#hand them to me saying that they don't belong there
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Wonderful freedom
In a long time there used to be a group of demons that lived in the human world. They were extremely lustful demons but sadly their bodies were not attractive to them. These demons that craved hot bodies came to the human world. They often lured many humans into falling for their sweet offers. Humans who fell for their sweet offers would eventually have their bodies snatched away. These demons would then possess humans.
Legend also says that it was so greedy for male genitalia that it didn't care whose body it belonged to. Kings, royalty, knights, peasants, and many others were possessed by the demon and used for sexual purposes.
Fortunately, at one point, the world of those demons was sealed off by a group of people with special powers, and the stories of demons possessing human male bodies were gradually forgotten.
When he finished reading, Brandon closed the book. “These legends are so ridiculous, where in the world would there be demons possessing men for sexual purposes?” Brandon complained about the collection of stories he had rented from a bookstore.
The handsome young man, Brandon, put down his book and prepared to go to the library to return the boring book he had borrowed.
Shortly after Brandon returned the book, he began wandering around the large library, looking for interesting books to take home and read.
But suddenly the library became dark. Even though he wondered what was going on, he continued walking to find the book he wanted to read. He walked back and forth in the darkness where he could see things.
After a while, he found a strange-looking book. It was a black book with an eye in the middle. At first, Brandon thought it was just a fancy book with just plain paper inside.
But as he was about to walk away, his mind felt strange, as if his body was being led to open that book, his mind ordered it to be that book, he slowly walked over to touch the book, when he picked it up, he felt that something was definitely going to happen, but he still couldn't stop himself from opening the book.
When he opened it, he looked inside, there were countless unknown characters, and those characters slowly floated out, they gathered together and turned into a large smoke, as the large smoke in front of him rushed into his body, a large amount of smoke entered his body through his mouth, causing Brandon's body to twist, his muscles twitched, and his eyes rolled back.
The book cover slowly crawled into the smoke, and the strange-looking book turned into an ordinary book.
Brandon's body, which was inhaled by the strange smoke, slowly twisted his muscles and moved his neck a few times before speaking with an evil smile, "I confess, I'm free now. That stupid seal only locked me for a few hundred years. Do you think I can't wait?"
A demon that desires a human body like mine can live for hundreds of thousands of years, it wouldn't know. The demon possessing Brandon replied yes as his body rubbed against it. "Wow, it seems I hit the jackpot, this body is insane, these muscles are making me horny," a large tent formed between Brandon's legs.
But unfortunately, I don't have enough power. I'll let this guy control his body for now while I take my time to recover and devour him. Haha, after speaking, Brandon's eyes rolled back and forth, he regained control of himself, and he couldn't remember anything about the strange book. "What happened? Oh yeah, I got the book from the library. Oh, I can't remember. Never mind, let's go home."
After that, about a month passed. แบรนดอนกำลังนั่งสบายๆ อยู่ในบ้านหลังจากทำธุระมาทั้งวัน เมื่อเขารู้สึกแปลกๆ ในท้อง
“Ahh, what happened?” Brandon’s body didn’t listen to his commands, it started moving on its own without his control, his muscles tensed, his penis hardened uncontrollably.
His hands were rubbing his body, now Brandon's mind was spinning, instead of being afraid, his mind was enjoying this feeling, the feeling that something was slowly taking over him, his eyes rolled back, that was the last time the real Brandon was conscious, suddenly his eyes returned to normal.
I'm so horny
The devil has taken over Brandon's body.
Okay, I have to deal with my hard cock first. One hand unzipped my pants and pulled out my big, thick, long cock from my pants.
His thick hand lightly touched the large cock, the other hand played with the nipple that was on his shirt. The moans of a man possessed by a demon echoed throughout the room that only he could hear.
Soon, the new Brandon was chasing after the climax, the speed of his hand was increasing, the rhythm was becoming unstable. In no time, the moan of the possessed man was heard along with the semen flowing out of the tip of his cock. “Ahhhhh.”
Brandon took a weak breath, this was his first release after being sealed away. He picked up his phone and found news of a new park being built in a nearby town. “Oh yeah, that’s where another one of my friends is locked up. I should probably go help him out, since he has the same taste in body possession as me.
Then the devil took a photo of himself with his new hot body a few hours later. The new Brandon was busy masturbating all night long.
After finishing, I must say that this story will have a sequel where Brandon will release the demons that are imprisoned in various places. Let's see what kind of demon friends the new Brandon will meet. See you, bye.
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Here's my piece for the @mcspirkevents Big Bang! I was paired with the excellent @twinkboimler and their fic Jim Kirk's Guide to Delivering the Goods, which you can find here (E, AOS McSpirk, 60k)
Summer just started, and Jim is bored out of his mind. The courses he needs to take aren’t being offered until the second half of the summer, so he has an entire month to bother his roommate Bones. At Bones’ suggestion to get a job, Jim fixes up a motorbike and starts making deliveries to people in town, including a cute Vulcan professor named Spock. But when Jim is beaten up while making a delivery, it’s Spock who delivers Jim back to the apartment he shares with Bones. After the meet-cute from hell, Spock and Bones start dating… and so do Jim and Spock. With neither roommate aware they’re both dating the same man, there’s only so long that things can go well for them before the other shoe finally drops.
Also as part of my Big Bang offerings, I made a fic playlist (below) — partly a love letter to McSpirk, partly a love letter to myself and Fletcher's overlapping music taste.
Thank you again to Fletcher @twinkboimler for working on this project with me, it's been an absolute joy!
Until the Birds Return on Spotify
Tracks and choice lyrics below the cut (contains vague spoilers):
Astronaut | Future Crib
I wanna be an astronaut Fly into space I wanna see Mars from Venus I wanna go to that place And if you come with me They'll be room in my ship I'll take you up there with me It can be just you and me
Afraid of Heights | boygenius
I never rode a motorcycle I never smoked a cigarette I wanna live a vibrant life But I wanna die a boring death
Day by Day | Old Sea Brigade
Time and time again, I think I'm falling through space And I wake up in my bed just sweating in sheets
... Then I think of you growing old and it breaks my heart
Factories | Autoheart
When you found my body by the lake You wasn't sure if I was still alive
You and Your Friend | Snake River Conspiracy
Must we go run through our lives with our eyes closed To the loving happiness that we can share I think I'm in love with you and your friend
My Gal, My Guy | Darlingside
My (guy) he's the bluest ocean, (he) Waits under the bluest sky for me I belong to (him) When I'm in the water
Santa Fe | Autoheart
Heaven sent You were like a present I should not have kept A sticker on your forehead saying 'breakable And I broke you bad
Coat on a Hook | The National
Two days, we're still not talking You're the opposite of an open book Come back for me
Top to Toe | Fenne Lily
So I'm changing all my days To make your nights It's just not right
Pigeon Song | Patrick Wolf
Now the pigeons gather 'round my feeding hand And we talk 'til the evening fades I have learnt how it goes What you wait for never shows And what you least wanted, holds you down like a stone
Hornets | The National
But I don't wanna leave And I don't wanna hide I just don't wanna run Into you tonight
Tea, Milk & Honey | Oh Pep!
If you stick with me, I'll make sure your time is all right If you don't understand where I am now, it's better if we leave it
The Spiritual | Jukebox the Ghost
We might have kissed a bit too soon I could feel what was coming and I didn't mean to hurry you I just knew that time would find our fingers linked, through and through Forgive me, I'm human too
Bike Dream | Rostam
Two boys, one to kiss your neck And one to bring you breakfast Get you out of bed
Don't Go | Yazoo
Can't stop now Don't you know I ain't never gonna let you go
Jenny | The Mountain Goats
I hopped on back of the bike, wrapped my arms around you I sank my face into your hair And then I inhaled as deeply as I possibly could You were sweet and delicious as the warm desert air And you pointed your headlamp toward the horizon We were the one thing in the galaxy God didn't have his eyes on 900 cc's of raw whining power, no outstanding warrants for my arrest
Old Old Fashioned | Josh Ritter (Frightened Rabbit cover)
Oh let's get old fashioned Back to how things used to be If I get old, old fashioned Would you get old, old fashioned with me?
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What did you think of Viktor being revealed as the mage who handed the stone to young Jayce? I remember it was a popular theory when S1 came out, but some also believed it was some other playable character from LoL.. So I’m here wondering if that was the plan from the very start because that flashback confused me before. They really pulled a Howl’s Moving Castle with them a la Find me in the Future, but Wise Regretful Viktor with a beard looked kinda funny
I don't like it... Last week someone asked me about it and I always always always root against time travel, but this is more than my personal preferences. I think thematically it makes no sense for it to be Viktor. I think it only makes sense if Jayce's life is saved by a mage who lives a symbiotic life with the arcane away from humanity, deep in the wilds, never taking too much and always giving back. That way we can see how it DOES work, the arcane isn't INHERENTLY EVIL, but it turns evil when in the hands of greedy capitalists who only take and never give back. There's something so beautiful in Jayce witnessing real, healthy arcane, and becoming so obsessed with recreating it in his world where it doesn't belong that he corrupts it into a monster. Making the mage Viktor, who is his partner in making the arcane a servant of capitalism, crashes this entire setup to the ground. And IMO the mage from s1 doesn't resemble Viktor as a s2 mage At All, not in his looks nor in his gestures or behavior, it was clearly a different character and idc if the writers try to say it was always meant to be him
#eernask#eernanon#eernask talk arcane#arcane spoilers#and like. why give jayce the stone at all then. why travel back in time if you're not NOT gonna give him a stone#if you don't give him the stone hextech is never invented!! yay!!!#man i hate time travel stories#the mage giving the kid he saved a stone can be read as ''well he can't harness any real power out of it and he is clearly fascinated by my#magic so let's give the kid a nice little souvenir'' and that's how i have been looking at it all this time. he made it into a bracelet lik#viktor giving jayce a stone is def ''ok kid you HAVE to invent hextech''
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It's like an itch he can't scratch. A thought far away, but something that he can still see in the distance. Where there is sense, he doesn't have it in him, not when she's laying there, soft, sweet, perfect pair of thighs perched up for him as she rests on her tummy there.
That's the thing about desire, right? It comes even when you don't want it to. It feeds, because it has to, because it needs to survive. To keep you alive. Simon is nothing if he isn't someone that takes when there is something that he needs (wants).
She must be thinking about him. That's what he tells himself. Why else is she soaked under that little skirt? Why else would she wear that here, with his son sleeping just down the hall, if she wasn't playing mommy-dearest? Why else would there be cookies cooling on a rack in the kitchen if this wasn't dinner after a long day on the job?
The baby monitor crackles as he shreds your panties in one thick paw of a hand. He thinks about having a cigarette as he hikes you up a little better on your knees, humming as he pulls apart your puffy pussy lips, but he knows you'd have a fit if he made the house stink like smoke with that baby here.
Gotta listen to the missus, he says to Johnny when he brushes his teeth after a smoke. He knows you won't like smelling it on him, but at least if it's not on his breath, you'll be soft.
Like you are now. Like you taste. His thick tongue rivals your favorite vibrator, he's seen it, silicone bud shaking in your purse, telling him you can't be in his house without getting off because why else would it be in there?
You taste like his wife. He's never had a wife, but if he did have one, it would taste like you.
It is you. He wants to carve his name into your cunt. It belongs to him, so he should make it so. After he traces the n at the end of Simon, you finally startle awake. Like moving through glue, you're slow to understand, but it's hard not to throw your hips back when he sticks his tongue down your hole and sucks, making you cry big, fat sorry tears.
You can't help it. It's instinct. Your body belongs to him, and it understands, so when you heard the zipper, you brace yourself on your elbows.
"Tha's it, baby," Simon murmurs. When he sinks deep, you press your face into the cushions, go blind. Go dumb. He fucks fast, and he fucks hard, and when you whine, he tells you to shush, "don't you want another? Hmm?"
You ask for your panties after he comes. It's sticky and warm between your legs, and he made sure you came twice just to be sure, because that's how it takes, you gotta come, too, baby, give it to me.
You're seated in his lap, warm, still straddling his thigh with his hand on your ass as he watches the baby monitor, seeing his son breathe deep. He's warm, wearing his onesie, with his favorite blanket, chubby and fed because of the pretty thing in his arms. You don't know any better. You have to be shown, taught. He's had to do it before, pretty things too dumb to know what's good for them.
Did it with that blabbering Scot, and he'll do it with the mother of his baby, too.
He puts your fingers in his mouth, and when he sucks a little too hard on your ring finger, you pull it out with a yelp. There's teeth there, marking it, and he meets your eyes with his own, a smile on his face that unnerves you.
The baby monitor sounds again, and you get up without a word. Simon can see it dribbling down your thighs as you push your skirt down, and he watches the monitor as you go inside, picking up the baby that cries, rattling the crib.
When you come back into the living room, you take your spot in his lap again. You cradle the baby to your chest, tucking his cheek there, skin-to-skin. Simon holds you by the thigh, getting his fingers wet, and you look down at the baby's tear-stained face as Simon sucks on his fingers, gurgled and low.
It's like it's supposed to be, you think. Big bear at your back, his cub in your arms. Another one sitting low in your belly, and if there isn't one, he'll make it so in due time.
Desire and need are one here. What is desired is needed, and what is needed is here, in this room. To be wanted. To be loved. To be enjoyed, that's something, isn't it?
It won't get better than this. No one will have you this way. It's the lesser evil. The softer end. At least this one tastes good. At least he makes you come.
At least there's cookies in the kitchen, and at least they're chocolate chip.
unfortunately i am not, in fact, over my babysitter "thing" but i don't have it in me to write another so can someone do it for me? i have a recipe if you can't think of anything
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EVERYTHING WAS A MISTAKE — i. cheater.
⤷ summary: Leaving home isn't hard, coming back to home is, you're determined to find your sister, but Gojo has many things to say to you.
⤷ pairing: yandere!satoru gojo x fem!vampire!reader.
⤷ warnings: angst, abuse (physical assault), a bit of gore, blood, abusive behavior, it's implied that Gojo has assaulted reader other times in the past, gaslighting, mentions of cheating, mentions of death, psychological violence (Gojo is manipulating the reader into thinking that everything is her fault), spoilers (JJK0).
⤷ more information about story: here.
⤷ notes: this chapter is a bit hard to read (it was hard to write too), if you are in an abusive relationship or have just come out of one reading it may cause triggers, so please stay safe. 🤍 (I forgot to post the chapter yesterday, sorry. 😭)
⤷ word count: 2867.
Human lives are bubbles floating on the surface of the water, fleeting, but the life of a vampire is perennial, like the Pinus longaeva, which will last for millennia if it is not uprooted. You let go of Satoru's clothes, to whom you were clinging tightly until recently. The words he said to you seem like a bad joke, but the part of you that knows him knows that he wouldn't lie about such a serious matter. A million possibilities run through your head and none of them seem right. Your older sister is the current head of the clan, she succeeded your mother after her death, she is also married to Satoru's older brother and is therefore part of the Gojo clan by marriage, no one in their right mind would harm her, unless they wanted to provoke a war that they would never win.
In the past, after you broke one of the clan's three taboos, your sister came to understand your side of the story, and although you confessed your sins out of your own mouth without showing remorse, she knew you well enough to know that you would never commit a crime of this proportion unless it was truly necessary, you were hot-headed, not a serial killer. However, there was a limit to her influence, your sister had to withdraw from the investigation not long after, the other investigators claimed there was a conflict of interest and personal motivations on her part because you belong to the same lineage, although you knew very well why they wouldn't allow her to investigate, you comforted her by saying it was all a mistake.
You accepted the death sentence so that her and her family's reputation wouldn't be tarnished by her crimes, but when you found out what they would do with your corpse after your death, you had no choice but to run away. You escaped from prison and left everything behind, so you would never see your family again and would forever be an outcast, but you knew that Gabi, your beloved sister, still had hope.
You fall to the ground on your knees, your heart breaks into a million pieces that you may never be able to put back together, the tears flow endlessly, but you don't make a sound. Your sister once told you: "One day, I will die, and you will be the last member of our family. And when that day comes, you'll miss me so bad when I'm gone, Y/N!" She said it laughing, you didn't care because she was the head of the clan, and just like your mother, she would die of old age with three children or more, but now those words blowing in the wind have taken on a new meaning, as if she knew deep down that it would happen. You put your hand on your chest and lean forward until your face touches the carpet, you open your mouth to scream, there's no strength left in you to do so, only a bitter taste of defeat in your mouth.
Satoru gets down on his knees in front of you and hugs you, you don't pull back because it's the only comfort you can have right now, you cling to him like you're clinging to your last thread of hope, you allow yourself to cry because it's the only thing you can do right now. He's never seen you react like this, you never cry, you didn't shed a single tear at your own mother's funeral, you were like a beacon in the middle of a stormy night, strong and resilient, no one has ever been able to shake you, so seeing you so vulnerable makes him feel he needs to protect you. He lifts your face with both hands and wipes the snot off with the sleeve of his shirt, you're a wreck, but you muster the strength to get up. Now with a clear head, you know you have to solve this problem, no matter what.
"I'm going to kill them all." You mutter, the glow you're carrying fades and gives way to a gloomy aura, you turn away from Satoru, you're planning how to kill these people, there are too many of them and only one of you, but you've been in a similar situation before, so you think it won't be a big problem. "Thanks for warning me, but I don't want you to meddle this time, it's a matter of fa-"
Satoru suddenly interrupts you. You don't have time to associate what happened right away, it was so fast, only then do you realize that he's hit you, you touch your cheek and it's hot and tingling, your ear is ringing as if a bell is inside your head, and it feels like one of your eyes has popped out of your skull because you're not seeing well. You're so bewildered that he has to hold you so that you don't fall to the ground again.
"I don't know what the hell you're thinking, but stop. Now." He gently grabs your face and presses down on your right eye with his thumb in order to put it back in place, and you stand there as if you were a doll being carefully repaired. "You're a hothead, aren't you? God! Are you thinking of killing someone else? I hope not, I don't want to have to do it again." He scolds you, he doesn't like the idea of having to hit you, but you always cross the line, it's so annoying. "If you make a single slip-up, everyone's efforts will be for nothing, your sister's life is at stake and we still don't know the intentions behind the kidnapping, so. Stop. Acting. Impulsively." He spoke slowly and nodded, waiting for you to agree. "Answer me."
"But-"
"Answer." Somehow his aura seemed to pressure you, it's always like this, he says he doesn't want to hit you, but if you keep doing things the way you want, he'll hit you again and again until you stop, you shrug and he sighs. "Y/N... answer me, I won't do it again, so be a good girl and say you won't do anything."
"I won't act on impulse, I promise."
"Yes, yes. I knew you were still a good girl." His tone of voice has changed, the pressure on his shoulders is also gone, he pushes back a lock of hair and kisses your forehead, it's almost as if he's someone else. "I'd love to spend some time with you here, but we have to go now."
"Now?" You hear a pop, Gloria and the children are still waiting for you, you can't leave without saying goodbye, you look around the room for the bread basket and find it completely ruined, you let out a breath of air through your nose. "I couldn't go and see any of you anyway."
"Who are you talking about?" Satoru grabs you from behind and buries his face in your neck, you're tense and stiff, it would be bad if he found out about Gloria, he's not the kind of person who tolerates jealousy. But fortunately he doesn't seem to know, he sees the basket of bread on the floor and remembers the children you greeted earlier. "I didn't know you liked children so much."
"Oh, yes, of course?! So you were stalking me at that time too?" He replies with a 'mhmm', you roll your eyes. "You're awful." You let out a dry, mirthless laugh. "Oh, I never had a chance, did I?"
"I'm glad you know your place." He's so overbearing and arrogant, yet if you had only half the power he has, you'd act like it too. "I'll help the children later if you behave yourself on the journey back."
"Really?" Your shoulders relax, you lean in to look at him, he nods in agreement and you're relieved, but everything has a price...
"But you'll owe me one." He whispers unassumingly. "Two, actually." He holds up two fingers, you choke. "Or have you forgotten that I'm going to have to take you in secret?"
"I thought you were going to give me up! I even thought I would need Suguru's help."
"Of course not!" He shouts, irritated, an icy chill shakes your body, you lower your head and he continues shouting. "What kind of monster do you think I am? I would never hurt you, Y/N. I... I... forget it." He pushes you away and massages his temples, then stops abruptly and runs his hand over his face as if he's just remembered something. "Oh, one more thing, Suguru is dead."
"WHAT?"
"I killed Suguru, he committed some crimes, but nothing compares to the fact that he hid you from me." Satoru lets out an infamous chuckle, you can't believe what he's just told you, but given the circumstances, you know he's not lying, the only person who knew your whereabouts was Suguru. "You remember when you abandoned me, don't you? Didn't you think about me? How I might feel?"
"You weren't the only one I left behind, and-" You start to speak, but he signals you to shut up and stop making excuses he doesn't want to hear.
"But as far as I know you haven't abandoned Suguru, have you?" You feel the air get heavy and Satoru's shadow covers you, he seems much bigger than you or you're feeling too small, you don't know, you go back and grope the tree, there's nowhere to run, you close your eyes and wait, maybe for the next slap or something worse. "He told me everything before he died... so we have a lot to talk about, Y/N."
Mistrust is like a deadly poison that eats away at you from the inside, it makes love grow cold, but it also gives birth to a weed called resentment. There's no fixing something that's been broken, when you put the pieces back together, the cracks and scars of the breakage will be there forever, it will break again if you fill it with water. There is no way to mend the heart of someone who has already been betrayed or abandoned.
Satoru look at you with a fake smile, the corners of his mouth are twitching, a bad sign, there's no escape for a change, there's only the two of you on this deserted house, even if there was someone here no one would come to save you, there's no place you can use to hide, but there's no way and no reason to hide when the Six Eyes are looking for you. You open your mouth, but give and accept that there is no other option but to stay quiet, he seems satisfied with your decision, the smile on his face widens.
"Satoru..."
"You cheated on me." He repeats with tears in his eyes.
"WAIT, WHAT? I never cheated on you." You choke, you don't know if he's making it up or Suguru said something that made him get it all wrong. "I don't think this is the time or the moment to talk about it."
"But I do." He retorts. "You disappeared for ten years, Y/N. DAMNED. TEN. YEARS!" He puts a lot of emphasis on that. "You didn't try to contact me during that time, you didn't even make an effort to make me try to understand your side, but..." He paused dramatically. "There was enough space for Suguru to continue in your life. Do you know how painful it was to find out from him that you'd been in contact and seeing each other for all those years?" He frowns and laughs like a maniac. "What about me, Y/N? I was alone in the dark for ten years. I had no news of you, I didn't know where you were, how you were or if you were even alive, but he knew because he told me before he died." He scratches the back of his neck and bites his lower lip. "You didn't even bother to break up with me."
"You turned your back on me first! You spent weeks ignoring me before everything happened and-"
"Because YOU were hiding things from ME!" He shouts and points at you accusingly. "I never knew your side because you didn't trust me enough to open up to me, your own boyfriend." He uses both hands to point at himself, the veins in his neck and forehead bulging, he's furious. "But Suguru knew, because you told him everything, didn't you? You even asked for help to escape."
You choke, you don't know if Suguru revealed all the details to him, but your mind goes blank like a blank canvas for lack of arguments, you can't retort, because what he's saying is the truth, at no point did you consider the possibility of trying to contact him, you didn't explain why you killed all those people in the first place, you just accepted the fact that he hated you and decided to walk away without saying a word. Who told you he hated you? Did he really think you were a monster? The fine line between what was true and what wasn't was so thin that you couldn't tell the difference anymore.
"I forgave you for killing those people and for running away, but this..." He points at you and for a portrait of you and Suguru on the bedside table, then makes a cutting sign with his hands, shaking his head frantically. "I'll never forgive that. Never."
"I'm sorry."
"It's too late to say you're sorry." Satoru reaches into his pocket and pulls out a black blindfold. "You never really loved me, did you? You loved him, I was just... an idiot. That's the truth. I was just a substitute for him."
You see the tears streaming down his face, he brushes them away with the back of his hand as if he doesn't want you to see him cry, you feel your stomach lurch, you don't have the courage to approach him, it's bad enough to know that everything that happened in the past was a big misunderstanding, to be abandoned and in a way betrayed, you can't measure his pain. And although you have your share of the blame for his suffering, he has to understand that you were on the run, many came after you to kill you, familiar faces, you have a lot of traumas to carry, and you don't want or need to carry the weight of this ill-fated relationship, but you can't help it.
"I expected a little loyalty from you. But you're one of them." Satoru refers to the fame of vampires and their multiple partners, but you're not like the others, you really only loved him, but he's so blinded by hatred that he can't see. You love him so much that you trusted him with your life. "You... you cheating bitch, I did everything for you, I... I even tried to forgive you for it, but then you started thinking about going after him? HAHAHA, I'm really stupid."
"I'm not a cheater. I've NEVER cheated on you." A lump forms in your throat, you can barely defend yourself against these unfounded accusations, based on jealousy and paranoia, you sniffle and wipe away tears that wanted to escape from your eyes. "I swear, I never did that, I-" 'love you' You continue the sentence mentally.
You endured everything in silence for fear of sharing the burden with someone else, because you are afraid to lose everyone, but you also believe that if you had been honest from the beginning, he would have understood you, and maybe your sister wouldn't have had to go through what you're going through now, but now it's too late to be honest.
"You just used me and are still using me for your own gain, you just want to ensure your sister's safety and leave. Like everyone else... I'm just a tool for you."
"That's not true, stop it."
The truth hurts, and he's telling the truth, from the beginning you thought of him as a tool to find your sister, but not everything is true, you also want to spend time with him, since finding him again has ignited something inside you, but you don't have the strength to go against him. You take a step forward and he moves away, you reach out to touch him and he rejects you, it's so painful that you'd rather he hit you, you grab his hand and he's so cold, so distant, as if an abyss were separating you. You open your mouth to beg for forgiveness once again, but you feel a stinging pain in your head and heart, a buzzing in your ears makes you dizzy and makes you scream hysterically, your nose and ears began to bleed non-stop.
"Y/N?" Satoru's voice becomes distant and his image blurs. "Y/N?! Are you all right?"
"I... I... I feel... so... sorry... I... will... tell you... everything..." Your vision suddenly darkens.
The last thing you hear is Satoru's voice shouting your name.
#jjk x reader#jjk x you#yandere jjk#jjk gojo#yandere gojo x reader#satoru x you#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere x reader#yandere satoru x reader#yandere satoru gojo#yandere satoru gojo x reader#gojou satoru x reader#satoru gojo#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x reader
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Hey girl, while I am jet-lagged from a trip, another Elijah idea came to me. Memory-free Elijah (Season 5) meets strong and confident human readers, and they start a friendship. She helps him navigate through his new life, and he falls for her. He also kinda forgot that he is a really skilled lover, so it's kinda cute and fluff because he is nervous and sweet, but I imagine that is something he would quickly remember after a few rounds :)
Btw: love, love, love Kinktober!!!
Belonging
18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
{Elijah Mikaelson x Reader} You needed a roommate, and he needed a place to belong...but as secrets unravel and his dark past comes to light, your new housemate might just change your life forever.
♡♡ ahhh @originals23 thank you for another spectacular request!! ♡♡
8.8k words {whoops} - Warnings: sssmmuuttt, roommates-to-lovers, lots of sexual tension, Elijah being charming and mysterious, a dash of angst, mild language, protective Elijah, soft and nervous Elijah, domestic fluff, dangerous encounters (brief physical assault), Paris, vampire reveals && all the feelsss
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@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2
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@origshipfan @cocoabliss @elishi03
Money was tight, as it seemed to be for everyone these days. The economy wasn't kind, and you had bills to pay. You needed a roommate, which was how you found yourself on craigslist. You were hoping for a good, sane human being, but at the end of the day, you would take what you could get.
The first person to show up for the interview was a woman and her very obnoxious boyfriend. You could instantly tell that this would not work, even if you were desperate. She wanted to smoke in the house and have friends over to play loud music and drink all night. You would rather die.
Next came a middle-aged man who immediately gave you the creeps. You had no problem living with men in general, but this guy made you uncomfortable. He stared at you too much and had a weird look in his eyes. You kicked him out quickly, feeling uneasy.
You were about to give up for the day, when a man dressed in slightly worn clothes knocked on the door. You couldn't quite get a read on him, he seemed to be full of contradictions. On the one hand, he didn't look to have a lot of money, perhaps he was even homeless. But his skin was clean, his hair neatly trimmed, and he had an air of confidence that was rare to see.
You invited him in, and he sat at the kitchen table as you asked the usual questions. None of them he could really answer in a straightforward manner.
"Where are you from?"
"I'm not really sure."
"How old are you?"
"I don't know that either."
"Where do you work?”
"I...I'm looking."
You studied him for a minute, and he gave you a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry. I know this is a bit unusual, and I wouldn't have bothered coming here if I had anywhere else to go. The truth is, I have no memories of who I am, where I'm from, or even my age."
"That's...that's a lot to take in," you replied, not sure what else to say.
He nodded solemnly, his gaze steady but filled with vulnerability. “It is. I woke up a month ago on a bus with no memory of how I got there. All I had was this,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a single, ornate cufflink with an engraved ‘E.’ “I think my name starts with an ‘E.’ Beyond that, I don’t have much to go on.
You leaned back in your chair, trying to process the situation. He could have been lying… anyone could come up with a story like that. But something about his demeanor struck you as sincere. He didn’t have the desperation of someone looking for a quick handout. He carried himself with dignity, even as he admitted he had nothing.
"Okay," you said slowly. "So, let’s say I believe you. You’ve got no memories, no job, no ID. How do you plan to contribute if I let you stay here?”
He straightened in his chair, his expression resolute. “I may not remember who I was, but I’m willing to work. I’m a fast learner, and I can help with anything you need around the house. Cleaning, repairs, anything physical...I’ll earn my keep.”
You raised an eyebrow. “You sure sound confident for someone who doesn’t even know their own name.”
A small, shy smile tugged at his lips. “I suppose some things are instinctual.”
His charm wasn’t lost on you, but you weren’t about to make a decision based on a smile. “And what if you’re dangerous? You could be an escaped convict for all I know.”
His smile faded, and his expression turned serious. “I understand your concern. I don’t believe I’m a danger to anyone, but I can’t offer you proof of that. All I can promise is that I’ll respect your home and your rules.”
You studied him for a long moment, weighing the risks. Something about him made you want to trust him, even though logic told you not to. Maybe it was the way he spoke, all articulate and thoughtful, as though he’d once been someone important. Or maybe it was the quiet sadness in his eyes, the kind that suggested he’d lost something far greater than his memory.
"Alright," you said finally. "You can stay. But there are rules. No bringing strangers into the house, no smoking, no loud music. And if you try anything shady, I’m calling the cops.”
Relief washed over his face, and he nodded earnestly. “Thank you. I promise you won’t regret this.”
You showed him to the spare bedroom, which was small but comfortable, and gave him a set of clean sheets and a towel. He looked around the room as though he’d never seen anything like it, running his fingers over the furniture with quiet curiosity.
As he settled in, you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of life he’d led before he lost his memory. He was polite and well-spoken, yet entirely out of place in the world. And though he seemed vulnerable now, there was something about him… something strong and enduring, like a flicker of a flame waiting to reignite.
For now, you decided to take it one day at a time. After all, what’s life without a little risk?
The following months passed by quickly. You got closer and closer to each other, spending a lot of time together.
He had gotten used to the city life, and you had gotten used to having him around. It had been nice, having someone to come home to, and to talk to.
He was a lovely person, who enjoyed listening to classical music as he cooked, and who was always willing to lend a hand. He was smart, funny, and kind, and you were starting to fall for him.
You weren't sure if he felt the same way about you, but the way he looked at you sometimes, and the way he smiled at you, gave you hope.
You were sitting in the living room, reading a book, while he cooked dinner. The smell of his cooking was making your stomach growl, and you were looking forward to eating whatever he had prepared.
"I found out something interesting today," he said, coming into the room with a bowl of salad.
"What's that?" You asked, putting your book down.
"My name," he said, a slight smirk on his face. "My full name, I mean."
"You did?!" You exclaimed, excitedly.
"Yep," he confirmed, looking pleased with himself. "It's Elijah."
"Elijah," you repeated, testing out the name. "I like it. It suits you."
He smiled, and the sight of his dimples made your heart skip a beat. He was so striking, and you wondered if there was someone out there missing him. Someone who loved him.
"It does," he agreed, his smile fading a little.
"So, how did you find out? Did it just come to you, or did you remember?" You asked.
"Actually... I uh.. ran into someone who claimed to know me. He wasn't very friendly," he explained.
"Oh no, are you okay?" You asked, concerned.
"I'm fine," he assured you. "I wasn't hurt. Just... I don't know, it was odd."
"Odd how?"
"He was angry, and he told me I wanted this, and that I should leave the city for the sake of a woman he wouldn't name," he recalled.
"That's awful," you said, feeling sorry for him.
"Yeah," he sighed.
"Do you have any idea who the woman is?" You asked.
"... I think she might be my family?" He said, looking unsure. "It's hard to explain, but when he mentioned her, it felt like something clicked, and I knew that he was telling the truth."
"Wow, that's big," you breathed.
"I know," he nodded, plating up the food. "It's strange, I don't remember anything about my life, but the mention of her... It felt right."
"Maybe it'll trigger your memories," you suggested, helping him bring the food over to the table.
"Maybe," he agreed.
The two of you sat down to eat, and the conversation shifted to more pleasant topics.
He talked about his favorite books, and his favorite places in the city, and you listened, enjoying his company.
After dinner, you cleared the table, and put the dishes in the dishwasher. And he prepared for his nightly walk, one he didn't want you joining him on.
"Can I join you tonight?" You asked, as he grabbed his jacket.
"Why?" He asked, sounding surprised.
"Because I want to spend more time with you," you explained, hoping he wouldn't think it was too weird.
"Oh," he said, a smile creeping across his face. "Truly, I would love for you to join... But tonight, I want to clear my head. I need some time alone."
"Okay," you agreed, a little disappointed.
"Tomorrow night, perhaps," he said, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek.
You blushed, and watched him leave. He always had an excuse as to why he had to go out on his own, and it was starting to bother you. You couldn't help but worry that he was hiding something from you, or that maybe he didn't feel the same way about you, and this was his subtle way of letting you down.
Perhaps it was the wine, or perhaps it was your growing feelings for him, but you decided to follow him, just this once.
You grabbed a coat and put on a pair of boots, and slipped out the front door. It was a cold, windy night, and you cursed yourself for not bringing a scarf and gloves.
You could see Elijah's silhouette ahead, and you followed him, keeping your distance. He walked with such grace and confidence, the sort of walk that screamed 'I'm rich and powerful,' although his personality hardly lined up with that attitude.
You had a feeling that whoever he was, before he lost his memories, had a lot of money. It was in the way he carried himself, the way he spoke, and the way he could make a cheap t-shirt look elegant.
He wandered into a sketchy part of town, and you wondered why he would want to come here. There were several run-down buildings, and a lot of graffiti. The only people you saw were homeless and drug addicts, and you were starting to get scared.
Finally, he stopped outside an abandoned warehouse. You watched from afar as he walked inside, and a few minutes later, came back out, wiping his mouth. You frowned, wondering what he had been doing in there.
Then, without warning, he turned around and started walking back towards the house.
"Fuck," you muttered, ducking into an alleyway.
You waited until he had passed, and then followed him, staying out of sight. He went back in a different direction, and after a few blocks, you realised he was headed for a park.
You followed him, trying to stay quiet, but your footsteps echoed loudly in the night. You felt foolish, and hoped that he hadn't heard you.
He led you deeper into the park, to an area that was mostly secluded. There was a large tree, with a bench underneath it. He sat down on the bench, and stared up at the sky, which was covered in stars.
You watched him for a moment, wondering if this was his way of relaxing, and what was going through his mind.
Suddenly, his eyes locked onto yours. You gasped and took a step back, your heart racing.
"Are you going to join me, or just keep spying on me?" He asked, his voice amused.
"I wasn't spying," you lied, sitting down next to him.
"Of course not," he replied, his tone clearly mocking you.
"Why are you here?" You asked.
"I like the fresh air, and the view is beautiful," he answered.
"What were you doing in that warehouse?"
"Just clearing my head," he said, his expression becoming serious. "You shouldn't be out here, it's dangerous."
"You are out here," you countered.
He laughed, his eyes crinkling up in the corners.
"That's true," he agreed, looking out into the darkness, his eyes scanning the shadows. His shoulders were tense, and you could tell that he was on alert, even though you were both sitting safely under the tree. "Let's walk back, shall we?"
He stood up and held out his hand. You took it and he helped you to your feet.
"I'm sorry," you apologised, feeling guilty. "I shouldn't have followed you, but I was worried about you."
"It's alright," he said, keeping a grip on your hand as you walked down the path to the park exit.
You enjoyed the feeling of his hand in yours, the warmth of his skin. You glanced at his profile, admiring his handsome features. You noticed the frown on his face, his dark eyes once again scanning the shadows.
He moved a little faster, pulling you along. He seemed anxious to get out of the park, and back to the safety of your condo.
"What's wrong?" You asked, sensing his unease.
"It's nothing," he replied, his tone serious. "But I think it's best we get home, don't you?"
Then the sound of gravel crunching beneath shoes caught your attention. You turned to see a group of men walking towards you, wearing dark clothing, their faces hidden.
Elijah stopped and stepped in front of you, shielding you from the men. They approached slowly, spreading out to surround you. You were frightened, and you held onto his arm, hoping he knew what to do.
One of the men reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun. Casually holding it by his side, as if it was a normal object, instead of a deadly weapon.
"Good evening, gentlemen," Elijah said, his tone calm and confident. "How may I be of service?"
The leader of the group chuckled, and shook his head.
"Hand over your money, and no one gets hurt," the man demanded, gesturing the gun at Elijah.
"Of course," Elijah said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his wallet. He handed it to the man, and the man flipped through it, counting the cash.
"A little light, don't you think?" The man asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I'm afraid I don't carry much cash on me," Elijah said, sounding apologetic.
The man's eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer, his gaze flicking between you and Elijah.
"Perhaps you should let the lady go, and we can discuss this like civilized men," Elijah suggested, his tone still polite, but his eyes had hardened.
"I don't think so," the man replied, his grip on the gun tightening.
"I uh... don't have anything," you stammered, too terrified to think straight. "I...I left my wallet at home,"
"Liar," the man spat, pointing the gun at you.
Elijah stepped in front of you, putting himself between you and the gun.
"Now, now, there's no need for that," Elijah said, holding up his hands. "We're all reasonable people, let's not resort to violence."
"Then, perhaps, we should take her fancy designer clothes instead. Maybe that'll make up for the loss," the man said, his tone threatening, pressing the barrel of the gun against Elijah's chest.
Elijah tensed, and a low growl escaped his lips. You looked at him in surprise, he didn't seem like the type of guy who would react to threats this way.
The leader's eyes widened, and a small grin appeared on his face.
"Ooh, we have a tough guy here," he said, sounding amused. "Trying to impress your date? She’ a little young for you ain't she?"
His goons laughed, and you felt your cheeks flush.
"She is none of your concern," Elijah replied, his tone sharp.
"Actually, she is. You see, I'm in charge here," the man said, he looked at you and smiled, revealing a mouth full of yellow teeth. "Strip. Now. Or I will shoot your sugar daddy in the fucking face,"
Your eyes widened and you shook your head.
"No, no please, we'll give you anything you want, just don't hurt us," you begged, tears welling up in your eyes.
"Clothes. NOW!" The man yelled, pointing the gun at your face.
You hesitated, and he grabbed your hair, yanking you away from Elijah.
"Take off the fucking clothes, or I will kill you both," the man snarled, his breath hot on your face, the barrel of the gun pressed against your temple.
"Alright, alright, don't hurt her," Elijah said, taking off his coat.
"Hurry up," the man snapped, releasing your hair.
You nodded and started to undress, tears streaming down your cheeks. You stripped off your coat and scarf, then pulled off your shirt and pants, shivering as the cold night air hit your bare skin.
You looked at Elijah, who was watching you, his expression unreadable. You could see the muscles in his jaw working, his hands balled into fists.
You were scared, but more than that, you were angry. You hated these men, for the way they were treating you and Elijah, and for the fear and shame they were making you feel.
"There, I'm naked," you said, trying to sound brave.
"Not quite," the man replied, stepping forward. He ran his hands over your body, his fingers rough against your skin, the gun still pressed to your temple.
You flinched, and he chuckled.
"Don't worry, sweetheart, I'm not going to rape you," he said, his hand cupping your breast. "You're not my type."
He moved his hand down, stroking your stomach, and then lower, his fingers brushing against the fabric of your panties. You shuddered, and he laughed again.
"But, maybe you'd like a little fun," he whispered, his lips close to your ear.
"That's enough, you've gotten what you wanted, now leave us alone," Elijah demanded, his voice low and dangerous.
"It seems your sugar daddy doesn't want to share," the man said, his tone mocking. "He keeps pretending like he's in charge,"
"Please, let us go," you pleaded, your voice breaking.
"No, I think I'm going to keep you," the man replied, wrapping his arm around your waist, holding you against his chest.
"You won't harm her," Elijah warned, his eyes blazing.
"Or what?" The man sneered, his fingers digging into your skin.
"I'll kill you," Elijah growled, his voice deadly.
You watched in horror as the other men laughed, raising their guns at Elijah. He didn't even blink, his gaze fixed on the man holding you.
"Is that a threat?" The man asked, his grip on you tightening.
"A promise," Elijah replied, his expression was eerily calm, but his eyes were filled with anger and determination.
The man pressed the barrel of the gun against your skull, the cold metal pressing painfully into your skin. You gasped, and he laughed, the sound sending a chill down your spine.
"Walk away, and I'll let her go," the man said, his gaze locked on Elijah.
Elijah looked at you, and his eyes softened.
"Do you trust me?" He asked, his voice soft, barely audible above the sound of your racing heartbeat.
"Yes," you answered, without hesitation.
He smiled, and turned to the man. "Then duck,"
Before the man could respond, Elijah lunged at him, his hand grabbing the wrist holding the gun. The man yelped, and you ducked down, just as Elijah's knee connected with his face. There was a sickening crack, and the man cried out, letting go of the gun.
Elijah caught it before it hit the ground, and other men began firing, hitting Elijah in the chest over and over, but he stood there unfazed, almost bored, like they were annoying pests and nothing more.
One of the men, realizing his bullets were useless, rushed forward and swung a fist, hitting Elijah in the jaw. Elijah didn't budge, grabbed him by the throat and lifted him into the air. The man gasped, and tried to pry his hand off, but Elijah's grip was too strong.
You watched in awe as Elijah crushed the man's throat, his expression blank. Then, he threw him aside, the sound of bones snapping echoed in the air.
The other men backed away, their faces pale. Elijah ignored them, taking his leather jacket and putting it over your shoulders, before turning his attention to the leader.
The man was kneeling on the ground, clutching his broken nose. He looked up at Elijah, his eyes wide with fear.
"P-please," the man stammered, holding up his hands. "I'm s-sorry,"
Elijah stared at him, his expression cold. "No you are not,"
He crushed the gun in his hands like it was tissue paper, and grabbed the man by the throat. The man choked, his hands clawing at Elijah's arm.
"I promised you that I would kill you, and I intend to keep my word," Elijah said, his voice devoid of emotion.
You watched in horror as he tightened his grip, and the man's face turned purple. You wanted to look away, but couldn't tear your eyes from the scene.
Elijah's expression was a mixture of rage and hatred, his face was no longer human, he had completely black eyes, with veins snaking across his face, and his teeth were razor sharp, almost fang like.
He snapped the neck with a loud crack, and dropped the man to the ground. The other men backed away further, their guns forgotten, the color drained from their faces.
Elijah looked at them, and smiled, his fangs glinting in the moonlight.
"Run," he commanded, his voice dark and deadly.
The men fled, tripping over their own feet, disappearing into the shadows. Elijah turned to look at you, his eyes soft yet completely inhuman.
"Are you alright?" He asked, his voice gentle.
You nodded, unable to speak. You were terrified, but not of him.
"Close your eyes and count to thirty, I'll be right back," he said, and then turned and followed the men.
You watched him run off faster than any human could, and you closed your eyes tightly, hearing screams and cries as he caught the men. You waited, counting down from thirty, and then you heard his footsteps and opened your eyes, his face once again normal, the only hint that he had been a monster moments ago was the blood staining his shirt.
He didn't say a word, just reached out his hand and helped you to your feet. He picked up your clothes and helped you dress, your hands were shaking so badly that you could barely button up your shirt.
When you were dressed, he wrapped his arms around you, and held you close, his warmth enveloping you.
"S-shouldn't we call the cops?" You asked, still in shock.
"There will be no need," he replied, his voice calm and soothing.
You looked at the bodies of the men, and then quickly looked away. Elijah had torn them apart, their limbs twisted and contorted in impossible ways. Their faces were frozen in expressions of terror, their eyes empty and lifeless.
"You're not human are you?" You asked, your voice barely a whisper.
"I'm more human than them," he replied, his grip on you tightening a little. "Let's get out of here, and I'll explain everything."
"Okay," you said, letting him guide you away from the bodies.
You felt numb, and you let him lead you out of the park, your mind struggling to process what had happened. Who was this man? This creature beyond comprehension?
Who had you let into your home?
The sound of the kettle whistling pulled you from the daze you had been in. You were sitting on the sofa, wrapped in multiple blankets, Elijah's coat draped across your lap.
You watched him move about the kitchen, his movements confident and sure.
"Here," he said, handing you a mug of hot tea.
"Thank you," you said, taking a sip.
He sat down next to you, his body close to yours. He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, and you flinched.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he promised.
"But you killed them," you whispered, your eyes watering.
"I did," he confirmed, his voice calm and steady.
"How?" You asked, looking up at him.
"I have... certain abilities," he said, choosing his words carefully. "Abilities that make me stronger, faster, and more dangerous than any human."
You put your mug down on the table and turned to him, studying his face. He was watching you intently, his eyes filled with concern.
"Are you... are you an alien?" You asked, a hint of fear in your voice.
He laughed, the sound a pleasant rumble.
"No, I'm not an alien," he assured you.
"What are you then?"
"I'm...well.. I think I'm a vampire," he said, sounding uncertain.
A burst of disbelief mixed with terror erupted within you, and you let out a hysterical laugh.
"Vampire," you repeated, shaking your head. "Like Edward Cullen?"
"I don't know who that is," he said, frowning.
You let out another laugh, your mind reeling. It wasn't possible. Vampires weren't real.
"Y/N," he said, his voice serious. "I know this is a lot to take in, but please believe me. I am a vampire. I can't explain how or why, but it's true."
You let him talk as you grabbed your phone and searched up vampires. Showing it to him, and telling him to look at the search results.
"Sparkle in the sun? Not as far as I am aware," he commented, frowning.
"Holy water? Crucifixes?" You pressed.
"I'm not particularly religious," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"Garlic?" You questioned.
"I love garlic," he replied, grinning.
"Can you fly?" You asked, wondering how many myths were true.
"I'm not sure," he said, his brows furrowed in concentration. "I've never tried."
He stood up and did a little hop with his arms raised in the air, like some sort of weird bird. You snorted and covered your mouth with your hand, trying not to laugh.
"No flying," he concluded, sitting back down.
"So, how old are you?" You asked.
"No idea," he said, a sad look on his face.
"Oh my god, what if you are like one hundred years old?" You asked, your mind racing with possibilities.
"Perhaps," he mused.
You paused at the next item on the list of vampire traits, and hesitated before asking.
"And the other thing... blood," you read, your stomach turning at the thought.
"Yes," he admitted, a look of shame crossing his face.
"So, when you went into that warehouse…?" You began, remembering how he had returned, wiping his mouth.
"I was hungry, and I needed to eat," he said, his voice low.
"So you just went and killed someone?" You asked, unable to keep the judgement out of your voice.
"No, he was very much alive, just passed out," he explained.
"And you didn't kill him," you pressed, not entirely convinced.
"I didn't," he insisted.
"But what if you did? What if the next time you went to get some 'sustenance' you did actually kill them?" You asked, starting to panic.
"Y/N," he said softly, taking your hand. "I would never hurt you,"
You looked at his face, searching for any signs that he was lying. But his eyes were filled with nothing but sincerity, and a hint of sadness. His gaze drifted to your lips, and his expression changed, becoming softer, and a little more intimate.
You quickly looked away, back to the list of vampire facts, and cleared your throat.
"Mind control," you read, and felt his gaze linger on you.
"Not to my knowledge," he replied.
"You can't enter a house without being invited," you continued, and his hand tightened around yours.
"Is that a request, or a demand?" He asked, his tone playful.
"It's a question," you countered, blushing slightly.
"Yes, but most invite me in without hesitation," he said, giving your hand a light squeeze. "You did,"
"Oh," you muttered, feeling a little embarrassed.
Your eyes went back to the mind control section, and a thought crossed your mind.
"Have you used mind control on me?" You asked, a sense of unease washing over you.
"I don't know," he admitted. "If I have, I'm not aware of it."
"Oh," you mumbled, not knowing what to say, but curiosity got the better of you. "Try to, make me do something,"
"Like what?"
"I don't know, something harmless," you said, thinking for a moment. "Make me sing a song,"
"Very well," he agreed, looking thoughtful.
You waited, expecting to start singing. But nothing happened.
"Do you feel any different?" He asked.
"No, nothing," you said, disappointed.
"I don't know what else to suggest," he said, a frown marring his features.
"I don't know, look me in the eye and tell me to do it? Like... Tell yourself you can do it? I don't know… maybe it's a belief thing…?" you offered.
He nodded, and then turned to look directly at you. His dark eyes were intense, and his lips curved into a smile.
"Sing me a song, sweet girl," he said, his voice echoing strangely in your mind.
You told yourself not to sing, to sit quietly and not react. You repeated it over and over, until the words were all that was in your head.
But his voice seeped into the ribbons of your brain, dancing behind your eyes. You lost your awareness of time and space, and suddenly, a melody rose up from within you.
You opened your mouth and the words came tumbling out, and you started singing an old song that had been stuck in your head for days.
Elijah sat back and looked surprised, a small smile on his lips. You stopped singing, your face flushing in embarrassment.
"Holy shit," you gasped, a strange sensation creeping through your mind, like cobwebs being blown away. "It worked,".
"You have a lovely voice," he said, his tone gentle and kind.
"How did you do that?" You asked, feeling unnerved.
"I don't know," he admitted, a hint of confusion in his eyes. "I just believed that I could, and you did as I asked,"
You suddenly stood up, tossing the blankets off of you and heading to your wine rack.
"I need a drink," you declared, and picked a random bottle.
You poured yourself a generous amount, and drank it all in one gulp. Then poured yourself another glass. You looked over at him, and noticed the way his eyes followed the glass as it reached your lips.
"Do you want some?" You asked, the wine giving you courage.
"No, thank you," he replied.
You sat back down on the sofa, and took a long sip. Thinking about all the possibilities of what his vampire status meant.
"Could you mind control my mortgage payments away?" You joked, trying to lighten the mood.
"Possibly," he said, smiling a little.
"Could you use your super speed to clean my apartment?" You teased, taking another sip.
"You're not thinking big enough," he replied, his grin growing wider. "I would love to leave this city, find a home in a new town and live a normal life."
"I'm not sure normal is something you could ever be," you quipped, raising an eyebrow.
"You might have a point," he conceded, his tone wistful.
He pointed to the artwork on your walls, you had purchased them at Ikea ages ago. They were those generic wanderlust posters of different famous travel destinations.
"Pick one," he said.
"What?"
"I'll take you there," he offered, his voice soft.
"Seriously?"
"I owe you so much, I think this is the least I can do," he replied.
You stared at him, your mind struggling to process his offer. Was he for real? Was he really willing to take you around the world?
"Paris," you blurted out, a blush rising to your cheeks. "I've always wanted to go,"
"Paris it is," he agreed, and your heart skipped a beat.
"Really?" You asked, unable to hide the excitement in your voice.
"Absolutely," he said, his tone sincere. "I would love nothing more than to take you."
"That's so sweet," you gushed, your face heating up even more.
"So, Paris?" He asked, his eyes lighting up with excitement.
"Yeah," you agreed, nodding your head.
"Then we will leave first thing in the morning," he said, his expression brightening.
"But I have work... I need to take time off-" you started to say.
"Forget about all of that," he cut you off, his tone gentle. "I can mind control people, remember? I'll just take care of everything,"
You laughed, the ridiculousness of the situation finally hitting you. He was a vampire, who had mind control powers, and was offering to take you on a trip to Paris.
"This is insane," you giggled, feeling slightly hysterical.
"Indeed," he agreed, grinning.
You finished your wine and set the glass down on the coffee table. His proximity was starting to make you feel hot, and a little giddy.
"So," you began, trying to distract yourself. "I guess I'll go pack my bags,"
"I can buy you anything we need when we arrive," he suggested.
"Are we gonna fly? Like on a plane?"
"I was thinking that I could just jump really hard and we can just land in Paris," he said, a serious expression on his face.
"Oh shut up," you giggled, playfully smacking him on the shoulder.
He chuckled and shook his head.
You smiled and sat back, taking a moment to reflect on the day's events. It had been an emotional roller coaster, and your head was still reeling from the revelation that vampires were real, and sitting in your apartment. But the prospect of a trip to Paris made your heart flutter with joy.
"I can't believe I'm going to Paris," you said, letting out a happy sigh.
"We," he corrected, smiling.
"We," you echoed, a warm feeling spreading through you and a huge grin appearing on your face.
This was going to be the best vacation ever.
France was just as magical as you imagined it would be. Elijah took you to the most luxurious hotel in the city, and ordered a feast fit for royalty. The food was incredible, the atmosphere romantic, and the company... Well the company was a bit odd.
The vampire man, who could control humans with his mind, who had saved you from being mugged, and who was now whisking you around the world, was a little hard to ignore.
What was harder to ignore was the raging jealousy you felt every time someone flirted with him. He was like a magnet for hot people of all kinds, and they would flock to him like moths to a flame.
It was ridiculous really. How they would throw themselves at him, practically begging him to fuck them, and he would politely decline. You felt a surge of satisfaction, knowing that no matter how good looking they were, no matter how talented their tongue, his attention belonged to you.
You were currently strolling along the Seine, admiring the sights, when you noticed a group of young women watching Elijah.
"They're looking at you," you teased, nudging him with your elbow.
Elijah didn't bother looking up from his guidebook, but a smirk spread across his lips.
"I'm sure they are," he replied, sounding amused.
"Why are girls so obsessed with you?" You asked, unable to keep the annoyance out of your voice.
"I have been told I'm... As the young say these days, a snack," he said, laughing at his own joke.
You couldn't help but snort and laugh along with him. He was a complete dork sometimes, and it made him all the more endearing.
He looked over at you and smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He had been feeding from plenty of tourists, much healthier blood than the people he found on the streets of New York. His complexion was no longer the sickly grey it had been. Now he looked healthier, his skin glowing, and his eyes shining.
"Do you think I'm a snack?" He asked, his tone playful.
"I think you're an entire six course meal," you replied, trying to sound cool.
"Is that so?" He asked, an eyebrow raising.
You flushed and looked away, trying to hide your embarrassment. Why were you acting like such a teenager?
"Yeah," you murmured, fidgeting with your jacket zipper.
"Perhaps you'd like a bite," he said, his voice low and inviting.
"Oh stop it," you groaned, pushing him playfully.
"No seriously, I've seen how you look at me. You want to sink your teeth into me," he teased, giving you a wink.
"That's you, Mr. Vampire," you retorted, sticking your tongue out at him.
He grinned and reached for your hand, taking it in his and bringing it to his lips.
Your heart rate increased, and your cheeks flushed. You could feel the heat rising to your face, and you quickly pulled away.
"You're such a flirt," you finally managed, shaking your head. "I bet if you kissed the hand of one of those girls over there, they would swoon right into the river,"
"I could," he agreed, looking at the group of young women.
The group of girls noticed him looking and they quickly began giggling and whispering amongst themselves. One of the girls waved at him and he waved back, his expression playful.
You couldn't help but smile at his antics. He seemed much happier here in Europe than he did back home, and his smile was infectious.
"See, they are already falling over themselves for you," you laughed.
One of the girls broke off from the group and walked up to Elijah. She was stunning, with long blonde hair, and big brown eyes. She said something to him in French, and he laughed and responded.
When you landed in France, Elijah could speak French perfectly. He didn't even notice he was doing it until you called him out on it. Making you both wonder just how much knowledge was locked away inside his mind.
You couldn't understand what they were saying, but the conversation seemed lighthearted. He took your hand and kissed it again, before saying something else to the girl.
She giggled and looked at you, giving you a wide smile. "Zhou are very lucky to 'ave such a fine 'usband."
You were shocked by her words, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks.
"Oh, we're not married," you stammered, shaking your head.
"Oh," she said, her eyebrows raising. "'E is zee lover?"
You couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled out of you. The idea of Elijah being your lover was too ridiculous to consider. But before you could correct her again, he spoke up.
"Oui, je suis votre amant," he purred, a wicked grin spreading across his lips.
Your stomach clenched at his words, and your mind struggled to come up with a response.
"Oui, oui, très romantique," the girl giggled, giving you a knowing look. "I'll let you get back to your 'oneymoon,"
She waved at you, and you awkwardly waved back.You watched her join her friends, who all began whispering and giggling again, the blonde fanning herself dramatically and clutching her chest.
"Did you just tell her that we were lovers?" You asked, turning to look at him.
His lips twitched into a faint smile, though he avoided meeting your gaze. “I thought it might discourage her interest.”
Your irritation faltered, replaced by something warmer. “She’s beautiful, Elijah. Why wouldn’t you want her attention?”
He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the cobblestones. When he finally looked up, his dark eyes were steady but uncertain. “Because she’s not you.”
The world seemed to tilt, the bustling streets fading into silence. You stared at him, your chest tight.
“Elijah...” you began, but whatever you were about to say was lost as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a tentative kiss.
It was soft at first, hesitant, as though he were unsure if he was doing it right. But when you responded, your hands gripping his coat, your lips parting for him, his hesitation melted away. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened.
The sound of giggles broke the spell, and you pulled back, breathless and flushed. The group of girls was watching you, their laughter light and teasing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
Elijah’s forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “Was that... acceptable?” he asked, his voice barely audible.
You laughed softly, your hand sliding to his jaw. “More than acceptable.”
Relief flickered across his face, though his cheeks were still flushed. “I wasn’t sure if I...” He trailed off, his uncertainty palpable.
“You were perfect,” you whispered, your thumb brushing over his cheek.
His lips curved into a small smile, and for a moment, the two of you simply stood there, the city alive around you but forgotten in the haze of the moment.
"That was my first kiss," he said with a small laugh.
You smiled, your hand cupping his cheek, tracing along his jawline. Taking in his handsome face, his deep brown eyes, his soft lips. You wanted more, you wanted it all.
"I have a strong feeling you've done that plenty of times before, you just don't remember," you teased, your gaze darting to his lips.
He let out a nervous chuckle, his fingers gently caressing your sides.
"Perhaps," he conceded, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
You stood on your tiptoes, and leaned in close, your lips inches away from his.
"Maybe I should refresh your memory," you said, your voice soft and flirty, "Back at our hotel,"
"Yes," he agreed, his smile growing wider. "And after, perhaps we could discuss this 'lover' business further,"
You snorted and playfully hit him on the shoulder, and his deep, sexy laugh echoed through the streets of Paris.
"Shut up, you are so cheesy," you giggled, your cheeks hurting from how wide your grin was.
He took your hand and kissed the top, his eyes never leaving yours.
"Let's go," he said, his voice warm and full of promise.
The two of you rushed down the street, and headed back to the hotel. The possibilities running through your head, making your heart pound with excitement.
Paris was already the most romantic place on earth, but now, with Elijah by your side, it was about to become unforgettable.
It had been quite a while since you last had sex, and you were feeling more than a little pent up. It also didn't help that Elijah was stupidly hot and a complete gentleman.
You had fantasized about him multiple times since the moment you met, and now the opportunity to make those dreams a reality was right in front of you.
You wondered what having sex with a vampire would be like, would he use his fangs? Would he be gentle or rough? You shivered, the thought exciting you more than it should.
The two of you rode the elevator up to your room in silence, both of you trying not to rush, but the tension was thick. He was holding your hand, and when the doors opened, you both hurried down the hall.
You let out a squeal as he scooped you up before you reached the door, carrying you the rest of the way. He used his supernatural speed, and before you could register what was happening, he was already kicking the door open and stepping inside.
You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and the excitement coursing through your veins. He gently placed you on the bed, and you let out a soft gasp as he crawled over you.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice low and soft.
You could feel the blush spreading across your face, and the heat pooling in your core. He kissed your neck, and you let out a soft moan.
"I confess I haven't done this before," he murmured against your skin, his hands caressing your sides.
"I really doubt that," you said with a laugh, your voice breathless. "Have you seen yourself? Whoever you were before you lost your memories... He was a ladies man, I can guarantee it,"
He laughed and shook his head, slowly unbuttoning your dress.
"I suppose I'll just have to rely on my instincts," he said, a playful grin spreading across his face.
And those instincts... were impeccable.
His hands were warm and gentle on your bare skin, his lips soft and teasing. He took his time taking off your dress, savoring the moment, until you were finally lying beneath him, completely naked.
Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you could feel the heat rising in your face. His eyes were dark and hungry, and you were desperately trying to keep your cool. But it was nearly impossible, especially with his perfect body looming over you.
You leaned up and kissed him, a deep, passionate kiss that left you breathless. Your hands tugged at his shirt, pulling it free from his pants. He chuckled, helping you remove his clothing. Your fingers traced along his firm chest, and down his arms, enjoying the feel of his skin.
You could tell he was a little nervous, his movements slow and tentative. He avoided your gaze, but kept glancing at you. A slight blush crept up his cheeks, and he let out a soft sigh.
"I do not wish to disappoint you," he confessed. "I fear I may fail at this task,"
You cupped his cheek, and gave him a soft smile.
"It's okay," you reassured him, your tone gentle. "We'll figure it out together,"
He nodded, and let out a shaky breath. You kissed him, trying to help him relax, and he returned the gesture with a little more confidence.
You gently guided his hands to where you wanted them, showing him what made you feel good. His fingers gently brushed over your slit, and a soft moan escaped you. He looked a little surprised, but his lips curved into a faint smile.
He began to explore, his thumb circling your clit. His movements were slow and deliberate, and you found yourself arching into his touch.
"Like this?" He asked, his voice soft and teasing.
"Mhm," you murmured, a blissful smile on your lips.
He kissed your neck, and you could feel his fangs brushing against your skin. The thought sent a shiver of excitement through you, and a soft moan slipped out.
His fingers eased inside you, curling just right, and you couldn't help but gasp. He let out a soft laugh, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you.
"I take it that's the right spot?" He teased, his voice low and seductive.
"Mhm," you moaned, nodding your head.
"What a pretty little sound," he praised, his lips brushing against your ear.
Your hands clutched at his shoulders, and he continued his gentle assault on your senses. His fingers worked you slowly, and his lips on yours felt divine.
The heat was rising, and you could feel the pressure building inside you. His thumb teased your clit, and his fingers stroked you just right. Your hips rocked against his hand, and he let out a soft hum of approval.
"Elijah," you moaned, your voice low and breathless.
"Yes, sweetheart?" He murmured, his lips trailing down your neck.
"I'm so close," you panted, your nails digging into his skin.
"Go on," he urged, his fingers increasing their pace.
Your breath caught in your throat, your legs trembling. The heat was almost unbearable, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge. You closed your eyes, lost in the sensation, and then it was crashing over you, wave after wave of pleasure washing over you.
You opened your eyes, and he was watching you with a bit of wonder in his gaze. You flushed, your heart still pounding in your chest. You could feel the heat in his eyes, and you knew he was enjoying this as much as you were.
When the aftershocks finally faded, he gently withdrew his fingers, his lips capturing yours in a tender kiss. You could feel his hardness pressing against you, and a sense of need overtook you.
You splayed your hands on his chest and pushed him onto his back, straddling him, and giving him a good view of your body.
He looked up at you with wide eyes, his lips parted and his cheeks flushed. He was gorgeous, and you felt a surge of pride knowing that he was yours.
Your hands were moving steadily downward, and when they reached his belt, you slowly started unbuckling it.
His breathing was getting heavier, his chest rising and falling rapidly as you touched him through his boxers. He let out a low groan, his hands reaching for your hips, pulling you closer.
You could feel the heat radiating from him, his arousal pressing against your core. His eyes were hooded, and his breathing was ragged. You slowly pulled his boxers down, his thick cock springing free.
"My my," you said with a smirk, taking his length in your hands and stroking him gently. "Is this all for me?"
He groaned, his hips rocking forward, eager for more contact.
"All yours," he panted, his voice low and husky.
You could see the desire in his eyes, the need burning within him. And as his fingers dug into your hips, guiding you into position, you couldn't help but let out a soft moan.
Slowly, you lowered yourself onto his length, hissing as he stretched and filled you.
"Oh," you moaned, your head tilting back as he bottomed out.
He was big, and it had been awhile, you reached out for him, and he sat up and took your hands, kissing each one.
"Are you alright?" He asked, his tone soft and concerned.
"Yes," you breathed, your eyes meeting his. "You feel really good,"
His lips curved into a satisfied smile, and his fingers caressed the small of your back, gently encouraging you to move.
You began rocking your hips, slowly at first, and then building up to a steady pace. You were panting, the friction delicious, and he was gripping your hips tightly, his own movements matching yours.
The room was filled with the sounds of your pleasure, the bed creaking beneath you, the headboard tapping against the wall. The scent of sex and desire permeating the air.
You could feel the flush spreading across your cheeks, and the heat building inside you. He was hitting all the right spots, and the look on his face was making you even more turned on.
He was watching you with such intensity, his gaze focused on your expression. Every time you moaned, or shuddered in pleasure, his lips would curve into a satisfied smirk, and his grip would tighten on your hips.
You were close, the pressure coiling within you, and you could tell he was close too. His movements were becoming more frantic, and his breathing was coming in short gasps.
You leaned forward, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. He responded eagerly, pushing you backwards, and pinning you beneath him. He gripped your hips tightly, his thrusts becoming harder, faster.
You cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders. You were so close, teetering on the edge, and then you felt his fangs brush against your neck, and that was all it took.
The pressure released, waves of pleasure washing over you, and you cried out, your legs shaking. He groaned, his movements becoming erratic, and then he was spilling himself inside you, his cock throbbing and twitching.
He collapsed on top of you, his breath hot on your neck, and his skin slick with sweat. Your fingers gently traced along his spine, and he let out a satisfied hum.
He rolled off of you, and laid down beside you, his hand reaching for yours. You laid on your side, and intertwined your fingers with his, a content smile on your lips.
"That was amazing," you breathed, letting out a soft laugh.
He chuckled, his eyes fluttering shut.
"I agree," he murmured, his tone soft and sleepy.
You gently kissed his forehead, and then his cheek, and his lips. He smiled, his eyes closed, his expression peaceful.
You had never seen him like this before, and it made your heart swell. You couldn't help but lean forward and place a kiss on his chest, right above his heart.
You scooted closer, resting your head on his chest, his heartbeat steady and reassuring.
"I love you," you whispered, your fingers gently tracing along his collarbone.
He stirred slightly, his lips curving into a faint smile.
"I love you too," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.
You smiled, snuggling against him, and letting the warmth of his body lull you to sleep.
It had been a long, strange journey, and there were still so many questions left unanswered, but in that moment, none of that mattered.
All that mattered was the man next to you, and the promise of what the future held.
#elijah mikaelson#the originals#the vampire diaries#vampire diaries#tvdu#elijah mikaelson smut#elijah mikaelson imagine#elijah mikealson imagine#elijah mikealson#elijah mikaelson x reader#elijah mikealson x reader#tvd#the vampire diaries x you#the vampire diaries x reader#the vampire diares imagine#the vampire diaries imagine#the originals imagine
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⚰WIP WHENEVER⚰
I've been tagged by @xxnashiraxx and love seeing their work pop up on my dash - thank you <3
The Soup du Jour is... smut! Plotless, pointless, porntacular, horny Emmrook smut.
We've got praise kinks, we've got flashing, we've got grinding, we've got trying-to-distract-this-poor-man-from-his-work, we've got Rook biting off more than she can chew when Emmrich calls her bluff. It is in this piece that I am (ultimately) going to make good on my threat of Emmrich reciting erotic poetry intimately into Rook's ear while he makes deeply passionate love to her, because that idea has lived rent-free in my head for days now and I need to manifest it. But first I need Rook to be a brat, and for Emmrich to... deal with that.
I was having doubts about this one because I am forever afraid of writing OOC, but honestly I'm just trying to chuck it in the fuck it bucket and have fun.
Tagging: @preciouslittlebhaalbae (you have TIME now MWAHAHAHA), @allofthebarks (don't hold out on me), @emmg (I know you're cooking 👀)
Under the cut because it is ✨EXPLICIT✨
𝒱𝒾𝓈𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃:
A funeral event where the prepared body of the deceased is reposed in the casket (open or closed) so that mourners may pay their respects, say their goodbyes, and grieve communally prior to the formal funeral service.
She knew exactly what she was doing when she pulled on the flimsy little camisole. She had very specific plans in mind when she slipped into the thin leggings that she knew were just a little too tight. There was a distinct reason she had chosen to completely forgo underthings.
She tied her thick hair into a low bun at the base of her skull so her neck was clearly visible… as was the somewhat faded love bite from their previous encounter - the one that made Lace turn beetroot when she laid eyes on it at breakfast. The one that prompted Taash to reach over the table with a congratulatory high five. Emmrich had coughed awkwardly and subtly adjusted his own collar, clearly hoping the marks Amina had left on his neck in return were concealed.
She padded barefoot down the hallway to the laboratory, stomach fluttering and turning on itself in a not unpleasant way with the sheer anticipation of being in his proximity again. She couldn’t help but be drawn to him - his immense gravity could not be ignored; her need to be near him was insistent. She put little stock in the novelty of fate before Emmrich, but there was no doubt in her mind that there must have been some sort of cosmic ruling in which they were unwittingly sentenced by the stars to find one another. Her belly smouldered at the thought of such a thing… of such belonging.
She knocked gently on the door. “It’s me - may I come in?”
She didn’t have to wait for an answer, nor did she have to turn the knob herself: she heard a chair scuff over the flagstone, the muffled jingle of gold - a sound that set her heart racing more often than not these days - and the door was flung open. Emmrich stood in the threshold, beaming affectionately down at her.
“Of course, darling.” He took her hand and pulled her into the room, reaching over her shoulder to shut the door once she was inside. She might have been embarrassed that the sound of the lock clicking behind her made her breath catch solely due to its implication, but she was having a hard time feeling much of anything but barely restrained lust for the man in front of her.
He drew her in close with an arm around her waist, still holding her hand between them, massaging her palm with his thumb as he bowed his head to kiss her sweetly. Her knees went weak when his lips met hers and his familiar scent filled her nose, rendering her brain incapable of anything other than inwardly chanting the same base sentiment over and over for as long as the kiss lasted: Home! Home! Home! Home! You’re home!
He straightened and looked at her, smiling as though he hadn’t heard the hungry little moan that had slipped from her, nor perceived the way she’d pressed as much of her body against him as she could during their embrace. “How are you today?” He asked, genuinely interested - as always. He knew. Surely he knew that she was positively bursting with need for him.
“Fine,” she breathed, returning the smile, watching as he started back towards the desk that was covered with books, inkpots, and parchment. “I’m well, thank you. Just thought I’d come say hello, see what you’re up to.”
He pulled a chair over to the opposite side of the desk for her to sit on. She opted to remain standing instead, her eyes flitted over the pages of drying ink spread over the desk.
“More letters home?” She waited until he was settled in his chair again, the quill back in his hand, and she bent at the waist to take a closer look at a recent anatomical drawing he’d completed. She could feel the cozy heat of the laboratory caress the exposed peaks of her breasts as the insubstantial shirt draped downward, offering a generous eyeful to anyone who might be sitting directly across from her.
Her eyes flicked up from the drawing when Emmrich didn’t answer right away, a clever smile pulling at the corners of her mouth when she caught him red-handed; his eyes locked on the dainty swell of her breasts.
He came to his senses when he felt her eyes on him and he comprehended the coquettish smirk on her face. “Yes.” He licked his lips. “Yes. Maintaining alliships and channels of communication is vital as we draw closer to our confrontation with the gods.” He swallowed and smiled again as Amina straightened and rounded the desk, settling against the wood on his side now.
“A fine plan,” she concurred, leaning back on her hands, her very visible nipples more or less eye level for the handsome academic to admire. “I hope I’m not distracting you: it’s so rare that I get a few hours to just relax these days.” She made a bit of a show of tilting her chin up and slowly rolling her head from side to side, stretching out the muscles of her neck and making sure Emmrich could see the soft plum-tinted bloom of colour he’d imparted on her skin as he sent her over the edge with his name on her lips, buried to the hilt between her legs as she clenched hard around him, her fingers curled tightly in his soft, thick hair. ‘You are incredible, darling,’ he had sighed against her tingling skin afterwards when they were little more than a tangled, panting heap of limbs. It had taken a good hour after that before she could walk again…
Amina squirmed against the desk a little at the thought, aware of the burgeoning wetness that was accumulating at the juncture of her thighs.
Somehow Emmrich managed to maintain the discipline required to look back at the letter he was working on, his lips curling quaintly. “Not at all, my dear - quite the contrary in fact: I’m so glad that you’re finally taking some time to look after yourself.” He dipped the quill, tapped it once, twice, and then brought it to the paper.
She observed him in silence until he seemingly made peace with the fact that she was not going to sit on the chair he’d brought over for her, and instead pushed his own back slightly, pulling her down onto his lap where she perched gleefully, having gotten what she wanted.
“I must concede that you are somewhat distracting, so I will need your assistance in proofreading these before they’re sent out - I do have an academic reputation to maintain, regardless of the beautiful woman on my knee.”
“Is that so?” Amina purred, nuzzling into his neck, her lips barely ghosting over his skin that smelled organic and clean - crisp soap and freshly cut sage… a lingering hint of pipe tobacco and expensive brandy.
Oh yes, she was going to be one hell of a distraction…
“She sounds like a real piece of work, this woman. It’s a marvel that you get anything done at all with her around.” She tilted her hips ever so slightly. Not enough for it to be claimed that she was trying to get a rise out of him, but enough so that the fingernails of his left hand dug into her side a little where he gripped her. A pleased smile took her lips at the feeling of him against her, already half hard: he could pretend to be aloof and composed all he liked, but she knew that there was only one possible outcome for this encounter.
“I was just having a similar thought, as it turns out,” he murmured, breath catching slightly when Amina ground against him more deliberately this time. “She’s cornered me in my laboratory no fewer than three times this week, you see: my productivity has utterly plummeted.”
The way he whispered those words, his voice so sinful and cunning…
“Oh dear…” Amina tutted. “Well we can’t have that now, can we?” She moved to slide from his lap, fully prepared to at least pretend that she cared a whit about Emmrich’s ‘productivity’ of late.
He held her fast though, keeping her on his lap with his hands and arms, and the sheer fact of his existence alone. She rewarded him with a satisfied hum and another agonizingly slow roll of her hips, suspecting that she was probably beginning to soak through her thin pants.
His hand dropped from her waist to her thigh and he palmed the expanse of hard muscle there, dragging his fingers towards her hip as he leaned forward and his hot breath washed over the sensitive shell of her ear, driving a small gasp from her as she flinched in his grasp: he had not been idly boasting during that dinner date about his anatomical prowess.
“I fear I wouldn’t have it any other way…” he confided, those artful, nimble fingers of his straying to her waistband and slipping beneath it. He sharply inhaled through his teeth and uttered a soft ‘oh’ when he found her waiting for him, slick and needy. There was a slight tremor in his voice when he said, “She is intoxicating, you see…”
She moaned encouragingly as he swirled a finger through her, clearly enjoying the experience of her arousal alone: she could distinctly feel his hardness against her rear now.
Oh how she longed to ravish him - ride him to completion on this very chair, or on the floor perhaps. Maybe against one of the many bookshelves that lined the room - they had dallied against one the week before, her leg hitched up around his thin waist, pulling him deeper as he set a pace that stole her breath from her lungs and hit angles that caused her to see stars.
Or she could bend over the railing of the balcony upstairs and feign interest in the curious nature of their environs while he slammed into her over and over again, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips…
Of course there had been the rather awkward instance a few days earlier where Manfred had wandered in on them both in a state of partial undress: Emmrich’s waistcoat hanging open, Amina dragging her hands through his hair, her own shirt piled in a careless heap on the floor nearby and Emmrich’s hand down her pants as she tried to kick off her high-heeled lilac slippers without removing her lips from his skin. Manfred had launched himself between the two of them with a consternated hiss, clearly interpreting their entanglement to mean they were fighting instead of well… the other thing. The following day, Emmrich gave his first in a series of many lectures to Manfred about the birds and the bees - and reiterated the invaluable virtue of always knocking before entering a room that might have someone else in it.
She was snapped from her musing at the sublime sensation of Emmrich’s finger dragging along the ridges of her walls as he slid the digit inside of her. She let out a small gasp at the intrusion and reflexively clenched around it, hips rocking against his once more.
“... but I really must finish these letters.” There was a playful, coy edge to his voice as he slowly withdrew his finger and slowly pushed it back in. “This striking woman of mine will need to exercise patience today, it seems…”
Something about being his striking woman in particular sent a jolt of arousal straight through her very soul. She could feel the cool metal of his rings against her feverish skin as he cupped her sex, his thumb brushing almost tauntingly over her aching clit.
“Please, Emmrich…” she whined, arching up into his touch, making her need plain.
The demonstration of manners earned her a second finger, but her lover did not deviate from his task as he leaned forward, dipped the quill, and began to write once more. “In good time, my precious love,” he soothed. “Try to relax for the time being - I shan’t take long.”
“It feels so good though…”
“That’s wonderful, darling - I want you to feel good.”
She fell silent, the wind in the sails of her desire to argue stilling as she let her head fall against the back of the chair and closed her eyes, allowing herself to exist in the moment - holding on tight to every emphatic response of her nervous system as Emmrich touched her with a capable familiarity that suggested he’d touched her a thousand times before; the erotic symphony of the quill scratching over the parchment mingled with the sound of his fingers moving within her… her breathy moans… his many bangles shifting gently with each purposeful gesture…
“You’re doing so well,” he murmured eventually - she had lost track of time - kissing her shoulder before returning to the letter. He had to be nearly done, hadn’t he? “So good for me… my sweet Amina…”
She whimpered at his words - the reverent praise tolling something deep within her that was starved and lonely. She writhed on his thigh as he placed tender kisses all over her cheek and crooked his fingers, stroking that euphoric place inside of her that made cognizant thought impossible and made her thighs tremble like she’d been in the training hall all day. He took her apart slowly, casually… effortlessly, and before long she was fluttering around him, cheeks and lips flushed a delicate pink, staring down an orgasm that was about to be everyone in the building’s business - she could feel it: the deep fire in her belly roiling and twisting on itself, going taut, so tense and eager that one more touch could snap it, yielding the most decadent release…
And then he was gone, the absence of his touch keenly felt as her walls flexed and tensed around the sudden nothingness.
She glowered at him, though her stomach flip-flopped enthusiastically as she watched him taste her on his slender fingers with a dignified poise she should have expected. “That was cruel.”
“Is it cruel to strive to linger in a garden of untold majesty forever, even knowing forever is unobtainable?” He stroked those same fingers gently over her lips and she caught the tip of one between her teeth, flicking the very tip of her tongue over the fleshy pad of it. “I want to savour you, my dear.” He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled her scent. “Let me take my time.”
#wip whenever#wip#dragon age wip#dragon age#datv#da:tv#dragon age the veilguard#dragon age: the veilguard#veilguard#da4#dragon age fic#emmrich#emmrich volkarin#emmrook#emmrich x rook#rook x emmrich#emmrich romance#emmrich smut#amina ingellvar#this is an emmrich thirst post#v writes#he gives such brat tamer vibes i dunno#and amina isn't as such bratty but she's got such insane border collie energy that she just needs to like... slow down sometimes
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We want want a apology 😭😭😭😭
SAY IT WAS JUST A DREMA PLEASEE
"You cheated on me"
Them if you told them that you had a dream that they cheated on you. Ft. Andrew Marston, Kayson Mayer, Isaac Rhoades, Xanthus Claiborne, and Elias (I've been also thinking about making this after I dreamt of Kayson cheating on me with my clone and having a baby with them. Told oomfie @xzhdjsj and they said that they had the same dream but it's Xanthus and Dontis. So I decided to make one for all of them. Thank you for this request!)
Andrew Marston
Waking up after that dream felt heartwrenching, as if it opened a pandora box filled with your fears and insecurities. Rolling over and not seeing Andrew on your side did not help the situation. You sat up with a sigh, the dream— nightmare replayed in your mind.
"Good morning," Andrew greeted you with a soft smile as he continued to prepare breakfast.
You gave him a weak smile as you sat down, which concerned him. "Is everything okay, darling?" He tilted his head, placing the breakfast on the table before sitting beside you.
"I had a dream where you cheated on me," You sighed, defeat evident in your voice.
"Oh, darling, no. I would never do that," He held your hand, kissing the back of it– a gesture that you always found endearing. "I have fought for you— for us. Abandoning you for someone that I would never love as much as you is not just foolish, but also beyond ridiculous. You have my heart, my body, and my soul. And you will always have it."
"It's just… it felt so real. The thought of it feels so scary," You ran your fingers through your hair, feeling the hurt that the dream made you feel once more.
Andrew nodded in understanding, "I understand that. I believe that I'd be upset too if I dreamt of that in a way. But I assure you that this heart only belongs exclusively to you. Reality is different from dreams."
The knife that seems to be lodged in your heart seems to be pulled out. You gave him a smile, feeling foolish for doubting a man who wants your best interest at heart. "Thank you, Andrew," You intertwined your fingers with his, thumb caressing the back of his hand.
"I love you and only you. Always remember that." He spoke, sealing his promise with a soft loving kiss.
Kayson Mayer
"What?! Why would I do that?" Kayson gasped as the words left your mouth.
"You did!"
For a second he looked horrified at the actions that he did not commit, his mouth slightly agape and his brows furrowed. He turned to you, "I-Is it because of my work? You know that I'm only doing it for the tips, right?"
"I know that, Kayson. It doesn't have to reflect what you did in reality."
Kayson almost frowned at your statement, "Then why?"
"I don't know… maybe it's me? I need to do some introspection, though I feel like I know the reason why," You gave him a smile that did not reach your eyes, regretting that you opened this conversation with your clueless— almost innocent boyfriend.
He nodded in understanding before speaking once again, "If it helps, I don't see myself loving someone else. The prospect of spending the rest of my life with you is something that I am looking forward to. Not with others. Just you and you only. You're my first and my last. Understood?"
You gave him a small nod, smiling at his assurance, "Understood."
Kayson let out a sigh of relief, "Good, because I don't want you to think that I'm not loyal or something.
Isaac Rhoades
"Would you cheat on me?" You asked, breaking the afternoon silence.
Isaac's brow furrowed at the sudden question, "Did I do something?"
"No– uh, not particularly. No," You rambled, not knowing how to start this conversation with this topic to your rational and logical lover. Somehow, you're sure that if you said that he betrayed you in your dream he'd laugh at the concept. But since you started it, there's no going back.
"What happened?"
You bit your lips, thinking of a way to phrase the situation without sounding ridiculous. "W-Well, I had a dream where you cheated on me. Look, I know it's ridiculous and so silly. But it's bothering me so—"
He stood up, cupping your cheeks, "I guess we reached that point of our relationship," Isaac chuckled softly. "To answer that question: no, I will not cheat on you. Never."
You looked at him once more, tracing the sincerity of his statement, "Really? You promise?"
"Yes, really. I promise," Isaac smiled, kissing your forehead before holding you in his arms, "You're my only one. I will never break your trust or betray you in any way."
"I love you, Isaac."
"And I love you too."
Xanthus Claiborne
"You seem mad. What happened?" He closed the book as you walked in the room.
You huffed, sitting across him, "Well, good morning to you too."
"Please, enough with games. Have you forgotten that I can feel what you feel? You can't hide that much from me," he spoke with a hint of smugness in his tone. So irritating.
You rolled your eyes. "Nothing. It's stupid." You muttered, not wanting to give him an opportunity to laugh at you or find you ridiculous. His views towards humans are already demeaning enough and you don't want to fuel it.
"I won't laugh," He spoke, urging you to let your thoughts out.
"It's stupid."
"But it's bothering you."
"Yeah, cause you're bothering me."
"Come on, love."
"Fine, you cheated on me in my dream!"
Xanthus blinked out of shock at your admission. You can feel his confusion and you know that he can feel your embarrassment. He let out an abrupt chuckle, "What?"
"Yeah, whatever. Laugh," You scoffed, turning your back from him.
"I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing at the context," despite his explanation, you refused to look at him. "To clarify, I will not do that especially with what we have. I want to spend the rest our lives together happy. Betraying you, especially when you are my heart, is beyond absurd."
He pats the space beside him, "Now come here." With a huff, you obeyed, flopping on the couch and still avoiding his gaze.
He cupped your cheek, making sure that you're staring at him. "Our time, though limited, is too precious to me to tarnish with doing such thing. So, no, I will not cheat on you. That dream of you is false and you should always remember that I love you and only you."
Elias
"You cheated on me."
Elias looked at you, laughing at the statement. But his laugh faded as your face remained unchanging, realizing how serious you were. He paused his game, "Are you for real?"
You nodded, "I am for real."
"What? Where did you get that?!"
"In my dreams."
He looked at you with a deadpan expression, in disbelief how you believed your dreams over him. "Seriously?"
"Yes, seriously."
Elias ran rubbed his face with his hand, "Babe, there's no way that you believe that." He turned to you with a huff, "You know that I am monitored, right?"
"That's your response?!"
"W-Well, I'm only saying! Like, you have proof that I don't sneak or hide something. It's not worth the risk," He babbled, which got a glare from you.
"Not only that, losing you is beyond stupid for me. I don't want to fumble someone like you, especially after what we've been through," Elias spoke with a quiet tone, hiding the fact that he's now vulnerable and bare.
You chuckled, sitting on his lap and wrapping your arms around him, "You promise?"
Elias blushed at your gesture, "I promise."
With a soft chuckle, you leaned towards him, kissing him softly as he wrapped his arms around you.
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About the latest polemic about Zayne and Sylus over twitter...
I left twitter for good. I'm honestly so tired of the drama that arises there everyday. I literally decided to log in today just to see some Arcane spoilers and the first thing I was hit with was with the most recent drama about CN players and specially Zayne and Sylus players having a heavy argument about plagiarism and how some lines of Zayne seem to have been copied onto Sylus' lines...
Firs of all, I don't know how the CN fanbase is, so I can't really say anything about that matter. From what I read, it seems things are quite complex there and arguments & harassment among LI's fanbases seem to be quite intense from what ppl is saying but, again, I can't really say too much on that matter cause I don't know how the fanbase is there, I'm not part of it neither I go to CN websites to look up for lads content. Most cases my experience visiting CN websites has been because of kind ppl that has respectfully asked me permission to repost my art and give me credits there, from that perspective my opinion about the CN fanbase has always been good and it still stands, I'm pretty sure that great part of the fanbase it's nice and it's only the small little toxic portion that is overshadowing the nice and chill part of the fandom.
My point here it's: Don't let yourself to have a tunnel vision about this situation.
You can probably see 10, 100 or even 500 ppl arguing and harassing others and even so it's not even a quarter of the whole total of players that belong to the fandom only in China, let alone global. To generalize from your point of view is not the objective take you think it is, talking from your experience doesn't talk for others experience, no one's experience here is universal. I read a lot of ppl trying to find someone to blame all the time "Zayne players started everything" "Sylus writers copied Zayne" etc and you know? Rolling this ball to one another is not going to lead us anywhere because as always, it's not acknowledging the true issue here: that is, us as players, keep enabling this kind of toxic behaviour if that means to stand up for or to 'defend' our main LI.
To try to portray one LI's fanbase as the guilty one is just creating more trouble than solving it and it's also not having a general understanding of the situation at hand and instead, encouraing biased opinions that only create more division and discrimination within the fandom.
And let's be honest, it's not the first time (and probably won't be the last, sadly) that drama arises within the fandom where we attack others LIs and their fanbase. This game is targeted towards adult women, we are not supposed to behave like adolescents making tantrums and messing up with our peers, yet here we are, enabling arguments, harassment, bullying or overall having an ugly and mean attitude in order to defend something that honestly, all the LIs would feel ashamed for if they were real. Like, literally all of them hate to be on the spotlight for the stuff they're good at, it would be even worse if the spotlight it's caused by them for all the wrong reasons.
I know lads guys are fictional, and I'm not going to invalidate people's feelings by saying that you shouldn't take it too seriously just bc they're not real -most of us find a lot of comfort in fiction, after all- but that doesn't give you the right to harass real people neither hurt their feelings [the same ways you feel when they attack your fav LI]. You are able to feel whatever you want to feel, however, you're still responsible for your words and actions. If this game is turning you into an awful person, then I'm afraid to say that you probably must step back and reconsider if your passion for it is healthy for you.
I know it's easy to get upset and sometimes we have the need to express it. However, to decide to be a part of a fandom is to accept that you are not going to always like what ppl say, let alone agree with them. Not everyone's opinions might aling with yours but it's enterily up to you the way how you take and respond to them. As I said before, I left twitter for good bc I found myself often wanting to be mean to others upon reading the negative stuff some ppl said about Zayne, especially in order to compare him with other LIs just to make him look bad. I would often felt so ugly thinking like that. Staying away from that drama has been super helpful and that's the best advice I can give for now: try and enjoy the game and your LI by yourself if the fandom is getting too much to handle.
Be careful about the discourse you support and always ask yourself if your words and actions will truly lead you somewhere good and healthy or it will only cause more chaos for you and others. Flammable opinions only light up and burn if we feed the fire, if there's no one to keep it alive, the flame will drown out very quickly.
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Saiyaan
Ab baawra hua mann, jag ho gaya hai roshan
Ye nai nai suhaagan ho gai hai teri jogan
Koi Prem ki pujaran, mandir sajaye.
He's everything that I am not. He has friends, connections, acquaintances, and formal partners and whatnot. I am a recluse, staying at the same circle that I've been in, I keep my head down and he keeps his high. He throws his head bad when he laughs, more of a spectacle, and I bow when I laugh, I want to disappear into myself because my laugh is ugly and it must stay hidden but him? Oh, his laugh is the most wonderful thing I've heard.
There's a chance that he's not even aware that I look at him everyday and I notice all his patterns that he claims to not have. The tick in his jaw, the fiddle ring on his hand, red scratches behind his ears, the wristwatch's dial tucked at the inside of his wrist. I know him, I know him like I know myself when I look in the mirror.
And oh, oh, he's so beautiful. The gods would descend from heavens to see him, the Gandharvas would be jealous of the way he dances, the apsaras would be envious of the way his voice curls around my name.
My name. He says my name like it's a reprimand. Like he's scolding me. He says it in warning of his displeasure at me and I stop in my breath to listen to him. He calls me by a nickname. One nickname, two nicknames, three nicknames, four, five, six—
I would tattoo them all on my knuckles, if only I could hear them all in his voice whenever I looked at the tattoos. What do the names matter if they're not said in his tongue?
But the names are not mine, no, no, no, they're not mine alone, they belong to someone else too, they belong to a stranger, they belong to a friend, they belong to a sibling and family and all hope I let grow in my chest like a vine, it all crushes down and breaks into dead grass at my feet.
Another name. My name sounds on his lips like it's just another name that he knows, that he speaks because it's normal, that it is one of many he speaks everyday and something curls around my throat but it isn't his melodious voice.
He's beautiful. Even when he's so casually cruel, he's beautiful. His eyes sparkle, his lips turn down in an apology but that's all this is and I'm choking again and it hurts but maybe I don't mind it particularly. He sees me, he still holds out his hand and, still choking, i accept it.
With him by my side, it's different to see the world that is so bleak, that is so hopeless. I walk alone at a place and my heart races and I'm scared and I know he won't protect me when the bruises on my heart have barely healed but I still clutch my collar and mutter his name as i beg my god for some strength and courage.
There's ink stains on my fingers when we next see eachother and I think it's disgraceful but he doesn't say a word, he only smiles and makes me feel welcome, and he listens and listens and listens and listens as I talk. I struggle not to lean my forehead on his knees and I struggle even more to breathe because I wish to sob but if I do, he will too, and i cannot see him hurt.
I give him a flower, today, tomorrow, yesterday, overmorrow, the day after and the day after and the day after that and forever. I give him a flower everyday and I see his face light up with a smile, a smile which is rare but it isn't mine and it takes him a second to thank me and call me a nickname that he uses for everyone else as well.
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The Arrangement Part 9
Frontier! Joel Miller / Reader
Your life crumbled to nothing during a migration to Jackson, forcing you to agree to an arrangement just to survive.
NOTE: Possible inaccuracies in baby developments, food intake and inheritance or ownership laws coming. I really know nothing, but I needed to put some stuff in for the sake of the story line, so please forgive me and take everything in the spirit of storytelling yeah?
WARNINGS: Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Ellie & Joel Bonding (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Joel Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (The Last of Us), Jealousy, Mutual Pining, Fluff and Angst, Frontier Joel, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Virgin Joel, Virgin Reader, Minor Character Death, Period-typical Misogyny, Marriage of Convenience
I think i need to preface this chapter by saying I'M SORRY. PLEASE DON'T HATE ME.
SERIES MASTERLIST
Part 8
You didn’t know how long you stood there. You heard him come out of his room, and heard splashes of water, probably cleaning himself. And then, there was silence, and after a few moments, some quiet sobs and sniffles.
Was he… crying?
What was going on?
You heard his footsteps heading towards your room. You pressed your body tight against the door, worried that he might try to open the door. You were not scared of him, exactly. You knew he didn’t mean to hurt you, that he didn’t mean for things to go the way it did, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to face him at that moment. You could feel him press himself against your door, whispering your name, his sniffs evident, his breathing heavy.
He stood there a while, but eventually he went into his room and shut the door. You waited a long time, not daring to go out in case he came out. What would you say to him? How could you look him in the eyes again?
Eventually, you went out, washcloth in hand. You could hear his bed creak slightly, as if he sat up to listen to you. You wet the washcloth, wiping yourself. An involuntary hiss came out your mouth from the sting, the light-coloured washcloth evident with blood, even in the low light. You knew that would happen, of course. Your friends, the ladies you lived with, alluded to it sometimes.
Of all the stories you had heard over the years, you gathered that women would belong in one of three categories when it came to intimacy with their husbands.
There were those who gushed about the experience. How life changing it was. How they could not imagine living without it. How it brought them closer as a couple. How much the experience made their lives so much better. How mind blowing. How they never knew ecstasy before then. How in love they were with their husbands.
There were also those who seemed nonchalant about it all. How their lives were unchanged by it. How they didn’t think much of it, neither enjoying it too much nor hating it. How their relationships with their husbands were as it were. How their lives moved on with or without it. How it could sometimes be good, but not so good at other times. How sometimes they come to a finish, whatever that meant, but mostly not. How they tolerate their husbands.
And then, there were those who feared the experience. How painful it was. How they were glad they only needed to do it until they were with child. How they would be glad to live the rest of their lives without going through that again. How it made them fear their husbands. How much worse their lives had become because of it. How annoying. How they had never known pain like that before. How much they resent their husbands.
These were often the women who were glad that brothels existed.
You had always connected the difference between these three groups of women with how they felt for their husbands, when it came to intimacy. Basically, you believed that if they were in love, the intimacy would be great. Being in love, to you, meant there was a spark, a connection on a deeper level. Which, up until now, you thought you had with Joel. So, in your fantasies, you believed that since you felt so strongly for your husband, and believed that he did for you too, the intimacy would be wonderful. That you would belong in the first group.
Obviously, that was all in your head.
**********
You laid in bed, still digesting the happening in the next room. And suddenly, you came to a realization.
He did you a favour by marrying you. Because of this marriage, you now had a roof over your head. Because of this marriage, you were living a happy life in this wonderful new town, making friends, having hobbies, a family of your own. Because of this marriage, you were not back in your old town working for pennies and scraps for something to eat. Because of this marriage, you had the pleasure of his companionship, this man who you now cannot imagine life without.
Sure, he touched you. Showed affection for you. But maybe that’s just what a good husband would do. And he promised you that he would be one for you.
He had kept every single one of his promises. He had treated you well. He had given you everything you asked for. He had never forced you to do anything you didn’t want to. He had supported you in whatever you wanted to do. He had been a good husband. He provided for you, protected you, was faithful to you. You trusted him. You knew he would never deliberately hurt you.
So the intimacy was not what you had imagined it would be. Was that so bad? Surely there was more to life than that? Those ladies you had known - even those in the third category - their lives were not miserable as far as you could tell. They lived their lives, persevering, even under the shadow of bad, painful intimacy. And you knew for a fact that their husbands were nothing like Joel. He never laid a rough hand on you. He never raised his voice at you.
See? You had it better than them, at least.
This was your own fault. You expected too much.
You let yourself get lost in the situation you were in, the good that these two months had brought you made you believe this was real.
You forgot yourself. You were not the chosen bride whom his heart beat for.
He married you for the convenience of having someone to care for his daughter, for his household.
This disappointment was your own doing.
You let yourself fall in love with him.
You turned on your side, staring at Ellie’s empty crib. You heart felt as if someone was squeezing it tight. And despite all the things you told yourself, you cried yourself to sleep that night, finally accepting that this was how things would go, that this marriage will never be more than that.
Just an arrangement.
**********
You woke up early the next day. Your sleep troubled by the images of Joel marrying a faceless woman next to your grave, the soil still red, passionately kissing her, his hands all over her body. Your face was wet with your tears, the ones you shed in your sleep.
Your body was wet with sweat. You opened the window to let the cold morning spring air in, the sun just peeking its head somewhere. You sat on your bed, mulling over how you planned to go about being in his presence that day, and the day after that, and the day after that, for the rest of your life. Could you ever look him in the eyes again? You honestly could not imagine going about life without having a constant dose of those brown eyes of his.
So, you decided there and then. When this arrangement began, you told yourself that you would be the best wife you could be to him. And that’s what you were going to do. You’re going to get up and be Joel Miller’s wife. He had kept up his end of the bargain, you should too.
You hissed as you relieved yourself that morning, the pain was searing. No matter. This was fresh. You will go to the doctor if it doesn’t improve. But that might alert Liv and Diana. You must not let them know. You shouldn’t shame your husband like that. He didn’t do this on purpose.
The door to the house opened as you made your way back from the outhouse, a frantic Joel looking relieved when he saw you. His demeanour was awkward, his eyes studying the way you were walking, worry clouding his face. He asked if you were alright, his eyes looking beyond yours, as if trying to read your mind. You gave him a smile, telling him you were alright, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. You went into the kitchen and began lighting the fire, taking a bucket and filling it with water before filling the pot with it, going outside to brush your teeth and wash your face, getting some bacon from the ice box for his breakfast.
The water had started boiling when you finally realized he was still standing there in the living room, just watching you, his face unreadable.
“What’s wrong?” you asked him, placing the pan on the stove, moving to get the kettle to make his coffee.
He hesitated, before asking you if you were alright again.
“I’m fine. You should get ready. I’ll start making breakfast.”
He stood there for a good few minutes before finally moving, looking defeated.
You prepared his breakfast and Ellie’s formula, some rice flour and squashed peaches added into it, before going over to Maria’s to get her. She was happy to see you, squealing excitedly in your arms. You kissed her over and over, taking in the sleepy, milky, musky smell of her little head, realizing that you missed her.
Another reason to just persevere. You could not imagine your life without this sweet little girl.
Joel immediately took Ellie from you when you got home, showering Ellie with kisses, taking her outside to feed her, cooing and talking to her the entire time, softly laughing at her ‘replies’, clearly missing her too. Before he went to work, he stood in front of the door, looking unsure on his feet, telling you he’s going, so you brought Ellie to him for him to say goodbye. After giving her so many kisses, he hesitated a bit before bending down to give you a chaste kiss on the cheek, put his hat on and left.
You told yourself that this didn’t mean anything. Of course it would be awkward. The two of you took a step into a new level of intimacy last night. It’s to be expected.
Right?
**********
Things were like that for about three days. He hardly spoke to you, and you to him. The two of you merely existed and danced around each other. You still sent him his drinks and snacks, kept him company when he was working, read to him at night. But it was with an air of unease that suffocated you both. He kept his distance from you, only kissing you on the cheek when saying hello or goodbye, and immediately took a step back when done. He hardly looked you in the eye anymore, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was watching you whenever you were not looking.
There were no sitting on the bench looking at the view with your arms around each other. He didn’t hold your hands when you went on your evening walks with Ellie together. Every bit of conversation revolved around Ellie, to her, about her. It was as if your relationship had taken a step back, and you felt horrible for it.
By the fourth day, you were no longer in pain when you relieved yourself. Everything went back to normal. But he was still keeping his distance from you. You decided to take matters into your own hands and gave him a quick kiss on his lips before he left for work that morning, making him flinch, keeping his body away from you. But it was an improvement over the last few days, so you didn’t say anything.
That evening, when the three of you were preparing to leave for your walk, you made the effort to place your arm in the crook of his as he held Ellie. He didn’t protest, although the smile he gave you was a bit hesitant. But your arm did remain there for the rest of the walk, and that evening, after Ellie was down, the two of you did sit together to look at the view, albeit not touching.
It took a few more days of that before the awkwardness became unnoticeable. But there was no more hugging, no more passionate kissing on the lips. Your conversations went back to normal, the two of you were laughing again, joking with each other, but his head had remained on his pillow during the reading sessions, and lip kisses remained chaste.
You and the ladies were talking one day, when the dreaded subject alluding to intimacy was brought up. Liv was talking about her excitement to move into her house, just a week or so from completion now. Diana made a comment about how relieving it would be to not to have to worry about boxes and wooden trunks falling on them when they were in the throes of intimacy with their husbands in the wagon.
Oh, the wagon rocking suspiciously and everyone would know what you were doing! Liv added, and everyone laughed, nodding their heads enthusiastically. Even you played along, not wanting any awkward questions to be asked your way. Maria chimed in with something along the lines of maybe settling for being a bit boring and just lying there quietly for a while, and maybe not be too enthusiastic, and Liv said something about not being a boring wife in the bedroom.
They were all laughing until they were bent double. You laughed along, as if it was the funniest thing you had ever heard, but that night, you laid awake to a horrible realization.
What if you were just horrible in bed? Was that why Joel no longer initiated anything with you?
Oh God. No.
**********
That thought didn’t leave your head for days. When you think of the way he couldn’t get enough of touching you before, it made you think that having you that one time turned him off. Did he not like it? Sure, it wasn’t good for you, but surely it would have been good for him, nonetheless? He did… finish, if you were correct in that assumption.
So why did he not want to touch you? Was he… disgusted by you?
You were so worried by this change, your body had become attuned to any movements from him, any pauses, even any sounds that came from his room. You were awoken one night by the sound of him leaving the house. He was careful about it, his steps careful, his movements light, making sure the door didn’t creak too much. You brushed it off that night, maybe he was just using the outhouse?
But then it happened again the next night, and the night after that.
The fourth night was a rainy one. So you placed a chamber pot in his room, not wanting him to run out in the rain. Even in full spring, Jackson was a cold place at night. The last thing you wanted was for him to get sick. But even amidst the pitter patter of the rainfall, you could hear him leave the house.
Worried, you went out of your room and peeked through the window. You saw him move towards the other side of the house, opposite to the outhouse. You heard him outside, through the wall, behind the house, near the kitchen window. He had stopped walking. What was he doing? You went to the kitchen window, careful not to let him notice you, and peeked through the gap in the curtain.
He was standing next to the laundry table he had built for you, parts of him hidden from view by the table and the barrel he had placed there. His back was to you. His hand was moving furiously in his trousers, his head up to the clouds. You could hear his heavy breathing, even with the rain.
It didn’t take you long to realize what he was doing.
You were frozen. You took your eyes off him, you thought, but you still saw him. You saw his body stiffen and bent over, holding his trousers down for a bit, before rinsing his hands in the rain and tying his trousers back up, settling his breathing, his hands laid on the laundry table while he caught his breath. You were too shocked to move fast enough back to your room, and he entered the house just as you got to your door.
He looked flushed, shocked, like a thief caught red handed.
“What are you doing up?” he asked you.
“Just thirsty,” you honestly shocked yourself at how easy that lie came out of your mouth. “Where did you go?”
“Outhouse.”
“Oh, I put the chamber pot in your room,” you can’t help but notice how flustered he got, how much he didn’t want to be there being questioned by you.
“You did? I didn’t notice.”
You wanted to comment on the lack of water he had on his person despite his claim of walking to and back from the outhouse, but you just told him to dry himself before going back to bed. You closed the door behind you and laid in bed, watching Ellie sleep.
He didn’t want you anymore. He would rather leave the house in the pouring rain to relieve his needs with his own hand than be with you.
You cried yourself to sleep again that night.
**********
That Saturday, he told you he had a job to do in town, asking you if you would like to come with him. You needed groceries, so you nodded and got ready to go, Ellie strapped to your chest since he would be working. You spent the entire journey to town in silence, you even sat far enough from him to for another person to sit in between.
It was as if you gave up. You felt defeated. You shouldn’t have asked him to take you that night. All this could have been avoided if only you had just kept your naughty thoughts to yourself. Before that night, you had a man who cared a lot about you. Now, he was but a husband who lived with you.
After you saw him that night, you distanced yourself emotionally and physically from him. You remained the devoted wife on the surface, keeping him company, cooking and cleaning for him, reading to him, going on walks with him. You were never rude or angry, you remained the gentle person that you were with him. But you didn’t touch him, just as he didn’t touch you. You didn’t talk to him unless necessary, nor him to you. His nightly habits remained, you still heard him leaving at night. Coming back after a while and snoring not long after. Good for him, getting the release he needed.
You knew it was petty. You knew you shouldn’t do it. But you found your heart hurting every time he kissed you on the cheek, or even touched you, remembering the kisses and touches he used to give you before that fateful night. Before he drew back ten steps. Before everything became awkward. So you withdrew, no more touching, no more kisses hello and goodbye. If you didn’t have it any longer, eventually, you wouldn’t miss it, right?
The first time you didn’t kiss him goodbye, he lingered, waiting for you to do so. When he stepped forward to do it instead, you used Ellie’s fussing as an excuse to take her inside for a nappy change. The second day, he moved to kiss you first, but you turned and busied yourself clearing the table. He stopped trying on day three.
You didn’t even know if he was affected by it, if he noticed. You didn’t look him in the face anymore. You couldn’t. It hurt. What if the longing looks and yearning smiles were no longer on it? What if his warm, kind, brown eyes were now filled with emptiness for you, or, even worse, coldness? How could you live like that? And if they were still there, what if you gave in, fell deeper for him, only to feel so rejected again?
Most of all, you just felt stupid. Two months of connecting, getting to know one another, gone just like that. All because you needed intimacy.
Stupid, stupid!
You were jolted back to reality when the wagon stopped in front of the grocers. You climbed down yourself, his steps stopping as he ran around the wagon to help you when he saw you had done it yourself. He placed his hand in his pocket and pulled out some money to hand to you, but you instead of taking it, brushing hands with him, you held your hand out, palm up for him to place the money on it. When his fingers almost brushed your palm, you jerked back, causing the money to fall to the ground, and you quickly bent down to get it, holding Ellie steady, before scrambling up to get to the grocers.
You didn’t know why you were being so petty. Truth was, you were worried that if you let him touch you again, you would turn to stone. Your heart hurt. And every time he showed you any form of gestures at all, you just felt it hurt even more, knowing that he didn’t want you anymore. You had to find a way to live with that. And so far, this pettiness, it’s making the hurt more bearable.
You went about the town going to different stores to place your order, setting whatever you had picked up in the wagon before moving along to another store. Just as you were getting the last of your orders, Esther came out of the tavern to sweep something into the street, her eyes looking you up and down in disgust, before looking at something behind you, sneering, and telling you that her guess was right. You were not good enough for him after all.
You turned around and saw Joel come out of the brothel, his toolbox in hand, Rose accompanying him, shaking his hand. You rolled your eyes at Esther, he was doing his job, you menace, you thought. You climbed back into the wagon, just as Joel placed his toolbox in the back before climbing into the driver’s seat. You let him coo at Ellie for a while, sitting right next to him as Esther watched smugly, letting the wagon get out of sight before moving away from him as you did before.
You nodded when he asked you if you got everything you needed. The rest of the ride home was quiet.
That night, after you read him the next chapter, you closed the book and quietly got up to go into your own room.
“Elena,” his voice came to you. You turned, eyes on the mattress rather than at him, and answered “Yes?”
He didn’t say anything, but he fidgeted a little bit, before saying goodnight. You nodded and left the room.
**********
The next morning, you went about your routine as usual. Making him his breakfast, getting Ellie ready for the day, feeding her, doing the laundry, cleaning the house, keeping yourself busy, trying hard not to think about the way things were in your marriage. Joel busied himself with the horses, doing some yard work, fetching the water, mending the wagons, before telling you that he had to go to a house near the edge of town for a job after lunch. You nodded, your hands kept busy ladling out some porridge for lunch, placing the bowl in front of him and setting yourself down with Ellie to feed her.
When he finished eating, he made to clear his bowl, but you gently took it from him and washed it yourself. He stood around watching you, fidgeting with his hat, before finally putting it on and leaving. He walked, you noticed, rather than taking the wagon. About half an hour passed before you noticed that his tool box was still at home. Maybe the house had their own tools for him to use? You had your own lunch, and put Ellie down for a nap, before settling down to begin cutting the materials for your new client’s dress.
Maria and Liv came knocking, Maria telling you she forgot that it was Tommy’s birthday the next day. Could you come with her to town? She needed to buy him something, and maybe get something from the bakers? You told her Ellie was sleeping, but Liv told you to go, she could stay with Ellie. Will was working anyway, building something for their newly completed house. So you went with Maria, the two of you walking leisurely, catching up with each other.
She got Tommy a new leather pouch for his money, his was too ratty, she said. As the two of you made your way out from the bakers on the way home, you ran into Tess, arm in arm with a man you had never met. She introduced both of you to her husband, Max. They both looked so happy. Apparently, Max had to follow the Red Cross wagon for a while before arriving in New York, before finally managing to settle and get a job to buy a land. He told you he was looking for men to build, and Tess said that the Miller men could do that? He would be willing to pay. There was no way he could build on his own, not in the time he needed to get the house done, he said.
You and Maria told him you could ask your husbands, they were about to start another build in a day or two, but you will let him know. His land was just a few lots away from the Millers, apparently, so it would be great if they could help him out. As you were talking, Tess suddenly froze. You followed her line of sight and saw him, all the way at the end of the row of stores. It was far, but you would know him anywhere.
Your husband, sans toolbox. Walking out of the brothel with Rose. His face flushed, his hand rubbing his neck, smiling shyly at her, while she gave him a kiss on his cheek, rubbing his arm up and down, a huge smile on her face.
Your body went numb. Cold. Frozen.
The good news was your heart no longer hurt.
The bad news was it had completely shattered.
Gone.
Millions of tiny sharp pieces filling the cavity of your chest.
Your legs stopped working. Tess and Maria caught you by the arms. Maria looked livid. She made to go to him, but you told her no. Just, please, you needed to get out of here, please. Max immediately helped you up onto his stripped-up wagon, Maria climbing in after you, Max telling Tess he will see her later that day.
As Max got ready to start the ride, Joel turned his head and saw you.
To say his face turned chalk white would be an understatement. He walked towards the carriage, his strides long and fast, before breaking into a small run. Tess told Max to go. Now, go.
Joel broke into a run, running after the carriage to the edge of the town, calling your name desperately, as his panicked face got blurry from the heartbroken tears filling your eyes.
Part 10
#joel miller x you#joel miller#the last of us fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction
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Christian couldn't help but smile at Este's words, the warmth in her voice making his heart race. He’d never expected a blind date to feel like this, not in a million years. She wasn’t just fun and full of life—she was real, and that was rare in his world. He leaned in slightly, his eyes softening as he looked at her, the hat still perched atop her head. "Well, you wear it well," he said with a grin, his voice low and steady, the kind of tone that suggested he meant every word. He took a beat, letting the moment settle, before he continued. "I don't think I’ve ever met anyone who felt so comfortable with me so quick." He chuckled softly, the sound deep and warm, then gave her a look that made it clear he was serious. Christian leaned in, his hand grazing her arm for a brief moment, just enough to make her feel the spark between them without overstepping. He knew there was still plenty of time to explore what this was, what it could be. His fingers brushed the fabric of his pocket, and with a careful, almost deliberate motion, he tucked the memory of her kiss inside, as if it were a treasure too precious to leave behind. It wasn’t a flippant gesture, but one full of meaning, something that suggested he wasn’t just letting the moment slip away. No, he was keeping it. Holding onto it, even in the most playful way, as if to say that this moment mattered—more than anything. He stood up straighter, a small grin tugging at his lips as he let the action sink in. There was no need to rush. He had time, and that kiss, now tucked safely in his back pocket, would be there whenever he needed it. A small, private thing between the two of them—his way of letting her know that what had just happened wasn’t something easily forgotten. It was a piece of them, and he intended to keep it close. "For now," he continued with a playful wink, "we'll take it one step at a time. We can meet up again soon, see where it goes. No rush. No expectations. Just a couple of people enjoying some good company, some good conversation, and… maybe some dancing." His gaze softened as he took her in, appreciating her all over again. "How does that sound?" Christian's hand extended toward Este, his fingers open in an inviting gesture, the simple action full of intent. "You can text me in the meantime, and I’ll send you my shifts so you’ll know when I’m working. That way, you can make sure I’m there when you stop by." His eyes twinkled with a mix of mischief and something a little deeper, the kind of hint that told her this was only the beginning. Christian's gaze drifted to his hat, still perched atop Este's head, and he gave a slow nod, his expression a mix of admiration and something deeper. There was something about the way she wore it—like she belonged in his world, a perfect fit. He knew that when people at the bar saw her in it, they'd recognize it too. It wasn’t just any hat—it was his, and now, in some way, it was hers. Christian lifted Este's hand to his mouth, his lips brushing softly against the back of it in a gesture that felt both tender and charged with quiet promise. He stepped back with a slow, deliberate grin, bowing head tilted towards toes. "Well, darlin', guess it’s time for this cowboy to ride off," he said, his voice low and smooth. "But I reckon this ain't goodbye—just a ‘til we meet again.”
este couldn't believe how well the blind date was going. christian wasn’t at all what she expected—he wasn’t the typical guy who used blind dates as a shortcut to something shallow. no, he seemed genuine, and that threw her for a loop in the best way possible. the chemistry between them was undeniable, a spark she didn’t expect but couldn’t help being drawn to. she wanted to know more about him, the real christian halloway, and that excitement was both thrilling and nerve-wracking. his question caught her off guard, her eyes going wide as he called her out. her cheeks flushed red, and she shook her head quickly. “no, no, no,” she stammered, her words tumbling out as she tried to explain. “was it weird?” she asked softly, her gaze flickering to his as a touch of panic set in. the last thing she wanted was to mess this up—not when it felt so special, so right. “i’d never ruin anyone’s experience,” she added, her voice earnest as she tried to reassure him. “i probably wouldn’t even drink, even if i joke about it,” she admitted, a slight smile tugging at her lips. “i don’t drink outside. i don’t want my students’ parents to see me and judge me for what i drink instead of what i teach.” it was something she’d been conscious of for a long time. parents could be harsh. “but if i did,” she added with a playful grin, “i’d be the drunk bad dancer, just so you know.” she laughed, the thought of seeing him dance more exciting than her own hypothetical antics. christian was making the entire night feel magical, from the little gestures to the way he looked at her. the hat, the charm—it all felt like a dream she didn’t want to wake up from. as she leaned in to kiss him again, she felt her heart skip a beat when he “pocketed” it like a precious treasure. it made her laugh, her smile warm as her eyes met his. “i don’t think i’ll be able to forget, either,” she said, her voice soft but full of conviction. when he placed his hat on her head again, she laughed, shaking her head lightly so it settled into place. “well,” she teased, “my uncles have a ranch in mexico, so this isn’t my first time wearing a hat.” she chuckled, her hand grazing the brim. “but thanks. i didn’t know looking like a cowgirl could be a real compliment until you said it.” her smile grew as she bit her lower lip, her nerves peeking through in the most endearing way. “this feels so natural with you,” she admitted, her voice tinged with awe and uncertainty. “but honestly? i’m so bad at this.” her laugh was soft, self-deprecating but sweet. “i don’t know what comes after getting to know each other and kissing and all.” she glanced up at him, her trust in him evident in her gaze. “you take the lead, cowboy,” she said, her smile playful but full of affection. “i’ll follow.”
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Stuck at the bookstore until 3. Normally I wouldn't mind, but most of the people who have walked in here have been either annoying or an asshole.
#personal#literally had someone come out of the children's/middle grade section with a stack of nonfiction middle grade history books and#hand them to me saying that they don't belong there#like??? actually they do#i learned about those topics as early as 5th grade
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Went to the toilet for the first time today at 2pm (Colleening), got out and Sophia had called so I rang her back and she's like "have you got any invoices out??? What have you done all day????"
#well Sophia first i arrived early and decided to get an up & go#then i walked to the petbarn and watched the little fishies swimming around#oh my god Tumblr the FISH some of them were shaking their tails around and one looked at me and shook its head as if to say don't go to work#they were so cute#i want one#got in at ten to 9 and Sophia rang and she's like 'where were you???' because I'm usually much earlier like wtf Sophia#Just did filing all day and God knows what else and i don't even know and#she rang me after 5pm & I'd left but I'd just sent her an invoice $200 less than it should've been so i expected her to yell at me#but no she was yelling about what's his face#what's his face who knew i had a cold and cut up oranges for me to eat#what's his face who puts on a Taylor playlist in the car and gets me to guess the song#'what's this one?' me: you belong with me; him: what was that????#what's his face who holds my hand and kisses my cheek and NO TUMBLR SHUT UP I'M NOT FALLING FOR HIM JESUS CHRIST#Sophia yelling on the phone to me to not send out any tax returns done by him unless they've been checked by her first#because apparently he made a lot of mistakes in the job he sent for review last week and Sophia was really mad and then#she texted me later to say sorry she yelled at me and that she was in a bad mood and it wasn't my fault and awww 🥰🥰🥰🥰#she was in a bad mood all day and when i told her that a $4000 cheque came in she's like 'that makes me feel better'#so money does equal happiness#oh Tumblr the Woolworths guy brought his daughter in today omg she's so cute
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aang finds the mystery airbender in yu dao.
looking for the mystery airbender (whom toph had dubbed 'scruffy') wasn't what he'd came here for, but when he'd heard a rumor about an underground fighting ring, he had to come check it out. it was a weird place to find an airbender, but toph had been adamant that the guy was probably a regular on all kinds of circuits.
toph's description of him had been, understandably, vague. a little taller than sokka, but probably not much older. probably had short hair. uses dual dao. on the scrawny side. she'd heard someone say something about a scar once?
so when a swordsman wielding dual dao and sporting a nasty facial scar had stepped in to the arena, aang had leaned forward and paid close attention. his opponent was a firebender, who called themselves the scorcher or something, but he didn't really care about them. they'd introduced the swordsman as 'the blue spirit' which was a baffling nickname given that he was wearing mostly brown.
the fight started- and aang felt giddy.
they were an airbender. he wasn't at all familiar with the techniques he was using- but then, he was using airbending to supplement his sword skills, which wasn't exactly a technique he had cause to be familiar with. the airbenders he'd grown up around had never really needed to be so... well. aggressive, he guessed.
and the blue spirit was very much that.
he dominated the match- it was over in short order. aang felt some of his initial giddiness leave him in the process. he didn't like the look in the blue spirit's eyes- or that grin. he knew toph loved fighting too- and he didn't judge her for that (mostly)- but it was a little different to see it coming from an airbender.
as soon as the match was over, aang sprang to his feet and tried to follow the blue spirit. he must have realized he was tailing him, because he shook him off, disappearing after rounding a corner. aang jumped on a nearby roof to search for any trace of him, but he was just gone.
then he felt the swords against his throat.
"avatar," the blue spirit hissed, "-what do you want from me?"
aang held his hands up in surrender. hey, hold on. he didn't follow you because he wanted to fight you mister blue spirit sir. the blue spirit asks why he did then, and aang just frowns. if he knew he was the avatar, shouldn't the answer to that be obvious?
"you're an airbender," aang said, "-right?"
he swears he can hear the blue spirit roll his eyes, but at least he releases him. don't go spreading that around, he tells him. he also tells him has no interest in talking with him. if you're looking for another air nomad, you're in the wrong place. aang just frowns, and really looks at the blue spirit.
he looks almost... fire nation, he thinks. the burn scar is a nasty one, that took up no insignificant part of his face. it tugged at something in the back of aang's memory. like he was supposed to know this particular scar from somewhere, but where he was supposed to know it from was eluding him at the moment.
"but you're still an airbender," aang says, "-i thought i was the last one."
the blue spirit tells him he wants nothing to do with him.
it stings. he's finally found another airbender, and they're not at all what he was hoping for- and even worse, they don't even really seem to want to talk to him. the blue spirit takes a step back and makes it clear in no uncertain terms that he doesn't want to be followed, and aang forces himself to respect that.
(it's only after he describes the encounter to his friends, that it suddenly clicks why he feels like he should know that scar from somewhere. it's the one iroh had described to him- the one that belonged to a young man he was desperately trying to find now that the war was over.
his nephew.
no, aang thinks, no way. that can't be right. it has to be a coincidence. it's not like the missing prince of the fire nation- ozai's son- can really be an airbender, can he?)
you’ve done firebender/waterbender/earthbender/nonbender/avatar zuko, so what do you think of air bender zuko?
an excellent question!
love the idea of him existing in stark contrast to aang- they're both airbenders, but they're clearly on two very opposite sides of a spectrum. zuko realizes for himself just how much danger he would be in if anyone found out he was an airbender, so he successfully hides his bending- even when his father calls for a farce of an agni kai after he speaks out in the war meeting and burns his face and banishes him.
he still gives him the quest to find the avatar, but things go a little differently this time. zuko searches the air temples diligently for any trace of the avatar- but it's a lot harder for him to ignore the clear signs that history may not have actually played out like he was taught when he's an airbender too. one day he wakes up in the middle of the night with the realization that he doesn't want to go home.
he steals away in the night, not even telling his uncle.
he decides to actually start practicing his airbending, which basically just translates into him making it all up as he goes. in order to make money, he ends up participating in underground fighting tournaments- first just using his dao, and then quietly incorporating his airbending alongside them. inevitably rumors spread of a 'surviving' airbender, and that attracts all kinds of attention.
zuko doesn't care. he's having the time of his life actually.
(he is in fact, not having the time of his life. this is very much a maladaptive coping mechanism. but he's very good at fooling himself into thinking otherwise.)
he never stays in one place for too long, and is constantly on the move. there's always a new place for him to fight. sometimes he does a little light theft. he's definitely fought toph once or twice, who only actually realizes that he was probably an airbender after she meets aang- who is both thrilled to hear about another airbender and is deeply confused by the way toph describes him.
he doesn't understand. his people are supposed to be peaceful.
(zuko isn't one of his people, of course, but he has no way of knowing this. toph's the only one who has ever met him and she's well. blind.)
he winds up completely sitting out the entire war. he just doesn't care. post-war aang spends a lot of time trying to track down this rumored airbender after the war- and also prince zuko of the fire nation, iroh's nephew who went missing about a year into his banishment.
clearly these two tasks are unrelated, right?
#aang asks iroh about it later and he just gives him a long thoughtful look#the young man you met may have very well been my nephew young avatar#zuko's great-grandfather was avatar roku he says. on occasion those in an avatar's bloodline can be born bending a different element#welp. aang thinks. guess he can't respect the blue spirit's request to be left alone after all.
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I can't stop thinking about Ghost being such a gentleman when your boyfriend is an ass....
warning: domestic abuse, adult language
💀
You were mortified that it happened at work this time...
Your boyfriend was a brute of a man, made worse over the months by drinking alone at night while you bartended to help pay down your student debts from several years ago. He got a little rough with you, but only when he was plastered. And you forgave him, because he was decent the rest of the time.
But suddenly you had to start coming to the pub to pull pints with a little extra makeup on your face. The random patrons out for a casual drink wouldn't have noticed, but your regular boys did. You only knew them by Ghost and Soap. They were military and mean looking, but they laughed together like teenage schoolmates. It was always a good night when they sat at the bar, but you could often feel their eyes on you.
"Y' alright, love?" Ghost asked the first night you wore extra eye makeup and a bright red lipstick.
"Yes," you told him, not meeting his eyes. Your face hurt. Your boyfriend had slapped you two days ago. Your skin was puffy and bruised, and you were embarrassed and afraid to move out, so you stayed. "You boys need another round?"
They left you a sizable tip. They always did.
The next time you saw them, your lip was split open, and you were desperate for a way out of the mess your life had turned into. Trying to hide your face while you mixed drinks was a chore, and as soon as Ghost and Soap arrived, you knew it was useless.
When Soap disappeared toward the washrooms, Ghost leaned across the bar, his hulking shoulders taking up more than their fair of space, making you smile slightly. His voice was deep and soft, but his words made you shiver and freeze with your hand on a pint glass. "Y' know, a pretty little thing like you belongs on a pedestal. A man should touch you with reverence."
You stared at him silently as his eyes tracked the mark on your lip. When Soap returned, you didn't charge them a cent for their drink, but they tipped you well anyway.
When a confrontation happened at the bar, tears stung your eyes, and you wanted to hide. Your boyfriend was drunk and angry, and tonight he beckoned you from behind the bar to a dark corner near the hallway where he could have some privacy while he berated you and roughed you up.
"Please," you begged, running your hands nervously on your shirt. "Just go home. I'll be off work in an hour."
"How many of them have you fucked?"
"What?" you gasped, thinking he'd finally lost it. "What are you talking about? I need to get back to work."
He pushed you up against the wall with his other hand on your jaw. "How many of the men here tonight have you fucked?" His thumb brushed the spot on your lip that was nearly healed, and you flinched. "You have the guiltiest expression. So, tell me how much of a slut you've been. As your boyfriend, I need to keep you in line."
Then he was being hauled away from you as your legs shook. With wide eyes, you watched Ghost's massive bicep wrap around his neck like it was nothing. "Y' alright, love?" he asked you softly, and you nodded without saying a word. Then his face darkened, and his voice was an angry snarl as he told your boyfriend, "Ya' been relieved of your duties."
"The fuck?" he responded from his headlock, gasping for air.
Ghost sighed and rolled his eyes. "Fuckin' prick don't even know military protocol." Then he raised his voice a little louder. "I said, ya' been relieved of your duties. I'll take over from here."
Somehow, you found your voice. "Take over?"
Ghost's face softened again when he looked at you there against the narrow hallway wall. "With the boyfriend duties," he told you while Soap dragged your ex-boyfriend toward the exit. "Sound good, love?"
He was holding out his big paw of a hand, palm facing up, and you knew he'd be incapable of using it to hurt you. The softness in his gaze right now and every time he looked at you was proof enough of that. You didn't respond, but you smiled as you slid your hand into his grasp.
"That'll do for now," he grunted.
That was the night you came to know him as Simon.
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Part two
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