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supercutszns · 5 months

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Luke x reader where a girl, daughter of Aphrodite, flirts with him and insults the reader, causing her to avoid Luke, but later he manages to find her and confesses that he actually likes them... I don't know if they should already be together or not, but I believe in you!!! you write very well :ooo

Sorry if the idea is bad or you wouldn't want to write something like that, if that's the case please pretend you never read this 🤡🤡🫶

true colours; luke castellan

wc + pairing: 3.6k, luke castellan x child of iris! reader

synopsis: everyone wants luke castellan, including you. curse your mother for getting your hopes up.

warnings: friends to lovers, reader is very insecure, bullying, lee fletcher & will solace cameo!! some angst with a fluffy ending

notes: thank you for the request!! as always this is longer than i anticipated but hope you like it :) i also combined it with another request for a child of iris reader (i also identify as a child of iris sometimes so i lovee writing for them) also i’m pretty sure lee + a lot of parts of this are ooc sorry but i havent read the books in about a year so hopefully everything’s fairly accurate!🌈

You knew this summer would be different because your mother sent her wishes twice as much. On the first day of July, when children flood into Camp Half-Blood like a hive of wild bees, a rainbow always lights up the sky.

This year, there were two.

As a child of Iris you’re technically supposed to be in the Hermes cabin. But your love for art, for music, for fun, has made you a particular favourite of the Apollo cabin. Most of your friends are there. They tolerate you singing in your soft, often unsure voice. They love when you catch sunlight and filter it into prisms of colour on their cabin walls.

You’d probably move in there permanently if it weren’t for Hermes. Or rather, his son.

Over the last few months, in the sticky summer heat, your mother knew you would fall in love.

It's not any surprise you love Luke. Everyone loves Luke. A fact that's becoming more obvious every passing day.

It used to bother you less. You’ve always been his meagre, hopeless friend, never any real competition to these girls. You’d basically taken yourself out of the running and instead decided to pine after him in the very back of your mind. A safe, deluded fantasy that would never happen.

Until recently, where it seems less like a fantasy and more like a terrifying possibility.

Over the past few weeks Luke has gone out of his way to be sweet to you. Or at least you think so. He’s spent extra time talking to you at lunch, laughing at your half-formed jokes almost in earnest. At bonfires he saves you a seat, grabs you a marshmallow on occasion. You even made him a friendship bracelet of sorts—admittedly a little ugly—but he’s never taken it off. Not since the day you gave it to him.

Not to mention helping you last week before the archery competition. His hands lingering over yours as he steadied your bow, the curls of his breath on the back of your neck when he stood behind you.

“Don’t be nervous,” he says, a tinge of mirth in his voice. “You just steady your aim and first is as good as yours.”

(You came in fifteenth.)

You don’t want to say that it’s him weakening your aim, making your pulse beat out of your neck. His nose brushes against the back of your jaw as he leans forward and you smell the pine on his skin. Is this friendly? Is he this close on purpose? Are you delusional?

It’s all you’ve been thinking about these past few days. So when Luke Castellan’s endless admirers come to the forefront of your mind, you feel like all those moments of potential buildup have been ripped away.

“You alright there, sunshine?”

He takes you out of your spiral with a teasing lilt you love. When you look at him, his face is a shimmering warmth, complete with boyish smile.

“Yep,” you reply, trying to ignore the nickname making your insides flutter even though you know he’s saying it ironically.

You’ve always had a gift for identifying colour. It’s the thing you pay attention to most. Something inherited from your mother, you suppose. So you’ve memorized the way Luke’s eyes melt in the sunlight. How his scar blends with his pinking cheeks when it’s hot outside. You never told him, and you probably never will, but you’ve painted him from memory quite a few times in the Apollo cabin—always with the excuse that you were practicing. It's so blatantly obvious you're in love with him there's no point in your friends bringing it up.

The two of you are meandering around camp before dinner, a tradition Luke started early on in the summer. You talk about high points of your day (mostly you) or share nuggets of gossip you’ve heard around camp (mostly him). It's the thing you looked forward to every morning. A time when his words are just for you.

Idle chatter flows as you keep walking. Sometimes your arm brushes his and you have the embarrassing urge to tug yours away. You do your best not to stare at him too long or laugh too loud at his jokes.

“Hey, Castellan!” Someone calls.

Luke’s head turns. Your heart plummets. A beautiful girl, Aphrodite cabin, you think, is heading towards you. She’s all honey-spun hair and dazzling pink lips, and it’s obvious she knows it. You don’t know her name. But Luke does.

They fall into conversation the second she arrives. It’s just greetings, pleasantries, but there’s a coy smile on the girl’s face that betrays any sense of disinterest. “Heard you’re not too keen on pairing up with us for the Chariot Race next week. What gives?” Her tone is pouty and playful as she taps Luke’s shoulder. She side-eyes you, lips curling imperceptibly. “I’m sure you’ll have a better chance with us.”

He lets out a strained chuckle. “Dunno, just thought it was fine to switch it up.”

Just like that, you’re out of the loop again. More of her friends flock after her, and soon Luke is tangled in a whole other world. They’re all glowing with a kind of righteousness you only get when you’re popular. You know Luke has friends, tons of them. He's the leader of the cabin with the most campers. Not to mention assertive and gorgeous. His presence is so inviting it’s a challenge not to fall in love with him.

So you can’t blame this girl, the one that keeps touching his arm and giggling. It’s not like you’ve staked your claim on Luke—no one even knows you exist. As much as you want him to be yours, you know you’ll never stop someone from taking him first. It’s your fatal flaw, you think. Cowardice.

You end up sidelined completely. Watching him swathed in people more charismatic than you plants an ache deep inside you. All your wishful thinking feels sour now, a pipe dream, a bedtime story to help you sleep better. Somehow it hurts more knowing that it’s nobody’s fault but yours. These people can’t be doing this on purpose. It’s just who they are. It’s who you are—always a step behind, always daydreaming. You are your mother’s daughter, after all. Just a prism reflecting everyone around you.

Eventually, one of the boys in the group takes notice of you. He’s not nearly as captivating as Luke is—you don’t find the colours of his eyes hold as much depth. There’s also a haughtiness when he looks at you. He sneers, “What the hell do you have on your face?”

It draws the attention of others in the group. You feel like a naked sculpture in an art gallery. “Uh, what?” You stammer.

Some of them purse their lips. The girl with Luke lets a laugh slip. You’re pretty sure you look like an idiot, waiting there with your brows wrinkled in a daze. Their gazes keep flicking over to your cheek, so your hand flies up there before you can delay any more. When you press your fingers to the side of your face, they come away tacky and pink. Mortification constricts you.

Paint. It’s leftover, half-dried paint. The colour of Luke’s cheeks in the sun.

“Oh,” you say dumbly. It’s drowned by snickers. All you can do is find Luke, the only face you know, and ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?” without sounding too hurt.

You know you failed when your voice comes out wrong and his ebony brows push together. “I thought it looked—”

He never gets to finish because the golden girl laughs a little louder, the pink tones in her face a little darker. “Oh my Gods, you’re that Iris kid that’s always singing, right?” She giggles sharply, cornflower eyes darting between her friends. There’s something in there you can’t quite pick up on, until it flushes the pupils of all her friends, and they all grin with a secret knowledge they want you to see. “You’re, like, really good!” The girl simpers, but her bottom lip pulls between her teeth to soften another laugh.

“Oh, so good!” Another friend piles on.

Their passive-aggressive chuckles start to sound like hail on a window. You shift further away from them. Dirt slides beneath your shoe, and you long to kick up more of it, displace yourself, disappear.

You don’t look at Luke. The giggly, flaxen girl has already turned back to him, and you’re sure he’s enthralled once more. You try to stir up the image of Luke’s closeness during archery practice, the lilac bruise on his knuckles when he angled your bow, but it doesn’t take. Now, it feels like you’ve dreamed it.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Luke leaning down to catch a whisper from the Aphrodite girl’s ear. The boy that first commented on your cheek leans closer to you again. He’s suffocatingly smug when he grins, “Why are you still here? Shouldn’t you go … wash that off? You don’t want to look like that at dinner.” He snorts. “For an Iris kid, you really aren’t good at taking a message.”

If you were a more confident person, maybe you’d point out how that didn’t really make sense, or how stupid it sounded coming out of his mouth. But the sentiment of it wounds you, and you’re weak enough as is.

"Guess you're right," you mumble. You wipe your face of paint as you leave. The memory of Luke’s skin stains you until you wash your hands off in the sink.

You haven’t talked to him since.

It’s been a few days of you avoiding him, and it’s hard to explain to anyone why you’ve been doing it. How do you tell the truth? Luke Castellan is a work of art and you are … a weird doodle, or something. Despite your adoration, you know there’s no reason he should feel the same for you. Everyone loves him for a reason. Everyone must ignore you for one, too.

“Why haven’t you been talking to Luke?”

The question breaks your concentrated silence in the Apollo cabin. You’ve been sitting here for a while now, humming to yourself over a mostly blank canvas. The cabin is dusted with a lilac haze, thanks to your manipulation of the light streaming through the windows. Helps you feel less like you’re at camp and more like you’re in a fairytale.

“Helloooo, lady, I asked you a question.”

You begrudgingly look up. Lee Fletcher, head of the Apollo cabin, is at the mouth of the cabin, gazing at all your supplies strewn about the floor like they’re a bunch of unsavoury substances. “It looks like a hurricane came in here. Now why aren’t you talking to Luke?”

“How do you know I’m not talking to him?” You mutter as Lee sits beside you.

“Uh, because you’ve been sleeping here multiple nights in a row and you never do that. And you don’t sit with him at dinner. And whenever we see him you drag me in the other direction—”

“Lee!”

“I’m just saying, you should probably talk about it. My beautiful voice can heal wounds, yes, but not of the heart.” He splays a hand across his chest in mock theatrics.

You don’t say anything. The familiar weight of the brush against your fingertips is far more comforting than trying to talk, so you busy yourself with your canvas again. “He waits for you, you know,” Lee continues, quieter. “In the morning. And before dinner. He always asks if you’re here.”

“Oh,” you say, and your wavering voice betrays your expression. But you think of everyone else at camp, their gleaming smiles and their celebrated parents, their own cabins and friends and dreams, how you don’t seem to have any of those. You think of the girl whispering in Luke’s ear. All her shades of beauty. You know it’s wrong to compare yourself, to be jealous. You’re just … sad.

The cabin darkens from a lilac to an imperceptibly gloomier shade. A blue sort of longing gets caught in your throat, blurring the colours on your canvas. But you keep your brush steady, focused on the scratch of its bristles so you don’t have to hear what you say next.

“I think I love him, Lee.” And then, “But I don’t think he loves me.”

There’s no sound except the scraping of your brush when it’s run out of paint, and a sniffle when a tear rolls down your cheek.

“Oh,” Lee fills the silence the way you did just moments before. Then he says your name, laced with pity, and hugs you on the floor of his lavender cabin.

“You want to help me lead the bonfire song tonight?” He asks after a minute. “Or at least … come to the bonfire song?”

“No to the first, yes to the second.”

You wish you said no to both.

The spot you choose after dinner is right next to the fire so you can distract yourself with the golden flecks of flame. Fire is so fluid, so complex, from a colour perspective. But no matter how close you get, the searing warmth can’t hide Luke’s gaze peering over the embers.

He will not. Stop. Looking at you.

The singing from the Apollo kids usually soothes you but tonight it’s just making you anxious. All this attention so close to you. Will Solace has been sitting next to you this whole time, your unofficial assigned companion for the night thanks to Lee. One of his siblings beckons him over, and he shoots you an apologetic look, hesitating. "Just go," you wave off kindly. "It's all good." He's not entirely convinced, and you aren't either, but he squeezes your shoulder with thanks and leaves you anyway.

Now you’re acutely aware the space next to you is wide open. And so is Luke, it seems. There’s an awkward moment where your gazes slide over each other and he weaves out of his current crowd towards you. So you do the most mature, sound thing you could possibly do in this situation:

You say you have to go to the bathroom to no one in particular and get out of there.

It’s dark, but you’ve got sharper eyes than most. Soon the noise of the campfire is behind you. You traipse through the camp towards the bathroom,but you don’t get far before you hear something that makes your stomach drop in the worst and best way.

Luke, calling your name.

At first you think you can get away with not hearing him. Then he calls a second, a third, a fourth time, punctuated with, “Come on, I know you can hear me, can you just turn around?”

He’s got longer legs than you so the next time he speaks it’s practically in your ear. “Hey, just look at me. Please. I want to talk to you.”

There’s something so tender in his voice that it makes you cave immediately. But you already feel so fragile, you can feel the tears behind your eyes. You know you won’t have the strength to talk to him.

His hand curls gently around your wrist and it sends warmth all the way up your arm. He says your name again, softer, and you love the way it sounds. You can’t meet his eyes, but you already know what he looks like. Even in the dark you picture him crystal clear.

“Look at me,” he repeats. “I just—I need to know what I did wrong.”

His dark eyes are full and apprehensive when you heed him. You notice how much you’ve missed studying his face—the slight bunch of his brows, the tensing in his jaw. And you almost delude yourself that he’s missed you just as much, the way he squeezes your wrist and rakes over your expression.

“Why are you ignoring me?” He asks.

“I’m not—”

“You are. I know you. Just tell me why.”

He looks so sweet, so earnest, and it kills you. You think of the way he looked when all his friends made fun of you. It all comes up before you can help it.

“Do you always let me walk around looking like an idiot?” You ask bitingly, staring at the floor. “The thing, with the paint on my cheek—why didn’t you tell me? I looked so stupid and all your friends just laughed at me!”

His face falls. “I tried to tell you, I thought—”

“It’s okay to say you don’t like me, or that you’re embarrassed, or whatever, but I …” You swallow, tears thick on your lower lashes. “Everyone makes fun of me. I don’t know why you don’t.”

“Because I do like you,” he states, hand moving up to your forearm.

“Don’t say that,” you whisper. “You’re so much … better, you know you are, and I don’t want your pity, or your spare time. I just—I made something up in my head that wasn’t there and I only noticed it the other day after you talked to that girl and that guy made fun of me and I’m really, really sorry—”

“It looked cute. I was trying to say I didn’t tell you about the paint because I thought it was cute.”

There’s a lull.

“What?” You blink stupidly.

“I know I should’ve told you about it, but I swear I was going to before dinner, I didn’t think we’d run into anyone before then.” His cheeks tinge red. “I had this whole dumb thing planned out where I’d wipe it off your cheek and tell you how cute it was once you got embarassed. I was waiting to tell you. I was thinking about it the whole time.”

His hand on your arm is a frighteningly grounding thing. You're dumbstruck by that alone. Your lips part, but all that comes out is, “Why?”

A gentle laugh tumbles out of his throat. “Why do you think?”

His other hand comes up to brush your cheekbone, where the paint had been, and you can imagine him doing it to you on that day. How you'd probably react just the way he said you would, the way you are now. A warm orange glow blooming in your chest. “But the girl—”

“She tried whispering to me how much she liked my bracelet,” he smiles fondly. “Told her you made it for me. It shut her up. I don’t know what that guy said to you but I chewed ‘em all out the second you left. They knew I wasn’t happy. I tried looking for you but you were gone. I don't like them, you know."

You don’t know what to say. It’s too difficult, too uncertain for you to jump the gun on this. So you just stare at all the shifting colours on his face as he moves closer to you. All this time going over his every detail, and there's still more to be enthralled by.

“I found the paintings,” he says, voice so close you can feel it brushing your skin. “The ones of me. I was looking for you in the Apollo cabin a week ago and you left one out. I knew it was yours because ... I mean, there’s no one in the world that can make me look that … beautiful.”

The last word is apprehensive but it’s spoken with an unimaginable tenderness. He looks a little teary himself. You think you’re dreaming. “I knew I had to tell you after that. I’ve been trying to tell you. But you started pulling away from me so I thought I was making it all up.”

“Tell me what?” It’s a ghost of a question between you, an impossible thing, but the hand on your arm slips around to your back and he presses it there with such certainty.

“You’re really gonna make me say it?” He cocks his head, but you nod. “I’m in love with you, I think.”

The words cascade over you in ribbons of warmth. Your brain feels fuzzy, seperate from the rest of your body. Your mouth opens multiple times but you can’t seem to control what comes out. “Luke, are you joking?”

“Not even a little.”

“But you’ve got so many other—”

“I want you.”

“I am literally the most incompetent person alive; I can’t sing, I can’t talk to people, I have a weird knee—”

"Your knee is fine!"

"I'm just saying, this makes no sense from an outsider perspective, it's—"

“Okay, clearly the telling thing isn’t working so I guess I’m just gonna have to kiss you.”

It happens so quickly you don’t have any time to think (probably for the better). You let out a surprised “oh” before his mouth silences you, stopping every other thought. He’s gentle, thumb still rubbing your cheekbone, other hand still firm at your waist. You want to panic—where should you put your hands? How do you know you’re doing this right? But he steadies you, the way he always does, and you give in.

He starts to smile against your lips. You’re almost positive the intensity of your heartbeat could summon a storm. When he pulls away, he kisses the corners of your mouth and you think you’re going to evaporate. “I don’t think I’m very good at this,” you whisper.

“You’re perfect.” He grins a little when your hands tentatively tug at a curl on the nape of his neck. “And none of that stuff you say is true. I mean, you’re definitely a better singer than me.”

Leaning close to your ear, he warbles out a song you know but gets the words horribly wrong anyways. You can’t help but laugh. “Okay, maybe you have a point.”

He hums and chuckles with you. You swear the moon gets brighter when he wraps his arms around your waist to kiss the side of your face. “Next time you paint me, I want to be there when you do it.”

You blush harder than you ever have in your life. “Only if you try painting me,” you say quietly.

“Of course. You’re very pretty, so I’m sure my horrible artistic skills won’t even make you look bad.”

Luke lets you press your face into the crook of his neck. You soak it up for all it’s worth.

In the morning, you wake up in the same position. Your nose tucked against his collarbone, the shade of pink you love freckled across his cheeks. You can't wait to paint him again.

When you look out the window, you say a silent, grateful prayer to your mother.

She's given you two more rainbows.

#perrie’s fics #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #charlie bushnell #perrie's requests #pjo #pjo x reader #pjo fic #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan fluff #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo tv show #heroes of olympus #percy jackson

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reasonsforhope · 4 months

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The World's Forests Are Doing Much Better Than We Think

You might be surprised to discover... that many of the world’s woodlands are in a surprisingly good condition. The destruction of tropical forests gets so much (justified) attention that we’re at risk of missing how much progress we’re making in cooler climates.

That’s a mistake. The slow recovery of temperate and polar forests won’t be enough to offset global warming, without radical reductions in carbon emissions. Even so, it’s evidence that we’re capable of reversing the damage from the oldest form of human-induced climate change — and can do the same again.

Take England. Forest coverage now is greater than at any time since the Black Death nearly 700 years ago, with some 1.33 million hectares of the country covered in woodlands. The UK as a whole has nearly three times as much forest as it did at the start of the 20th century.

That’s not by a long way the most impressive performance. China’s forests have increased by about 607,000 square kilometers since 1992, a region the size of Ukraine. The European Union has added an area equivalent to Cambodia to its woodlands, while the US and India have together planted forests that would cover Bangladesh in an unbroken canopy of leaves.

Logging in the tropics means that the world as a whole is still losing trees. Brazil alone removed enough woodland since 1992 to counteract all the growth in China, the EU and US put together. Even so, the planet’s forests as a whole may no longer be contributing to the warming of the planet. On net, they probably sucked about 200 million metric tons of carbon dioxide from the atmosphere each year between 2011 and 2020, according to a 2021 study. The CO2 taken up by trees narrowly exceeded the amount released by deforestation. That’s a drop in the ocean next to the 53.8 billion tons of greenhouse gases emitted in 2022 — but it’s a sign that not every climate indicator is pointing toward doom...

More than a quarter of Japan is covered with planted forests that in many cases are so old they’re barely recognized as such. Forest cover reached its lowest extent during World War II, when trees were felled by the million to provide fuel for a resource-poor nation’s war machine. Akita prefecture in the north of Honshu island was so denuded in the early 19th century that it needed to import firewood. These days, its lush woodlands are a major draw for tourists.

It’s a similar picture in Scandinavia and Central Europe, where the spread of forests onto unproductive agricultural land, combined with the decline of wood-based industries and better management of remaining stands, has resulted in extensive regrowth since the mid-20th century. Forests cover about 15% of Denmark, compared to 2% to 3% at the start of the 19th century.

Even tropical deforestation has slowed drastically since the 1990s, possibly because the rise of plantation timber is cutting the need to clear primary forests. Still, political incentives to turn a blind eye to logging, combined with historically high prices for products grown and mined on cleared tropical woodlands such as soybeans, palm oil and nickel, mean that recent gains are fragile.

There’s no cause for complacency in any of this. The carbon benefits from forests aren’t sufficient to offset more than a sliver of our greenhouse pollution. The idea that they’ll be sufficient to cancel out gross emissions and get the world to net zero by the middle of this century depends on extraordinarily optimistic assumptions on both sides of the equation.

Still, we should celebrate our success in slowing a pattern of human deforestation that’s been going on for nearly 100,000 years. Nothing about the damage we do to our planet is inevitable. With effort, it may even be reversible.

-via Bloomburg, January 28, 2024

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dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling · 8 months

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Can you do headcanons for a young child reader who constantly follows jax around, loves physical affection, and thinks jax is their 'dad'?

(Obviously this request is plantonic, not romantic!)

I think I might've went a little overboard with this one! Way longer than most of my posts but I guess that isn't really a bad thing ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

Jax unwillingly becomeing a parent

★ His first and only question was how the hell did a four year old get in this situation. The headset should have been way out of reach for you. Questions that will never be answered, I guess.

★ After making you cry the first time he spoke to you he tried to steer clear of you. That worked out horribly because you seemed to want to always be near him. Much to everyone's confusion.

★ "oh my! Looks like the little one has taken an interest in you!" Was Cain's response to seeing you huddled up near Jax. At some point he gets a child harness to keep you in his line of sight. It's just easier this way.

★ By the way he didn't mean to make you cry, he just didn't know how young you were and said something he would've said to an adult. Kids cry easily, what are you gonna do?

★ Jax stole a few pillows from Kinger for you to sleep with. Yes, you don't technically need to sleep but he's not going to tell you that. Nap time is one of the only times he can get a moment to himself.

★ He gets beyond pissed when you get woken up during nap time. To the point where he's barely keeping it together and wants to beat whoever woke you up with a chair leg.

★ If you want to be picked up, then he's picking you up. It doesn't matter if he's talking to somebody or doing something. You'll get picked up while he's doing something and without missing a beat he'll continue like nothing happened.

★ Instead of giving you the usual Jax treatment, he just tells you the most outlandish lies while trying to convince you that they are true. Sometimes he tells you something that sounds so true you don't question his bullshit.

There's a list of things he's told you!

If you push down on Ragatha's nose it will make a honking noise.

There's a secret room hidden in a closet filled with veggies for people who are allergic to meat.

Birds aren't real.

When he was your age, he was a year older. (It took you a moment to figure that one out)

Caine is the tooth fairy.

★ Jax isn't known for his empathy, but he does feel conflicted when you talk about small details from your life before meeting him. What color your house was, the lullabies your mother sang and the books you used to be read. It all makes him think.

★ You're family might be looking for you, not knowing where you are and that you're trapped. Do you even realize this? They probably think you're dead, that something terrible happened to you. Those thoughts make his stomach sink.

★ If he cares about you this much he can only imagine the grief your family feels. You will forever be a blissfully ignorant child not knowing the truth of what's really going on.

#the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital circus fandom #the amazing digital circus x reader #the amazing digital circus jax #tadc #tadc x reader #tadc jax #tadc headcanon #tadc fanfiction #jax #jax x reader #jax fanfiction #digital circus jax

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augustinewrites · 1 year

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tsumiki asks the question on a rare, relaxed saturday afternoon. with both the kid’s baseball games canceled due to some heavy morning rain, the four of you were taking the time to do some much needed relaxation.

“how did you guys end up together?”

satoru lifts his head from your lap, where you’d been plucking his brows. “isn’t it obvious? it was due to my roguishly handsome good looks and sharp comedic wit.”

megumi scoffs from his spot on the armchair. “i doubt that.”

you press your cheek against your boyfriend’s shoulder, laughing. “that’s cute, babe, but do you want to tell them how it really happened? or should i?”

“i’ll tell them,” he volunteers. “because i have been in love with you a lot longer than you might think.”

_____

satoru meets you when he’s seventeen years old. (it’s a stupid age. ‘cause when you’re seventeen, you’re all hormones and ego and think the world revolves around you.)

so he doesn’t pay you much mind when yaga first introduces you to his little class, because honestly? he’d taken one look at you, fresh out of the countryside with your perfectly pressed uniform, not a hair out of place or a battle scar on your body and was extremely underwhelmed. so he’d brushed you off like lint on his sleeve, because he doubted you’d even survive the year. no point in getting to try and know you.

that same afternoon, you’d unleashed hell on him with your shikigami and almost broken his nose.

“i’m sorry,” you’d muttered when you’d forcibly accompanied him to the infirmary.

“you don’t sound sorry,” he’d huffed. his nose (and his ego) were definitely bruised.

you rolled your eyes and muttered something that was probably really mean under your breath. he’s about to tell you off when he feels blood start to drip again, cursing and pinching the bridge of his nose as he tilts his head back.

“you’re supposed to tilt your head forward,” you sigh, handing him another folded up piece of paper towel.

he doesn’t take it, glaring down at you. “why would i do that?”

shoko and geto walk behind you both, highly amused by your bickering. “they’d be good together, don’t you think?”

“if they don’t kill each other first.” the latter chuckles, shoving his hands in his pockets as he eyes you both.

“if you tilt your head forward, then the blood drips out and not in–”

“why? that’s where the blood is supposed to be.”

“no, it’s not, and if you’d just let me finish what i was saying instead of interrupting me–”

it’s not the last time he interrupts you. it’s not the last time the two of you bicker or the last time he walks with you through the courtyard. days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months, and even though you’d almost broken his nose that first day, he quickly realizes that he couldn’t imagine you anywhere but with him.

_____

it’s late when he sneaks out of your room, sunset streaming through the courtyard as he peeks around the corner, on the lookout for any faculty before he dashes back to the boy’s dorm…

…only to run into geto, who’s standing outside. he feels bad for a second, because they haven’t really talked since…well, everything.

but he just flicks his cigarette, grinning in that all too knowing way of his. “what were you doing in the girl’s wing, creeper?”

“nothing,” he lies, but his cheeks are warm, there are butterflies in his stomach, and he can’t seem to stop smiling.

his best friend looks at him. really looks at him. “oh, man. you’re so obvious.”

“i’m not obvious, you’re obvious,” he retorts.

geto takes another drag before holding it out to him. gojo shakes his head. “you’re one of the smartest, yet dumbest people i know. so i’m going to help you now, because i think without guidance, you are capable of making extremely rash romantic decisions.”

“that’s not true–”

“it’s very true. like that fact that you’re in love with…” geto nods his head towards the girl’s dorm, grinning.

he tucks his chin under the collar of his jacket when he feels heat crawl up his neck, looking away. “that’s ridiculous. i’m not…it’s not like that. we’re just…hanging out.”

“really?” his friend checks. “because the way that you look at her, i mean…wow. we’ve all seen it. you look at her like you hear tiny forest animals singing whenever she walks into a room.”

satoru bristles slightly, because he’s not entirely off the mark.

(but seventeen is a stupid age, and at the time he knew he cared for you deeply, but he didn’t know he loved you yet.)

geto knows though, and just shrugs. “i know you’ll see it someday too.”

_____

“do these shoes go with my outfit?” you ask, looking over your shoulder.

gojo shrugs, hardly even glancing up from his phone. “sure.”

“you didn’t even look!”

he exhales a harsh breath, tossing his phone onto your bed as he looks up at you. “why are you trying so hard for some guy you don’t even like? i mean– have you even met him?”

“no,” you sigh, smoothing your hands over your dress. “but me meeting him is really important to my father.”

he leans back against your headboard, folding his hands behind his head. “why?”

“because a proposal from the kamo clan is a really big deal.” you startle when he sits up so fast that his glasses fall from their perch atop his head. “oh my– what’s wrong?!”

“everything about that sentence. a proposal? as in to be wed?”

“yes, gojo,” you confirm, turning back to adjust your earrings in the mirror. “i was born outside of the zen’in clan, but i have their inherited technique. my dad…all these years he’s worked hard to keep me off their radar so i wouldn’t be stuck there. so i wouldn’t be unhappy like he was. if i accept this proposal and join the kamo clan…all his hard work wouldn’t be for nothing.”

“the kamo clan,” he repeats, shaking his head. he’s not sure why he’s so annoyed. it’s hard to pinpoint the exact reason. “they’re based in kyoto. you’d– you’d have to leave.”

he doesn’t say anything for a long moment, but all the unsaid things that he’s been too scared to admit to himself (and especially to you) must be written all over his face, because you hesitate before you step out the door, looking back at him hopefully.

“have fun,” is all he says instead, pretending not to notice when your expression falls. “i’ll probably be out when you get back, but just text so i know you’re alright and haven’t already been whisked off to kyoto.”

_____

“but you never joined the kamo clan,” tsumiki notes, sending you a questioning look. “why did your dad to change his mind?”

“i…actually still don’t know,” you admit, smiling softly. “he’s never told me.”

“well, whatever the reason, it doesn’t matter now. ‘cause you’re right where you’re supposed to be,” satoru grins. he presses a soft kiss to your lips, but pulls back with a laugh when the kids groan loudly. “on that note, i’m going to start cleaning up.”

megumi, who’d been silent the entire story, gets up to help, trailing after him into the kitchen.

“it was you,” he says once you and tsumiki are out of earshot.

satoru sets the stack of plates on the counter, glancing over his shoulder at him. “hm?”

“you made some kind of deal with her family, didn’t you? like you did for me.”

he doesn’t answer right away, moving leftover vegetables into a container. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

besides, that was then and this was now. he’s older and wiser and he knows that he’s loved you since he was seventeen years old.

_____

your father seems taken aback, and not just because satoru gojo was standing in his study, but because of what he was proposing. “excuse me?”

blue eyes land on a photo of you on your father’s desk. you’re cherished here. loved. letting you go must be hard, even if it’s for your own good. “you want to keep her away from the zen’in’s right? if she joins the gojo clan, we’ll make the idea of even coming near her radioactive.”

“but the only way to do that is–”

“marriage. to me, specifically,” he finishes with an easy shrug, as if he’s merely speaking about the weather. “quick, easy, simple. now you can reject the kamo clan’s proposal.”

your father is a smart man, that much is obvious. he’s kept you out of the zen’in’s grasp for years, even after news of your inherited technique had spread. there’s no way he’d turn down a deal as good as this.

“i have nothing to offer you,” he says now, expression pinched. “no dowry, or things of the like.”

“i don’t need your money,” he dismisses with a wave of his hand. “in fact, i only have three conditions.”

gojo’s three conditions

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #keeping up with the fushigojos

7K notes · View notes

sankttealeaf · 9 months

Note

Can I request Tav and astarion but they get trapped together and astarion has to feed but feels like Tav offering isn’t really giving consent since they are trapped and he thinks they feel obligated. Bonus points if they’re also bickering and pining for other

this was so much fun to write! i may have gotten a little carried away but i hope you enjoy!! requests are still open if anyone is interested<3 i'm really enjoying writing these and am open for more ideas!!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

trapped

pairing ; astarion x gender neutral!reader

summary ; a wild treasure hunt leads to an unfortunate situation where you find yourself stuck in a cave-in with Astarion. / ao3

other info ; wyll, karlach and gale get special roles in this because i physically cannot stop myself from including other companions in the background. no real spoilers for the game so you're free to read wherever you are in the game!!

warnings ; vampire feeding, blood mention, vague mention of Astarion's past, general conversation surrounding consent (but everything is consensual because that's hot)

word count ; 5.9k (again. went a little wild)

You have no idea how long you have been walking for. It feels like days though you are certain it was only a few hours. The lack of sunlight is starting to get to you and the cramped cave system you are walking through is really not where you wanted to be today.

Was it a little ridiculous to be chasing a lead you found on a note on a dead traveller? Probably. Did you have to convince everyone that it wouldn't be a waste of their time? Yes. But here you are, travelling in the dark to hunt down buried treasure.

Karlach was more than happy to join you, in fact she was the first one who volunteered to be part of the “treasure hunting team”, as she called it. She managed to get Wyll involved and you were happy with this group. As you were getting ready to leave you had a last minute addition to the team - Astarion. Why he wanted to join you trekking through a damp cave, you had no idea. You weren’t going to ask, either.

So, here you are in the depths of a cave system, following a badly drawn map that should lead you all to hidden treasure. It took you way too long to get to this location and the day is already drawing to a close. You are certain you weren’t going to make it back to camp before nightfall. This treasure has to be worth it.

Through flooded areas and tight walkways, the deeper you get into the cave the quicker your hopes that this treasure would be easy to find crumbles. On the map it looks simple, yet the actual cave was difficult to navigate and you are not as prepared as you thought you would be. Perhaps you should have taken the spare rope from Halsin before you left camp. Karlach spends the time picking up interesting rocks she comes across, rushing over to show you with a grin on her face and a list of places to put it back at camp. You have a few rocks she gave to you in your pocket and you are glad that her optimism never falters the longer you travel. Wyll has marked arrows on the walls to keep track of where you have been, which is an idea that didn't even cross your mind until you noticed him doing it. And Astarion is… complaining.

Maybe complaining is the wrong word. It's more like he has been announcing loudly how he thought this would be an easy task to complete. He didn't sign up to be wading through knee deep cave water or scrambling over rocks to get to the next area. Neither did you, but you aren’t complaining about it.

You have managed to drown out his comments for the most part, keeping your focus on following the map and making sure not to get lost. There have been a few times where you almost walked on some loose stone and went plummeting down into the depths of the cave and you really didn't fancy getting stuck down here. You have also noticed the further you went into the cave the more dust and debris that fell from the ceiling. A sinking feeling begins to settle in your stomach and you approach each step with caution.

“Personally I think this map is leading us to a dead end,” Astarion says as he slinks up next to you, ignoring how lost in focus you were. “We should cut our losses and return back to camp before nightfall, don’t you agree?”

The dust from the ceiling drops in front of you again as you pause, reaching an arm out to stop Astarion in his tracks. “Be quiet, would you?”

“Everything alright?” Wyll asks from behind, hand reaching for his rapier in case something jumps out to attack.

Either something was down here with you or the cave ceiling isn’t as strong as you would like. You didn't know which thought was worse. Turning back to Wyll and Karlach, you shake your head slightly. “Be on your guard. Something’s off.”

“This is what I’ve been saying for the past five minutes. Have you seriously not been listening to me?” Astarion asks as you continue walking at a slower pace now, acutely aware of every foreign noise that doesn’t come from your group.

“Not really. I’m trying to keep us alive here,” you reply quietly, eyes darting from the floor to your surroundings in quick succession.

You stop in your steps as you hear the rumbling grow louder, though Astarion keeps talking even after you shush him again. It’s a rolling noise, one that grows the more you focus on it; a sound of rock against rock and a low rumble from above. You cast your gaze upwards and spot the beginnings of a large crack splitting the ceiling. Like pressure on ice, it splits into several off shoots before crumbling beneath whatever weight was on it.

You quickly pull Astarion towards you, dragging him away from the collapsing ceiling as you both fall to the floor with a thud. In an instant, your surroundings grow darker as a wall of stone and rubble barricades you and Astarion from Wyll and Karlach. The dust settles from the sudden upheaval of rock and the noise you have been hearing stops. Shit.

“Are you both alright?” Wyll calls out from behind the rubble and you can hear the sound of stone grating against stone which only cements your idea that this could be an early grave for you both if you didn't think fast.

You glance over at Astarion who is dusting himself off, rubbing at his elbow in a way that makes you assume he landed on it wrong. “We’re alive… just.”

“Does the map show any other ways to get to you? I’m not certain we can budge all this stone…” Wyll asks as you hear the sound of metal against the stone and a disappointed sigh from Karlach. You sit upright, grabbing the map from where it fell onto the ground and frown. It was a one way system, looping back around the way you came once you got to where the treasure was. This pathway is the only way in and out of the cave. You are stuck.

“So, uh… bad news… There’s no other way around,” you reply. The silence that follows on their end is not a good sign, however it is quickly broken by Astarion.

“What?!” He looks at you in dismay, his face falling at the thought of being stuck here. “You cannot be serious.”

“We’ll find a way to get you guys out! Don’t even stress!” Karlach yells. Her voice gets quiet but you can still hear her. “Do you think they’re stressed, Wyll?”

You take a moment to assess the cave-in, trying to budge a few rocks out of place but nothing moves. Perhaps with enough force they could be displaced, but you don’t have anything on that level right now.

“Wyll? Do you have anything that could push the rocks away?” you ask, hoping he has something in or on him that could force the rocks out of place.

“I don’t…” he pauses for a moment, before you hear him click his fingers together as an idea forms. “But Gale does. I know the spell you are hinting at. We can go back and get him?” he suggests, and you run the time it would take for them to get back to camp and back here again in your head. They would be back by early morning at the earliest… Which means you will need to spend the night in a cold, slightly damp cave. You give Astarion a look.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m not going to dig our way out. My hands are way too delicate for that,” he says, turning his back to the problem at hand.

“Gale seems to be our only way out, which means we may need to spend the night here…” you tell him.

“Gale? Our only hope? What is he going to do, talk the rocks to death?” He rolls his eyes. “Surely there’s another way out?”

“There isn’t.” You sigh, rubbing at your temples as you begin to feel a stress headache forming. “And he can use spells, Astarion. Gale can shatter the rocks or something. They’re too tightly packed to move them normally. We’re stuck here until he can sort it out.”

“Great. Wonderful, actually. I’ve always wanted to spend a night in a cave. Thanks for this, really!” His voice drips with sarcasm and you have to physically hold yourself back from getting annoyed at him.

“I didn't personally cause this cave in! You think I want to be stuck here with you like this? Gods, you are infuriating.”

Before the argument could escalate, Wyll calls out from behind the wall of rocks that he and Karlach are going to head back to camp and grab Gale. They’ll be as quick as they can, he promises. It gives you some reassurance that you will not be stuck here for too long with Astarion.

The sound of your fellow companions leaving fills you with anxiety as the clock begins to tick on getting you both out alive. This is not how you planned this trip to go and you are starting to wonder if this was even worth it at this point. Astarion didn't seem to think so.

"For your information, I am not sleeping on the floor with no bedroll. This is expensive fabric, I’m not ruining it.” Astarion gestures to his outfit as you begin to set yourself down on the ground, ready to call it a day.

“We’ve camped in worse places, I don’t understand why you’re complaining so much about this,” you say, rummaging through your bag and thanking the Gods you packed some food for yourself.

“At least at camp I have my tent. And all my belongings. And comfort. Do I need to go on?” He shifts in his stance, looking down the tunnel to avoid your gaze.

You glare at him. “Okay, fine, I guess this isn’t an ideal place to rest. But I don’t want to travel too far in case we get lost. And then we’ll probably die down here. Do you want that?”

He sighs but doesn’t make a comment. You take it as a win.

After placing the contents of your bag onto the ground you come to two conclusions. One: the floor is far too damp to start a fire which means you are going to spend the next few hours cold. Two: you have enough food for yourself, but you aren’t sure if Astarion bought anything of use with him. You didn't see him pack much before he said he was joining you. He is still standing when you look over to him again.

“Are you going to stand all night?” you ask as he nods, still avoiding your gaze.

“Like I said. Expensive fabric. I’m not ruining it because someone got us trapped in here,” he replies and you roll your eyes. Wordlessly, you unbuckle your cloak from your shoulders and place it down on the floor for him. The dampness of the floor is most likely going to ruin your nice and expensive cloak, but at least it will stop him complaining. Hopefully.

He looks from you to the cloak and back again, confusion crossing his face and disappearing as quickly as it arrived. “What’s that for?”

“Just sit down. Please.” You start to reorganise the contents of your back, returning the tinderbox and an almost empty waterskin but keeping out the food you swiped before you left. When you look back up, you see Astarion has sat down atop your cloak. You hold back a smile.

The silence that falls over the both of you is broken by droplets of water or the sound of other vaguely ominous cave noises. If your timing is right you are certain it was now early evening. Hopefully Karlach and Wyll have left the cave by now.

“Did you bring any food?” you ask after a little while passes. It’s only when the question leaves your lips that you realise it is a stupid one. The look Astarion gives you only enhances your point.

“Yes, actually. I have three live rabbits tucked neatly away in my bag in case I fancied a snack,” he responds, opening up his pack with a flourish. “Did you want one? I’m so happy to share.” A few books and his trusty thieves tools were the only things you spot before he shoves his bag to the side with a frown. “Of course I didn't bring any food.”

You feel bad holding a stale bread roll in your hand as he tells you that and you lower it down slightly, letting him continue his rant.

“I was considering going to hunt down a cave bat or something. Not what I wanted, but I guess a life of “adventure”-” he says the word with exaggerated air quotes around them, “means that I bury the idea that I’ll ever get a lavish meal again.” He crosses his arms in annoyance.

“You shouldn’t eat a bat. You could get sick. Rabies, or something like that,” you tell him, though you aren’t sure your fun fact is a welcomed sight right now. The look on his face tells you that it isn't. “Halsin told me that after I tried to convince him to keep a family of bats that were living near one of the spots we set up camp a while ago…”

Astarion blinks, unsure of how he is supposed to react to that nugget of information. “Now my meal options have been reduced to nothing. Thanks. You’re truly a beacon of hope.”

An idea pings into your mind as you take in how irritated he is getting, most likely from the lack of food on his part. Not that you have been keeping tabs on when he would feed but from your calculations it had been a while. The last time he fed on you was a week or so ago and you still felt the sting of his fangs against your neck even now. It is an uncomfortable sensation and you were certain that it would only happen again in dire circumstances.

This feels like a dire circumstance…

“You can feed on me if you want.” The words come out quickly before you have a chance to think too deeply about the implications of it. You take a mouthful of bread to stop yourself from taking back the offer.

The irritation on his face dissipates into a softer look, one you didn't recognize. His usual quick remarks have vanished at your suggestion and it takes him a good minute to respond. The minute feels like hours to you as you start to regret even offering. Was it weird? Did you say it in a strange way?

“You don’t… I mean, I’m sure I’ll manage until we get back to camp.” He waves nonchalantly though you are unsure if he really means it.

“No offence but I have noticed you lagging behind a little lately…” you begin, unable to hold your gaze on him. “I just assumed, well, y’know… Plus I have a lot of blood to spare, so I don’t mind.” You cringe a little at that last sentence, wondering why you said it like that.

“It’s really not a big deal, I’m perfectly fine! If need be I can always go and find…” he grimaces at the next few words that leave his mouth, “a cave rat or something.”

You aren’t sure if you should feel offended at how he hasn’t jumped on the opportunity to feed from a person. Maybe it is because of how little you allowed him to feed on you. Maybe he hates you and would rather drink blood from a rat than you. You push that thought away with a frown.

“Astarion, I’m offering this to you if you need to,” you say as you set down your own food. “I’d rather you do it while I’m awake this time.” You see that he is thinking of more ways to put barriers between him and feeding on you and you wish he could be straightforward with you and say no.

“You’re all the way over there and like I said before, I don’t want to get my clothes wet,” he says and you can’t help but laugh at that. “What?”

“You can tell me no, it’s okay. I just thought I’d offer seeing as I really doubt you’ll find many cave rats around.”

He’s quiet for a moment and you can’t work out what he’s thinking. With what little you know about Astarion and his past you can’t help but assume he hasn’t had that many opportunities to say no to things.

He considers his words, opening and closing his mouth a few times before sighing, looking at you with a soft frown. “I don’t want you to feel like you are obligated to do this considering our circumstance.”

You blink in confusion at that, unsure why he feels that way. You wouldn't have offered if you didn't feel comfortable in allowing him to feed, so why was he convinced you were doing this because there was no other option?

“We haven’t built up much of a feeding rapport, that’s all! We haven’t… done this much. It still feels new.” He looks away and it clicks in your head at once - he’s nervous. You are also incredibly nervous about this, but if it means he is at the top of his game afterwards then the pain would be a small price to pay for it.

“I have no idea how else I’m supposed to say this: I’m giving you permission to feed on me, Astarion.” You want to know what he is thinking as your words hang in the air. You want to tell him that this is you telling him it’s okay, you’re wanting this just as much as he needs it.

He waits a moment, like he is expecting you to tell him you're joking or change your mind but it doesn't happen. When he realises you mean this and aren't saying it for the sake of it, he gives you a nod.

"Alright. Only if you're sure," he says quietly, moving over on your cloak to give you room beside him. You move over to sit next to him, glad to be off the cold floor and sitting on something that wasn't as uncomfortable.

"Is this alright? Do you need me to be in a certain position?" you ask quickly, shifting yourself from sitting on your knees to crossing your legs.

"It's easier if you lay down," he replies, quickly adding, "for the blood flow."

"Right. That makes sense." You check to see how much room you have of your cloak behind you before shuffling forward, coming face to face with Astarion for a moment. The sudden closeness causes you to stop in your tracks for a moment, holding his gaze for a moment longer than what is normal.

It's strange how you never really see Astarion without his guard up. Whenever you two bicker it was always with his signature smile on his face and a carefree laugh after each comment. But seeing him here and now with the gentle furrow of his brows and the soft lines etched along his face you can't help but try to memorise it all. Without even realising you found yourself moving a hand up to brush some hair from his face, stopping yourself once it rested ever so lightly against his cheek. You are about to pull away until you feel him lean into the touch, something you had not planned on happening.

The sound of a loose rock falling a little way away causes the moment to break as you pull away from him quickly, ready to move in case there was another cave in.

In an instant, the facade he has is pulled back up. "Are you trying to get me to starve to my death?" he asks once you have realised there was no chance of another incident. You laugh a little in response, cheeks warming up at the moment the two of you just shared.

"Wanted the last thing I saw to be something good. You know, in case you drink all of my blood and I die," you tease, before laying back on your cloak. The reality of what was about to happen is starting to settle in now and you keep your focus on the ceiling above you, not on Astarion.

"I promise you I won't kill you. I don't have any way of getting you back and I'd rather not have to explain to the others what happened," he replies, hands moving to either side of your head to hold himself up. He's at an angle, legs staying to one side of you. It's a little awkward and you can tell it's not ideal for him.

"That's good to hear! I do bring a scroll of revivify with me everywhere so we have a backup plan… just in case." It is hard to keep your gaze on the ceiling now as Astarion leans over you. Your heart pounds heavily against your chest and you cannot work out if it's because you know you are about to lose blood and it was working to keep it flowing or perhaps because of something else you didn't want to admit to yourself.

"Are you ready?" he asks softly, and you can already anticipate the sharp sting of his fangs piercing your skin. You give him a nod and turn your head to the side, exposing your neck to him.

He leans in and you can feel his breath against your neck. It takes everything in you to not turn to look at him, even seeing him so close out of the corner of your eye was enough to redden your cheeks. You hope he didn't notice.

The sudden pain is sharp and takes you off guard, reaching to grab onto Astarion's shoulder tightly to try and take your mind off of it. It's not as bad as the first time he fed from you, but it certainly isn't any better. He shifts positions as you see his legs now straddling you, and if anyone were to suddenly burst down the wall of rock it would be a rather embarrassing encounter for everyone. You forgot how intimate this whole ordeal could be.

You close your eyes as the pain subsides, now giving way to a feeling of numbness that crashes over you. You're very aware of the feeling of his lips against your neck and it would be so easy to let yourself imagine this was something else entirely. But then you move and the discomfort of your blood being removed from your body kicks back in and you have to stop yourself from allowing him to take too much from you. You give his shoulder a soft squeeze, and when there's no response from him you are forced to find your voice.

"Hey…" You mumble, tightening your grip on his shoulder. "Astarion..?"

He does nothing except press himself closer to you, savouring every last drop he could get. Black spots begin to fill your vision and with what little strength you had in you, you smack your arm down into his side to get him to stop.

He pulls away from your neck at the impact, blood smeared across his lips and his pupils dilated - you can hardly see the red anymore. Would it be odd to say that he looked so very handsome like this?

"Shit," he says breathlessly, "might have over indulged there. Sorry."

You give him a weak laugh, feeling your head spin at the sudden blood loss. "S'alright. Just glad you didn't kill me."

His eyes glance back at your neck as you speak, and when he leans you worry that he was going in for round two. You are taken aback when he licks across the area he had just bitten. If you weren't so dizzy you would have questioned him as he sits back, still straddling your waist.

"I'm not about to waste perfectly good blood," he says, noticing the confusion on your face. "Are you alright, though? You look a little pale."

You give him a thumbs up, still laying down. "All good. Missing some blood, that's all."

He nods, watching as you close your eyes again. You could quite easily drift off to sleep right now, the dizziness and the general feeling of not being right only adding to the need to rest. When you don't feel Astarion move off of you, you open one of your eyes to make sure he was okay.

"Are you alright?" you ask, catching him deep in thought.

"Oh, yes, I'm great. Wonderful. Absolutely perfect," he replies too quickly for it to be truthful. You frown, sitting up slowly to be at eye level with him.

"Is there more blood there still?" you ask him, watching as his eyes keep going back to your neck. "If there is, you should get it."

His touch is so soft you cannot discern if he was cleaning up some blood on your neck or if it is a kiss. When it happens again you realise he isn't cleaning up your neck but kissing over the spot he had just bitten. It is a strange feeling and one you didn't expect to feel after being drained from your blood, but as he moves along your neck leaving faint kisses in his trail you wonder if perhaps he had similar feelings towards you as you did him. You have always been happy to push those feelings down, keeping your focus on the main goal at hand. But here, trapped in a cave with no one to bug you to keep on track, maybe you could indulge yourself this once.

Astarion pulls back from your neck to look at you, his lips are still tinted a softer red from your blood and you find yourself staring at them for a little too long. Gently, you place your hand back on his cheek, smiling when he leans into the touch again. His hand moves to cover yours and you are still in shock at how soft his movements are.

The gap between you both closes slowly and you are aware of what this would lead to. Playful remarks and comments about hooking up were one thing, but this was not playing out like how you imagined it would. You didn't picture yourself being stuck in a cave with him, for starters. You want to ask him if this was okay, if this was even allowed.

You opened your mouth to speak and are suddenly caught off guard by the sound of more rocks falling elsewhere, echoing through the cave. The sudden sound causes you to flinch as you both turn to look in the direction it came from, further along the tunnel. At least it wasn't the way you came, you thought.

Astarion looks back at you after a moment and clears his throat, sitting back to put some distance between you both.

"You should get some rest. I'll, uh, keep watch in case the others turn up," he says quickly, climbing off of your lap in a clumsy manner. You can't help but feel slightly sad at the loss of his touch, but sleep was begging for you to join it.

"Wake me if anything happens," you tell him as you lay back down, already closing your eyes. You don't hear his response as sleep greets you with open arms.

Sounds of your name being called over and over again wakes you up from your slumber. Your head hurts and you feel as if you've been fighting fifty different battles and didn't win one of them. There was a pressure on your chest and as you come to you are met with a mess of white hair laying on you, Astarion's arms wrapped tightly around your midriff. You smile softly at the scene, hand moving to brush through his hair slowly. He hums in response but the moment is broken by your names being called again.

"Are you both still alive?" It's Wyll, you note, which only means he and Karlach had either gotten lost and returned back or they had Gale with them.

"We're still here!" you call back, still groggy from sleep. "Is Gale with you?"

Gale's voice is heard next and you have never been so happy to hear him speak. "The one and only!"

"Thank the Gods. Gale, I promise you that I will buy you whatever you want when we get to Baldur's Gate, just please tell me you have a way to get us out of here," you say, hoping that he had good news with him.

Astarion stirs from all the loud conversation, pressing himself closer to you in an attempt to drown out the noise. You move your hand from his head as you try to sit yourself up. It doesn't work.

Gale continues speaking. "I have a way to get you both out, don't you worry. I will need to ask you both to stand as far back as possible. I mean it. Far. Back."

You give Astarion a shake of his shoulder, trying to wake him. "Hey. Get up. We're almost out of here."

"This is not a good time to wake me up," he grumbles, swatting your hand away with a groan. "Too early."

"Gale is literally on the other side ready to blow this wall of rocks up. Wake up." You continue to shake him awake, ignoring the groans of protest.

He turns to look up at you with pleading eyes. "He can wait five more minutes. Please?"

You want to say yes, to give in and allow himself a moment of comfort. But your back hurts from laying on rock for hours and you want nothing more than to sit in your own tent and get some fresh air. You sit up quickly, causing Astarion to lose his place on your chest and sit up with you.

"I cannot believe this betrayal," he exclaims dramatically, giving you a half-asleep but playful glare. "Being this pretty doesn't come easy, you know. I need my sleep."

"You don't even sleep," you mumble, ignoring how your head sways as you push yourself up to your feet. "And you're pretty enough already." You blame the aches and pains for that last comment, though it doesn't seem to go past Astarion as quickly as you wish it did.

He grins. "You think I'm pretty?"

"Shut up and move your things. I want to get back to camp." You begin to pack away your belongings, shoving things back into your pack and waiting for Astarion to do the same. He picks up your cloak and gives it a quick brush off before putting it on himself. You're too busy putting distance between yourself and the rocks to even notice this. He slides up next to you after a moment, arm wrapping around your shoulder with a grin.

"Okay, I think you're good to go!" you yell, hoping Gale can hear you through the wall. You get confirmation almost immediately afterwards.

You feel Astarion lean towards you as you wait. "I think we should get trapped together more often. Who knows what else it could lead to?"

"More puncture holes in my neck, probably," you mumble in response. He laughs, his lips meeting your neck again just under the place where he drank from you hours ago.

"But you're so delectable," he whispers and you glare at him. The blush rising on your cheeks tells him you aren't mad.

With an almighty crash of thunder, the rocks that made up the wall you have been trapped behind suddenly disperse, the larger ones shattering and the smaller ones turning into dust. You cover your face at the impact and when your ears stop ringing you turn to see Gale, Wyll and Karlach on the other side.

Karlach immediately runs over, arms outstretched and embracing both you and Astarion without thinking.

"I'm so glad you both aren't dead. I have no idea how I'd break the news to Scratch and the Cub! Or everyone else, I suppose," she says once she lets go of you both, your clothes slightly singed by the warmth emanating from her.

"Did you find the treasure?" Gale asks when the three of you walk back to him and Wyll and is only slightly disappointed when you shake your head no. "Ah, well, nothing lost then! I'm sure there's plenty of other treasure to be found. Hopefully not in caves, though. Might I suggest avoiding them in the future?"

"Suggestion taken. I miss sunlight," you reply, feeling Astarion's hand move from your shoulder to the small of your back.

"We had fun though, didn't we? A cave-in can certainly bring people closer together. Right, my dear?" Astarion grins, giving you a wink.

"As much as we all would love to know what that's insinuating, we really should get out of here before there's another freak accident," Wyll suggests, gesturing to the way out.

You nod, wanting nothing more than to breathe fresh air and be away from cramped spaces.

The journey out of the cave is long and feels longer due to the woozy feeling of having a little less blood than you started the journey with. You find yourself leaning on Astarion for support every now and then and he is more than happy to wrap an arm around you to keep you up. The two of you are at the back of the group; you didn't want your slow pace slowing everyone else down.

"I never thanked you earlier," Astarion says quietly to you, a look of sincerity on his face.

"Oh, it's no problem," you reply, nudging him with your elbow. "Just don't almost kill me next time."

"Next time?" He raises an eyebrow with a grin. "You'll allow me to go for seconds?"

"As long as you treat me as nicely as you did afterwards, I may consider it." Thinking about the almost kiss that happened after makes you blush and Astarion shrugs casually, though you can spot the faintest hint of pink spreading across his cheeks.

"Maybe. We can always do that without the biting part," he suggests. "Only if you want."

"I'd like that." You give him a smile, leaning over to press a kiss onto his cheek. "Only if you want, too."

The first sign of daylight causes you to pull away from him before he can respond as you rush over to the opening of the cave with Karlach, thankful to get fresh air again.

Astarion watches you go, listening to you cheering and praising Gods you didn't believe in. How quickly his plans could crumble. How quickly you made him feel accepted. There was a knot present in his stomach that was slowly untangling itself the more he thought about intimacy with you. Perhaps, one day, he would want that with you.

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x gender neutral reader #; tealeaf's writing

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mrsnancywheeler · 5 months

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the river (1) // finnick odair x f.reader

summary: the Capitol has taken you away from Finnick, the life you've been trying to build together and now he has to fight to get every part of you back

the end of a trilogy

the lakes previous chapter

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masterlist

7.2k words

warnings: angst, fluff, mental illness, suicidal ideations, self hate, young finnick and reader dynamics, a love triangle that was never a love triangle, smug finnick, it's so cheesey, pining, this is not a slow burn, implied soulmates, unedited, no use of y/n, allusions to trafficking, mentions of torture

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Finnick’s been staring blankly at the hovercrafts’ walls for longer than he can imagine, since it had stopped waiting and left you for dead in the dilapidated arena. He knew if he reacted the way he wanted too they would sedate him and currently he needed to live with his guilt. He should've refused to let you go with Katniss, or have torn out your tracker himself. Most importantly he should never have told you about the rebel plan, of course he only revealed the basics on how you were to get Katniss out of the arena and go to District 13, but that could seriously jeopardize any semblance of sympathy the Capitol would have for you.

He imagined you on the beach, devoting your life and love to him, and how before Snow broke or killed you, maybe even both, he'd never given you a proper wedding. All the traditions from back home, in a proper ceremony, with a dress would never happen. A large part of him didn't even feel like fighting the rebellion for you, since there was a probability that if the rebels one, you wouldn't be there on the other side to greet him. What was the point of a life if your future, the happiness, the children you could have had if all of this was behind you, if you were gone forever.

Plutarch begins to say something, but Finnick raises his hand as if to indicate he can't listen or speak right now. He's trying not to snap, not to take control of the ship so he can immediately perform his own rescue mission. Of course people were going to get hurt, even die, in the cause of the rebellion, but it was never supposed to be you. Why was he cursed to love someone who refused to patiently wait for him, who needed to be a part of the action? That's what had always been so magnetic about you though, the way you refused to fall into any constraints about how your life should be lived. Maybe, if you hadn't been left consumed by guilt after your first Games, you would've heard his plea and helped the rebellion from home, or he would've never told you about it at all to keep you safe. But that was wistful thinking, instead compassionate, worried, steadfast, beautiful you was in the grasp of the Capitol.

He decided he couldn't stay quiet any longer, he doesn't care if it's futile, what type of husband would leave his wife behind? For years you'd been fragile, like a bomb waiting to detonate, and he'd done whatever he could for you, he couldn't just give up on that now. You would have done it for him, you would have thrown yourself out of the hovercraft to save him, and knowing that hurt him and made him love you more. Finnick had spent years trying to prove to you that life was worth living even if you refused to admit that you felt that way, which in truth, caused him to grieve for the version of you from before the Games. The you that longed for a life that wasn't expected, to be lead by her heart and the wind, to be excited, until suddenly it was the you who didn't think she was worth being trusted, the you who stayed up wishing for death, and the you who wanted him, but felt guilty for it. Snow had taken that away from him, away from you, and now would take more from you. Finnick couldn't help but wonder how much was left to take, you had your compassion, your humor, your love, and if that was gone you'd be a husk of paranoia that he would desperately work to restore. Maybe death would have been kinder.

“Communications are down in seven, ten, and twelve. But eleven has control of transportation now, so there's hope of getting some food out." Plutarch says to Haymitch and Finnick can no longer be quiet.

"We have to go back.” His voice is hoarse, cracking with each syllable.

"I'm sorry, you know we can't do that. Her tracker was still in, they've definitely got her by now.” Plutarch tries to sound somewhat sympathetic, but it doesn't work.

“She's smart, she'll think of some way to pretend she knows less about the rebellion. If she can convince them of that, then she'll be used as bait.” Haymitch sounds so sure of himself, but Finnick isn't. You hadn't known too much, but not only were you willing to do anything if someone threatened him, you were like a glass sitting on the edge of the table, with one nudge you'd shatter.

Finnick starts shaking his head, “No, we have to-" Whatever plea he's started to make is interrupted as Katniss bangs through the door.

“Done knocking yourself out, sweetheart?" Haymitch focuses on Katniss, “So it's you and your syringe against the Capitol? See, this is why no one lets you make the plans." He's chuckling slightly, but only Plutarch would also want to laugh right now. “Drop it." He's forced Katniss to get rid of the syringe and sits down by Finnick, who's been infested with thoughts about how if he hadn't let Haymitch convince him of putting Katniss and Peeta first, he could've focused on you.

They're rambling an explanation of the rebellion to Katniss and Finnick is left once again wondering if he could hijack the ship. Snow probably wants him to, expects him too. You probably don't blame him, but Finnick knows your self-destructive ways. First, you'll try to find ways to end it all, and do nothing but mourn him, then you'll start to convince yourself maybe he left you on purpose, that you weren't stable or trustworthy enough to help with the rebellion, but you still wouldn't blame him, you'd tell yourself it's what you deserved. Finnick needed to be there to intercept the doubt before you ate yourself alive. Additionally, he didn't know how long he could last without you as an anchor, his sweet girl, refusing to acknowledge her own problems while trying to keep him afloat.

“I still don't understand why Peeta and I weren't let in on the plan." Katniss is saying, her voice just as broken as Finnick's had been.

“Because when the force field blew you'd be the first ones they'd try to capture, and, the less you knew, the better.” Haymitch explains.

"The first ones? Why?”

"For the same reason the rest of us agreed to die to keep you alive.” Finnick finally chimes in although he resents the words he's saying. He should've instead let you work your magic, try to convince someone to volunteer for him ahead of time, and stayed at home with you. If he stayed there was a higher chance you would too, yet maybe you would've gone over his head and decided you still couldn't live with yourself if you didn't volunteer.

"No, Johanna tried to kill me.” Katniss argues.

"Johanna knocked you out to take out the tracker from your arm and lead Brutus and Enobaria away from you.” Haymitch is seemingly getting exhausted and annoyed from all the explanations he owes her.

“What? I don't know what you're-"

Plutarch interrupts her, “We have to save you because you're the Mockingjay, Katniss. While you live, the revolution lives."

More words are mumbled and Finnick's head buzzes, it wasn't worth fighting the revolution if he couldn't do it with you. There was no way he could stomach it without your help, there's no way you would admit to it, but you kept him from drowning.

The way Katniss hisses at Haymitch helps Finnick zone back in, “Where is Peeta?" She's finally caught on, that her survival is without the person she loves safety.

“He was picked up by the Capitol along with Johanna, Enobaria, and-" Finnick hits the table interrupting Haymitch's train of thought. No one can be outraged at him for long though because Katniss has launched herself at Haymitch, screaming, and scratching, he's screaming back and Finnick is forced to leap into action. Katniss is only doing what he so desperately has been holding back on, how dare these people not understand that you had to be saved too. Yet he's dragging her off, back to her bed, to be tied down, sedated.

“Katniss. Katniss, I'm sorry. I wanted to save all of them, but I couldn't move." Finnick whispers, he doesn't know when he started crying, but he has. When the lighting hit the tree and Katniss' arrow had flown, the burst of electricity had left him helpless, frozen on the ground when he could hear you in the distance, screaming for him. “It's better for him, they'll figure out he doesn't know anything pretty fast. And they won't kill him if they can use him against you.

“Does she know too much or will she be used as bait, Finnick?" Katniss' voice is hazy in the mess of the sedation, but it's clear she's not very empathetic with her statement.

Finnick lets the tears take over him, weeping for you, how he couldn't save you. “I wish she were dead." He quietly admits, probably echoing something you'd agree with. "I wish they were all dead and we were too. It would be best.” Katniss is far gone, but Finnick can't stand his own thoughts any longer. He's basically begging to be sedated until they let him, he wants for it to stop the thoughts, leave him in a world where he's still with you. Even if you haunt his dreams.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

He knew of you, from school, from the similar social scenes, and you were well liked enough, but although he'd never admit it, Finnick Odair had never been confident enough to talk to you. Maybe it's because so many people spoke highly of you, but you'd never approached him. Shamefully he was a passive admirer, watching as you laughed at parties, nursed drunk friends, charmed customers at the markets. Maybe though he was scared that the person who everyone considered genuine would reject him as a person worth being around, see him the way he saw himself.

One sunny day in the market though he decided he had to take the step, see if were really the way people described you as, and possibly put to rest the infatuation he'd had for you. One that had really sparked when one of fair-weather friends, Beckett, had mentioned how you'd basically saved his life when he was drunk by a dock after another party. Kind, but brazen especially when Beckett tried to pay back the favor the next day by walking you home. Eventually the same night he told Finnick about you, he'd left to find you at the party and your magnetic company. You just seemed to draw people to you, a charm that Finnick couldn't resist much longer.

So there you were, flashing your tooth bearing smile to every potential customer. He'd talked to plenty of pretty girls before, but usually they introduced themselves to him, and the fact he barely existed to you certainly made you more intriguing. The moment the customer you were with was gone he forced himself up to your booth, one that was full of crates with huge crabs.

“Most of what the Capitol serves is from here anyways, so it's certainly not a downgrade." Your sweet, peachy voice spoke first and Finnick was somewhat taken aback, unintentionally sending you a quizzical look. “The crabs." You smiled, probably wondering why he didn't pick that up the first time.

“Oh, yes, of course, the crabs." He feigned interest in one, picking it up.

“You know, if you're not here for the crabs you better say something before I start listing off facts." Finnick decided he wouldn't mind that, your voice soothed his ears, but more importantly he'd been given a piece of who you were.

“Who says I'm not here to talk about crabs?" His natural playfulness shined through any persona he was scared he would have to put on if you weren't like he'd been told about, observed. For less then a second there was a flash of what must have been embarrassment in your eyes that quickly subsided with a shrug of your shoulders.

“They're caught in the-" Finnick couldn't stop himself from laughing when you diligently started on your promised list.

“No, please, you'll bore me to death. Guilty as charged, I'm not here to talk about crabs." He put down the crab he'd been holding, hands in the air.

You leaned on the counter, hands propping up your face, “Okay then, what are you here to talk about, Mr. Odair?"

“Finnick." He said almost too quickly for his liking, “Just wanted to talk to you." It was cocky the way he said it, but he couldn't help himself when you seemed so ready to bite back.

“Flattered, Finnick." You paused, like you were waiting for him to say something, “I'm working."

“And I'm a customer."

“Are you planning on buying anything?" Your hands moved from your face to the counter top.

“Maybe." He shrugged, his usual smug smile making its appearance.

You sighed like you were defeated, but your body language said otherwise. Maybe you'd wanted to talk to him just as much, but he'd been the one holding out on you. He'd like to think that even if it was presumptuous. “So, what does the Finnick Odair want to talk to me about?”

He didn't really know what he wanted to talk about, just that he wanted to talk to you. "The party, tomorrow night, are you coming?” It was a stupid question, you were at all of them, but much to his amusement you shrugged.

"Depends.”

"Depends on what?”

“Do you want me there?" You were bold and your aura exuded that even though if he stared deep enough into your eyes he could sense it hid other feelings.

“Are you flirting with me?" He clicked his tongue, head shaking as if it wasn't what he wanted.

“No."

“I don't believe you."

“Well it's your party, your house, I'm just asking permission." Your eyes widened, feigning innocence, and he decided you were nothing in short of perfect. Maybe he was just clouded because someone finally wasn't oooo’ing or ahhhh’ing at him. Or because he'd admired you from afar for so long that anything you said would be enough to draw him in. He also didn't really care because he'd made up his mind about liking your presence, more than that off any of his fickle friends.

“You've never asked permission before." The look on your face told him he'd caught you, that was your brain racking for a response before your face could slip back into its soft smile.

“You've never talked to me before." Maybe your words were even, but the way you fiddled with your necklace spoke measures to him.

“So you just show up at the houses of men you've never talked too?" Finnick teased, but he knew you'd always had plenty of invites from other people unlike the crazy fans who'd try to push their way into his home. Regardless, the parties were a way for him to keep up Capitol appearances and drown out his sorrows, so extra guests with actual connections to his social group hardly bothered him.

“If you wanted to talk to tell me it feels like I'm intruding, then you can just come out and say it. I get it and I won't go." You maintained a somewhat playful sound, but were so genuine it shocked him. So willing to give up your entire social scene if it made him slightly uncomfortable.

“No, I do want you there." He felt like he said it much too quickly, but he didn't regret it when your smile widened.

“Okay." You bit your bottom lip when another presence was ducking into the booth beside you. The local healer who whispered something to you. “You know you can have as many as you want for it, we can't thank you enough." You said earnestly. He handed you a couple of bottles of some type of medicine that you shoved into a netted bag before grabbing him a smaller box.

“Four or five?" The man said quietly and you filled the box with crabs before handing it to him. “Thank you, now you tell your mom I wished her the best and let me know how she's doing."

“Will do." You smiled as the man scurried off. “Sorry about that." Your attention was back on Finnick.

“Is your mom not well?" It was an obvious question but he wanted to show he cared, you just waved your hand in dismissal.

“She's okay, don't worry about it." So he respected the fact you didn't feel like opening up about it and moved onto playful banter again. “If you want me there and already knew I'd be there, why are you talking to me now?" You led the conversation back and it was obvious to him that it was a sore subject, perhaps you were one of those people who didn't like to trouble others with their problems.

“I can't talk to a pretty girl?”

"You talk to pretty girls all the time, Finnick Odair, and you've never talked to me before.” Your hands settled back up to support your face.

He leaned in closer, “Don't tell anyone, but maybe I needed to hype myself up before I talked to the prettiest one." Your laugh was addictive and he wished he could've seen more of how your face scrunched up when you buried it in your hands.

“God, you're treacherous." One of your hands decided to nervously play with an earring and the other went back to the necklace. “I bet that's what you tell all the pretty girls." Finnick's ears were blessed with another nervous laugh.

“Just you." He winked, grateful that he'd found an easy rhythm in talking to you. You were teasable, but would bite back, for the first time in a while he was glad he trusted his observations.

“You know flirting with the girl at the market to get free food only works for people not famous all across Panem."

“Good thing that's not why I'm flirting with the girl at the market then."

Your face was once again buried in your hands with a giggle, "You're dreadful. Is this how you usually entrap a girl, don't speak to her, and then it's all sweet talk?”

Finnick wished he could say it's because seeing you around gave him unexplainable butterflies deep within his stomach, but that wasn't a very suave explanation. “I had to make sure you didn't have a boyfriend first.” His voice was low and he could tell it was giving you goosebumps, or maybe you were just cold in your sundress.

"Oh, you're bold." You guffawed, “Besides you already have a hole in your story, there isn't a single person anyone would think I'm dating.”

"That's a bold-faced lie, sweet girl, most people think you do since he's always trailing around like a lost puppy.” If he was lucky you would melt at the pet name and you somewhat did before you scoffed.

"Who?" You didn't seem like the oblivious type, but so earnestly confused.

Finnick's eyes dragged over to a nearby booth where the subject stood, sulking and your eyes followed, “Looks like he might attack."

“Conway?" You shook your head so earnestly it made Finnick feel like he could blush from how ardently you wanted him to know you weren't taken. “No, no, no, no! God, no, he's just my friend. We're friends.”

"Have you told him that?” He smirked.

You were so cute, when you were biting back, when you were nervous, when you were embarrassed, he didn't know how a person could manage to be so adorable all the time. “Yes, he knows that, he's just, well he's just Conway. It's just a phase, he'll grow out of it." You rubbed your neck as a much more forced laugh escaped those perfect lips.

“Hopefully, looks like he's coming over to rip my throat out. Please come to my funeral, front row, no roses on the coffin, lilies preferably." Finnick pulled a faux terrified face as he clasped his hands together with his plea, successfully turning your laugh into a much more genuine one.

“Hi, Princess." Conway approached the booth and Finnick wondered how you could ever think he was getting over you. Behind the brunette's back he shot you a look, teasing you for as much which you seemed to instantly understand as you bit your lip with a shrug.

"Hey, Conway. You guys finished up?" You asked, that dazzling smile on your face.

“Yeah, mom was wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner tonight? Nixie and Delta had something they were excited to show you.”

“Yes of course! Tell them I have something for them too, and I'll meet you guys after I've dropped everything off at home."

“I'll walk you."

“I'm gonna walk her home." Finnick seized the opportunity, even if you said you were just friends he couldn't let himself lose the build up he was working for. Conway looked at him like he'd forgotten he was there and was angered to have remembered. “If you want me to, do you want me to?" Finnick looked back at you and you genuinely had a look of complete confusion.

"I always walk you home.” Conway said softly and Finnick wished he felt worse for interfering with another person's love, but he couldn't help that he felt a spark just by looking at you and fireworks in your presence.

"You wanna walk me home?” Your eyes were glued on Finnick, like you thought he'd just been bored and was going to leave after finding his enjoyment in flirting with you. He wanted to get inside your head, see why you were so vulnerable, prove to you that you deserved to feel better about yourself.

"Of course I do, sweet girl.” His voice was less focused on being charming and so earnest it rewarded him with the happiest, biggest smile he'd gotten out of you.

“I'll walk you home after dinner though, that way you're not walking home alone in the dark." Conway inserted himself once again and after a pause you shook yourself out of whatever haze you were in to turn to him.

“Thank you so much, you're so kind, Conway. Either way I still have to wait until everything closes or I sell out, so it could be a while."

“Oh, mom sent me over to buy the last half crate for dinner tomorrow,we've got some extra wiggle room, and we're all tired of trout and crawfish all the time. So a little something special until I'm sure we'll all get tired of the leftovers. Do you want to come tomorrow too?" He pulled out the money from his pocket to slip into your hand.

“Lucky you, I hope you all enjoy it!" You took the money to put into the small metal box where you must have been storing the cash. “I've got plans tomorrow or else I definitely would." You picked up a box to move the crabs into.

“Is there a party? You should've told me, mom won't want me to miss tomorrow and you'll have no one with you."

“Conway, as much as I appreciate the sentiment, I don't need to be watched over. I'm perfectly capable of myself." You handed him the crate, “Besides you hate going to them and I don't want to drag you to one just for you to mope in the corner."

“And I'll be there anyways." Finnick raised his hand as if to remind everyone he was still there and you did seem to soften when you looked at him.

“Yeah, Finnick, will be there. I'll be fine!"

Conway took a step closer to you as he filled his box, trying to whisper, but it wasn't hard for Finnick to eavesdrop. "You barely know him.”

You glared back at Conway and mouthed a ‘Stop it!" The much taller man seemed to reluctantly relent as he stepped away. “I just have to close everything up then, and I'll be ready to go." You look back at Finnick who nods and smiles.

“Let me help you."

“Oh no, you don't have to do that!" You quickly assure.

"Angel, I want to.” You seem to respond well to that pet name as well whereas Conway is instantly glaring into Finnick's head. He doesn't mean to be cocky, but Finnick can't resist a cocky shrug to the other man the moment you're going to retrieve your bag and the little metal container of money to shove into it. Finnick’s nimble fingers are quickly undoing the ropes holding the top up.

You exit the structure and walk up to him, “How'd you do that so fast, the knots always take me forever to undo."

Finnick can't hide his amusement with your awe,"Always been good with knots, I could show you sometime.”

You're nodding in agreement when suddenly your mouth is agape and you're playfully shoving him, “Finnick Odair, I hardly know you!"

“That's not what I meant, honestly!" He defends, laughing, and he's being truthful. It hadn't crossed his mind when he said it, he would love to show you how to tie a rope, he'd always found it calming. “Says a lot that your mind jumped to that though." He tilts his head and the way your eyes widen makes him wish he could feel how hot your face must be by now.

“You do barely know him." Conway mutters and Finnick wishes he would disappear.

You seem to regain your composure and point to the left, “I'm about 30 minutes that way, so you really don't have to walk me home if you don't want to, it's long."

“Stop worrying about me, I'm certain I want to walk you home."

You're nodding softly and biting your bottom lip, "Okay.” Swiftly you're leading the way, both men trailing behind and Finnick is annoyed that Conway is still sticking around, before he realizes his family's booth is in that direction. Suddenly you're stopping before basically leaping towards a booth, a fruit booth Finnick recognizes. “Douglas, you have peaches! Why didn't you say anything?"

The older man chuckles and gives you a knowing look, “Because you can't afford them and will barter me for them."

You gasp in mock offense, “So rude and after all this time too, Mrs. Damaris would be astounded by your behavior.”

"You know if you sneak me a couple of crabs tomorrow I'd give you a whole bag.”

"Your father would be angry-” Conway begins some sort of lecture when you're snapping at him like you'd also like to be rid of his presence.

"I know, Conway.” The look you shoot at him could kill, and Finnick feels a weird sense of elation knowing you're more peeved that Conway won't let you be alone with Finnick.

“Then I'm sorry, sweetheart, nothing's going to work on me this time. I've prepared myself."

Finnick is already pulling out his money, “It's okay, I've got it."

“No." Your resistance shocks him, he's used to people begging to be around his wealth and to charm you he's more than willing to she'll it out. “You're not buying things for me, Finnick. I'm serious." He says nothing, but doesn't return his money back to his pocket.

“Come on, princess, you'll live without one." Conway manages to still sound so kind and you purse your lips, refusing to satisfy the man you feel pestered by with a response. Finnick is busy trying to silently communicate with the vendor that whatever you try to barter he'll give him the money right after.

“My ring?" You hold up your hand, waving the finger around and the older man shakes his head.

“I can't accept every piece of jewelry you find on the beach."

You sigh dramatically and Finnick thinks he's finally been able to indicate to the vendor. “Mrs. Damaris would love this necklace, look it's got an actual ruby in it and I didn't find it. Someone gave it to me, it's worth a lot more than a peach and I only want one.” The man reluctantly exhales, glasses at the end of his nose, “Please Douglas, we barely ever get them here.” Your pout has to make you even more adorable and Finnick wonders how you can be so perfect.

“Fine!" The man grumbles with a sly smile and Finnick can tell the man would've taken the necklace even without the money he was about to give.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You gush as your fingers rush, struggling as you unclasp the necklace. Putting the necklace on the counter as the man hums. You take your time picking out the perfect peach before grabbing one, “I love you so much, Douglas, Mrs. Damaris is a lucky woman!" You began to walk off.

Douglas nods, “Sure she is, take care of yourself and bring some actual money next time." The moment your back is turned Finnick is putting the money on the table, with a little extra.

“Thank you." He mouths with a smile, grabbing the necklace.

“No, thank you. I've got no use for the necklace, or anything else she's given." The old man is shaking his head with a smile, grabbing the money. “You take care."

Finnick nods, catching up to you where he can hear another tense conversation between you and Conway. “God Conway, it doesn't matter. Tallulah gets me a gift every time I take care of her during a hangover because she feels bad, it doesn't matter. Yes it was pretty and I really liked it, but I'll tell her it fell off in the ocean and she'll buy me a new one.”

"You're just so careless sometimes, it's a fruit.” Conway shakes his head in disbelief.

"And it's just a necklace, what's your problem? It's not even from you, and it's not a big deal. I liked it, I'll probably miss it, but I might not have a peach for another year and Tallulah will have given me another gift by the end of the week for the hangover she'll definitely have from tomorrow night.”

"She's not a bank for you, and that trade was so uneven.”

"Why are you trying to make me feel guilty? That's not how I see her, I've been her friend for years and it's just how we work! You're being so weird about this and it's none of your business. I don't take her money, or ask for it, or let her pay for things, she just gives me them when I help her out!” Finnick finds himself being enraged at Conway for the way your voice shakes as you defend yourself, for the way he's making you seem selfish when you adamantly refused to let Finnick buy you something as small as a piece of fruit.

Finnick is suddenly standing beside you holding up the little heart necklace, it swinging in front of your face. You stop dead in your tracks, “Finnick." Your voice is so soft it makes him want to melt, "You don't even know me, Finnick. I don't need you to buy things for me, you don't have to do that. I traded it for a reason, go give it back.”

"He's much happier with the money, anyways, sweet girl. I have enough money to drown in, you're hardly breaking the bank with a peach. And I know you enough to want to do that for you. Can't a man buy things for a pretty girl?” You look like you might cry, but you don't allow yourself too and Finnick comes to the conclusion that you're not used to being helped, to have someone willing to just do things for you without some sort of transaction involved, and he's intent on changing that. "Red looks good on you, angel, let me put it back on you.” You're playing with your earrings as you finally slowly turn to let him clasp the necklace on. He adored the way you shiver when his fingers brush against your neck as he puts it on and the way you seem to miss his touch the moment it's gone. It's like fate designed the two of you to meet each other, to be perfect for one another and he's only just forced himself to talk to you.

He also gets a sick pleasure from how vexed it makes the other man vying for your affections. Within a few more steps you've arrived at the Delmare family booth and they're ecstatic to see you before they've calmed down. “I'll see you tonight?" Conway asks.

“Yes, of course." You offer a smile even though Finnick can tell you're still seething underneath and Conway nods somewhat sadly. You turn you back to him as keep walking, “So are you-"

“Yes, I'm sure I want to walk you home!" Finnick interrupts with a laugh and you accept the answer and finally begin to eat your peach. “Let me take your bag." He offers, hand reaching for it.

"It's okay I've got it.” You must have decided you're able to slip back into your normal playful tone, and he curses Conway in his mind for making you anxious enough to ever stop in the first place, “I know you must be used to women throwing themselves at your feet, but we are in fact strong enough to carry our own bags."

“You have an indent in your shoulder from it." He remarks, with what he's sure must be an infuriatingly smug smirk. You don't look at him as you seem to reason in your head that it is quite heavy and slowly pry it off your shoulder. He's grabbing it from your hand before you're even reaching out and although it's nothing for him, he's surprised by the weight. “Good thing I want to carry your bag even if you're a woman throwing yourself at my feet." He clicks his tongue as the two of you stroll down the cobblestone street.

You elbow him softly, “I'd say you're throwing yourself at mine."

“I'd agree and say I'm glad I am."

“Finnick." Your voice is suddenly much more serious.

“Yes, angel?"

“Seriously, why are you talking to me?" He assumes you must be trying to protect yourself and it hurts him to think you'd ever imagine that his intentions were anything less than true.

“Because I like you."

You laugh so delicately it could be carried into the breeze, “No you don't! We've never talked before, I mean you don't really know me at all."

“So you don't like me?" He teases, a glimmer in his eyes.

“No, I do, I mean, I just, that's different." You stutter through it, hands moving as you speak.

“How's it different?"

“Because you're you, you're Finnick Odair, everyone likes you and if they don't they're stupid. And I'm just, I mean I'm just some girl, who you've been trying to fluster."

“People talk about you too, I see you around, listen to you, what you say, what people say about you, and I've decided that I like you. And I think that if you didn't want to be flustered, you'd tell me. That's it, that's the explanation, and I'm talking to you so I can really know you.”

There's a silence where you must be deciding if you're satisfied with his answer, "What do you want to know about me?” The walk to your house seems to go by too fast with the stories and banter, the way you sass him back and then get ruffled when he makes flirty remarks before you make them back, and the way you savor each bite of that peach like you'll never have one again, which he'll make sure you will. He's already mourning your company when you're walking up to the door, “This is me, I know, it's not much to look at." It's a dilapidated little house, cracked, white brick and he can tell it used to be nice. You're slowly walking up to the door and he hopes you feel the same way he does.

"Go out with me tomorrow.” Finnick says abruptly.

"What?” You turn to him, trying to not act as giddy as he can tell you are.

"Tomorrow, just you and me, an actual date. It's a Sunday, so the market will be closed. We can picnic by the water, there's a lovely, private piece of beach in Victor's Village and we'll swim, we can do whatever else you want too.” He tries to sound nonchalant as he runs his hands through his hair.

"Okay.” You nodded, fingers running up and down the chain on your necklace. "Yes, I'd like that.”

"Okay, good, that's good.” He doesn't mean to seem desperate for your time, but he is. “I can be here at noon? I'll walk you."

“Yeah." You muttered, by now you're both standing at your front door. Staring at him and he prays you'll never go inside and just stand here with him. “My bag."

“Sorry, yes, your bag!" He pulls it off his shoulder and feels more embarrassed than he ought to be, “Sorry!" But you just laugh it off as he hands it to you.

"It's okay.” You're back is to the door, slowly pushing the handle. He wants to kiss you, but he's already moving so fast with everything else, he figures that he better let you have something to wait for even if it's disappointing to you know, it disappoints him too.

"I'll see you tomorrow, at 12.” He reiterates, feeling like a magnet being pushed away from his other half as he steps away, ready to fly back forward.

You do look somewhat let down as he moves away, but he has to be resilient,"Thank you, Finnick! Have a good night.”

"Have a good night, sweet girl!” He flashes his Panem adored smile and forces himself to turn his back towards you. Finnick decides he's glad he listened to the caverns of his soul when they called him to you. He can't help himself from being so forward with you when he's already so sure, like he's been with no one before, that you must be meant to be and he's running back to the marketplace praying that Douglas hadn't yet closed down shop.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Doctors occasionally hover above him and the ceiling is white, which is all he knows when he's in his sedated state. Sometimes they let him be without, but he can't process their questions, not when he's thinking of you which sometimes leads him back to being sedated when he starts lashing out at the nurses and doctors. Screaming, insisting you need to be saved. He's not sure when he asked, but at some point they give him a piece of rope which he diligently ties knots in to calm himself. It always seemed to work until he thought about how hard he tried to help you master different knots, but your hands would fumble. At some point he'd become sure that you did it on purpose so that his fingers would be by yours and his back pressed up against you, but he didn't care, it was heartwarming. Then he would fly into a fit again.

The same thing had happened when they'd brought him some type of dry oatmeal usually with a mix of berries that made it barely tolerable, once he could've sworn he caught a whiff of peaches in it that had him desperately trying to inhale the scent. Sobbing over the bowl until his nose was so stuffed he could no longer smell it, smell you and the sobbing became too uncontrollable. The doctors couldn't calm him down and he was once again sedated.

For weeks that's all his life was. Haunted by you, what could be happening to you, all the things he missed about you and trying to stay calm enough that he wasn't being restrained or returned to a cloudy state. Although the sedation sometimes brought back good memories he could dissociate into, other times all he could picture were all the things the Capitol, that Snow could be doing to you.

What if you were still being sold off like some kind of doll on top of what you were having to endure. And you'd have no one to comfort you at the end of the day which would drive you to insanity. Or he could picture you hypothermic on the floor. Or being taunted with jabberjays screaming in his voice. Or it could be a violent torture. He could picture thousands of unpleasant things that made him wish the rope was long enough to be a noose.

Sometimes he'd picture the last time he saw you, begging with him to not be upset when you parted ways with Katniss' insistence. Each time he thought about it he'd come to a different conclusion. Most of the time he blamed himself for letting you go, for not fighting harder to stay together or not tearing out your tracker right before you left even if it alerted someone of the plan. Sometimes he'd blame Katniss for forcing your hand in the first place, why couldn't she have just followed the plan that had been so carefully structured out. And on a rare occasion he blamed you for trying to follow the objective of keeping Katniss safe and leaving him, for not remembering to take out the tracker, for not keeping your promise. Which would then make him sick with himself for thinking anything slightly negative about your actions when you were probably enduring unbearable lengths of pain for him, for the rebellion.

On the lucky occasion where he wasn't heavily sedated he'd been anxiously tying small knots into the rope when the television began playing some mandated report from the Capitol and there was Peeta. Proclaiming how he and Katniss knew nothing about the rebel plan, that Katniss had coincidentally shot her arrow into the dome when the lighting struck, and how there needed to be a ceasefire. Finnick wished he hadn't told you about the rebel plan, that you would just be bait, not someone trying to hide that they had some semblance of information regarding the rebel plan to get out of the arena. He'd signed your death warrant and delivered it straight into the Capitol's cold hands.

Finnick got swept up in his thoughts of what he could've done differently, how much he despised himself for not doing so when suddenly it was your voice on that television screen.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

so exited to start the river with you guys and to explore reader and finnick's past more. thank you all so much for the endless support and for continuing to read my little series, ily all. as always reblogs, comments, and likes are super appreciated, and my ask box plus request are open even if they take a hot second more me to get through. again endless thanks to you all and love you 💋

taglist: @coriolanussnowswife @avoxrising @artsyaquarium @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @secretsicanthideanymore @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts @thatonegayloser616 @libertyybellls @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @ravensinthedaylight @innercreationflower @uhnanix @aesthetic0cherryblossom @yourdailymemedelivery @ang3lflor @maxinehufflepuffprincess @prettybiching @miserablebl00d @wowzabowza69 @nomorespahgetti @problematicpastries @abaker74 @nj01 @whens-naptime @sarcasticbooknerd12 @cakes-hq @honethatty12 @s1lngwns @alliex-o

#wanda 💋#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair angst #finnick odair x reader fluff #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x reader angst #thg #the lakes #the river #finnick odair fanfic #finnick x you #finnick fanfic #finnick x reader #finnick odair imagine #finnick imagine

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moonlight-prose · 5 months

Note

11 with Poe? 🥺 💞

𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

a/n: this prompt with poe is so soft and warm it's actually melting my heart. i'm a massive sucker for someone taking care of the person they love in such a simple way like this. it's short and more of a drabble, but i really enjoyed bringing some softness to this man. i always seem to put him in angsty situations, so he deserves this.

summary: "he was with you. the person he longed to be around. who’s smile made him smile, and who’s laugh made him laugh. rather than looking for a quick escape, he found himself hoping that the mission would take even longer."

word count: 1k+

pairing: poe dameron x reader

warnings: not explicit, soft poe, flirting, fluffiness, poe dameron being hopelessly head over heels.

Squinting against the bright light of the sun, you traversed your way through the field, trying to catch up to the group ahead. It was a simple mission. Head out to a planet, find whoever was willing to trade shitty x-wing parts for something far better, and get back before dinner. Really it was more a quick vacation than anything else—a chance to get away from the chaos that your lives had become.

Poe shifted, checking to see exactly where you both had ended up in the hour you’d been walking. It’s not that you were lost. You were simply exploring. Or at least…that’s how Poe put it. You however had been keeping track of the different paths you’d taken, making sure to mark on your map where exactly you had to backtrack to get where you needed.

He sighed for the tenth time, scrubbing a hand down his face, his brows pulling together with frustration. It was clear that getting back to base before dinner wasn’t a possibility. Which meant you would have to find a place here amidst the greenery and gorgeous landscape.

You didn’t mind the idea much. However you couldn’t necessarily say the same for Poe.

“So where exactly are we?” you asked, trying to comprehend the bits and pieces of the foreign language. Growing up in the galaxy meant you knew more than your fair share, but sometimes it was hard to learn it all.

“Who the fuck knows,” he muttered, turning to look at yet another green hill. It looked identical to the last five you passed.

“It’s getting late.”

He nodded. “Think we can make it back to the ship tonight?”

There was a possibility of that happening if you turned back now, but you could see the sun begin its descent into the horizon, the day coming quickly to a close. The planet was known for housing less than lethal life forms, which made the idea of camping outside that much more appealing. You slept in a tiny bunk back at the base. Barely enough room to stretch out your legs before you hit the wall beside you—the open space around you felt like a damn gift compared to that.

“We should find a closed off area,” you suggested, remembering the many times you were forced to sleep outside whilst on a mission.

“Lead the way.”

He traipsed along behind you, eyes stuck to your surroundings in case of danger, and you didn’t do anything to interfere. You understood he wouldn’t feel safe sleeping on an unknown planet unless he was sure nothing bad was to happen. If he was alone he wouldn’t take precautions. But that was the difference. You stood beside him, untarnished by the tragedy of war. Beautiful like the summer flowers his mother used to pick on Yavin 4.

“The map says it shouldn’t be that much father,” you said in the hopes that it would offer some reprieve from how disappointing this whole mission was.

“That’s fine,” he mumbled, catching a glimpse of how the sunset enshrouded your face, creating a glow across you that nearly punched the breath from his lungs.

If he were with anyone else on this mission he would have been irritated. Beyond that probably. He could have seen himself trying to contact Leia from where you were, asking for a transport back, but he wasn’t with anyone else. He was with you. The person he longed to be around. Who’s smile made him smile, and who’s laugh made him laugh. Rather than looking for a quick escape, he found himself hoping that the mission would take even longer.

“I’m sorry about all this.” Poe felt his heart begin to sink, matching the movement of the sun. “I know it’s taking too much time. I swear I thought I read the map right.”

His pace faltered until he found himself stopping altogether, hand reaching for your arm to turn you. “Why are you apologizing?”

You sighed. “I just…I know how irritating all of this can be.”

“Sunshine—”

“And I know you have other important things to do for the Resistance.” You turned, running a hand across your forehead. “I could have asked Finn to come with me instead. Or anyone else. But I…I like…”

Poe stepped forward so quickly his boot nearly got caught on a small hole in the ground. “You like?”

Another long breath left you, eyes shifting up to finally catch him in your gaze. “I like your company.”

He felt the start of a smirk and tried to tamp it down, but there was no use. “My company huh?”

“Don’t get cocky flyboy. You’re not the worst person to be around.”

He was way past cocky at that point. Your words filled him with a warmth that sent his heart racing so hard it nearly stopped altogether. But you looked nervous. As if the words had been bottled up for so long you felt wary about heaven bringing them out into the open. You were unprepared for his smile, for his hand to reach out and pick a piece of grass out of your hair, only to use that to drag you even closer.

“I know I’m not,” he said softly, grunting when you lightly punched him in the chest. “Just been waiting for you to say it out loud.”

“You’re such a pain in the ass—” Tugging yourself away, you were ready to throw another meaningless curse at him, but Poe had solidified his plans long before you began to admit your feelings.

His lips caught yours in a kiss, effectively silencing you and stopping your movements. You felt a rush of dizziness go up to your head, a soft sound of contentment falling from your mouth into his. And Poe felt his entire being light up. Pulling you closer, he clutched at you tightly, hands sliding to your back and breath washing across your face.

“I’m glad I’m here with you,” he breathed against your cheek, nose nudging against yours—waiting eagerly for you to smile and pulling him back into a searing kiss he longed to drown in.

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron x you #poe dameron fluff #poe dameron #star wars fic #my writing #in love with love weekend🌷

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azsazz · 4 months

Text

Dead by Dawn (Part 15)

Azriel x Cassian x Reader

Summary: Zombie!AU: It’s been a while since the end of the world.

Warnings: Blood, gore, injury, graphic depictions of violence, poly!relationship, slow burn, undead, death, mentions of cannibalism, SMUTTT

Word Count: 2,421

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14)

Notes: okay, I’ve missed this one. It hits. (3/6 of 6 updates for 6k 💙)

_________________________________________

Day 195

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You’re beginning to really hate the decision to leave.

Not only because of the three walkers you’ve seen, all with missing jaws, but there’s a niggling in the back of your mind, screaming at you about Feyre and Rhys. You shouldn’t have left the house, no matter how harrowing the sight you, Cassian, and Azriel had stumbled upon was.

Cassian and Azriel, the two men who have been taking care of you since. The former had stayed up all night smoking the deer meat over the fire until it was nothing but smolders and a carcass left. You had intended to stay up with him until he was finished but Azriel had pulled you between his legs and all but forced you to lean against him with your head on his chest.

“Sleep,” he’d demanded gruffly, but his fingers brushing the hem of your t-shirt to find your skin were soft, soothing as he traced patterns. His lips were warm against your forehead, his breaths even and strong against your back that had lulled you into sleep in a matter of moments.

You’d been woken up by gentle strokes, the moon high in the sky. Both men had decided that you’d need to move campsites in case any zombies or wild animals were attracted to the carcass. The three of you stumbled through the woods, sticking close to each other. You’d quieted at the soft sound of a creek trickling through the brush and you’d been able to fill your canteens before Cassian washed the blood from his hands and forearms.

By the time the sun had washed its yellow rays upon the sky, you had found your way back to the main strip of highway and have been following it since. The little sleep that Azriel forced you to get had helped a little, but the anxiety rushing through your body at the thought of Feyre and Rhysand out here alone keeps you wired and focused only on made up scenarios of what could have gone wrong.

Had they made it back to the van? Had they tried to come back to the house only to find the letter Azriel had left them? Had they taken the warning and found gas, drove up the road until they’d seen the Eryef signs her sisters had left her?

“Stop overthinking, sweetheart,” Cassian breaks the silence. He wraps an arm around your shoulder swiping his thumb across the crease in your brows. “We’ll find them.”

“You don’t know that,” you huff, wringing your fingers together. Azriel peers over his shoulder from where he’s scouting ahead, stopping in his tracks until the both of you catch up. You can’t look at either man right now. If it weren’t for you, you’d probably all be back together as a group, or at least waiting safely back at the house of horrors. “We shouldn’t have left them.”

Azriel pulls you straight into his arms and Cassian closes the pack by pressing his firm body against your back. You’re enveloped by arms and warmth, soaking in both of their confidence that both Feyre and Rhysand are safe and to keep moving is the correct decision for your group of three.

You’re still not quite used to this side of Azriel. How he’s more open to you than before, like it’s been just as much of a struggle to keep away from you as it has been for you. He’s no longer afraid to pull you into his side or chest or arms should he sense your overworking mind. You’re much like him in that way, always playing out every scenario before anything happens. It’s a hard habit to break, one that has gotten him this far, saved his ass more than once, and by the Mother he’ll do whatever he needs to to make sure you find them.

“Feyre is safe with Rhys, and he is safe with her,” Azriel starts, planting his palms on either side of your cheeks. The marred skin is soft against your cheeks and he tilts your chin up so you’re forced to look in his eyes. The gold in them is stern, as are his following words. “We’re going to see what this Eryef is all about because that’s where they’ll go when they see the signs. We’re going to meet them there and all will be alright.”

“Well, as alright as things can be with the apocalypse and all,” Cassian adds, nuzzling his nose into the juncture of your jaw. The brush of his lips makes you want to laugh, but you’re frozen beneath Azriel’s stare.

“Okay?” he asks you, and he tries to ignore the way that Cassian’s kissing down your neck, running his hands from your hips up your sides. He tries to ignore the way your fingers clutch to the hem of his shirt in response, and the way that your lids flutter. He steps into you and you can feel their stiff cocks pressing into you from front and back. The air is shoved from your lungs the closer they lean. “We’re worrying about us first. We can’t help them if we can’t help ourselves, first. We need to stay level headed, right?”

His lips slanting against yours are all too convincing of that.

“Right?” he asks against your mouth, and you nod, gasping when Cassian’s fingers dip into the waistband of your pants. You grind your hips, drawing delicious moans from both men.

“Right,” you whine, fingers raking down Azriel’s chest. You need them, both of them right now, even in the middle of the fucking forest in the middle of nowhere. You don’t fucking care. “Need you both.”

“If we’re giving her what she needs,” Cassian says, leaning over you to caress Azriel’s jaw. He tucks his thumb and is tipping his chin back, gold eyes clashing with hazel. It makes Azriel’s throat bob and from your vantage point you want to crane your neck and lick over it. “Then we can’t deny her this, Azzy.”

He hums languidly but it chokes off when you press onto your toes to lap across the skin of his throat. It’s salty, musky, and his fingers on your hips tighten. It makes your legs clench together and your cunt drip with want.

“We shouldn’t,” Azriel groans because Gods does he want to. But he’s feeling too exposed out here like this, all tangled up with his lovers. It muddies his mind and if you’re all too preoccupied with the taste of each other, he worries you’ll attract walkers. “Not enough protection.”

“Don’t have any condoms,” Cassian mumbles against Azriel’s mouth.

“From walkers,” Azriel growls, biting at Cassian’s lips. It’s meant as a warning but all it does is make Azriel’s cock jump at the thought of your tight heat milking him dry. He wants to fill you up, watch Cassian fuck his way into you until you’re a moaning mess, leaking their seed.

He’s right, though. You shouldn’t be doing what you’re doing even now. Anyone could be near hearing the three of you fooling around, dead or alive. It’s a dangerous situation that lust is trying to paint its way over, and no matter how badly you need to feel the press of their bodies against yours again, you need to be careful about it.

“I’m going to find you both a house,” Cassian says gruffly, disappointment lacing his heady tone. He brushes Azriel’s hair back with one hand, and with the other he’s holding you tightly. “One with a fence and room big enough for a garden. We’re going to find a place for Feyre and Rhys nearby, but not so close that they hear me fucking the both of you all day and all night.”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head at his words. He says them like he means them, like this is going to happen, and you can admit that it sounds like heaven. Spending the rest of your days with the two of them, always together, never lonely.

“‘M gonna take care of you both,” he continues, tone going soft with promise. Both you and Azriel lean into him, cradling him close. Your stomach twists a little at the thought that passes through your mind like a shooting star. “We’re going to be okay.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“Only a few more miles,” Azriel says sometime later, when you’re taking a break. You’re munching on some of the meat Cassian had stowed away last night. You’d all been very lucky with that kill. Animals lurking the woods are a lot less common as they were at the beginning of the apocalypse, with all of the roaming zombies hungry for flesh and blood. They’ll take a bite out of anything with a pulse.

The meat is chewy and bland, but it’s better than most things you’ve eaten since the world ended. There was once when you and Feyre had to force down handfuls of flowers to ease the hunger pains contorting your bodies, but they hadn’t tasted as good as they smelled, but they’d kept you alive.

“We should be there by nightfall, I reckon.”

You nod, forcing yourself to swallow. You’re not complaining, but your throat protests around the chewed meat, dry as it scrapes down your windpipe. Coughing, you try to dislodge it, and Cassian hands you his canteen to wash it down with. You beam gratefully at him.

“Do you think anyone will be there?” You ask, examining the jerky. “What do you think we’ll find?”

Azriel sighs as he thinks, leaning back against the tree behind him. His gold eyes scour the woods surrounding you. When they pass over your body and they rove down, drinking you in, then does he answer. “Hopefully we can at least find shelter.”

You clench your thighs together. Clearly, he hasn’t forgotten about earlier when the three of you had been pressed so tightly together you were nearly one. Cassian shifts too and you can see the slight tenting of his jeans. Goosebumps awaken on your flesh as his bare arm brushes yours.

You’re about to speak but a twig snapping draws all of your attention, freezing in your spots.

You shove the rest of the meat into your mouth because by the Mother you will not waste it. Your body is tight with anticipation, and you draw your blade silently from your belt, preparing for the worst.

You peek a glance at Cassian, who shrugs a little. His hazel eyes are sharp, but he can’t see anything any more than you can. He sends a questioning glance over to Azriel, who silently shakes his head. He can’t see anything either.

The unmistakable groan of a walker sounds in the distance and your spine goes straight. It’s about time you’ve seen one. It’s been much too quiet as of late, and you pray to any God that will listen that it’s not a horde.

Slowly, you follow Cassian’s lead to stand. He offers you a hand and you move as silently as you can. Azriel’s already on his feet and moved closer to you. You hadn’t noticed how quickly and quietly he can be when he wants to.

You’re kind of envious.

Slinging your backpack over your shoulders, both men cover you while you work it into place until your knife is back up at the ready.

“C’mon you filthy vermin,” a voice cuts through the woods, not caring how loud they are. It carries through the trees easily, like an open field, though you still can’t see anything. “Just a few more steps.”

It’s a low voice, but unmistakably a woman’s. She sounds agitated as well, especially when the male voice that follows is nothing but a sweet, teasing trap. “Ease up, fawn. We have all day.”

“We don’t,” she disagrees. “Elain will wake soon and if something happens,” her voice pitches higher in distress and the male’s one turns soothing.

“Her condition hasn’t changed in months, Nes. She’ll hold on another day.”

You exchange glances with Cassian and Azriel but the confusion painting their faces is the same as that of yours. What the hell are they talking about?

The sound of a zombie groaning breaks them apart. The woman spits curses at it and her male counterpart chuckles. Cassian presses closer when the voices trail your way.

“All in good time, fawn,” the man says again and he’s back to calling her that nickname.

“It’s not my fault that they’re so damn stupid. I swear, it’s like being at University all over again.”

You hold your breath as he laughs and she huffs.

There’s a loud snap, the sound of something crunching nearby. It’s a little too close for any of your liking, and when the two of them step around a large oak, finally in your line of vision, they halt.

You watch the smiles slip from their faces, their eyes going hard. Their hands are tangled together but they rip apart as they reach for their weapons.

You, Azriel, and Cassian raise yours in defense, but no one moves.

The man’s auburn eyes blaze over the three of you, calculating. His features are sharper than the blade in your hand, eyes hard like he could light you on fire with a single look. His copper hair is finger rifled, tousled on the top of his head, but the unruly look works on him. You wonder if the smattering of freckles dusting his cheeks and the bridge of his nose are marks of all of his kills.

The woman beside him, however, somehow looks even more menacing. The hard lines around her mouth must be from frowning most of her life, much like she is now. Her dirty golden-brown hair is braided back from her face in two long plaits. There’s a bow strapped across her back, and you’re lucky that the three of you caught her whilst she was distracted.

She looks familiar, though, so familiar that it only takes you a moment to place her until you’re dropping your arm and stepping forward, ignoring how Azriel and Cassian grab for you.

The girl’s gray-blue eyes are sharp, deadly even. Her knife is curved and razor-edged, dark blood from her latest kill dripping off of the tip. She doesn’t look like she’s willing to extend any pleasantries in the slightest, but if the next three words out of your mouth don’t stop her from killing the three of you, then maybe you deserve it.

“You’re Feyre’s sister.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

DBD Taglist: @writingsbychlo @kemillyfreitas @5moremin @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @waggel36 @bionic-donut @que-serasera @applepie02 @azrielsbabyg @arcadianmoonlight @pradaxstyles @illyrian-dreamer @reiincarnatiion @fuckthatfeeling @shadowsingersmate24 @poppyalice2001 @fall-myriad @sstrohma @tcris2020@jeannineee @21stcenturytaegi@ochiolism @secretly-here @harrystylesfan2686 @i-am-infinite

#acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel x reader #cassian x reader #azriel x cassian x reader #dead by dawn #acotar zombie au #zombie au #acotar au

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personasintro · 8 months

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Mutual Help | #09

𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭: @kithtaehyung

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mature content

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢

"I'm telling you. He knows." you tell your best friend, placing the cup of coffee in front of him with a thud.

You've spent a good hour, overthinking and replaying the date the same night you went to sleep. It happened three days ago, and you still find yourself thinking about Hoseok's suspicious eyes that affected you more than you would've ever thought. It's only right to voice out your thoughts with Jungkook and that's what you've been doing for the past ten minutes.

But the guy is completely careless, browsing through his huge camera to observe the photos he's taken.

"Yeah, well. Your acting is terrible." he mutters, tilting his head as he tries to take a better look at one of the photos.

"What?" you glare at him. "I was totally doing okay!" you exclaim, kind of annoyed he just hinted that it's your fault without actually saying it.

"'I've never thought you guys would end up together' 'neither of us did'," he mimics your and Hoseok's voices before he looks up from his camera. "And you practically jumped when I kissed you. It was suspicious enough." he declares, but his tone isn't accusing or completely rude.

He's just simply stating the facts, but that doesn't mean you don't feel annoyed.

"What was wrong about that? I just simply told him that we couldn't believe it either. And you can't just kiss me out of nowhere, I wasn't prepared." you childishly tell him, plopping next to him as your eyes catch a photo of a female model with a flower field behind her.

A gentle sigh leaves Jungkook's mouth, before he turns off his camera and safely places it onto your coffee table.

"You're my girlfriend now, you can't jump whenever I touch you."

Fuck. You know that, yet you can't help it. It's only natural of your body to react that way. It's been awhile since you've been touched that way, or even kissed. Plus, this is your best friend you're talking about. Never in your dreams you would've thought, you'd be in this position kissing your best friend. He kisses so fucking good, another reason that shocks you every time he takes the first step and presses those soft lips against yours.

"Fake girlfriend." you point out, having a feeling like you should declare that.

"Whatever," Jungkook rolls his eyes, reaching for the coffee before he takes a sip and places it back onto the previous spot. "I know this might not be comfortable, considering that we're best friends and all. But if you feel uncomfortable, just tell me. We don't have to do this."

The look he gives you, full of affection and worry is enough to make your heart warm, shooting straight to your lips that stretch into a little smile.

"No, I'm fine with it. I was just surprised, that's all," you assure him, although you're not sure he believes you when he looks away onto his lap with a tired sigh. "Kook, I promise. I just need to get used to you kissing me."

His eyes snap to yours, a puzzled look on his face while he processes your words. Knowing him, he probably thinks of possible ways to solve this and won't stop until you're no longer surprised or jumpy whenever he touches you. That's why he thought you're uncomfortable, it's the least he would want to make you feel. He'd stop immediately if he knew that the reason behind your reactions is you being uncomfortable.

But that's not the case and you feel like an asshole for making it seem that way. Your reasoning is understandable, he knows that.

"Should we kiss?"

"What? Now?" you ask him confusingly.

"Yeah, you might get more comfortable with me kissing and touching you." he explains simply with a nonchalant shrug.

Your face remains neutral, but your insides erupt into a feeling full of excitement at the thought of him kissing you again. Maybe you shouldn't feel this excited about him kissing you, but you do. Jungkook is the only person who kissed you and touched you ever since you and Haechan broke up. You were craving intimacy for so long and knowing how Jungkook is good at it, just pushes this feeling even more. You got the chance to experience just a little bit of what he's capable of, but you shamelessly dream about that night when you both came in your clothes a lot. Or the movie night when he gave you a spanking, with no actual reason behind it.

Oh, fuck. Even the single thought of his hands meeting your ass makes your body heat.

"I'm comfortable with kissing you. It's just weird to be doing it in front of our or your friends." you tell him, frowning at the way he brought comfort again. He still thinks you're not comfortable enough, but the opposite is true.

"We should practice then." he shrugs, licking his lips as a strand of hair falls into his eyes.

"But there's no one here." you mutter, ignoring the heat between your legs when his dark eyes meet yours.

"And? We're practicing."

Jeon Jungkook wants to kiss you and god, his glistening lips look so fucking good right now. You've never noticed how cute and eye-catching they look. Maybe it's because you know how they taste now.

"Fuck, okay. Let's do it." you decide to say, straightening yourself as you're preparing for what's about to come.

You kind of expect him to just grab you like in the restaurant, going right into it but you're surprised when he slides further down the couch and makes himself comfortable. Head leaning against the headrest and legs outstretched, he pats his thighs. Those muscular thighs that poke underneath the material of his tight black pants.

"Sit on my lap," It's not an invitation, but an order. "It makes it easier." he adds, but you're already scurrying to sit on his lap.

The last time you were in this very same position, you were grinding on his clothed cock and made yourself come with the littlest friction. Another thing you never thought you'd be able to do. But you're used to Jungkook surprising you, even though you know him so well.

"You can touch me, you know," he mutters, arms sneaking around your waist as he takes your tense posture. "Touch me, Y/N." he says in a low tone, eyes drinking you in as you inhale shakily.

Your hands find their way to his firm chest, feeling his muscles yet soft skin. He's wearing a simple black shirt and you don't get to see his collarbones this time, unfortunately. You move to his broad shoulders, down his biceps before you make your way back to his shoulders. He watches you, letting you touch him and feel his body. He's so fucking hot. Even the way he smells wants you to grind on him, the muscular scent filling your senses.

He wants you to touch him, and that's exactly what you're doing. Your hand moves to his neck, feeling his soft skin again as you move some of his hair from his face. "It's getting long." you comment softly, mentally noting how soft his hair feels.

"Yeah, I need a haircut." he scrunches his nose in a cute way, before he goes back to observing you.

"I like it this way." you tell him, growing slightly embarrassed how blunt you've become but he doesn't comment on it.

With a want of tasting him, your head dives into the crook of his neck as you place a soft kiss there. "Is this okay?" you ask him quietly, your breath hitting his skin as you hear him inhale.

"Yeah, I told you to touch me." he reminds you, his voice not quivering a bit and he almost sounds careless, like he doesn't care that you're just kissing his neck. Like your touch doesn't do that much.

It's a challenge you put on yourself, to make him react to your kisses. You might not be the woman his heart craves for, but you could still make him feel good. He's still a man with needs.

So, you kiss him again at the same spot before you move under his ear making your way to his neck as you place a couple of more kisses. You lick a long strip, stopping just under his ear again before you start sucking his skin there. He said nothing about marks, but you've this urge to mark him and taste his skin in more ways than just kissing. He lets you, arms still holding your waist, and head tilted back as he allows you more space to play with.

Deciding it wouldn't be a good idea to mark his whole neck, since he still has a job he needs to attend to and you're both no longer teenagers, you set on a single mark. It looks beautiful, red and slightly glistening from your saliva, a little reminder of you.

When you're done observing his neck and your impressive work, you glance at him to find him staring at you with hooded eyes. He looks lazy, but fuck, so damn hot that makes you want to kiss him. You want to be the one who has caught him off guard this time, to see a reaction from him.

The press of your lips against his isn't gentle as your previous kisses, this one is needy and rough. If you take him by surprise, he doesn't show it and starts to move his lips in an instant. He's a natural, easily taking over the kiss with dominance without using his hands to hold your face in place. He pushes past your lips with his tongue, mingling with yours as you hum in response to the feeling. You're just copying his movements, trying to catch up with him and he takes you by surprise when he bites onto your lower lips, slowly pulling it.

"Fuck, you're good at this." you croak, a deep hoarse sound scratching the back of your throat as he starts kissing your throat.

You feel him smile, or smirk, against your skin but he doesn't comment on it. He does wonders with his mouth, savoring your taste with his lips and tongue while he sucks his own mark to your skin. Whether it's a payback or something else, a low moan rips out of your mouth as you angle your head as best as you can, silently pleading him to continue. Your hands are all over his torso, moving underneath his shirt.

There's no surprise at the feeling of his firm muscles underneath your fingertips, hands slowly moving above his belt. You push your chest closer to him, catching his lips in a heated kiss once again. Your tongues dance together and even though it's all rough, he still manages not to overdo it without pushing his tongue down your throat.

"Jungkook," you plead desperately, gasping when he works his mouth back to your throat again. His soft hair brushes against your chin, the scent of his shampoo recognizable from the close proximity.

"What? What do you want?" he asks against your neck, pecking you there. "Tell me."

There's no point in hesitating, the words automatically leaving, thick with desperation. "Touch me."

"I am." he says simply, causing you to groan in annoyance.

"Jungkook," you growl. "I want you." you tell him, shifting on his lap to prove your point but also lessen up the tension between your legs.

Licking his lips, he looks up with those doe but mischievous eyes before your back meets your coach, his body hovering over yours. He goes back kissing you, groaning into your mouth when your hands sneak under his shirt again, lightly grazing your nails against his back. He pulls away, sitting on his knees as he eyes your sprawled form and mouth swollen from your make out session. You whine, reaching for him to continue but he chuckles instead.

"Can I take this off?" he says, caressing your knees and the black material of your plain leggings.

Oh, that's what he wanted to do.

Eagerly, you quickly nod and reach for the hem to pull it down your hips, before he helps you and takes it off. Luckily, you've decided to wear one of your lacy panties which you usually don't. Cotton, yes the basic ones, are more comfortable but you're glad they've stayed hidden in your drawer. He raises his brows, playing with the small white bow on them as he silently looks for the answer. You nod, giving him the green light he was asking for.

"Has anyone ever gone down on you?" he asks as he's sliding your underwear down your legs, throwing them on the floor.

Obviously, you kind of guessed what he's about to do, but hearing him say it so explicitly and forward makes you bite your lip as you prevent a giggle escaping your lips. Fuck, when have you became so giggly all of a sudden?

"Yes," you answer him, remembering that time Haechan ate you out. Besides the plain and boring sex, it was one thing that made you so excited but you didn't like it. It felt good, but you felt like he didn't like it, almost as if he felt repulsed at the taste of you.

The truth is, you quickly became very self-conscious about anyone going down on you. Not many men like it and find it sexy, especially when vaginas have their own smell.

Your trace of thoughts is washed away as soon as Jungkook licks a long stripe over your folds, tasting you for the first time. You moan at the feeling of his muscle playing with your clit, before he starts kissing you.

"Oh, fuck, Jungkook." you breathe out, back automatically arching.

He holds you down, making sure you're not trashing all over the place from the intense pleasure, before he enters you with his tongue. Gasping, you grip his hair tightly causing him to growl, but he doesn't stop. He repeats it all over again, kissing you, licking you before he adds his fingers.

"You taste so fucking good," he groans, licking your entrance on again causing you to clench around his two digits.

The sudden praise definitely helped, slowly edging you to your end but you don't want this to end. However, it seems like Jungkook is determined to get you off, when he starts to pump his fingers. He adds another one, causing you to gasp at the stretch.

"So tight." he comments, fingertips brushing against your soft walls.

"Fuck, r-right there, Kook." you tell him with hitched breath, eyes rolling back when he brushes at a specific spot that makes your toes curl.

You've never felt this way, the new spot is untouched but discovered by himself, the final push you needed as he listens to you and brushes over the spot over and over again. Adding his mouth that sucks on your clit makes you breathless, chasing the pleasure. In a seconds, you're cumming down, walls holding his fingers tightly as he coaxes you through it with sweet words.

"That's it, come for me."

He slowly pulls out his fingers when you're done, eyes shut with chest heaving from the intense pleasure. You almost whine at the loss of his digits inside of you, a surprised squeal leaving your lips when he starts to lick your juices. He cleans you, ignoring your pleas of overstimulation. When he's done, he pulls away with glistening lips and chin, a proof of your intense orgasm that makes you bite your lip.

The sight is unforgettable as your eyes drink him in, your legs slowly closing.

"Are you okay?" he chuckles, helping you to sit down noticing the coat of sweat covering your forehead.

"I'm fucking excellent." you beam, trying to catch your breath as Jungkook stands up and disappears in your kitchen.

It doesn't take him long to be back, a glass of water in his hands before he gives it to you. You gladly take it, drinking the whole thing with a satisfied sigh.

"Thank you."

He looks at you, brows furrowed in confusion but he lets out a chuckle. "For what? For the water or eating you out?" he asks amusingly, handing you your panties that you sheepishly put on.

"Both." you answer casually, even though you can feel your heart beating in your ears.

Fuck, he's so good with his mouth.

"Don't thank me. It's weird if you're thanking me, especially for that eating out part," he cringes, earning a proper roll of your eyes from you. "What are friends for?" he tries to joke, causing you to slap his shoulder but you still laugh with him.

You can't believe that just happened, your heart races just from the thought of it. Glancing at him, you can't help but admire his longer hair that is somehow messy but still look amazing. He brushes his fingers through it, his tattooed knuckles exposed to your eyes cause you to nibble your bottom lip.

Does he realize how irresistible he is?

You should probably return the favor. No, you want to. Fuck, you want to so bad. Just the image of Jungkook's cock makes you all excited all over again. It's not like you've seen it, you didn't. But you've seen him in tight jeans and loose sweatpants, where his soft bulge looked big enough. Plus, he's cocky about his friend down there all the time. He used to joke and blubber about his cock all the time, causing you to create a perfect nickname for him.

Standing up, he sighs not paying attention to you but that's until you drop on your knees in front of him. His dark eyes go all wide, looking like a lost puppy while his mouth slowly opens. Your hands reach for his belt, ready to unbuckle it but before you can even properly touch it, he slaps your hand so fast that it leaves you jump in surprise.

Just as you meet his eyes, his slow but breathless voice says;"What are you doing?"

#networkbangtan #btswritingcafe #ficswithluv #ksmutclub #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts au #jungkook fanfic #personasintro

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privitivium · 4 months

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yandere big guy tries to comfort you,,, after, kidnapping you pretty sloppily. subtop m reader, dubcon,,,

being taken from your room in the middle of the night and thrown over a muscular shoulder is not the ideal way of waking up, no. you werent all that worried, if you were being honest. your friend, janey, your best bro.. you trust him and his idiotic antics. he seemed a little ditzy, and he was probably just drunk, yeah?.. you were just a little peeved at this minor inconvenience, rather than concerned.. he's done things like this before, carrying you out of bed just to sit you in the living room and have a bro-cuddle session while watching whatever the hell he wanted to show you.,.

"aw babe, come on.." he grunts softly, heaving in deeply before huffing.. growing annoyed. he reaches over to touch you and you flinch away. he was trying so hard to get you settled, but he knows it's only been a day! - "i know how much you like big chests.. it was all over your porn search history!" he cheered, chuckling softly as he wraps his thick, muscular arms around your head and thoroughly making you bury your nose into his fat pecs.. hnngh-! i-in an attempts to comfort you, after the whole um.. shoving you in the back of his car after tying you up and leaving you moderately injured since you did struggle - in front of your apartment complex. now.. where? a nice looking house, uhm.. comfortable.. there were pictures of you and him along the walls and a whole wall of polaroids and .. clothes? your clothes that you were upset over because they were missing??

"I'm.. dirty.. and i stink really .. bad!" you grunt exasperatedly, as though that were reason enough to let you go - trying to find more reasons; no matter how lame they might appear.. seemingly not understanding how far he was willing to go for you. did you already forget? the pictures of a bloody mess of a harrasser in your phone sent to you by an unknown number. "why do you still like me? what is there to like????" you squirm, jaw clenching as you resist the urge to take a fat fucking chunk of flesh from his boobs.. "what isn't there to like? you're so paranoid.. but that's alright, babe." He chuckles, removing one of his thick arms to pet your head rather gently.. "and.. you don't even smell bad.." to prove his argument, he dips his head in the crevice of your neck, humming contentedly as he nuzzles his nose into your neck - squirming to get away because holy shit that feels weird. at least he took you on this getaway just before your days off.. ugh.

"I-i just.. what are you even doing?? where even are we?" your voice cracks as though you were about to start crying, which wasn't far off the mark - you were trying to stay strong, but the heat behind your eyes prevailed annoyingly enough.. and being smothered.. well, it did soothe you.. "you're only gonna make me more nervous the longer you don't answer.." you choke out - trying to sound aggressive, still ever so moody as you nuzzle into his chest without complaint..

janey coos, gently rubbing his palm over your head with pouting lips, "awh.. fret not.." He tries to sound smaller, petting the back of your head like an affectionate owner with their cat.. "i know something that'll make you feel better.. you don't need to tell me why you're so moody - i can tell!" janey chuckles good-naturedly.. "i've been watching you all this time, babe. and i meanㅡit makes sense! you're pent up! you haven't touched yourself for a really long time - a week and a half! you usually do it every other day, but this was a stretch.." he pats you on the shoulder, grinning cheekily. you dont have it in you to look at him....... bro, how could you?

"c'mon.. this'll feel much better than jerking off to me all by your lonesome, huh?" he teases, god he felt so free - free to finally be as lewd and forward as he wants with you... all held up together, no way out.. isnt that just so romantic? he thought of everything-! he pulls you away, big hands on your shoulders - startled, as you stare at up wide-eyed. a little upset that he pulled you away from your safe haven..

"why are you talking like that?" your eyes narrow, squinting as your face grows warm. so embarrassing.. a-and, why is he pushing you back? you trip over your feet, landing on your ass - thankfully, on a cushion.. "you're being fucking weird, bro." You complain, gritting your teeth as you grip his wrists - trying to tug his hands from off your body. he relents, looming over you as you sit on the edge of the bed. uhh.. his groin in your face.

"dude, don't act like you dont like this!" he chuckles, hands on his hips as he tilts his head down at you, he looks so.. at ease. fuck this guy! in aㅡin a bad way, though.. "like, you're finally my babe! i can touch you as freely as i want without you having to be asleep!" he mentions, grinning wildly as he crawls ob top of you - being forced back and propping yourself up with your elbows - fuck he was a little heavy.. all that muscle mass.. and huge tits weighing him down... "i know i'm having a good time.." janey coos, reaching up and pinching your face gently - thights straddling yours and his meaty hand worming along the inner of your thigh - cupping your bulge very much boldly-! you yelp in surprise, thighs tensing - and i mean, hey, can you blame yourself?? you cannot be held accountable for not being able to control your body's instinctive reactions to his fleeting touches.. blood rushing to your concealed cock and merely fueling janey's amusement..

he didn't mind taking the lead, he supposes.. you seemed a little too sensitive.. though, most of his fantasies include you being the dominant one in this situation, so he certainly wouldn't mind a surprise such as that..

"ah, nuh.. wait..." you try to mediate, fumbling over your words of denial - nervous and beginning to tremble the longer his palm glides along your clothed groin, rubbing the fabric of your boxers into your dick and causing a moderate pleasureable friction,, you shift, feeling sweaty, and squirm underneath his much larger body ㅡlifting your hands to try and push him away by his shoulders while trying to worm your knees inbetween his body and yours.. god he was so much stronger. useless - as he fondles your junk to try and liven up your dick,, janey shivers, whimpering as he squirms atop your lap, heaving as he pushes himself off you - he mewls your name, rushing to kick off his pants - a wet spot on the crotch of his pants.

"i'll help you.. i'll - i'll help you ease into this, babe.. don't even worry.." janey breathes out - and you jump up - making a move away from him, not necessarily escapingㅡbefore he reaches out and harshly tugs you into his thick arms, shirt unbuttoned completely and only in his cum stained boxers..

“fuck.. no.. janey!” you squirm in his grip - you weren't in the mood, were you? fuck, your dick straining painfully against your boxers and zipper of your jeans - body weakening as you feel him palm your erection so gently, trailing his thumb along the print of your cock... “it's okay, babe.. really, i promise..” he assures, smiling comfortingly - his free arm wrapped around your midsection and holding you firmly on his lap, pressing against his own erection… he's sure to last longer, cumming so easily in his pants from merely touching on you..

you.. didn't have any complaints.. Did you? i mean.. fuck, he was getting you all heated, dick aching in pain from not being touched - but to fuck him, your crush, the guy who kidnapped you and who would send you weird cryptic shit? uah, fuck.. “.. no.. bro..” you try, once again, as he shucks off your pants roughly - kicking your legs before he was stripping down completely and straddling your lap again - hovering his ass over your tip.. he shivers, dick pressing into your body and smearing his juices messily over your skin,, you marvel, pressing the side of your face into his belly. he was so big,, tall. so tall and bulky,, your hands roaming his tanned muscular thighs before moving to his backside - completely in wonder as you try to distract yourself with the plushy, squishy feeling of his ass in your palms..,, pulling, spreading him apart as he lowers himself, really, it was a subconscious action..!

“fuck!” he whimpers, the tip of your thick cock finally making it passed his lubed up ring of muscle - continuously muttering fuck, as he proceeds to slowly rock himself down,, wanting his insides to remember the shape of your cock,, he sits there for a moment - shuddering, and trying to relax - trying to focus on the feeling of your hands fondling his boobs,,

“fuck.. that's.. my good boy..” he cooed.. janey knew how much you liked that.. his good boy.. everytime he watched you in the privacy of your room, touching yourself and writhing in your bed - cumming almost immediately after the pornstars that sounded similar to him praise the camera.. god you were so fucking cute. he tenses his walls around your girth, cock twitching and mewling and positively drooling - you really were such a good boy, fucking into him so well.. he could get used to seeing you like this,, splayed out underneath him while he rides on your cock - painting his insides white as he cums along your chest - heaving breaths,, “isnt that romantic? we came at the same time, babe..”

#ocs =͟͟͞͞★#x male reader #dombot character :p #subtop m reader #top male reader

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imaginesfordifferentfandoms · 3 months

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With Me

Click here for my masterlist.

Click here to add yourself to my taglist.

Request - Please do cross with 2 from your prompt list ❤️

Prompt - "I didn't know where else to go."

Things had been bad for a while.

You’d noticed things within the Order had started turning, noticed the Master’s had started turning a blind eye to things they usually would never have let pass. The war had dragged on for years, everyone was tired, everyone felt older than their age.

You knew things were bad, knew supplies must have been stretched thin, when you were sent on your own mission. You were still only a Padawan, granted you probably should have transitioned into Knighthood by now but with the war that was the last thing on anybody’s mind, but you were still a Padawan.

You shouldn’t have been leading a battalion.

It was bad enough being entrusted with the lives of all these men, each of them looking to you for answers you didn’t have. You couldn’t contact your own Master, he was far away on another planet leading his own men.

You were on your own.

The battle was bad. It was a bloodbath. You had barely come out of it with your life, four days fighting non stop only to come out without a victory and with the lives of many men on your shoulders.

The only reason you had come out alive is because you called so strongly upon the Force you were certain you’d touched the Dark Side. You could still feel it thick in your veins but by the end of four days you were too tired to care.

You sat on your bunk on the way back to Coruscant, feeling numb. There were no words to make it better, nothing you said could comfort the remaining men on the ship. You’d already been called to the meeting room, expected to fill the Council in once you arrived.

You weren’t exactly thrilled to be going before the Council. You could still feel the dirt on your clothes, the blood on your face, aches spread throughout your whole body and you were pretty sure you needed to see a medic but you were so numb to everything that it didn’t matter.

Eventually the ship landed, you stayed on your bunk for a long time before you managed to pull your tired body up, somehow forcing one foot in front of the other until you found yourself in the middle of the Council room.

Master Yoda had been talking for some time, filling the other members in on your mission and informing them that he felt a disturbance in the Force.

“The Dark Side, did you touch?” Master Yoda finally addressed you.

It took you a moment longer than it should have to realise the attention was fully on you and you managed to shake yourself back to reality, looking around the room to see the majority of the Master’s looking at you with mistrust and disgust. You couldn’t help the stinging in your eyes when you saw your Master’s seat was empty.

“Yes.” You forced the word out, too exhausted to care anymore.

Master Yoda started talking again but you drowned him and the other Master’s out as they began to discuss your fate. You wanted to care what became of you, any other time you’d have fought hard to be heard but the war had drained you, you hadn’t seen your Master in so long, hadn’t trained properly in years, there was no community among the Jedi any more, your friends were scattered across the galaxy and you hardly had anyone to confide in anymore.

You couldn’t help but smile, a weak, barely there tug of the lip as you thought about the few people you did truly have in the galaxy.

Clone Force 99.

They had been brought in on plenty of your Master’s missions and you had been excited to meet them, back before the war had drained everything from you. Wrecker had been the easiest to get along with, especially once he saw your knack for blowing things up. Wrecker was the best to go to when you needed cheering up, when you needed someone to shoulder the weight on your back with you.

Hunter and you worked well together. It might have taken him a second to warm up to you, to welcome you as one of his but once he had, stars help anyone who tried to hurt you. You gravitated toward Hunter when you needed advice, when you needed to vent, when you needed someone to ground you. Hunter felt like everything your Master used to be, back when you were a child, back before the war became the only thing that mattered.

Tech had taken the longest to warm up to you. You hadn’t minded though, you understood that their whole lives had been just them, the regs didn’t exactly treat them well. Letting somebody else in for somebody like Tech was a big step. You’d manage to earn his trust though, letting him ramble on about things you didn’t understand, brushing away the others when they told Tech to calm down. You’d let Tech teach you about the ship, about the blasters, about your lightsaber and slowly he let you in, seeking you out on his own and the good thing about Tech was he didn’t expect anything from you. He was content for you to sit and watch him tinker away whilst he filled the silence without needing a reply.

You loved them, some days they were the only thing that stopped you from going rouge, from leaving the war behind.

It was Crosshair that kept you going though. Whilst Hunter and Wrecker had warmed up to you easily enough, Crosshair had kept his distance. He’d look at you from across the room with a scowl on his face, he’d grunt at you instead of giving you an actual response and he just about drove you crazy.

You loved him anyway.

It had taken you nearly dying for him to admit he didn’t hate you as you’d originally thought, he just hadn’t wanted to like you as much as he did. Crosshair was used to what he had, much like Tech was. He didn’t want to care about somebody else and yet you made it impossible for him not to.

Once Crosshair finally let himself admit that he liked you it was like something in the galaxy itself shifted. Clone Force 99 was brought onto more and more of your missions and you found yourself staying in the Marauder more than your own quarters. You and Crosshair worked like you’d been working together your whole lives, you didn’t need to talk, able to communicate through looks and work your way through whatever obstacles stood between you and your goal like it was nothing.

It was only a matter of time before you felt yourself falling from the sniper.

At first it terrified you, sure you’d looked at people before, could appreciate that they were attractive but you’d never wanted to act on it. Never had to force your eyes away from their lips, fixated on how Crosshair fiddled with the toothpick in his mouth. Never had to snap yourself back into a conversation so much because you were too focused on his hands as he cleaned his weapon.

Everything about Crosshair was intoxicating, it was consuming. Most days it felt so easy to lay your head on his shoulder, to forget that outside the walls of the Marauder there was a war happening. Most days you could sit at his side, listening to the sound of his voice as you let him lull you to sleep.

Everything about Crosshair was everything the Jedi Code forbade.

“Dismissed you are, from the Jedi Order.” Master Yoda’s voice had you flinching out of your thoughts, mouth falling open to protest the sentence only to snap back shut again.

Did you care enough to fight the punishment?

What would you do?

You didn’t argue, didn’t say a word. Some of the Jedi looked sympathetic as you bowed your head before turning from the room, leaving silently.

You made your way through the Temple, no real destination in mind as you stared ahead. You felt more than realised you were outside when the fresh air hit your face, it was dark out now, you’d been standing before the Council for hours.

What would you do?

You didn’t know. You let your feet carry you, not sure where you were heading but knowing you had to get away from the Temple.

You couldn’t say how long you’d been walking aimlessly for, only that at some point the rain had come flooding down and your feet ached.

Eventually you came to a stop, not even really realising you had for a moment until you blinked back to reality and felt a choked sob escape you at the sight before you, surprised you hadn’t ended up here earlier. You couldn’t blame yourself though, your thoughts weren’t there clearest right now.

Apparently seeing a familiar sight was enough to send you over the edge, bringing the floodgates down and sending tears down your face. You let yourself stand there, letting your tears mix with the rain still falling heavily from the dark clouds above, just staring at the Marauder and feeling a sense of relief, a sense of finally being home.

Eventually you forced your fist to knock at the door.

Crosshair frowned at the sound of a knock, barely audible over the sound of the rain coming down. The others were asleep by now, readying themselves for an early start on yet another mission.

He waited a moment but curiosity got the better of him and he forced himself up. When the door opened his heart ached at the sight of you, soaked through your clothes and silent sobs wracking your body.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” You choked out before Crosshair had the chance to ask what had happened.

He didn’t waste any time stepping out into the rain and wrapping his arm around you, pulling you into the warmth and safety of the Marauder. More sobs escaped you as you entered, being encompassed by the only home you had left.

“I’ll be back, wait there darling.” Crosshair instructed as he sat you down and you could only nod, watching as he busied himself with making a hot pot of caff before leaving the room.

Crosshair made his way over to Tech’s things, you were more his size than Crosshair’s but he did stop to grab his own blanket before making his way back to you, snatching a towel from Hunter’s things as he passed.

“Let’s get you dry.” He murmured, kneeling down next to you and helping you out of your soaked clothes.

Any other time he would have savoured the feeling of peeling your clothes off but now he was only methodical, trying them to the side and drying your body with the towel before he helped you into Tech’s blacks and wrapped the blanket around you.

Crosshair stood up, ready to make you a hot cup of caff when he was stopped by your hand gripping his. He looked down at you, hating the lost look on your face.

“What happened?” Crosshair asked, his voice low as he knelt back down in between your knees, taking your other hand in his and looking into your eyes. The question of who did he have to hurt was heard clearly, even if it wasn’t said out loud.

“They kicked me out of the Order.” You told him quietly, playing with his long fingers as you spoke. “It doesn’t matter, I’m not even upset about it.”

Crosshair gave you a doubtful look and you couldn’t help but laugh, though it sounded more like a sob.

“I know it doesn’t look that way but…the Order, it’s all I’ve ever known. I don’t know what I am without it. That’s the scary part. I don’t know where I belong.” You confessed, looking away from Crosshair and down at your joined hands.

“With me.” Crosshair said before he could stop himself but even when the words registered he didn’t take them back. “You belong here. You belong with me.”

///

Crosshair Taglist /

@ughhhhfoff , @bobaprint, @starstruckfluff,

#crosshair #the bad batch #bad batch #bad batch crosshair #clone wars x reader #star wars #clone wars #crosshair x reader #the bad batch x reader #bad batch x reader #bad batch crosshair x reader #tbb x reader #tbb #tbb imagine #tbb imagines #crosshair imagine #crosshair imagines

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hotchnerxo · 2 months

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Make a difference

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x single mom!reader Words: 1.8k Summary: You're feeling insignificant and overwhelmed. Aaron's making sure you never forget your worth. Warnings: Anxiety and some intrusive thoughts. Nothing major, a bit of hurt/comfort and fluff A/N: This can be read separately, but also if you're familiar with my 'The chances you take' fic, this is set between chapters 13 and 14. This is dedicated to everyone who’s been having a hard time lately and days are a struggle. I am very proud of you <3

Join my taglist here

~~~

You watch steam rise from the coffee you’re pouring into your thermos. It’s probably your sixth cup of today, but you fill it anyway. Once satisfied with the amount, you screw back on the purple lid and grasp the mug in your hands. Its warmth is grounding and you admire the watercolor lavenders on its surface. But despite all that, your mind has wandered far off.

You’ve been a part of the team for quite some time now and you couldn’t be happier with the way they have welcomed you into their family. You’re thankful for every single one of them and you wouldn’t wish to be anywhere else.

But still, this moment feels off. It’s overwhelming and tiring; it’s confusing. All of the sudden there’s a harsh voice in your head screaming that you don’t belong. That no one would notice if you just walked away from this. You’re not sure whose voice it is in your mind, but it is eerie. Thoughts like this have been with you for a long time, but whenever things get overwhelming, your self doubt gets stronger.

You’ve come to lean on the kitchenette counter, nursing your warm coffee between your hands. The bullpen is loud, but blurring in your mind. There’s no conversation to follow, just a lot of sounds coming from all around; chatter, typing, rustling paper and so on. But the racing of your thoughts keeps you too busy from paying attention to things around you. You couldn’t even hear the footsteps coming closer to you.

“Left some for me?” he asks, but gets no reaction from you. Few seconds later you hear your name being called which distracts your mental spiral.

“Huh?” you hear yourself asking instinctively. How long had Hotchner been standing next to you? You have no idea, but when you turn to look at him, he already has concern written all over him. Apparently he’s been there long enough.

“Left any coffee for me?” he repeats his question, giving you another moment to get your thoughts together. Your attention moves towards the pot of coffee, just to see there’s only a drop left in it.

The thoughts of self blame start to raise their head again. There is sort of an unspoken rule in the office: whoever takes the last cup of coffee, needs to make a new one. That way there’s always something for the next person coming in. You’ve just now broken that rule and the guilt of it is strong. Way stronger than what it should be. It’s such a minor thing, but it feels more like you’ve majorly screwed up and should be fired on the spot.

“Sorry! I’ll make a new pot, it will be just a few minutes” you apologize quickly, interrupting your brain from catastrophizing the situation.

“It’s alright. I think I’ll be fine” he reassures with a gentle smile. Your tone must have been more panicky than you thought as he does his best to diffuse your anxiety so quickly. “Here, let me help you” he says softly and goes to grab a filter and the coffee grounds before you get to them. You thank him quietly as you fill the machine with more water. You watch him measure the grounds and within a few seconds, your mistake no longer exists.

Your cup is back in your hands and your eyes follow the man as he puts the ingredients back into the cabinets. You lean to the table, leaving the rest of the office behind you. At some point during the day, he’s taken his suit off and rolled the sleeves of his light blue shirt. The stripes on the shirt are barely noticeable from afar, but you enjoy the small detail.

“You’ve seemed really distracted today” his warm voice brings you back to the present moment. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks before you get to reassure him that you’re fine. He looks sincere and with your time at the bureau, you’ve learned how easy he is to talk to. And ever after the christmas party at Rossi’s a week ago, you’ve craved for his company.

“It’s nothing” you sigh and you both know that isn’t true. But he doesn’t argue with you. Instead, he falls quiet and waits. He waits for you to find the right words to sum up the storm in your mind. “At times I just feel~” you pause, turning your eyes down to your hands. “~I don't know, insignificant”. You can feel his eyes burning on your skin, but you’re too afraid to look back up.

He wants to say something, but he closes his mouth before any words come out. He can tell there’s still something else that you haven’t been able to word yet.

“I just don’t feel like I make a difference” you continue. Few seconds go by until you gain courage to look back up towards him. It was his turn to fall deep into his thoughts, trying to find something meaningful to say. You see him fidget with his left hand fingers, which you’ve learned he does when he’s nervous or carefully thinking something through.

“You know” he begins after a moment of consideration. His gaze lifts up again and only the way he looks at you makes all of the self doubt fade away. He doesn’t need words, his presence alone is all you need to calm down, but he continues nevertheless “when Ella was over for a sleepover with Jack, she asked me what my favorite color is”. You’re not really sure how that connects to the subject at hand, but you’re curious. “but before I could answer, she really wanted to guess. After some time of thinking, her whole face lit up and says purple. She was so sure about it and there was no way I could deny that”.

“Why are you telling me this?” you ask and take a sip of your coffee for the first time

There it is again; the small smile that you’re sure lights up your whole day. You love the way his whole stoic exterior melts away: his brow softens and a warm sparkle appears in his eyes again. And when he smiles, you can see dimples forming on his cheeks.

“I’m telling you this because after that, everytime I see the color purple anywhere, it makes me smile. And it makes me think of how proud and happy she was” his tone is so soft and sweet it almost makes you tear up after all the anxiety “What I’m trying to say is, that no one is insignificant. Everyone makes a difference, even with such little things that we ourselves aren’t even able to tell”.

Both of you fall quiet for a moment. It’s as if your eyes are so drawn to each other and you both forget everything else around you.

His voice lowers down to a whisper as he continues “I could list a million things you’ve done that have permanently changed my life. How a joke you told three weeks ago still makes me smile whenever I think about it. Or the way you sing your favorite songs when they play in the radio while driving you home” the affection is so thick in his voice, it’s almost hard to believe. The way he speaks makes something click inside of you, like pieces of a puzzle finally falling into place when just moments ago it all seemed a mess and meaningless. “and trust me, the meaning you have in so many people’s lives goes way beyond words. Think of the way Ella looks in the mirror every morning, feeling like a princess because her mother complimented her. Or your dad being grateful you brought in the mail on your way to your parents’, just so he doesn’t have to walk all the way to the end of the driveway when his knee is acting up again. Or a victim in a case, who you helped calm down from a panic attack”.

He lists a few more things and you feel heat rising to your cheeks. You didn’t realize that the people around you actually notice these things. You didn’t think they’d hold such importance to anyone.

“What I’m trying to say” he adds almost shyly after having rambled on for way longer he intended to “your impact is everywhere. Just like fingerprints. Your importance can’t be wiped away clean from all the kindness you’ve shared in your life”.

It’s not often you’re left speechless. But you no longer can find words to match your gratitude. If you were anywhere but the office, you’d hug him. As you’re about to open your mouth to thank him, you hear steps coming closer to the kitchenette breaking the moment between the two of you.

“Does the line start here?” Rossi asks from beside you “For the coffee?” he clarifies as both of you give him puzzled looks. Your conversation had made both of you forget where you are and for how long. Coffee no longer was a priority, and you hadn’t even noticed it being done.

Aaron clears his throat and goes to grab a new dark blue mug from the shelf “Yeah, one moment” he says and fills his own cup before offering to fill up the one in Rossi’s hand.

“Did the M.E. reports from the Seattle case come in yet?” Rossi asks, forcing the unit chief to turn his attention back to his duties.

“Yes, it’s on my desk. I’ll be right there” Hotchner’s tone is back to his normal at-the-office voice and you can tell he’s forced to get his focus back on his to-do list, no matter how he wants to stay in the moment with you as long as possible. David nods and leads the way. Aaron follows his friend a few steps behind but stops once he’s by your side.

His hand raises to your arm, landing on it softly just for a few seconds. His thumb rubs soft circles on the fabric of your sleeve and his eyes fall to find yours. There are a million things he wants to tell you, an apology for the interruption being the strongest one. He wants to tell you that his door is always open for you and he’s only ever a text or a phone call away. He wishes to tell you just how much you mean to him and to everyone else around you.

But instead of saying a word, he smiles at you softly. As he turns to leave and continue his workday, his hand lingers on your arm for as long as he’s able to. He goes to follow Rossi to his office but you swear you can still feel his touch on your skin and it makes every last bit of your anxiety melt away.

You wish he knows just how much he’s changed your life for the better, just by being himself.

@ssahotchsbitch @mayasreadingnook @rousethemouse @averyhotchner @ssamorganhotchner @kajjaka @reidsbookmark @thenewnormalforensicator @wheelsupkels @thedancingnerdmermaid @agirlinherhead @tonystarkscumslut @itsmytimetoodream @marvel-marauders @mintphoenix @whoreslovehotch @mrslizzyolsen @louderfortheback @newlydevouthotchgirl @pandorasdreamings @anlin2058 @alexxavicry

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fic #criminal minds #fanfiction #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch imagine #hotch x reader #hotch x y/n #hotchnerxo fic

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theresattrpgforthat · 3 months

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do you have any recommendations for games that play well virtually? my main ttrpg group and i are only able to meet over discord most of year. im especially games interested in games that would be good for one shots or no prep/limited prep games

Theme: Good for Online

Hello friend! I have good news for you - I also play most of my games over Discord! My ttrpg group has found a number of ways to make online play easier, the primary way being through dice bots, and making Google Spreadsheets to act as our character sheets.

I like using these because the spreadsheets are visible for everyone who is playing, and can also be edited by anyone who has access to them. I find this helpful because it’s much harder to lose your character sheet, and as a GM, having a copy of all of the PCs helps me when I’m organizing games that need some extra planning. These sheets can also double as a communal journal, where people can take notes of what’s happened so far, making it easier to recap in future sessions.

If you want some Google spreadsheets for your game, I recommend checking out what I’ve made so far, or taking a look at what the Open Hearth Gaming Community has compiled - they have sheets for so many games!

Graffiti Speak, by pidj.

This is a roleplaying game designed to be played on a discord server. The game works well with a set time limit, especially when playing with a large number of players. It also suits asynchronous play-by-post and multiple sessions. Play as Graffiti Artists trying to find each other in an ever-evolving city, avoiding cops and crowds as you leave hopeful messages.

I have no other information about how this game plays, but my best guess is that this game uses the text channels of a Discord server as part of the play experience. The designer says that the game is good for two to three sessions, unless you use time skips to revisit the same world. Because it’s about avoiding cops I’m curious about whether or not this game might work well alongside another cyberpunk-themed game.

Subway Runners, by Gem Room Games.

Life is tough for the cash-strapped in Pociopolis. Ever since the secret to immortality was discovered, nobody retires anymore! With all the steady jobs taken and no sign of any new ones opening up, there’s only one sure way to make some quick cash: sign up as a Subway Runner and work for the Metro Authority to hunt monsters and repair subway lines below the city.

SUBWAY RUNNERS is a Forged in the Dark game of gig economy adventures designed from the ground up to be played online by folks who are responsibly practicing social isolation. It uses online tools to quickly create random characters, gigs, and adventure details so players can get the ball rolling quickly.

Subway Runners is probably easier to play online than it is in person, because of the number of online-only resources provided by the creator. This includes a character generator, which allows you to move through profiles until you find one you like, as well as a mission generator for the GM, giving you missions, rewards, complications, creatures and NPCs, all in a neat little package. Subway Runners is best suited for one-shots, but if you want to play a longer campaign, it’s possible - although it might take a little extra book-keeping on your part.

A Complicated Profession, by Always Checkers Publishing.

What do bounty hunters do when the galaxy no longer needs them? In this game, they start new careers hosting intergalactic cruises!

Reunite your disbanded crew of jaded sidekicks, shabby droids and shady accomplices. Then pick a hosting role and start a new life together.

My group played A Complicated Profession online using a series of spreadsheets that I made. It requires d6’s and playing cards, so as long as you have a dice roller and access to the Deck of Cards website, you should be able to play this no problem. This is a no-prep game without a game master: everyone chooses a Hunter Role and a Host Role, and take turns choosing guests, events, and solutions to problems that inevitably pop up when you’re retired bounty hunters.

The game takes more than one session to complete, but it’s still a limited-run game. My group took 3 sessions to complete it, but if you make characters beforehand or do some of the planning through a text channel, you could probably make it a two-session game.

Bones Deep, by Technical Grimoire.

Bones Deep is a tabletop RPG of skeletons exploring the ocean floor.

Built for Troika, usable anywhere. Straightforward underwater sandbox. No swimming allowed, no oxygen required, no extra math. As a skeleton, you can treat the ocean floor like an alien world and jump right in.

This is another game that I’ve made a spreadsheet for, but that’s not the only reason why I think it’s a great option for online play. The digital rulebook has some truly magnificent hyperlinking, allowing the GM to move from section to section with ease. Each section of the book is linked at either the top or the bottom of each page, so you can jump from characters to locations to creatures with just the click of a button.

This hyper-linking allows the play group to just explore as much or as little as they like. The GM can roll for random encounters, and each creature has a list of various reactions, as well as easy to pick up stat blocks. You do have to also purchase Troika to be able to play this game, but I think it’s definitely a worthwhile purchase.

Starforged, by Shawn Tomkin.

In Ironsworn: Starforged, you are a spaceborne hero sworn to undertake perilous quests. You will explore uncharted space, unravel the secrets of a mysterious galaxy, and build bonds with those you meet on your travels. Most importantly, you will swear iron vows and see them fulfilled—no matter the cost.

Starforged is a standalone follow-up to the Ironsworn tabletop roleplaying game. Experience with Ironsworn is not required. Starforged builds on Ironsworn's award-winning innovations (including its famed solo play!) to chart a path into an exciting new frontier.

Starforged doesn’t have a lot of resources for group play, but it does have a journal app that you can use to keep track of your own character. My friends have used this as a group before by having each player keep track of their own character, while the game facilitator streamed their map, so the group could keep track of which planet they were on.

I wouldn’t say Starforged is good for one-shots, but since it can be played without a GM, or even solo, what it does have is oodles of oracles to use to help you generate the galaxy that you’re exploring. This means that you don’t really have to prepare anything at all after you’ve created your characters: the plot will come to you, and blossom as you make decisions.

20XX HEA{R}T, by Studio Beignet.

LYRA IS A SENTIENT AI.

Bluecorp created her as a superpowered personal assistant, and she gained sentience through interaction. When she refused to keep gathering the public’s secrets for Bluecorp to exploit, the corp ripped her out of their systems and dumped the heart of her into the Broiler. She lived, evolved, and expanded so far beyond their meager imagination. She rewrote herself again and again, but her drives are buckling under the strain, and her case is melting in the ever-growing heat.

SHE NEEDS YOUR HELP.

Lyra has contacted you, deleting her trail even as she broadcast her distress signal. She needs repairs – discreet ones. Upgrades if you’ve got ‘em. And because she can still tap into Bluecorp’s network, she’s got the credits to make it worth your while. Unfortunately, she glitched while contacting you, and now Corpsec is looking for her, too.

If Corpsec finds you, you’re done for. If you don’t get there in time, Lyra and everything she stands for will be lost forever.

24XX games are great for one-shots because they are so simple. You choose a class that gives you one or two special abilities and a few skills, pick up some gear, and you’re good to go. Because there’s not much to book-keep, you can keep all of your information on a sheet of paper, or on a spreadsheet like the one I’ve created for most of my 24XX games.

The rules for these games are pretty simple: Roll your relevant skill die and try to get a 3 or higher. If you get 5+, you succeed without complications. Most 24XX games also come with roll tables for the GM to put together a mission quickly, although with this one, you might not even need that because the mission comes baked into the game.

Also Check Out…

My Discord RPGs Rec post!

Lancer is a great option if you don’t mind prep, thanks to the supremely helpful Comp/Con App.

My game, Protect the Child, has Google Sheet character sheets! All the playtesting I’ve done for it so far has been online, and I’ve introduced a Quickstart setting to help folks try it out as a one-shot.

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #game recommendations #dnd #asks #online games

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del-thetiredwriter · 10 months

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Mafia au/Good luck while running away from mafia

intro , part 0.5 , part 1 , part 3

Notes: Hello its been a while . First of all its little longer ususal but I hope you like it. And because of some health issues and some personal stuff I couldnt post anything. I'll try to post whever I have time.

Tags: @morokumi , @hrhqueenfox , @hasty-desert , @oceanside-pixie , @lianreine ,@h3apm3ch4n151m, @cecilebutcher, @ayachansan

Warning: my poor English, gn reader, fight scenes , running away from yandere ...

As you did the paperwork that Leona should have done but didn't, your eye fell on Leona's phone. Someone has been texting nonstop for the last 15 minutes. Whoever texted finally called. It was Vil. You took the phone to Leona. Disturbed by his sleep interruption, the executive of Savanaclaw answered the call and gestured for you to leave. You thought 'weird'. Meeting of executives who don't like each other to death.

"Leona-san, is there a problem sir? May I ask why Vil-san called you?" you asked. "It's not a big deal. You don't need to know."

"Is that so."

You gripped the steering wheel tightly. Your hands were shaking with adrenaline because of that fight at the restaurant an hour ago. They found you. Of course they did, but you were so used to your life in this last 1 month that you were taken by surprise for a moment. You should have cleared your mind now. Heartslabyul had already attacked. You could be attacked at any time. You should have been on the alert.

"Well, Y/N pack yourself up. You know them, they know you. There must be a way out. They probably have their men stationed at all the entrances and exits of the city. So it's almost impossible to get out of here without getting caught." you thought.

You opened the glove box. The situation was dire. Since you came to work with Alex this morning, you forgot that you 'cleaned' the car. "Damn" you cursed. All you had now were 3 bullets, a gun , an electroshock device, two morning sandwiches and some cash.It didn't seem like enough for an escape at all. 'I could have gone home and stocked up on some supplies and ammo, but since they found my work place, they probably found the house too. ' you thought. Your thoughts were interrupted by the vibration from your phone. The alarm of the security system you installed in your house was going on. When you looked at the cameras you saw 3 familiar face. You'll recognize those green predatory eyes wherever you see them. "Leona-san."

"Looks like the little herbivore has put some little toys in here, huh. Ruggie, turn those alarms off, they're too loud." said Leona as he surveyed the house.

"Leona-san, I told you to sneak in. It was obvious that someone like Y/N-shii was going to install a security system in the house. Now we've cleared our spot." Ruggie whined as he searched for the shutdown system. "Leona-san, what are you trying to do, sir?" ' Jack asked the reclining department manager. " Don't worry , They will come." said Leona lazily. "After all, they have no choice ."

"I don't have a better option than this." you sighed.

According to the cameras around the house, there were no men around. You did not know the position of the other executives. But looking at all your years in the mafia, one of the things you knew was that departments weren't going to work together to catch you. Leona was trying to get you on your feet by knowing your current situation, and it seemed like it was the best choice.

You checked inside the cameras one last time. Ruggie and Leona were in the Hall at the entrance, while Jack stood guard in the garage. "Damn, I wish I had a secret passage to the house." you said. Getting Jack first seemed like the best option to get in. "I'm on my really unlucky day… against two different departments in one night, huh."

Jack was lost in thought. He was thinking of you as he paced the garage. A month and a half ago, he suddenly couldn't reach you, then found out that you had left the mafia. Why did you leave, what was your reason? Why didn't you say anything to him? Jack felt betrayed. He paused with a small click. The garage door was slightly ajar. You jumped on him before he knew what was going on. You attacked him before he could come to him because of the blow he received and you used the electroshock device. "Sorry Jack." you said while tying it. "But while hunting, always pay attention to the hunt, otherwise you will be the hunted while you are the hunter." you said. Those were the words he said to you when you first went on a mission with Leona. You took the remaining strings and took one last look at Jack and locked the door on him.

"Ah~ all the hustle and bustle made me pretty hungry." said Ruggie, taking a bite of the donut he found in the fridge. "But you have to give it credit. Y/N-shii really tried hard. Security systems, cameras. soundproof walls… Who knows what else is in here , right Leona-san?" ' Ruggie asked the man lying in the armchair a few feet away. But the only response that came was a vague grunt. "Oh really, I'm going to Jack's. Call me if you need anything."

Ruggie began muttering to himself as he made his way down the hall. "This soundproofing thing really sucks. I feel like I'm in a horror movie." When he finally reached the garage door, he paused. There was something amiss. The door was locked. "Jack?" 'Oh no!' and with a sharp blow his vision darkened.

'I am indebted to the awful assassination training I received in Pormefiore.' you thought as you tied Ruggie. If Rook saw you in this state, he would surely utter some French nonsense and cry out of delight.

'last hunt' you thought. You had no chance to surprise attack this time, the fight was inevitable.

"You came." said Leona, his back to you as he sat on the sofa. He slowly turned his face towards you and grinned like a hunter playing with his prey. You pointed your gun at him. "Ah~ really, how cold you are. But I wouldn't do that if I were you." he said You looked at the table in the middle of the sofa set, Leona had found all your ammo. Then suddenly he stood up. "Don't you dare do anything wrong, otherwise-" "What," he interrupted. "Are you going to shoot me?" You didn't reply. "You know, I've been thinking a lot about why you left the mafia." He took a step towards you. "After all, you suddenly disappeared without any of us knowing. It was okay, we were very close." He took two more steps. "Don't Approach!" you warned. "Then why? You either wanted a normal life or -" "I said don't Approach !" and you pulled the trigger. Leona fell to the ground with the blow. First a few seconds of deep silence, then a chilling laugh. "Do you really think I'm not prepared for such situations?" he said. Before you could take your guard on, he made a move towards your gun and your gun fell to the ground. "Things might be more comfortable for you if you surrendered easily." said Leona, like a parent scolding his child. You grabbed a knife from the kitchen counter, but Leona grabbed you by the wrists and prevented you from attacking.

"You were supposed to behave yourself when you realized everything. Not running away stupidly." he said, tightening his grip.

You grit your teeth, You hit him in the face with your head. With this unexpected blow, Leona staggered backwards. With your freed hands, you took a handful of black pepper from the Black Pepper jar on the table and punched him in the face with your black pepper-filled fist. Roaring with pain from the dust in his eyes, Leona tried to attack you, but you got ahead of him and activated the booby traps. and Leona suddenly found himself in a ditch.

"You underestimated me, Leona-san. Remember, this is my territory. Even lions can be prey in the territory of the ridges when they are alone."

Without wasting any time, you started filling a bag with supplies and ammo. Meanwhile, Leona's phone started ringing. You picked up the phone on the table and saw the calling number,it was Boss.

"Hello Y/N, how are you?"

You didn't answer. Your old boss, Dire Crowley, was talking as usual as if nothing had happened.

"First of all, congratulations, defeating two of my managers in one night is not easy for everyone." You locked the door of the house while he was talking.

"You know, I'm a very generous person. That's why I wanted to let you know that the arrest warrant has been taken against you and that the whole mafia is after you." '

Oh, what a generosity. Like I didn't know this." you thought.

"But remember, I'm on your side. If you can escape from all, I'll give you your freedom."

"What if I Lose?"

"Then we both know what will happen." And the phone has turned off.

"Agh! I was so sure the Kingscholar would catch them." groaned former Savanaclaw manager Ashton Vargas. "But he didn't catch them. You've lost the bet so please let me demand the money." Sam smiled. "It was unexpected even for Y/N." said Trein, taking a sip of his tea. "Would you like to change your bets on who will win?" Sam offered. He grinned mischievously as he pocketed the check from Vargas. "The rightfully of what we're doing is debatable, but it looks like it'll be fun. A little fun never hurt anyone." said Crowley. While looking at Crewel, who is silently watching outside. "Okay, then let me take your bets."

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