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hazelfoureyes · 2 months

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I just need you to know this story has had me in a chokehold and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I am enjoying writing it. This is gonna be a weird smutty slow burn, so still smut every post but full p in v sex will be a reward you have to work for?

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Redsmut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedysmut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

「warnings/tags: HumanAlastor x FemaleReader, implied attempt to SA, fingering, plot with porn?, Multi part work, bad kind of choking, blood kink, blood licking, just in general blood, Non-Sex repulsed Ace Spectrum Alastor, stalking, murder obvs, finger sucking, smoking kinda kills if you squint, Public sex acts, garter belt, You have a stage name but no one important uses it, Greed, Lust, Human Alastor is a little different than Demon Alastor. 」

minors dni 💅🏽

Part 1 Pretty in Red

The marriage between burlesque and jazz wasn’t unexpected. Before the Great Depression took the nation into a stranglehold, both Jazz and Burlesque were immoral wastes of time only the most barbaric sought out.

And oh, did you love it. Everyone who was made to feel like nobody flocked to your theater and the surrounding neighborhood. Men, women, the people who didn’t agree with either. The biblically inclined, those closer to sodom, the sapphic dolls. Everyone was equal in the halls of jazz rooms and theatres where burlesquers were welcome.

Because of the inclusive nature of such places, you often saw familiar faces. It wouldn’t be unusual for someone from Thursday night to be seen Saturday at a different locale.

That presented certain opportunities and challenges. When you found a good mark, it was easy to be wherever he was and play it off as fate and common interests.

And when you gained a new stalker, someone wanting a personal show, it could be hard to tell until it was too late.

Maybe it was your greed, or just your love of attention, but you found yourself focused almost entirely on a particularly well dressed man one evening. You’d seen him around before. Clean cut, sharp suit, a welcoming smile always on display. He looked like he had money, the most attractive quality of any man you could meet.

So focused on his gleaming stare from the side booths you hadn’t noticed the man at the stage front tables. You barely noticed him the night before, or the night before that, either. Because Smiles, as you took to calling the handsome stranger in the back, had been here three nights now too.

You really put on a show. Shimmying your hips, ostrich feathers following suit with every move. Your brassiere was heavy with shining rhinestones, panties of silk and lace. Your set was almost done, all that was left was to remove your top and slink away behind the curtains to hollers and whistles. Back turned, you unhooked the painful bra and let it fall to the stage with a clunk. Foot in front of foot, you stalked the stage length. With your hand hidden from view you took the feathered fan from the stagehand behind the curtain. As the music crescendoed you turned, fan unfurling just in time to hide yourself.

Groans, mass begging from the audience. Your stage name a chant now, a prayer. “Autumn! Come on!”

As the band slowed, music dying to mark the end of your number, you scanned the crowd. Eyes blinking coyly, you mouthed, “More? Did you want more?”

People were jumping to their feet, not Smiles but that was fine, you were focused now on the adoration of the crowd. The music ended, a second of silence.

You winked, the drums hitting one last beat as you let the fan close.

Fanfare! Men whistling, women clapping. Someone shouted a marriage proposal. You took a bow, twirled on the balls of your feet and slipped gracefully behind the curtains.

Your hands wound to your spine, rubbing blood flow back into your skin as the staff removed your headdress. Someone slipped your robe over you and you nodded a thanks, aching feet carrying you to the dressing room. It was chaos, as usual. Women buzzing around, tits and ass here and there. You smiled. You happened to enjoy this part of the job. Soft bodies in shiny costumes, lovely smells and sweet voices. If you could get dressed quickly enough, you could still take a tour of the room and slide into Smiles’ booth.

“Enjoy the show?” You’d ask. He’d lean in, maybe blush, “Always when you’re here.” Or something like that. You’d cozy up to him, flag down a waiter for something strong and pricey, and get him properly drunk. He’d wake up outside, fine and dandy except his missing cash.

You’ll call him a drunkard if he confronts you, accuse him of getting himself robbed after you refused his advances. You’ll say it too loudly, and he’ll run off.

You danced a little in your seat, another game of cat and mouse about to commence. But first, a smoke.

Unbeknownst to you, the well dressed man hadn’t come to see you. He preferred your singing shows at the little dive bar two blocks over. No, he had come for the man at the front table. For weeks now, he had watched him harassing the ladies of the few joints in New Orleans that weren’t regularly hounded by police. Your smiley mark even heard stories of unsavory acts, many women leaving the dance scene entirely after.

He didn’t care for it. He didn’t care for him. So he took to his hunt, following the man to come to his own conclusions. The pattern of behavior was obvious, and though he hadn’t seen what ended the last obsession, it was clear one of the performers at this club was being stalked as the next victim.

He watched your dance with half lidded eyes, just as much as he watched the man give dirty looks to the other men cheering. Heard the, “Marry me!” shouted at you.

Yes, it was obvious to him now.

So when the target of his interest got up and pushed his way into a staff only door, well, the well dressed man was sure to follow.

The great thing about confidence and a nicely tailored suit is that no one questions you about why you are where you are. So while the brute he tailed had to shove past people to get wherever he was going, people smiled and made room for the gentleman who was not far behind.

He caught the street access door before it closed, allowing it to stay open just a sliver. Enough for one golden brown eye to watch the events unfold.

“Can I have a light?” The stranger asked you. You looked at him, then to the staff only entrance he just came out of.

“I don’t think I know you….,” you handed him the lighter but he instead leaned into you, cigarette hanging from his lips. “You… new?”

You sparked the flint with a practiced thumb, taking three tries to get it lit, and put your hand out. The man didn’t budge, eyebrows rising, “You really don’t recognize me?” He asked, motioning with his hand to come closer. Your eyes glanced down the alley, cars slowly moving past the street. When you looked back, the man took your wrist in his hand. He held you so tightly that the muscles in your palm locked and you dropped the lighter.

“What the fu-,” his hand came across your face, halting your sentence.

“I’m your best customer. Every show. I’m the one who brings flowers.”

Dozens of men bring flowers, especially on the weekend shows. You held your cheek, skin burning. Your hand pulled back, the corner of your lip bleeding from his rings. Scrambling, your mind was searching for the right words.

With a forced smiled, your shaky voice finally piped up, “Oh! Yeah! Oh geez. I am so sorry, doll. I’m just so tired, and the alley is so dark. Here, let’s go inside so I can get a better look at you.” You tried to take your wrist from him but he didn’t loosen up.

“Nah, you ain’t tricking me. You owe me.” He pulled you into him, large hand gripping your face with ease, “You can’t lead on men like this and think you don’t gotta answer for it.” He kissed you, forcing your face into his. “Bitch! Did you fucking bite me?” He threw you into the tin trash cans beside the wall, knocking the wind out of you.

No purse, no sharp object, not even a heeled shoe to defend yourself with. You cursed, so preoccupied with Smiles you forgot your wits.

You spit out the copper saliva, his blood and yours. “I’ll keep biting, too.”

Why scream? The sounds of the next act were bouncing off the brick walls. Upbeat jazz and applause echoing around you. No one would hear you. Men can break your body but you never had to give them your dignity. Never give them the satisfaction of a response.

No. No screaming. You instead spent your energy trying to get to your feet. He took hold of your neck now, throttling you. It wasn’t what you had expected, but as he lifted you off the ground and your little dressing room slippers fell off, you thought this was actually better.

“Well I think that’s quite enough.”

You felt warmth, then registered wetness. Your shin scraped on the asphalt as you were dropped without warning. Trying to open your eyes, you found you couldn’t see. Wiping and blinking away the foreign liquid, you watched your attacker fall to his knees.

Blood was shooting from between his fingers around his own neck, each pulse becoming weaker and weaker, evident through the stream.

When he finally fell over, drained, you were startled to see another man with you. The light reflected off his glasses as he adjusted them, the knife still in his right hand as he did so.

“My, my. What a mess he’s made.” The man smiled down at you, offering a hand. When you didn’t immediately react, he cocked his head to the left, “Is that anyway to treat your rescuer?”

Is that was this was? A rescue? You took his hand with both of yours, pulling yourself up.

Smiles? You blinked away the shock, time to shift into your next part. Damsel. You weren’t out the woods yet.

“You saved my life!” As you pressed yourself into his chest, you tucked your head beneath his chin. You tried to make yourself small. “I owe you! Please let’s go inside, drinks on me!” You looked up, batting your lashes.

“I don’t think that’s wise, dear.” His gaze panned down your dress, soaked through. He could see the thinking behind your eyes.

“No, right….,” You gripped his vest, “We gotta get outta here, fast. There’s a hotel just behind the threatre.” You started to pull his suit jacket off, slipping it over yourself. “No cops, the theatre will get raided. Just— take me somewhere safe?”

You watched him look you over, arm finally extending to let you hook yours with his.

As soon as the hotel door closed behind you, you slipped off his jacket and ran to the dressing table mirror.

Your face was painted red, navy dress now black and sticky. It was good you stayed from view of the reception staff. “I didn’t get my rescuer’s name,” you licked your thumb and rubbed at the blood around your cheeks.

“Alastor. It’s a pleasure.”

You laughed, “Is that what you call a pleasure?” Turning, you pulled the mostly still dry handkerchief from your pocket and dabbed the corner on your tongue. You brought it up to the frame of his glasses and wiped the blood from the metal. “I’d hate to see what you call a bad time.”

Your hand slowed, noticing the way he was looking at you. Typically men’s pupils were blown when they fell on you, but his were constricted. They flitted around your face. His hand took hold of yours, fingers separating the thumb from the handkerchief. He pulled the little square of yellow fabric free with his other hand, allowing him to hold your thumb now by itself.

His lips opened, tongue licking the blood stained finger before placing it directly into his mouth.

Your stared, horrified, as he sucked the digit clean.

His eyes fluttered close, finger popping out of his mouth with a debauched sound. You made no attempt to take back your hand. The realization you may have hopped out of the frying pan and into the fire set in.

“You are a funny one, aren’t you?” You tried to sound as in control as possible. Calm. Unwavered. Offered a timid smile.

He chuckled, “You could say that. May I?” His fingers lifted your chin. You didn’t know what he was asking. His soft smile looked downright loving. He smelled so good, notes of something earthy rising above the copper.

You nodded, because part of you wanted to see where it would go. And part of you thought you didn’t have a choice.

As his face came to yours, you instinctually closed your eyes expecting a kiss. But no, instead you felt his tongue wipe across the cut at the corner of your mouth. His breath blanketed your cheek. Then his hand left your chin, the warmth of his body gone entirely.

You opened your eyes to see him at the door, slipping back into his jacket, “I’ll pay for the night.” He tipped his head to you and exited the room back first, eyes locked with yours until the door closed.

You just stood there in the silence left behind. But as if on cue, the adrenaline waned and your knees buckled under you. You were moments from death, now somehow spared. But what had he— Alastor, been doing there? Did he follow you, too? The cat and mouse had been flipped, or perhaps now this was a fox and hound?

Gripping the dressing table, you pulled yourself up and into the view of the mirror again. Face streaked in dried blood save for the one clean spot where your lips met cheek.

You felt like a ghost the next day. It would be nice to tell someone about what happened but, “Hey a man tried to kill me and then another man killed him! Then he licked blood off my face and I let him. It was the most disturbingly erotic thing to happen to me in months!” would get you tossed into a wagon.

“Are you rude or just stupid?” The theatre manager pulled you aside by the arm when you came into rehearsal. “You can’t just disappear like that, people were waiting.”

Your eyes narrowed, “Was… my absence really the most exciting part of the evening? Not the John in the gutter?”

He huffed, “So that’s it? Got a beau?”

“Wait— nothing else happened last night? After I left?”

“This show doesn’t revolve around you. Plenty happened.”

“Excuse me,” you hurried into the back, “And sorry!”

You opened the street access door and looked into the alley. Trash cans neat and tidy, no dead man, nothing strange or telltale.

You ducked back inside. Had Smiles done this? Obviously, actually. No stranger just cleaned up the dead body. If the flatfeet had found him, the club would have been under scrutiny.

Good, you thought, and went about your work.

Rehearsal dragged on. Little details summoning you back to the night before.

“You okay?” Another performer asked, grabbing your hand and inspecting the blood around your cuticles.

“Oh it’s not mine!” You laughed, she laughed, you walked off before she could clarify.

When applying your makeup, you remembered his hands on your face. They were so soft. Definitely a man of means. A brief intrusive thought, the other hands on your face last night.

You pranced on stage, going through the motions of your routine. Even in the empty hall, your eyes wandered to the booth he’d been in. And as you took the stage in earnest later that night you searched the crowd for the glint of his glasses and found nothing shiny nor promising.

Back in the dressing room you took a moment to wonder what the actual fuck you we’re doing. He murdered a man in front of you, why were you hoping to see him again? He had half a mind to kill you next.

But would that really be so bad? Your life was routine, boring even. The only thing keeping your lungs expanding was the applause. Maybe the headlines of your death would cause such an uproar, dancer struck down in her prime, that you could bask in the loving glow all the way from hell.

One way to remain famous, you considered. A dramatic death.

Not that you were famous. You weren’t part of the national circuits. Just your local theatres, a common face and body to the sinners of Louisiana’s most infamous city. But, well, fame is relative. For the scene you were in, you were your own little star.

A shining light. Shimmering. The faint light reflecting off— Blood. For a second you could only remember looking through bloodied, heavy lashes.

“You’ve been so out of it. Trouble in paradise?” Ruth, the curviest of your coworkers and arguably the favorite of the crew, rested her chin on your head. Looking at each other in the mirror, you offered a soft smile.

“I’ll letcha know when I get there.”

She pinched your cheek, “Tommy said you had a new guy. I just figured-,”

“That isn’t,” you clenched your eyes shut, “no, no guy. I just got locked out last night in the alley. The sticky-,” sticky and viscous blood, “back door wouldn’t open up. I didn’t want to come in the front in my slippers so I just hoofed it home.”

She patted your head, “if you say so! Be careful out there though. Dangerous these days.”

An understatement.

You enjoyed the spotlight, but more than that you craved the attention doted on you after. You’d walk through the hall to the bar to adoring looks and free drinks. It bothered you that Tommy was telling the girls you had a man. You didn’t want to appear too closed off, or for word to spread to the customers.

Last thing you needed was men passing you by for more available options. Not that the pay wasn’t fine. Ends were being met, but grifting added an element of thrill. You really did love the chase. Finding someone and deciding he would be yours, he would fall under your spell and be at your feminine mercy. It made you feel powerful, almost mythical. And the money was nice. Sometimes you didn’t even need to steal, the men would just lavish you in gifts and you’d let it fizzle out naturally. Normally their wives would snatch them back or they’d just get tired of waiting for you to leave the stage and dance into their domestic dreams. A housewife? An adopted mother to a grown man during the day, a hungry nymph at night? For what, an allowance and a home you didn’t own? Pass. Where’s that handsome man with his knife? That was a much better steel to fall onto than what these men offered from their laps.

From your view at the bar you knew he wasn’t there. But with a nod you decided the chase was still on. You were going to get your victory. If anything, this would be easier. You had dirt on him. Blackmail would be simple enough. Bloody clothes and the perfect alibi; being a woman. No cop would think you took down that hulking man.

Ah, right. There was no body.

That would be an issue. He had to have taken it somewhere. Just find him and follow. Worst case scenario, you play the usual game and steal whatever cash was in his wallet.

Well, worst case you die.

You slept sitting up to keep your hair set, during the day your makeup barely was there but a red lip always the star. You had three nice dresses (well, you had had four) so you figured three nights to find him before moving on.

You slinked through the crowds of the hot and sweaty dance club Moxie. Swinging music kept bodies moving, and though you kept your eyes open you didn’t catch sight of this Alastor fellow. Which was fine! You enjoyed a few dances, swing always making you feel energized. Not a waste of a Friday night.

Saturday was easy, the lounge on fifth. Smooth jazz, plush chairs, rich men. Definitely a place you could imagine Smiles to frequent. The whisky was all top shelf, and many gentlemen offered you a lap to sit. Sure, no Alastor, but you didn’t go home empty handed.

You weren’t a particularly great singer, but if the room was small enough and the piano loud enough, you could please a crowd. Your friend had you on a semi-set schedule most Sundays at her little dive too many blocks from Main Street. Her darling played piano, you sat and sang to the couple dozen patrons stuffed into the one room bar. When you finished your set, you took your bows and looked for your friend. You needed to tell her you wouldn’t be staying.

Your polite nods and gracious thank yous were abruptly ended by a tap on your shoulder, “You dropped this, miss.” You did a mental check of your purse before turning around.

“Oh, a sight for sore eyes. Mr. Alastor.” Your face lit up, you could see it in his glasses.

“You’re too kind. Here, I apologize for the delay. I wanted to return them clean.” In his hand was your yellow handkerchief, folded neatly. You took it and found it uncharacteristically heavy.

When you unfurled it, your brass lighter fell into your waiting palm. Your thumb caressed the engraving.

Alastor watched your face as the lighter tumbled out. “I figured it was important, given the condition and detailing.”

You tested the weight in your hand, “Did you fill it?” You looked to him incredulously. He nodded.

It was a surprisingly kind act, and you needed a second to regain your composure. “I don’t know how to thank you.” Your quick wit failed for a moment, but rebounded fast. “Except with a drink. My treat. To my rescuer.”

He mulled the idea, your reaction to him was interesting. Alastor had thought if he approached you first you’d show a little more fear, or shock. But you looked downright chipper to see him there.

“Unfortunately I don’t have much time tonight. I had just wanted to return your items.”

Your smile dropped. How did he know you were here? Had he been carrying— no, he said he had them cleaned. Had he seen you here before, before the incident? A chuckle, smile brought back, “My luck is terrible. You always flee me. I hope you don’t see my company as deadweight.”

Alastor’s smile twitched, eyes hidden behind the glare of his glasses, “Not at all! I think you’d find I’m quite comfortable with-.”

“Lugging people around?” You said. That constricted pupil again, eyes wild. A chill ran down your spine. Alarms were going off. Wrong answer. You straightened your back, popping the items into your purse, “Next time.”

Alastor nodded, “Yes. Next time, then.”

You fucked it up. You knew you had, but suddenly his words felt like a thinly veiled threat.

You turned to leave and hadn’t seen his smile sour.

It hadn’t been a threat. He hadn’t anticipated you to notice the implication. Most people would have been so blinded by his charm they would fail to notice the glaring red flags. He was mildly impressed. You would be more trouble than he had expected.

Alastor knew he needed to do something about the clearly clever woman who was seemingly expecting him. He had followed you for several days, surprised to find you not spreading word about the murder. You hadn’t spoken to anyone, really. Even the man you left the lounge with, you just smiled and nodded nearly all evening while the man dominated the conversation. So, your sharp wit took him off guard. Who were you pretending to be? And why?

All of your cleverness fell apart when you tried to follow him. It was almost comical. He felt bad. This was going to be embarrassing for you.

He took several right turns and stepped into the park just outside of the bar. You thought perhaps he had gotten lost and considered turning around after you realized you’d lost sight of him. As you passed a large weeping willow, you were pulled under the curtains of hanging moss by your waist.

Back against the large tree, you could only pout.

“What are you after, stalking a man in the dead of night?” Alastor had you pinned, both hands on either side of your head. His body boxed you in, not that there was much more to see than moss and darkness.

You blinked several times. What a question. You answered honestly, “You.” He cocked a brow. Then you lied, “Your affection. Your time.”

Something akin to a giggle bubbled from his chest. “I don’t have much affection, but I have even less time.” Your eyes darted around, looking for your next move. “I-,” you grabbed him by the face and kissed him. When you broke the kiss he was staring wide eyed, glasses askew. He opened his mouth to speak and you kissed him again, longer, harder.

He seemed frozen under your mouth, lips taut. Your hands roamed his face, messing up his hair and glasses. Mind reeling. Play the nymph. Be the whore the men always said they hated. Be too strong, too forward, too much and he’ll run off like men do. You could try again another day.

Your hand reached for his lap, his hips instinctively jerking away. Perfect. Men these days can’t get it up for a woman who takes the lead.

Alastor was entirely unsure what the fuck was happening. You were wildly unpredictable. When you grabbed at his dick, he thought his eyes would cross from the shock. Is this what ‘affection’ meant to you? He couldn’t understand it. Couldn’t understand you. Were you really just lustful? Even after what you’d seen him—

You bit at his bottom lip, pulling slightly. Big eyes looking back at him. Your breath was already running away from you, adrenaline seemingly synonymous with Alastor. Staring up at him, you waited. His move.

It was his turn to blink. He looked off to his left, eyes swinging back to you. With a shrug, he leaned his body back towards yours. His hand slid down the front of your dress; red silk. A deer in the headlights, you tensed. The rare third option; fight, flight, freeze. Soon his fingers were tracing the lace of your stockings, climbing up the garter straps.

His eyes were studying your face. You didn’t want to give the wrong answer again, but at this point you weren’t sure any answer was right. This was taking a sudden turn and your foot was off the brake. You closed your eyes, opting out of the scrutiny of his stare. His hand met your stomach and began to slip down again. He rested it between your thighs, longer fingers and palm cupping the entirety of your sex.

Alastor struggled to decipher your expression. It was almost like a pout, but more subtle. You hadn’t said stop or pushed him away yet. Was he right? You were just… horny? As his hand slid back up and pried their way into your panties, you trembled.

It had been so long since someone else’s hand was on you. Someone whose hands you genuinely enjoyed, who you wanted to be on you.

Is that right? You wanted him to touch you?

Maybe it was the stare, or the smile. Probably just the adrenaline.

His hand found its place again, middle finger bending to part your folds and feel your wetness. You whimpered, hand coming to cover your own mouth.

“Is this what you wanted?” He said it low, a husky tone he didn’t have before.

No. Maybe. You nodded yes.

“Will you be satisfied now? No more tailing me?”

No. Probably not. Another nod.

His finger pushed in, and with a kind of greed you didn't recognize your hips ground down into his palm. He slipped in and out of you with ease. You had no idea when or why you got so wet.

“I always end up dripping around you, Alastor,” you whispered through your fingers. His ring finger joined. Why couldn’t you shut up? Why did you have to bring up, well, the murder?

“A common problem for those I take an interest in.”

Oh no. You moaned softly into your hand. Sharp mind made dull by his fingers so you didn’t, couldn’t, process his double meaning.

Oh no. The sounds of footsteps, a pair of lovers sneaking into the park for privacy. You heard their giggles, the sounds of kisses interrupting their walking.

“Shhh”, he breathed into your ear as he worked a third finger into your heat. One knuckle, two knuckles. A whimper. His hand came to press down over your own on your mouth, a second barrier for your mewling. You groaned, the sound coming from your throat.

Whispers. The silhouette of the two interlopers was visible through the willow’s curtains. You watched from over his shoulder, pussy clenching around him. Three knuckles deep, bottoming out.

Fuck it. You moaned freely into your hand, wiggling down onto his hand. Hips rolling, you let your little sounds of praise flow.

The couple laughed, “That’s the spirit!” A man said, a woman hushing him and pulling him away.

Alastor grinned into your neck, immensely amused. He would have better luck predicting a dice roll than your next move.

You hadn’t realized how hollow you’d been until now, feeling so full. When alone, you focused on just cumming, fingers on your clit and mind on memories. You never bothered much with anything else.

Your hunger intensified. You wanted more. Both hands reached for his crotch again, finding nothing there for you. You could have cried. How were you a wet mess pressed against a tree and he was soft as a newspaper in a rainstorm?

Your pride stung. Men usually stood at attention around you. A half sob into the air earned you a chuckle from Alastor. “It’s no reflection of you, darling.” His nose nudged your ear lobe, “I need a little different stimulation than most.”

“Do you play for the other team?” You considered how you could momentarily switch.

A louder laugh, “I don’t have a team.” He leaned back now to look at you. His freehand came to press on your lower stomach, gently pushing your womb down. Your brows knit, why did that feel so good? Hands going to the tree behind you for stability.

“Sure feels like you know how to play. This is-,” his hand switched from thrusting slowly in and out to moving front and back. It sent vibrations up into you. Your eyes rolled close. Shut up. Stop talking. Focus. Close.

He kissed around your open mouth, “Well, it’d be unamerican to not dabble. When necessary, or when the conditions are right.”

Double speak over, “Just tell me what to do to get you to fuck me.”

Alastor’s head fell back as he laughed earnestly, most likely alerting anyone in the immediate area. “Ha! No, this is more fun.”

“Oh fuck you,” you brought a hand around to your throbbing clit to quicken your release.

“Maybe next time, dear.” He took a second, fingers in you sliding around your walls in search of something before finding his place and continuing. Your breath noticeably changed, instead of panting you were practically holding it in. You needed the pressure, you needed something to squeeze that spring of pleasure down so it could snap back. As your face went flush, he kissed at your temple, “You look so pretty in red.”

“Oh god-,” Your head fell onto his chest, your joint effort bringing you to orgasm.

“A little late on Sunday for prayers, don't you think?”

A tiny scream into his suit pocket, his hand not stopping until your thighs finished twitching around him. Even after his hand stopped moving you gripped him by the wrist and rolled onto his fingers a few more times. The pleasure ebbing but still spiking every time he moved against you.

Ah, greed. That was it. He understood a little better. This wasn’t lust, not alone. You were definitely a mix of the two. With a sigh, you released your hold and let him slide out of you. Already you felt lonelier. Already you wished to start over.

With his dry hand he smoothed out your dress. You weren’t ashamed but you suddenly felt too embarrassed to look him the eye. But you did, hearing him hum as he sucked his fingers clean.

Why were you only ever in his mouth in the strangest ways?

“You always taste so sweet, dear. Now!” You wanted to say something clever and salacious like, ‘there’s more where that came from’ but he didn’t afford you the opportunity. He offered you his hooked arm, “It’s dangerous in the park at night. Let’s get you to a cab and on your way home.”

“Is this a hobby of yours?” Your legs were wobbly but otherwise fine. “Illegal activities in public?”

“Funny, I was just wondering the same of you. Stalking is a crime, dear.”

You bit your lip. “Touché.”

He flagged down a taxi, “Tell him where to go.” You slid into the back seat and half-whispered to the driver. Alastor leaned into the passenger side front window and after paying the man, went to close your door, “You’ve been an entertaining sparring partner. Goodbye, sweetheart.”

With a thud of the door and a growl of the engine, you were driving away from him. You could see him in the rear window. He didn’t dare to move, he didn’t need you following another step of his.

Which was unfortunate for him, as you were already scheming how to find him again.

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @angelicwillows

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions

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sandeewithtwoe · 19 days

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My long awaited (not really) DTIYS for hitting 2k followers!

Thank you guys so so so much!! You’re all insane <33

Geno and Error belong to loverofpiggies

(Rules and prizes are under the cut)

RULES:

The deadline is July 5 2024. You can still participate after the date, there just won’t be any prize :P (except for my love of course)

For this DTIYS, I will not be picking the winners! I did that last time and it was a nightmare. Instead, the winners will be picked randomly

You can change the pose, background and pretty much the whole composition, you can even remove Error’s hand and replace it with something else if you want. I really just want everyone to be creative! All I’m asking is to keep Geno being stuck in a syringe as the main focus

You can submit only one drawing

No tracing or AI please!

Use “#sandee2kdtiys” and tag me in your post so that I can like + reblog

And the most important part: Have fun!

PRIZES:

First place: full body drawing

Second place: Half body drawing

Third place: Bust drawing

AND THANK YOU AGAIN EVERYONE!! FOR EVERYTHING!!!!

#art #utmv #geno sans #error sans #dtiys #dtiys challenge #sandee2kdtiys #i have no idea if this looks good or not #i was really struggling with drawing Geno lol #he’s in a syringe please it’s not a jar

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bluebeary-jay · 6 months

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Face to face

Din Djarin x f!Mandalorian!Reader

Summary: as riduurs, you and Din can finally show your faces to each other without suffering any consequences. but when the time finally comes, your insecurities and fears of rejection come into play, threatening to ruin this important moment

Tags: just pure tooth-rotting fluff, Din and Reader being insecure, they're sweethearts though and so in love, Din being a supporting husband <3, mandalorian customs are probably half-accurate but i did my best in research 😌

Word count: 3K

A/N: haiii guys!! long time no see 🤗 i had this idea ever since i watched s2 of the mandalorian almost a month ago and i'm finally done! thank you to all who stick around and i really hope you'll enjoy my first attempt at writing din (feel free to let me know what you think 🤭)! i love all of you darlings 🥰 and as always, happy reading!! 💕

Din Djarin wouldn’t ever admit it to anyone, but he always wanted a family. The memories of his parents were hazy, but he remembered how much they loved each other and in the depths of his soul longed for a connection like this someday. Being the bounty hunter didn’t give many opportunities to look for a relationship, however, and with time he abandoned the hope for a place and people he could call home. He convinced himself that he was content being on his own.

But then the Child came along, and with it everything has changed. This little wrinkly womp rat became the most precious being in his life and Din was ready to die to protect Grogu – but he never expected that he’d also meet his future riduur because of the kid.

He did. You, a fellow Mandalorian Din spoke to only a couple of times in the hideout on Nevarro, decided to help him on his quest, and from this moment on he didn’t stand a chance. You were everything Djarin admired – brave, compassionate, skillful and kind – and though you both respected the Way of the Mandalore and never removed your helmets in each other’s presence, he knew in his soul that you were beautiful as well.

It was a long road to come to terms with what he felt for you and gather the courage to actually let you know it. But it was all worth it just for this moment when you exchanged your vows and he officially became yours, and you his. Now you were his riduur and he finally had every right to admire and cherish you like you deserved.

And most importantly, he could finally see you. The pair of you talked about this moment a lot during the nights spent on the Crest, tangling your fingers together when the ship was flooded with pitch-black darkness. Din used to whisper to you of his dreams, how he longed to run his eyes over your uncovered body, taking his time to commit to memory every little detail of your physique and expressions. You, with a giddy and wistful tone, told him how impatient you were to at last find out how his lips would feel on yours and what color his eyes were. Even when you both knew you were going to marry, you didn’t rush things and never removed your helmets until your union became official.

But you did see each other’s faces, once, though not in a conventional way. Din remembered it clearly as a day, though his eyes – as well as yours – were covered by a piece of a material the entire time. Both of you were desperate for each other that night, the tension hanging above your heads straining the resolve about waiting. And then came the moment when you didn’t fight it anymore. Instead, you both sat down on Din’s cot and without your sense of sight spent the next hour talking and trailing fingertips down each other’s faces.

Din reminisced about this moment a lot of times. He tried to remember the shape of your features to create a full picture of you in his mind while he laid alone in his bed, longing for your vicinity. Even if your bodies were separated only by the layers of beskar, it was still too far for him.

He didn’t have to wait any longer now.

It was the day of your wedding and Din Djarin never felt happier than in that moment when you recited Mandalorian vows and he got to touch your bare hand again, not covered by a glove, to put a custom-made ring on your finger. It wasn’t a necessary but he wanted to make this day memorable and meaningful for you. A few tears of joy were shed, but his face was still concealed by the helmet, allowing his emotions to take hold of him.

He hadn’t let go of your hand since the small ceremony (if one could even call it that) ended, and you squeezed his palm every few steps as you walked toward a house that was going to be your home for the next couple of days. The Child was being taken care of by other Mandalorians so that you could be completely alone for this special moment.

You were buzzing with excited energy for the whole week prior to your wedding, but now Din could sense his partner’s nervousness. He wasn’t exactly surprised – after all, it has been years for both of you since anyone saw you without your helmet on. But with every moment that you neared the bedroom, you seemed more insular, more withdrawn and hesitant, and Din started to really worry.

“Are you okay, cyar’ika (darling)?”

You slowed down, not answering right away, which caused Din to furrow his brows with confusion. Maybe you didn’t want to do it after all? Maybe it was too sudden for you? Or maybe he came off as too eager?

“Cyar’ika,” he repeated softly, wanting to put you at ease – but it didn’t seem to meet the target. “If you’re not ready…”

“No. No, I’m ready. I just…”

You trailed off. Din wordlessly guided you to the edge of the bed, cradling your hands in his – one gloved one and one not. The light of the setting sun flowed in through the small window and reflected off the hard beskar you both wore, bathing your figure in a beautiful golden light.

He was already so in love with you. What could possibly be the cause of your hesitation?

“I’m just nervous,” you murmured at last with your head bowed, looking at your joined hands. “I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“Disappointed?” the Mandalorian repeated before he could think, and shook his head slightly. “What are you… What are you talking about? Why would I ever be?”

You lifted your gaze, and though Din couldn’t see your eyes, he could almost feel the weight of your fears on his own shoulders. The modulator in your helmet was hiding any trace of it, but he knew you long enough to recognize the tiniest shift in your body language.

“Ner kar’ta (my heart). I could never be disappointed with you.” He laced his fingers with yours, once again admiring how perfectly they fit together, and lifted them to his chest. “You own my heart and soul now, and nothing will change that.”

He hoped to soothe your nerves, but you were still silent. It wasn’t at all what Mando was expecting from this evening and he was at a loss for what to do to fix it.

“Would it help if I showed you my face first?” he asked after some time, and your head snapped up.

“No.” Even with the modulator, your voice clearly sounded broken and regretful, and it was wounding Din more than anything else could. “We were supposed to do it together.”

“We can,” he assured quietly, swiping his thumb over your knuckles. “But the most important thing to me… is for you to feel comfortable during it. If you want to wait–”

“I don’t.” You untangled your hands from his hold and instead brought them to his chest, placing them on the beskar breastplate. He couldn’t wait to take it off and feel your touch on his skin. “If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t marry you and make you my riduur.”

You leaned forward and lightly bonked your helmets together, a sweet gesture Din loved since the first time you did it.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum or’atu an mayen. (I love you more than anything.) More than life itself.”

“I know,” he answered simply and delicately brought your hands to the edges of his helmet. It was obvious what he was offering you. “That’s why I’m willing to do it for you.”

You were still, not daring to move, and Din nodded slightly to show you that he’s certain of his decision. His heart was beating heavily in his chest, though, and he could feel sweat forming on the back of his neck.

Showing your face to others was one of the worst crimes in Mandalorian culture, but doing it with your riduur was the highest honor that not everyone was fortunate enough to experience. But Din Djarin was among the lucky ones. Even though it was not in a way he always imagined, he didn’t care as long as you were happy.

You gripped the edges of his helmet tighter and a high hiss sounded, a telltale sign that the metal piece was ready to be removed. And slowly – so very slowly – you did. Din felt a flow of cooler air on his hot skin: first his chin, then his cheeks, finally his forehead…

And lastly, he inhaled shakily before lifting his head to look into the void of your visor.

A second passed by. Then two. Then ten, though Din felt like it must’ve been a full minute now. And still you didn’t move, just watched him silently, motionless as a statue.

The Mandalorian swallowed with difficulty, starting to feel very self-conscious. The crisp air cooled the sweat gathering on the nape of his neck and he had to use all his self-control not to fiddle his fingers nervously. He felt so naked and exposed under your gaze, though he absolutely shouldn’t – you were his riduur and there was no reason to feel ashamed or insecure with you. But he couldn’t help worrying: what if he wasn’t what you expected? What if you didn’t find him attractive at all?

Then a movement of your hands drew his attention and he watched, transfixed, as you slowly started to take off your glove, tugging one finger off at a time. Once your hand was freed from the confines of the protective material, you flexed your fingers before lifting both of your palms to his face.

Even though Din was acutely aware of your every move, he still somehow flinched in surprise at your touch, causing you to freeze and search his eyes with the air of concern around you. He quickly gave you a small nod, silently begging you to proceed, and, thankfully, you did. Your fingertips traced his cheeks, so delicately it almost tickled, brushing down the path to his stubble, and then back up to the arch of his nose and eyebrows. Djarin’s eyelids fluttered closed and he let out a shaky breath, giving in to the most amazing sensation that your touch was.

“I knew you had to be the most beautiful being in the galaxy,” you whispered from under your helmet with a voice filled with a plethora of raw emotions. Din regretted not being able to see your face at that moment, but if it would help you feel more comfortable in such a memorable and important situation, he was ready to do anything for you.

“I’m sure you’re a million times more radiant, cyar’ika,” he said back. His voice was weirdly weak and raspy, sounding strangely to him – probably because he knew there was another person hearing him without his helmet on. “Even if I don’t see your face, mesh’la (beautiful), today or ever… The love I have for you will never change or waver. That I promise.”

“It won’t exactly be fair to the Creed if I don’t remove my helmet in front of my husband,” you answered, half-teasing, but Din knew there was a real worry behind your words.

“You know very well there’s nothing said about it in the Creed.” He opened his eyes, offering you a small smile. “And I don’t remember our vows mentioning it, either.”

You clicked your tongue with exasperation, but Din also saw your shoulders relaxing, a sign that some of your nerves ebbed away.

“Gev bic (stop it),” you laughed, letting your hand fall down – but before it could happen, Din caught your wrist and lifted it back to his face. He slowly kissed the inside of your palm, down to the veins disappearing under your sleeve, his eyes fixated on your visor the entire time. His smile grew slightly when he felt a shiver run through you.

“I love you, ner kar’ta,” he whispered. “Even if you’re a half-Hutt under your armor.”

“Don’t push it.”

You let go of his hand and Din’s face fell, fearing that he really went too far. He reached for you but stopped when you straightened up and took a deep breath, your hands going to the last thing that separated you from him – your helmet.

He held his breath and his heart beat erratically as he watched you. He tried not to blink, not wanting to miss the moment when he finally got to see your face. Just the fact that you were willing to do this meant so much to him, but…

Slowly, you took your helmet off and placed it down on the mattress right next to his. Then, a pair of irises gazed into the depths of Din Djarin’s heart.

…you were wrong.

Oh, how wrong you were.

There was no mistaking it that you were by far the most breathtaking sight the Mandalorian had ever laid his eyes on.

The Maker must’ve been overly generous, or maybe favored you, for looking at you… it felt like coming home.

You stared at him with gentle, tentative eyes of the most beautiful color in the world, and Din would’ve gladly lost himself in them. Your lips, so tempting and soft-looking, were parted slightly as you awaited his reaction, but he couldn’t move. He just watched, spellbound, and wondered if this truly is reality and not some cruel, elusive dream.

He hadn’t felt such awe even when he saw Grogu doing his magic for the first time. Hadn’t felt such elation even when a new skin made of beskar was forged just for him. Had never before felt such love in his life.

You were a wonder. A miracle.

“Cyare?”

Your voice sounded almost fearful to your ears, but you couldn’t help it – Din seemed unable to utter even a word, and panic started to flood your veins when you noticed tears gathering in his dark, beautiful eyes. “Din–”

But before you could move away, he slipped off the bed and knelt by your feet. You were so taken aback by this action that you didn’t even react when he cradled both of your hands in his and pressed lingering kisses to your fingers, one after another.

“If I could, I’d marry you all over again,” he rasped, meeting your gaze with so much love and adoration in his brown eyes that it took your breath away. “How did I get so lucky…?”

“I think I’m the lucky one,” you let out a breathless laugh of relief, your pupils darting across the lines and grooves of his face. “You… you’re not just saying that, right?”

“Cyar’ika, look at me.” He gently tilted your chin up, making your eyes meet his. For a second he faltered, parting his lips in wonder at the feeling of your skin under his fingertips, before he swallowed and gazed at you again. “Do you doubt my words?”

No. There was really no questioning his motives. You knew Din was as honest as one could be and there were only your own insecurities at play here. But the longer you looked at him, his expression so full of love and devotion, the less relevant your own doubts were becoming.

You couldn’t think of anything else but him.

“I really want to kiss you,” you whispered instead of answering, and his face broke into a wide, joyous grin. “Can I–?”

The Mandalorian didn’t even wait for you to finish – the second those words left your mouth, he surged forward and pressed his lips to yours forcefully, eliciting a surprised sound out of you, which soon turned into a needy whimper. You didn’t give him a chance to back away and instantly tangled your fingers into his hair, moving clumsily to be closer to him.

But when you attempted to climb onto his lap, your breast plates collided with a metallic clank, forcing the pair of you to put some space between you. Din huffed with frustration, while you laughed and cupped his face in your hands.

“You’re quite impatient for a bounty hunter,” you accused him playfully, nudging your nose with his. You took a deep, calming breath, wanting to surround yourself with the smell of him completely, but your riduur didn’t let you indulge for long.

He moved quickly and, without a warning, kissed you briefly again – and then one more time. It was more like a light peck, and you longed to feel his tongue inside your mouth once more, but at the same time relished in every sensation that his lips brought. Every touch he gave you was something infinitely precious.

“I’ve waited longer than you,” he murmured. His hands were already moving, taking off the beskar on his forearms and shoulders, reaching where he could without removing you from his lap just yet. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me, cyar’ika.”

You smiled widely and looked up from his deft fingers to throw another teasing comment, but in one second you lost your train of thoughts.

Because Din was blushing.

The feared Mandalorian’s face – a face you were finally allowed to see whenever you desired – was sprinkled with redness across his cheeks and ears. And you were the cause of that.

The thought of it almost caused your eyes to water.

“What are you looking at, mesh’la?”

Your eyes found him again and you smiled brightly, causing Din’s heart to skip a couple of beats.

You took his stubbly chin in-between your fingers and brought his lips closer, planting a soft kiss there that had the Mandalorian melting. He covered your hand with his, feeling the band on your finger under his own.

A miracle.

“I’m looking at you.”

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #din djarin x you #din djarin #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #din djarin fluff #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fic #this man needs to be PRAISED he needs to be LOVED and CHERISHED !!!!!#imagine having pedro pascal's face and still being insecure 😔 /j

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solarisfortuneia · 11 months

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— 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧.

✦ info: he's so, so in love with you.

✦ warnings: not proofread.

✦ featuring: jing yuan, gepard landau.

✦ notes: please do know i've done no research i only know bits and pieces of actual game lore these are simply self indulgent and silly Thoughts i'm having about them in the middle of the night <3 (i have no clue what this is i js think it's cute)

— smitten! jing yuan, who thinks of you all day, every day, while doing his official duties, while sparring with yanqing, while speaking with officials, even just before his afternoon nap.

(the strangest of things remind him of you: an oddly shaped rock takes him back to the time when you baked something for him, and the dew shining on a leaf brings with it a recollection of the sparkle in your gaze. it is almost as if you've claimed more than half the space in his head, stubbornly refusing to surrender it into the hands of his daily tasks.

well, he's certainly not complaining.)

— speaking of afternoon naps, smitten! jing yuan, who dreams of you while he dozes in the afternoon. he doesn't remember all of them, but he adores the warm, fuzzy feeling he wakes up with.

— smitten! jing yuan, who names one of his birds after you. he tries not to pick favorites, he really does, but there's just something about the way this little one tilts its head that reminds him so much of you, how can he not like this one the most?

(yanqing once caught him affectionately cooing at the bird with your name. he brings it up every game of starchess they play, hoping to distract the general from stealing another one of his pieces. jing yuan knows what he's doing though, and still ends up stealing a piece or two.)

— smitten! gepard, who writes letters addressed to you every single day while he's away. some he sends, some he keeps. but every single one of them is filled with all the things he thinks of telling you while you're not by his side.

(the ones he keeps are the sappiest, full of things he's too shy to say to you— about how he longs to return to your warm embrace, about how he wants to taste your cooking, about how he wants to lie in your lap while you pet his hair. perhaps one day, he'll find the courage to say them out loud?)

— smitten! gepard, who finds himself murmuring your name, over and over when he's idle.

(sometimes, if there's a tune running through his head, he sings out the syllables of your name, before catching himself in the act. he shakes his head at himself, red dusting his cheeks, but a tiny smile plays at his lips nevertheless.)

— smitten! gepard, who doodles your name (and perhaps a drawing or two) on a spare piece of paper whenever he's lost in thought. he'd never dare do that on official paper work, though, no way, none at all.

(except... one fine day, he ends up drawing one of his infamous sketches in the margins of a very important, incredibly serious, highly official report to the supreme guardian herself.

he only notices at the very last minute, right before submission, much to his mortification and relief. thank the preservation, he thinks as he redoes it, for—well— preserving his dignity.

who knows how much his sister would have teased him if she found out?)

taglist: @ilyuu @ineshapanda @supernova25 @kissedbysilk @vixianne

(bold = unable to be tagged!) please fill in the form in my profile to be added, and send an ask to be removed!

#—💡#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #jing yuan x reader #gepard x reader #gepard landau x reader #gepard x you #jing yuan x you #honkai star rail x you #hsr x you #jing yuan #honkai star rail #gepard #i'm drowsy rn but this makes sense to me #if it doesn't make sense in the morning #oh well

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kimdokjas · 1 year

Note

wait wait, what’s the change tumblr did to the reblog chains ? 🥲🥲🥲 I’m so lost

okay so basically, let's say you see a post on your dash

before the update, if you clicked on a url, you could do 3 things:

view that specific reblog on the blog you follow (A)

view the previous reblog on the blog A reblogged it from (B)

view the original post on op's blog (C)

however, staff recently implemented an update where clicking on a url no longer takes you to that specific post. now, clicking on a url just takes you to the blog itself.

this means that you now get 5 things:

view ONLY that specific reblog on the blog you follow (A) -> changed location near header. also, you will now ONLY see that post and nothing else

view ONLY the original post on op's blog (C) -> changed location near header. you will only see that post and nothing else. and ONLY if the op hasn't deleted it, otherwise it just shows an error

view the blog of the person you follow (D)

view the blog of the person D reblogged it from (F) -> option B no longer exists

view the blog of the op (E)

you might be thinking: "cool! i get more options so that's good, right?" well, no.

there are SEVERAL things wrong with this and it goes beyond the prev tags issue

1) first of all, it's counterintuitive that A and C changed locations to the area near the header, especially if your userbase was already used to the previous functions. it just seems like horrible UX design to me but let's put that aside for now.

2) as you can see, option B which allowed you to see the previous reblog of a post no longer exists.

now, if you click on the previous url, you will just be taken to their entire blog. you can no longer view the post itself.

someone asked staff about this, and they replied in this post that the change was INTENTIONAL and if you want to view the previous reblog you would have to "go through the notes view".

to borrow what someone else said:

basically, this update just killed the prev tags culture in one fell swoop.

(sure, you can still use it to reply directly to the person you're reblogging from, but it's now literally useless to use "prev tags" for everyone else involved. sure, you can choose to copy tags or peer review them, but again, if people will have to copy them then the less people are likely to use them, and not every prev lends itself to peer-reviewing imo)

now, listen. i know not everyone likes the prev tags culture, but it just seems like such a poorly-thought decision to kill a culture that like... half of your entire userbase uses (see this poll as a quick reference) and that's UNIQUE to your site and sets you apart from other social media.

but it's also not even just prev tags. let's say you want to remove an annoying addition on a post's reblog chain? you can no longer do that.

however, i feel like this is the most important point:

regardless of how you may feel about the prev tags culture, the pure UI aspect of it should remain

what i mean by this is: even if you don't like prev tags, simply 1) being able to access the reblog chain, and 2) clicking on a post and actually have it take you to their BLOG (and not just a page with that one single post) is literally essential navigation.

this update threatens to drive down user engagement (which is already critically low) by making it harder to navigate. which is actually another point:

3) even if you click on A and C now to view those specific posts, it's NOT the same as it used to be.

before, you could view the reblog directly on the blog. so you could just scroll down and see the other posts leading up to it. now, you will be taken to a page where you will ONLY see that post and nothing else.

but also, you can no longer easily navigate other people's blogs.

you know how sometimes you would see like 50 notifications of someone going through an entire tag on your blog? that's going to happen a lot less, i'm afraid.

let's suppose you want to go to op's blog because they're an artist and you want to see more of their art. so you click on C and see that the tag they use for posts with their art is "#my art"

cool! before, you could just click on that tag and immediately view ALL of their art as long as the posts have that tag.

but now, if you click on that tag, it will take you to the ENTIRE tumblr tag with literally all the posts that everyone in the history of time has tagged with that specific tag.

now, to do the same thing that just took 2 clicks before, you would have to: click on C to view the post -> look for the tag you want to navigate -> click E to view their whole blog -> scroll and look for a post that just so happens to have that tag (the search function is literally useless) and hope to god that there's a recent one or you'll have to scroll for ages or simply give up -> if you happen to find it, click on that tag to navigate their posts.

you see how this is counterproductive, right? you see how this can literally drive down engagement with content creators, right?

if you make people's blogs harder to navigate, you will literally drive down the number of likes and reblogs on their posts, which have already been steadily declining for years now.

4) options D and E to view the blogs and not the posts are literally useless because you could already access other people's blogs before. you just had to click on their url to view their blogs starting from that specific post AND you could choose to just refresh it to view their newest posts.

either way, the change just seems completely unnecessary. and again, it's not just about the prev tags culture but about basic UI.

so what can we do about it?

i normally don't advocate for flooding staff with messages but i do feel like this is one of the worst updates staff has ever done (and that's saying something) and something needs to change.

even if they don't retcon the entire update, that's fine, but staff could at least add the option to view the reblog chain as a different feature (maybe even opt-in) for example. there are better ways to go about this than just axing an entire existing feature.

also, this same issue that makes it harder to navigate blogs needs to change. i feel like content creators will be especially affected by this unless this changes because you can no longer easily navigate their tags, so it will inevitably drive down engagement.

so please, contact staff and let them know we want a change.

you can contact support here!

here's a template for a possible message you could send, but feel free to edit it. (under category you can choose "Feedback")

Hi, I would like to politely request a change to the recent update that affects the reblog chain of posts. Regardless of the "prev tags" culture itself, the UI aspect of being able to view the reblog chain of a post is essential for navigation on this website. Even adding it as a separate, opt-in feature would be a huge help. Additionally, clicking on a post and then on one of the tags now takes you to the entire tumblr tag instead of the tag on that blog, which makes it harder to navigate blogs. Both of these issues have the potential to drive down user engagement by actively making it harder to navigate Tumblr, but especially for content creators. I hope you can do something to address these issues as soon as possible. Thanks in advance and have a nice day.

also, if you can and/or want, reblogs are appreciated to help spread the word!

that's pretty much the gist of the issue from what i've seen, but if anyone else has anything to add or a different way we could contact staff to make ourselves heard, please feel free to let me know!

TLDR: it's not just about prev tags, this update affects basic functionality and content creators as well

#pls reblog if u can to help spread the word!!#@anon this turned out a lot longer than i expected omg #i hope u don't mind me hijacking this ask to make a general informative post about this issue!!#ask #anonymous #tumblr #tumblr update #prev tags #signal boost #supportcontentcreators #evansyhelp #staff #long post for ts #196

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mecachrome · 2 months

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landoscar ao3 stats — 2023 overview

notes

retrieved ~sometime in march 2024

methodology: scraped metadata for every fic in the landoscar tag and...... that's it. however one important constraint is that all temporal data is date updated (not posted), so the above timeline isn't exactly a true representation of fic growth but rather how many fics were last-updated at that time. of course this is still its own reflection of fandom health in a way since dead fandoms don't update old fic but well... it's just not quite the same!

this is just info about general trends, fic content, tags etc... so nothing about kudos/comments or any authors specifically

i decided to focus solely on fics last-updated in 2023 (unless otherwise mentioned) because i wanted a tidy set that i can maybe compare & contrast in a year's time, because i expect a lot of details to look different then (tho as stated above this set isn't exactly static... 🤷‍♀️)

ngl i had to re-scrape a bunch of times because i forgot about it for like 3 weeks and then there were 100 new fics 😭 so if there are some minor discrepancies across the post it's because of that halfskh.

also i wanted to include more global comparisons (aka how 814 stack up against the f1 rpf tag in general), but this is also considerably difficult in some contexts since i can't exactly scrape 31,000+ fics can i... or i didn't even want to entertain the thought of trying to do so!!!

why did i do this? who knows.

anyway here's some viz T__T

ship growth

as evidenced in the opening graph, landoscar have been a very fast-growing ship over the past year — although interestingly enough they didn't really start growing substantially until july / the ~better half~ of the 2023 season. here are two views showing their "growth" (by date updated) alongside two other ships on the fringes of the f1 rpf top 10 (sebchal & galex):

landoscar are very much on-track to surpass them and officially enter the top 10 soon, likely before mid-april ❗️ :o

ship characteristics

onto the ship content — another thing i was mildly curious about was how landoscar differs in certain areas from other f1 ships, or the f1 rpf "global" average you could say. for example, here's a breakdown of rating popularity in their ao3 tag:

seeing as explicit is their most common rating, and that i don't necessarily expect this to be true for all ships/fandoms, i compared these percentages with the general f1 rpf tag to see whether some ratings are more commonly represented in 814 fic than average, which produced interesting results:

do lando ships simply skew more HornyTM in general? is it oscar? a secret third thing??? who knows... actually i think it would be fun to do more analysis in this direction but that can wait for another time!!!

similarly i also wanted to see which ships are the most "public" on ao3, as in have the highest share of fic that isn't user-locked... i will refrain from peppering in my feelings about the 4th wall too heavy-handedly but i was curious to see whether some sort of perhaps... er, generational gap (?) of sorts between ships that are more public vs. not could be identified. however i don't pretend to have any takeaways from this LOL i conclude absolutely nothing. (for ref landoscar is currently 72% public, vs. a global avg of 63%)

note that this graph is current stats, not filtered for 2023

looking at relationship tags, i also wanted to know whether landoscar suffer noticeably from Second-Ship Syndrome, so i tallied the first-tagged ship of every fic to find out. i know this doesn't necessarily mean that it's always the "main" ship but it's a good enough approximation. the results were quite positive!

filtered to top ships with count of >1 only

i then also calculated the number of ships tagged for each fic to discern the profile of multi-shipping in 814 ficdom; i did have to do a little bit of string standardization (all instances of implied / background / hinted collapsed to hinted for simplicity's sake + removal of other redundancies), but otherwise i left everything mostly untouched.

as you can see, landoscar also have a fairly promising amount of OTP: TRUE fic:

by the time you get to the fics with 10+ ships tagged, landoscar are less likely to be the primary ship, which makes sense just on a basic statistical level... this is also a very small sample size though

i also lazily tallied the 10 most common ships that weren't NOR/PIA or NOR & PIA to diff their shares of the 814 tag vs. of the general f1 rpf tag, to see which other pairings are more represented in the 814 tag than on average (because lestappen are the most popular by pure count but this is also true of fandom in general, so it would be a misrepresentation to say that their popularity is out of the ordinary):

maxiel's gap isn't really that surprising since i think that, generationally, in terms of when both pairings were teammates there is quite a gap; with carlando—actually let me tally this again but including all instances of "implied" and "past" as being part of the same ship, since that's how ao3 tag-wrangles as well:

Aha ! obviously as a direct ship there is competition between 814 and other lando or oscar ships, but this difference is somewhat less pronounced once we include all formats. tbh none of this really means anything but i thought i'd add it anyway... (it's also very possible that there are several errors in this, in which case my b 😔)

before we move on to additional tags, there are a few more basic characteristics of 814 fic we can calculate. i realize i never offered an overview of Super Basic Stats, so here are a few:

plus, looking at word counts, here is a distribution of those in 2023-updated fic, which shows that a majority of 814 fics were under the 5k mark:

85% of landoscar fics were under 10k & nearly 97% under 25k

i don't really have any reason to believe that landoscar's wc stats differ significantly from average ? so this is kind of just Data To Have Data, and it most likely reflects normal ao3 trends in general... but i thought i'd include it anyway because i already made it lol. similarly, here are word count distributions but stratified by rating:

& same info but heat map view:

i feel like this is also probably something you'd find across fandom in general — that gen fic is likely to have a higher share of under 1k works, since Building Up to sexual content often takes... Literal & Metaphorical Foreplay ! and the longer a fic is the more opportunities an author has to include a sex scene or other explicit content (ofc, not necessarily just porn but also graphic violence & so on). but i thought this was fun to visualize haha

additional tags & aus?

back in my old f1 rpf stats post, i made a table comparing fluff/angst "ratios" (not exactly a direct ratio because of how tag wrangling works, but an approximation) of the most popular f1 ships, and now that landoscar are somewhat popular i thought i'd first do an update:

also current data, not 2023 to make things easier

just like before, simi are one of the most fluffy ships and brocedes are by far the most angsty, but it's interesting to see 814 also extremely high up on the charts, with far and away the lowest % of angst. will be exciting 2 see how that holds or changes as the seasons progress !

finally, i also wanted to do a bit of au/additional tag analysis because you can kind of see this when you use additional filters on ao3 but the previews are limited and get bogged down by the prevalence of *checks notes* Fluff, Angst, PWP, Anal Sex and what have you. which are nice stats to have and all but what of the rest !

disclaimer that the set for these tables is a biiiit outdated because by the time i'd wrangled everything i was like I Am Not Changing It Again. unfortunately i clean my data with shoddy queries and regex functions in googsheetz...

there were 48 tags with at least 10 instances from 2023 fics, shown below, with ones that are (some ~vaguely) nsfw in red just to kind of get a rough sense of which tags get commonly used in M/E fic:

getting a bit too much into small sample size / specific fic territory so if you're an author i sincerely apologize for that... do not mean 2 put u on blast... TT__TT but i also tried to tally the most popular aus people write for 814, which is a bit dubious because people tag in really different ways and i had to accommodate for a lot of string formats but ... it's close enough ! (?)

i feel like this is very little interesting info but idk what else to add so i will stop here for now... well!!! if you made it to the end i hope u learned something or even vaguely enjoyed reading T__T and most of all thank you :')

#*m #landoscar #in a sense 😔#tfw don't have a tableau license so i live life on the edge across multiple unsaved desktop public files......#if ur interested in anything specific pls lmk before my computer inevitably Dies and deletes everything...!#this is so useless nsdflshdfh. Anyway

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roseghoul26 · 2 months

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Part 2

Javier Escuella x femVirgin!Reader

Synopsis: You and Javier are to attend a party in Saint Denis, hoping to rob the owner of the establishment. Your role is to distract the man while Javier sneaks up to his room, stealing bonds rumored to be worth a good bit. The only problem is, the two of you are pretending to be husband and wife, which would be fine if you weren’t completely in love with the man. Will you be able to muster up the courage to finally confess to him, or will your personal anxieties hold you back from getting what you want?

Tags: fluff, smut, friends to lovers, fem!Reader, reader is described to have longer hair but that’s about it, reader is afraid of intimacy, but like still wants it, unwanted touch (not from javier), unwanted sexual advances (not from javier), non consensual touching (not from javier), basically any noncon stuff is not done by javier, degrading language towards women, first kiss, love confessions, virgin reader, not beta read, angst, unsafe sex

Author’s Note: i realized while writing this that the song “Slut!” by taylor works so well with fic, and i was going to change the title to a lyric from it but i already committed to this title

also, this is the part that contains non consensual themes, but there is not actually assault that happens. if you’re not in the right headspace to read something like that, please skip this fic!

part 1 ❉ part 2

If you had to laugh at one more awful joke, and to continue pretending like you were oh so interested in the history of a family’s company, you were going to hurt someone. You were thankful for Javier’s charm, letting him take the lead in most of the conversations, but you could tell that even he was getting exhausted.

It had been about an hour and a half since the two of you arrived, spending most of your time mingling with the other guests, blending into the crowd as you awaited an opportunity to speak with Lee. But he was apparently a very important man, constantly being whisked away by other people before you could even approach him. He was constantly moving between floors, meaning that even you had to get his attention for a good while to allow Javier a chance to get into his room.

The two leaned side by side at the bar now, each of you nursing a small glass of some brandy. He had his arm around your shoulders, and you observed the crowd with disinterested eyes. Lee was currently in conversation with two other men, and he had been for the last ten minutes.

Your feet were aching, and the corset was tiring, but it did its job as a distraction. More often than not, you watched men’s eyes roam over your body as Javier talked, and they seemed more eager to answer his questions and engage, if you didn't have a bit longer to look at you. It made you feel disgusted, but you could handle it for a night. But, thankfully, no one had laid their hands on you, mainly because your ‘husband’ was beside you most of the night.

The man beside you bent towards your ear, voice barely audible over the sounds of the party. “Are you doing alright?”

You smiled half-heartedly. “I’m ready to be done.”

“You and me both,” he chuckled dryly.

“I will say, it’s much more bearable because of you.”

He didn’t respond, but he pulled you in closer. Because his arm was across your shoulders, he had access to exposed skin, and you felt him lightly dance his fingers across it. It felt quite nice, and you felt yourself begin to unwind.

That was until you watched from across the room as Arthur raised his hands up, in a heated disagreement with another man. You nudged Javier, gesturing over to Arthur with a nod. “I swear, we can’t bring him anywhere.”

Javier laughed. “That we can’t. I’ll be right back, mi amor.” Kissing the top of your head, he removed himself from you, and you felt cold at the lack of contact.You already missed his hands on you, and despite what you believed, the growing fire inside of you didn’t cool down at all when he stopped touching you. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? As he made his way toward the cowboy, you heard him begin to defuse the situation; his honeyed words could cool down even the most aggravated people.

As you watched, trying and failing to keep your eyes off the way his hips swayed as he walked, a new presence made themselves known beside you, on the opposite side of where Javier once stood. Taking a sip of your drink, you glanced up at the new figure, nearly choking on your drink when you saw who it was.

“You enjoyin’ the party, ma’am?”

“I am, Mr. Reginald.” Time to turn on the charm. “The name’s Anna. Anna Howard.” You extended a hand towards him, which he took. He kissed the back of your hand, and you were successful in fighting the urge to pull it away. You were able to get a closer look at him, pretending to look interested in him as you did so. He was older, probably around Hosea’s age, with a scrappy white beard that scratched against your skin even through the glove. His longer hair was slicked back, and he had almost unsettling blue eyes that didn’t even bother to look into yours. His white skin was blotched with red, his cheeks ruddy with drink.

“A lovely name for a lovely woman,” he murmured as he straightened, flashing you a smile that you figured was supposed to be appealing. His teeth were partially rotten, and looked the color of turmeric, and you could smell the alcohol on his breath. But he didn’t let go of your hand. “And you can just call me Lee.”

Pushing back your disgust, you smiled back at him. “A pleasure, Lee. You really know how to throw a marvelous party.”

Disregarding your compliment, you watched his eyes flick to Javier, a look of disdain in his eyes. “Is that your husband?”

Following his eyes, you watched as Javier escorted the man that Arthur was arguing with away, but his eyes were on you, an unspoken question in his eyes. Am I good to sneak away? What you didn’t notice was the barely restrained anger, jaw clenching and unclenching as he watched what was unfolding. You nodded, both at Javier and Lee, and you turned your attention away from Javier. “He is,” you laced your words with disappointment, and you could tell he heard it. “Married for two years.”

Before you could react, you felt the hand still grasping yours rip your glove away, a pleased grin on his face as he examined your hand. You let out a shocked gasp, which he took at you enjoying what he just did, his grin turning even larger. “I thought I didn’t feel a ring.”

“Don’t tell him,” you winked. He let go of your hand, shaking his head with a smile while handing you back your glove, which you slipped back on. You were killing this man in your mind, but you forced your face to seem flustered.

“Any children?”

You shook your head. “It ain’t for a lack of tryin’, though.” You laughed, and he joined in as well. He has still yet to make eye contact with you, eyes practically glued to the rest of your body. Pushing your chest forward, you watch his gross eyes widen. Grabbing your clutch from under your arm, you reapplied the rouge, and for once you watched his eyes flick to your face. Popping your lips, you tucked the rouge away, and you saw how he tracked every movement of yours. You had him right where you wanted him. Now you just needed to give Javier about fifteen to twenty minutes, then he’d be whisking you away, Arthur in tow, and then you’d never have to see this man again.

“I’m surprised your husband let you go out in somethin’ like this,” you felt him run the back of his hand against the bodice of your dress, running just under the cup of your breasts. You stiffened under his touch, but you were thankful that his body language comprehension was absolutely terrible, because he seemed to think you were liking it. You saw Arthur begin to approach the two of you, but he stayed close enough away to not interfere with what was happening, but he was ready to do anything if things went south.

“Actually, he chose it for me, for tonight.”

“So he likes parading his wife around, like she’s a whore.”

His words had your blood turning cold, your heartbeat hammering in your ears, and you wanted nothing more than to tear yourself away. You steeled yourself, trying to not seem as affected as you were. “Whatever makes him happy.”

He laughed at that. “You like it, no?”

“I-”

“You like havin’ everyone else’s eyes on you, don’t you. I mean, you were practically pushing your tits to my face a moment ago. You that desperate for attention, huh? Your husband not givin’ you enough?” You wanted to roll your eyes. For the love of…

“I’m sorry, it’s just,” you began to cry, a neat little trick you could pull out whenever you felt like it. “Old habits are hard to break, you know?” You elaborated more. “I used to offer my services to men… that’s how we met. He used to be so sweet.” You laughed bitterly. “But, ever since we got married, he hasn’t been treatin’ me right, always seeing’ other women, comin’ home late, and…” you took a moment to breathe, letting a tear escape from your eye, no doubt smuggling the kohl around it. “And he’s left me so unsatisfied. I wish I never married him!” You were playing into exactly what he wanted to hear, and he was hanging on to every word you said.

He cooed at you, demeaning in every sense of the word. “You poor thing,” his hand tugged at your waist, pulling you into him.

You tried to push him away, arguing that he might see, but he chuckled. “Look around. He’s nowhere to be seen. He’s probably got his hands on another woman right now. Isn’t that terrible?” He pulled you in close to him with a hand on your hip, and you shuddered.

You nodded, looking around for Javier. Just as he had said, he was gone, and you were content with that, the job going smoothly. “What kinda woman am I, who can’t keep her own husband loyal to her?”

“It’s not your fault, sweet thing. I’m not sure how any man could be unfaithful to a beautiful thing like you…” both hands now wrapped around your waist, pulling your back into him. His lips tickled your ear as he whispered to you, and you held back a gag at the stench. “How ‘bout I show you how a real man treats his woman.” You couldn’t even respond before he was pulling you towards one of the stairs by your hand. He had an iron grip on you, and you found yourself unable to pull away. Glancing behind you, you saw Arthur trying to follow you, but he was stopped by a group that were claiming very loudly that they knew him, getting more and more aggressive by the minute. He looked understandably panicked, eyes not leaving you as he tried to push through the group surrounding him. You mouthed I’m alright, despite the panic that threatened to overwhelm you.

“Right now?” You sounded calm, much to your surprise. He nodded, not even looking back at you. “What about the party?”

“It’ll be there when we’re done.”

Shit. It had only been about seven minutes since the two of you had started talking, not nearly enough time for Javier to be done. And if he was taking you to his room, that’ll probably be where the bonds are located, and, in turn, where Javier would be currently trying to rob him. So much for the job going smoothly.

But you didn’t want to raise suspicion, so you went along with Lee, keeping as much distance away from his as you could. He kept his iron grip, nearly causing you to stumble up the stairs, your shoes catching on the carpet. His hands were so much worse than Javier’s, demanding and harsh; the hands belonged to someone who didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.

When you reached the top floor, you let your facade drop slightly, looking around for some exit. Every door looked the same, a deep mahogany, and the hallway seemed to extend to infinity as he marched down it. A thin rug extended down the center of the floor, and so you tried your hardest to walk along the hardwood floor, praying that Javier would hear the approaching noise of your heels.

Wordlessly, he suddenly halted in front of one of the doors, opening it quickly, pulling you in forcefully. It was at that point you were debating screaming. Would someone come help you? Would they be able to even hear you over the party? Lee was not a large man by any means, old and scrawny, but he still had the upper hand right now. And you didn’t know if he had any weapons on him, and you weren’t too keen on finding out.

The room, thankfully, was devoid of any other people besides you and Lee. He finally let go of your wrist, and you snatched it close to you, rubbing at the hurt skin. He stepped further into the room, passing by a large closet and dresser that housed a washbin before reaching the bed. Keeping his back turned to you, he slowly began to undress. Now, you debated running out the door behind you. You knew you probably wouldn’t be able to get far, your shoes and dress restricting you from moving easily.

Your mind was made, however, when you saw the closet door creak open, and you barely suppressed a surprised noise. A familiar figure stood hidden in the shadows, various jackets and garments hiding him further, and you nearly cried in relief. It was at that point you noticed the large desk and safe in the corner, your theory that his bonds would be in his room being right. Javier tried to exit, but you stopped him with a panicked look. One slight turn from Lee and he would see. Even in the dark, you could see the conflict on his face, and you held up a finger, telling him to wait. He nodded, and you saw the glint of a blade, which helped to ease your worries.

“Are you just gonna stand there?” Lee’s gruff voice made you jump, and you turned your attention back to him. He still had his back to you, working off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, his jacket discarded on the bed.

You didn’t dignify him with a response, making your way to the large window that faced the streets of Saint Denis. It was partially open, a cool night’s breeze tickling your skin. “Don’t think about jumping,” you heard him try to joke, but it came out more as a threat. He had sat on the bed as you approached the window, and you heard the wooden frame creak as he got up. You retrieved the hidden blade from your clutch, pulling off the fake comb top. It was a tiny little thing, a needle compared to the hunting knife you saw Javier frequently use, but it could cause some damage if need be.

Holding it to your chest, your breathing slowed as you heard him approach, floorboards creaking with each slow step. “I’ll make sure you get paid after this.”

“I said I was a working girl.”

He scoffed. “Sure, whatever makes you feel better.” He took another step towards you. “Get on the bed.”

With the assurance that Javier was also in the room, you found yourself surprisingly confident, shaking your head at his question. That pissed him off, and you could feel the anger beginning to roll off of him. Still, you faced away from him, gripping the blade so tightly that your fingers ached.

“It wasn’t a question. Get on the bed.”

“And I said no.”

In surprising swiftness, you felt his fingers grasp at the back of your neck, and you figured he would’ve gone for your hair if it wasn’t pinned up. His fingers had merely grazed your skin before you were spinning around, the blade flying at his face with unrestrained fury. A streak of crimson cut through the air as you hit your mark, the blade running across the entire side of his face, barely missing his eye by a quarter of an inch. He stumbled back a few feet, shocked, clutching the side of his face.

Blood poured from his fingers, and he looked up at you with hate in his eyes. “You whore! C’mere!” Lee attempted to lunge for you, but was easily stopped Javier wrapped his hand around the face of the man, muffling him as he pulled him down to the ground. His knife pressed into the delicate skin of his neck, pressing so hard that droplets of blood began to appear. A shocked noise that turned into a muffled noise left Lee’s mouth, turning into a cry when Javier dug the knife in deeper. A satisfied smirk graced his lips when he heard Lee reduced to a whimpering mess, and his blazing eyes found yours.

Ignoring your desire, you sighed in relief, and you let your arms loosen, the blade falling to your side. “What do you want to do with him, mi amor?” Javier sounded almost breathless, and you watched as the blood from Lee’s wound began to coat Javier’s hand.

A part of you wanted to see him dead on the floor, but you refrained yourself. “Let him live,” was all you said, not bothering to give an explanation, not that you had one; you just didn't want him to die.

Not yet, that is.

Letting out a sigh that almost sounded like disappointment, Javier adjusted his blade so that it was no longer completely digging into Lee’s skin. “You’re lucky that I listen to what she tells me, cabrón. If she wasn’t here, you’d be long dead. You know what…” Javier moved his hand so that it no longer covered his mouth, but he kept his blade where it was, ready to move if he decided to make a noise. “Why don’t you tell her how thankful you are that she spared your miserable life?”

Lee took a few shuddering breaths, tears mixing in with the blood that streaked down his face. “T-Thank you,” he rushed out, eyes squinting closed as he braced himself for the final blow from Javier.

“And…”

“And?” Lee practically squawked.

“You said some pretty nasty things to her. Maybe you ought to apologize.” You watched Javier’s jaw clench as he recalled the small bit he heard, and it was evident that he was using every ounce of restraint in his body to not just end Lee then and there. If he knew what all was said to you, then Lee would be lifeless right now.

“I’m sorry!” Lee cried out, and Javier gave an approving noise in response. You couldn’t care less if he apologized to you. Quite honestly, it was much more rewarding watching Javier force the man into submission. You realized watching him like this was turning you on, growing increasingly warmer despite the cold air from the window.

You needed to speak to a doctor. Or a priest.

“Very good,” Javier praised, his voice gravelly. “Now that that’s out of the way.” With ease, you watched him flip the knife around his fingers, now holding it in a way that allowed him to bash the butt of it against Lee’s head. He fell to the ground like a sack, body hitting floor with a thud.

You weren’t quite sure what to do with yourself, too many emotions running through your body. Anxiety still persisted in your brain, reminiscing over all the what ifs and scenarios that could have transpired if Javier hadn’t been in the room. You were grateful that he was here, and there was that feeling in your chest again, increasing with every beat of your heart. And much to your surprise and embarrassment, you found yourself aroused, every fiber of your being needing Javier.

He stood in front of you know, deep concern in his eyes as he regarded you. You watched as he raised his hands up, ready to wrap his arms around you, until he saw the blood on his hand, and realized you wouldn’t want to be touched right now. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

Without saying anything, you placed the blade back into your clutch, not bothering to recover it back up. You grabbed the handkerchief instead, and you felt his eyes on you as you grasped his wrist gently with your other hand, pulling it towards you. He had his jacket on still, which did enough to hide the blood that stained his clothes, but a few specks still dotted the white sleeves of his shirt that poked out.

Pulling him toward the wash bin, you dipped the handkerchief into the water before you got to work on wiping away his skin. He tried to protest, but you cut him off with a gentle yet firm look.Javier set his blade on the dresser, and the two of you stood in silence, the only sound your breathing and the occasional splash of water as you redipped the handkerchief into it. The water turned from clear to a rusty brown as you worked, which you watched with rapt attention, scared of how you would react when you looked into his eyes.

As you dipped it into the water for the final time, Javier finally spoke, his voice still a bit raspy. “Guess you don’t need those knife lessons, then.”

You chuckled, setting the rag down on the dresser as it turned into a loud laughter that shook your body. You weren’t quite sure why you were responding like this, but you figured it was probably shock. You didn’t even register that you were crying until you felt his freshly cleaned hands rest on the sides of your face tentatively, growing more confident when you nodded your consent. He murmured your name softly, brushing your tears away with his thumbs. “Mierda, sorry. It was a bad joke…”

“It was funny,” you said through tears. “It’s just… God, I felt so weak. I haven’t felt that scared since… forever.”

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head, mouth opening to respond, but a fresh wave of tears threatened to overwhelm you. Not trusting yourself to speak, you practically crashed yourself against his chest. Javier cried out softly, startled, as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him in close in a tight hug. His familiar scent helped to calm you, and when you felt him reciprocate the hug, strong arms tight around you, you felt your heart rate begin to slow. You're sure your makeup was running on to his jacket, but it didn’t matter now; it was already dirty.

His fingers traced soothing patterns on your back, and he rested his head on top of yours. You're not sure if he held you for a few moments or a few hours, time seemingly nonexistent beyond the two of you. But of course, reality was quick to catch up with you, the sound of the door being kicked down hardly pulling you from his embrace as you spun around, grabbing the knife on the dresser before Javier could.

Arthur stood in the doorway with his hands up, eyes flicking from the knife in your hands to the man unconscious on the floor, quickly connecting the dots. “Don’t do that shit, Arthur,” you snapped, practically slamming the knife back down on the dresser. “I could’ve hurt you…”

“Are you alright?” He asked, typically not caring for his own safety. He approached you like you were a spooked horse, though, which was quickly annoying you.

“What do you think, you idiot?” A voice behind you interjected, and you felt him slide his hand across you back as he moved around you. His eyes were blazing with anger, getting into Arthur’s space. “What the hell happened?” You watched Javier shove the other man, which he took, guilt evident on his face, but you saw the angry storm clouds begin to roll in behind Arthur’s eyes.

“You had one job, and you fucked it up!” Another shove, and you watched Arthur’s jaw clench. “You nearly got her assaulted!” Javier's voice had raised significantly in volume, emotion causing his voice to break ever so slightly as he spoke. “How did you-”

“You think I don’t know that?” Arthur finally snapped, which was a hard thing to do. Guilt probably snipped his fuse, and the immediate attack by Javier ignited it. “You don’t think I’ve been fightin’ like hell to get up here?” He scoffed. “It ain’t my fault you asked the most recognized man in camp to tag along with y’all!”

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?” Javier challenged. “You wanna know why, then, you asshole? Because you’re the only one I trust to make sure nothing happens to her,” he snarled, jabbing his finger into Arthur’s chest. “You think Micah, or Sean, or Bill would give two shits if someone dragged her away?” He shook his head with a sneer on his mouth. Arthur didn’t respond, but his silence was all that Javier needed. He took a breath, stepping back a few paces from Arthur.

“You know I wouldn’t let anything happen to her, right?” Arthur’s voice was soft, which was surprising given the circumstance. “But you know she doesn’t need our constant protection, right?”

Whatever temporary peace that had been created between the two men shattered instantly, Javier getting right back into the other man’s face. “She didn’t even have a damn gun, Arthur. All she had was a tiny knife that could barely hurt a mouse. The only reason she managed to get him,” he pointed angrily at Lee, not bothering to turn his head to look at him, “was because she caught him off guard. And I know she doesn’t need my- our protection. I’ve seen her toss men double her size to the ground with ease, I’ve seen her knockout men with a single punch. I’ve seen it all.” Javier took a deep breath before continuing. “But that was when she was free to move, without having that goodman dress on. She can barely even walk, let alone defend herself tonight.”

“You stepped in before anythin’ could happen.” Arthur tried to reassure the man.

“But what if I hadn’t? What if I had been in another room, too busy robbing that bastard to even notice? What if there had been more than one guy in here? What if he drugged her, or what if I didn’t hear her approaching down the hallway?” Javier began to pace as he ranted, running his fingers through his hair, pulling part of it out of the tie.

As entertaining and endearing as it was to hear them argue about you, you were tired of being talked about like you weren’t even there. Clearing your throat gently, you got their attention, Arthur giving you an apologetic smile. Javier took a little bit longer to catch your eye, having to turn around to do so, but you watched as the fire in him immediately fizzled out as he looked at you, any anger left in his body leaving in a final shaky exhale.

You smiled gently, folding your hands in front of you. You had taken your gloves off during their disagreement, the garments becoming wet while you cleaned Javier’s hands, and you had tucked them away into your bag. You watched as his gaze went down to your intertwined hands, a smile about to grace his own lips before it was overtaken by a shocked gasp.

Everyone’s eyes in the room followed where Javier was looking, with similar reactions across the board. Where Lee had gripped you was an already bruise in the shape of his hand, encompassing almost the entirety of your wrist. You hadn’t realized he grabbed you that hard. Looking back up, you saw an outraged look on Arthur’s face, but it was nothing compared to the sheer hatred and disgust on Javier’s. You were grateful that you still had his knife by you, or else Lee’s blood would be spilt right now.

A combination of curses and Spanish left Javier’s lips as he pulled away from Arthur, finally giving the other man space. You expected him to make his way over to you, which he started to do, but he halted a few steps in. Confused, you cocked a brow at him, and he just shook his head, backing away backwards toward the door. “I’m gonna get the carriage,” you heard him mutter, eyes fixated on the bruise on your wrist as he continued to back away.

“Javier-” you tried to stop him, but it was clear he wasn’t in the right headspace to listen.

“I’ll see you in a minute, mi amor.” And with that, he left you and Arthur alone in stunned silence.

Trying to not seem too upset, you forced a smile on your face, which probably looked as pained as it felt. “Do you think he got the bonds?” You asked, and the other man looked confused. “You know, the thing we came for?”

Recognition flashed across Arthur’s face, and he shook his head. “Don’t think so. Didn’t have enough time, probably. Why?” You briskly made your way over to the safe, getting down on your knees ready to begin cracking it open. “After all that, you’re still worried about the bonds?” Arthur asked in disbelief.

“After all that, I ain’t returnin’ to camp empty handed. Now, tie him up for me,” you gestured at Lee, and Arthur nodded.

“Yes, ma’am,” he muttered, but he still complied, and you rolled your eyes before preparing yourself to get to work. You weren’t an expert at cracking safes by any means, but you could get it done with enough time. The metal was cold against your face as you pressed it against it, listening to the inner workings of the safe. You were able to see Arthur move out of the corner of your eye as you began to turn the dial slowly, listening for the telltale click.

It was when Arthur finished tying up the man that you heard the first click, and you glanced down to see what the first digit of the code was.

34.

Moving the dial to the right, you felt Arthur watch you while you worked, but you paid him no mind. That was until you heard him talk, nearly causing you to jump because of how focused you were on the safe. “You know, I haven’t seen Javier that angry in years. He used to be filled with hate and anger toward the world, but it died down as the years passed.”

You merely hummed along, not fully paying attention to his words. Another click hit your ears, and you took a mental note of the next number. 28. Arthur continued. “I’m still surprised he’s still callin’ you that, like you don’t know what it means.”

Your curious eyes flicked to him, and realization dawned on his face. He laughed with an almost childish grin. “You don’t know what it means, do ya’?”

You sighed. “No, ‘cause everytime I ask, no one tells me! Especially you! Now, hush. I’m tryin’ to concentrate.” Arthur left you alone then, and you continued to turn the dial slowly to the left, waiting to find the final digit for the safe.

Finally, the third click rang throughout the room, the final digit being 4. The safe door creaked open, exposing its contents to you and Arthur. Inside contained a stack of papers, which you assumed to be bonds, a few clips of cash, and a small gold ingot. With a satisfactory smile, you gestured for Arthur to bring you your clutch, which he did. You pulled the gloves out, quickly slipping them back on even though they were wet. All paper items went into the bag (and you were sure to make sure the blade did not wreck them), and you took the ingot into your own hands. It always caught you off guard, how heavy gold ingots actually were.

You stood up, heading over to the dresser and grabbing Javier’s knife while handing Arthur the gold ingot, which he stashed away. Where, you weren’t quite sure, but it disappeared from sight. You had just enough room to place the knife in your bag, the thing barely closing before you tucked it under your arm. You left the soiled handkerchief on the dresser, and you started to move towards the door before Arthur’s voice stopped you. “He’s callin’ you ‘his love’.”

“What?”

“Mi amor,” Arthur’s Spanish wasn’t even comparable to Javier’s, but it was understandable. “It translates to ‘my love’.”

You were stunned, blinking back at him with wide eyes. “You’re kiddin’ me.” Arthur shook his head. “This entire time he’s been callin’ me-” you cut yourself off, rubbing a hand down your face, being careful to not smudge the makeup completely. “So you mean to tell me, that instead of me livin’ in constant doubt about how he felt about me, I could’ve known, but you and everyone back at camp refused to tell me?”

Arthur rubbed nervously at the back of his neck, guilt once again eating away at him. He didn’t respond, so you laughed bitterly. “Now I’m startin’ to regret that I didn’t end up hurtin’ you earlier.” Huffing angrily, you didn’t spare either Arthur or the man tied up on the bed a glance, quickly reaching the door in angry strides. “C’mon. I wanna leave this damn place.”

Arthur didn’t need to be told twice, following behind you as you marched down the hallway and back down the stairs. It was easy to slip away from the party, everyone was too drunk or too busy in conversation to notice. The silence outside was a complete shock to your system, your ears ringing loudly as you took a deep breath.

Just like he said, Javier was waiting beside the carriage, eyes following you as you descended the stairs. It melted any cold from the night, and like in the party, you felt that need for more grow inside you. You felt Arthur move behind you, cutting across the front lawn to reach his horse. As you reached the carriage, Bill’s voice broke the silence. “You get the whiskey?”

Shit. “No, I’m sorry. Things went bad in there.”

Bill sighed, disappointed, but he didn’t speak further. “Here,” you dug out one of the clips of money, practically having to toss it at him, “it ain’t whiskey, but it’s just as good in my opinion.”

The corners of his mouth tugged up, and you knew that he accepted your new gift, tucking it away into his jacket pocket. Javier uncrossed his arms once you were within reach, once again helping you into the carriage. You could practically feel the tension from him, his entire body tightly coiled as you settled into your seat.

Again, you expected to follow in behind you, but he was quickly shutting the door. You stopped it with your hand, and he stopped immediately. “You’re not comin’ in?” Your voice was dispirited, and Javier frowned as he shook his head once.

“You don’t want-”

“Don’t tell me what I want, Javier.” You cut him off, shocking yourself with your directness. “Get in here.”

Wordlessly, he obeyed, sitting across from you again. It looked like he had a thousand things to say, but he remained silent. Bill almost immediately took off, but you better prepared than last time, managing to not lurch forward. To say the air between the two of you was awkward would be an understatement, and you found yourself looking out the window, watching the streetlights as you passed them.

After about a minute of silence, you saw Javier shift out of the corner of your eye, so you refocused your attention on him. “I’m sorry,” you heard him murmur, barely audible over the hoofs of the horses and the sound of the wheels rolling over the cobblestone.

“Javier, you couldn’t have known that would happen,” you sighed, wanting nothing more than to take his hand in yours. “And I knew that things could go bad tonight.”

“It’s not that. Well, I am sorry about that, I’m not sayin’ I’m not, but-” he paused for a moment, recollecting his thoughts. “I’m sorry about the way I acted. And for talking like you weren’t right there. And for implying that you couldn’t protect yourself. I’m sorry, for all of it.”

“I’m not the one you should be apoligzin’ to,” you laughed lightly, and you felt successful when you saw a light smile on Javier. “And emotions were high tonight, and even the best of us snap sometimes. And you weren’t completely wrong about the dress,” you adjusted the bodice of said dress, trying and failing to gain more room to move. “But, thank you. It… it means a lot.”

A lot of the tension dissipated from Javier as you accepted his apology, leaning back against the back of his seat finally. He had taken off his jacket while he was gone, leaving him only in his vest, necktie and undershirt, and the sleeves had been rolled up, hiding the splotches of blood from view. Even in the dim light, you were able to clearly see the definition of his forearms flexing against the shirt, even more so when he crossed his arms against his chest.

Thick veins traveled down his hands and arms, and you couldn’t stop the thoughts of what those hands might be able to do to you from running through your head. It surprised you, having these thoughts. If you had had these thoughts days, or even hours ago, your mind would be spiraling into a panic. Instead, you found your mind spiraling into lustful thoughts, and you found yourself having to look away, cheeks growing warm.

Javier didn’t seem to notice your staring, too deep in thought to do so. After a few moments of silence, he finally spoke again. “Why didn’t you have me kill him?” Anger flashed in his eyes at the thought of the other man, but he kept in check.

You still weren’t quite sure, and you voiced that to Javier. “I think I didn’t want you to because I was having a good night, and watching someone die kinda ruins that.” If your words were blunt, Javier didn’t seem to care.

“A ‘good’ night?” Javier looked at you like you’d grown a second head. “Mi amor, if that’s your idea of a ‘good’ night then…” he trailed off.

Now knowing what he was saying, you felt your heart skip a beat. You should’ve realized a long time ago what it meant, you realized. His voice was always filled with adoration when he said it, and a bashful yet cocky smirk would follow. “Besides the last twenty minutes,” you laughed. “I was having a good night because I was with you, my love.” It felt like a confession, and you kept your voice low, but you were sure to add extra emphasis on the final two words.

Javier’s eyes widened, forearms flexing as he readjusted his crossed arm. “Finally figured it out, then?” He teased, but there was an underlying panic in his voice, not aware if you liked it or not.

You nodded, diverting your gaze as you prepared for your next question. “Do you mean it?” Your voice was small, vulnerable.

Javier responded with a confused noise. Shifting nervously, your hands felt clammy under the gloves. “Do you mean it when you call me ‘my love’? ‘Cause I know you like me, and that’s great… but I want to know.” Do you love me? You breathed shakily. Why was this so hard?

Silence fell over the carriage, and you dared to look back at the man across from you. His arms now rested on his elbow, and when he noticed your attention was back on him he smiled, extending a hand for you to grab. When you did, he covered it with his other, kissing the back of it before doing so. You almost wished at that point that you hadn’t put your gloves back on, wanting to feel his lips against your skin.

“I said I would never lie to you, and I mean it. I never said anything to you that I didn’t believe.” He shifted closer to you, your knees pressing against each other. “I mean it, every single time. I…” It would’ve been funny, in any other context, to see Javier at a loss for words. “I know there are thousands of different ways I could say this, but I can’t remember a single one. It’s like my brain just turns off whenever I’m near you,” he chuckled.

Your heart was hammering so loudly in your chest that you were sure Javier could hear it. It burned where your hands were connected, but it was a delicious pain, one that you never wanted to be rid of. It was reassuring to know that you weren’t the only one who got nervous around the other, then.

“So, I guess I’ll keep it simple, then. I love you, and, if you’ll have me, I want… you. I want to be by your side, through the good and the bad. I want to wake up by your side, your voice the first thing I hear every morning. I want to know your thoughts, your fears, your desires.” He sighed, smiling. “I, well, I guess all that was to say I mean it.”

You expected to feel a sense of dread, some sort of anxiety over your changing relationship, and what that could possibly lead to, but you found none. Before you could even register what you were doing, you were leaning into him, pressing a light kiss against his cheek. It wasn’t long, lips barely there for even a second before you were leaning away. You gasped slightly when you saw the red mark left there by you; apparently you still had more makeup on than you thought. Between curses and apologies, you began to wipe it away with your cloth covered thumb, which seemed to just smear it around.

A light tug at your hand had you stopping, your name being said softly focusing your attention back on to the man. He didn’t seem to mind that your lipstick was now on his face, and his eyes were filled with unbridled love as they danced across your face, before finally settling on your lips, then back up into your eyes. His hand was no longer holding yours, instead it was trailing up your arm, up your neck, finding purchase on the side of your face, holding you with such reverence that it almost brought tears to your eyes.

His eyes went back down to your lips, a soft plea in his gaze. “Let me kiss you,” Javier asked, restraint pulling his voice down an octave. Slowly, you brought your hand up, brushing away a few strands of hair that had been pulled from the tie. His eyes closed at your touch, a pleased noise escaping his mouth. Those same eyes opened when he felt you nod, and you hadn’t realized how easy it was to get lost in them until this moment.

He closed the distance between the two of you, thumb brushing your cheek as your lips finally connected. It felt like everything finally clicked into place, like the final piece of a puzzle. Everything felt right, and you sighed happily against his mouth, resting your hands on his thighs.

It was a short kiss, merely testing the waters, with Javier pulling away first. He rested his head against yours, simply savoring the moment. A quiet, giddy giggle left you, causing Javier to raise a brow. “It’s nothin’… I’m just happy.” It was almost childish, the reason you were really giggling, but who wouldn’t be happy after their first kiss.

“Good,” he murmured, before a concerned look crossed his face.

“What?” You asked, immediately thinking the worst.

“It’s your lipstick.” The thumb that was on your cheek shifted to your lips, running against the lower one.

“What about it?” You had no idea where he was going with this.

“It’s not nearly wrecked enough,” he lamented, and you felt his thumb pull your lip slightly, causing the rouge to smear.

“Are you gonna fix it, then?” You challenged, slowly running your hands slowly up and down his thighs. You’re not sure where this sudden burst of confidence was coming from, but you weren’t complaining. All you knew is that you wanted his mouth on yours again.

“Gladly,” Javier purred, pulling your face to him as he kissed you again. Instead of simply holding his lips to yours, you felt him begin to move this time. It was messy and passionate and it had your head spinning. Gripping on to his legs tighter, you were able to ground yourself. That was until you felt his tongue run against your bottom lip.

You gasped, pulling away an inch to give yourself a moment to breathe, all the foreign sensations causing you to become breathless. Javier, with some visible restraint, didn’t chase after you, giving you a moment to collect yourself. It was at that point that you felt that you almost had a death grip on the man’s legs, and you let go with a soft apology.

He paid it no mind, and you felt his hold on your face lax a bit. “You’ve never kissed before, have you?” He wasn’t anywhere close to being rude about it, but the question still had your blood running cold.

Embarrassed, you felt your face flush even more. You tried to pull away, but he kept you close. You shook your head, not wanting to admit it out loud. “Was it that obvious?” You mumbled, quite upset. Javier went to respond, and you braced yourself for the words that your brain trained you to expect.

What you weren’t expecting was him to be smiling at you, thumb rubbing reassuringly on your cheek again. “I only noticed because you seemed less confident,” Javier explained, with no hint of judgment in his voice. “I guess we need to practice some more, then,” he added with a playful grin.

“I love you,” you whispered, before your hands were grabbing both sides of his face and smashing his lips against yours, both of you smiling into the kiss. Any remnant of anxiety about him vanished as you kissed him, feeling more relaxed than you’ve felt in a while. You pulled him toward you as you sat back in your seat, ignoring the way that the bodice of your dress pressed uncomfortably into your skin. You couldn't be bothered to feel it; all that your senses could feel was him.

He followed as you brought him close, getting on his knees on the carriage floor as he kept his lips locked on yours. Even despite being on the ground, his face was still relatively level with yours, if only a few inches lower. You felt him settle between your legs, at least as best he could with your skirt, hands resting on your hips.

Unlike the other two kisses before, this one had a secondary intent behind it, and you felt that fire in your core return, arousal making you dizzy. You wanted more, and you’re sure that Javier was more than eager to give it to you. One of the hands that grasped his face moved behind him, discarding your gloves to somewhere in the carriage before quickly undoing the tie that held his dark hair in place, causing it to fall around his head. Greedily you ran your fingers through it, a pleased groan felt on Javier’s lips as you combed it.

A nip from him had you gasping, offering him an opportunity to sneak his tongue into your mouth. The act surprised you, inadvertently causing you to grasp his hair, pulling the strands into a fist. You felt him moan in response, the hands on your hips squeezing tighter, but he didn’t move them. Pulling him impossibly closer, you tried your best to keep up with the quick movements of his mouth, moving your lips in tandem with his. You were always a quick learner, anyway.

An aggressive jolt from the carriage forced the two of you to separate, gasps and pants filling the silence. Moonlight filtered in, and you were able to see Javier clearly now. You realized you had never seen him with his hair down before, and beautiful wasn’t even close to the right word to describe him. He looked ethereal, and he was all yours, making your heart thrum happily in your chest.

“You should have your hair down more,” was all you said, smoothing your hand over it. It was soft, well taken care of, and you wanted to keep your hands in it forever.

“Whatever my girl wants,” he responded, pure bliss on his face. You didn’t even bother to hide the happy noise that left you when you heard him call you his girl.

Glancing down at his lips, you saw they were practically the same color as yours now, smeared messily across the lower half of his face. You’re sure you looked just as bad, and you registered that it would be hard to hide what the two of you got up to from the rest of camp. But you found that you didn’t care that much.

An image flashed in your head as you watched him; his exposed chest covered in your kiss marks, from his neck to his hips, a pretty ring of red rouge around his cock. The thought had you subconsciously rubbing your thighs together, trying to ease the growing tension that was starting to become unbearable, but it was hard to do when there was someone between them.

Javier honed in on the movement immediately, working at his bottom lip as he stared up at you with blown out eyes. “More?” He asked, the word sounding breathy.

You nodded, carding your fingers back through his hair to pull him back to you. After meeting you for a quick kiss, you felt him travel down your jaw, peppering kisses along as he did so. You laughed lightly when you felt him move to your neck, the soft prickle of his facial hair tickling you, and he smiled against your skin.

The hands of your hips began to explore now, one rising up your front, touching lightly over the bodice, causing you to shiver. His other hand traveled downward, down your thigh and past your knee, until it was wrapping around your calf. He wrapped your stocking covered leg around his back, causing your shoe to fall off in the process, hitting the floor with a dull noise.

Satisfied, the hand on your leg moved to join the other, stopping once he reached the underside of your breasts. Instead of running his hands over the mounds, he bypassed them completely, running his hands across your shoulders delicately. For the first time, his bare hands were on your skin, and it was everything you’d ever wanted. They were deliciously rough, years of hard living making them so, and a number of calluses adorning the tips from playing stringed instruments, but they also felt like silk, rolling across your body like water. It caused another shiver to wrack your body, and he chuckled, vibrations falling from his chest into yours.

“You’re so responsive,” he noted, his normally smooth voice gravelly. His lips traveled further down your neck, showering your lower neck and collarbones with apt attention. “No one’s touched you like this before, no?” He stated rather than asked, and your silence was a more than adequate answer. “What a shame. They don’t know what they’ve missed.”

“I don’t care,” you said with sheer honesty. “Damn everyone else. I only want your hands on me.”

You felt him pull at the back of your head, pulling you into a searing kiss before pulling away slightly, face mere inches from yours. “Let me make you feel good.” Curious, you gave an inquisitive noise, playing with his hair as you did so. He was already making you feel good, so you weren’t quite sure what he was trying to say.

He let out a small chuckle at your confused expression, pressing a light kiss to the tip of your nose, which was an innocently sweet gesture. His next words were less than innocent, another wave of arousal crashing through you as he spoke. “Let me taste you. I need to feel you fall apart on my mouth.”

You’d be lying if you said that his filthy words weren’t getting you incredibly turned on, but a deep feeling of embarrassment overtook you, and you would’ve turned your head away if you could, but you were forced to just avert your gaze.

“Don’t go getting shy on me now, mi amor,” Javier teased, attempting to get your eyes back on him. “It takes more than a few words to get my girl nervous, hm?”

Laughing mostly at yourself, you finally looked into his eyes, a calming smile greeting you. “So, what say you? Are you going to let me eat you out?” He said it so nonchalantly, like it wasn’t completely turning you into a mess. Forcing back the shame, you nodded, not trusting your voice. Javier wasn’t satisfied, and with a disapproving noise he placed another kiss on your nose, causing you to laugh lightly. “Use your words.”

Javier was giving you a second chance to change your mind, you realized, not wanting you to do something that you would regret. It was a nice gesture, but what he didn’t know was that you made up your mind hours ago; you needed him so badly that it almost hurt. “Please,” you responded, your mouth was moving faster than your brain.

He didn’t respond, smiling gratefully at you, like you just offered him something luxurious. One final kiss met your lips before he was descending your body, trailing back over where his lips had been moments prior. One of your hands tangled in his hair when you felt him ghost his lips across the top of your breasts, grinning when he felt the goosebumps form. He didn’t stay there long, a single goal on his mind as he descended further down.

When he no longer had exposed skin to kiss, he rested his head by your knees, staring up at you adoringly as his hands continued to travel down. In the back of your mind, you remembered hearing stories from the girls at camp about lovers they had, how they treated going down on a woman like a chore, or how some just outright refused to do. The hungry glint in his eye and the almost desperate touch of his hand told you that you didn’t have to worry about that.

When he reached your hips, he pulled you forward, forcing you to lean back further in order for your back to reach the back of your seat. If you barely had any airflow then, you had none now, a sharp pain growing in your lungs as you shifted around, trying to get comfortable. Javier quickly noticed this, a concerned frown pulling at his lips. “Dress,” you gasped out, and he quickly got to work unworking the bow and laces that held the corset bodice tight, a pleased sigh leaving you as you felt it loosen its grip on your body. He didn’t undo it completely, the garment still on well enough to keep your body from being exposed, but it was enough that you could get more comfortable.

You didn’t even get to mutter out a ‘thank you’ before he was getting back to it, hands pulling apart your thighs. Your skirt had bunched up when he had pulled your leg around his back, giving him enough room to sneak his head between your spread legs. Your skirt still covered the entirety of his head, only peeks of hair visible to you.

Warm breath caressed your sensitive inner thigh, and you fought the urge to wrap them around his face. Featherlight kisses were felt next, small jolts rocking through you with each touch, increasing in intensity as he reached your aching center. He tugged at the waistband at your undergarments, having you lift your hips slightly so he could peel them away. Pulling them all the way off, he set them somewhere on the seat behind him.

Your hips bucked when you felt him press a kiss to your exposed cunt, humming appreciatively when he felt your arousal, which had no doubt soaked through to your undergarments. “You’re this wet from kissing?” He asked, mostly to himself, and it was barely audible under your heavy clothing, but you felt the need to defend your dignity.

“It wasn’t just the kissin’,” you managed to get out, hips bucking again when he yet again teased you with his mouth. You felt one of his arms sneak out from under your skirt, broad forearm settling across your waist to keep you in place. “Watchin’ you threaten him…”

You didn’t have to see him to know he had a cocky grin on his face. “That got you all bothered?” He asked, bewilderment and desire both lacing his question. Warm air hit you as he talked, causing you to squirm anticipatorily in your seat.“You’re a dirty little thing, aren’t you?”

“Only for you.”

You felt more than heard the responding growl, his grip tightening on your waist as he ran his tongue through your folds, almost immediately going back through for a second, a third, a fourth time. Rolling your head back, pleased noises tumbled from your lips, your other leg almost immediately joining your other around his back. You felt him mutter something, and the broad swipes of his tongue turned to short precise licks, targeting your clit with precise movements.

The change in sensations had you crying out, hands scarbling at his arm as you tried to find something to hold on to. He chuckled lowly, the vibrations shooting straight to your core. “As much as I’d love to hear you, we don’t want anyone finding out what’s going on in here, do we?” You both knew damn well that nothing could be heard outside the carriage, but the idea of having to keep quiet to prevent your friends from knowing turned you on more than it should. Your body must’ve reacted some way, and you heard him groan appreciatively. “You are dirty.” He sounded a million miles away, but it still felt like his mouth was pressed to your ear.

Now attempting to muffle yourself, you bit at your lips, most likely drawing blood. His mouth worked at you so much better than you could’ve imagined, your fingers nothing compared to this. Nothing you had ever done to please yourself had felt this good; now that you had a taste of what someone else could do to you, you never wanted to go back.

A particularly rough flick of his tongue had you whining, pressing a hand on your mouth to stifle your cries. He brought out every drop of pleasure from your body with such ease, like it was second nature. You felt that familiar pressure begin to form in your abdomen, one that normally took you so much longer to reach yourself. He was almost too good at this, playing your body like it was his guitar, his talented mouth pulling noises from you like he was strumming his fingers across the strings.

All thoughts left your mind when you felt his lips latch around your clit, sucking the toying with the sensitive nerves. A plethora of exclamations tumble from your lips, the most frequent one being his name. It seemed to spur him on even more, and you felt his free hand trail up your thigh, resting at the inner junction of your leg and hip. His fingers rubbed soothingly at the sensitive flesh as he continued his ministrations with his tongue. “Javi…” your voice was too breathless to complete his name, and you tried your best to warn him of your upcoming release, which was coming faster than you knew how to process.

He didn’t verbally respond. Instead, you felt him adjust your lower body so that your hips were almost level with his face, your back hardly able to rest against your seat. The new angle made it hard to keep your legs wrapped around his lower back, so you let them go limp, no longer on the man. Javier didn’t seem to like this, almost immediately taking your legs and resting them on his shoulders, which was much more comfortable than the two previous positions. He hadn’t detached himself during the entire readjustment process, tongue and lips still expertly bringing you closer to your release.

The hand at your thigh moved inward, almost so slowly that you barely registered it. You moaned, slightly startled, when you felt those broad fingers spread you apart, tongue delving between them before almost immediately returning its attention to your clit.

You felt him move his face downward, the new angle allowing him to do so with ease, his fingers following. Feeling them tease around your entrance, and you half-braced yourself for the intrusion you were sure was bound to happen with his fingers. Instead, you felt them move to where his tongue had been, rubbing them against you with the perfect amount of pressure and speed that had you crying out. His tongue instead teased around your entrance, pushing in a tiny bit before retracting, slowly easing you to take his tongue.

The pressure in you increased tenfold as he slowly started to fuck you with his tongue, dexterous fingers adding to the ecstasy your body was feeling. “Javier, I’m close,” you managed to murmur out, before crying out again, barely able to muffle yourself this time. Your fingers dug into the muscle of his arm, most likely leaving crescent shaped indents from your nails.

With his mouth quite preoccupied, the most he could do was groan something in response. Your muffled cries of his name turned to small gasps as pants, teetering closer and closer to reaching your peak. As best you could, you carded your fingers through the hand that held you down, desperately needing something to hold as you came. Without missing a beat, he flipped his hand so that his forearm still locked your hips down, but it gave you his hand to hold, your fingers shaky as you gripped his.

With a final cry of his name, your lips bruising from the way you clamped down on it, you felt your release wash over you. Your thighs clamped around his head, but he didn’t seem to mind, fingers and tongue not stopping as he drew out every bit of pleasure from your orgasm. Head thumping against the wall of the carriage, you felt your hips buck slightly with each jolt that passed through your body, letting up in intensity as the aftershocks wore off.

Eventually, Javier let up, a cold shiver wracking your body at the lack of his heat. Pulling back your skirt away from his face, the two of you sat in silence for a second, both processing what the hell just happened. A chuckle spilled from you, a light smile on your face that Javier mirrored. He looked as disheveled as you felt, hair tousled and completely out of place. He only had a few light remnants of your lipstick left, his lower face instead was now covered in your arousal, it glistening in the pale moonlight. A proud smirk greeted you as he realized what you were looking at, and you wiped it away as best you could, resting your hand on the side of his face when you were done. You’re sure you looked like a mess as well, but Javier looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Pulling him back up to your face level, you smashed your lips against his, and you felt his tongue run against the seam of your lips. Opening your lips to let him in, you let out a groan when you were able to taste yourself, the filthiness of it all causing a fresh wave of arousal to wash over you. Running your free hand down his chest, you toyed with his belt, a slight desperation in your touch as you unbuckle his belt.

Not even bothering to get it all the way off, you let it hang open, and you fiddled with the zipper, opening it after some difficulty. Brushing your fingers against his cock beneath his underwear, which had become deliciously hard, and you felt him shudder, breaking the kiss to exhale a breathy noise. “Mi amor.” It sounded like a mix of a plea and a warning.

“Sit,” you whispered, yet it held no room for argument.

After a second’s pause, Javier complied, and you could tell he expected you to follow him with. You would’ve found it funny, the way he let out a shocked moan, when you sunk to your knees, but you only had one thing on your mind.

Framing your knees on each side of his waist, he moved up the skirts to allow you enough room to straddle his lap. You felt his hands move from your skirts to your waist, and his cock pressed right up against your exposed center. You felt him begin to rut his hips the tiniest amount, running his cock through your folds. It was at that point that reality kind of hit you, and you felt that familiar feeling of anxiety begin to trouble your mind, but you pushed it away.

One of his hands sneaked between your bodies, and you felt him hold himself upright. “Are you ready?” You heard him ask, the hand remaining on your waist squeezing reassuringly. You nodded, saying a hushed yes as you did so.

Rising up onto your knees, you adjusted yourself so that the tip nudged your entrance. Both of you let out similar noises as you began to sink down onto him, and you rested your head against his neck. It was less painful than you thought it would be. Sure, the stretch of your muscles as they accommodated the intrusion was unpleasant, but it wasn’t downright painful. “Take it slow,” you heard him say through a clenched jaw.

Holding his shoulders for support, you eased yourself down inch by inch, your moans becoming more frequent as you felt him deeper and deeper inside you. He was already far deeper than you’d ever been able to go with your fingers, and you weren’t even close to having your hips flush with his.

Javier muttered praises to you, moving his hand from between the two of you to rub your lower back. “You’re doing so good,” you heard him say, lips pressing against the side of your head. “Just a little more.”

The slight discomfort you were feeling, the stretch of muscles causing a dull throbbing to spread across your abdomen, was quickly turning into a pleasurable feeling. Mumbling something out in response, you heard him chuckle softly, affectionately pressing another kiss to your head.

A few more moments passed, your legs beginning to shake from the exertion of holding yourself up. Relief flooded your body when you felt his hips meet yours, and you let yourself relax on his lap now that he was fully sheathed in you. “Just like that, mi amor. You- fuck, you feel so good,” you heard Javier pant, voice raspy. Raising your head from his neck, you pulled him into a messy kiss as you let yourself get used to the feeling of him inside you.

Both of you broke the kiss simultaneously when you began to move, lifting yourself off his cock before sinking back down. It was slow, and the drag of him across your walls felt so incredible that you felt your head rolling back. A gentle hand brought it back. “I want to see you,” was all Javier said. You were sure to keep your head still as you repeated the action again, slightly faster than the last.

Bitting again at your lip to keep yourself quiet, you were quickly able to fall into a rhythm, moving yourself down his length with increasing speed. Pleasure bloomed in your cunt, and you felt yourself clench around him with another drag. Javier choked our name, which sounded hotter than you thought it would be, and your body reacted accordingly. He moaned out your name again, smirking when your body reacted the same way. “Does my girl like that? Does she like hearing me cry out her name?” It was a rhetorical question, but you still found yourself nodding.

Your legs were beginning to hurt, but you pushed on, the start of a new orgasm beginning to create itself. You felt Javier's eyes on your face, enraptured by the expressions on it. In any other circumstance, you would’ve found his close examination of you nerve wracking, but right now it was adding fuel to the fire growing in you.

After a few more moments, your legs were really starting to hurt, barely able to lift yourself again. “Javier, I…”

“Do you want me to take over?”

When you nodded, you felt his hands secure themselves on your waist. “You did so good, mi amor,” you heard him praise, and you felt him slowly begin to lift you, fingers digging into your skin. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, before he was bringing you back down.

It took no time at all for him to return to the pace you had set, lifting you up and down like you weighed nothing. You moaned out his name, your head almost rolling back again, but you caught yourself. His hips began to snap up every time he pulled you down, somehow reaching even deeper than before, and the added pleasure was bringing you right to the edge of your release. “I’m gonna-” another snap of your hips cut you off, an unitelliagble noise replacing your words.

“Me too.” Javier’s voice sounded thoroughly wrecked. “Where do you want me?”

It took a second for you to realize what he was asking, and if your brain wasn’t so filled with lust, your answer would’ve been completely different from the one you gave him. “Inside,” you answered, and you felt him falter completely.

“Fuck, amor,” Javier began thrusting into you with reckless abandon, and in the back of your mind you prayed that Bill would not be able to feel it. The heightened speed had you reaching your end faster than you expected, and with a quite loud cry of his name you came, walls fluttering around him. Javier wasn’t too far behind, and with one final thrust he spilled into you, warmth flooding you.

Sagging against Javier, the two of you sat in silence for a few moments, basking in the afterglow. He no longer held on to your waist, trailing his fingers lightly over your back. After pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, you felt him sigh. “As much as I’d love to keep you like this, we are almost back.”

Glancing out one of the windows, you saw that Javier was right, familiar scenery rushing past your eyes. Not bothering to hide the disappointment on your face, you slowly lifted yourself off him for a final time, barely able to do so because your legs were jelly. You made a small whining noise when you felt his release spill from you, and if you weren’t so focused on trying to make it back to your seat without falling then you would’ve seen the way Javier’s eyes darkened hungrily.

You were barely in your seat before he was back on you, having tucked himself back away into his pants, peppering many kisses across your lips and jaw until you were a giggling mess. Wrapping your arms around his head and shoulders, you pulled him into a deep hug, pressing your own lips on top of his head, a happy smile on your face. Content, he sighed deeply, even more so when you started rubbing your fingers across his scalp.

With a regretful smile, Javier pulled away, and he slowly began to redress you. Starting with your undergarments, which quickly became soaked with his spend. Your stockings were put back on next, your shoes quickly following behind. The act of Javier redressing you almost left more intimate than what you two had just done, and you felt your heart thump erratically in your chest at the reverence of it all.

Finally, you watched him sit upright on his knees, bringing himself level to you again. With one of his thumbs, you felt him wipe away the rouge that had smudged across your lips, another proud smile gracing him.

“Did you fix it?” You teased, referencing back to a few moments ago, your voice hoarse and scratchy.

“I think so. Though we can always try again later.” You felt another pass of his thumb under your bottom lip.

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “You’re insatiable, you know that?”

His hand stilled. “Can you blame me?”

You didn’t respond, and you felt him continue to clean you up.

When he deemed it done, you felt his thumb rest on your lips, brushing over the plump skin, not making a move to leave just yet. His eyes followed the movements of the digit, widening when you took it into your mouth. Bobbing your head once, you worked it between your lips, releasing it with a pop. Darkened eyes bore in you. “You’re making it quite hard to stop right here, mi amor.” You chose to not laugh at the innuendo. “That’s the point.”

He chuckled, which sounded more like a pained exhale through his nose, before removing his hand away from you. He moved back into his seat, lounging with a content expression, and you wanted nothing more than to climb back into his lap. Noticing your staring, you watched him spread his legs, providing you with an unobscured view of the way he was already getting hard again

Your hungry eyes traveled across his lower body, which Javier found highly entertaining, that cocky smirk returning. “And you say I’m insatiable,” he joked, hints of his own desire creeping into his voice.

Before you could respond, the carriage coming to a sudden halt pulled you two from the little bubble you had created. A glance out the surprisingly not fogged window confirmed that you had arrived back at camp, a brightly lit campfire the only thing clearly visible in the dark night. Sighing, you grabbed the last of your belongings, tucking the clutch back under your arm and stuffing your gloves in your other hand, not bothering to put them back on. You watched as Javier quickly fixed up his hair, smoothing down the strands that were sticking up.

In typical fashion, he left first, helping you out with a hand, the same one that had just pulled one of the two . That fact had you hesitating for half-a-second before grabbing it, and if Javier noticed, he didn’t say anything, but he smirked at you knowingly. Cold air immediately cooled your overheated skin, goosebumps forming where sweat had been. You heard a soft thump on the ground as Bill hopped down from the driver’s seat, nodding at the both of you before retiring to his tent, unaware of what had transpired.

Arthur pulled into camp not a few seconds later, having trailed behind the carriage the entire time, following behind the two of you as you headed over to Dutch once he hopped off his horse. Arthur didn’t say anything, not quite knowing how Javier would react, and he kept his distance. When Javier rested his hand on your back, leading you toward Dutch’s tent, you could feel his stare, and you didn’t have to turn to know that he had a shit-eating grin on.

You were grateful for the touch on your back, not only because you wanted it, but because it also kept you steady, legs still partially jelly as you hobbled over. If anyone asked, you could just blame it on the shoes.

Dutch greeted you and the two other men warmly, sitting at a table with Hosea and Micah, a bottle of whiskey in his hand. You three said your own greetings, Arthur moving to slide into the extra open seat at the table. Javier stayed behind you, hand not leaving your body, as you leaned back into him.

“So, I’m gonna assume that because you’re all here in one piece that it went well,” Dutch began, going straight into business.

You heard Javier begin to explain to Dutch that it didn’t, and that he couldn't get his hands on the bond, but you cut him off by digging into your clutch, pulling out the the stacks of paper you’d pulled from the safe, along with a few clips of money, keeping one for yourself and Javier. You dropped them on the center of the table along with the gloves, a pleased whistle leaving Dutched as he eyed it, and you tucked the bag away. You’d give Javier his knife back later. “There was also a gold bar, which Arthur had.”

The cowboy nodded, pulling it from a satchel, and you realized that was how he had hidden it before. How he got into the party, you’d never know. Sliding across the table to Dutch, he weighed it in his hands, before passing it to Hosea who examined it more closely. You could feel the shock from Javier, gratitude and curiosity in his eyes as he watched you.

Micah began to converse with Hosea about the gold, Hosea only answering in short, clipped sentences. Dutch and Arthur were already deep into conversation, Dutch giving you no more than a half-hearted thanks before seemingly dismissing you and Javier. Your skin felt sticky and your undergarments were growing more and more uncomfortable, and you wanted nothing more than to leave. Javier began to leave, but you stayed put, steeling yourself. You had one last thing you needed to say.

“Dutch,” you kept your voice neutral, and he regarded you with a hum, still not turning away from Arthur. “Don’t you ever send me on a job like that again.” You tried to not word it like a threat, but it still came out as one.

Immediately, all conversation halted, clear shock written across all the men’s faces. The odd chair creaked as Dutch turned to face you now, his expression unreadable. Never, during the entire time you’d been with the gang, had you ever talked back to Dutch in any sort of manner, and it caught everyone off guard, including yourself. Heart thudding anxiously, you awaited a response from the leader, unable to tell if you had just pissed him off. You watched Arthur’s eyes flick between Dutch and you, also unsure of where this was heading. Hosea seemed to be the only one not worried, and you swore you saw the older outlaw smirk in the low light.

“And why’s that?” Micah interjected, but you ignored him, biting back the anger that threatened to overtake you. Deep breaths, now.

After a few beats of tense silence, Dutch finally responded. “Noted,” was all he said, nodding as he spoke. A sound of protest left Micah, but Dutch disregarded it. “You did well tonight.”

Nodding, you muttered a quick goodnight, before quickly getting the hell away from the table before the calmness dissipated. Javier followed not far behind, no longer in reach to touch you, and he laughed so lightly that you barely heard it. Turning your shoulder, you questioned him with a look.

“You’re incredible, you know that?”

“Oh, hush,” you waved him away, ignoring the flush in your cheeks at his compliment.

“I mean it!” Javier laughed, moving closer to that he was able to stop you with a gentle tug of your waist. You realized that you had walked back to the edge of camp, near where the carriage was parked at the entrance. The two of you were relatively shrouded in the dark, trees helping to block you from the camp. A few people beside the men at the table still lingered around camp, but they were too preoccupied with what they were doing to notice you and Javier.

“There I was, having completely disregarded the whole job, and you just went along and did it yourself. And you know I normally wouldn’t condone you talking to Dutch like that,” Javier pulled you in close by your hips, his own pressed against your backside, “I would be a liar if I said I didn’t find you incredibly hot asserting yourself like that.” He nipped at your ear, his facial hair causing you to giggle. It turned into a moan when you ground yourself against him, feeling the still noticeable bulge there. No wonder he chose to stay close behind you as you talked with Dutch.

You went to tease him about it, but were promptly cut off when you felt him press himself into you, his member protruding into you, pretty much ready to go. As Javier began to lead you away to the woods, you realized that you were not going to get a lot of sleep tonight.

You found that you didn’t care.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #javier escuella smut #javier escuella x you #javier escuella rdr2 #javier escuella x reader #javier escuella

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cambion-companion · 2 years

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Drunk reader: aemond would u still love me if i were a worm 🥺👉👈

Oh ffs

yes I had to guys, I had to. I had just settled in to write some smut and then this appeared in my inbox lmfao

Tag List: @darylandbethfanforever9@fuckinglittlekitten@bored-and-nerdy@echos-muses@moni-cah@mothertower@runningmunson@gabrieletargaryen

Word count: 588

Aemond x drunk!reader | drabble | I couldn't not

"Y/N, slow down." Aemond covered your goblet with his large hand as you eagerly hoisted the pitcher of wine to pour another glass for yourself.

You pouted at your husband; half tempted to spill some wine on him anyway. "I am not drunk, Aemond."

"You sound quite defensive." He slid the goblet along the table, out of your reach. "Also, that," He gestured to the wine jug you held, "is a vase of flowers."

"Ah."

"Indeed."

You carefully placed the bouquet back, misjudging your aim, and sending the vase tumbling over the edge of the table to the ground with a clatter. Aemond tsked at you as servants hurriedly gathered to clear the mess of petals and water.

You sent him what you hoped to be a withering glare, though it probably looked more like you were about to vomit. You grabbed the actual pitcher of wine, looked longingly at your glass so far out of reach, before taking several gulps directly from the large silver flagon.

Aemond cursed, reaching for you, but not before you had made your point of hardheaded independence. Several seats down, deep in his cups, Aegon cheered you on. Aemond shot his brother a murderous look before he successfully wrested the wine jug from your drunken grasp.

You placed your head upon you hand sulkily, eyeing your husband with deep sadness.

Aemond returned your morose look with a quirked eyebrow, the corners of his curved mouth twitching.

Several moments passed, the sound of Aegon refilling his own cup mocking you.

"Aemond, if I was a worm, would you still love me?"

A heavy sigh from your husband was your only answer.

"Your wife asked you an important question, brother." Aegon tittered from where he lounged with one foot upon the tabletop. "Worms are deserving of love just as we are." He raised a toast to his own wisdom and drank.

You watched him, envious, before turning back to Aemond, your lower lip jutting out.

Aemond, for his part, looked wearily from Aegon to you. Your eyes welled with emotion. "You wouldn't, would you?" A hot tear made it's sad way down your cheek. "You'd leave me, you wouldn't love me anymore."

"Now look what you've done."

"Oh do shut up, Aegon." Aemond hissed at his brother, rising from his seat to come to your side. You were crying in earnest now, raising both arms as Aemond lifted you into his.

Walking was out of the question, so Aemond carried you bridal style to your shared chambers. Aegon's call of "Worms are people too!" Echoing along the stone corridor as he moved away.

Entering your bedroom, Aemond tossed you onto the mattress of your bed, where you bounced several times before lying still, staring with wonder at the arched ceiling.

He undressed you, unlacing your corset, removing your shoes and stockings. Once finished, Aemond laid beside you, caressing your cheek, wiping away the tear stains with his long fingers.

"If you were a worm, I would love you all the same." He intoned, his voice bemused but soft.

"Truly?" You sat up, swaying slightly as you looked at him, joy written across your features.

"Truly."

He grunted as you threw your arms wildly about his neck, kissing every part of his face you could reach. "Oh Aemond, you are the most wonderful husband!"

"I have one condition, however, if I am to love you after you transform."

You pulled back slightly, apprehension hitching your breath. "What is it?"

"You must warn me beforehand."

"I promise." You said, with utmost sincerity.

Aemond smiled, shaking his head fondly at you, before giving you a swift kiss to your forehead.

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canonicallyobserving911 · 3 months

Text

Buck & Eddie: Season 7 Ravi's back for a reason

The video includes some of the important things Ravi said and some of his interactions with Buck and Eddie from seasons 5 and 6. Please note: the sound has been removed from the last few seconds of the video because it includes music and if I would have left it in, Tumblr would have given me issues with adding it to the tags. I left it in so everyone could see Buck lay his head on Eddie's shoulder after he picked Ravi up 🙃🤪😉😜.

Last season I believed Ravi returned at a specific time for a specific reason and when he did, I completed a post about how Buck's NO LONGER the KID of the 118 because Ravi is the kid now (linked here). Reminder, Bobby hasn't called Buck kid since Buck's coma dream.

Yesterday, a BTS from Season 7 was posted that includes Eddie, Ravi and Buck and it was intriguing. The look on Ravi's face makes it seem like it's his first time seeing something and Buck looks like "F" not again" and Eddie looks like "Ok... that's interesting but we can handle it" but neither Buck nor Eddie look shocked at all. There's not enough included in the picture to go on but their facial expressions say a lot.

Today, another BTS was released that included the same three 118 members, Eddie, Buck and Ravi. Please look at the GIF below and notice the doors they exited from. Eddie got out of the captain's seat but please remember in 6x1, he said he appreciated it if Bobby didn't ask him to be interim captain. Has Eddie ever sat there? IIRC he hasn't, unless I missed it.

After I saw the video, I had several questions.

First, why wasn't Buck sitting in the captain's seat? He always sits there whenever he has the chance. But for some reason, this time he won't be.

Also, where is Hen and Chimney? It's possible they could be in the ambulance (if medical is needed) but if Bobby hasn't returned to work then that really doesn't explain why Hen's not sitting there instead of Eddie.

Where is the rest of the 118?

Are they the only three who will be needed for the call?

Ravi and Buck got out of the back but since Buck got out first, it's possible they were sitting where they sat in 5x18 and 6x16.

In 5x18, Ravi made the infamous "Isn't that what we all want in a partner..." declaration when Buck was still with TK but he knew (the audience knew too) that she wasn't who Ravi was referring to with regards to Buck. (Pssst... he was talking about EDDIE! 🤪😜🥰)

Later in the same episode, Buck defined what love means to him while him and Maddie were sitting on his balcony (related post linked here). Reminder, he said it AFTER Ravi asked the team, what they all wanted in a partner.

Enter season 6 and Ravi was absent and couldn't be found with a pair of binoculars because KR (the former showrunner???👀 hopefully she's no longer co-showrunner since TM the OG is back) wouldn't tell the audience where he was but she sure had time to film a FaceTime or whatever the "F" LD ended up talking to Bobby on in 6x1 regarding why she couldn't be interim captain.

I said this in a post earlier this week (linked here) that KR was telling half-truths and these BTS pics of Buck, Eddie and Ravi are kind of proving my point. In season 6 she didn't let Ravi come back until 6B because she was doing something with the characters. I answered an ask from my friend @mattsire a few weeks ago after one of the promos was released (linked here) and I said now that Buck and Eddie will be partners again, I wasn't sure what was going to happen in Season 7 (I'm still not sure and that's why I'm not speculating because I don't want to get blindsided again like I was with 6x18) but seeing Ravi again reminded me of my original theory. He's back for REASONS that have to do with Buck and Eddie.

Reminder, for the majority of Season 6, Eddie and Buck weren't working as partners. Buck mainly responded to calls with the team and Eddie spent most of his time being a medic. They were only partnered together for one call in 6x7 and it was the last Felisa emergency where she got buried in her car. Even though they were partners again in 6x13 for every call, it was strange since KR said they were trying new pairings for the season (I debunked her BS statement in a post I did earlier this week [linked here]. I believe the show was trying to see if the audience would notice and be vocal about Buck and Eddie not working or hanging out together and we were.) But reminder, they weren't working together while Ravi wasn't there. Even after he returned in 6x14, Ravi went into the dumpster fire with Eddie in 6x16 and Buck was kind of still working on his own.

In the latest TCA interview, TM said Ravi will return in Season 7 and since he's the OG showrunner and Buddie's his idea, I believe he has a reason for bringing Ravi back unlike KR who did it to appease the negative feedback she got for splitting Buck and Eddie up in the first place. Then she only included him in the finale so he could hand Buck some tools🙄.

In 6x14, Eddie hugged Ravi first but Buck literally hugged him and picked him up.

Also, later in the same scene, Buck laid his head on Eddie's shoulder.

The point of this post is to illustrate how Ravi returning could mean the original plan for season 6 is back in play. Therefore if the narrative that was set forth continues and it remains unchanged, everything that happened in 6x13 between Buck and Eddie and the Buckley-Diaz Family along with Eddie leaning more towards the medic or paramedic side of things and Buck remaining a firefighter then it's possible Ravi's back at the 118 so he can work with Buck. If so then maybe he's there so Buck and Eddie can continue working at the same firehouse after they become a CANON couple.

Please note, I believe Buck and Eddie were supposed to go CANON in season 5 but it got delayed and with everything that happened in season 6, it seemed like they were going to be in a relationship by the end of 6x18 but it got delayed once again. Will it be delayed in season 7 too? I don't know but I'm working on two posts about some things that were said during the TCA interview and I'm debating if I'll post them because I said I wasn't going to speculate but I'll make my decision after I finish the posts and decide then if I'll post them.

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #ravi panikkar #911 season 7 speculation #911 season 7 #911 season 6 speculation #911 on abc #911 abc #911 meta #911 spoilers #911 speculation #anti taylor kelly #anti marisol #anti natalia dollenmeyer #the buckley diaz family #buckley diaz family #christopher diaz #anti lucy donato

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pastryland · 9 months

Text

lestappen completed fic recommendations

If any of the authors of the fics mentioned here or are tagged and don't want their fics to be here, please let me know and I'll remove it!

Will update this list periodically

❤️ = favorite

⭐️ = I love fics by this author in general

❌ = triggering themes

🔥 = explicit

Devils roll their dice (Angels roll their eyes) - 55k - 🔥

It all started with a crash. Well, technically, it started with a blue-eyed boy with blonde hair getting screamed at in a language he couldn’t understand when he was only 12 years old. He remembered looking at the boy, who couldn’t be much older than himself - (two weeks older, to be exact, he’d learn later) - and watching the spark disappear right out of those icy blue eyes. That was the first memory Charles Leclerc had of Max Verstappen: Watching Jos Verstappen, Max’s own father, scream at this 12 year old child with an intensity that turned his face red and made every blood vessel in his neck look dangerously close to bursting. But if anyone ever were to ask Charles when he started to realize that his feelings towards that same Max Verstappen he had known since childhood had begun to change into something else, something bigger, something terrifying he couldn’t - or wouldn’t - quite put his finger on, he would say that it all started with a crash.Because of fucking course it did.--- OR: The slow-burn story of Lestappen that has brought me back from the dead, which starts with Max's crash at Silverstone in 2021.

salad days - 48k - ❤️ 🔥

“You think you are so much better –“ “I know I am,” Max cut him off again. “But that doesn’t mean that I can’t be beat.” “You want me to beat you?” “I want you to fucking try,” Max said, and over the phone, Charles could hear his cocky little grin. Charles found himself grinning back.

half of a heaven - 39k - ❌ 🔥

“Good evening. I’m Charles,” he offers his hand, which Max takes and for a second, Charles thinks he’s going to kiss the back of it. Some muscle spasms in the tight grip, rough velvet against soft skin. When Charles gets his hand back, it feels like he lost a finger or two in the fight. “What’s your poison, Charles?” Max asks, settling on the barstool like it’s not designed to be the most uncomfortable chair in the world. “Cyanide, usually. I’ll settle for a gin tonic for now.” or, Charles is a supermodel that has learned everything he needs to make his world turn. Now, he has no idea what Max Verstappen wants from him.

glitch - 26k - ❤️ ⭐️

Max hums. “Well, at least that means I won’t bump into Charles Leclerc again.” “Bummer, really,” Daniel says, moving back to his own seat and drinking the little bit of coffee that was still in the cup. “Could’ve been the start of a great love story.” Lando snorts. “Kids, it all started when I told your father, who had won two World Driver Championships at that point, that he sucked at driving.” Max sticks his middle finger up at them, and pulls his noise canceling headphones back over his ears. Only two hours left to go, he thinks, wistfully, and goes back to work.

all's well that ends well (to end up with you) - 21k - 🔥

"I was going to propose to him, and now I think he's going to leave me, so yeah, please… tell me how this could possibly get any fucking worse?" Lando gulps. "I uh... might have... misplaced the ring." *** In which it's summer break, and Max has an engagement ring with a gem the color of the Monaco sea locked in a safe in his closet. He wants to propose to Charles, and he enlists Lando, Oscar, Pierre, and a few other drivers to help make the proposal everything Charles deserves. But nothing in Max's life can ever be simple, and as Mission Lestappen Proposal™ unfolds, Max knows Charles is keeping something important from him. Max can survive Lando losing the ring. But he knows he can't survive losing Charles.

Rules of Engagement - 7k - ❤️ ⭐️

“Take me with you then!” Max felt his eyes go wide, his jaw literally dropping at the suggestion. “Tell them I’m like. Say I’m your fiancé, mate.” The heat had melted Charles’s brain, Max decided, staring at him blankly. “No.” He deadpanned. “Mate it’s genius! You won’t have to do anything, just stand there. Let me handle it. Them. The women.”

mr predestined and the flying dutchman - 80k - 🔥

Max Verstappen, an infamous child actor fresh out of rehab, and Hollywood's rising darling, Charles Leclerc, share nothing in common. Therefore, it's a field day for the public when the two are spotted out on a series of dates, days after they have been confirmed to star in blockbusters coming out the same day. It seems surprising that pretty boy Charles would dirty his hands with the complex intensity of Max, after the traumatizing scandal which led to Max being in rehab in the first place – but the press eats up their laughs like honey, and comment on their every single move. Perhaps this is where the ball drops – because Charles and Max are not as in love as they're portrayed to be. In fact, they're not even dating. Red Bull Records has already lost two of their celebrities to the whirlwind that was the infamy of 2019, and Ferrari Entertainment is dying to claim the next big star. What could go wrong in working together to kill two birds with one stone?

Second Time's the Charm - 7k - ⭐️

“Remember when you said you’d set me up with someone? A few months ago, at George’s wedding?” Charles’s voice is still pinched, as if his throat is trying to suffocate him and put him out of his misery. “Maybe you could do that? If the offer is still standing.” Simultaneously: “How did you know you liked guys?” Max’s tone is flat, as it usually is when he tries to come off as entirely disinterested, but Lando knows his tricks. He shoots upright, looking down at Max with wide eyes before exclaiming, arguably, one of the worst possible responses: “Oh my god, Max, are you fucking gay?” Or: Charles and Max don't know how to date; Alex and Lando try their best to make it happen.

#fic rec #fic rec list #charles leclerc #max verstappen #lestappen

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hermesmyplatonicbeloved · 5 months

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In HoO and beyond, the greek gods may be under the delusion that Percy likes going on quests.

Yes yes, i know the premise of cotg was Rick's shitty shitty writing but let's temporarily put that aside for a moment and look at a possible in-universe explanation.

Let me explain. From the reader's POV, it's clear that Percy is tired of going on quests. He's said it to us and to Annabeth, and it's obvious from what he went through in HoO.

But from the gods' POV its not clear at all.

I mean, if you think about it aside from the first quest, Percy chose to go on all 4 prophecies/quests in PJO. In SoM, Percy snuck out to go blatantly defying Mr.D & Tantulus. In TTV Percy also snuck out to go. In BOTL, Percy agreed to go when Annabeth asked - he was given the option. In TTC Percy chose the great prophecy that dictated what happened in TLO.

The gods know all of this bc either Mr.D was there, one of them was there or Percy or Grover or Tyson told them. None of them were there when Percy declared at the end of TLO that he was done with quests. How could they have known that Percy didn't want to be in a second war/go on more important quests?

In HoO Hera mentions somewhere that she kidnapped Percy like 6 months early or something so that he wouldn't go on Jason's quest - which supports this theory: Hera thinks that Percy wants to go on more quests.

It's also incredibly unclear if all the gods know the suffering Percy went through in Tartarus. We know that Mr.D and Athena (probably) know he fell in. But what happened - seeing Tartarus, Nyx, Akhlys? Probably not, unless Percy or Annabeth told them.

Now consider this: You're Zeus. You have a problem: the most powerful demigod to have lived ever looked like he was going to attack you at the end of the last war. You still haven't fully recovered from that last war, or the first one against Typhon. Now this demigod:

(somehow survived Tartarus -> if we're assuming Zeus actually knows about this),

has the alliance and loyalty of both demigod camps,

over half your parthenon is incredibly fond of him -> including many of your children

your brother (who's more or less your equal in strength) is next level protective of him, openly calls the demigod his fav son *ever*, has put himself on the line to vouch for him, was willing to let his entire kingdom be destroyed on the request of his son and will definitely not let you kill him (without waging war as revenge)

the demigod Is probably one step away from actually being a god (due to the CoA your wife didn't entirely remove) and already regularly not only fights but wins against immortals, gods and titans.

this demigod is a terrifying battle strategist - he's the one that came up with the plan to successfully defeat your greatest enemy: Typhon in the matter of minutes.

You're in a very tough spot. You're capable of killing him, but then your brother would wage war and destroy the world. Your only good option is to appease the demigod, and hope he doesn't pull a Luke Castellan 2.0 and start yet another war. How do you appease him? You've already more or less fulfilled his request for the gods from tlo (Hera is working on Calypso so you consider that done). You look at the limited facts you know about him and realize that this demigod loves quests. He snuck onto 2 of them, and chose to do another 2.

So to appease him, you assign him 3 more quests to keep him happy.

#pjo #percy jackson #hoo #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #rick riordan #annabeth chase #percy #poseidon #zeus #cotg #pjo series #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom

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grxcisxhy-wp · 2 years

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𝖼.𝗁. | 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌

back to masterlist

pairing ; c.h. x reader

requested ; yes

summary ; you stumble across a video of calum's fingers that has you all hot and bothered.

warnings ! SMUT, masturbating, fingering, riding, praising, finger sucking, titty sucking (?), unprotected sex, p in v, slight cockwarming at the end

word count ; 1.1k

a/n ; i think i have this weird thing for riding, but whatever. anyway, sorry it's been awhile i was just unmotivated, but weirdly listening to 1D got me to finish this work. also, thank you guys so much for 100 followers! hope you enjoy!

You had the day off from work, so you spent your time cleaning the home you shared with Calum and Duke. You had finished cleaning about half an hour ago, deciding to spend some time scrolling through social media on the living room couch.

Scrolling through your feed on Twitter looking at posts you were tagged in, posts Calum was tagged in, posts the band was tagged in, etc., you landed on a short compilation of Calum at different concerts, but the motion of his hand stayed the same.

Your eyes couldn’t help but focus on the movement of his fingers – them being the whole reason the compilation was made. Their movement was enticing and all too familiar – flashes of Calum’s fingers moving like that inside you playing in your mind. You just had to watch the video again… and again and again.

The need for Calum grew quickly from there, wishing he could hurry home from the studio faster, but you knew how important his music was to him. So, you decided to do the next best thing.

You laid back on the couch, spreading your thighs enough to slip your hand between them. You teased yourself over the fabric of your underwear – the only thing you were wearing other than a shirt of Calum’s. You tried to mimic the way Calum’s hands would tease you if he were there, but your fingers could never reach the right places like his would.

Still, you managed to work yourself up enough to have soft moans and whimpers falling from your lips. You had removed your underwear, rubbing shameless circles on your clit with one hand while the other moved at a steady pace in and out of your cunt. Lost in the feelings of your own fingers and imagining they were Calum’s, you hadn’t heard the door open and close.

Calum slid his shoes and jacket off after closing the door. He crouched down to the floor to meet Duke, smiling at the dog’s excitement in seeing him. When he stood up, he was about to call your name when he heard something that made him stop in his tracks.

He followed the noises that led him to the living room where he took in the sight of you spread out on the couch. He watched almost hypnotized as your fingers moved to please yourself. It was obvious to him that you were trying to replicate the way he did it.

When he snapped out of his stupor, he slowly made his way over to you as quiet as possible as to not disturb your concentration. He knelt down in front of the couch, leaving him almost eye level with your sopping cunt. He held back a groan as his fingers slowly moved to replace yours.

Your eyes shot open at the pleasant surprise of his touch. Your eyes found his already looking at you, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment as he began to rub circles just as you had been doing.

“Don’t be embarrassed, love,” he said, a small smirk adorning his lips. “Mind telling me what got you like this in the first place?”

“Saw a video,” you said simply, beginning to lose yourself in the feel of his hands.

Calum’s thumb kept at its motions on your clit while his ring and middle finger slid through your folds, spreading your arousal around. “About?”

“Your fingers. Liked the way they moved.”

At your admission, Calum slid his fingers into your entrance. He began moving his fingers in the exact motion of what had been in the compilation. “Like this.”

“Yes,” you gasped. “Just like that.”

Just as you felt the coil in your stomach begin to form, Calum removed his fingers from you. You watched with confused eyes as he stood up. His hands moved to his pants, unbuttoning them and pulling them down along with his boxers. His cock slapped against his stomach, and you moaned.

“Come here, pretty girl.” Calum held his hand out for you. You put your hand in his and he pulled you to stand up. He replaced your previous spot on the couch, patting his lap. “You want to sit on my cock?”

You nodded, quickly clambering over his lap. You used your hand to guide his dick through your folds before slipping it into your wet hole.

“Good girl,” Calum groaned. “Taking my dick so well.”

You moaned as you sank all the way down onto his length. His hands grasped your waist, helping you rise up only to slam you back down.

“So good,” you moaned.

“Yeah?” he said. “You just love riding my cock, don’t you?”

“Mhm. Love it,” you gasped. “Want it all the time.”

“That’s my girl.” He smirked, one of his hands abandoning its place on your waist to trail up to your breasts.

He palmed at one while he leaned forward to take the other in his mouth. He swirled his tongue around the nipple before sucking it into his mouth, making you clench around him. He groaned and repeated the action, rewarding him with the same reaction, adding to both your pleasure.

You reached for the hand that was on your breast, bringing it up to your mouth. Calum had momentarily stopped his attack on your breast to watch as you guided his pointer and middle finger into your mouth. He was mesmerized as you swirled your tongue around the digits like you’d done to his cock countless times before.

He groaned and pushed his fingers deeper into your mouth. “God, you’re so fucking hot. Sucking on my fingers like it’s my cock. You like my fingers that much, sweetheart?”

You moaned around his fingers, nodding eagerly as you clenched on his cock.

“You gonna cum?” he asked.

You nodded, trying to ride him faster, but your legs had grown tired.

“D’you need help?”

“Please,” you said, words muffled by his fingers.

“Okay, love. You just keep sucking those fingers, okay?”

“Okay.”

Calum grinned and kissed your chin, not bothered by the drool dripping down it from sucking on his fingers. He wrapped his unoccupied arm around your waist, holding you up as he thrusted into you quickly. You whined around his fingers, walls clenching his cock as he hit deeper than before.

“That’s it, love. Let go. Let it all go.”

You practically cried out around his fingers as you came, his thrusts continuing through your climax. He groaned as he followed right behind, hot ropes of cum painting your walls.

He removed his fingers from your mouth as you came down from your high. He kissed you for the first time on the lips since he came home. It was lazy and messy, but neither of you cared.

“I love you,” you whispered as he pulled away.

He kissed your forehead. “I love you, too. Now, let’s get you cleaned up.”

“Can we stay?” you asked. “Just for a little bit.”

“Of course,” he said, wrapping his arms around you. “We’ll stay for however long you want.”

#grxcisxhy's writing #calum hood imagine #calum hood #calum hood smut #5sos x reader #5 seconds of summer #5sos #calum imagine #calum hood oneshot #luke hemmings #michael clifford #ashton irwin #calum hood x you #calum hood x y/n #calum hood x reader #smut

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meiliarotten · 10 months

Text

Team Fortress 2 Kinktober Time Two: Electric Boogaloo

Day 7: Mechanical Intervention (Overstimulation)

🔞MINORS DNI🔞

Pairings: Engineer x Fem!Reader

Summary: Engie keeps going to bed late in the night and decided to make sure you don’t feel neglected.

Tags: Overstimulation, inappropriate use of the Gunslinger, vibrators

Word Count: 2.7k

The Masterlist

The oversized shirt you wore to bed was far more important to you than most would think. Having once belonged to Dell, you had ‘borrowed’ it from his half of the dresser one night when you happened to forget to do your laundry. Now it was an item of comfort for you. It made you feel like he was here with you, even though the two of you had been apart for so long.

You rolled your eyes, realizing for a moment how melodramatic you were being. It wasn’t like Engie had gone off to war. In fact, he was literally under the same roof as you, just a few rooms away in his workshop. However he had been holed up in there for so many nights now, working tirelessly on his sentries and dispensers, writing calculation after calculation, all of which you had no hope of understanding. To put it frankly, you missed him.

With a sigh, you opened the door of your shared room, glancing down the hall towards the workshop. You could see the light shining from under the crack in the door, indicating that he was still hard at work. You began to walk towards that light, unsure of what your goal was exactly. It wasn’t likely, but maybe you could convince him to turn in early for once. At the very least, it would be nice to pay him a visit.

You opened the door to the workshop slowly, finding Engie sitting in a chair, hunched over some blueprints with a half disassembled sentry at his side. It was a position you had found him in many times before. It was a wonder how his back wasn’t in constant pain. You walked up behind him, not realizing how quiet you had been until you wrapped your arms around Engie’s shoulders, only for him to jump before realizing that it was just you.

“Good lord, darlin,’ don’t sneak up on me like that!” he said, holding a hand to his chest. Engie was always weary about being approached from behind, especially with how often he was the victim of spies on the battlefield. That fact had apparently slipped your mind.

“Sorry,” you sighed, nestling your face against his shoulder. “I didn't mean to startle you.”

“What’s wrong?” Engie asked, noticing the twinge of sadness in your voice. “Aren’t you usually in bed by now?”

You held onto him tighter, biting your lip. Eventually, you decided not to hesitate and simply come out with it. “Come back to bed.” You could tell by the sigh you got in response that you weren’t going to get the answer you were hoping for.

“I’m sorry darlin.’ You know I have to get my work done first.”

You walked around to face Engie, giving the best damn puppy dog eyes you could muster. You weren’t too proud to beg. “Please, Dell?”

His eyes lit up at the use of his real name, softening as he reached out and pulled you close. “Oh honey, I’ve been neglecting you, haven’t I?” he asked. You nodded, letting yourself be pulled into Engie’s lap. “You sweet thing.”

He leaned in to kiss you. You eagerly reciprocated, desperate for the sensation of his lips against yours. It was more than the two of you had shared in at least a week, and you were practically starved for it. You tugged incessantly at his shirt, a silent plea for more. When you parted for breath you pressed your face into his shoulder again, muffling a needy whine.

“Now, I might not be able to come back to bed just yet, but I know the perfect way to make it up to you,” Engie said, pulling at the waistband of your pajama bottoms. You quickly stood and removed them yourself, leaving you in nothing but your underwear and a loose fitting shirt. Before you could take off anything else you were pulled back into Engie’s lap. “You look cute like that, you know?” he said. “In nothing but my shirt and your panties, just lovely.”

You blushed, but gave him a confused look. “Well, the shirt can stay, but doesn’t the underwear kinda have to come off eventually?”

“Not necessarily,” Engie said with a hint of mischievousness in his voice. His gloved hand ran up your thigh, and you let out a soft sigh. His other hand rested on the small of your back, keeping you steady and secure on his lap. Your body was already beginning to heat up as he reached your hip, caressing you gently and making you whimper. Usually such a small gesture wouldn’t get a reaction out of you, but it had been so long.

It felt like an eternity before he finally moved to run his fingers over your clothed slit. “Oh fuck,” you murmured as the fabric slowly began to dampen. You leaned your head on Engie’s shoulder, eyes rolling.

“That’s it, just relax and enjoy yourself,” Engie whispered into your ear, placing soft kisses on your jawline and trailing down to your neck. You moaned softly, unable to resist the urge to roll your hips as his fingers found your clit. How were you already so close? You must have been really pent up. “Are you close already, sweetheart?” Engie asked, seeing how you were squirming in his lap.

“I think so,” you stammered, gripping Engie’s shirt as you tried to hold back. “Fuck, it just feels so good.”

“You poor, sweet thing,” he crooned. “Laying all by your lonesome for so long. I’ll bet you haven’t even touched yourself in the past week.”

He wasn’t wrong. Most of the time you just went to sleep, hoping you would get some attention the next day. It wasn’t that you didn’t have the desire or the means to get yourself off, you just wanted to let your need build. You knew that the more it built the more rewarding it would be when Engie finally made time for you, and in a way, you were now getting exactly what you had been craving.

“How about you just go on and come for me?” he said, smirking as he circled your clit with his fingers. “I know you want to, and I wanna see it. I don’t want you to hold back.”

The idea that Engie was eager to see you come coupled with the pressure of his fingers was enough to push you over the edge. You called out his name in broken syllables, gripping onto him tightly as you rode out your orgasm.

“Ah ah, keep those pretty eyes open,” he said. You hadn't even realized you had been squeezing your eyes shut until he pointed it out. “I want you to look at me, honey.” You groaned, opening your eyes with some struggle. The look of admiration on Engie’s face immediately made the effort worth it.

You were breathless, panting as he held you in his arms. Your face was flushed down to your neck and the fabric of your underwear was slick with your release. You looked like a proper wreck, yet you couldn’t be happier, especially since Engie hadn’t stopped showering you with kisses since you came down from your high.

“So pretty,” he sighed. “I want to see more. You can come again for me, right sweetheart?”

Oh, you liked the sound of that. You gave him a nod and a breathless, “I think so.” You lifted your head from his shoulder, pressing your lips to his in a surprisingly chaste kiss. “Just be gentle. I’m still sensitive.”

“Of course. Here, let’s get these out of the way.” He pulled your underwear down your legs, letting them drop to the floor. You spread your legs wider, watching as Engie removed his glove, revealing his prosthetic hand.

The Gunslinger had always fascinated you. In fact your inquiries about that marvel of craftsmanship was what had initially drawn you and Engie together. The metal glinted in the yellow glow of the workshop’s lights, highlighting every miniscule detail.

When those mechanical fingers ran over your thigh, you were pleasantly surprised to find that they weren’t cold at all. You had no idea how, but despite being made of metal, the Gunslinger always seemed to match an average human’s body temperature. Sometimes it could even be a bit warmer, which was quite comforting if you wanted some extra heat on an especially cold night. You whimpered as his fingers dipped between your thighs, slowly pressing into you.

Engie watched your face, checking for any sign that you were uncomfortable, that it was too much. When he saw none he continued, sliding his fingers into you to the last knuckle. That earned some louder sounds from you, especially when he began thrusting his digits in and out. You were lucky that no one but Engie came to this part of the base during this time of night. Anyone who overheard you would have immediately known exactly what was going on within the workshop.

“I love those noises of yours. I wonder how loud you can get?” he mused, watching your expression melt into one of ecstasy. Then those fingers curled inside you, striking that sensitive bundle of nerves that was guaranteed to have you moaning. And you most certainly did moan, bucking against his fingers with a harsh cry. However your sounds only reached their peak when Engie paired the curling of his fingers with the stroking of his thumb over your clit.

Your thighs shook as you came again, arching back as your fingers dug into Engie’s leg. You would have fallen to the floor if it wasn’t for his free arm being wrapped firmly around you, keeping you seated safely on his lap. “God damn, that was intense,” Engie chuckled. “I must be doing a good job!”

“Don’t tease me,” you gasped, still trying to catch your breath as your orgasm subsided.

“I would never, darlin.’ But I can’t deny that you're boosting my ego a bit, and I appreciate that.” He waited for you to come down fully, your breathing evening out and your trembling beginning to subside before he continued. “Now, there was one more thing I wanted to show you, if you’re up for it. You see that button at the base of the Gunslinger?” You nodded, following his gaze and immediately spotting the red button where metal met flesh. You were pretty sure it had always been there. It never even occurred to you to ask what its purpose was. “How about you go ahead and press it,” he suggested.

That was all the temptation you needed. Nervously, you reached out and pressed the button, only to let out a startled gasp when the metal appendage started vibrating. “Holy shit,” was all you managed to say in response, making Engie laugh.

“Yeah, that was about the reaction I expected,” he said. “I’ve been working on this in my free time. It was originally gonna be a Valentine's Day gift, but I just couldn’t wait to show it off.”

You were both impressed and baffled. “Are you telling me this is what you’ve been doing in this workshop these past several nights?”

“Not entirely,” Engie said. “Like I said, it was just a pet project.”

You sighed, knowing that you were still recovering from your second orgasm. A third would be a difficult feat, but you couldn’t deny your own curiosity. Where else would you find a man who would literally program his own hand for your pleasure? Plus, you liked the idea of a challenge. “Well, how about we take this little innovation for a test drive?” you asked, giving Engie a seductive look.

He mirrored your expression. “I was hoping you would say that, sweetheart.”

Engie took everything much slower this time, only circling around your clit. Any direct stimulation would surely overwhelm you, and he didn’t want that, at least not yet. Still, you immediately started trembling, not at all prepared for the intensity of the vibrations. That’s not to say it didn’t feel quite nice though. You bit your lip, stifling any moans that tried to escape.

“Don’t start holding back on me now, honey,” Engie said the moment he noticed you were trying to keep quiet. “I wanna hear all those pretty sounds you make.” He began kissing your neck, rubbing firmer circles until your muffled whimpers turned into full on moans once again.

His fingers slipped into you, offering a whole new range of intensity as they curled and thrust against your most sensitive spots. You rocked shamelessly against his palm, forcing his fingers deeper. It was exhausting yet so immensely pleasurable. You bucked and he worked his fingers, both of you ever so gradually working towards a third orgasm.

When you finally did come it happened rather suddenly, starting as a small building of pleasure that quickly escalated until your thighs were quivering and your back was arching. The sound you made when you climaxed was more akin to a sob than a moan.

“Good girl. There’s even more where that came from,” Engie said, not even pulling his fingers out. The implication was clear.

“Dell, I don’t know if I can,” you whimpered.

“Just one more time for me, darlin’,” Engie said between soft kisses to your forehead and cheeks. “I know you can do it.” His words and his touch were paradoxically comforting and overwhelming. Still, you were effectively tempted to try, signaling your willingness with a shaky nod. Even so, you couldn’t stifle your rather harsh reaction to the feeling of the vibrations becoming stronger.

“Dell! Oh fuck!” Your body sizzled, every sensation feeling like electricity on your skin. If your mind had been clearer you would have been astounded at the effort it must have taken to add not only a vibration function to the Gunslinger, but also multiple settings for said vibrations. However your mind was anything but clear. Engie may have been speaking to you, perhaps crooning words of praise, talking about how much he enjoyed your sensitive body, or how helplessly adorable you looked when you squirmed in his lap. Whatever it was, it all faded into the background as your other senses began to take over.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as the pleasure became overwhelming, almost unbearable. It was a constant barrage of touches, moans, and trembling bodies. There was barely any buildup to the fourth and final orgasm, only an unwavering sensation and a sudden, shaking, screaming climax that seemed to hit you out of nowhere, leaving your body as an over sensitive wreck, squirming and reaching for anything to ground yourself.

That thing you were reaching for ended up being Engie himself. You clutched onto him for dear life even long after the aftershocks had faded, still shaking, face red and hot from a few tears that managed to escape. “I’ve got you, darlin,’” Engie whispered, keeping you steady even as your body trembled beneath his touch. The last thing he wanted was you falling off his lap. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

Slowly, your body stopped shivering and your death grip on Engie’s shoulders finally loosened, leaving you to go limp in his arms. Your tears dried and your heart rate dropped, the rush of adrenaline fading until all you were left with was blissful relaxation.

“I’m guessing that you’re more than satisfied now, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Engie asked, allowing himself a smug look once he was sure you had recovered enough. “Did I manage to make up for all the nights that I missed?”

You let out a weak laugh. “God, you definitely did. I just hope you don't expect me to go back to bed. There’s no way I’m going to be able to walk back to our room after that.”

Engie chuckled, and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him. “Of course not, honey. Just relax here.” His hand rubbed up and down your back, a soothing and welcome sensation to your still quite sensitive body. “Just close your eyes. If you fall asleep, I’ll carry you back to bed, alright?”

“And you’ll stay, right?” you asked, looking up at him hopefully. He gave you a soft smile, brushing your hair out of your face and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Of course darlin.’ I’ll stay.”

#tf2 x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #merc x reader #minors dni #smut #tf2 smut #team fortress 2 #cross posted on ao3 #tf2 #tf2 fanfiction #kinktober #engineer x reader #engie x reader #engineer tf2 #tf2 engie #engie tf2 #tf2 engineer

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mythicamagic · 3 months

Text

Sukuna's Roommate (a Sukuna x reader fic) Chapter Nine

The rent is cheap, that's the only reason you're moving into apartment 167 on such short notice. The rent is cheap, you remind yourself again, staring up at the four-armed monster you would be living with. (Female reader x Sukuna) Roommate AU.

Warnings: some dubcon moments and general Sukuna stuff i.e: murder.

This chapter features smut.

Chapter One: link Ao3 here: link

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AN: Sorry for the long wait, been busy at university. This is the usual self indulgent schlock, but I'm sorry if its more messily written than usual ^^

oh and I should probably mention beforehand that no matter what Sukuna and MC get up to, she won't get pregnant. I'm not interested in writing that despite some of things mentioned here possibly being misconstrued as symptoms.

@my-anime-garden (because you mentioned you wanted to be tagged)

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~ Chapter Nine ~

---------

It was difficult not to feel overwhelmed in Sukuna’s presence. His skin felt blisteringly hot to the touch, warmed by the lapping steam from the hot springs. That molten flesh was everywhere. On me, under me, in me.

Despite my best intentions, I was only human. I gave myself up to control in much the same way I always had- and loathed the reaction. If I were braver, daring, perhaps I could command his attention more firmly. Admittedly, Sukuna probably wasn't the man to test out any newfound desires of domination or control at that moment.

I felt my head be tugged back- a hand gripping my hair tight. Another mouth occupied my own after just a moment. I’d never been involved in a threesome or gang bang but I imagine this must feel somewhat similar. There was just so much of him at once. So many mouths sucking, licking, kissing and biting. So many hands grabbing, kneading, stroking.

Most overwhelming of all was the stomach mouth swallowing my lower-half almost completely. I felt like a sock-puppet. Every time the thick tongue buried inside my cunt would rove or undulate- my body would jolt and sway with it, held upright by a few greedy hands tugging my hips or breasts. I’d long become an incoherent mess and lost track of the orgasms- another rocking sharply through me, my toes curling in delight as it speared straight through my spine, sending me ramrod straight. I wailed into the mouth covering mine.

“Agh! Mmphfffmmnn…”

Sukuna chuckled from where he sat beneath me, occasionally just sitting back and watching me squirm. He removed the hand-mouth from my lips, my tongue still subconsciously reaching out for it.

“You’ve become a wreck. A nice sight. Bite-marks become you.”

Even in my dazed state, I knew to suck in as many breaths as possible, trying to recollect myself before he shoved another mouth somewhere. That thick tongue grew mercifully still inside my cunt and I couldn’t help but whimper, steadying myself on his chest.

“Was that a cry of loss? Want more already?” he teased.

“G-give me- a minute-“ I panted, touching my damp, bruised mouth. Saliva coated my chin. Fantastic. It took all my effort to refocus on the here and now. It felt important not to get swept away by my own pleasure for too long. The worry of making him bored lurked in the far corners of my blissed out mind.

Sukuna just grinned as he always did. Patronizing and entertained. He gave me a hearty pat on the ass.

“You're really giving this your best! Good job. Want a snack break?”

“…with you still…inside?” I asked weakly. He cut his eyes to the heavens and rolled his hips in answer.

“You’re lucky I’m this generous about prepping you.”

I almost asked what he was prepping me for- but luckily I hadn’t lost the full functionality of my brain yet, casting a furtive glance at the two dicks sitting snugly behind me.

Right.

I wasn't sure how he'd acquire 'snacks' without moving but he raised a clawed hand and waved it in the air.

"Uraume."

His white haired chef appeared in an instant, standing on the sidelines of the pool. "Yes, Master Sukuna?"

I choked, eyes flying wide. With a shriek, I tried to pull myself off Sukuna and hide- but he held me effortlessly in place.

"Bring something to snack on. Ah, and more sake- I've run low."

Uraume inclined their head, not even sparing me a glance before disappearing again.

I was quick to shove at Sukuna’s chest, snarling. "What the heck?! That was not okay!"

"Hm? You think providing snacks isn't acceptable? I guess I'll enjoy them all to myself. It's no skin off my back," Sukuna chuckled, the action sending rumbling vibrations from his chest straight down to where we were connected.

"Don't you have a shred of decency? I don't want anyone else to see me like- like this! Bad enough I'm naked, but you're still…" I blushed, covering my chest with one arm and trying to pull away again.

A hand clapped against my ass-cheek, shoving down. I cried out as our hips locked, burying his stomach tongue uncomfortably deep. My cunt practically screamed and purred all at once, clenching with a vice-grip around him. My toes curled, breath stalling.

"Ah-ah, so noisy," a deep voice sighed into my ear. "Don't forget your situation right now, woman. You think you're in a position to start yelling my ear off?"

There was no time to catch my breath before he was bouncing me anew on his stomach, that tongue roving and winding, curling and stretching as far as it pleased. The noises he ripped from me weren’t human. Combined with the mouths that appeared on his greedy hands to suck and bite at my breast, another lapping at my clit, I lost coherency again.

When another wave of pleasure crashed through my frazzled, exhausted systems- the slick organ was ripped away from inside me. There was a moment of pure, unadulterated loss, and the cry that bounced off his cavernous domain shirked like a grieving woman.

But then it was replaced with something hard. Sukuna grunted from below me. “Let’s see how you handle one.”

With one thrust- he was buried inside to the brim. My everything accepted him pathetically easily, dripping with need. I practically clung to him, sobbing with relief, cunt clamping down on him as if it wished to devour.

“Heh- eheh-ahahaha! Look at you! Don’t you have a shred of decency? I thought you cared about having an audience, but you haven’t even noticed, have you?”

It took a moment to grasp what he was saying over the slap of our bodies meeting, my mind growing fuzzy with every jolt it sent through my body. I felt boneless. My mouth was agape though I couldn't remember opening it. Sukuna’s long fingered hand curled around my chin then, turning it so that I looked to the left.

Sukuna’s chef had returned, balancing a tray of food and bottle of sake on one hand. If they had any interest in our rutting together like animals, they made no comment. I couldn’t bring myself to care, either. If anything, I grasped Sukuna’s shoulders and tried to weakly bounce on his lap, seeking my own pleasure again and again, building up, hitting that spot- and then falling off the precipice, only to start over due to Sukuna’s unrelenting thrusts.

They were muttering something, having a brief conversation while we fucked, or perhaps I fucked myself stupid on his lap. It would’ve been humiliating had I any shame left.

“Oi- open up.”

I parted my lips mindlessly, and Sukuna sat something on my tongue, only to close my mouth. I realised it was his food. Meat. Bloodied and raw. Rare steak wasn’t really to my tastes but when he commanded me to eat I did so immediately.

“Good girl,” I thought I heard him purr. He patted my cheek. “Come on, gn- more…”

I let him feed me, feeling my cheeks grow wet. Was I crying? Why was I crying? I couldn’t understand why. Something in my stomach churned, heaving, wanting to reject the food. It stung like the dull hiss of cigarette burns.

A hand clamped over my mouth then. Ruby red eyes glowered from beneath me within the haze of the hot-spring steam. There was a wickedness to them. A smile, and flash of sharp canines.

“Have your fill, greedy woman. I know you’re not full yet.”

---------

Everything ached.

There was a test in two days that I'd set time aside to study for- but the words continually blurred on the page. The hustle and bustle of the mall felt so far away as I gazed with glassy eyes at a music shop further below my vantage point. My mind kept wandering, focusing on the burn in my thighs and deep, yearning feeling of loss somewhere in my core. It was pathetic. Beyond that deep craving though, I kept sensing something…off.

I subtly put a hand to my stomach. I'd been hungry all day but the second I'd bought a meal- queasiness rolled in my gut. I eyed the sad burger and fries sitting on their tray. Reaching for them again, I grabbed a fry and forced it past my lips, chewing with effort. The usual delicious saltiness tasted like sand.

My phone blinked persistently, a text waiting to be answered. I knew it was Neil. Somehow he’d gotten ahold of my number. I flicked the screen mindlessly to ignore it, gazing listlessly down at the people wandering through the mall, chatting. Lovers walked arm in arm, and I observed them like they were an exhibit in an Aquarium. They were so far removed from anything I’d ever known or experienced. Soft, gentle and kindly laughing at one another.

“The maggots up to anything interesting?”

I started, swallowing with effort. My throat burned as I squinted up at Sukuna. How had he found me so easily in the city? “What?”

He smiled in that usual self-assured way, no hint of difference in him despite how depraved we’d acted just a few days ago. I hadn’t seen him since waking up sluggishly in my room, but my body was certainly still paying the price. The only reason he’d apparently stopped at ‘one’ was because he’d had a meeting to get to, otherwise I’d have taken ‘both’ in whatever hole he’d pleased. “You seemed lost in thought while watching the spread of insects infesting the mall today. Wondered if there was anything worth looking at. Any violence worth mentioning?”

“Wh- no! Nothing. And don’t talk about humans like that around me.”

“Hm? Why not?”

“Because in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m one!”

“Nah. You might’ve been once, but then you became my pet,” Sukuna helped himself to a seat opposite me, dwarfing the poor plastic with his mass and height. His jacket hung slightly loose, exposing a bare shoulder. I tried not to stare. “Now I suppose…you’re my woman.”

I scoffed, forcing myself to eat another fry. “What happened to being your pet?”

“I fuck women, not pets.”

It took all my willpower not to roll my eyes. For a man with such a vast number of textbooks, poetry and knowledge crammed right into his home- and likely his brain- he could come out with the stupidest lines sometimes.

The seat creaked as Sukuna leaned forward, resting a thick arm on the table before me. “So, are you going to share what you were staring at?”

“It’s none of your business.”

“So snappy,” Sukuna sighed, stealing one of my fries to gesture at me with it. “You’d have thought fucking you would shake that stick up your ass enough to loosen it some.”

“Charming,” I growled, staring hard at the open pages of my book. I was unable to read a single line with him grinning ferally across from me. I slammed it shut, casting an uneasy glance at my barely touched meal. No way was I confessing what was actually bothering me. “I was looking at the music shop.”

“Does my woman have musical talents? You should play something for me sometime, if you're confident you won't offend my ears, that is.”

I could’ve told him about my lengthy past with music and how it had once been the bane of my existence. It had become something much more complicated now that I no longer played for the whims of my family. Instead, I gave a shrug. “You kind of need an instrument to play music, buddy.”

“Ah, so that’s it.”

Sukuna abruptly stood, gesturing with a single ‘come hither’ pluck of his fingers. “Come take a walk," he said, throwing his half-eaten fry back onto the table and grumbling that it 'tasted like shit.'

“Wh- where are we going? Damn it.” I quickly stood and gathered my things, stuffing them into my bag and following when Sukuna casually walked off.

--------

The decision to follow him felt like a poor one when he approached the very shop I'd been gazing at.

"Sukuna!" I hissed, to no avail. He strolled right in, gazing at the trumpets, guitars, drums, cellos, violins and various other instruments displayed inside.

“Sukuna- you really don’t have to. Let’s get out of here," I touched his arm and spoke in a low voice, trying not to draw attention to us. Sukuna’s appearance didn't lend itself well to blending in though, all swagger and hard edges. As luck would have it, there was only an old man occupying the store behind the counter.

“Not without the instrument you need. Go fetch," he pointed into the shop boredly.

“I thought you said I wasn’t a pet anymore!”

He grinned darkly. “If you didn't bark at me like a mutt, I wouldn’t be so tempted to collar you and treat you as one.”

I growled, turning to the exit. “That’s it. I’m leaving-“

“How many years do you think the owner has left?”

That threw me off. I stopped and gave the old man a cursory glance.

“What? Uh…I don’t know? I guess 10 to 20 at a push?”

Sukuna nodded thoughtfully. “Hm. Would be a pity if those 20 were cut short to a few minutes, wouldn’t it?" His eyes glittered like the surface of his crimson pool as they slanted down to me. "That’s how long he’s got left unless you pick up the instrument you want and bring it to me like a good girl.”

I gaped, working my mouth for a moment when no words would come. "Y-you’re impossible!” I finally burst.

“Thank you, I pride myself on being beyond human explanation. 117 seconds left.”

“Ah! Wait- wait!” panicking, I hurried toward the violin section. Sukuna's low laughter carried me all the way there, and I hurriedly scanned the selection. I wouldn't put it past Sukuna to commit daylight murder and I wasn't about to let an old man's death be on my conscience.

I grabbed a violin at random and was about to hurry back- only to hit a solid wall. I squeaked, peeling my face away from where it had briefly been smothered in the depths of Sukuna’s chest. "W-what? You told me to hurry-?"

"Mn, but I didn't know you were into these," Sukuna plucked the violin from my hand, studying it with more care than I imagined he would. His hands smoothed over the dips and curves with a respect I hadn't thought him capable of. Careful and appreciative. "Aren't they a little awkward to just grab on the fly like that? They depend on various factors in order to be played effectively."

I paused and sized him up. For all his swagger and brutality, Sukuna sometimes spoke like this: considerate of the proper pursuit of study. Come to think of it, he’d always give me space when I needed to cram for a college test in my room.

"Yeah, the shape of my shoulders and neck are a factor. They’d decide if this one is a good fit for me."

"Try it out."

It was impossible not to stare. Had the conversation several seconds ago not taken place?

Sukuna ‘knocked’ on the side of my head with a rap of his knuckles. "Ohoho, are you ignoring me? Heh, that's a bold move."

"I thought you wanted me to hurry or you'd kill the owner!" Growling, I leaned away from him.

"You really do take things too seriously. Makes you fun to rile up," he chuckled. "I’d get no enjoyment out of squishing that insect, so old and senile."

The caprice of his moods could sway so violently it was hard not to be swept away in the whiplash. After being his roommate for a little while now though (and getting to the point that I was comfortable yelling at him for leaving the toilet seat up) it allowed me to recover and shrug it off. Sukuna was weird. If he wanted me to perform like a little song-bird for him, I wouldn’t complain.

It would be no different than the treatment I’d received from my parents anyway.

Settling the violin against me, I took a breath. Releasing it slowly, I glided the bow over the strings, frowning softly the longer I played.

It wasn’t long before I was setting the body down and making adjustments.

Sukuna hovered over my shoulder. He didn’t say anything but I could feel his eyes on my hands all the same as I tightened the strings and tried again. There was something a little off about it, so I picked up the next one and found the weight and feel much more natural.

"That one,” he said at last, with a low decisive tone. “We're taking that."

"You want to steal it?!" I squeaked, jumping to conclusions.

He shot me a patronizing look that I was quickly becoming accustomed to. I don’t know what that said about me. "Please, I'm not that cheap. Abusing power for petty thievery might satisfy some whelps for cheap thrills, but in reality it just comes across as tacky. Like you can’t pay for your own shit,” he lifted a bored shoulder, heading toward the counter.

Strange. I never would’ve expected him to have principles, especially after the way he acted- but this was Sukuna, and I suspected most decisions came down to spur-of-the-moment deals. He just didn’t feel like stealing today.

Nonetheless, I couldn’t compute what was happening as he actually strode up to the counter and spoke with the owner of the store. I busied myself with gently plucking at some harp strings, still feeling the residue of the fries sitting heavy in my stomach. What was wrong with me today?

"Take it."

Something smooth was shoved into my hands. I quickly grabbed onto the violin case as he let go- gawking at it. Unable to help myself, I clicked open the secures and looked inside at the brand new instrument sitting inside. Polished wood elegantly carved and shaped to perfection gleamed back at me.

“What-? You’re just going to give it to me?” I asked, looking up at him in askance. This wasn’t like him. Surely there was a catch or a longer game to play?

“Tch, well I didn’t buy it just to have it languish on the mantelpiece,” he drawled, stuffing both hands in his pockets and heading for the exit. “You can play it- so play it. Whenever I want. That’s the deal.”

“Can I play outside of the hours you’d like me to?”

“Do as you wish.”

My heart did a funny flip in my chest. I couldn’t believe it. Was Sukuna being…nice? Maybe getting laid was truly good for him. If it meant the caprice of his mood perked up like this, I could see myself trying that method again in the future.

---------

It took a little while of walking for Sukuna to glance back at me as we strolled out of the store and back into the mall. He tsked and grinned, eyeing me strangely. “Nobody’s going to take it from you, woman. Relax the death grip.”

Only then did I notice I’d been hugging the case to me possessively like a starved orphan. Blushing and dropping my arms hastily, I walked on like a professional violin player and most definitely not a weirdo with attachment issues.

He continued on with a mocking scoff, but I quickened my pace- hurrying to walk beside him for once. “Thank you,” I mumbled.

“Hah? Didn’t catch that. Say again louder.”

“Your age must be catching up with you then, I’m not repeating it.”

Sukuna chuckled, flashing sharp teeth in my direction. He then stopped, attention apparently caught by something across the mall.

I turned to look, but could only locate a gang of what looked like would-be thugs. Bunch of young guys with cheap tattoos and a swagger that suggested they were trying too hard. They left the mall, one spitting on the ground in parting.

"You know the way back from here, right? I'll meet you at our place. There's something I need to do."

"Right this second?" I pressed, puzzled.

Sukuna's grin was more unhinged this time, wide and broad. Clamping a hard palm atop my head, he caused it to sway with the force of his pets. "I got you a nice treat. That means you should be a good girl and obey. Go straight there," he bent down close to my ear, fanning hot breath against it. "I want you to warm my cocks later, understand?"

Like a lightning bolt striking true, I was suddenly ramrod straight. Heat speared tightly through my core. Fuck.

Red eyes glittered. Sukuna barked a laugh, the sound carrying even as he strolled away.

I waited a moment and sucked in a hard breath, slowly releasing it. After making sure my traitorous, pathetic legs wouldn’t betray me, I shakily followed him out of the mall, intending to go home.

The outside world was chillier than anticipated, and I tugged my coat more firmly around me, hugging the violin case close. Downtown was as busy as ever, and I hurried along, not wanting to be stopped by some of the zealous worshippers that had cropped up ever since the Shibuya Incident.

A laugh made me stop. Sharp and distinct. I knew that laugh. I'd heard it flit through my daydreams and nightmares enough to know it instinctively.

Turning, I found myself mindlessly following it down an alley, my steps slow and careful. The alley was small and shadowed, crammed between two shops.

A cacophony of voices and laughter reached my ears, closer now. I ducked behind a stack of crates and listened.

“We were gonna go back to the club if ya wanna join? Ya seem pretty chill,” one voice was saying.

“Yeah, come drink with us!” another joined in.

“There’s women there. Their holes might not be tight but their mouths make up for it if ya know what I mean!”

Booming laughter swallowed the alley then, and I realized without seeing them that these men must’ve been the tryhard gang I’d seen just a few moments before in the mall.

“Heeh? Sounds pretty good.”

It was hard not to shiver. Sukuna’s baritone had dipped into something lower than the voice he typically used around me.

From the soft inhale made, I recognised the sound of a drag being taken. “Come then, let’s go! I’ll set you up with Nanako!”

“Just one second.”

“Eh?”

“Where’s this little bar you want me to follow you to?” Sukuna uttered, sounding lazy and bored.

“Roppongi, obviously! It’s got the best bars in Tokyo!”

“Ahh I get it. I’ve been chatting to touts this entire time,” a distinct sigh doused the air.

That was when the screams started.

I stiffened, clamping a hand over my mouth as the noises bounced off the alley walls. Shouts from the men were drowned out but I could just barely hear them.

“What the FUCK man?!”

“What are you doing?! Arghhhhhhh!”

Sukuna’s carefree laugh cut through the wet, snapping sounds of flesh and bone tearing. I heard something thud to the ground. “You were all holding your heads a little too high for my tastes. You even thought you could lure me to one of those sleazy bars. The type of shithole where the drink is cheap but spiked so you can drain me of cash or try to get me hooked on something, right? Tsk, so boring. You’re a waste of air. Better off in my stomach than wriggling around in broad-daylight where I can see you, Maggots!”

I began to back up then, heart racing. Through the slats in the crates I’d taken refuge behind, I made out the image of Sukuna slanting his mouth over another man’s- ripping his arms off cleanly with a casual jolt. Sukuna swallowed his horrified cries, only to back away slightly and bite down on the punk’s extended tongue as he screamed.

He practically devoured his face. The other men still alive either watched on, helpless and frozen, or dragged their injured bodies away.

I swallowed thickly, almost choking on my own saliva- only to realize my mouth had become filled with it. My teeth ached. I suddenly had the urge to bite. To sink needy teeth down into…something. Something full and pulsing and alive.

My stomach rumbled.

Jolting, I quickly turned and ran- fleeing from the sounds of blood-curdling madness or my own chattering, hungry teeth, I couldn’t tell. A figure took shape at the end of the alley, and I blinked the tears from my eyes enough to glimpse Uraume on my way out, who watched me pass by with a satisfied curl of their lips.

#Sukuna #jjk #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna fanfic

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