks since ellie mentioned he could play the guitar; he knew what was coming. 

he wanted to tease you about it, regardless. 

"if i hear the words 'guitar lessons' come out of your mouth, 'm leavin'." he threatened, crossing his arms across his chest. his worn t-shirt strained against his muscles and tightened around his chest, and it took everything in you not to stare. his tone was mean, as mean as he could get with you, but then he did something you weren't expecting - he winked at you. 

you squealed internally. 

“that’s not fair and you know it, miller. we literally have a guitar now! what else are we gonna do with it?” you complained playfully, your voice light. you started backing up into the house, joel’s arm reaching out to catch the screen door before it slammed shut in his face. he followed you in, making sure to close both doors and kicking his work boots off next to the small rug you had inside. 

you were still marveling over the instrument, turning it over in your hands while taking it in. from what you remembered, this was a pretty standard guitar. the wood was a warm brown, and it had all six silvery strings connected still. you sat down on the carpet in front of your couch, balancing the guitar on your thighs. you were aware of joel as he entered the living room behind you, settling into one of the chairs you had on the other side of the room.

he was quiet as he watched you get comfortable with the guitar, his brown eyes sweeping over your figure. your head was bent to the side, your hair falling in slight waves across your face as you studied where to put your fingers on the neck. he could see you biting your bottom lip as you concentrated, and he had to stealthy adjust himself in the chair as he watched. god, he thought. you looked so beautiful. 

his thoughts were interrupted by the loudest, most out of tune noise coming from you and the guitar. he had to fight off the urge to cover his ears, but then he wouldn’t have heard the sound of your laughter that followed quickly after, and that was something he never wanted to miss. his eyes were already on yours when you lifted your head to look at him, a sheepish smile on your face. “clearly i don’t know what i’m doing. your turn?” 

he hadn’t played the guitar in years, but he would be lying if he said his fingers weren’t itching to at least hold it again. he rubbed his palms against his jean clad thighs before standing up and taking the guitar from your outstretched hands. for some reason, he was nervous to play in front of you. he wanted it to be good, to be perfect, but with years of not practicing and with no idea how maintained this guitar was, he really couldn’t do much besides try. 

joel tested the guitar in his grip, absentmindedly strumming his fingers quietly while he fiddled with the pegs to tune it. and you sat there on your carpet, stars in your eyes as you watched his shoulders relax ever so slightly. you saw his foot tapping against the floor as he strummed, and it wasn’t a song you recognized but it immediately became your new favorite. 

he played for a lot longer than you anticipated, his eyes closing softly as his fingers worked the neck of the guitar. you wished in this moment that you had a camera, some way to capture the moment. you’ve never seen joel so relaxed, so in his element. his foot, tapping away against your floor. his hands, holding the guitar with a level of gentleness you weren’t expecting. his head, slowly bobbing along to the chords he played. the sunset was filtering through your window, casting him in an orangish glow. 

and your heart ached, thinking about the man before you who once dreamed of making a career out this. he was talented enough, that was for damn sure. you could easily imagine him somewhere up on a stage, holding the same guitar and preforming the same exact way. you wondered if he’d ever sing in front of you, but you didn’t want to push your luck. this alone was enough for you. 

the music eventually drifted away softly, joel’s fingers coming to rest as he strummed it one last time. he cleared out his throat when he finished, looking a little shy, but you weren’t having it. “joel, that was amazing.” you gushed, fighting the urge to clap for him. 

“s’nothin’ special,” he muttered, but you swore the tips of his cheeks turned a shade of light pink from the compliment. 

“that’s bullshit and you know it,” your tone was argumentative back, not wanting him to diminish his talents. you sat forward on your knees, clasping your hands together. “will you please teach me something, joel? anything? one singular basic chord?” you begged, giving him your biggest eyes and playful pout. 

“you’re almost worse than ellie is when she wants something.” he teased, rolling his head back on his neck before standing up to come sit behind you on the couch. his legs spread out, and from the corner of your eye you could see his thighs strain against his jeans. oh lord. 

“i’m taking that as a compliment. that girl is so headstrong and i love it,” you shuffled back so that your back was pressed against the couch, crossing your legs over the other again so that you could rest the guitar against your lap. you gave an experimental strum, and since joel worked on tuning it, the noise that came out was much more pleasant than your attempt earlier. 

“course you would,” the man behind you muttered, and you shot him a grin over your shoulder before adjusting your hands on the instrument. he leaned forward slightly, keeping an eye on your hands and not the way your shirt dipped down the front of your chest slightly. your skin was more exposed, and he could see a constellation of freckles littering your skin. fuck, but he wanted to kiss every single one of them. 

with a sigh, joel began telling you where to place your fingers along the neck for specific chords. he was patient, watching carefully as you figured them out with his help. every time you correctly struck the right chord, it made him grin. he liked seeing you so excited over this mundane activity. the way you were always so enthusiastic, so bright, it just drew him in like a moth to the light. he couldn’t help it. 

you had shifted away from the couch slightly, your back hunched over the instrument as you did you best to play it. you had picked up the simple chords pretty easily, but you were struggling with getting your finger placement correct on the last one joel gave you. joel kept telling you how easy this one was, too, which had started to frustrate you. the man’s hands were easily twice the size of your own, of course he would think it was easy. and you said as much to joel, too, who only chuckled in response. 

“know you can do it, sugar.” he encouraged quietly, scooting over on the couch so that his legs almost bracketed your body. he leaned forward, pulling your upper body back a bit from its slouch as he moved to help you. “keep your arm like this, and then stretch this finger as much as you can. you can move your wrist a little, too.” his rough hands were soon on top of your own, his applying a little more pressure so that he could guide your finger to the correct position. 

finally, you were able to hit the chord right, and you cheered for yourself as you strummed it a couple more times. joel’s hand had slide up your arm gently, resting on the top of your left shoulder while you played. he was still crouched over slightly, but when you turned your head to look at him, you were shocked with how close his face was to yours. 

now that you were facing him though, you could revel in the way his breath was hitting the spot on your neck just right, how it sent goosebumps down your arms and a shiver to your spine. if you tilted your head slightly, you’d bump his nose with your own. your eyes jumped to his, your hand gripping the neck of the guitar so tightly you worried that you were going to snap it. “joel,” you whispered, soft breaths parting from your lips as it opened slightly. 

his dark eyes met yours, and that was it.

you weren’t too sure who moved first. if it was you, dropping the guitar from your lap while you twisted up onto your knees in front of him. if it was him, the hand on your shoulder moving to rest at the base of your neck, squeezing it slightly as he guided you up to his mouth. joel’s thumb caressed your skin softly, and you felt yourself go weak in the knees.  

his mouth slanted across yours, and the feeling of his stubble scratching against your face made you whimper into his mouth softly. his hand tightened around your neck, using the leverage to pull you up from your knees, while his other hand guided you by your hip to straddle one of his legs on the couch. your hands went from his shoulders to his hair to cupping the sides of his face. you could feel him grinning against your lips.

you’ve been kissed before but kissing joel was an entirely new experience. you have never done something that felt so right, so good. you never wanted this to stop. 

your legs adjusted your weight on his thigh, and you felt joel’s grip on your waist tighten as he pressed you down harder. you could feel the rough denim through your thin linen pants, and when joel moved his hand forward, your hip followed in his grip as he rocked you against his thigh. this was a new experience, however. the feeling of his solid thigh pressed against your core, and you suddenly felt much, much hotter. 

“joel,” you whispered again, though it came out in more of a whimper against his lips. his hand rocked you against him again, and yours slid to hold his shoulders and you tested the movement yourself, dragging your hips up his thigh and then back down. another whimper emitted from your lips, and you had half a mind to be embarrassed about the noise, but you were too caught up in the feeling. 

“i know, baby.” his voice was rough against your mouth, and he lowered his lips against yours again, this time angling his head to the side to deepen the kiss. joel tugged on your bottom lip with his teeth, making you gasp softly at the hint of pain before his tongue covered the spot. he took the opportunity of your open mouth to move his tongue in against yours, and you basically crumpled in his lap at how demanding he was as he kissed you. 

your hips had started to steadily move against his thigh on your own, but his big, rough hand was still resting on your hip, his fingers digging little half-moon bruises into your skin as he helped you press a little harder. joel gave your throat one last little squeeze before he moved to the hem of your t-shirt, his fingers slipping underneath ever so slightly. you could feel the calluses on his hands as he trailed them across your stomach lightly, and your breath caught in your throat as he brushed his thumb over the material of your bra, right where your nipple would be. 

you were so overwhelmed by everything joel - his taste, his touch, his smell. you didn’t want to, but you felt yourself struggling to catch a breath, so you pulled away from his mouth slightly, brushing his nose with yours gently. he could feel the little pants coming from your mouth as you exhaled, could hear the smallest of whimpers riding along those exhales as well. everything about you in this moment was working for him, so well that he was trying to think of something ridiculous to stop himself from coming in his damn jeans like a teenager. 

“god, sugar,” he said lowly, trailing his nose across your jaw and down your neck before settling his lips on the base of your throat. the feeling made you giggle softly, but it quickly turned into a louder moan as he started to suck on your skin. “you’re ridin’ my thigh so well, huh?” the compliment had you blushing even more than before. 

you never would’ve imagined that joel, quiet, stoic, joel, would be talking to you like one of the heroes in your romance novels. it was better than anything you could have ever thought of. 

“it feels so good, joel,” you whined, sliding your hand from his shoulder to cup the back of his head. you let your fingers dig into his skin, pulling on the small strands of his hair lightly as you bucked your hips against him. he let out a low groan against your neck, his fingers underneath your shirt pinching the spot his thumb just brushed against. 

he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. “fuck, i knew you’d be too good to resist. you look so pretty, takin’ what you want from me.” he nipped at your neck, grinning against your skin as you cried out. letting go of your hip, he moved his hand under your shirt with the other one, raising it just enough so that he could see the black bra you were wearing. “can i move this down?” he asked so politely, pressing a small kiss against the skin he just bit.

considering the position you were in, the pleasure this man was making you feel by simply kissing you, you were inclined to let him do whatever he so pleased with you. all you could do was nod your head, give him a small “mhm,” as your eyes started to flutter shut from the tingling sensation happening low in your stomach. 

you heard joel give you a quiet “thank you, baby,” before his hands tugged down the front of your bra. he didn’t bother pulling your shirt off, he didn’t bother taking the bra off entirely. instead, he managed to pull them low enough to have your tits spill over the top, and he bit back a groan before he lowered his mouth to take one of your nipples into his mouth. 

the feeling of his warm mouth against your sensitive skin had you arching your back, pressing your front closer against joel. he slid one of his hands to your lower back, his skin rough against yours, as he encouraged you to move your hips against him. your hand in his hair gripped tightly, practically holding joel against your chest as he nipped and sucked. 

your inner thighs were starting to shake from the movements, and his name was leaving your mouth like a prayer. it only encouraged him more, and he started to softly bounce his leg while you moved against it, giving you even more friction. you felt the heat from your stomach pool to your center, and you weren’t even able to form a coherent thought anymore. you couldn’t help your eyes from squeezing shut, couldn’t help your mouth from falling open, couldn’t help the borderline pornographic moans that emitted from your lips. 

“that’s it, sugar. gonna make yourself cum against my thigh, huh?” joel asked, pulling away from your chest as he watched you with hooded eyes. you were completely lost in the pleasure, could feel yourself soak through your panties with how wet you were becoming. you had never cum like this before, but god this would definitely not be the last time. that was a sentiment that you both had shared. 

“fuck, joel,” you squeaked out, increasing your hips movements against his thigh. his hand on your back gave you support, and he pinched your nipples roughly once more before he gripped your throat and brought your mouth back against his. this kiss was harder, messier, and more urgent than the kiss before. your teeth bumped against his, you felt your lips getting wet with spit, and fuck but you loved it. joel was usually so in control, so calm, and seeing him become so rushed, so frantic, it nearly pushed you to your orgasm alone. 

the thing that did it for you, though, was joel pulling away slightly, your noses brushing together as he offered you quiet words of encouragement. “you’re doing such a good job, just like that, baby. look at you, makin’ a mess on my thigh.” his breath invaded your space, making you gasp as you fought to get air as his hand tightened around your neck. he kissed you once more, just a gentle press of his lips against yours, and you lost it. 

your body curled in on itself as you came, white hot heat flooding your senses as you fell into joel’s chest with a loud cry. you were gripping him tightly, anchoring yourself to him as your body trembled. he held you tightly, brushing your hair back from your sweaty forehead and rubbing his hand up and down your back. he was grinning the entire time, his ego raising indefinitely at the fact that he had been able to make you feel this good. 

your face was pressed in the crook of his neck, and you were surprised to find genuine tears lingering in your eyes. that knowledge had you giggling, and you must have been delirious because you couldn’t stop it from happening. joel tilted his head back. “what the hell are you laughin’ at right now?” he asked, incredulously. he had never had a girl laugh after being with him. 

you could hear the slight panic in his voice, which made you laugh even more, but you sat back. “you made me cry,” you admitted to him, running your fingers underneath your eyes to wipe away the stray tears. joel let out a snort, which had you laughing once again. his thumbs moved to replace your fingers, gently moving across your skin until the wet was cleared up. he leaned up, placing a kiss gently on your forehead. “you okay?” he asked, softly caressing your skin with his hands. 

you bit down on your bottom lip, feeling more than okay, and you gave him a quick nod before taking his mouth with yours. the kiss was soft, but you were well intended to give joel the same amount of affection. your hand had just trailed down his chest, stopping at the waistband of his jeans, when you heard your front door open. 

“hello?” ellie’s voice rang out from the entryway, forcing you and joel apart. you had never moved so quickly, swinging your leg off of his thigh and fixing your top to cover your chest once again. you were still kneeling on the couch near joel when ellie stomped her way into the living room, giving the two of you a weird look. “why are you guys sitting so close to each other?” 

“she had somethin’ in her eye,” joel’s response was so quick, it almost made you snort. “what the hell are you doin’ here, kid? and didn’t i teach you how to knock first?” his irritation was palpable, which you found funny. poor guy was probably seconds away from coming in his pants. 

“geez, sorry. i saw that some of the other guys were back early, and you weren’t home so i figured you’d be here.” she explained, holding her hands up in surrender. joel pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand, trying to get his breathing under control. he had no right to be mad at ellie, and it wasn’t that he was actually mad… he was just trying not to embarrass himself in front of you. 

“why’d you figure that, els?” you asked, loving the fact that ellie knew joel well enough that he would come over here if he wasn’t at home first. even if you guys had just made out on your couch, you still liked the validation that joel maybe, possibly liked you back. 

“where else would he be? he literally never leaves the house unless it’s to come over here, and he hasn’t shut up about you since you first met.” she threw herself down in one of the chairs across the room from you, completely oblivious to the glare joel was shooting her way. 

“oh really?” your voice was teasing as you turned your head to joel, who easily fixated his glare on you. you wiggled on your knees slightly next to him, which caused his eyes to darken. 

“don’t you ‘oh, really?’ me like that. is this how it’s gonna be? the two of you gangin’ up on me from now on? because i don’t think i like it very much.” he slouched back against the couch, folding his arms across his chest. 

“yes, you do.” you and ellie chirped back at the same time, giving each other a grin as joel shook his head. he muttered something under his breath before standing up, adjusting his jeans as he did. ellie hopped up from her chair, too, rubbing her hands on her stomach. “can we get something from the tipsy bison? i’m starving.” 

“sure, kid.” joel responded, ruffling her hair as she passed by him. she didn’t even bother to wave goodbye before she moved out the front door, leaving joel and you alone again. he glanced at the door until it was shut before turning back your way, placing his hand under your chin to lift your gaze up to him.

“we’ll talk about this later, yeah?” he asked, his brown eyes soft as they focused on your face. you simply nodded, finding yourself shifting up on your knees so that you could kiss him one more time. joel sighed as you did, nipping at your bottom lip before pulling away. he bid you a goodnight before he followed ellie out of your house. 

sinking back into the couch cushions, you couldn’t help but let yourself freak out for a moment. never in your wildest dreams did you anticipate your evening taking a turn like this, and you were looking forward to seeing joel again so that you could talk. hopefully, talking isn’t the only thing we do, you thought, the grin on your face wider than ever. 

after kissing joel miller, it was decided. you were falling harder and harder for that man, and you didn’t mind it a single bit. 

tag list *:·ﾟ@yyiikes @farintonorth @scarletsloveletter @miss-celestial-being @thatgingefromtheinternet @javicstories @marianita195 @feliciab1990

[rosazoldyckk]

-Yandere! Illumi X Kidnapped! Reader-

⚠️warning⚠️ mentions of physical violence and abuse, un-consented NSFW moments (ONLY KISSING but still worth the tw) and needles.

Fandom: Hunter X Hunter. Character(s): Illumi Zoldyck, butler(s) (not specific)

A/N: I’m sorry if this is absolutely crap. I’ve got a lot of drafts about yandere Illumi, Chrollo and Hisoka so I didn’t really proof read this one😅 hope you enjoy my writing anyways❤️

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"You know how I feel about repeating myself Y/N." Illumi muttured, harshly sticking his needle into your already needle-covered head. His heartbeat increasing as your pained screams filled the room.

"I told you not to engage with them, didn't I?" He questioned, shoving another needle into your skull. You nod weakly, shivering at the cold chains while the burning sensation drew tears to your eyes.

Them, the them he's speaking of were simply butlers, which over time you considered friends after all the things they did to ensure your safety, that's all! Though he is probably no more. Your "lover" hated when you talked to anyone else, whether it was his butlers or even his own family, Illumi hated when you talked to anyone but him. That was the only thing that scared him, that was something he wouldn't allow happen. As long as he's alive he won't allow anyone to taint you, to see things in a different view than him.

It's unacceptable.

"Answer me."

The usual coldness of his voice had a tint of anger in it, which almost scared you, how could doing something so simple manage to make him this angry? "Y..es"

The dark-haired man smiled, a sick one at that. Moving closer, giving a thankfully soft tug on your blood-covered hair, pulling you into his arms. His hands being a bit closer to your back than you'd like. You simply attempted to ignore the sharp pain from the impact, thinking that it couldn’t get any worse than this.

As much as you tried to ignore the pain, it was enough for you to loose strength in resisting when Illumi fully closed the gap, placing his lips against yours experimentally. They were so oddly warm compared to the rest of him, molding to yours with ease as he moved against you. All you could sense was him. The dangerous may strong scent of pine with metallic undertones nearly becoming overpowering and almost intoxicating has he continued to kiss you breathless. It was almost enough to forget the pain shooting throughout your body.

Almost.

You attempted to protest with whatever strength you had left in your body but Illumi continued to cling onto you; the whine you let out muffled from his mouth over yours.

When he finally let you go, he left you breathless - chest heaving while you stared at him once more with eyes as wide as plates.

Illumi rubbed his thumb over your soft lips. Using his other one you run over your bruised back, snickering at your small flinches.

"Why must you disobey me like this Y/N? Why can't you make my job easier?" He whispers against your skin, talking more to himself than anything else.

"I love you so much," He sighed, kissing away from the salty tears streaming down your face. Being hardly able to contain himself in your disheveled state. "I'm only doing this because I love you, because others can and will seek to hurt you. You know I can't have that, don't you?"

You didn't have anything to say, there was nothing you really could say. You were confused beyond comprehension. How could he possibly hold you in his arms, look at you with such loving eyes after doing such unspeakable things to you? He doesn't want them to 'hurt you' but hasn't he hurt you more than they ever could? What could you possibly do now? Were you even in a position to go against his command?

You hiss at the sudden pain from the numerous questions racing through your head. Alerting the assassin much to your distress. The assassin could read you like an open book, studying you and your reactions longer than you can remember. As if knowing exactly what was going through your mind he scoffed, switching from his much nicer expression.

"And what could you possibly be thinking about?" Illumi asked, tapping on your cheek. "Ah, don't tell me it's those fools from earlier. It must be."

You let out a shaky sigh at his challenging tone. He knew he was right and so did you; that look you gave him only confirmed his suspicions. But the little bit of hope in your heart for them to be kept alive regardless of their so called ‘betrayal’, for them to continue helping you get back home. It would be your fault for their deaths after all.

Illumi gathered his needles from your head and freed you from the chains, catching you in his arms as you collapsed onto the floor. He let you go, still staring down at you as he licked your blood off the needles.

Crouching back down to you, he holds your face in one hand. "You'll stay here until you are properly disciplined, I have things to do." Though not realizing what they were you knew they were nothing but good. Pressing one last kiss to your cheek he leaned forward to whisper in your ear.

"Just remain by my side and behave, and everything will be alright."

[venus-giirl]

"Run, butterfly"

Gyutaro Shabana x fem reader.

Fandom: Demon Slayer. Word Count: +1k. Rating: dark romance, enemies, persecution, bloody kisses, obscene words. N/A: Okay. It's been a long time and by that I mean I haven't written anything on this social network for over a year. I'm doing well. I've been fine. I just wasn't finding myself with the perfect inspiration to create scenarios for the characters I love so much. And this lets me down about myself. But now, after finding my inspiration again I'm back and I'm writing new scenarios for the dear readers who read and support me. I want to remind that English is not my native language, but I use the translator for the texts I write. So I apologize for any mistakes in the translation or if you find any "her" instead of "him". I try not to make this mistake and I try to reread the whole text carefully. Without further words, here I bring you a fanfic of Gyutaro as a tribute for being the last character I wrote and the one who has had more support. Thank you very much to all of you for that. I hope to come back with much better writings and with more variety of characters. Questions are open :) Kisses, enjoy it

BEAST

You should not have gone out on the mission alone, at night. Going on your own when you were a pillar might have been easy, power coursed through your veins, and fire burned in your determination. But you were still too much of a novice to ever reach the position of pillar. In fact, this goal was so fuzzy in your life that you didn't mind being a simple demon hunter.

But damn it, even low-ranking hunters knew the number one rule of a demon hunting mission; don't go out fucking alone and without telling at least someone in the squad. The steam from your breaths trickled past your lips in little white, ephemeral clouds. Your legs were cramped, you'd been running for over twenty minutes. And with good reason. The same carmine-colored eyes had been haunting you the entire run. A great laugh with a ring of madness escaped from your captor and you couldn't help but feel a pang of some fear along with a sensation settling in your belly. Perhaps it was the fact that if you failed to escape you might be devoured.

"Run, little butterfly. I'll catch you." The thirst for blood and madness built up in every word the demon screamed at you. In an attempt to throw it off, you twisted to the right side of the road. Several trees prevented you from running in a straight line and a feeling of emptiness settled in your stomach when, without realizing the situation, your body fell forward. A pang settled in your hands as they rested on the ground to break your fall. Startled, you quickly sat up and tried to crawl as best you could across the small bed of fallen leaves that lay beneath you. However, a breath coos against the back of your neck and your skin bristles as you hear his voice croon again;

"You are mine." Claws imprisoned your neck, spinning you around so that you were face to face and nose to nose, with the demon above you. His beaked white teeth gleamed in the distant moonlight that was hidden behind your powerful body. His muscles tensed in a delicious shiver at having captured your bunny. After a grunt of satisfaction, Gyutaro said again:

"It makes me so horny when you run away from me. The fucking rotten blood swirls in my fucking crotch when you do that. When I chase after you to hunt you down." A moan escaped your lips as the grip on your throat grew more powerful and prevented you from breathing.

"Gyu…" You managed to say in a sob. "You…you scared me." Your eyes gave off a gleam of terror that only managed to increase the demon's arousal.

"Mmhm… Did I scare you, butterfly?". His nose buried itself in the hollow of your neck to smell your sweet, soft scent of roses and cinnamon. He pulled away from you slightly and looked at you in an angry glare from under your neck. "Haven't the fucking pillars taught you not to go out alone in the woods? So useless are they that they let one of the best slayers wander alone. Some other demon might hunt you… and that would piss me off."

Then it opens its mouth and its powerful fangs dig into the soft juncture between your neck and shoulder. You groan in pain and your hands reflexively grab strands of his wavy hair. He hums and his body hovers closer to yours so that you can feel the hardness of his crotch between your thick thighs.

You had known Gyutaro for a couple of years. The answer to the question of how he hadn't killed you yet was still unexplained. Let's just say he was infatuated with you. Your scent was the first thing he mentioned that he liked and that he didn't want to get rid of you. You met the same way this whole initial event had happened; a chase. The first time he tasted your blood he let out a hoarse moan as if he was a starving animal and had tasted the best of morsels after decades without encountering anything like it.

"Ooh, God. It tastes even better when it's running scared through your veins. So hot". His eyes lowered to your lower lip, which you were biting as a slight blush grew on your cheeks in a shy reflex.

You had long denied to yourself that falling in love with a demon was out of the question. They had only one option in their mind; to kill. And you had always heard that they could not feel love. Love which blossomed in your chest with every passionate night you spent with him.

Thoughts of the past settled in your mind; the creaking of the bed as he rode you to orgasm, the sound of the sheets tearing under his sharp nails that never dug deeper than they should into your soft skin to hurt you, the sound of his heavy breaths on your neck and soft breaths of your moans that filled the lonely cabin you lived in. And all those obscene and beautiful words he whispered in your ear.

Intoxicating.

"You're thinking of everything I could do to you, aren't you?". Gyutaro noticed your small absence and noticed how you squeezed your thighs together to manage to retain the heat that emanated from your sweetness and that even he might be able to smell. His undoing. He continued, "You're thinking about how I could fuck you on these cold, dead leaves. About how I'm going to make your body arch beneath me and how your mouth is not going to moan, no, but scream my fucking name in search of your delicious orgasm." His weight became even more intense on your body and you moaned against his lips as he came on you with a murderous glint in the irises of his eyes. "And on how I'm going to end up filling your womb with my thick fucking demon load".

You didn't know at what point you had fallen in love with this demon, nor when the end of your story would be, but what was really clear to you was that you would take every opportunity offered by this sinful illicit love between a guardian and a demon.

[green-alm0nd]

I’ve recently fallen into Tech and Crosshair brainrot and we just had a storm here and I was wondering…may I request comfort headcanons of the bad batch comforting the reader during a thunderstorm? I tend to flinch like a big baby whenever I see lightning or a big rumble rolls through but I still sorta enjoy thunderstorms like if I’m safe if that’s any help or writing inspiration 👉🏽👈🏽 I hope that makes sense I’m super shy and have never requested any writing before. Like I can totally see Tech explaining the science behind thunderstorms to comfort the reader and Crosshair teasing them but secretly priding himself in being the reader’s “protector” hehe

Hey anon!

I really like the concept of this request, and I hope you enjoy it!

[The Bad Batch x gn!reader (headcanons)]: Thunderstorms and comfort

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Summary:

You tend to be afraid of thunderstorms, but thankfully, your favourite batcher is always there for you.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: None, fluff. Crosshair's a bit of an asshole but that's it.

Enjoy!

Requested by: anon.

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HUNTER:

Due to his heightened senses, Hunter usually gets very annoyed by thunderstorms. But he doesn't get as scared as you as he's used to thunderstorms.

He noticed you flinch every time lightning struck, and the sound of thunder filled the Marauder's walls.

He approached you, asking if you were alright. Clearly, you weren't doing fine. However he wanted to make sure.

"Ad'ika...are you scared of thunder?" He asked, sitting down next to you.

You nodded and laughed it off.

"Yeah, just a bit."

He understands your fear, after all, loud sounds like thunder do bother him and sometimes freak him out.

He suggested playing Sabaac to get you distracted from the loud noise, and it worked.

Even though Hunter isn't a very touchy man, he agreed to cuddle with you that night to keep you company.

ECHO:

As he's lived lots of things, he's used to thunder.

Especially, since he grew and spent most of his childhood in Kamino.

He didn't know you were scared of thunder, though.

Echo doesn't really like physical touch, but he's willing to talk you through the scariest moments of the storm.

When he first realised you were scared of thunder, he sat down next to you and sked you if everything was alright.

He's willing to stay with you as long as you'd like, probably until you fall asleep.

Sweet boy will soothe you telling you stories about his old brothers, and the adventures he had with them.

He knows that calms you down, and he doesn't mind doing it often, especially since it rains most of the time the Marauder lands on

WRECKER:

To be fair, he was really surprised when he saw that someone that fought against stormtroopers every day and other people on a daily basis.

However, he didn't see you as weak, as some might think. It was actually quite the contrary.

He used to be scared of thunderstorms too, so scared that he'd even ask Omega for Lula back sometimes so he could hug her.

The rain reminded him of Kamino and that sometimes scared him, or brought back some odd memories.

"Well, you can hold my Lula if you want, sarad." he offered, once he realised you were scared of thunder.

"You...sure?"

"Hah! Yeah! I ain't scared of nothing!"

Of course, he always offers to cuddle, since it's his way of showing love and he also feels like he's protecting someone he loves as much as you.

TECH:

He's used to thunderstorms and perhaps slightly weirded out by the fact that you're scared of them.

"Are you scared of thunderstorms?"

He didn't need an answer when he saw you flinch when the thunder struck.

He blinked a few times, analysing the scene before he left his tools and sat down right beside you.

"You see, sarad, thunder is the sound caused by a flash of lightning."

You stared at him while he explained with his datapad de process of lightning.

"As lightning passes through the air, it heats it up the air really quickly. This causes the air to expand rapidly and forms sound waves we, as humans, hear as that sound"

He passed the datapad onto you, while adjusting his glasses and looking at you.

"Does that information suffice for you not to be scared anymore?" He asked.

You nodded, yet asked him to keep telling you facts about thunder.

CROSSHAIR:

Loves teasing you about it.

"You scared of thunder, mesh'la?"

It doesn't matter if you try give him the silent treatment, he will tease you endlessly until you scream 'YES' to the seven seas.

Even though he teases you and calls you weak for being scared of thunder, he still prides himself whenever you silently ask for a hug so that you feel protected.

He has a lot of pride, but his ego grows bigger whenever he gets the chance to tease and call himself your protector.

He loves hanging on to your waist whenever you flinch or pout at the sound of thunder.

----

Yeah no, let's act as if I didn't post for three whole months because teachers want to kill me TT

I hope you all have a great Christmas day!

And I'm so sorry I took this long to make this request :((

(I might go on another hiatus, again, due to everything I have to do TT)

[ttzamara]

Hello there! I wanted to say that I absolutely love your writing and that I think you're amazing and I hope you're doing great.

And if you're taking requests, could I have something were the reader is sleep walking and because she has feelings for Tech she walks to his bunk and cuddles him and, of course, tech has feelings for her too and let's her sleep with him and it all ends with smut?

It's just something I've had on my mind for a while now but I thought it will be better if you could write it

First of all thank you so much love i really appreciate the feedback <3 I hope u are alright too and have a lovely day!

,Second! thank you so much for this lovely request! Im so sad that it took me so long to write this, especially since this is one of my first requests but im so happy that its finally finished! Hope you enjoy it

I tried to inform myself about Sleepwalking as much as possible since i did not know a lot about it - if i made any mistakes with my current knowledge please tell me (;

TECH X FEM!READER (18+)

(Warnings: SMUT, Minors DNI, P in V (Wrap it before you tap it kids), Not proofread, Language, !!English is not my first language!!)

My Requests are open!

5.505 Words and 30.228 Characters

Even as a young child, people around you noticed how you suddenly got up at night and interacted with things around you without knowing anything about it when you woke up.

It was never a big problem, a little strange at first, but they quickly got used to it. Even the boys learned to deal with it. When Tech was going over your medical report before you arrived and read the word somnambulism, he made sure to learn about it and explain it to his brothers.

They were skeptical when Tech explained it to them, Crosshair even joked that he might accidentally shoot you if you sleepwalked through the Marauders and scared him.

But after Tech's explanation, they all took the time to read up on it, so Wrecker dismissed the idea of scaring you so you'd wake up, Hunter found a way to not let your wanderings overwhelm his senses, and Tech found the best way to handle your sleepwalking.

And even Echo, who came much later, found a way to deal with it. After his first couple of nights on the marauder he thought that you would just ignore him when you walked past him at night, but he found out more about the sleepwalking and your behavior during it, by asking Tech about your nightly behavior.

"Good morning (y/n)"

Said Echo with a coffee in his hand as you walked past him with heavy steps. Crosshair snorted in amusement as you ignored his brother and simply walked into the Fresher.

"Definitely a good morning when she looks like a bird built a nest on her head overnight."

Crosshair said, grinning as he polished the scope of his Sniper.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you looked up into the mirror of the ship and sighed. Why did you have to get up so early again? Oh, yes, because Tech wanted to explore Endor and its plant species. But of course, this idiot - handsome idiot - had to leave early so he wouldn't run out of time.

After you went to the toilet you took a refreshing shower to wake up. Slowly you stood under the running water and leaned your head back so that you looked directly at the ceiling of the marauder before closing your eyes and letting the warm water just wash over you.

The warm water was almost like a trance, felt so warm and soothing that you could fall asleep again. So warm, so warm, so coooooold!!

A shrill scream escaped you and you immediately snapped out of your trance as the warm water suddenly turned ice cold. A cackle sounded in front of the Fresher door, followed by muffled voices and then the warning voice of the Seargent.

You quickly got ready and put on your clothes to walk out of the fresher to see an innocently grinning Wrecker and an amused Crosshair.

"I hate you both"

you said and slapped Crosshair on the back of the head, who just grumbled under his breath before you went to your bed to put your sleep shirt on it and make your bed.

After you were done, you slowly walked into the cockpit of the ship and saw Echo and Tech hunched over his datapad talking quietly about something and Hunter sitting on one of the chairs with his eyes closed.

"Good morning guys"

You said quietly and gently put your hand on Hunter's shoulder who slowly opened his eyes and looked at you with a teasing grin.

"Had a nice shower?"

He asked and cackled as you gently punched him in the ribs, Tech and Echo both grinned as they looked at you and you huffed in annoyance.

"Oh yes, unbelievably pleasant shower, so pleasant that I hope I destroyed your eardrums with my scream."

you mumbled and sat down behind Echo on the chair.

"Almost."

Hunter chuckled and nudged you with his foot. You gave him an amused look and then looked at Tech who was engrossed in his datapad. His eyes kept shifting from left to right as he read the article and his teeth nibbled lightly on his lower lip. He looked so handsome when he was focused.

"So, where are we going today?"

You asked, leaning against the back of the chair. Tech looked up after a few seconds and looked at you.

"I found a holonet path in the woods near us that's pretty isolated from the locals. There are some sightings of the native plants of endor along this path, so we will go there."

he said, putting his datapad in the bag attached to his armor before standing up and indicating that we could head out.

"And why are we leaving so early?"

Echo asked, standing up to follow his brother out of the cockpit. The others, including you, also got up to follow Tech out of the ship.

"While no sightings of Gorax have been made in this area so far, we should still be on the lookout, as they mainly inhabit forests and are carnivores. However, they are much more active during the day, so we will leave before sunrise to arrive at the site at daybreak."

Tech said matter-of-factly and typed on his datapad while you fell into formation. First Hunter, next to him Tech, then Echo and you, and finally Wrecker and Crosshair.

"Carnivore, Great"

Echo grumbled. You agreed with a grunt and looked ahead of you, it was still relatively dark, the branching crowns of the trees made it seem even darker than it actually was.

The hike to Tech's place was about an hour and a half long and as good as silent, but the rising of the two stars around Endor made themselves visible and slowly lit up the sky. The place he led you to was incredibly beautiful, an open area within the forest.

Wrecker sat down almost directly against one of the trees and leaned against it with his eyes closed, Crosshair followed suit and lowered himself down next to Wrecker. Hunter stood around in the field and just looked at the sky, Tech and Echo were already walking to one of the bushes that were at the edge of one of the trees and had red berries on them.

You sighed, closed your eyes slightly, and just concentrated on the sounds that endor was bearing. Chirping of various birds, the rustling of leaves and a noise that sounded like flowing water?

You opened your eyes and looked to the left, from where the noise was coming, and slowly walked towards it. Tech had told you that there wasn't much water on Endor, so you walked towards it curiously.

Pushing through the branches you arrived at a small stream surrounded by beautiful flowers. Indigo blue plants surrounded by small insects that looked almost like a nerine flower.

You crouched down gently and looked at them closely, watching their stalks blowing lightly with the wind and the insects moving slowly back and forth on the flowers. Your head tilted slightly to the side as you softly touched them.

"It is called Aura Blossom, the favorite plant of the Ewoks... it is often used as decoration for the Festival of Hoods. It is known for its indigo blue color and for its bioluminescence, which describes the production and emission of light by a living organism. It is also sometimes confused with wisties or the firefolk."

said a voice behind you as he walked up to you and squatted down next to you.

"They are gorgeous"

you said softly and watched as one of the insects crawled lightly onto your finger before crawling back onto the plant.

Tech looked at you and slowly nodded before answering.

"Yes indeed, really beautiful"

You watched as he carefully took a sample of the plant and gently put it into one of the test vials to analyze it on the Marauder.

"Tech?" he hummed, looking up at you from the sample before you spoke again.

"What are wisties?"

he smiled slightly and stowed the probe in his pocket as he stood up and held out his hand for him to pull you to your feet. You slowly walked back to the others as he began to speak:

"Wisties, also called Fire People, are a small, radiant, sentient species native to the forests of Endor. Like the Ewoks with whom they share their homeworld, the fairy-like flying Wisties are fierce defenders of their forests, and the two species are allies. The Ewoks sometimes use pouches full of wisties as weapons against invaders. They throw the pouches in the direction of a target; on impact, the wisties emerge and attack the invaders. They are about the size of your palm"

"The size of my palm?"

You asked, looking at him with curious eyes. He stopped beside you and turned to you and carefully took your hand. His index finger gently began to draw a shape in your palm and you watched intently.

When he was finished he looked up into your eyes and left your hand in his grasp. Still looking at your palm, you slowly looked up at him with a smirk.

"Wow, so so small and the Ewoks just throw them at their opponents, a bit cocky isn't it?"

The brown-haired one grinned and looked you firmly in the eyes when you started to laugh at the thought, he also started to laugh slightly.

After you laughed you both grew silent, a comfortable quitness fell between you as you stood there, your hand still in his and a soft smile on your faces as you looked at each other.

His brown eyes shone so beautifully in the light of the stars, he looked so relaxed and the smile on his face made him look much younger than he sometimes looked on the battlefield.

His hand rested slightly on your hip and he gently looked down at your lips before looking into your eyes again, almost like a question. You nodded softly and he leaned down to you, he was so close, your noses were touching and it was only a few centimeters to-

"TECH! (Y/N!) WHERE ARE YOU?"

Wrecker's loud voice pulled you apart and you stepped away from each other, you sighed in annoyance and Tech looked from you with red cheeks to Wrecker who came out from behind the branches.

"We are here, we were just on our way to you after taking a sample of the Aura Blossom".

Tech said quickly and cleared his throat before walking quickly to the others, Wrecker looked after him in surprise and looked at you, but you just shrugged and followed them. Admittedly, it stung a bit that he left so quickly after you almost kissed, but it was Tech.

The walk back to the Marauder was quiet, you talked quietly with Hunter, Crosshair walked beside you two, wrecker in front of you and Tech and Echo in the very front talked about their samples.

"Did something happen?"

hunter suddenly asked and crosshair looked at you with an interested look.

"What should have happened?"

you asked confused and looked at hunter curiously. He just shrugged his shoulders and looked ahead.

"You tell me."

He answered and pushed you slightly to the side. After you looked at him even more questioningly, he sighed and gave you a slight teasing look.

"When you came from the river, your heart was beating incredibly fast, you were red and tech was exactly the same".

he declared and Crosshair next to you smirked in amusement. You groan in annoyance and looked ahead to where Tech was talking to Echo.

"He was just telling me something about the Aura Blossom and I got scared when wrecker called us, that's all."

you answered and Hunter looked at you with a skeptical look, he heard how your heartbeat quickened again and saw how your face grew hot but he didn't say anything else about it. Thank the maker.

After you arrived on the marauder, Wrecker made a small fire in front of the ship so that all of you could eat and sit around the fire afterwards to watch the light of the starts disappear behind the horizon. It was almost as beautiful as seeing them rise, but the starlit nightsky afterwards was even more beautiful than anything else.

It feeled like you were all watching the sky for hours, telling old stories and horrible jokes, as if there was no war in other galaxies. Life could be so beautiful sometimes, you just needed the right people to enjoy it.

"Okay everybody, bedtime! Tonight we're all going to bed and not going to the cockpit or anywhere else to sleep."

Hunter said, yawning as he gave Tech a firm look. Wrecker and Crosshair were still sitting outside by the fire when the four of you went into the ship.

Echo just dropped onto his bed and closed his eyes almost immediately, Hunter pulled his shirt over his head and ran shirtless into the fresher, Tech went into the cockpit to turn on the warning system, and you just stood there and waited for Hunter to finish getting ready, so you could go into the fresher and finally change.

you sigh and walk over to Echo's bed to nudge him lightly.

"Take off your armor, or you'll be complaining about the neck pain again tomorrow."

He grumbled, but got up to remove his armor pieces. As you began to help him, Echo smiled down at you gratefully and went to bed with a small 'thank you, good night' afterwards.

"Fresher's free"

Hunter said and walked past you to throw himself on his bunk. He was still topless and in one of his black pants, when the long haired man sensed you looking at him he lazily opened his eyes and grinned at you cheekily.

"See something you like?"

he asked, laughing softly as you gave him a bitter look.

"Ha Ha, did you even change your clothes?"

you asked and he hummed while putting his arm over his eyes. Yeah of course.

You took your sleeping shirt and went into the Fresher to change. You sighed, Maker, it felt so good to take off your bra after wearing it all day.

Your shirt was fortunately big enough to hide your butt behind the fabric, at first you were a little skeptical to use your usual sleeping clothes on the ship, but the boys didn't mind. Why would they?

After you were done you took your things, opened the fresher door and almost ran into Tech who flinched when he suddenly saw you.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you".

you said sheepishly, leaning slightly with your shoulder against the Freshers doorframe.

"It's okay, I should have known you'd go into the Fresher after Hunter".

the brown-haired man said, adjusting his glasses as he eyed you in the dim light.

You smiled warmly at him and pushed off the doorframe to go to your bunk. "Sleep well tech"

He glanced after you as you walked past him and a slight warmth rose up to his ears before he whispered, "Yeah, sleep well (y/n)."

You sigh as you finally snuggle into your bed. Sometimes you missed your own bed, especially since it was much more comfortable than the beds the GAR offered, but you had gotten used to it, so it wasn't that bad after all.

You suddenly remembered how you and Tech almost kissed... Would he really have kissed you if Wrecker hadn't interrupted? You sighed as you imagined it. Were his lips soft? Probably not, he didn't look like he was constantly caring about his lips. No, they probably weren't, he was constantly chewing on them.

Tech sat on his bunk with one arm behind his head and the datapad in the other hand as he read more about the plants he had spotted today.

Rokna mushroom? he adjusted his goggles as he saw link

Rokna tree fungus or rokna fungus is a deadly, blue fungus that grows on the rokna tree found on the forest moon of Endor. The sharp spikes protruding from this mushroom could cause the death of those who came in contact with them. The highly addictive spice known as Rokna blue is extracted from the Rokna mushroom. definitely sounded interesting.

Sighing, Tech put the datapad on the side of his bed, took off his goggles and rubbed the red marks it left behind. He laid down on his side and closed his eyes, already feeling exhaustion overwhelm his senses...

A few hours had passed when Tech was suddenly awakened by a clatter, he looked tiredly behind him and tried to make out the cause of the noise in the darkness... with high probability it was you.

He sighed as he turned to stand up and was putting on his glasses when you suddenly appeared in front of him. A soft smile tugged at his lips when he looked up at you and caught sight of your hooded eyes.

"Hey (y/n), come on... bedtime, let's get you to bed."

he whispered softly and he was about to get up to lead you gently to your bunk when you laid down next to him and snuggled up to his side.

A choked sound escaped from the brown-haired man's throat as you pressed tightly against him, he tried to gently shake you awake, but to no avail. As he tried to free himself from your grip to sleep in your bunk, as he didn't want you to feel uncomfortable, he noticed how your grip around him tightened and how your head pressed against his bare chest.

He sighed in defeat and took off his goggles to hang them back on the wall and settled back down and gently wrapping one of his arms around your waist to find a comfortable sleeping position, his eyes slipping shut as he did so.

The warmth you radiated under his blanket was pleasant, your head against his chest was soothing and the way you wrapped your arms around him was something he could definitely get used to. It wasn't long before he sank into a deep sleep, lulled by your warmth and presence beside him.

It was pleasantly warm as you slowly woke up, you sigh softly as you press yourself against the warmth. Why couldn't the marauder's wall always be this warm? A tired yawn sounded above you and the weight on your hips disappeared.

Suddenly you startled, What?

Your eyes snapped open and you saw a confused looking tech staring at you. His hair was all messed up and his slightly squinted eyes hinted that you had scared him awake.

"What are you doing in my bunk?"

you whispered anxiously, looking at him in confusion, he ran his hand over his eyes and flopped back down on his pillow.

"I am not in your bunk, infact you are in mine. You were sleepwalking again during the night and when I tried to lead you to the bunk you laid down next to me and didn't let me go, so i had no choice but to let you sleep in my bed. Well, I could have carried you over to your bunk, but after you held me so tightly it seemed like your consciousness was looking for a sleeping partner, which in that case was me. ".

he answered softly and closed his eyes again, he sighed lightly and pulled the blanket over you again.

"I'm so sorry tech"

you whispered embarrassed and started to push yourself up but he dragged you down and pulled you close to him.

"Shut up and let me go back to sleep"

He whispered and exhaled deeply. But suddenly his eyes snapped open and he looked at you shyly "unless of course you don't want to".

You smile softly at him and turn your back to him, pulling his arm around you so that he would put it back around your waist. He sighs contentedly and presses his nose gently into your hair before inhaling deeply, your scent occupies his senses in the best ways and he couldn't imagine anything better at the moment.

You almost fell back asleep, but you heard Tech huff in annoyance behind you and noticed him trying to turn away from you.

"You okay?"

You asked softly, turning your head slightly to the side to look at him. He blushed slightly as he looked at you and nodded.

"Come back, you're nice and warm"

You pleaded, tugging lightly on his arm. Tech gulped nervously, but settled back down on the mattress, this time with a much bigger gap between you two.

Tech seemed to close his eyes again and you tried the same. but your back started to get cold without his warm body and your body yearned for his warmth, which is why you scooted back a bit and pressed your back against his chest.

The brown-haired man's grip around your hips tightened and a slight mewl escaped him.

"Meshla, please just stay like that".

Oh? Ohhh.

Your eyes widened slightly as you realized why he was so nervous, it was far from the first time you had ever seen one of the guys with a hard-on, but it was the first time it seemed like you were the reason. were you even the reason?

"Tech?"

you whispered softly and he cleared his throat before humming lightly.

"Would you allow me?"

you asked and a soft blush rose to your face you looked in front of you at the bed and saw that Echo was already awake, wreckers bed under yours was empty as well.

"allow wha- Ohh"

he asked confused but you gently grinded your butt against his crotch and he moaned softly.

The brown haired man whispered a soft 'yes' against your neck and started to grind against your butt, you followed his movements and heard him sigh as he pressed his nose into your neck and started to spread soft kisses on it.

His hands moved your hips firmly against his movements and he moaned softly, a warm shiver ran down your spine as he moaned your name and a pleasant warmth began to form between your legs.

"(y/n), please"

he rasped and you turned to him, he pressed his lips directly against yours and engaged you in a passionate kiss, his lips were warm, slightly chapped and moved strongly against yours.

He continued to rub his cock against you and his leg gently drove between your legs to let you gently grind on it.

you moaned softly into the kiss as you felt the pressure of his thigh against your crotch and he took the opportunity to press his tongue through your lips into your mouth to fight with yours for dominance.

His hand gently drove up to your neck to press you tighter against him, groaning into the kiss as you lightly bit his lower lip. His other hand slowly traveled under your shirt up to your breasts and he gently cupped one of them in his hand.

You moaned as you pulled away from the kiss and looked up at him. His eyes were hooded and his pupils were blown wide as his right thumb stroked your lips seductively.

"I want you so bad"

you pleaded, biting lightly on his thumb, he groaned as you ran your tongue over his fingertip.

He straightened up and climbed on top of you, with his arms on the sides of your head, to kiss you again. You sighed into the kiss and your hands went to the hair at the nape of his neck to pull it harshly.

He groaned as an annoyed grumble sounded over his bed. You jumped apart as long legs came into view on the outer side of his bed.

Crosshair jumped off his bunk with a small thud and looked at you both with a snide look. He had just woken up, his eyes still rimmed with sleeping sand and a tired look was in his narrowed eyes.

"It's fucking morning you perverts, you can't even sleep here without being woken up by two fuckers."

"It's not like I'm always walking in on you when you're enjoying yourself"

Tech sneered and Crosshair scoffed as he walks out of the room grumbling

You looked after him with a horrified expression and looked at Tech in shock, who in turn looked at you with an embarrassed grin.

"He'll definitely tell the others."

you muttered and Tech nodded in agreement, well shit.

"Theoretically speaking, if he tells the others, until you and I are done, no one else is going to come in here and interrupt us."

he said reassuringly, grinning at you as you gave him a smug look.

You firmly tug him towards you and press your lips against his while wrapping your legs around his hips and grind his dick against your pelvis.

He groaned when he noticed the wetness through your panties, his hand went down to your underwear and gently pulled them down.

"I bet you taste better than anything I've ever eaten".

he whispered against your lips and ran his finger through your labia, gently picking up wetness, and brought his finger to his mouth.

Your breath caught in your throat as you watched him eagerly lick your cum from his fingers, convinced that you had never seen anything so erotic.

He moved to climb between your legs but you held him by his shoulder.

"Another time, please I need you so much".

He looked up and looked deep into your eyes, you looked heavenly from this perspective. Your still dressed upper body moved with deep breaths, your hooded gaze and your red swollen lips.

Techs cheeks reddened as you sat up and pulled your shirt over your head, your breasts jiggling slightly as you threw your shirt to the side and he smiled in response.

"What, you see something you like?"

you asked, and he cleared his throat.

"Plenty."

the brown-haired man replied, crawling up to you again to engage you in another passionate kiss. His left hand lightly squeezed your left breast and you panted as an electric shock ran down your spine.

Your hand went under the fabric of his pants and grabbed his cock in a gentle grip. He groaned and his hips thrust forward, the brown-haired man's lips parted from yours as he felt the pleasure of your hand movement and his forehead fell on your shoulder.

He gasped as his hips bucked with your motions and you placed gentle kisses on the side of his neck.

"kark, stop please i don't want to cum yet."

he panted and pushed your hand out of his pants. He frantically tried to get out of them and carelessly tossed them aside as he turned his gaze to you again.

you looked up at him with hooded eyes and put your palm to his cheek to kiss him again, your lips parted from his to whisper

"Please tech, fuck me...I have an implant".

He grunted, grabbing his cock to guide it to your hole and smearing your moisture on his member before gently guiding the head in.

You gasp as he slowly pushes in and clasps your hands behind his neck, he puts his forehead against your collarbone and moans softly.

"Maker, you feel divine!"

moaned the brown-haired man and intertwined your left hand with his.

You both gasp as he bottoms out. It felt so intense, you could feel every vein and felt him pulsing lightly inside you.

His grip on your hand tightened gently and he gasped as your insides tightened.

"mhh, please move tech"

Tech drove out lightly and then pushed softly into you. He started with light movements and his rhythm accelerated steadily, his lips enclosed one of your nipples and started to suck gently.

You gently tried to suppress your noises so as not to disturb the others and squeaky breathy moans escaped your throat.

"Please more, you feel so good".

Your head fell back as tech began to lightly nip at your throat in response to your request. His thrusts slowed down a bit, but got harder and the hand that was intertwined with yours went gently down to your clit to run firm circles on it.

A high-pitched moan escaped you and you pressed your lips tightly together to avoid another slip.

Your legs crossed behind Tech's hips to press him closer to you, whereupon he slightly changed your position and lifted your hips a little higher.

The new angle broke your will to suppress your sounds and your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your nails clawed down the brown-haired man's back.

Tech moaned against your mouth as the grasp of your walls tightened, your sounds blurred together and hot breath escaped your mouths.

"Come for me Cyare, please" (beloved)

he spoke breathy against your throat and the rhythm on your clit increased, he bit gently into your throat to leave a mark.

Your insides grew warm and a pleasurable pressure exerted inside your belly, a bond whose knot became tighter and tighter.

tighter and tighter, until it became harder and harder to breathe, white spots appeared in your gaze and your eyes closed as he gently pinched your nipple.

He whispered softly against your neck again and pressed a soft kiss against your forehead afterwards.

It suddenly felt so quiet, like the calm before the storm, and it took you a few seconds to realize how he was taking care of you, from the gentle movements on your clit to the hard thrusts of his cock inside you.

Your gaze slowly turned to the brown-haired man, his hair wildly disheveled and his eyes squeezed tightly shut, his hot breath hitting your neck and his movements faltered as he looked up at you.

you whispered and a loud moan escaped his lips as he heard you speak his native language.

"olaror ti ni ner kar'ta" (come with me my heart)

"osik"

he cursed and his thrusts lost their rhythm, tech rutted into you with firm movements and locked his lips with yours.

Your hand gently went to one of his nipples to stimulate it and he whimpered as the pleasure ran down his spine.

"im cumming, olaror ti ni (y/n)" (come with me (y/n)

he pleaded and the knot inside you exploded as he bit your shoulder.

A long moan escaped you and his whimpering followed as he came inside you. Tech's cum was warm and a gentle pressure pressed against your Cervix.

"Gar cuyir bid jate, yaiyai'yc ni bid pirusti" (you did so good, satisfied me so well)

you praised him gently and he shuddered as your hand raked through his hair.

He sat up slightly to take one of his (clean) cleaning cloths to wipe you and his cock and leaned slightly to the floor to hand you your clothes while he put on his pants.

Afterwards he settled back on top of you and gently pulled the blanket over both of you to lay his head on your chest.

He opened his mouth to say something but you interrupted him.

"Sleep ner Kar'ta, we'll talk later". (My heart)

He closed his mouth and closed his eyes as you gently massaged his scalp. His arms hugged you as far as he could and a soft smile was on his lips as he yawned.

Your movements faltered as your eyes slowly closed and you also fell asleep.

Hours must have passed when you next opened your eyes, the chrono clock showed 16:47 hours and your eyes widened as you realized how long you must have slept.

Tech was no longer on you, but you could hear light tinkering outside. You got up to put on your clothes and then went into the fresher to freshen up.

Fortunately, your sweater had a collar, because the mark Tech had left behind was clearly visible. Still, you cursed and rubbed at it

"idiot"

you strolled into the cockpit of the marauder and directly a sarcastic whistling sounded.

"Look who has awakened from her beauty sleep!"

the marksman's voice teased, and he chuckled as you gave him a somber look.

"You probably should have slept longer."

you countered and he grumbled under his breath as you gently pushed against his shoulder to sit down on a chair.

"No crosshair, gar ganar at tionir kaysh at olaror ti gar" (you have to ask her to come with you)

the Sargent quipped and laughed as you kicked his leg.

"I could have slept longer if my brother and his girlfriend hadn't had sex in the bed below me."

Crosshair replied, chuckling and crossing his arms behind his head as he leaned back.

You were about to answer, but a voice interrupted you.

"That's your problem Crosshair, experiencing what you've already done yourself is apparently not so nice after all?"

Tech looked at his datapad as he spoke to his brother and walked forward to the console. Hunter looked at you with a grin and shrugged his shoulders as if to say that Tech was right.

"Oh shut up."

Taglist:

Thank you for reading love!

[demon-slayer-chaos]

so

uhm

uh

akaza yandere?

but like

obsessive yandere?

like?

really obsessive yandere?

ruh roh?

oopsies?

*doesn't have to be pure minded either 🧍🏻‍♀️*

"A Demons Love" Yandere!Akaza x reader.

Hehehe I finally got off my ass and wrote this after it sitting in my drafts for literally a whole year.

Triggers: Yandere Themes, obsession, kidnapping, Akaza low key is out of character ITS MY FIRST TIME WRITING HIM LEAVE ME ALONE 😭. I DON'T CONDONE ANY OF THESE ACTIONS THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.

Characters in this: Akaza

Requested: Yes

🔓 Requests are closed as of now🔓

Link to rules

Masterlist coming soon...

🏮- Oh dear, poor you. Dealing with an upper moon? How unfortunate.

🏮- Akaza's obsession started when he saw you taking a lonely night walk near your house. He wasn't out to kill anyone, he originally intended to just enjoy the moons light and the gentle nighttime breeze. Then he saw you.

🏮- He saw your figure and got interested, he started watching you out of curiosity. He knew that most humans wouldn't take a random walk at night, people weren't stupid, they knew demons existed. So it was an uncommon sight.

🏮- Before long, he felt a deep longing for a connection he has never experienced before. He knew he had a past love, but nobody had struct him as hard as you did. Seeing your beautiful hair seemed to always be shining in the moonlight, the way your eyes stood out, something about you hoping first sight made the upper moon fall hard.

🏮- His desire for closeness and attachment leads him down a dark path.

🏮- Despite his twisted feelings, Akaza maintains a facade of respect and courtesy towards you. He believes that treating you with kindness will make you reciprocate his affections.

🏮- His nightly watches soon became small talk between the two of you, which soon became conversations, eventually the two of you befriended each other. You weren't scared of him, and he wasn't going to harm you.

🏮- The two of you took regular walk, and you found out more about each other. Akaza always remembered these conversations, especially with little details.

🏮- One night you talk about your favorite flowers, the next morning you have them at your door step. One night you mention your favorite food? It's in your kitchen that morning, freshly made. Have a book you've been eyeing recently at a shop? You have it now. All because of him

🏮-This friendship comes at a cost however, Akaza becomes possessive and jealous, unable to bear the thought of anyone else having even the slightest influence on you. Only he should be able to see that gorgeous smile, or hear that beautiful laugh!

🏮- This possessiveness may manifest in subtle ways, such as monitoring your activities or keeping tabs on your relationships.

🏮- He struggles with his internal conflict between his violent tendencies and his desire to keep you safe. His actions might range from intense outbursts of rage to tender moments of care and protection. But he'd never show that side to you.

He waited so patiently every night to see you, what was taking so long?

The moonlight bathed the quiet courtyard, casting eerie shadows upon the stone walls. Akaza's eyes scanned around in the dark, waiting for you. Searching like a hunter finding it's prey, except there was no malicious intentions with him. He simply wanted to go on his nightly walk with you once more, it was a habit he squeezed into his schedule after god knows how long. He had a plead and beg for Muzan to allow a bit of free time for him to enjoy with you. Normally if you didn't feel good or an emergency happened he wouldn't be upset about missing such a small activity, if anything he'd still find you and watch over you. But tonight nothing changed, except your presence was absent.

He waited patiently for you in the dark, he was slowly getting more and more upset. Were you skipping out on the walk? He didn't know, until his eyes fixated upon you, his object of obsession, as you went about your evening routine. He saw your figure with a few others walking down the same path the two of you take every night.

Your gentle laughter echoed through the night air as you conversed with a group of friends. Akaza's heart skipped a beat, a twinge of jealousy piercing his chest. How dare they bask in your light, sharing the joy that should be his alone? He felt his nails digging into his palms as he watched, seeing that you went out with friends. Normally he'd know about such an event and wouldn't care too much, but it was clearly last minute.

As the night deepened, the group dispersed, leaving you alone in the tranquil courtyard. Akaza seized the opportunity, emerging from the shadows with a smile carefully painted across his face. His voice, though soft and gentle, carried a subtle undercurrent of possession.

"Ah, my dearest," he murmured, stepping forward, his eyes ablaze with fervent adoration. "How fortunate I am to witness your radiance under the moon's embrace."

You turned to face him, surprise flickering across your features. The unfamiliar intensity in his gaze momentarily gave you pause, but you dismissed it as a trick of the moonlight. "Akaza, you startled me," you said, offering a small smile.

"Forgive me, my love," he replied, his voice tinged with a blend of remorse and delight. "I couldn't resist the urge to be near you, to inhale the sweet fragrance of your existence." Akaza's words dripped with an unnerving possessiveness, yet his demeanor remained oddly respectful. He stepped closer, his presence enveloping you, suffocating yet comforting. A predatory glimmer danced in his eyes, his obsession transparent. He then gently, yet tightly grabbed your wrist, pulling you into his chest.

"Your laughter, your every breath—it belongs to me," he whispered, his voice dripping with longing and madness. "No one else can understand your worth, your essence, as deeply as I do."

As the fear trickled down your spine, you took a step back, a cautious glimmer in your eyes. "Akaza, you're scaring me," you spoke softly, attempting to reason with the man who stood before you, his desire veering dangerously into obsession.

A twisted smile curved Akaza's lips as he raised a hand, his fingers gently caressing your cheek. "Oh, my dear, do not fear. I am merely taking what rightfully belongs to me," he declared, his voice laced with a chilling conviction. Before you could react, a sudden surge of strength coursed through his body, his hand swiftly closing around your wrist. Panic flooded your senses as you realized you were unable to break free from his grasp, his supernatural strength overpowering your every attempt.

As you struggled, your heart pounded against your ribcage, the realization of your predicament sinking in. Akaza, the one you once considered a friend, had crossed the threshold of obsession, becoming a captor of your very being. With a smooth, calculated motion, Akaza pulled you closer, his grip unyielding. "My love, I cannot bear the thought of you being apart from me any longer."

A twisted, feverish gleam filled Akaza's eyes as he whispered, his voice a chilling mix of possessiveness and delusion. "In my arms, you shall remain forever, my precious treasure. No one else shall have you. No one else deserves you."

Terror surged through your veins as you realized the depth of Akaza's obsession, his determination to keep you confined to his twisted world. You fought against his hold, desperate for freedom, but his grip only tightened, his fingers digging into your skin. With a sharp, predatory grin, Akaza hoisted you over his shoulder effortlessly, your struggles rendered futile against his supernatural strength. He carried you away, his steps quick and purposeful, leaving the moonlit courtyard and venturing into the depths of the night.

Your voice trembled as you pleaded with him, your words laced with desperation. "Akaza, please... Let me go. This isn't love. This is captivity."

Akaza's laughter echoed through the empty streets, a chilling melody that sent shivers down your spine. "Love, my dearest, is a fickle thing. It can be gentle, yes, but it can also be possessive and consuming. I am consumed by my love for you, and I shall protect you from the world that seeks to take you away."

As he carried you further into the shadows, your heart sank. You were trapped, at the mercy of a demon's warped affection. The world outside grew distant, and the future appeared bleak. In the depths of Akaza's twisted love, you could only hope for a sliver of light to guide you back to freedom.

[themaladpativedaydreamer]

Dhampir

Pairing: McCall Pack x Male Reader (Isaac Lahey x Male Reader) Genre: when you find out, let me know. Request: The Vampire Diaries (2x05) + BloodRayne Inspo! Requested by: Me (My Insomnia): @themaladpativedaydreamer A/N: So, I'm really struggling to write anything and got a bit inspired by The Vampire Diaries. My writing has kinda been going through a slump so I hope you enjoy this and let me know if you want a Part 2.

Y/n stood at his locker absentmindedly searching for a textbook. “You left this at my place, last night.” Isaac appears beside Y/n, leaning next to Y/n’s open locker, holding out his political studies textbook. Y/n turns his gaze to look at his handsome and taller friend before gently taking the textbook with a soft smile. 

“I wouldn’t want you getting in trouble because of me.” Isaac smirks confidently at the shy boy, as his blue eyes focus on him. Y/n shuts his locker and starts walking to his first class, while Isaac trails behind him. “Thank you. Did you wanna study again today?” Y/n asks softly, blushing lightly at Isaac’s words and his proximity to him. 

Isaac’s smirk broadens at Y/n’s question as they pause outside Y/n’s next class. “Or we could skip the filler and just go on a date?” Issac suggests directly with a shrug of his shoulders, amused and proud at Y/n’s flustered state. “I mean you like me and I wanna kiss you.” Y/n’s blush deepens feeling his heart speed up and looking back up at Isaac with a shy smile. “Okay… uhm, when?” 

“This afternoon, we can have a picnic by the Preserve.” Isaac winks at Y/n before leaving the flustered boy to attend his class. Y/n enters his political studies class consumed by the thought of a date with Isaac. His mind drifts to the possibilities of future dates and being able to call Isaac his boyfriend. He blushes at the thought before he remembers that he would need to be honest with his tall blue-eyed crush, and that scared him a little.

1 hour. Isaac was an hour late to the date which left Y/n pacing back and forth as he tried calling the boy again. He sighed when the outcome was the same as before: voicemail. Y/n sighed disappointedly walking deeper into the Preserve to clear his mind and fight back his tears. The sound of boots pressing against the ground and light chatter in the far distance pulls Y/n out of his thoughts. 

The source of the sounds leads Y/n to the old and burnt-down ruin that was the Hale House. Y/n hid among the surrounding bushes and trees, noticing the truck parked outside the house as well as two people outside patrolling the house each of them armed with heavy firearms. Y/n squints his eyes to use his aura vision, allowing his surroundings to dull and the bodies of the guards outside to become invisible shields of energy. 

“Humans. Hunters?” Y/n ponders softly to himself as his gaze moves to see the number of hunters inside the ruin. “That must be a fun party.” Y/n mutters as he sees a bundle of aura coming from a particular room. The auras were different colours which meant, it wasn’t just humans in there. There were some supernaturals in there too. “What am I doing?” Y/n questions insecurely as he finally stands up and makes his choice.

Y/n’s elbow surprises a guard as it collides with his face before the guard feels a powerful knee slam into his crotch. Y/n knocks the hunter out, swinging the hunter’s shotgun against the back of the hunter’s neck, causing the hunter’s unconscious body to fall to the ground. It isn’t long before Y/n quietly appears behind another hunter, gripping the head of the hunter and slamming it against a car knocking her out. 

The boy treads carefully inside, making careful and purposeful steps to not alert any of the hunters of his presence. Y/n gets closer to the room where he believes the supernatural species are being held hostage. His hearing picks up on the sound of chains and a man speaking, clearly a hunter. He gasps softly, feeling nothing but fear creep into his system when he recognises the voice. 

Y/n panics internally pondering if what he was doing was going to be worth the cost. 

Inside the room, three hunters stand before Scott, Stiles, Isaac, Allison, Lydia, Kira, and Derek. The pack was chained and it was clear that they had been weakened whether that be physically or emotionally. “We’ll kill them… make it look like an accident.” The hunter in charge said with a void tone devoidly staring at the familiar faces of the pack. “Carter… you don’t have to do this.” Derek weakly grunts earning nothing in response. Carter, indeed,  knew Derek when they were younger, he knew these kids, and his son knew these kids. He didn’t know if that thought made what he was about to do easier or not. 

In the blink of an eye, a mysterious figure tightly grips one of the hunters causing him to struggle in shock and surprise. The other hunter immediately grabs his pistol and fires attempting to hit the mysterious figure but only misses to hit and kill his fellow hunter. Before Carter or the other hunter can react, the mysterious figure vanishes from sight before reappearing behind the other hunter.

Carter with his rifle in hand watches his fellow cry out in pain, as the mysterious figure’s mouth is latched onto the hunter’s neck. The McCall pack watch wearily and concerned, unsure if this mysterious figure is a friend or foe. The body of the hunter drops with a thud as the mysterious figure steps out of the shadows to be seen. Carter stares in shock at the figure who has smeared blood over his mouth, fangs protruding out, his eyes are a bloody red with intense veins underneath them. 

Recognition glazes over the eyes of the members of the McCall pack as they immediately recognise the mysterious figure. The facial features of the mysterious person revert to normal. “Hi dad…” Y/n soft voice mutters from his bloody mouth, noticing the either stunned, shocked or scared look on the faces of his father and his fellow classmates… it hurts even more when he can’t decipher Isaac’s expression. 

[louroth]

Hello everyone :> 

It's been a month! it's incredible how much my life has changed- while I'm still adjusting I'm just...still walking on clouds. it feels unreal. the patreon took off and I can almost make a living wage on it which is frankly fucking insane, and the discord is so vibrant it scared me for a moment (not anymore- shooting the shit with the people there is the favorite part of my day, even if I sometimes just leave a trail of emotes lskjdhajksdhkjasd.) I couldn't have asked for a better community. YES I am crying about it. Thank you, so, so much. I am cradling your face in my hands. crying.

But as always, enough of my bleeding heart. Let's get to it!

The first two weeks after posting the update, I took a sort of quasi vacation and only wrote a handful of story-words each day, and spent some time fooling around in the discord + brushed off my smut archive to refine for Patreon. There are already 4 stories up, and a new one coming tomorrow- though I haven't decided yet whether it will be possessive/jealous L sfw short or one very nasty short where you come across a particularly insistent species of vines while trekking the forest. hehe. we'll see. >:3

But, even though I had to rest not to combust after work, I am very pleased to say that the next chapter is coming along great, with the skeleton finished for its entirety, and about 45% and some change already written (it's very hard to gauge because I jump around a lot when I write.) This is the final chapter before the forest, filled with action and the heart wrenching drama of offering tenderness to a certain someone, and deciding for your hunter when enough is truly enough. I have teared up writing certain scenes and I genuinely cannot wait for you to experience this next part yourselves. 

It is so funny reading things I wrote for this chapter six months ago, or longer, because I knew exactly what emotions I wanted to bake in and couldn't really nail it, but now it is coming together beautifully! Sure, it will still be wonky first draft writing, but the core is there and that is all that matters for now. I'm saying soon™ for the update for now, because I am allowing myself to adapt to writing full time- I didn't quit my job to become my own nightmare boss, and I truly want to enjoy this process. I think, in the long run, it will result in a better story. Patience is my mantra. All in due time- I cannot force quality creative work. But by everything wretched and sinful, I cannot wait to share this next part with you!!! I'm frothing at the mouth!!!

In other news, y'all. I need to get organized. I get heartburn thinking about all the different variations of files and notes and notebooks and scraps of paper and variables and branches of plot and just generally, the things to keep track of is getting to the point of a dragon hoard of scary 'oh no I forgot about that part'. I'm gritting my teeth through it until this chapter is out, but after it, I am going to spend some time to

 1) get my shit together in gorgeous, beautiful spreadsheets

2) get serious about finding beta- and proofreaders. (me @ u: 🥺)

But that's it, my friends! I scrapped an entire progress report because I started sounded corporate and listing points which was just... sad. I really hope I evolve into writing these in a more fun way, which would make them more fun for you to read too! But for now, I think this will do. I hope you have a beautiful day/night, and if you would like to see more in depth dev-logs of my writing life, or random sneak peeks, I post those weekly on patreon!

Or join our discord, which. It's just the nicest place, I can't even come up with words that do it justice. It's my favorite daily newspaper.

Until next time! x

[slasherholic]

Disclaimer: This is a repost! I deleted then remade my blog (more on that here) and people have requested for me to repost some of my old fics as they have become unavailable due to my deletion. Enjoy :-)

Synopsis: Michael kills again. Luckily (or unluckily) for you, he seems to be saving the best for last.

Contains: graphic depictions of violence and death, Michael being a mean bastard

Note: this is the last chapter! there won't be a continuation to this story. I wrote this back in 2020 and my portrayal of Michael has since changed. I might give this concept a re-write in the near future tho, if people are interested :-)

End of the Line | Michael Myers x Reader | Chapter Three

(part one and two)

Sometime before Wendy’s hysterical wailing stopped and after the stench of bile dissolved into the background, Travis cut Ashley’s body down.

You shouldn’t touch her, Diane had warned him, but Travis insisted on it. He said he didn’t want to look at her eyes anymore.

You hug your knees against your chest and stare over at where Ashley lies face-down in a heap on the floor, a streak of blood mapping out the path where Travis dragged her by the armpits out of the dark red puddle, depositing her on dryer land, and you cannot say you blame him, not at all.

Ashley’s lids are not shut all the way. One of her eyes still peeks out from underneath long eyelashes, glazed-over and sightless, looking at nothing.

I’m sorry, you feel obliged to tell her out of courtesy; but you aren’t entirely sure what you are apologizing for, and the apology feels empty anyhow. Maybe Michael’s heartlessness is contagious.

Or maybe it is because every fiber of your lizard-brain is screaming in hopeful unison, better her than me. Better her than me. Better her than me.

The group sits now in a tight huddle on the floor at one corner of the dusty court. Travis holds Diane in his arms and stares blankly at the nearest basketball hoop. Diane clutches big handfuls of Travis’ shirt in both her slender hands and can’t seem to peel her eyes off of Ashley. Wendy, no longer sobbing, is the only one not sitting—instead she mills around aimlessly in front of the bleachers, pacing back and forth, following alongside the white out-of-bounds line. Sometimes, briefly, you turn and watch her pace.

Then you look away again and return to vigilantly scanning the unlit corners where the flashlights do not reach. You scan for movement; for an out-of-place shadow; for a shape creeping steadily closer.

Michael hasn’t left the room—not after what he did with Ashley’s body.

Like a hunter mounting a prize buck, he has taken meticulous care to display his kill. He knew that you would find it. He meant for you to find it. Now, you’ve given him the pleasure of observing your individual break-downs.

Of listening to Wendy sob and blubber, of seeing Travis clutch at his long hair and swear and punch the bleachers until his knuckles bloodied, of seeing you keel over and wretch on the ground. You are terrified. All of you. Michael knows this—he is lurking somewhere in those reaching shadows, unseen and unnoticed, drinking in that terror like a favored television channel.

You are entertainment. 

To your left, Josh lifts his head out of his knees with a little sniffle, wiping his nose on the back of his hand. He licks his chapped lips before speaking.

“Why’d he do that to her?” He asks in a whispery croak, talking to nobody.

You glance at him. Travis and Diane do too.

“Why’d he string her up like that? Why the fuck would he do that man?”

Because he’s playing, comes your internal response, as quickly as if you were reading from a script—because Michael’s actions are play. Because he’s trying to scare you shitless and it’s working. Because it’s fun and he’s getting off on it. Because he’s sick and twisted and evil and just not right; and so are you for needing him.

Diane shifts suddenly in Travis’ lap. She pulls away from his embrace and sits upright.

“It was a pattern in the Haddonfield murders.” She explains softly, absently tracing a pattern with her pointer finger in the dust on the floor.

“The bodies, see, they were all moved around from their places of death, and—and, um, displayed. It’s been happening all around the state, wherever there are mass killings. So that’s why people think Myers is behind all of them.”

She continues to trace her pattern and goes silent. The silence is contagious.

Near the bleachers, Wendy is still pacing. You doubt she even heard Diane’s statement. It’s probably for the best.

“Why don’t you siddown, Wend.” Travis suggests.

You watch Wendy walk over to the bleachers and sit. Then, as if the bench were crawling with ants, she shoots to her feet again—climbing up nine steps—plopping down onto the tenth. She stares at her knees and doesn’t move after that.

“Hey. You.”

You glance over your shoulder at Travis. His eyes are glassy and dull. He’s staring at you.

“So what’s your deal anyway, huh?” He questions, flatly. “Are you, like, some kinda adrenaline junkie? Exploring a place like this alone at night without a flashlight?”

His eyes glint with something bordering on suspicion.

“And you just… ran right into Myers?”

Josh and Diane turn their heads and look at you, too. You glance away from their eyes without meaning to and stare at your shoelaces. Shit; you’ll have to tread carefully here, very carefully; the truth will not keep you in these people’s good graces.

You breathe in deeply, slowly, before speaking.

“Believe me, it wasn’t by choice.” You begin, bundling your arms around your knees, tugging at your shoelace. “It happened so fast—I got home from the store, I got out of my car, I walked up my driveway. The next thing I know, I’m being grabbed and locked in the trunk.”

You shut your mouth quickly. It’s not a lie; it’s just not the whole truth.

There’s another moment of silence. You can’t look the others in the face. For a frightening moment, you can’t tell if they’ve bought it or not.

Then, Josh pipes in.

“How’d you get away from him?”

“I didn’t get away. He let me run. I think he wants a chase, before he…”

Your voice trails off. You glance up from the floor and make eye contact with Josh. His gloomy look tells you that you don’t need to say anything more.

From the bleachers, Wendy murmurs something under her breath.

“We can’t hear you, Wend.” Travis says.

You watch Wendy lift her head from her knees, staring right at you. Her face is an unhealthy color and her cheeks are streaked with tears.

“I said, maybe he just wants her.” She repeats with a sniff. “Maybe if he gets her, he’ll fuck off and leave us alone.”

Your stare-off with her lasts for an uncomfortable time. Wendy sniffs when the snot runs too far down her nose. You pluck agitatedly at your shoelace. 

She’s right, in a certain way, your inner-voice chimes in. Michael does want you.

But some bitter part of you wants to tell her, He wants you too. He wants you Wendy, and he is going to get you, and once he’s caught you you’re going to beg him and cry until the tears won’t come out anymore, and guess what Wendy? If you’re lucky he’ll kill you quick—and if you’re not, he’ll do it slowly. If you’re unlucky, Wendy, Michael will kill you over the course of many long months, and it will hurt far worse than that knife would have, because by then you won’t just fear him, Wendy, but you’ll love the sick evil bastard too, he’ll make sure of it—and when your time comes those tears won’t just be terror and fear, Wendy, they will also be the coldest, loneliest heartbreak.

You are so lost in your spiteful fantasy that it takes you a moment to realize the room has gone deathly quiet. As if Wendy’s suggestion is a cool and logical point and not-at-all the desperate petitioning of a girl terrified for her life. As if offering you up to Michael like a sacrificial lamb is a perfectly sane thing to do.

But no, it’s really happening—you can tell by just their stern and guilty faces that the people huddled around you are seriously considering it. 

You speak up for yourself before they get to thinking too hard.

“Alright, maybe he does just want me” You tell Wendy. “But what if you’re wrong? What if I die, and he just keeps coming? Wanna know what happens then?”

Wendy sniffles. She makes a face like you’ve kicked her in the stomach. Her eyes scrunch up like she’s about to cry again. You don’t care.

“If I’m dead, and you’re wrong, then you’re gonna be next.”

Wendy makes a choked sound and now she’s crying again. She buries her head in her knees and her body heaves silently.

At your exchange, Diane shakes her head in frustration. She clambers out of Travis’ lap and rises to her feet like there’s a fire beneath her ass.

“Alright, come on, everyone up.”

An awkward moment passes where nobody moves. She snaps her fingers in a huffy way.

“Come on, I’m dead serious! We’re gonna tear out each other’s throats if we stay here. We need a plan to get out.”

You gaze solemnly up at Diane, and some defeatist part of you says that it isn’t even worth trying. Michael will get what he wants. Michael always gets what he wants. It’s in his nature and he’s very good at it.

You clamber to your feet anyway, because Diane is right—wherever Michael is lurking in this vast, empty room, it is only a matter of time before he grows bored of watching.

And no matter how much your rational brain has accepted it, you do not want to die tonight.

One by one the others follow your lead, clambering languidly to their feet. Travis first, then Josh. Only Wendy doesn’t get up—from the bleachers, she murmurs that she can hear just fine from where she is.

You get to planning. It turns out that Travis is some kind of urban explorer, and he’s been to the school before. According to him the only exit (and entrance) that hasn’t been blocked off or boarded up over the years is the one they all came in through. The same exit that Michael drove you in through.

“That’s the way we gotta go.” Travis says to the huddle-up, like a football coach giving a pep-talk before the big game.

“We can get out of here—he’s just one guy right? I mean yeah, this is one sick motherfucker we’re dealing with, but he isn’t some boogeyman. Here, look.”

Travis bends, reaching for his hunting knife where it rests in his ankle holster, drawing it out, holding it in the air to enunciate his point.

“If he finds us, I’ll cut him. And then we just run and we don’t look back. Wend, come on. We can’t stay here.”

In your periphery you watch Wendy slowly untangle herself from her knees, rising off the step as though waking from an unsatisfying nap. She begins descending the steps.

Then she trips.

Her scream is jerked out of her as if yanked by a string. She topples in an instant, falling hard, the sharp clank of her head meeting the bleachers echoing in the vastness of the room.

Every head whips.

For a second it seems as though she’s only lost her balance. Then, every flashlight is trained on her like a spotlight. Your blood runs colder than ice water.

Beneath the bleachers looms a dark and imposing figure. The figure’s white face is ghastly in the harsh yellow beams.

Michael has been lurking beneath Wendy the entire time.

His dangerous hand penetrates the space in the steps, clamping like a vice around Wendy’s ankle, tugging with all his immense strength as Wendy screams and kicks at him, trying to pull her down through the gap. Wendy won’t fit.

She aims another frenzied kick at Michael’s hand. This time, the strong fingers are dislodged.

Wendy is on her feet again incredibly fast, pulling her leg out of the gap. She starts frantically down the bleachers, limping.

“Go!” Travis screams, at her, at everyone.

You go. It is a mad scramble for the far door. Travis half-carries Wendy, the two of them lagging behind.

You burst through the exit doors and Josh and Diane are in your wake. Behind you, Travis screams to hold it open, hold it open.

There is a single moment where you gaze back into the dark court and see The Shape approaching, cutting through the darkness like a ship gliding through water, utterly unstoppable.

Travis and Diane collapse through the doors. Immediately Diane swings them shut. She throws her body up against the wood.

“Hold them! Hold them!”

Everybody braces against the doors. The squeak of Michael’s bootsteps over the court booms thunderously, closer and closer, and then—

He kicks.

Your temple slams against the wood. The doors rattle horribly.

He kicks again. His force is explosive. Monstrous. Unbelievable. He does it again. And again. The onslaught does not stop or slow. Wendy screams. Josh is crying. Your combined weight won’t be enough—with every kick Michael is opening the door a few inches further.

Head whipping around, you scan the dark hallway frantically. When you see your saving grace you can hardly see it—the flashlights all hang in occupied hands—but squinting, you know that it is there and not some figment of your desperate imagination. Against the base of the opposite wall lies a thick slab of wood.

You scramble away from the door. Somewhere behind you Travis yells at you to “get your ass back here.” Plank in hand, you scramble back.

Michael kicks again. This time the doors open a little too wide, wide enough for his vicious hand to shoot through the gap. The hand closes around Josh’s hoodie and yanks him violently upward, sweeping him clean off his feet, into the air, effortless. Josh flails and screams.

Travis cries out and swipes at the hand with his knife.

The hand lets go, bloodied now, retreating through the gap again.

“Just a little longer!” You scream, and jam the plank through the handle bars. A tight fit.

Everybody scrambles away from the door. The thunderous kicking on the other side doesn’t slow—it picks up furiously, the doorframe trembling, the walls shuddering feverishly, and for a moment you are sure that Michael in his hideous strength is going to bring the very building down around you. You hold your breath.

But the plank holds dutifully. And the doors do not open another inch.

All at once, the kicking stops.

Everybody drinks in big gulps of air, and nobody moves for a while. Waiting for the dreadful moment when it all starts up again. Waiting for Michael to kick harder this time and deliver the final blow that will twist the doors clean off their hinges. Wendy makes little pained sounds from her heap against the wall. Josh whimpers and shakes like a leaf. Your hands are balled into white-knuckled fists.

…but the silence prevails. The kicking is over. Michael is gone.

Travis is the first to shake off the thick stupor.

“We have to move.” He says, gripping his knife. “He’s just coming around the back. We have to move.”

Wendy sobs in pain as Travis dips down and scoops her up beneath her armpit, dragging her hastily to her feet.

You run again—not alone this time, you think, but as a herd, a herd of terrified animals, barreling through the blackness as fast as Wendy’s injured ankle will allow.

Josh has a breakdown as you run.

“He was in there that whole time.” He keeps repeating, a skipping record-player. “That whole goddamned time, he was just watching us that whole goddamned time.”

“Stop it.” Travis pants between deep, gasping breaths. “Just stop it. I can’t take that anymore. He can’t catch up. We’re gonna be fine. As long as we just. Keep moving.”

All at once there is no more hallway. You’ve reached the end. You double over in a pant, planting your hands on your knees.

Travis was right—there is a door here. Diane shines her flashlight up at it, illuminating the glass pane, and through it you can see the hallway on the other side. Your eyes go wide in recognition.

There, beyond the door, down the hallway, you can see your car, and the pale moonlight filtering in. Your heart leaps into your throat. You can see the exit. Then, you look a little harder and your heart sinks again.

On the other side of the door a blockade of desks and chairs is piled high, a cruel barricade.

Travis shrugs Wendy onto her own two feet, who grimaces as her ankle grazes the floor. He lunges for the door handle, pulling back and forth savagely, as hard as he can.

There’s no give.

He pounds his flashlight hard against the glass in frustration.

“Fuck!” He shouts, his hot breath fogging over the glass. “Fuck! This wasn’t here last time! Fuck!”

“Are we stuck?” Wendy sobs.

“Most of the classrooms have two entrances, don’t they?” Diane asks. “There are open hallways on the other sides of all these rooms, right? Travis, isn’t that right? We can cross through one! They can’t all be blocked!”

Travis locks his hands together on top of his head, shaking it profusely.

“No, no. Most of the classrooms are locked up.”

“Wait.” Josh’s voice trembles, hoarse from crying. “Wait, I think I saw an open one.” He jerks his thumb into the blackness behind you.

“Back there.”

Josh is right; you saw it too. It was a blur, it happened so fast, but yes, you’re sure of it—one of the classrooms had been wide-open.

“You think?” Travis asks. “Or you know? Because “think” isn’t gonna cut it right now, man!”

“He’s right.” You interject. “I saw it too. It’s maybe three-hundred feet back.”

Travis looks from Josh to you. Then back at Josh.

“You guys are positive? Totally positive?”

Both of you nod.

“Okay. Okay, let’s move.”

Wendy, supporting herself against the wall, utters a thin little cry, as if the thought of that is too unbearable to even imagine.

“No!  We can’t go back that way! He’s down that way!”

Travis ignores her as he scoops her up beneath her armpit again.

“Jesus Wendy, look around! We’re trapped if we stay here!”

Wendy blubbers in response, her face a red, snotty mess. But it is enough to get her moving.

Your dash back down the hallway is even madder. The flashlights swing about the hall, strobing in the dimness. Your lizard-brain screams obscenities at you as you run.

Predator this way, danger this way, wrong way, turn around, turn around!

 You shove each and every one of them aside. Just run.

“There!” Diane yells, jamming a finger out in front of her. Twenty paces ahead, to the right of the corridor, sure enough, there it is.

One classroom door is wide open.

You reach it. Immediately you notice what you hadn’t in your dash up the corridor: the door isn’t just open, it’s ruined.

The shabby thing hangs uselessly on its hinges. The metal all around its frame is twisted and warped. A dreadful feeling settles like a suffocating blanket.

This isn’t right.

“Woah, careful.” Diane says, shining her flashlight into the room. Peering cautiously inside, you know in an instant that it’s some kind of science classroom. The black lab countertops are covered now in a thick blanket of dust. Chairs and upturned desks are strewn about the ground like warzone debris, their metal legs jutting out like bayonetts at every angle.

“Take it slow.”

Travis shuffles into the room first with Wendy attached at his hip, helping her step carefully around the minefield.

“Travis?” You ask after him in a breathy pant, still hovering at the edge of the room.

“What.” He says flatly, out of breath himself.

“All that shit blocking the door back there, none of that was here last time?”

“No, it wasn’t. Can we focus please?”

You ignore him, the gears in your head cranking.

“Okay, okay. So there’s only one hall that still leads to the exit? And it’s on the other side of this classroom?”

Travis has already crossed half the room. Josh and Diane follow close behind, trailing at his heels like ducklings.

“Yeah,” He calls back over his shoulder. “Look, I’ll tell you all you want about this place as soon as we’re ten goddamn miles away, now are you coming or not?”

No, this isn’t right. None of it is. The barricaded door is not right. The broken lock just isn’t right, dammit, it’s too convenient. Too…

Oh. Oh. Ice water floods your gut.

It’s too deliberate.

The pieces fall into place.

This is Michael’s doing. All of it. He’s been to this building before. He’s been tampering with it.

This classroom is not a lucky break, not even close—it’s a choke-point. An ambush.

It’s a trap.

You open your mouth to scream. Travis and Wendy step through the doorway at the opposite side of the hall.

Out of the shadows, the black shape lunges.

You watch the ambush from the opposite side of the room, a useless, frozen statue. 

Michael’s knife catches the beams of the flashlights and the gore there gleams. He swings it in a powerful arc through the air at Wendy. Denim rips harshly.

With a piercing scream Wendy falls forward into the hall. Travis sprawls backwards into the classroom, unbalanced himself, but springs up again like a cat, pulling his knife from his ankle-holster as he stands, lunging at Michael, swinging blindly.

Michael’s hand strikes faster than a cobra. He catches Travis by the wrist and shoves him with ghastly strength. Travis flies backwards, skidding on the floor, his head colliding with the nearest desk in a heavy thud.

Michael’s bloodied hand closes around the doorknob. He yanks down on it savagely. The knob strains for a moment—the metal around it whining and groaning—then snaps clean off. His red fingers grip the side of the door, and with a lunging step back into the hallway, he slams it shut behind him.

On the other side, Wendy screams hideously.

Travis is on his feet again now, scrabbling madly at the door, trying to pry his fingers between the metal frame to wedge it open. It won’t.

He pounds his fist hard on the glass and yells,

“Run Wendy! Just run!”

You watch through the glass as Wendy clambers painfully to her feet, limping away from Michael.

Michael, vanishing back into the blackness, takes the chase. 

Travis begins a mad dash back out of the room. He leaps over table legs and pushes past you in a blitz, erupting into the hall.

“This way!” He screams behind him, already sprinting. “Come on!”

Josh and Diane lap at his heels. You follow orders as blindly as a soldier in a warzone.

Travis takes a sudden right, skidding around a corner. Then, windmilling his arms to stop his momentum, you see him screech to a halt. As you catch up, you can see why.

It’s an intersection.

“Which way?” Diane gasps, doubled-over in a pant.

Josh points his flashlight at the floor. 

“Fuck. Oh fuck.”

You follow the light of his beam and see the blood, a shuddery trail of heavy droplets. Wendy’s.

Travis flicks his light down the corridor to your left. On the wall is a sign that reads “POOL” in big blue letters.

“Down here!”

Travis is off again, following alongside the bloody trail like a hound. Diane bounds after him.

Josh does not. He stands frozen in place, his chest heaving rapidly with lack of breath, gazing down the hall after the retreating figures. He glances at you. You make eye contact for a split-second.

Josh turns on his heel and starts sprinting away in the direction you just came. His footsteps get fainter. Then they are gone.

In an instant, you are alone again. All alone in the dark. Alone and rooted in place. Your feet won’t move.

Get out, says the lizard-brain. Get out now while he’s distracted, run back to your car, drive away into the night, keep driving for a long time, don’t ever look back, live in a new state, run away from him, survive, survive, survive.

A tightness blossoms in your throat. You feel about to cry again. You can’t leave; you couldn’t even if you wanted to. This place is a labyrinth in the dark and you do not have a flashlight. If you dash back into those barren halls, you will be blind again. Stumbling and helpless again. Easy prey.

Travis knows the building. Travis is your only chance at escape. Travis is your single hope of living to see the sun come up. The lizard-brain considers these possibilities, ignoring the defeatist chanting of your rational brain <no point all over Michael is going to kill you> turning them over and over, before demanding all at once that you un-stick your feet and dash after the lights bobbing down the hall.

Run, now. Before they fade into the black, gone. Run. Go.

You turn on your heel and run like hell.

~

For every ten limping strides she takes, Wendy’s next step is a stumble.

She sprawls on the floor and skins one knee bloody.

She gets up again, but oh God, her hip is on fire. Ahead of her is swallowing black nothingness and behind her is death. Every gulping wheezing breath sucks stale moldy air into her lungs but she’s too numbly frightened to care.

The pounding footsteps echo behind, and oh, please no, he’s still coming. Her body is strong and her legs are thick and powerful from a lifetime of athletics, but the pain, she can’t take it. The painful thudding in her ankle will not bear weight.

Why is he still walking? Why won’t he just catch up? She’s sure that he could if he wanted to.

Is this another game?

Now she sees a faint light up ahead, seeping through a door. She swerves left across the hall, falling as she leaves the support of the wall, crying sharply as she falls, picking herself up again in a flurry of arms and legs—she pushes through the doors.

Beyond them is a pool. A big bright moon dances on the surface of the stagnant black water. She looks up. There, she sees the stars. The building has a glass roof. She takes a gulp of air and gets a whiff of a dank, sour smell, so much worse than the hallway. Rancid.

Limping forward again, she moves quickly to the nearest door in the wall. Reaching the door, she yanks on the handle and steps through, and—

Oh, why her? What did she ever do to deserve this?

It’s not another room at all. It’s a stairwell.

Behind her, the doors clamor violently open. Her head whips around. At the sight of him, she is nearly frozen in place—that black looming silhouette, the hideous white face—this is a nightmare, Wendy thinks, it must be, because boogeymen aren’t real.

Doesn’t matter, the nightmare is getting closer. She shakes off her daze and begins to climb.

The stairs are steep and she winces hard at every slam of her foot down on the cement steps. Up one flight she goes, around the sharp bend, up another. Her busted ankle knocks against the cement which triggers an explosion of pain up her leg. Her hands are cold and clammy now, just as clammy as the railing. She is pulling herself more than climbing. Below her, she hears his boots on the steps, climbing after her.

She’s reached the top, and here is another door. She collapses through it.

She must have done something really terrible in a past life, she thinks, staring out at the space behind the door. She must have done something downright wicked to deserve this. God must be punishing her for it.

It’s just the stadium seating above the pool. Three meager rows of three bleachers and a rusty metal handrail. No other way down, except over the edge. She’s trapped herself.

Oh, but she has to keep moving. He’s coming up the last flight.

She huddles into the far corner and presses flat against the handrail. Leaning on the cold metal with her hip, it stings her bloodied skin like dry ice. She turns around, eyes rotating wildly, and watches the dark figure stepping out through the door.

Death stares her in the eyes, towering and faceless.

The Shape approaches.

~

Ten seconds behind Travis and Diane, you erupt into the pool building. Inside they stand fixed in their places, gawking up at some unseen thing.

Joining them, you see what they are gawking at. You gawk too.

Jutting out from the wall above the pool is a platform with rows of seats. Cowering at the far corner of that platform, gripping the railings, dread setting her face like a stiff, pale, gaping corpse, is Wendy.

Michael is closing in fast.

Travis and Diane scream at her to jump. Jump into the pool, they yell, in desperate chorus.

Wendy looks frantically over the railing—the drop must be thirty feet. But they are right; it is her only chance. Michael will be on top of her in seconds.

You watch in cold horror as Wendy scrambles desperately up the side of the railing, rising to a stand on the top bar, preparing to jump—

—she slips. Her foot slips on her own blood. The railing is covered in it.

Her hands fly open and snap shut again, grabbing at the air, scrabbling for purchase at nothing. Diane utters a sharp scream of surprise.

Wendy plummets like a stone; straight down to the cement.

The crack is sickening. You see a piece of bone erupt through her shin. Your jaw is slack and your eyes are round. Her wails are agony. She writhes on the cement and you can’t look away. You wait for Travis to go to her, to do something.

He doesn’t. He’s white as a sheet.

From the stadium above, Michael peers over the railing at Wendy. He watches her for a moment as if inhaling her fear. Devouring it. Then he turns, disappearing back down the stairwell.

He reappears at the bottom of the steps to stalk slowly toward Wendy.

Wendy sobs and screams as he approaches; she tries to crawl away from him, still trying to reach the pool. You can almost hear her fingernails scraping over the cement, the meaty squishing of her ruined leg dragging awkwardly, uselessly behind her.

You are about to see it, you realize all at once—you are about to witness with your own two eyes just what kind of monster Michael is.

Michael reaches Wendy and his shadow consumes her. Stooping down, he seizes Wendy by her hair and sweeps her with ghastly ease to her knees. 

The world around you has melded into a dizzy haze and you feel like you are underwater. You can see—but not hear—that Wendy’s mouth is moving, begging and screaming. There is a grotesque moment where Michael lets her scream, and you think that the world has stopped turning and frozen on its axis. It is just Michael and Wendy, now; just the monster you despise and fear <and love and need>;

and the girl he is about to slaughter.

The world starts turning again as Michael plunges the knife through Wendy’s throat.

The steel erupts out her skin on the other side along with a geyser of blood. Wendy gurgles and bubbles, coughing, but not really, it can’t even be called that anymore; it is a wet meaty wheeze, a deathrattle.

The light is gone from her eyes as she falls limp.

Michael pushes the back of her head hard. He shoves her carelessly forward. She slides easily off his knife, collapsing. The red spreads quickly out around her on the cement.

Michael studies his kill. His shoulders rise and fall slowly, inhumanly steadily. Fresh glistening red drips off the tips of his fingers as easily as water. 

Suddenly, he turns. His white visage peers across the room. Your heart pumps away in your throat at a hideous speed. 

Michael is looking at you. Not at Travis. Not at Diane. You.

The mask is hideously penetrating, devouring. You watch him back and your mind is silent. Your body is paralyzed. You wait for something within you to change—perhaps for the hole in your chest, the hole that needs Michael, to knit suddenly shut. You wait, and drink in the evil staring back at you, the dark shape that looks human, but on some level is not.

There is no change. 

With a broken, savage scream, Travis shatters the silence.

Michael’s head turns. When his eyes are gone from you, you start to breathe again. He seems to study Travis intently, observing the outburst as if transfixed, fascinated.

Almost contemplatively, Michael looks back down at Wendy’s body on the floor. 

Then, lifting his boot, he wedges it beneath her side.

You look on in stunned silence as Michael kicks Wendy’s lifeless body over. Rolling her closer to the pool.

It is obvious to you what he is doing, bitterly obvious. You’ve been on the receiving end of that behavior more times than you can count. It is sport, yes; play, yes; but it is not just play. What Michael is doing is far, far more heartless, far more deliberately, calculatedly cruel—

—this is taunting.

This is rubbing salt in an open wound. This is pettiness for pettiness’ sake. Michael is taunting Travis like a schoolyard bully.

And Travis takes the bait hook, line and sinker.

“DON’T YOU FUCKING TOUCH HER! I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU! DON’T YOU DARE FUCKING TOUCH HER!”

Deaf to his screams—or more likely saturating himself with them—Michael does it again. He shoves his boot beneath Wendy’s back this time, disgustingly gentle, as if she were a glass figurine, and flips her on her stomach. He flips her again, onto her back. Again, onto her stomach.

He rolls her to the lip of the pool, and Travis only rages harder.

Wendy’s body teeters on the cement ledge. Her arm flops limply down, wrist dangling in the murky water. Michael, planting his boot down on her side, lifts his head again. The awful white mask peers across the way at Travis—screaming, raging Travis—who shreds his voice raw with every spitty syllable.

With a final, lazy flick of his boot, Michael sends Wendy spilling over into the filthy water.

The body lands with a plop and a splash. It bobs for a moment, sinking then, slipping beneath the grime, gone, except for the ripples spreading out, disturbing the stagnant surface.

In Michael’s hideous stare, you can feel his wordless goading.

“Look; she made it.”

Travis collapses to a heap on his knees and beats the cement.

Michael watches intently. A shudder travels the length of your body—even without seeing his eyes, you know that look. It is vicious predatory amusement.

Then, all at once, as if compelled by some invisible force, Michael’s head whips around. Glancing over his shoulder, he goes rigidly still.

Your jaw clenches up tight. He’s heard something. He’s listening, picking up a fresh scent.

As if forgetting about Travis in an instant, Michael turns. You watch the dark figure stalk around the side of the pool, disappearing through the doors at the opposite end. Gone again.

Travis rages. He screams at Michael to come back, because he is going to kill him. He screams all sorts of obscenities and his voice has begun to crack. Diane watches, hugging herself tightly, crying without sound.

Eventually, his screaming peeters out. Travis falls into silence, spent.

Nobody moves for a while. You watch the ripples in the water until they stop. All is still and quiet again.

Diane looks up at you. Her cheeks are streaked with tears. She looks at you longer, and something changes in her eyes, some jarring realization; then, with huge and frightened eyes, she looks past you, out into the hall, and glances all around her.

“Travis?” She says, the panic rising in her voice.

“Where’s Josh?”