#and then i thought about how id feel after having to exist out in the sun and bright to get there. and i turned it down! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

i-cant-sing · 2 months

Text

TIME TRAVELER AU PT 2

Original post/idea here. Part 1 is here. Part 3 is here.

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

I fucked up.

You thought as you sat on the bed, holding your head in your hands.

I fucked up so baaaaaad.

Not only have you healed Baldwin of his leprosy, forever changing history of the LEPER KING, but also managed to somehow be his bride. To make matters EVEN worse, you cant just up and leave right now because you dont know the disastrous effects it'll have on the future now that Baldwin wont die of leprosy, which means that the kingdom of Jerusalem wont fall to Salauddin and his muslim army and after that its just a domino effect.

You tried to view your options here.

I stay here, marry Baldwin and fuck up the fabric of time and space because how can someone from the future marry someone from the past? Wouldnt I cease to exist?

I leave, return to my time where authorities arrest me for fucking around with time- that is, if I even exist in the future now that I've altered history. Who knows if my ancestors survived/were born after this?

No. Neither option is good. I need to stay here and fix this. But in a way that i dont draw too much attention to myself so that im so insignificant that nobody remembers, let alone writes about me in the history books.

You were drawn out of your thoughts with someone knocking on your door. "Come in." You said, straightening yourself.

A couple of servants walked in, all women. "Princess Y/n." They all courtesied. "We've been sent here by his majesty to prepare you for dinner with him."

Princess? Ah yes. Only a couple of hours ago, Baldwin had proposed to you, I guess the concept of asking wasnt a thing here as he just slipped on the big beautiful ring on your finger.

You narrowed your eyes at them. "First of all, Im not a princess. You will address me as Y/n only. And secondly, Im not going to join him for dinner, so there's no need to prepare me" The maids all shared a look of confusion before the head servant spoke.

"But we cant address you as anything else until you wed the king, after which you will be our queen, princess."

"Didnt I just tell you not to call me princess? Just call me Y/n!" The head maid shook her head. "Princess, we can not do that. If we do, then we would be punished. And we must prepare you for dinner with his majesty!" The maids moved ahead to start helping you but you raised a hand, halting them.

"I said, no." You said sternly.

"What... what will we tell the king, princess? He's expecting you-"

"Tell him i cant come because Im sic- no, Im not feeling well and Id like to be alone." You cant say "sick" in this era, because that means "death sentence" here and you dont want to be fretted over and bring attention to yourself as "the king's fiancee got SICK!". Besides, you do need to be away from Baldwin as much as possible and have some time to plot your moves.

You had pulled out your notebook and began writing out dates and historic events of this era to plan your escape. You're trying to find some sort of shortcut where Baldwin gets sick again and dies, leaving his kingdom in the hands of his sister and brother in law, who will bring its downfall-

Someone knocked on your door gently. "Princess?" You quickly hid your notebook. "Come in."

Baldwin walked inside and towards you, eyes worried as they scanned you up and down.

"I heard you're not feeling well?" He asked and before you had a chance to back away, he had cupped your cheeks in his hands tenderly. "What's wrong? Shall I fetch the royal physician?"

"No." You replied with your face smushed in his hands. "I'm fine." You pulled your face away his large hands.

Confusion spread through his blue orbs. "Then why did you not join me for dinner?" He asked, using a hand to push your hair over your ear, not taking the hint that you didn't want him touching you.

"I just-" what possible excuse could you come up with that would be both effective and not insulting enough to have your head chopped off. "you- you dont care about me."

Baldwin looked at you in bewilderment. "I dont... care about you? Princess, how can you say that?" He tried to cup your cheek again but you backed away before he could, putting on a face of hurt.

"How can I not? You dont care about what I want, or even ask me what I need?" You feingned pain in your voice, turning away from him for dramatic effect.

He grabbed your shoulders and turned you towards him, his pupils grew wide as if trying to search for what it is that you need. "My love, what do you want? Just say the word, and I'll give it to you."

You looked down, again for the theatrics, and Baldwin lifted your chin. "Go on."

"You never- never asked me to marry you."

"Huh? But I did today-"

"No, you stated it- demanded I marry you." You furrowed your brows and looked down again.

Baldwin smiled. Of course, how could he have not asked you? You were a girl after all, you want to be courted the traditional way. Its not your fault that you dont know that kings do not ask permission for things. They just get it, because who would refuse to marry a king?

He kissed your forehead, lifting your chin again to meet his eyes. "Im sorry, princess. I shouldve asked." He took your hands in his and had that charming smile again. "Will you marry me, Y/n?"

"No." You shook your head. "I... I cant marry you, your majesty." You said, adding tears into your eyes. His brows furrowed in concern.

"What? Why?" You tried pulling your hands away but he didnt let go, tightening his grip ever so slightly.

"I-" well, you could say that youre not catholic and the church would never let you two get married, but you also dont wanna be tortured for being a "heretic". Maybe religious differences could be the last plan. Taking your silence as hesitance, Baldwin spoke. "I can offer you everything and more. Jerusalem would be yours. What is it that I lack that anyone else could offer?"

"I am not a good match for you!" Ah yes, lets do the typical "its not you, its me." You bit your lip as you yanked your hands out of his and walked towards the window, your back to him (theatrics). "You and I are not equals- no we are nowhere close! Youre a king, your father was a king, your family is royalty. I come from nothing, as did my ancestors. There will never be stability in our marriage when we come from such different backgrounds!" You never thought that you would be putting yourself down and call yourself "inferior" to break up with a man.

Silence hung in the air, as you held your breath.

"Youre right." You heard him say behind you. "We are not equals, we never will be." For some reason, instead of being relieved, a chill ran down your spine. Baldwin wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder. "I may be a king, but youre far superior to me. You're an angel, sent to me by God, and you saved me. I wouldnt be king anymore if you werent here, princess."

Warmth spread from your cheeks to the tip of your ears, both due to the close proximity and his words. Sensing your bashfulness, he chuckled, kissing your cheek as he turned you around to face him. You could hear your own heart beat at how close he was.

Baldwin tilted his head, half lidded eyes staring at you. "Youre everything and more that I could ask for, princess. Never put yourself down and compare yourself to me, hm?" He said, giving your arms a gentle squeeze before moving away, but not detaching himself completely as he took ahold of your hand and looked back at you.

"Now that this is settled, let us go eat. I've had the servants prepare a feast for us and then we can discuss wedding arrangements-" shit shit shit shit shit fuck it!

"I'm not catholic!" Baldwin halted at that. You've already said it, might as well dig yourself a deeper hole. You let the tears form in your eyes. "Im... Muslim. I didnt tell you because I didnt want you to think I was working for Salauddin and spying on you for him, you know I wasnt! I really did only want to know about you. Please believe me, I wasnt-"

"I believe you."

What? Just like that.

"You- you believe me?" You breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. Once again, Im sorry i didnt tell you I was a Muslim, but dont worry, I'll pack my things and leave tonight-"

"Why? We still have to get married."

You blinked slowly. "But... Im Muslim?"

Baldwin shrugged. "So? It doesnt change anything."

You looked at him in bafflement. "It does! It changes everything! We cant get married! Im a Muslim! The church wont allow interfaith marriages, and I dont intend on converting to catholicism either if thats what youre suggesting!"

"I am not suggesting that. You can be a muslim if you want to, but we're still getting married." Baldwin stated matter of factly.

"The church wont allow it-"

"The church will do as I say. I am the head of the church. Besides-" He smiled.

"I dont remember angels having to prove themselves to be a catholic. You saved my life, you cured my incurable disease. As far as the church is concerned, youre a miracle sent to me by God. Youre the Chosen One!"

Is he... is he hearing himself? Can you try to convince him?

"But... but Jerusalem deserves a Catholic Queen-" you tried weakly, but he cupped your cheek and smiled gently at you.

"I am Jerusalem, Y/n. And I deserve you." Was all he said before pecking your forehead.

He tugged you along with him. "Now, we have to eat."

You dont want to eat. You want to stay behind and think of another strategy because clearly you cant talk yourself out of this wedding.

"I'm- I'm not hungry." You said, making him frown.

"How is that possible? You havent had anything since morning. I dont want you getting sick before the wedding." Baldwin continued to pull you along.

Does he not listen?

"I dont want to eat- I- dont feel like it." You said a bit harshly this time, hoping he'd take the hint.

And he did, finally stopping. He sighed and let go of your hand. "Okay. I suppose if you really dont want to, we can skip dinner tonight." Fucking finally. "Its just... I seem to have developed a habit of enjoying meals with you. And now that my leprosy is cured and I have no more diet restrictions, I just- I had the kitchen prepare some of my favourite dishes that I was able to enjoy before my disease disabled me."

You stared at him. Is he- is he trying to guilt trip you? Baldwin once told you that due to leprosy he had ulcers in his mouth, and he couldnt eat different types of food, and was only able to have bland, soft goo.

You looked away from his big sad eyes. He's not getting to you. You need to go back to your room, make yourself scarce, be far away from him as often as possible.

"You can still go and eat dinner alone."

With one hand, he cupped your cheek. "Princess, you know I cant eat until you eat too. But its okay, if you dont want to eat, then I wont too. I guess I'll just have the servants finish the chicken roast and oh-! They even made strawberry cream cake for dessert. But- maybe another day."

You looked into his eyes, those blue orbs that were filled with sadness, resembling a kid who was just told "no candy!"

Sighing, you held his hand. "Maybe I can have a few bites."

His face lit up. Ah, he knew you'd come around. "Lets go!"

The next day, youre helped by the maids to get ready for the day. Apparently, Sibylla wanted to meet you and discuss some things, and you suspect she wants to talk about the wedding preprations.

The maids had prepared your bath and were very insistent on washing you themselves but you made them all leave the bath chambers. Finally, they compromised when you told them that they could dress you up if they wait outside.

Setting your old clothes on the bed, you entered the bathroom and settled into the warm water. The essential oils and flower petals soothed your mind and body, and you finally had some desperately needed silence to hear your own thoughts.

Last night at dinner, Baldwin was very- well, "happy" would be an understatement to how he felt near you. And all those forehead kisses and skin contact doesnt go unnoticed by you either. You suppose that since he had leprosy, he never really had or was allowed to touch anyone else. But now that hes cured, all thanks to your dumb ass, he craves the physical intimacy.

You closed your eyes as you sank deeper into the warm water. Gosh, did I really have to give him the water? Had I not done that, he would still be ridden with lepro-

Your eyes snapped open. Thats it. You just have to make sure he never drank your water in the first place! Yes! You can go back in time and sure, its always dangerous to go back in the same time period more than once, but you really dont have any other option now, do you?

After half an hour, you finally exited the bathroom and the maids practically ushered you to sit in the chair as they finally, FINALLY got to dress up the future queen of Jerusalem and after a whole hour, they're finally done. And... well you look good. Your hair has been done nicely, and a delicate golden headpiece, almost like a elegant hair band sits on top of your head. They added some color to your cheeks and lips with crushed berries. As for your clothes, they dressed you in a dark blue tunic with loose, flowing sleeves. The tunic itself was made of silk, probably brought in from the Byzantine empire and was only available to the upperclass of this time.

"I am not wearing those!" You said when they opened the jewellery boxes. There were diamonds and other precious stones adorning the earrings and necklaces.

"But princess, you must wear these. It is royal protocol for the king's bride to be, and the future queen to wear the royal jewels." The head maid said. She doesnt know that you dont plan on sticking around and if you leave wearing these jewels, who knows what havoc would that cause?

"No. I dont want to wear them."

The maids shared a look of concern. "What?" You asked them.

"Its just... his majesty picked these out for you himself. He would be mad at us if you were not wearing these." One of the younger servants spoke as she fumbled with her fingers. Through the mirror, you looked at everyone's worried expression. You doubt that someone as calm and collected as Baldwin would lose his marbles over his fiancee not wearing jewellery.

"I dont think the king would be mad at you if I dont wear some jewellery. He isnt one to get angry that easily, you know?" You said chuckling, but it died when you saw them share the same concerned looks again. This time, you turned away from the mirror to look at them directly. "What? Go on, no secrets."

Another maid mustered up the courage to mumble. "Well- it's just- the king- I mean- his majesty is calm but um-" she paused to look at the other maids for help but they all avoided eye contact. "Out with it." You said a bit sternly.

"His majesty... gets... emotional- yes, emotional! When it comes to matters concerning you."

"Emotional? What do you mean? Speak clearly, no word will get out of this room, I promise." You spoke all while glaring at the other maids to make them silently comply to not tattle on their friend.

The maid bit her lip. "His majesty... gets mad when he thinks that you're not being treated well." You gave her a look to continue. "A few weeks back, while you were strolling out in the garden, his majesty reprimanded some of his knights for not escorting you. He asked them why they weren't guarding you?"

A few weeks back? It may have made some sense for Baldwin to be protective of his bride to be, but you two weren't engaged until yesterday. And before that, his relationship with you was barely platonic, more like a king-servant thing.

"Tell her about the kitchen incident too." Another maid whispered.

"What kitchen incident?"

"Um, 2 months ago, when the kitchen had prepared a feast for his majesty, he almost fired the entire kitchen staff for serving olives with the entree." You gave them a quizzical look. "Well, his majesty had told them that you can't eat olives and had told them not to include it in the palace's food. But it was a feast to celebrate his victory and the staff thought it'd be best to add olives because the king likes them."

Your eyes widened at that. He almost fired the kitchen staff because you said you can't eat olives? I mean, it's not like you're deathly allergic, you just didn't like how tart they were and when Baldwin saw you picking them out on your plate, all you could manage to blurt out was that you can't eat them. Perhaps, he thought you had diet restrictions like him.

You huffed. That still didnt warrant such a reaction from him. "That isn't nice. Don't worry, I'll talk to him."

The maid looked at you in horror. "No! I mean, his majesty would not like that we- um..." she tried to come up with appropriate words that wouldn't be insulting. Her scrunched up face as she thought hard made you giggle.

"Fine, fine. I won't say anything to him. You have my word." You said, smiling at them assuringly.

The head maid then held out the pearl necklace to you. You sighed and nodded, and they all cheered as they started picking out the jewels for you.

Its okay. You told yourself. I can always drop them somewhere before time travelling.

As soon as you were dressed, one of Sibylla's lady-in-waiting came to fetch you. She hurried you, saying something along the lines of "you must see princess Sibylla right away!" And you couldn't stop her from pulling you along, so time travelling will have to wait.

"Princess Sibylla needs to see you right away, princess!" The maid said as she pulled you towards a room. Knocking on it, the door swung open and you were met with the sight of different gowns hanging on dummies with maids tending to them, and right in the center of the room was Sibylla, practically jumping on her heels.

"Y/n!" She yelled out as she ran towards you and engulfed you in a hug before her lady in waiting, the same one standing beside you, cleared her throat. It caught Sibylla's attention who gasped softly before backing away and immeadiately giving you a courtesy. "I mean, princess Y/n." You gave a nasty look to the lady in waiting before shaking your head at an embarrassed Sibylla. "You don't need to courtesy to me, princess Sibylla."

She immeadiately beamed. "Of course I do! You're not going to be just my sister in law, you're also going to be Queen of Jerusalem! Of course i bow to you."

Me, a queen? Yeah, we'll see about that.

"Still, I consider us friends before anything else." You offerer her a small smile. "You called for me?"

"Oh? Oh, yes!" She immeadiately grabbed your hand and pulled you further into the room. "I didn't know what colours and material you preferred, so I ordered them to bring everything with the best seamstresses in kingdom!" She pointed at the seamstresses, who bowed to you.

"But... I don't need clothes. I already have a wardrobe." Your statement made Sibylla laugh as did a few of her hand maidens.

"Ahh, you're so naive!" Sibylla giggled. "That wardrobe doesn't exist anymore. You're a princess, soon to be queen, you need a royal wardrobe!" She said as she dragged her hand over one of the gowns, feeling the material. "And! You still have to select your bridal gown!"

For the next 3 hours, Sibylla had the maids show you different gowns and materials, even helping by giving her input as to what would suit you.

"I still like my old clothes, they're quite comfortable." You sighed. Designing your new wardrobe was not something that needed your urgent attention at the moment. You need to return to your room and get the time machine from your old dress and leave this era.

Sibylla nods. "I understand what you're going through. I still remember how they burned away my entire wardrobe when I married Guy. But I suppose its poetic in a way. Since you're starting a new life, so why not start one by getting new clothes!"

Wait.

"They burnt all your old clothes?" Sibylla nods. "Mmhmm! In a way, you're burning away your past! And starting a new-" You didn't stick around as you immeadiately rushed out of the room and made your way towards your own.

You can't- your old clothes has your time machine. If they burn it, you can't ever leave!

You burst into your room, looking at the empty spot on your bed where you'd left your clothes before going in the bath.

"No." The maids, they must've put it in your closet. You searched it, searched your entire room but to no avail.

A maid walked into your room, watching you tear apart the bedroom. "P-princess? May I help-"

"Where are my clothes?!" You walked upto her, the poor maid's fright apparently on her face. "WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES!?"

"They- they're burning it-"

"WHERE?!"

"The gardens!"

You ran out of your room, and made your way towards the royal gardens as fast as you could, but with how huge this palace was, getting there took a while. Not to mention when you did get to the gardens, you didn't spot anyone there, but you did notice the smell of something burning, which lead you to the back of the gardens, that was away from everyone's sight.

There you found them, two maids burning your clothes in a small bonfire.

"PUT IT OUT!" You yelled as you rushed towards them, startling them.

"Princess-" they began bowing.

"Didn't you hear me? PUT THE FIRE OUT!" They scrambled about trying to find some water, but of course, they didn't have it.

"I'll get it from the fountain!" The two maids ran to get a bucket of water for you, but it would be too late by the time they came. So when you spotted your old dress burning, you pulled it out with bare hands, not caring about burning yourself.

The dress was mostly burnt to ashes, while only few bits remained that were still on fire. You managed to wrangle out your time machine out of it, the small metal box that was burning hot and left marks on your skin as you tried to hold it.

But even from here, you could see the damage was done. The area that displayed the year had now completely melted off, as did some of the buttons.

No. No. No. No. No. NO!

You couldn't help but cry as reality began to set in. You're stuck here.... you're stuck here forever.

Heart wrenching sobs wracked your body as you tried to hold the hot metal machine in your hands, your skin burning as you tried. Even when the servants came and poured the water on the fire, you still kept on crying, clutching your machine to your chest, partly to conceal it, partly from helplessness.

The maids looked at each in worry as they tried to console you, tried to pacify you, lest you had them executed. But it didn't matter, you were inconsolable. While one of the maids sat by your side, trying to soothe you, the other one ran in to get help.

Moments later, when you were able to hide the machine in your clothes again, someone came up and touched your shoulder from behind.

"Y/n?" You looked up through your tears. It was Baldwin. For some reason, seeing him only made you cry harder as you finally realised that you were stuck here with him. That you fucked up permanently.

"Oh princess. What's wrong? Don't cry- shhh, I'm here." He pulled your body towards him, letting you sob into his chest heartbreakingly. Exhaustion, frustration and shock must have overtook your body, as you fainted in his arms.

"Princess? Y/n?" He tried waking you up before collecting you in his arms and rushing back into the castle.

Hours later, you woke up to find yourself back in your room, lying in your bed. Your eyes looked down at your hands which were now wrapped in bandages. They only served as a reminder of what youd lost- your time machine.

Tears welled up in your eyes again. Am I- am I really stuck here? You sniffled.

A hand came up to caress your cheek, startling you.

It was Baldwin. "Princess? Do you want to tell me what happened?" His soft tone made you even more sad, and you raised your bandaged hands to wipe your tears, but he caught your wrists and lowered them back gently, using his own hands to wipe away the tears.

"No, you cant use your hands for sometime. The burns need to heal." His hand remained on your cheek, thumb caressing the area under your eye. "What happened, Y/n? Why were you so upset?"

You cant avoid the topic for long, and now that your way of escape is gone, you need to be careful of what you say and how you act around the king.

You let out a shaky breath. "They... they burned my clothes."

"Mmhm. Dont worry, I will have them bring in the fanciest clothes for you. Sibylla will make sure of it. Only the best for my princess." You shook your head. "Its not- its not that... They were my clothes... they burned away-"

"I know... but its a tradition. The maids burn away the bride-to-be's old clothes to signify that youre detaching yourself from the past and starting a new life." He explained, watching as you sniffled. Clearly, you were still upset over this.

"But the maids, they still should've informed you of this tradition before doing anything. I know how emotional of a transition this could be for girls." You nodded sadly, heart still sinking at the loss of your machine. "Dont worry though, they will be punished harshly for it. I have them in the dungeons tonight, and tomorrow-"

"What? Punished? No!" You cut him off. You dont want anyone to die because of you, especially when you dont know if anyone these people could potentially be an ancestor of yours.

"But they caused you harm. You burned yourself due to their-"

"No, no. Please, don't punish anyone- I- it was my fault for not knowing about royal traditions! Please, your Majesty, I beg you- don't do this- i- i-" You pleaded.

"Shhh, okay. Okay. I won't punish them for it." He patted your hair. "On one condition."

You looked at him in confusion.

"You call me Baldwin from now on." He grinned. "We are to be husband and wife soon, I don't want us to use royal titles with each other."

Your eyes widened. Is he- is he really giving up titles? You're not that blind to see his attempts at intimacy, but what you don't understand is why or even how you came to be on the receiving end of it.

What exactly is it about you that has made him want to marry you? Surely, Baldwin would've preferred to marry someone of this era, someone who is more compatible with him. Despite you trying to blend in the past months, you allowed Baldwin to see how you're not... as Conservative as most people of this time period are. One could say that he may be impressed by how intelligent you are than others, but it also brings up the factor of being "threatened" or "insulted" by the same intelligence.

Even though you consider beauty to be a "subjective" thing, the whole "beauty is in the eye of the beholder", you're not blind to how attractive others are. So why not them?

Did he only like you because you're intriguing? Does he still think you're a spy? Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer?

Probably. Or maybe he really does believe all that mumbo jumbo about you being "an angel sent to save him."

"As you wish... Baldwin."

Last night, after Baldwin had left you to rest, you stayed up and tried to figure out if you can fix your time machine, and if not, then can you built another one?

Fucking hell. You closed your eyes. I made it once, I can build it again. But it's easier said than done.

Back in the present, you had the technology to build it. Now? You have to first make the technology and the tools from scratch before you could even get on making your time machine, all while keeping your science project discrete, which was easier before because you weren't going to be married to a fucking King!

Right now, you're sitting in Baldwin's private dining room (yes, there are more than one dining room. He's royalty, what did you expect) having breakfast- well, being fed breakfast.

"You really don't need to do this." You said as Baldwin fed you another spoonful. He smiled as he wiped your lips with a napkin. "I don't need to, I want to. Besides, I don't want my princess starving."

Involuntary, your face flushed. "I- the maids could've fed me. And im not a princess." He frowned slightly. "Why would you- open wide, princess- why would you want the maids to feed you when you have me?" He pushed the spoon to your face as you parted your lips, but then he pulled it away and brought his face close to yours. "Do I make you nervous?"

You backed away immediately. "I- no- I mean-"

He burst out laughing. "I'm- I'm sorry princess, but you are just too endearing!" Baldwin chuckled as he grabbed the spoon again and fed you.

Your cheeks reddened, this time more out anger than embarrassment. "I don't want to eat anymore." You muttered, turning your face away.

He smiled as he brought the spoon to your lips again. "Ah ah, but you still haven't had enough." However, you rejected again, looking away instead of replying.

He sighed, placing the spoon back on the plate. "I'm sorry, princess. I shouldn't have laughed at you."

"You shouldn't have." You mumbled, face still turned away from him.

His lips quirked up a bit. "You know, for someone who insists that she's not a princess-" He turned your face to him gently. "- you sure have all the blandishment of one."

"Blandishment?"

"Flattering actions of a princess." He nodded.

You frowned. "Are you calling me a spoiled princess? A brat?"

"I would never!" Baldwin gasped. "I enjoy you acting like royalty, demanding respect and attention. You deserve it and more. Besides-" He picked up some food on the spoon again and brought it to your lips. "Even if if you were a spoiled, bratty princess, I wouldn't mind. I would enjoy spoiling you, hm?" He nudged the spoon to your lips softly.

You parted your lips, making him smile. It really is hard to stay mad at him when he looks at you with his baby blue eyes. They just- they draw you in.

"Also, before I forget, I will be leaving the castle today to meet Salauddin. So you can either hand out with Sibylla, who still wants to help you design your wedding gown, or your can-"

Salauddin? "Why are you meeting Salauddin? Isn't he your enemy?"

He chuckled. "Only on the battlefield. He and I have developed a friendship, or a mutual respect over the years. As to why I'm going to meet him, is... well, you."

"Me?" He nodded. "Since you told me that you're a Muslim, I thought that we could perhaps have a discreet Islamic wedding- what is it called? Nikkah? So, I could go and learn more about it from Salauddin."

You opened your mouth to protest. You don't need to be part of history as the "king of Jerusalem's Muslim wife" or "the Muslim-Christian wedding that took place during the Crusades", even if it might make the world more progressive.

But then, you didn't protest. "Can I come?"

Baldwin raised a brow at you. "You want to meet Salauddin?" You shook you're head. "Well, no, not really. I mean, I don't mind meeting him, but I just want to get out of the castle for a bit. It's been months since i left this place, I just want to get some fresh air." This could be the perfect opportunity for you, because if memory serves you right, Muslims of this era had made significant advances in science. Maybe you can use their help to get some tools to make the time machine again.

Baldwin looked unsure. "I don't know if it would be safe for you-" you held his hand with your bandaged ones. "Please, Baldwin? Can't you take me with you? And wouldn't I be the most safe when I'm with you?" Ah yes, stroke the male ego.

Finally, he smiled.

"Alright. I supposed it would be fine, after all, you should see the kingdom you're going to be the queen of."

Thoughts? (Also, I need to go shower rn, so I'll put the read more later. Doing so much effort for u guys, my spoiled greedy children)

Part 3 is here.

#yandere baldwin #yandere king baldwin #male yandere #yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere x #yandere x darling #yandere #baldwin iv

1K notes · View notes

irisintheafterglow · 9 months

Text

coparenting!megumi with satoru where one of you gets lost after school supply shopping it's not the actual child that gets lost

"megs, where's satoru?"

"i thought he was with you."

"that's a problem, then, because he hasn't been with me for the past ten minutes." you plop down next to him, sliding your sunglasses to the top of your head and taking in the busy park in front of you. the weather was comfortable today, cool enough that you weren't sweating but warm enough to have megumi's ice cream dripping down the cone toward his little fingers. you wordlessly hand him a napkin and he takes it without looking at you, continuing to observe the people throwing around a frisbee or having a picnic in the sunshine. there was a playground on the other side of the field and you could vaguely make out the blurry forms of children running about. "you can go play, if you want. i can stay and watch the stuff."

"i don't really want to," he replies. "i like sitting here with you." the corner of your mouth turns up into a smile. he was barely big enough for his legs to touch the ground and he absentmindedly kicked his feet back and forth under the bench. "do we need to go anywhere else today?"

"i don't think so, no. i think we got everything that you'll need for next week." he nods in assent and the toes of his shoes brush against the plastic grocery bags holding his new school supplies.

you could tell megumi was excited, in his own quiet way, when the car pulled into the parking lot of the store. as much as he acted as the bane of satoru's existence, you knew he liked spending time with both of you. you stopped satoru with a gentle hand on his shoulder when his lanky legs ran for a cart, gesturing toward megumi heading down the first aisle, basket in hand. you barely had to do anything for most of the trip; at most, you'd remind the boy of a specific type of pencil or notebook he needed and provide feedback if he was split between two different designs. any additions by satoru were pointedly ignored by the boy unless they were reiterated by you. "if you need anything else, just let satoru know and he'll bring it to your school."

"you can't drop it off instead?"

"i know i usually do, but i have an assignment that's sending me out of town. you'll have to make do with your esteemed mentor for a bit." you smirk and nudge his shoulder with your elbow, chuckling softly when he frowns. it was a little funny, seeing a child have the expression of a businessman desperately waiting for retirement. "what is it, megs?"

"he scares all my teachers." you choke on the sip you take from your bottle, jolting forward and laugh-coughing your way to normal breathing again. it didn't surprise you, what megumi said; it was the incredibly straightforward, slightly amused note in his voice that had water going down the wrong pipes. "i'm serious. whenever you're visiting, people always gush about how well you take care of me."

"and when satoru comes around?"

"they hide." a prideful noise escapes your throat and the two of you have identical smirks as you sit on the bench. your eyes carefreely scan the field for any bright white hair or screams of commotion that could indicate your boyfriend's presence, but there are no such things. nonetheless, you're not worried. he always found his way back to you somehow.

at least, that's what you think.

you feel the telltale buzz-buzz-buzz of your phone in your back pocket and roll your eyes when you see the caller id.

"hello?"

"i'm lost."

"mmm, poor baby," you deadpan, glancing at megumi to see a small smile on his face.

"aren't you going to come find me?" his voice is teasingly playful, implying that he disappeared on purpose just for the hell of it.

"i'm not playing hide and seek with you, satoru. just come back to the ice cream cart."

"but it's so much more fun if you come get me instead," he argues, his voice slightly too insistent for you to think that he's joking. he better be kidding.

"satoru."

"okay, fine. i actually don't know where the hell i am." he is not kidding.

you sigh, standing and taking megumi's hand. "just retrace your steps, sweetheart." you stand and walk a random direction in hopes that your navigationally-challenged boyfriend would find his way to you. the plastic handle of the store bag digs into the crook of your elbow as you continue to hold the phone up to your ear. "can you describe your surroundings?"

"uh, trees."

"those are everywhere, satoru. we're in a park." you can't help the giggle that escapes your lips towards the tail end of your sentence. the irony of the most powerful human on earth being lost in a park was priceless. "any specific monuments or something that i can head to?"

"there's a big field-"

"again, baby, this is a park. look, i'm just gonna do the thing. if you can't find us from that, you might need to rethink your career choice." megumi stifles a snicker from next to you and you abruptly hang up, cutting off the distorted protests blaring from your phone. you have a seat on the grass and megumi mirrors your position, taking your hand when you offer it to him. "just like we practiced, okay?" he sighs impatiently, but you knew it wasn't you he was irritated with. "alright, i'll go first and then you add on to me, yeah?"

stretching your neck from side to side, you close your eyes and slowly channel more cursed energy until it engulfs your entire body. soon, you feel megumi's faint but determined aura bump against yours. after less than a minute, instinct tells you that satoru received your beacon and you look over your shoulder to see him strolling casually across the lawn. he's tall enough that, when he finally stands above you and megumi, he blocks out most of the sun. you can barely see his eyes, but you know he can see the exasperation on your face. he merely beams at you like you produced the oxygen he was breathing.

"found you."

"took you long enough." he effortlessly pulls you up from the ground and you stumble, nearly slamming into his chest. "where did you end up going, anyway?"

"there's an old daycare center towards the back of the park. sensed something there and wanted to kill it before it bothered us," he explains, humming when you brush your fingers over the fabric covering his eyes. he delicately takes your hand and presses light kisses to your knuckles, so dotingly you'd think either of you had just come back from war. you're about to kiss him properly when a small voice clears its throat some ways below you. your face heats, suddenly remembering megumi is still there.

"are we ready to go, or should i give you two a few minutes?" satoru's jaw drops in indignancy.

"watch it, megs, or i'm gonna have satoru be the one dropping off all of your things during the school year." your hand ruffles the black spikes of his hair and he pouts.

"please don't."

"wait, what's wrong with me bringing your things?" megumi exhales tiredly like he'd clocked out of his 9-5 and walks ahead to the parking lot. you and satoru lag behind, his arm wrapped around your waist and matching his steps with yours.

"i'll explain in the car. will you be able to find it okay, lost child?" you raise your eyebrows patronizingly, putting on your best doe-eyed gaze. he scoffs, but you're not done making fun of him just yet. "whatever shall i do if you were to suddenly disappear? i may be forced to find another...suitor." you bat your eyelashes dramatically and you can see his eyes rolling behind his blindfold.

"ha, ha. very funny." his hands ever so slightly squeeze the flesh around your hip and you jump. "now i know how it feels when i start reciting shakespeare over minor inconveniences." you laugh and melt a little when his thumb draws apologetic little circles on your waist. god, he's so in love with you.

"i'm surprised you didn't start monologuing on the phone. it worried me."

"you don't ever need to worry about finding me because i'll always come back."

"you promise?"

"on the moon and the stars."

prompt is from @youneedsomeprompts because coparenting megumi inspiration comes and goes from my mind like an endangered species :))

hope you enjoyed ! likes, reblogs, and feedback are always appreciated <3

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo fluff #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #fushiguro megumi

1K notes · View notes

lolawritesfanfics · 19 days

Text

The After Party

Gif by: hils79

Genre: Idol!AU, 9th member!AU, angst, smut, fluff

Pairing: Mingi x female reader, reader x OC

Word count: I honestly don't know.🤷‍♀️

Content warnings/themes: Week 2 Coachella Mingi (yes, that is a warning.), reader is the 9th and only female member of ATEEZ, reader, her female friends and most of ATEEZ are in their early 20s, jealousy, hidden mutual feelings, confessions, someone almost gets beat up by ATEEZ(minus Mingi), slut shaming(from toxic "fans" and some guy), implied female masturbation, oral(f receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex(Do NOT do this in real life!😡), multiple positions, spanking, Mingi is a nasty pervert, mention of panties, nipple play, pet names(baby, bunny), let me know if I missed or misspelled anything.

Y/n's POV

"What the fuck was that?!"

Oh boy.......how did I end up in this situation?

I guess I have to start from the beginning.

We finished our Week 2 Coachella performance(which was absolutely fucking amazing.), so I decided to throw a large after party with my ATEEZ members and my female friends to celebrate.

Before we went to the after party, one of my female friends, Denise, got me to wear a really gorgeous black floral lace corset dress, where the lace showed around my abdominal area, the dress really hugged and accentuated my curves which I appreciate.

"Hey Y/n, are you ever gonna get with Mingi or what?" Denise asked. "No, I can't, Denise. Mingi is my bandmate, if that was to ever happen and the fans and public found out about us, it would ruin our careers forever. Not to mention the amount of endless hate I'll receive, hell would have to freeze over before people would stop calling me a whore and a slut for existing." I replied.

Ever since I debuted with ATEEZ as the 9th and only female member, I have always been a target of hate, especially from toxic female "fans" who would comment awful things about me such as:

"She's nothing but a cheap slut with no talent."

"I bet she slept with all the other members in order to debut."

"She only got to debut because of her looks and sex appeal."

"The whore of ATEEZ."

Another one of my female friends, Mia, facepalms and shakes her head and says "Y/n, you care way too much about people think of you, those "fans" who post those hateful comments about you are just jealous of the fact that you're in the same group as the members, especially Mingi."

"Exactly, you know you want Mingi, Y/n. I mean, you talk to us about how you want to be dicked down by Mingi all the time, so why are you not allowing yourself to be with him? Besides, you can be in a secret relationship with Mingi, the fans and the public doesn't have to know." Denise complains as Mia nods in agreement.

In their defense, I do want Mingi, so badly my body aches for his touch. I cannot count the amount of times I fantasised about Mingi, I even touched myself and made myself cum to the (im)pure thought of all the unholy, depraved things I would let Mingi do to me so many times that I'm embarassed to say it out loud.

And being in a secret relationship with Mingi would be such a good id- No, no, no and no, I cannot and will not ruin my members' reputation just because I want Mingi to myself. We made it too far to just let it all crumble down because of my feelings.

As I shake off the thoughts of being with Mingi, Iet down my hair and put on stlying mousse to make it more defined, then I do a smoky eye with mascara, an wine red ombré lip, lightly spray on my Black Opium perfume, put on my black stilleto heels on and call it a night.

"Y/n, you ready? Everybody's waiting for you!!!" Denise called as Mia did a come-here gesture for me to hurry. "Yes, I'm on my way!!!" I replied as I walked out my hotel room to the after party with Denise and Mia.

"HEY Y/N!!!" The rest of my female friends, Tatiana and Simone, greeted as they pull me, Denise and Mia in for a group hug.

"Why hello ladies." Wooyoung greeted. "Hey, Wooyoung." We greeted back. "You all look gorgoeous tonight."

"Thank you, Wooyoung." We all said as we giggled due to him complimenting us.

"Wooyoung, such a shameless flatterer, is he." Simone says as she shakes her head in pure fondness.

"He sure is, anyways what the hell are we waiting for, let's celebrate for Christ's sake!!!" Tatiana cheers as we all go to party.

"Hey Wooyoung, call the rest, the party is about to start!!!" I called him.

"Will do, Y/n. Yeosang! Seonghwa! Jongho! The party's about to start!"

90s and early 2000s pop, hip hop and r&b music booms throughout nearly the entire hotel as me, my friends and bandmates Wooyoung, Yeosang, Seonghwa and Jongho dance to our hearts' content in celebration of our week 2 Coachella performance. Then an hour later, Tatiana introduces me and the girls to this guy in our age range called Jason. "It's so good to finally meet you ladies, Tati told me so much about y'all, especially you, Y/n." Jason says as he gives me a lustful smirk which doesn't sit well with my friends and I, but me and Tatiana try to ignore it.

As the song Genie in the Bottle by Christina Aguilera comes to an end, Simone taps me on the shoulder and says "Y/n, if you need us for anything, we'll be at the door over there." while pointing at the door in the middle of the venue room where the party is taking place which is not too far from me.

"Ok. Thank you guys." I nod. Simone, Mia and Denise go on their way as she warns me "Be careful with that Jason guy, ok?" I nod, she smiles and follows Denise and Mia.

As the party goes on, I dance with Jason when he asks me "So how is it like with your bandmates, Y/n?" with that damn smirk. Then I reply "Oh, my bandmates are really great people to be around, especially Mingi. Throughout all the years I was with them, they always made me feel welcome, safe as if I've known them all my life." with a smile on my face at the thought of them. "Oh, is that so?" Jason tilts his head to the right with his infamous smirk and a jealous glint in his eyes, which obviously weirded me out but then again I try to ignore that.

As more early 2000s songs such as Promiscuous and Maneater by Nelly Furtado, The Way I Are by Timbaland and Gimme More by Britney Spears played throughout the party, Jason and I continue to dance together with our bodies increasingly pressing against each other, which doesn't go unnoticed not only by my female friends but with my bandmates Wooyoung, Yeosang, Seonghwa and Jongho as they looked at each other in suspicion and confusion at me and Jason. Dancing so closely against him doesn't feel right to me, however I try to ignore it in order to help myself move on from Mingi but it doesn't work.

Then Jason tucks my side bangs behind my ear to whisper softly "Can we take this to the pool?" I nod as he grabs my hand to lead me to the changing room where I changed into my glittery gold bikini while Jason changed into his swimming shorts. He then takes from the changing room to the outdoor pool with gorgeous pink and purple lights. We step into the pool, Jason grabs my waist and pulls me closer to him. "You've been really enjoying yourself, haven't you Y/n." once again with that smirk. I look down and nod with a forced smile as what Jason said isn't the truth at all in the slightest(not that he knows this, of course). Throughout the whole time I danced with him, all I could think about was Mingi and how I wished he was the one I was dancing with instead of Jason.

His notorious smirk soons fades away into a serious look on his face as he holds up my chin with his thumb and index finger to get me to look at him, he states " Y/N, I met a lot women in my lifetime and I must say, you are one of the most beautiful women I have ever laid my eyes on." "Really?!" I squeaked out with a stunned look on my face. Jason curtly nodded as he come even closer to me than ever before. He holds up my chin again as he turns to kiss me. My hearts starts to beat rapidly against my chest, I force myself to close my eyes as Jason leans in to kiss me.

Until I heard someone clear their throat.

My eyes shoots wide open as I turn my head to the right. To my greatest shock and horror, my heart hammers against my chest and my face goes pale as I see Mingi, face to face, with the most furious look in his face I have ever seen in all the years I've known him, with jealousy and lust in his eyes, along with Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, San, Wooyoung, Jongho and all my female friends looking at me and Jason, shocked beyond belief.

"Y/n, what's the meaning of all this?!! Who is this guy?!! Hongjoong exclaims, pointing at Jason, who is confused and irritated at this whole situation happening here.

" I...I..." I stutter, not knowing what to do or say.

"And why are you alone in the pool with him?" Yunho questions, with a puzzled look.

San turns to Wooyoung and exclaims "How the hell did this happen?!" while pointing at me and Jason, who is becoming increasingly annoyed.

"Oh, I'll tell you. Tatiana introduced this Jason guy to Y/N and the rest of her friends!!!" Wooyoung exclaims as he points at Jason, then at Tatiana.

"Huh?!" Hongjoong, Seonghwa and Yunho exclaimed, raising their eyebrows.

"That's his name? Tch, Jason." San scoffs which really pissed off Jason as he darts his head and glares at San.

Tatiana immediately raises her hands in defense and raised her voice. "Hey, hey, hey!!! I only invited Jason to the after party and introduced him to Y/N, Mia, Simone and Denise. I didn't expect him to try kiss Y/n!"

Jason becomes more and more angry as he fumed "What the fuck is this bullshit, Tatiana?!!" glaring at her in which she becomes visibly upset at his accusatory remark.

"Hey, don't you dare frown at her, Jason." Mia warns Jason as she wags her index finger at him with a stern glare. She turns to me and questions "Also, Y/n, why the hell did you go in the pool with him in the first place?!" "Exactly." Denise added, rubbing her temples in annoyance, as Yeosang, Seonghwa, Jongho and Simone nodded in agreement.

I look around, speechless as I still don't know how to go on about this situation I found myself in.

"Y/n, I think it's best we call this party off." Seonghwa states as Hongjoong curtly nodded in agreement.

"No." Mingi says for the first time since this messy incident took place, taking everyone, including me, aback.

"You can continue with this party, I'll take Y/n with me to my hotel room so she can explain herself to me about whatever this is." Mingi says as he take off his jacket.

"Y/n." Mingi calls out my name.

"Y-yes, Mingi?" I answered with a shaky voice.

"Get out of the pool, put on my jacket and follow me to my room." Mingi says flat out.

Jason snaps when he hears this, he gets out of the pool, goes up to Mingi to bark at him " Fuck off, you asshole!!! Find your own girl, I had Y/n first!"

Mingi scoffs and sneered at Jason "You think I give a fuck about you want?"

Mingi turns to me and says "Y/n, you have two choices now, me or him?"

Everyone, especially Mia and Denise, look at me in hopes I'll pick Mingi over Jason.

I wanted Mingi to myself for such a long time so, I no longer see the point in fighting my feelings anymore.

I take in a deep breath and reply,

"You, Mingi." as I get up out of the pool and go towards him.

Jason looks at me in an unimpressed, condescending stare and has the audacity to open his decaying mouth to say to me "I actually expected a lot better from you, Y/n. But of course, what is there to expect from such a cheap slut."

"Wow." I say as I look at Jason with the utmost unimpressed expression ever.

Everyone else screamed out "WHAT?!" in absolute fury at Jason's hateful comment towards me due to me rejecting him for Mingi.

"You lowlife bastard!!!" San roars as he charges towards Jason, along with the rest of the members.

Jason, now terrified, tries to run away but ends up slipping on the concrete floor towards the end of the outdoor pool porch.

"Mingi, take Y/N to your hotel room while we deal with this bitch made loser!!!" Hongjoong shouted.

"Will do, Captain! Y/N, put on my jacket and come with me." Mingi says as I put on his jacket. He grabs my hand and leads me to his hotel room.

Author's POV

"Oh, I'll make you regret saying that about Y/n." Yunho growls as he rolls his sleeves up.

"Me too!!!" Wooyoung roars as he clenched his fists.

"And the rest of us, you son of a bitch. Get him, boys!! Seonghwa yells, all of them ready to lunge at Jason.

Jason screams "NOOOOO!!!"

However Tatiana rushes to stop them. "WAIT!!!" she yells.

"What is it now, Tatiana?!! Wooyoung growls at her with gritted teeth.

"I have a better idea on how we should deal with Jason." She says.

"And what is the idea do you have in mind, Tatiana?" Jongho questions. "Yeah, how are we sure that your idea is better, Tatiana? Yeosang added.

"Mia! Denise!" Tatiana calls with a come-here motion.

"Yes, Tatiana?" Denise replied, with a confused look on her face, along with Mia.

"Y/n talks to the both of y'all about Mingi, right?" Tatiana questioned.

'Well duh, she goes on and on about him all the time, including all the nasty shit she would allow Mingi to do to her" Mia confirmed, which made all the other ATEEZ members raise their eyebrows in shock and curiosity.

Jason becomes confused as he can't hear what everyone else is saying as they're talking in hushed tones.

"She does?!" Yeosang and Simone whisper yells in shock.

"Yep, a lot of it involves hair pulling, manhandling and multiple positions." Denise confirmed.

"Well damn, this is news to me." Yunho chuckled.

"I never knew Y/n is so naughty." San smirked. "Anyway, Tatiana, what the hell has this information got to do with your idea?" Wooyoung asked.

"In Mingi's hotel room, he and Y/n could end up having sex, so why don't we force Jason to hear them fuck?" Tatiana whispers in Wooyoung's ear.

Wooyoung gleefully smirks at Tatiana's delightfully lewd idea. " You know what, Tatiana? You're a genius." he LOVED her idea.

"So what did she say?" Hongjoong curiously asked as everyone were all ears.

"She said we should get that loser to listen to Y/N and Mingi fucking." Wooyoung confirmed with a mischievious smirk on his face.

Everyone else, even including Jongho and Simone, giggled at the dirty idea. "I'll give you credit, Tatiana, your idea is indeed better than we initially had in mind." Hongjoong stated and winked at Tatiana, which made her flustered as a result.

"Jongho! San! Carry that dork up to the area facing Mingi's hotel room door. Wooyoung! Yeosang! Get a stable chair, really good duct tape and follow Jongho and San. Seonghwa! Yunho! You both look after the ladies in the party, ok?"

"Ay, ay, Captain!" Seonghwa and Yunho replied in unison.

"Hey! Who are you calling a dork, asshole?!" Jason yelled at Hongjoong.

"Oh, shut up, you idiot." Jongho spits out as he carried the pathetic man along with San.

Y/n's POV

Mingi and I finally make it to his hotel room, he closes and locks his door as I take off his jacket and put on the hanger next to the door on the left side.

Mingi looks at me and exclaims "What the fuck was that?!".

'What was what?" I asked as I dart my eyes left and right with a puzzled look on my face.

"Don't play dumb with me, Y/n. You, in the pool with that Jason guy, that fucker trying to kiss you and you allowing him?! What the hell was that?!" Mingi seethed with jealousy, lust and desire in his feline eyes, which makes me throb with need in between my thighs.

"Mingi, I can explain!" I plead with him.

"Oh, you better explain yourself, Y/n and start explaining right goddamn now." Mingi ordered. "And I don't want to hear about what led up to whatever that was, I wanna hear WHY you were in the pool with that asshole in the first place." He added.

I take in a deep breath, clear my throat and decide to tell him the truth about everything.

"Mingi, the reason why I was in the pool with Jason is because I was trying to move on from you."

Mingi looks at me, confused and asks "What do you mean by "trying to move on from me"?"

I sigh and confirm his question "Mingi, I wanted you for a long time, I chose not to tell you because I was worried if we were together and the fans and the public found out about us, it would ruin everything we worked so hard for, not to mention how people would always attack me for ruining ATEEZ's reputation, especially yours. I felt I would be selfish and inconsiderate if I told you my feelings, Mingi."

Mingi walks closer to me and says "Y/N, look at me in my eyes." I look at him in his eyes as he lifts up my chin with his index finger.

"What if I told you...I want you to be selfish, Y/n?" Mingi purred in my ear with that deep, raspy voice of his that always makes me soaking wet.

"W-what d-do you mean?" I stutter, already trembling, feeling breathless from how seductively Mingi whispered in my ear.

"You said you want me, right Y/N?" I nod with no hesitation as his statement is true in every sense of the word. "If wanting me to fuck you senseless makes you selfish, then be selfish with me, Y/n. Because quite frankly, I don't give a fuck about what the fans or the public thinks of us, baby."

Mingi then crashes his lips against mine with a needy, desperate kiss as he pins me against the hotel door with my legs wrapped around his waist, leaving my wine red lipstick smudged, sending me into a state of bliss and ecstasy.

I knew Mingi would be a good kisser but goddamn.....he took my breath away.

As he wantonly kisses my jaw, he purrs in my ear "I'm gonna do all the nasty shit you've wanted me to do to you, all the things you said amongst your friends."

"W-what?!" I squeaked out as my eyes pop wide open, completely caught off guard by his dirty remark.

He chuckles with a lewd smirk "Oh baby, don't act so innocent with me. Did you really think I don't know how you talk about me with your friends? The amount of times you touched yourself in your dorm when you thought no one else was around?"

My cheeks burned, flustered at his confirmation.

"There's no need to be shy, Y/n. I think it's hot." Mingi coos as he cups my cheeks with his left hand.

He then kisses my neck, sucking, gently biting and leaving hickies on it, making me moan and whine as a result.

As he goes down to my chest, he takes off my bikini bra, showcasing my erect nipples.

"Goddamn, you have such gorgeous tits, Y/N." He then sucks and nibbles my left nipple. "Mingi!! Please.." I gasped. My body starts to heat up, I try to suppress my moans and whimpers by pressing my lips together as Mingi sucks on both of my nipples.

He leaves a trail of kisses from my chest to in between my inner thighs, where my arousal drips down to my legs. "I want to eat your pussy so bad." Mingi breathed out.

"Mingi!!" I cried out as he ripped my bikini panties off. "Don't worry, bunny. I'll buy you another set." I clenched around nothing at the pet name, Mingi takes notice of this. "Oh, you like that, huh?" He smirks. He then takes a view of my dripping, aching cunt, face to face. "My God, you're dripping, you have such a pretty pussy. I bet you taste so good."

He put my legs on his shoulders and latches on my throbbing clit with his wet lips, making me throw my head back against the door and nearly scream as a result.

I clutch my mouth shut, biting into my left hand, to keep my voice down as he sucks and licks my clit like a starved man, desperate moans and whimpers threatening to erupt from within me.

All of a sudden, Mingi takes his mouth away from my clit, leaving me all taken aback, confused and frustrated. "Mingi, wh-wh-why did you stop?"

"You fucking tease me by showing off on stage, touch yourself to the thought of me when no one's at the dorm, talk about all these things you want me to do to you to your friends and you hide those moans from me? Very rude of you, don't you think?"

Before I even get the chance to go off at Mingi, he goes down to hungrily suck my clit, making me throw my head back against the door again and scream out loud in pleasure.

The fucking audacity of this menace. I'm literally wet and horny all the damn time because his goddamn antics on stage, him grabbing his cock every 5 seconds, his deep, raspy ass voice that goes straight to my clit and so many other things I go on and on about, is this man for real?!

"Mingi! Please...please, pl-ease."

"Please what, Y/n?" He growls.

"Please keep going." I shakily moan.

"Then don't you dare hide those moans from me, otherwise neither of us will cum."

I quickly nodded, desperate to have my sweet release.

Mingi then continues his attack on my clit with his mouth.

My moans and whimpers start to fill up the room, I stroke his platnium blonde locks as he flicks my clit with his tongue, he moans into my throbbing bud. "My God, your pussy is so delicious, so much better than licking off your red panties."

No wonder I couldn't find my red panties anywhere in my dorm.

Perhaps, I should have been disgusted from Mingi saying this but it just made me even more needy and desperate for him.

Because of this, I drew closer and closer to my much needed orgasm, my moans becoming more high pitched and breathless.

"Mingi....baby, I'm so close, please don't stop"

"I won't stop, bunny. I promise" He breathes out as his sucks and flicks on my clit becomes much quicker and desperate.

Then I feel that oh so familiar knot in my stomach. "Oooh! Mingi, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, please keep going."

My breathing become more uneven and labored, my bangs stick to my forehead in sweat as that the knot in my stomach becomes tight, so close to snapping.

"Mingi! I'm cumming, I'm cumming, ooh!"

"Cum for me, baby" Mingi says as he gives one last harsh suck on my clit, looking into my eyes with the most lustful, ravenous gaze which pushes me over the edge.

"Mingi!! MINGI!!! Mingi-i-i-i...."

I breathlessly moan out his name as I come down from my high, he greedily licks my aching cunt clean of my cum, moaning as he tastes it.

"Goddamn, baby, you taste absolutely divine, even better than I've imagined."

He gets his head out of between my thighs, my cheeks burn as I see his face covered with my juices. I use my fingers to get all my nectar off of his face, he hungrily sucks my fingers as I put inside his mouth, groaning as he relishes in my taste.

Immediately after, he crashes his lips against mine with a hungry, needy kiss, I let him inside my mouth and have reign over my tongue as he puts my legs around his waist and carries me to the bed.

He lays me down on the bed, rolls me around so my butt is facing him. He grabs and kneads my ass slowly so he can have a feel of it, soon enough, I yelp in suprise and pleasure as he slaps each cheek of my ass, sending shivers down my spine. "You have such an amazing ass, Y/n. Are you ready for my cock, baby?"

"Yes, yes, yes, I'm ready, I need you inside of me." I enthusiastically nod as I plead for Mingi. "Get on all fours, baby, don't put your head on the mattress, bunny." He orders as I obediently comply to him.

He takes off his belt, takes his huge cock out of his pants, making my eyes pop wide open in shock and worry that it might hurt or not fit. "M-Mingi, w-would it fit?" I ask him, worried and scared. "Don't worry, bunny, I'll make it fit. I won't hurt you, I promise." Mingi reassures me, rubbing my right shoulder. He then spreads my lower cheeks apart, rubs his tip, dripping of pre-cum on my dripping entrance. "Oh my God, you're soaking wet." He moans out. Slowly and carefully, he pushes himself into me, tears prickle in my eyes at the almost painful stretch. I roll my eyes a bit and let a choked moan when he's fully inside of me. Mingi gives me time to adjust to his monster cock.

"Are you ready for me, bunny?" Mingi groans. I nod, looking at him with pleading eyes. Not even a second after that, he slams his cock into me, making me cry out as a result.

Soon enough, Mingi's thrusts becomes more hard hitting, rapid and desperate, he moans into my ear, sending chills down my spine, making me even more wet than ever now.

I yelp and whine as I feel his bulge in my stomach and how Mingi's throbbing, hard dick feels inside of me. "Baby, you feel how hard I am for you? That's how you make me feel, you have no idea what you do to me. I wanted to...nnnnggh...to fuck you like this...ssss...for a very long time...aaah." Mingi desperately moans into my ear.

That alone drove me dangerously close to my second orgasm of tonight. Our moans and whines fills up the room to the brim as Mingi's thrusts becomes sloppy and hurried. "Oooh baby, please...sss...I'm so close, I need you to cum with me...sssss...I need to cum inside you, please." Mingi begs me, so needy to have his long awaited release inside me.

Immediately, the familiar knot came very quickly tightening rapidly, ready to snap. "Oh Mingi!! I'm cumming, I'm cumming, cum with me..ooh..now."

Mingi and I yell and whimper each other's names as we cum together, feeling his hot seed inside of me while soaking him with my cream.

I scream without any hesitation, tears of pleasure fall out my eyes, leaving my mascara running as Mingi pounds straight into me, not allowing me to recover from my precious orgasm.

"Mingi! Mingi, please, please, please."

He continues his relentless pace on me, both of us wildly moaning, too lost in the entangling pleasure to care if anyone can hear us.

"Y/n, you're gonna make me cum again, I can't s-stop, I c-can't control it." Mingi needily whines.

Soon enough, when that knot in our stomachs snapped, we came again together as I collaspe with my face on the mattress.

'MINGI!!! Baby-y-y...."

"Y/N!!! Y/n...ssss...baby"

Mingi rolls me around as we recover from our highs so I can look at him, face to face.

"I'm not done with you, bunny" He reminds me as he puts my legs on his shoulders. He look at me directly with small hints of lingering jealousy, lust, passion, desire and even love(?) when he states this "I'm going to give you what no other man can give to you, ever."

Suddenly, he once again slams himself into me, making me scream out loud again as I arch my back from his immediate thrust.

Our moans and whimpers freely flow across the room as Mingi beats up my slutty cunt once again with hard hitting, rapid thrusts.

"Y/n..ssss..tell me. Can that Jason bastard fuck you better than I can, huh? Mingi grunts.

"Nnn..no, he can't." I weakly moan.

"I can't hear you." Mingi growls out as he even further sped his thrusts.

"NO, NO, NO!! He can't, he can't, he can't!" I scream and sob out of pleasure as Mingi went even faster than ever before.

"Damn fucking right, he can't. You can't get enough of me nor my dick, look at how your pussy sucks me in, baby." He grunts, pointing his chin at my pussy. I lift myself up a bit to take a look, my cheeks burned profusely at the lewd, obscene view of Mingi's cock disappearing into my cunt.

"You wanna cum for me, baby?" He moans out. I rapidly nodded. "Then look at me in my eyes while I'm splitting you open, ok bunny" I nodded once again and laid back down on the mattress.

Mingi continues his merciless pace, loudly moaning as we both look into each other's eyes. The knot in my stomach start to develop for the umpteenth time tonight.

Mingi's moans soon turn into whines and whimpers as he's close to having his release. My head is full of him fucking me into the next century when he moans out "Y/n, w-would you-fuuuuck-be mine?"

I get a bit out of my daze when he says this "Y-Yours, as in?" I whine, not completely sure of his question.

"Y/n, would you..haah..be my girlfriend?" He breathed out. This completely snaps me out of ny daze. "Yes, yes, yes!! I would be your girlfriend." I cry out of pleasure and pure happiness.

Mingi brightly smiles at me accepting his confession. "Baby, I need you to cum with me, I'm gonna cum." He whimpers.

Our whimpers becomes more desperate and high pitched as the knots in our stomach are about to snap once again.

"Oh fuck, baby, I'm cumming, cum with me at the same time." Mingi cries out.

"MINGI!!"

"Y/N!!"

We both scream and sob each other's names as we came down from our most intense orgasm ever with our foreheads touching each other.

We take a while to recover before we get up. Mingi slowly stands up to get a towel and a water bottle, he cleans me up with the towel and gives me the water bottle to drink off of. "Thank you, Mingi." I rasp as my voice is worn out from all the screaming from earlier.

"Anything for my beloved girlfriend." Mingi coos as he pecks my lips. "Goddamn, it feels so good saying that." He breathes out in pure bliss.

Suddenly we hear a strangled, muffled cry from outside Mingi's hotel room. "The fuck is that?" He questions with a puzzled look on his face as he gets up from the bed.

"Mingi, can you help me up, please? I can't feel my legs anymore." I call for him, reaching my arms out in his direction. "Alright, bunny, I'll help you up." He chuckles in fondness. I wrap my arms around his shoulders as I walk beside him towards the door.

He opens the door and tell me why do I see Jason, tied down to a chair with duct tape around his arms, legs and mouth, with his swimming shorts on?!

Jason rocks side to side on the chair, muffled cried come out of him with a traumatised look on his face.

"What the fuck is Jason doing here?!" I exclaim, all bewildered by what's in front of me.

I hear giggles on right side of the corridor, me and Mingi go outside of his room to see Wooyoung and Tatiana snickering with their hands over their mouths.

"Which one of you came up with this?" I ask them, pointing at the mortfied man tied on the chair.

"Her idea." Wooyoung replies, pointing at Tatiana, leaving Mingi and I pleasantly suprised. "I thought it would be a good idea to get back at him for calling you a slut when you rejected him, Y/n" Tatiana smirks, shrugging her shoulders. "It certainly was, thank you, Tatiana." Mingi replies.

He then turns to Jason, still feeling humiliated after what happened (as he should be.) and fiercely glares at him. "You better know your fucking place, you asshole." He growls, still furious at Jason's verbal attack towards me from hours earlier. Terrified out of his mind, he rapidly nodded his head, shaking in his chair.

"Let's get going, baby" Mingi says as we walk down to the after party.

"See, I told y'all Mingi and Y/n would end up having sex, I mean, look at her makeup!" Tatiana giggles, pointing my face.

"Oh man, Tati's not lying, Y/n's lipstick is all smudged." San chuckles.

"And her mascara is all over her cheeks." Wooyoung snickers.

"She really looks like she's been fucked." Yeosang grins as the rest laugh while examining my face.

"Hey! Cut my girlfriend some slack, will ya?" Mingi replies in my defense, making everyone else stop dead in their heels and snap their heads in his direction, completely taken aback by what he said.

"Girlfriend?!" The Ateez members yells out in pure shock.

"Mingi......repeat what you just said." Denise says, stunned, as she and the rest of the girls come closer to us.

"Y/n is my girlfriend, we're a couple." Mingi confirms.

"Oh Hallelujah! The Lord has answered my prayers!" Denise shouts in pure delight as she raises her hands in the air.

"Well motherfucking finally! Took y'all long enough." Mia added.

"I'm so happy for the both of you." Simone beamed at the great news.

"LET'S CELEBRATE!" Tatiana cheers as she calls the Dj to turn up the music.

I smile ear to ear in pure, unadulterated joy, Mingi looks at me into my eyes with genuine love, he holds my chin to pull me into a loving, passionate kiss as the music plays in the background.

At this point, I don't care if I'm called the most deplorable of names anymore due to being the only female member or Mingi's significant other because I have him, the members, the rest of my friends and that's all that matters.

Happy (belated) birthday to @almightyddeonghwa and @callmeghostly!!!

Taglist: @jeon-ify, @ja3honey, @bunnliix , @itsnotmydejavu , @yourfatherlucifer , @holybibly , @beenbaanbuun , @whatudowhennooneseesyou , @shinestarhwaa

343 notes · View notes

angelwhisp3rs · 5 months

Text

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐒 obsession

Pairing: ID!Leon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Training the rookies was a pain until he met her. His sweetest new obsession, he wouln't stop till he was buried deep inside her.

Tags: smut, fluff, age gap (not too much! i imagined leon being 37 and the reader being 23-25, so everyone is legal and consenting! Its not his age in ID but i use it only bc of the character background), p in v, eating out, riding, breeding kink, leon is obsessed!, a small housewife kink.

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ on repeat: exo - obsession

Notes: Got too excited and posted without proofreading it! If i missed anything, please let me know so i can correct it! Also, when will tumblr make a pastel pink theme for the dashboard? I hate that everything we have is either a sad/gloomy hipster or raging gothic theme.

From all his years working at the D.S.O, Leon was stressed pretty much all the time, never catching a break, too exhausted. That showed on the increasing wrinkles forming from his frowns, and the occasional white hair that appeared on top of his head. In his non-existent breaks, he had another thing on his belt: training the new agents.

At first, it was a pain in the ass, watching those morons do the same mistake over and over, it really made Leon think it was getting too easy to be a D.S.O agent. Some repeated the same mistakes over and over again, and because of it, Leon frequently lost his patience, soon getting known as a hardass.

As time went by, he began losing hope for the future of the department, until she came through. Pretty body, voice as soothing as a canary and delicious lips that called for him. And the best thing was that she was better than all of these morons, throwing down even the experienced rookies.

Since Ada, Leon didn’t know what it was like to be this obsessed with a woman. He wanted to know her next step, have her by his side all the time, know how her soft skin feels underneath his rough fingertips. He dreamed of her, and caught himself checking her out more than he should. Chris always teased him in private, telling him “his star student is making him turn back to his twenties”. God, they had a small age gap, but thinking about it only made his cock throb. Maybe dealing with rookies made his mind turn him back to his twenties.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

As their “graduation” got closer in time, all the new agents began training more, but none were like her. She came in first and left after all of them, always using the training gym by herself the most she could. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Leon offered private training, becoming a private tutor to her.

Instead of making things easy, it just caused him to become even more addicted to her - he now knew her thoughts, her quirks and her perspectives. As they spent more and more time together, it was clear that she found him attractive too - he knew he was still successful with women, after all (even if he was more dumped than anything). Leon had cemented in his mind that he needed her, and now he just needed to find a way to approach her.

She will be all his.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

One of the nights, he had to spend in his office reading and filing boring documents, Leon heard a gentle knock on his door. “Come in” he simply answered, and to his surprise - and excitement, it was his little star. She entered his office, and her usual sparkly eyes were dull, the poor thing was too tired, working herself too much.

“What happened, rookie? You look exhausted. Working too much to bring me down?” Leon said with a smirk

“Ha, you wish, sir.” Oh, how that term made his pants tighten. “I just came for help, I don’t know. I’ve been focusing on sharpening my skills for the admission test, but I don’t know…” she said unsure

“Hey, don’t tell the rest, but you’re the only one that I would bet on getting in” he reassured her, standing up and taking a seat beside her in his couch “You’re too much in your head, agent”

“I know, I just can’t turn it off…” she whined, making Leon think how she would sound if he made her cum around his cock

That 's it. That was Leon’s chance to get his favorite student. He put a hand on her thigh, not too close to her precious cunt and said quietly to her “It’s alright, sweetheart… I can help you, if you want”

She knew where this was going, and it turned her on more than she thought. Feigning innocence, she pulled a strand of her hair behind her ear, nodding “But… How, sir?” and looked at his lips

Leon smiled, caressing her jaw “let me fill your mind, rookie. Why don’t you sit at my desk, hm?”

She stood up and slowly went to his desk, sitting on it and letting her head fall to the side, as if to question him “what’s next?” with her body language. Leon follows her, standing between her legs and letting his hands caress the outer side of her thighs. His face lowers to her neck, his kisses and his stubble causing a warm sensation to run through her skin. A soft gasp left her lips, her hands caressing the back of his head.

Feeling him smirk against her skin, he kept placing slow and gentle kisses, adding some nibbles on the mix “That’s what my best student needs, right? A real man to touch her”

He lays her on his desk, pushing his papers aside, pulling her hips into his - his cock adding a nice weight to her sensitive wetness. He slowly pushed her shirt up, watching her beauty for a moment “You’re perfect, baby”. As he whispered the praise, her cheeks blushed more, a soft giggle leaving her lips. He finally kissed her lips and both were hungry for each other, to quench the thirst they had been accumulating after months.

Leon swiftly undoes her bra, not wasting any time and circling his tongue around her nipples, sucking and lightly nibbling it. Underneath him, her breath quickens, as she whines freely as he teased her. Trying to ease their ache, Leon grinds their centers together, his cock so hard that his zipper presses against his member.

Soon, he removed her pants, kissing as her skin showed - inch by inch. Again, his stubble creates goosebumps in her legs, as he worshiped her body - she deserved it, after all, he wanted to make her addicted to him and his taste. Watching her panties so drenched as they were glued to her pussy, he couldn't help but nuzzle into her bundle of nerves, causing a gentle jump on her. He kissed and licked the wet spot, as if trying to eat her up.

“F-fuck, please take them off, sir” she whined, not even realizing that she kept the term. Leon, deciding that he wasn’t in a teasing mood, guided the clothing down, letting his pretty star all spread on his desk - his to take, to tease, to fuck, to breed.

“Shit, baby girl, you are so wet for your teacher… you wanted me to take you, right? You wanted me to go crazy and drench my face with you. huh?” He teased her as he got on his knees, aligning his face against her cunt. She was so red, puffy and wet, not even the most delicious candy could compare to her.

His tongue tasted her at first with kitten licks, causing a loud moan to rip from her mouth. “Keep quiet, sweetheart. We don’t want anyone coming here and seeing you spread out like a needy slut, right?” at his comment, and as if teasing her, he finally sucked and rolled his tongue around her clit, letting his index finger circle her wet entrance. Almost as if she was distressed, she cupped her mouth with her hand, rolling her eyes back at the pleasure.

Pushing his finger forward, slowly, until he's entirely inside her, he kept eating her out with gusto, as if he was a starved man. Soon, what was one finger turned into two, her juices were flowing through his palm as he began to be more desperate for her - but he wouldn’t stop till she let him taste her entirely. “It feels good, doesn’t it, my doll? I’m the only man and only one for you, gonna make sure to keep this pussy satisfied till I die”.

His fingers and mouth worked more ferociously, pussy drunk wasn’t even close to describe how he was feeling.On the other end, she had tears in her eyes as one hand didn’t leave her mouth as the other one tugged his hair hard, making him moan against her drenched cunt. “S-sir, o-oh g-god…need to c-cum!” she pleased, looking down at him with glazed eyes.

“Do it, baby girl, give it to me” he ushered her, maintaining the pace till she finally coated his fingers, tongue and mouth with her essence. As her ‘little death’ came, she felt as if fireworks erupted inside her mind - none of her exams daring to creep up on her mind.

He praised and marked her thighs as she came down from her high. The girl pulled Leon into a passionate kiss, smiling in contentment, reaching cloud 9000. Pulling away, she whispered against his lips “Let me repay you, Leon. Wanna make you feel just as good”

“Not today, doll.” He whispered, sitting back in his chair and pulling his pants and underwear down, patting his lap “I know how to help you even further”, he said with a wicked glint in his eyes.

Like an excited bunny, she hopped off his desk and jumped into his lap, resuming her kisses on his mouth - casually descending into his jaw and neck, enjoying the pleased hums that he lets out. He palmed her ass and firmly grabbed it, giving some gentle smacks as she had his fun with him. To Leon, in all of his life, that was his happiest moment: having his pretty princess on his lap, all naked, hypnotized in kissing and feeling him up.

“Go ahead, baby, let me finally empty your mind and use you” he calmly ordered her, caressing her cheeks adoringly. Soon, she positioned herself and slowly sat down on his cock, rolling her eyes back and holding into his chair behind him.

“S-so b-big…” she moaned, her head falling into his shoulders as the girl swallowed all of him. She was so tight, wet and perfect, Leon almost came deep in her cunt just by her inserting him. His head got dizzy for a moment, his hold on her ass tightening, as he grunted and pressed his eyes closed.

Dedicatedly, she began jumping up and down on his cock, their skin slapping as the woman looked directly into his eyes. If anyone saw them at that moment, they would attest that both had heart in their eyes. her tits jumped up and down in front of him, making his tongue and fingers play with them as the couple lost their minds in pleasure.

“Good job, doll… jumping on my cock like the good girl you are… it’s all for you, always for you” he said rambling in pleasure, busying his mouth to tell her praises and roll her sensitive nipples on his tongue, as her cunt drenched his cock, causing a white ring at the base.

Holding tightly into the back of his chair, her hips worked even faster on him, making Leon moan more frequently in pleasure, slapping her ass, leaving behind his handprints on her pretty skin. His head falls back as he watches the goddess in front of him taking what's hers and milking his cock into her hungry pussy. He would make sure that she passed her admission check, so every end of shift he would breed her cunt, till she is finally all of his - the mother of his children, his pretty wife. But that’s a talk for later.

After some minutes pass, Leon takes over and thrusts from below, making her body turn into his own ragdoll, her moans flowing freely into his mouth. Some minutes passed, and both were on the brink of their orgasm, so close to reaching their true paradise “Will you let me fill you, doll? Make your womb so full of me, gonna make you get home with me drenching on your legs” he taunted her.

Not handling much more teasing, and his words serving as a catalyst to her peak, she nods and coats his cock with her sweet arousal, biting down on his shoulder to drown out her sounds. Her roughness and the new tight hold on his cock makes him spill into her gummy walls, emptying himself. Finally, he marked her as his. His doll, his love, his property.

Both were coming down from their highs, trying to control their breathing, letting their heartbeat slow down. He caressed her hair, kissing her cheeks and nuzzling their noses together, all smiles. “So, did I help?” he asked jokingly.

“Didn’t even know why I came here” she answers teasingly.

From now on, Leon would never be exhausted for the wrong reasons ever again.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #leon x reader #leon smut #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #infinite darkness #leon kennedy infinite darkness

783 notes · View notes

oneshlut · 7 months

Note

SORRY! i originally asked on the wrong post! My bad!

Hello!!!! I have no idea if this is the right post for requests, but i reqd your overjoyed headcanon and absolutely adored it! I love your writing style already! I originally had two requests, but for now ill go with one, with the Amazing Didgital cricus blowing up, i found favoritizim in the mean purple rabbit, i was wondering for some Jax crush headcanons? I loved your other one, and if its no trouble, id love to read it! Have a lovely day/night!!

A/N: omgomg!! it warms my heart hearing that people are enjoying my writing! thank you so much for the request, i hope you don't mind that i sprinkled in some confessing headcanons in there.. enjoyenjoy!!

Input Feelings (Jax x Reader) [Headcanons]

Rules For Requesting

Characters I Will Write For

Masterlist

Summary: General Jax crushing and confessing headcanons

Nothing irritates Jax more than someone new. Sure, a new fella to add to the prank list, and yet, another re-do of the theme song. So seeing you spawn into existence, scrambling around fearfully, made him feel both amused and annoyed. Let's just say he started out with mixed feelings for you. Mind you, these are just judgements. He hasn't even met you yet. Rude, I know, but it's Jax.

Meeting you went way better than he thought! You actually didn't find him annoying? That was a change of pace for him. Of course, not like he minded. Not at all! Looks like he'll have a new sucker to prank after all.

Although Jax was amused by you, you sure weren't. Not on the second day, at least. You had been talking with him earlier that day, and he wouldn't shut up about insects. Weird, you'd think of all people to be ranting about insects, it would be Kinger. Until later that night, or at least you thought it was night, you opened your door to find spiders in your bed.

And thus, you became Jax's main target for pranking! Hooray..! Yes, you liked his company--he was actually pretty fun to be around! But, uh, you prefer your outfit to not be soaked from a water bucket by the end of the day.

You two became frenemies. Sometimes, days went by where he wouldn't prank you. Shocking, I know. Jax just didn't wanna be too harsh on you, y'know? Which is weird, because Jax doesn't go easy on folks very often.

On days where he wouldn't prank you, you would sometimes receive notes from him. It was a good spirit lifter to go to your room at the end of a long adventure and see the corniest dad joke ever written on a piece of notepaper with crayon writing, sitting there on your bedside table. And on good days, you'd even write notes back for him!

One day, Jax gets either asked or teased about how he's so fond with you, and so rude to everyone else. He either makes some dumb excuse or tries to raise suspicion on the person asking, like the asshole he is, but it gets him thinking. He doesn't like to think. He's a man of action. But you were a.. different scenario.

Before, he was this complete asshole. And that's it, really. But you did something to him, something that he had no idea what to do with. Caine's gotta be messing with his coding, right? Maybe he input feeings in his code just to be mean. But being mean was his thing! God, what have you done to him..?

You, at the time, had no idea you were stripping away all of his confidence. As far as you knew, he has just been a bit nicer recently. Which was good! Right? Right. The notes would've been obvious proof he was getting better. Well, first, he was sending more notes rather than.. bugs.. but second, the notes started getting nicer and nicer. Some were just straight up compliments. That's when you noticed something was off. Jax never complimented anyone. Though, you didn't mind some of the compliments...

It's not like Jax has never been in love. He knows he had some sort of love life when he was in the real world, but he was left with just wisps of what it actually felt like to love someone. To care for someone. Though, now, he's finally able to remember.

You noticed how his teasing significantly decreased the more you spent time with him. You kinda missed it, but you're not one to complain.

Jax, on the other hand, was on edge all the time around you. He hated that you washed away his confidence facade, he hated how soft he was around you, how vulnerable. But that smug smirk wasn't gone just yet. He had one more "prank" to pull.

Ha, he wishes it was a prank. It really wasn't. This was actually the most serious he's ever been. He stared at the crudely drawn purple heart on a piece of scratch paper, only now doubting everything he's ever done as butterflies arose in his digital stomach. Standing outside your door, he suddenly felt all the nerves coming back to him he never thought he'd have to feel again. Jax swallowed down his nerves, but still couldn't hide the flush look on his face--or the fact that his pretend-guts were being tied into a bow.

Inside the small homemade card was an admittance to something he never thought he had to admit. Something he'd rather admit in person. Instead, since every inch of his confidence was gone at this point, he confessed in horrible handwriting, written with crayola twistables.

Jax took one final breath before sliding the heart under your door.

815 notes · View notes

thatdeadaquarius · 7 months

Note

imagine if reader is given an ancient scripture from around the time humanity founded out how to write and do the alphabet (somehow it was preserved so well that you can still see the words with no issue)

and it's the most heart wrenching, soul crushing, tear inducing, hyperventilating, sanity disappearing angst, misunderstandings, hurt/no comfort, it gets worse but never better, major character death, unrequited love story to have ever existed in teyvat.

and after reader goes through the whole thing, they can barely talk or breathe properly with how much they're crying.

(even better, it was smut not angst and reader is staring ar the scripture, jaw dropped to the floor with shaking hands.)

STOP- I avoid fanfics like that at all costs 😭 id stop reading it after the first angsty event LMAO

Im like... too emotionally affected by fanfics, esp angst ones 💀

Its just, ppl who write closer to my generation or just very psychologically honestly, are like fucking deadly writers. Got my day ruined and shit w/just fanfics 😭

LMAO THE GIF IS JUST YOU ON THE SPOT NOT EVEN HALFWAY THRU-

☆

Sun: Gender Neutral Reader (you/they/them)

Orbit: Short! Headcanons-ish

Stars: my first of the Fontians!! Fontainianes? Fontainains?? u get it

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: sobbing, discussion of vague smut/NSFW book at the end, okay for Teen/Mature audiences, & Trigger Warnings: none known.

no but it’d be hilarious if u got this crazy like hand-width deep tablet for each “page” of the book, like how every novel or info in genshin is like one page at a time 😭

Sumeru and other international academics are literally constantly harassing politely requesting your translation of these and sending them to you in whichever country you’re visiting at the moment

Fontaine was even more complex and pretty in real life than it could ever be in game and i can def see you at like Neuvillette’s office or a nice french fontaine cafe and just WHAM

huge ass tablet bc as much as the fic tortures you, you have to know what the fuck happens to these miserable idiots

Neuvillette, Clorinde, and Lynette are all the type to immediately try and dissuade you from reading it again, bc from their point of view you just pull out this huge old rock and start sobbing quietly about 10 mins into the read every time 😭😭

(unsurprisingly, Neuvillette would even go so far as to get the Marechaussee Phantom to sneakily steal ur most recent tablets of the story to hide them, which sucks for you LMAO)

Freminet, Wriothesley, Navia, Lyney, and Furina,all frantically try to distract you, and also theyre in order of who would be the most dramatic w/it lmao

NO BC I JUST HAD THE THOUGHT-

Ur tears absolutely are top priority to Neuvillette and Furina so when they inevitably find the memories in them (and the traveler too maybe)

of what the story is about, except its like all the feelings and stuff, so like its the best “translation” they get of the book so far, u best believe it rains for a week straight

it started out as a light drizzle, but as Neuvillette “read on” in ur tear’s memories if got worse HAHA

mans is out here trying to convince himself like, “this is a classic tragedy from eons ago, its about a human romance, im definitely unaffected, though im glad i could figure out what ails My Majesty so”

meanwhile the story gets worse and its just like that meme “ohHHhhhHH its got a little kiicckkk”

Neuvillette nearly floods the streets by chapter 5 when the miscommunication happens and then they cant get in contact with each other to fix it lmao

LMAO I JUST HAD A VISIONNN

ur in fontaine and while yes drinks were popular (like obv fonta)

business is rlly booming bc now everyone you know (like the Vision-users or archons Neuvill, etc) all have develop this habit of having a water bottle or drink on them to offer you when u start reading to rehydrate you 😭😭😭

Navia, Clorinde, Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Lyney, Lynette all have a handkerchief on them at all times too 😭😭

Good God-

the moment you translate the now instant Shakespearean-level tragedy classic, it is a known tear-jerker thruout all of Teyvat,

like theres trigger warnings and age limits and shit 💀

◇

on another note,

if its smut,

ur desperately combing thru all the tablets and wall carvings and cave paintings to try and lowkey cover it up LMAO

and its not like a story with a smut scene either, its like what anon said,

just fully like the ao3 tag “Porn What Plot/Porn With Plot”

STOP

not u yanking the tablets out of Neuvillette’s hands when he curiously picks them up one time lmao

(he is now invested in getting these translated too bc of ur reaction lol)

☆

consider supporting me with an iced coffee? :0

Spooky Season! Spooky Season!! Spooky Season!!!

still not dead btw

just got hired at my new job so ive been training and busy!! :)

im a host at Olive Garden lol its weird and kinda hard, my feet hurt a lot and i havent had a full shift yet ;-; its a brand new one so it opens the 23rd

dw that eldritch one shot is still coming btw, just talking with betas and editing it now lol

hope if you read this you have a great upcoming weekend!!

Safe Travels Anon,

💀♒

☆

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

☆

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657

#hello #its me #reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated #if anyone was reporting my death #ironic bc of my user #<3 cant wait to post that one shot #hope u guys will like it #its the eldritch au 1000+ followers celeb if u remember #sagau #genshin isekai #genshin imagines #genshin sagau #genshin impact #aqua asks #my asks #genshin impact sagau #genshin self aware #genshin x reader #gender neutral reader

571 notes · View notes

yan-lorkai · 2 months

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/yan-lorkai/720655214474035200/good-evening-if-you-dont-mind-id-like-to-hear

Okay so what about this but the reader got a hysterectomy or got her tubes tied before they met without him knowing? How do you think the boys would react? Like let’s say they didn’t have the (new) surgery where you could transplant another woman’s uterus to get pregnant. What would they do if they found out she couldn’t get pregnant anymore?

☆ A/N: Interesting concept, I hadn't thought about it before :o. Wrote this for Malleus, Leona, Rook and Riddle. Let me know if you want a part 2 with other characters, darling!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Yandere content, pregnancy talk, hysterectomy, afab reader (no pronouns used).

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Malleus would be indifferent - not because he doesn't want a child with you. But because it is still possible for you two to have a biological child without you necessarily being pregnant, as dragon fae eggs can only be brought to existence through pure love. Though not in the conventional way, your child will be born as he did once, hatching from an egg, nurtured with the love you both feel. But, in the scenario that this possibility also couldn't happen, he would be devastated. He really wanted to have a family with you and it's just not possible anymore. His dreams are shattered and he needs a moment to recompose himself, you can hear thunders for days on end. Deep within he wished he had met you earlier, that he could keep you from making this surgery. But what's done is done. Though he wonders, could he regrown your uterus with his magic?

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Leona is apathetic about it. It was not a priority as he liked having all your attention on himself, but even someone like him had imagined how your child would look like. Would they have your eyes and his smile? Either way, when you tell him that you got a hysterectomy due to health problems and couldn't get pregnant, he just kinda nods and goes on as if he hadn't heard that at all. It's not really a big deal to him. If you want a child so bad then you can always adopt one or two, even three or four.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Rook is so dramatic about it. He write many melancholic poems in your honour for some reason, coming from a big family you figured he would be more shocked or something. But he is chill with the news, just affectionately annoying you and draping himself all over you. After all he knows he can still tie you to him even without a baby. However he does daydream about you, fuzzy face from sleep and with bed hair, holding your baby at night, singing to make them sleep. He kinda wishes it was possible though, he wanted to be with you through each and every stage of your pregnancy. A pity.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Riddle is clearly unhappy with the news. Like, it is true that there are some diseases and syndromes that require partial or total removal of the uterus or cutting of the uterine tubes. Whatever your reason for having that surgery, Riddle respects that, he even asked you if you were suffering from something. But he still feels sad knowing that he won't be able to have children with you, though he will never tell you that to not burden you with his unnecessary thoughts. But it's noticeable, the way he sighs and stares at the wall for several minutes, or how happy he is when he can take care of his friends' children. It's obvious even. Every happy couple have a child but you two. So if you can't get pregnant, Riddle wants to adopt.

188 notes · View notes

hisaame · 8 months

Text

— ⧽➻Wanderer with a crush!˒˒ˋˋ

『its how i think wanderer would be id he had a crush,,, and this takes place obviously after he stopped being 'scaramouche'.』

╰ˊˊtw: soft wanderer (help), cursing, wanderers past trauma (kabukimono/kunikuzushi) its just a lil bit tho, spoilers.╎ + its a wanderer x reader type shit, so he falls for you!

He thought it couldn't be possible, but it happened. he was already upset at himself for allowing himself to spend time with you. And with those soft and sweet smiles of yours, he'd almost always looks away—and what you wouldn't notice was his his blushy pink cheeks that would always fade back into his normal pale, color when he'd turn to look back at you, tilting his hat a bit to hide his own smirk.

The guy had even known you when he was once Scaramouche, you'd catch his eye from time to time, but he never really thought about talking to you. Back then he just thought of you as a 'pretty girl', then he'd scoff and turn away. He even wished he'd gotten the chance to have one chat with you before he deletes himself out of existence as Scaramouche. You always seemed to look at him with that cheerful smile. But he's glad he got a chance to befriend you, and now, as a normal person.

He didn't even think puppets could fall in love, nor did he think his porcelain face could turn red! But it began happening more often often the more he hung out with you. Being a wanderer made him not be busy—unlike his past self as Scaramouche who always had things to do. He despised that old part of him, but now he's a changed man alright. He's still vedy cautious and trying his best not to show any vulnerability, he wouldn't wanna remind himself of the rime he was a pathetic, dumb doll who allowed himself to be betrayed.

But he wouldn't let you betray him, no. You're stuck with him.

He didnt exactly understand the concept of „love“. He's seen couples in Sumeru and didn't quite get why they were so affectionate, prepping kisses on eachothers lips and always holding hands. He'd sometimes even cringe at it. Even imagining himself like that with you felt weird... Wait, whys he thinking of it in the first place!?

After finally accepting the fact he's in love after days of trying to convince himself he isn't, he began to think—would you feel the same? That thought made him anxious, if you saw him as only a friend. If he really wanta you, he'd try.

And he did.

He'd go to the library more often, looking for romance books and even looking arouns him to make sure noones looking. He doesnt wanna be caught reading something so embarrassing... He read a few stories, even some tips and tricks on how to flirt, which he found pathetic. Who would wanna say "did it hurt when you fell from heaven" to someone they like? Pathetic! But as he read some romance stories, short and simple, he just couldn't help but imagine how it would be with you... How soft your lips would feel against his, and they way your twos fingers would intertwine.

And then he tried some things out.

He has tried pinning you against a wall, fortunately getting a reaction od you having a small blush, but then brushing it right off and smiling like he didn't do anything. Then he even grabbed your chin between his indec finger and thumb to make u look up at him—and you didn't even have a reaction! Wasn't that something common people did to get people to be flustered!?

He was beyond frustrated, even ended up asking Nahida for some help, to which she happily recommended for him to write you a letter, if he was too scared to say what he wanted it in person. 𝖧𝖾 called it pathetic and stupis, and a waste of time at first, but then he immediately began writing one after.

It took him so many tries, so many crumbled up papers on the ground, to the point Nahida also helped him come up with words to write. At last, finally, he decided to be sneaky and put it in your mailbox, knowing you will be opening it soon. He was a flustered mess as soon as he was rushing away once he put the letter in.

He'll definitely be even more flustered if you tease him about the letter the next day... ♡

#wanderer genshin #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact #genshin #scaramouche

587 notes · View notes

hoonvrs · 15 days

Text

REWIND — p. sunghoon

PAIRING sunghoon x gnr

DESC. break ups were never easy, especially with your first love. after some time, moving on became easier.

GENRE angst, is this considered hurt no comfort??

WARNING break up, moving on

W. COUNT 0.6k

S. NOTES i love angst so much

FOR. 1/2 jangkku ( @okwonyo ) celestial ballet event!

— rewind by twice

i don't want to know how you're doing.

it's so strange how someone i used to care so much about became a stranger to me so suddenly. the days i spent worrying if you had eaten, if you had gotten enough rest, if you were taking care of yourself in between your training.

now, i'm not curious about you.

as irresistible as it was back then to search your name, and catch up to what you're up to, now i don't care enough to even think about you anymore.

i couldn't help but hate you back then. you took away me who was so beautiful, the one who used to love with her whole heart. the one whose heart couldn’t tell the difference between love and you.

loving you felt so easy that even the thought of losing you back then would feel as if my heart was ripped out of my chest and thrown against the wall like it meant nothing.

so why was our breakup so easy for you?

after everything i did for you, why did it seem so simple to leave me behind like that? the one who went to all of your skating events and even your training? the one who supported your decision to become an idol long before anyone did. did my sleepless nights reassuring you amount to something that meant nothing to you?

did the times id leave anything and anyone behind just for you amount to nothing in the end?

our relationship wasn't as beautiful as the movies, but it was perfect to me. it might've been the ordinary love that every couple experienced but it was different because it was ours.

did i not even deserve the truth that you were joining some survival show to debut, after telling me every little secret about yourself was achieving your dream so precious you couldn't even think to share it with me?

back then i'd tell myself that it was your agency that caused our separation, but then i remember how empty your eyes looked when you told me it was over. no explanation, only to see your face plastered on a tv screen a week later.

i hoped you were maybe going through what i was going through. barely eating as the taste of my tears on my tongue seemed to fill my appetite, the salty taste becoming so familiar i almost forgot what it tasted like without it.

but you seemed so happy. laughing with all the others, singing and dancing without a care in the world as if i never existed. like you beginning was in the building and not with me.

funnily enough, i do thank you in some way. your indifference snapped me out of my love haze and turned my sadness into anger.

why did you get to be happy? what about my dreams?

so i found friends that loved me, i even started seeing someone briefly.

got into my dream university, studying what i love.

and i partially thank you for it.

i'll continue to create new memories and experience things i deprived myself of in the name of loving you until you completely fade away.

keep you in the past and make sure you never touch my present.

prove to the younger me who was so full of love that my world didn't revolve around you, that my life continued and will continue without you. that i know a love that isn’t tainted with your name. that one day if the information that you were struggling found me, i'd be able to sleep comfortably knowing you are not mine to worry about anymore.

park sunghoon. even if i could rewind time and try to make you love me longer, the much more beautiful me now has no interest in you anymore.

you may have had my love once before, but you will never get it again.

you will never take away my beauty ever again.

perm taglist @mesopret @whoschr @haknom @shinsou-rii @redm4ri @lacimolela @llama-lyna @boyfhees @lazysmushi @flwoie @kocokookie @kyexvly @seongclb @dammit-jjk @flwrshee @produmads @teddywonss @aleiouvre @dneltrise @aleiouvre @nyxvrse @yohanabanana @whois-alexis @tinyegg @sserafimez @satsuri3su @yuemvi @chirokookie @idk-tbh777 @s00buwu @ynsvnte @isawritesss @sleepyxxhead @ramenoil @jaeyunluvr @wifeherupnow @2jisungs

151 notes · View notes

farfromstrange · 2 months

Text

Interview With The Vampire | Vampire!Matt Murdock x F!Reader

-> Main Masterlist

Pairing: Vampire!Matt Murdock x F!Reader (she/her)

Summary: You are the first journalist to interview Hell’s Kitchen’s resident vampire vigilante after he requested you personally to tell his story. He’s offering you a way out of your miserable job—to make your voice be heard. You’re desperate and curious, so you decide to take the risk. Most people only know him as Daredevil, but you are about to learn who’s really behind the mask. How hard can it possibly be? As it turns out, interviewing a vampire is a lot more complex than you expected it to be, and Matthew Michael Murdock has set his mind on ruining you for any other man to come.

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), alternative universe, blood play, marking, scent kink, slight Dom!Matt, unprotected p in v, oral f!receiving, biting, vampirism, angst, religious imagery & symbolism, Catholic guilt, mentions of violence, allusions to suicidal thoughts, lots of plot, age gap

Word Count: 12.2k (this is a beast)

Other Characters: Vampire!Elektra (mentioned), Ben Urich (mentioned)

A/n: I finally got this one edited. This is a beast, y’all! I drew inspiration from Anne Rice’s Interview With The Vampire, but particularly the 2022 AMC series (I fell in love with it then and there), but it’s not based on it, so I just played around with the idea and this came out. It’s a lot, but it wasn’t enough for a full-blown series, so you’re getting a big ass One Shot instead. I used my usual Smut tag list, but since this is slightly Dead Dove Do Not Eat, heed the warnings and proceed with care! Don't read it if you don't want to. Anyway, I hope you like it!

Read Me On AO3!

The sun has long set over the Big Apple. Artificial neon, cars, and ceiling lights burning in the highrises along the riverfront cancel out the darkness that has befallen the country’s east. Noise melts into a flood that rolls over people’s senses, but most in New York City have grown numb to the city that never sleeps.

Sirens follow cacophonies of screams. Teenagers get into clubs with their fake IDs, adults get drunk in bars or go to work the night shift at their underpaid jobs, and the other half cry themselves to sleep, knowing they will have to get up in the morning and go through the same hell all over again.

Life has become a miserable existence, and it leaves human beings wondering, ‘How much longer do we have to endure this before we all finally drop dead?’

The system fails them. The law fails to protect them. All they can do is lie down and wait to die. And they will die sooner or later. That’s inevitable.

In Hell’s Kitchen, in a penthouse with a view of the Hudson through colored windows that gloss over during the day and show the city throughout the night, resides someone who most of the city only knows by an alias—Daredevil.

If anyone crosses him, he will suck them dry. It’s not a metaphor, I’m afraid; his reputation precedes him. Criminals fear the red eyes that come with fists and a sharp set of teeth that will surely run them into the ground. The rest of the city feels a little safer with him, but so far, no one has dared to question his nature.

Fear is known to work as a paralytic. And this man living in the penthouse by the Hudson is the personification of what one might consider fear-inducing. Without the fear of others, he would not be thriving.

An apex predator like him lives for the thrill of the kill. When the adrenaline spikes, it makes the prey start running and the blood taste so much sweeter. It is to a creature of his kind what a good glass of century-old red wine would be to a human being; he savors every last drop of it.

Two years out of your Master’s degree at Columbia University, you have become one of those hard-working adults who fall into bed later than they should, and you lie awake at night, wondering how much longer you have to exist before you can live.

You interned at the Bulletin; you ran the true crime and mystery column for over a year before the newspaper shut down. A billionaire from downtown Manhattan bought it to start his own magazine, and you were the only employee he didn’t fire. Instead of relying on your top-tier education and experience though, he has banned you to the lifestyle and beauty column. He’s a beast if you have ever seen one.

On a Monday in June then, after the sun has risen and is now falling again, you find an envelope on your desk. You glide your fingers over the fancy paper. The letters are written in handwriting that resembles the old letters from the 18th century you had the pleasure of using as research material for your Bachelor’s thesis.

Your heart skips a beat. Could it be…

It is no secret that vampires exist.

Over two decades ago, scientists published papers on the existence of blood-sucking creatures after years of valuable research, and now governments around the world have set out to burn the inhuman species out before they can cause any more damage. Vampirism though is older than humanity itself and unless law enforcement has evidence of homicide, vampires have the right to exist amongst humans.

They are excellent at hiding their true nature, that much is true. The lore that has been passed down since the beginning of time is only partly true. They know how to adapt and rise from the ashes like elegant phoenixes. The misconceptions surrounding their existence stem from fiction, horror, and fear, but they persist.

And a rule has been established in society ever since the truth was revealed: don’t talk about vampires!

Don’t talk about them unless it’s in a fictional context. Don’t put your research out there. Don’t fraternize with them. Don’t risk becoming prey. Don’t be fascinated by them, and God forbid, don’t you dare write articles about them for the public records. If you want to know about vampires, you have to dig, and you have to do so quietly or society will deem you crazy and a freak.

The worst thing to be is not a flying android or a super soldier with a shield; the worst thing you can be, in this day and age, is a vampire.

You were a curious child who turned into an even more curious adult. At times even a bitter one because she couldn’t get the answers she yearned for and had to do it herself. So, of course, the We Don’t Talk About Vampires rule came across as rather absurd, learning about it back when you were merely a teen.

You started researching, and you found out more than you thought you would—more than you thought you could. You wanted to cover the issue in the Bulletin back when you still worked there, but since humans were raised to fear the very mention of vampires in the real world, no longer romanticizing the concept but rather running from it, the truth shall remain hidden. Again, that seemed absurd, but you had to accept it to get ahead.

You kept researching to the point you convinced yourself you could be one of them if you tried. You felt like you understood them, but nothing could ever fully answer all of your questions to the point it felt truthful. Honest. Real.

Growing up, everyone told you dead things aren’t supposed to walk. They aren’t supposed to breathe and exist among the living. They are cruel, and vampires are killers that leave trails of bodies the government is hiding from us. Greediness exceeds common sense. The human mind tends to get sick and twisted, and those who don’t fit in hardly ever stand a chance.

Hell’s Kitchen is particularly quiet on the issue. Rumor has it that the vigilante chasing criminals at night and leaving the worst of them dry at the shore of the Hudson while, at the same time, surrendering those he deems worthy of rehabilitation to the authorities, is one of those vampires.

They call him Daredevil; the savior of innocents and the downfall of the vile. Only a handful of people know who he is. The truth is caught in a spider web of lies, unable to come out unless someone were to tell his story for the world to hear.

That Monday in June when you open the mysterious envelope on your desk, everything changes.

He addressed you personally. Your name resembles a masterpiece, the letters swirling at the edges.

You don’t know me, but I know you.

It’s strange to read your name out of the mouth of a stranger.

I must admit, Miss, I’m a big fan of your writing. And I’m not talking about the lifestyle and beauty column Mr. Doherty of the ‘Silver Lining’ has confined you to.

No, I am a big fan of the work you used to do for the New York Bulletin. I remember your name headlining many articles on crime here in Hell’s Kitchen—a column my late friend Ben Urich used to call his home.

It’s a shame that the paper was shut down. I tried to prevent it, but the disappearance of half of humanity and Wilson Fisk’s irreparable damage to the city’s foundation tied my hands.

The token female journalist reporting on unsolicited beauty advice and lifestyle choices no one is going to follow in the days of social media and fake marketing. It must be frustrating, right? Not having a story to tell. Not getting recognized for your impeccable talent. The Bulletin gave you a platform, but Mr. Doherty and his goons took that away from you.

What I’m asking myself is, are you satisfied? You were probably imagining a different future for yourself. A woman of your caliber must want to be more than a mere object used to make a bottomless magazine look better on the market.

Excuse my overstepping. I read one of your essays on the magical and the mythic—lore versus reality—the other day, and it inspired me. My life has been taking quite a few turns lately, so I required some new… let’s call it insight.

You don’t know me, but I am one of those creatures you are fascinated by. I’m the kind of creature people have been telling you not to write about because the weak minds of the public would not receive it well. The Catholics, the church, the fragile and fearful human beings that can’t imagine anything in fiction being real and want to remain the superior species—trust me, I know what it feels like to be backed into a corner. To be abandoned. To be underestimated. Not quite like you, I admit, but I have a few years of experience in and with this world to show for myself.

I imagine you’re tired of your position. I imagine you’re dissatisfied with human idiocy. You crave answers to your questions. Questions you have been asking yourself ever since college failed to answer them. My kind is being censored—partly for good reason—but that doesn’t sit right with you, does it? To live life in a monotone line with no clear way out of this boring rhythm you have had to fall into?

I can offer you a different path. A story. Answers to your questions. And the unfiltered truth of a 242-year-old man.

You are going to find a card with my address attached to this letter. I can assure you, sweetheart, we both want the same thing. I will wash your hands if you wash mine. Think about it, and come find me when you have made your decision. Preferably after the sun has set.

Yours sincerely,

The paper crumbles in your hands, but only at the corners. Your eyes are glued to the lost drops of ink, the blue blood of an old fountain pen caving under too much pressure.

He chose his words carefully. Every paragraph circles around your head. You breathe in, and it suddenly feels as though the whiff of the unknown is an inhalable drug, twisting your brain inside out.

The pull threatens to submerge you in a stormy ocean. You’re flailing your arms around helplessly, but there is nothing for you to hold onto. All buoys have drifted into oblivion, leaving a sea of utter emptiness behind, and in the midst of it, there you are, drowning.

In a moment of clarity, you fold the letter back down on the desk. It lands with a thud, and you look around frantically, checking if anyone is watching you. They aren’t.

M. That’s all he’s giving you. And the fact he is over two hundred years old proves the rumors to be true. He’s standing by it, but only to you. He wants to reveal himself to you, show you his true face for a story, but he’s a vampire.

You’re alone. You can wash his hands, but is just showing up enough for him? You don’t even know him.

You’re in trouble. This time though, you didn’t even do anything. You did your job, and he caught an interest in you. How does that work?

Your heart skips another beat. It should not, but it does. The danger is exciting. It shouldn't be exciting. You hate what your body is doing, but how can you make it stop? You can’t. You can’t do anything but take it.

This stranger has got you in a chokehold, but in his hands, you might as well surrender to your certain demise. You don’t consider vampires inherently evil, but there is a reason people warn you not to walk alone at night in Hell’s Kitchen. He’s dangerous, no matter his nature, and he is not supposed to lure you in the way he does.

But you’re a curious kitten, and he is offering you the holy grail of answers to questions you have been grappling with for years. He hit the nail right on the head. And it doesn’t even scare you how well he knows you.

This is a gold mine. Realistically speaking, telling a vampire’s story could make or break your career as a journalist. If you do it for the magazine, you’re done before you can even bring your words to print, but if you do it individually and you do it well, people will certainly eat it up. The question is just, are you going to play your entire life safe, conforming to your boss’s view of you until you get the freedom you crave, or are you going to take the risk and fly?

The answer is as clear as day, but it takes you a moment to process. It’s as though someone is in your head, steering you in the direction of whoever this M is. Daredevil. This vampire who wants you to interview him, and for what? That’s still an open question you don’t have the answer to. But you do know what to do.

You scramble for your laptop, your notepad, and the letter in the envelope. The clock strikes four. You have another two hours on the clock, but you can’t be bothered to stay.

Upon hearing the sound of your shoes hurriedly scraping against the linoleum floors, one of your colleagues turns in her chair. “Where are you going?” she asks.

“I, uh, have somewhere to be,” you tell her as you brush past her.

“What, now?”

“Yeah. I forgot I had an appointment.”

“What about Mr. Doherty?”

You stop on your way out, looking back over your shoulder. “If everything works out,” you say, glancing through the window to his office at the other end of the hall, “He’ll have my letter of resignation by the end of the week.”

She gasps softly. “You’re quitting?” her voice is barely above a whisper.

Almost sinisterly, you chuckle. “That’s the plan, yeah.”

“But—”

“Tell your daughter Happy Birthday from me. I gotta go.”

Your steps echo for minutes still, but you are long gone with the wind.

Silver linings are considered an advantage that comes from an unpleasant situation. The name has proven to be entirely unfit for the magazine that replaced a big piece of Hell’s Kitchen’s history. The Bulletin had cultural value as much as it was laden with decades of the city’s stories told to the average person.

Wilson Fisk was the dynamite that sent New York alight. The Bulletin’s destruction was mere collateral damage in the fight to get the city back on track. You have had so many reasons to leave presented to you, yet you never took them. If you had, maybe you wouldn’t be here, making bad decisions on what started as just another Monday in June.

The fact is though, you didn’t leave, and you are here now. Facts are what matter. They count. Your hypothetical past, present, and future have no place in this reality because you can’t travel back or forward in time. Vampires may exist, and the Avengers time-traveled to save the world, but things aren’t quite as easy once you look at the bigger picture. You are not a superhero, you’re just a journalist chasing the kind of story that will finally make her voice be heard.

You know that Ben Urich, at least, would be proud of you.

His address weighs heavy on the small card you pulled out of the envelope earlier that evening. You passed it on to the cab driver, and he began to navigate the dark streets of Hell’s Kitchen. The luxury condominiums in this part of the city can be counted on one hand. You know exactly when you’re there.

The sun has once again set over New York City. You’re wide awake, not quite sure though if you’re ready to face what you are walking blindly into. Even your driver refuses to take you past a certain point, and that is how you know that you’re not dreaming. This is real, and it’s supposed to be terrifying.

How come you’re not scared then?

You slip twenty dollars to the cab driver, then climb out of the backseat. The salty air from the Hudson River a few blocks down wafts around your sensitive nose. In the distance, you can hear waves crashing into the docks as the wind picks up in speed. The boats must be moving wildly by now, swaying from side to side and possibly even making the fish in the depths of the water seasick. You would be if you were them.

With every step, you grow closer to your target. On second thought, maybe you should have brought more than just a pathetic bottle of pepper spray and your precious laptop. You could have brought your grandfather’s cassette recorder, at least that would leave a mark if you hit someone over the head with it.

Do vampires get concussions? That is another question you can add to the seemingly endless list in your mind. It’s a confusing place as of late, and the weird sense that someone is playing with the controls won’t leave you alone. Either you are overthinking, or you are worse off than you originally thought.

The apartment complex the card directs you to stretches high above you. You look up, seeing not a single light on. That’s odd, you think, but then again, you are meeting with the city’s most notorious man. If he is who everyone says he is, and if the rumors are even true, that is.

As you are about to approach the entrance, your fingertips start to burn. A gasp escapes past your lips. Staring down, the cubical piece of paper goes up in flames. You are mere feet from the door, nowhere near close to an open source of fire, and the card starts to burn like a wildfire.

You pull back, your heart hammering against your ribcage. The ashes fall to the ground, but before they can hit the asphalt, they vanish.

“What the–” before you can finish, the doors before you swing open toward the inside. The lights turn on. Someone even has called the elevator for you.

Another step forward, and a voice stops you. “Fourth floor, down the hallway, first door to your right,” the voice says through the speaker. Only then do you notice the lack of a doorbell.

Everything in you is screaming for you to run, but you are rooted in the spot. He dragged you here with a mere letter, and you were more than ready to jump. Desperation was the only thing that drove you here. Your brain seems incapable of rational thought.

What if that is what he wanted all along? To get you complicit by playing on what you so desperately need, which is a story and a way out of this boring everyday life that is threatening to slowly kill you.

He’s like a siren, luring you into his deadly trap, but even knowing all of this, you still can’t find it in yourself to run.

The second you enter the building, the door shuts behind you, and your only way out is officially locked. You made the decision; you have dug your own grave, possibly quite literally, and now you have to lie in it. It’s better to die chasing a good story than dying at a desk in an office that doesn’t respect you.

You are a disgrace, you can hear your father’s voice in the back of your mind. He always warned you not to be too reckless or your bad decisions will eventually catch up with you. He always taught you not to trust strangers, and to stay the hell away from those who disgrace God, but you have never cared much about being a good girl.

Your thoughts are as morbid as your obsession with the walking undead. It is time you embrace what people are already saying about you.

The elevator ride feels like an eternity. It goes up and up and up until it finally stops on the fourth floor. The walls smell like nothing but a faint hint of bleach. It’s clean, parquette not carpet, and the walls are kept in a shade resembling a mixture between crimson and maroon, and it is blending into a sort of marble.

The metal doors slide open. Again, you hesitate. A sweet whisper echoes in your ear, dragging you toward the edge. You breach the border between the elevator and the hallway that waits behind it. The voice is distant, and it doesn’t sound human—it reminds you of a siren’s song, calling for you. He is calling for you, and a fog settles over your mind. You’re not in control anymore, he is.

You imagine him to be an old man, possibly middle-aged. Vampires stop aging when they’re turned. Their mind doesn’t. You’ve read the research plenty. They are wise beings, more intelligent than human beings could ever fathom. That makes them dangerous.

Their venom rivals the intoxicating feeling of heroin, you’ve heard, and it heightens your senses to the point all you can feel is the one who bit you. Research suggests it’s a million times stronger than an orgasm, for both the vampire and the human being.

Part of you has always wanted to try it. Part of you wants to know what it feels like to be sucked dry. You want to know what it feels like to be carried into a new dimension by someone who knows how to play the human body like a fucking piano, eliciting the sweetest melody through your very essence and the symphony of your moans.

This M—Daredevil—is inherently dangerous. He’s as mysterious as they come; a man in a mask lurking in the dark corners of Hell’s Kitchen every night, turning the fight for justice into his hunting ground.

It’s as though he curled his fingers, and you followed.

You walk the dark hallway down to the door on the right. Paintings litter the walls. Masterpieces, blotches of white, red, and color. You recognize the red marble as a decorative theme on the wallpaper. Tracing your fingers over it, the rough drywall scratches at your skin.

You reach out a shaky hand toward the golden knob. Before you can turn it though, the door already flings open. It must be witchcraft.

Red appears to be his favorite color. At least judging from the hallway, that is true. When you step into the room with a pounding heart and blood pooling in your cheeks though, the inside of the room is a lot more… human. You wouldn’t have guessed it from the gloominess surrounding you on your way there.

A leather couch and armchairs stand in the middle, facing toward the window front. Colored windows, as you have gathered from the rumors. They are see-through now though, showing the city skyline and the moon up high. The chandelier on the ceiling is the only piece of furniture you would consider old. Browns meet hues of blue and dark green, a forest at midnight, and you suck in a sharp breath. The apartment is beautiful.

You look to your left and see a bookshelf stretching the length of the wall. You can’t help but run your hand over the backs. You would have expected original editions from the 18th or 19th century, but when your fingers trace over the bindings, you are met with the bulging of Braille underneath the elegant golden writing of the titles. None of them seem to have collected dust. It surprises you to only find a mere handful of classics that haven’t been transcribed in Braille and a realization you did not expect starts to crawl its way forward.

“I stole that one from a library in Paris.”

Your racing heart stops beating. The book you’ve been holding falls to the ground, its worn-out leather cracking further around the spine. The thud is deafening. You gasp, turning around. Your shoulders fly up as the tension ripples through every last muscle in your bone. Your bones ache just from how stiff you’re standing, but you can’t move.

The man before you moves as quietly as a mouse. You didn’t hear him coming. The moonlight reflects off his dark brown hair, making it appear almost ginger. He’s wearing a simple suit without a tie, and the white of his shirt is as pristine and clean as the cut of his beard. You can see chest hair poking out from underneath the two open buttons, as dark as the locks on his head. His jawline is irresistibly sharp, leading up to a pair of plump lips he is wrapping around the brim of a crystal glass filled with rum.

Your heart remains frozen. Not a single drop of blood pumps through your veins, yet your cheeks burn brighter than a bonfire on a pitch-black night.

But his flawless appearance is not what catches your attention the most. Looking up into his eyes, wanting to know whether they are as red as those set into the devil’s mask, you find nothing but your terrified reflection staring back at you. It’s as blurry as the picture of your face in a still ocean’s water, your wide eyes staring back at yourself.

The red glasses are all you can see. Round with a black rim. Silver would have looked better on him, or maybe even gold. The black reminds you of an endless pit, a sinister embrace of vampire stereotypes, but you can’t look away from the maroon that won’t allow you even a glimpse into his eyes. They are shielding him from the world, and his eyes from curious, stupid humans like you.

He nods toward the ground. “You gonna pick that up?” he asks. His voice reminds you of rumbling gravel.

He looks like a man. He talks like a man. If you didn’t know better, you would say he is human. There seems to be blood in his cheeks and air in his lungs.

You have to pull yourself together. Clearing your throat, you bend down and pick the book back up.

“Thank you,” he utters your name. “It’s been a while since I’ve received visitors that don’t work for me.”

You put the book back on the shelf. Your lips are sewn shut; you can’t find the words. Every time you open your mouth like a fish on dry land, you close it again, and it is embarrassing to be standing in front of him with your guard down.

“Welcome to my home,” he says. You wish you could see his eyes to know if he’s mocking you. “Do you want a drink, or do you need another minute to process?”

He is mocking you. His tone is gentle, as is his voice, but he smirks like a smug motherfucker, and your anger boils to a tipping point. The candle is about to burn out.

“I–” you stammer. Internally, you curse yourself for being such a fool.

“Another minute it is then.”

You don’t need a minute though. “You’re blind,” you blurt out.

The beautiful—deadly—stranger nods. “Yeah.“

“How?”

“Accident when I was a kid.”

“But you’re…” you leave the missing part of that sentence hanging in the air like a noose.

“Say it,” he murmurs. You want to say it sounds like a growl, but you’re not sure. He isn’t asserting dominance or trying to force you into submission by scaring you away, but he is toying with you regardless.

You take a deep breath. The word, the truth, numbers your tongue and your lips with its weight. “A vampire,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, matching his.

His smirk broadens. He pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek for a moment, then releases it as it darts out to wet his bottom lip. “I’m a blind vampire, yes,” he answers. “We’re rare, but we do exist.”

Blind vampires. In all of your years of fascination, that has never crossed your mind. You used to believe that they had healing abilities that far exceeded your own. You were wrong. He lost his eyesight before he got turned into a vampire. He lived as a blind human being and didn’t regain his most crucial sense when he died.

He came back to life, but he died. It is surreal to stand across from him. He’s not just letters on a piece of paper, he is very much real. And he’s blind.

“Oh, my God,” you curse.

That elicits a soft chuckle from him. “I was starting to think you wouldn’t come,” he says.

“I was considering not to.”

He sees right through you with those empty glasses. “That’s a lie.”

“How would you know?” you counter.

“I can hear your heartbeat. The blood pumping in your veins…” His head tilts ever so slightly in your direction. You take a step back. It’s an instinct. “Your pulse picks up when you lie, or when you’re nervous, or both,” he states. “When you first saw me, your heart skipped a beat. It did again when you lied to me.”

Your eyes trail down to his thick thighs perfectly fitted in his tailored trousers. His thick digits pat the rhythm with his fingers on the fabric. Thud-thudthudthud-thud. You place a hand on your chest. He wasn’t wrong; your heart is racing.

His smirk turns into a smile, but only briefly again. It’s a glimpse of humanity he doesn’t want you to see. “I like that sound,” he says. “Has anyone ever told you that you smell good? Sweet, sour, and a little salty. Natural. You don’t use a lot of artificial perfume, but you like cherry chapstick.”

You swallow, taking a whiff of your arm. Besides your deodorant masking the scent of your nervous sweat, you smell nothing. How good must his nose be? His hearing? His sense of taste?

“Right now, sweat is dripping down your back, and your muscles are tense enough to strain against your bones every time you breathe. Your heart just skipped a beat again. You find it weird,” he muses. “I can’t turn it off, but I get it must be strange for you.”

“You–” The blood has collected in your head, pushing the temperature in the room to an all-time high. “Get out of my body!” you snap.

He laughs. “That’s a sentence I never thought I’d hear.”

“And I never thought you would ask for an audience with me, but here we are.”

“Here you are.”

You want nothing more than to wipe that smirk off his face. He looks so smug, standing there with his drink, wearing a suit too fancy for his own home. He’s fully in his element. It’s scary how alluring he is, too. You don’t want to think that way, but as soon as your eyes gaze upon him again, your chest contracts, and you forget how to breathe.

He’s a wolf, and you’re a lonely little sheep that doesn’t know any better. That lonely little sheep just wants to be a part of something bigger, even if that means surrendering herself to the big bad wolf. He wants a taste of her, and the sheep would give him that in a heartbeat if he just asked.

You blink. There is a voice in your head, and it isn’t your own. Far from it. You don’t want to be associated with this stranger. She thinks she knows you. She thinks she knows what you want—the sheep in the eyes of her natural enemy. This voice is the most irrational you could be, and you need to stop letting her win.

And yet you—not just the voice of the lonely sheep you appear to be—would follow this man anywhere, even to hell if he asked you to.

Your eyes drill knives into his skull, but they are also full of curiosity. Can he hear your thoughts? Your heart beats in your throat. You can taste it on your tongue. If you bit your lip, you would bleed, and he would probably fall into a frenzy. Still, your teeth dig into your bottom lip. What if he can hear your thoughts—hear how fucking needy you are? You’re pathetic. What he must think of you, standing across from him, smaller than human life itself.

You want to read him, but he is far from an open book. He’s not Braille you can run your fingers over, and even if he was, you don’t know how to read it. He’s an enigma. His face is set in stone; an iron mask you can’t penetrate.

His chest heaves with another chuckle. He sets the crystal glass down on the coffee table, taking a step forward. “No, I can’t read your mind,” he says.

You flinch. “What?”

“Your breathing pattern. The way you look at me. I can sense that you’re thinking about something.” He adjusts his glasses. “It’s just… Most humans ask me if I can read their minds, you know. I can’t. Some vampires can, but my senses are the only heightened ability I have.” This time, when he chuckles, a hint of bitterness dances in his voice.

“At least you’re not in my head then,” you say.

“No.”

“Good.”

A pregnant pause follows. You clutch your bag to your chest, your fingers digging into the frame of your hidden laptop.

“Can I offer you a drink?” he asks, pointing to his empty glass.

You wave him off. That’s the last thing on your mind. “No, thank you.”

Sometimes at night, you fantasize about diving into the abyss of darkness. It looks and sounds a terrifying lot like him. You want to know him. You need to know him. When it comes to him and this—whatever this is—the lines between want and need are blurring into an unidentifiable mess. It’s an ocean of emotions with no land in sight. A total eclipse of the heart, if you will. You’re losing your mind.

“What you can do–” You straighten your shoulder, hoping it will add height to your beaten confidence. “You can tell me your name. Sir,” you say.

He nods. “I suppose it would only be fair, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, it would.”

“Matthew. My name’s Matthew.” The softness of his features as his lips move to the rhythm of his words takes you back anew. His eyebrows raise slightly, and you catch a glimpse of a pair of beautiful, unfocused hazel eyes that steal your breath away.

Matthew. It is a name that easily rolls off the tongue. It suits him.

You repeat his name aloud. “That’s an odd name for a 200-something-year-old man,” you point out.

Matthew scoffs. “My parents were both Catholic.”

“I suppose you’re not?”

You hit a sore spot. His head dips, fingers running over his nails and tongue tracing his teeth. “Not anymore,” he says.

God died for him a long time ago, and all churches burned down.

Your grip on your bag loosens. “Then why Daredevil?” you ask.

His lips part. “I, uh, have the Bulletin to thank for that one. After centuries of existing in this world, and being despised for no matter what I do, I’ve decided to embrace it. I am Daredevil, not even God can stop that now.”

Matt grabs his glass, turning away from you. He doesn’t use a cane to navigate from the couch to the mini bar on the other end of the room. You carefully follow his movements. One of his hands remains at his side, snapping his fingers as he navigates the familiar terrain of his home.

He uncaps a half-empty bottle of Whiskey to pour himself another glass.

“You know, Matthew,” you prompt, daring to step forward an inch, “as big as your reputation is in this part of the city, Silver Lining is not the kind of magazine that would cover your story.”

“You still came,” he says.

“I could lose my job if anyone knew I came here.”

“And yet you’re here and not where you should be.” He turns his head over his shoulder. “You wouldn’t risk losing your job if it wasn’t important to you, would you?”

You stammer, “I–” He’s got you. You’re a fish with a hook in her mouth.

“If Silver Lining Magazine won’t cover my story, why are you here?” Matt turns back to you, leaning back against the shiny Mahagoni of his minibar. It offers a beautiful contrast to his strong physique and the slight paleness of his skin. “Could it be because you’re fascinated by the mythic?” he asks, teasing. “By werewolves and witches and vampires?”

It’s your turn to scoff. “I won’t confirm or deny. My boss wouldn’t let me write a vampire vigilante exposé even if I begged him to.”

“And that’s why Mr. Doherty doesn’t deserve you.” Your body visibly recoils when he pushes forward, moving just an inch toward you. “Your curiosity is a virtue,” he purrs. The moonlight sets your reflection in his glasses alight.

“Is that why you lured me here?” you ask him. “Because my curiosity is a virtue and you consider yourself better than the people in my life?”

“I didn’t lure you here, and I think you know that. That’s not what this is.” The distance between you starts to shrink, backing you into a corner. “I believe you came here because the thought of interviewing a vampire and sharing your findings with the world on your account excites you,” he says. “You want to be heard. You want to be taken seriously as a journalist, and you want to make people happy.”

The only way for you to come out of this with your pride and dignity still intact is to put up walls before the already existent labyrinth of walls keeping your heart guarded and your soul safe. “Again,” you ask, “why me?”

“Why not you? As I stated in my letter, I’m a fan of your work.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, about that. How did you write that if you’re blind?”

“I didn’t, my secretary did.”

“Of course.” Of course, he has a secretary. “I… I just don’t get it,” you say. “You’ve been hiding for so long–”

Matt cuts you off with an urgency you didn’t expect, “Things have changed. Circumstances…” he trails off.

“Wouldn’t it be a suicide mission?”

His answer is silence. You let out an exasperated sigh. “If you want me to interview you, you have to be honest with me.”

“I’m not on the record yet.”

“Right. Maybe you can answer this though—off the record, of course—how can you be certain I didn’t call the cops or the FBI before I came here?”

His eyes crinkle. “I’m not stupid, sweetheart,” he says.

He’s amused. You’re amusing him.

“Don’t call me that,” you growl.

He’s spreading you open, holding up a mirror for you to look into. It’s your miserable self in all its glory, and he knows you better than you know yourself.

You ignore the sharp pain in your left ribcage as you pull the arrow out of your heart. “Unless someone holds up a sign that they are pro-vampirism, how would you even know I’d listen to you and not just refer you to the Journal of Psychiatry?”

“Are you telling me you don’t believe in vampires?” Matt quips.

“That’s not… Answer my question!”

The sound of your heartbeat must sound almost like the rapid firing of a machine gun, that’s how fast your pulse is racing. Your veins threaten to burst with the excess blood. It’s a heat like no other. You’re a witch at the stake, and Matt is holding the torch to your gasoline-doused body.

He clears his throat. Your face falls at the words that tumble out of his parted lips, and the rapid firing turns into a deafening silence and a monotone line on a heart monitor.

“After what I’ve learned from reading Dr. Rice’s research on the phenomena of vampirism, I can confidently say this species is no different than an animal like the great white shark or the Homo sapiens sapiens—our kind,” he recites. “Vampires are a medium of fiction and propaganda to induce fear, but they are also a widely misunderstood species that is being silenced rather than heard. Our species, the human species, likes to consider themselves superior, even when we’re in a position of being someone’s natural food source. Dr. Rice’s research is based on a comprehensible set of facts, and isn’t that what we have been relying on ever since the beginning? Our psychology makes it possible for us to change the narrative in our favor, and more often than not, we ignore the very facts deemed by humans as an intellectual importance to spread the message of an entirely different agenda. Dr. Rice’s research only proves that egotism and humans themselves will be humankind's certain downfall.”

“My investigative journalism essay,” you breathe out.

“Published by Columbia University.”

Your heart restarts with a rush of adrenaline. “How… how do you know all of this?”

“I may be blind,” Matt says, “but I know how to read between the lines.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

The alcohol in his drink seems to have little effect on him. “I know you have questions, and I’m willing to answer them if you promise to publish a detailed report somewhere other than Silver Lining Magazine.”

You look down at your bag, then back at him. “Ben Urich could have told your story in a way that would’ve made people listen,” you murmur. “I don’t have an impressive career like him.”

“Yeah,” he smiles, “but you could have easily written ‘Attack on NYC’. Ben was a good man, an even better journalist, but he could not have written your college essay. And he could never have been you.”

Your name rolls off his tongue—not a pretentious nickname that makes you want to vomit but your name, and it flicks a switch within you.

You glance around the spacious living, pulling your laptop out of its confines, and you bridge the distance between you, finally. You notice he smells of sandalwood cologne and scentless soap. “Okay,” you cave. “Where do you want me to set up?”

Session 1.

The spacebar clicks underneath the tip of your index finger. The white of your screen fills with a series of red sequences as the microphone takes in every little sound around you. Except for the two of you and the fading footsteps of one of Matthew’s assistants though, the world has fallen silent in the dead of the night. He’s sitting across from you, legs crossed, head tilted; your life is about to change.

“So, Mister Murdock,” you begin, “tell me. How long have you been dead?”

His mouth opens in a wide grin. “242 years,” he answers.

“And what happened the year you died?”

“Well, it was 1782. I was a good few years out of law school. I was a good lawyer, but I wasn’t successful. That year, I met a beautiful woman at a banquet. I wasn’t rich—trust me, I was beyond penniless—but she had been adopted into a wealthy family, and that made her one of the richest women in the room. Everyone wanted her, but when I sensed her across the hall, she only had eyes for me. And she was the first woman to not see me just because I was blind.” He chuckles sadly. “I thought she was the woman of my dreams, the love of my life, but a few weeks later, after letting her into my life, I realized that she didn’t look at me that night because she was interested. She was hunting me. El— Miss Elektra Natchios…”

The year 1782 becomes apparent before your inner eye. As he tells you about the night he met her, you can see the dark-haired beauty making her way across the ballroom. Red lips and a gown to die for. Her dark eyes were full of mischief, but the passion in them could have knocked a grown man off of his feet. And that is just what she did to poor Matthew.

“I was going to marry her,” he tells you.

He went to church regularly. His knees were bloody from praying, his senses already heightened before he died. God’s soldier, that is how he puts it. He was told that the accident that left him blind happened for a reason, and he had to fight a war that went beyond the country’s fight for independence.

That summer, Elektra drained him. He didn’t know what she was. She fooled him. He was obsessed with her. Her dark eyes he couldn’t see lured her in, and it was the venom in her blood that became his downfall after she dug her teeth into him.

Matt tried to beg his priest for forgiveness, but he didn’t even make it past the marble stairs before the doors locked. He knelt in a pool of blood—both his and that of the first human he ever sucked dry to survive as a newborn vampire—offering an eternal sacrifice to Catholicism, but God abandoned him on his doorstep.

The church walls would have been set on fire if he had touched them from the inside.

You look up from your notepad to find him now standing at the window. He’s not looking out, of course, but he seems so deep in thought, the memories that aren’t your own but his start to dissipate, and you’re brought back to the here and now.

Matt poured his heart out to you. You expected answers, but not this kind, and certainly not of this magnitude. You see him in an entirely different light. He’s vulnerable, fragile, and human. He has endured trauma that killed him, but he couldn’t die because the woman he loved made him immortal. It’s a bigger curse than growing up with the belief that an accident made you God’s soldier.

He lost everything. For centuries, he has had to live with that. It’s killing you, feeling his pain, the pure agony that radiates off him.

Your voice is quiet when you ask him, “What was it like?” You don’t have to say it out loud for him to know what you are referencing.

Matt chuckles, the sound a mere breath in the atmosphere. “Like she took my soul from my body, setting fire to my belief system and already heightened senses,” he says.

You swallow. “That sounds… overstimulating.”

“It was. Is. My heart stopped, but when that happened, something else awoke inside me. The hunger… the hunger was the worst part. It’s insatiable. One hour passes, and you feel like you’ve been starving for weeks.”

“Like you’ve been possessed by a demon?”

“Like I am the demon.”

“But you’re not.” You should stop the recording. You’re not on track; you’re incorporating your feelings into Matt’s story, but you can’t help it. The words tumble out of your mouth without a second thought, a train that cannot be stopped.

He raises his eyebrows, you can see it in his reflection in the windows. “Are you religious?” he asks.

You shake your head. “This isn’t about me.”

“Are you?”

The veins on the back of his hands bulge as he balls them to fists at his sides. Your throat is a desert, and your heartbeat resembles a storm that burns right through it, sending the sand flying in all directions of the horizon.

You adjust in your seat, crossing one leg over the other. He takes a whiff. He’s smelling you, and that doesn’t help the speed of your pulse to calm down.

Tapping your pen on your notepad, you watch the red sequences fill the white space of the recording program. It moves with the sound of your voice when you finally dare to answer. “It’s a complicated question because there is a difference between believing in God and believing in the church,” you say.

“Do you believe in God then?” Matt asks. It’s as though he’s trying not to seethe at the mere mention of someone he used to worship. You make a note of that.

“There is so much bad in this world. So much cruelty. I can’t…” You take a deep breath. “I don’t know how to believe in a God that would let the things humans do to each other happen. If God existed—if he was as merciful as Christians like to claim, he wouldn’t let this happen. And I’m so sick and tired of people using their faith, and their beliefs in God and the church as justification to be disrespectful. I don’t understand it. How can anyone? Why is someone who has to drink blood to stay alive—someone who didn’t even choose this life—worth less and the devil’s breed when humans do worse things to each other? Why would God allow us to start wars that kill innocent people? Children? It’s just not fair that we treat ourselves and others as though we are already in hell, and we’re just supposed to accept that God doesn’t care—” You stop yourself, the tears burning behind your eyes.

Matt turns back around. You can’t look away. “When I was still human,” he murmurs, “I used to believe everything that happened to me was God’s will. The accident, God’s will. Me going blind, God’s will. I went to confession, prayed until my knees were bloody and bruised. I tried convincing myself that every scream I heard from down the block, every person who lost their life or their innocence was my responsibility. God made me this way for a reason, right?” The scoff is as bitter as the liquor in his glass. “I fell apart, you know. I was a kid, so I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand what was happening to me,” he tells you.

You hold your breath. The glasses slip from his eyes as he takes them off with shaky fingers. You are met with the most beautiful pair of hazel eyes. Emotions dance a heated tango in a tornado. If you look closer, the green specks bring life to his eyes. It’s human nature in the purest sense of the word.

Your reflection stands in his irises, his unmoving pupils, and the tears glisten in his eyes. They’re as red as blood, watered-down crimson essence. You want to reach out and stroke his cheek, but that would be crossing a very big line that you can’t bring yourself up to touch.

“I studied law because I thought it would change something,” he continues. You listen. It’s the only thing you can do—listen. “It wasn’t enough. Nothing I ever did felt like it was enough. I lost my father. Jack. I didn’t know my mother until it was too late. Maggie. I had no one. No money, no prospects, just me and those voices in my head, telling me I was supposed to be God’s soldier.”

“You’re not,” you cut in.

He shakes his head. “I prayed; I crawled up the stairs of the church, and I spent hours repenting for my sins. I bled myself dry for Him. I sacrificed myself. I sacrificed my youth, my heart, and my soul, and I got nothing back. I begged for help until my voice was sore, but nothing… God, nothing was ever good enough. Until Elektra came around,” he says.

“She changed everything for you. It makes sense. She turned you into a vampire, but she also loved you.”

“She did love me, in her own twisted way.”

“It’s what you deserved,” you say.

He isn’t yours, but the pang you feel in your chest is treacherous. Your heart cracks like a porcelain vase, jealousy creeping in like a parasite of toxic waste.

In response, Matt only chuckles bitterly. “She made me believe again, then took my soul and crushed it in her hand.” The correction makes your shoulders slump. “Instead of feeling like my world ended though, I felt at peace when she sucked the blood out of my veins and fed me her venom,” he says. “It’s sick, I know. I was aware I died that night, that she turned me into a devil who could only survive if he drank the blood of others. The Catholic in me struggled to accept it, but I had no choice but to embrace what she made me.”

“And where is she now?” you ask.

“Gone.” The light in his eyes has fully disappeared now. “I stayed with her for a while until she died in my arms. She showed me what love is, and she showed me heartbreak. She made me hungry for blood, awakening the devil I’ve been trying to tame. She taught me how to feed, how to hunt, and how to chase. But she also cursed me,” he says. “I only exist for myself now. I only bleed for myself. No God, no church, and no more religion. I’m not Jesus, I’m Judas, and I retired the cross the day I was crucified.”

You have run out of questions to ask. Too overwhelming is the sight of his walls crumbling down, this stranger you now know better than any living being seems to. You no longer see money in this, or a story to chase, you only see Matthew, and the halo above his head he still believes is a pair of horns. The world broke him. His faith in God broke him. It crushed him, and he lost everything. How broken he must be.

“Not such a pretty story when I say it out loud, huh?” He scoffs.

The spacebar clicks again. The recording comes to a sudden halt. One hour and fifty-eight minutes, the first session of your interview with the vampire. You need to put a halt to it now because what you are about to say or do as you reach your hand out to brush his cold, dead skin is not something that should be found on a record. And you won’t ever tell.

Matt pulls away when your warm fingertips brush his. You’re standing across from him now, so close he can smell, hear, and feel all of you at once.

Your touch is the holy water that burns his skin, but the fire sustains him and shoots straight to his core the same way the blood rushes to yours.

“It’s not a pretty story, no,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, “but it did tell me what I already knew.”

“And what’s that?” he asks.

“That you’re not evil. You’re not the Devil. You’re misunderstood. You’ve been beaten; you’ve been abandoned, hurt, and broken. That doesn’t make you a monster. Trying to make this city a better place does not make you a monster.”

“If you only knew the things I’ve done…”

“I know the rumors suggest that you were the one who fought Wilson Fisk and got this city back where it needed to be. You’ve saved countless women from the worst of fates. You are the reason the innocent people of Hell’s Kitchen feel safe. By picking up that mask, you became a hero, not a villain, and that is the story I want to tell.”

In lightspeed, he has moved you from the window to the other end of the room. Your back hits the wall.

Matt towers over you in all of his intimidating glory. His eyes spark red, but you hold his unfocused gaze. He has such beautiful eyes. This pull between you is far from human; it’s unhealthy, and it is exactly where he wanted to get you. You’re trapped, pinned underneath him like a deer caught in headlights.

Exhaling, your breath strokes his cheeks. He closes his eyes, savoring the taste of you. Every particle in the air, he inhales. His tongue darts out to lick his lips. Oh, what you wouldn’t do to suck that tongue into your mouth.

Your pheromones play his head like a puppeteer pulling the strings of his marionette. He growls. “Do you have any idea how dangerous I am?”

The moonlight catches his sparkling white teeth. This time though, you come face to face with the sharp edges of his previously concealed fangs. Your jaw drops open. He’s ethereal.

“I could snap your neck—” Matt places his hand on your neck, “I could make that heart stop beating, take the air from your lungs. I could eat you…” He traces the vein in your throat from your jaw to your collarbone. “I could bite you and suck your blood until you’re empty. I could kill you, sweetheart. My kind is your natural enemy. You shouldn’t be here.”

You shudder. His nose brushes the sensitive skin below your ear. He’s so close you can smell him. On inhale, and his scent consumes your senses. He is all you can feel now. You reach out to hold onto his arms, his muscles tensing under your teeth. He’s big and strong, and those hands have a mind of their own as they begin to wander but never where you need him most.

You shouldn’t be here, yet you came. He asked you to him, and you complied. Is this your fate now? Chasing after your big bad wolf like the helpless sheep that you are?

Your walls clench around an agonizing emptiness, your swollen clit brushing against your soaked underwear. Whatever he is doing to you, it’s the cruelest form of torture.

A strangled noise breaks out of the back of his throat, rumbling in his chest. “You have no idea how badly I want to taste you,” he breathes.

“Do it,” you beg. “Taste me.”

He utters your name again. “Stop.”

“Please.”

Your tone shatters him. When he kisses you, finally, fireworks explode in the universe around you. All the stars seem to finally align. Your heart opens, and it sucks him right into you. Your soul yearns for him. He’s so close yet so far away.

The moon stands between you, but you cross even that ocean as you push against him, forcing your tongue into his mouth. He takes like heaven and hell; he’s the apple Eve bit into and cursed her for all eternity. But he’s also the snake, the one who compelled you to take this journey of bad decisions and jump right off the cliff’s edge. You melt into him like a broken candle.

He pulls away. Those fangs are alluring, as sharp as a knife’s tip. You want to know what it would feel like gracing your skin, digging into your as he thrusts his cock into your tight cunt. The thought alone sends your mind into a spiral.

Your lips are swollen, but he has yet to draw blood. Matt looks as though he wouldn’t dare, his eyes darting around in a darkened conflict he feels might cost him more than your dignity. You are begging for it, as is your body, but he’s holding himself back. He’s the one who tied himself to an invisible pillar, keeping his hands locked behind his back. But that is not the Matt you want.

You lean your head to the side, exposing the length of his neck. All control has slipped from your fingers. It’s in his hands now—you are. He cups your head gently. A mere few inches lie between your fountain and his lips.

You press a kiss to his calloused palm—a desperate and needy kiss, tracing your tongue over the lines that tell his life’s story in a way no interview can retell—and it is then he is forever done for. He’s doomed, and you are the second woman to pull him under the pits of hell.

Saliva drips from his fangs. You hold your breath. He hisses, a weak admission of surrender; the words die miserably on your tongue when his lips close around your pulse point with all his might, and his teeth drive home.

You moan aloud. Your fingers tangle in his hair, forcing him deeper as he sucks the dark red essence out of your vein. The sensation is more than you bargained for. It’s a drug that wrecks your system. The synapses in your brain backfire with all their might, and what follows the initial explosion of pleasure shooting white hot through your being is complete and utter silence as this God of a man feeds on you.

The invisible string between you glows a bright crimson. It slings around you, tying you together like the roots of a tree. It’s an eternal sacrifice. You are giving your all to him, the very core of your existence that is now flowing into his mouth. You swear you can hear his thoughts mingle with yours. Yes, more, please. You taste so good. Your knees buckle, but you remain standing strong. He makes sure you don’t fall. Don’t slip away from me. I need you.

A tear rolls down your cheek. You could sob. It feels so good—too good to be true. In that moment, you become one. There is no telling where one begins and the other ends. The coil in your stomach tightens, and the only pain you feel is the pleasure threatening to overwhelm you. He’s taking everything as you give him everything, but it is not enough. It has never been enough.

When your body struggles to catch up with the lack of blood, he pulls away. His fangs drag out of your neck agonizingly slowly. You whimper at the sudden loss.

Matt catches you as you stumble into his arms. “You okay?” He cradles your face, brushing the hair out of your face. Your blood stains his lips. Blinking up at him, the force of your metaphysical connection slaps you awake.

You cease to exist in all solar systems but his.

He pokes the tip of his index finger with the sharp edge of one tooth, sliding it over the two holes that are pulsating with the work of your heartbeat.

“I shouldn’t have—” he begins.

“No,” you say. “You did exactly what you should have.”

“I couldn’t stop.”

“But you did.” You wipe the blood from his mouth. “And I felt you. I only felt you.”

The living room passes by you. Before you know it, your back lands on something much softer than a concrete wall. He’s not a monster, that one, but he surely is an animal.

You taste your blood on Matt’s luscious lips as he devours your tongue. It tastes of copper and a little bitter, but that is what makes him moan. That sound is the last thing you could ever grow tired of.

His palm rests on your chest. Your heart pounds against his palm. “You’re so alive,” he says.

You cradle his face in your hands. “And you’re more human than you think.”

If he wanted to pull your heart out and hold it, you would let him in a heartbeat.

He leans you back. He strips you bare. He kisses down your body like you are a fucking masterpiece for him to explore. That is how he sees you.

Your head falls back. The kisses wander from your hips to the inside of your thighs. Every kiss brings his breath closer to your center. Matt pulls them apart. He opens you up to him. Your scent clouds his senses, and he groans, but he doesn’t touch.

His fangs graze your skin. “Mine,” he growls.

You gasp. He bites into the sensitive flesh. Hard, passionately. Your legs wrap around his head, trapping him there. He sucks, and he sucks, and he drinks, and the wetness pools out of your cunt in an obscene amount. This is foreplay to him. It drives you toward the edge leading to an abyss you are afraid you might never be able to crawl back out of. There is no bottom, it is just a pit, and he’s pushing you closer and closer, and—

Your back arches, but he pulls away before the coil can snap into a million butterflies. He pries your legs away from his head, spreading them further on the mattress, as far apart as they will go.

Breakfast, lunch, and dinner have been served on a silver platter. He breathes in. The scent of your soaked pussy sticks to the hairs in his nose. It isn’t enough. He breathes in again, your arousal sweeter than fiction. You’re everything and more. He wants to taste that part of you more than anything, suck up the slick that is soaking the sheets—and you didn’t even think that was possible—but he waits because he needs to savor it. He doesn’t want it to be over too soon. neither for him nor for you.

The blood is still dripping from his tongue and his fangs, and the raw inside of your thigh. He runs his finger through it. The sting runs from the wound to your folds, then back down. Still, he doesn’t touch. He plays with the blood, sucking on his fingers until they’re clean, and then he dives back in for a taste. He doesn’t bite, he kisses and sucks, but he doesn’t push it further. He doesn’t hurt you.

You’re his saving grace; he has to worship you. Pain only has a place in pleasure.

“Matthew,” you moan.

He chuckles, kissing where his fangs left deep indentations. “No one will ever touch you again,” he purrs. “I’ll make sure of that.”

You try to protest, but the words die on your tongue when he leans in, capturing your clit with his hungry mouth. The wound on your thigh closes. The blood from his lips mixes with your juices, and you cry out at the intensity of it all.

He eats you with the ferocity of a man starved for weeks. He eats your pussy like he ate your blood, savoring every drop but still feasting for the taste to spread out in his mouth like wildfire. Sour, sweet, and copper. He sucks your sensitive clit into his mouth. His tongue drags through your folds, up and down, and then the tip slides inside, tasting your walls. He grows bolder as your moans accelerate.

Matt cradles your thighs. He forces your hips back down to the mattress, stronger than the average human man. You have to endure his beard scratching and burning, and the pace he has set.

The orgasm creeps up on you. Before you know it, he has plunged his tongue into you, and your body convulses around him. You scream into a pillow as you come.

You are each other’s forbidden fruit. No prayer in the world could keep you apart.

Faintly, you can hear him say, “Good girl.” Your legs quiver. He pulls away, then comes right back like a boomerang.

He’s warm now. He was cold before, but when he kisses you this time, he’s warm. He’s hot. You run your hands over his bare chest, the scars that lie under the dark strands of hair. You tug at it, and he moans. You can tell he is a little insecure, but by pressing your lips to one of the cuts on his shoulder, he relaxes.

What he must have endured, what he must have lived through before he died and was resurrected in the same breath, just without a beating heart—you don’t want to think about it or you will break, but you can still feel him through the crimson tie that holds you together, and you know that he has suffered enough for more than two lifetimes. You wish you could take it all away from him. You wish you could have saved him before it was too late, loved him more than the woman who turned him, but turning back time is an impossibility. You are both acutely aware of that.

“Hey.” Matt tilts your head toward him. “Where did you just go?” he asks.

“Thinking about you,” you murmur.

“Me?”

“You.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to be your salvation.”

You. His salvation. He kisses you, softly this time. He pours gratitude into his lips and bleeds them out in poetry as they slide into your mouth, and you swallow every last drop.

If someone had told you a week ago where you would see yourself on that particular Monday, you would have laughed at them. And if someone had told you a week ago that you would be making love to the devil, you would have called them crazy. But it’s happening.

He thrusts into you without a warning. His thick cock fills you like nothing and no one ever has before. Your cunt has been molded to fit him, you’re sure. You take him in, and you moan at the stretch. It’s a pain so delicious you could fall apart right then and there just from the feel of him inside you.

Every thrust drags the tip of his cock along your sweet spot. Every added sensation drives you closer to your death.

Your body tingles. He explores your face with his lips rather than his fingers, moving to your neck again. You cling to him, oh-so-desperate for him. He likes you like that, and you like him like that.

“You’re fucking with my head,” he tells you. “Offering your pussy to a vampire. Letting me drink your blood. Begging me to fuck you. You’re in my head, baby. Can’t get you out of my system. Fuck.”

You are his downfall, his salvation, but he is all of those things to you as well—all of those things and more. If he could read your mind, you would tell him that. Words can’t do justice to how you feel. Not right now, maybe not ever.

“Bite me again,” you beg.

His thrusts falter. He searches your body for any sign of regret. His fangs come out, and he buries them deep in your jugular vein. The floodgates open wide. Your walls clench around his cock, your clit pulsates, and the wave crashes into you.

You come as he devours your neck and your blood. You transcend into another dimension, far away from everything and everyone but never him. Never Matthew.

The sensation of you wraps around him like a weighted blanket. His balls tighten, your blood unfolding its taste on his tongue. You are all over him, inside of him, everywhere at once. He falls head-first, dragging you down with him.

He comes with a shout that is only muffled through his teeth buried in your flesh, his cum spurting into you and filling your cunt to the brim. Your eyes roll back. You’re flying and falling all at once.

Oh, how good it feels to be consumed by him. To be fucked and sucked dry. You would have never expected this to come out of your week, let alone your life, but now that it has happened, you are floating on cloud nine.

Dizziness threatens to take over, but before you can pass out, he forces himself away, allowing your heart to catch up with the lack of blood in your system. He collapses on top of you. His cock softens, but he stays inside. You need him there. You want him there. And that is the only place he wants to rest tonight.

He heals the wounds on your neck. “You have a mark,” Matt rasps, tracing your skin with his finger.

You choke out, “Yours.”

“Yes, you are.” He kisses you there. Once, twice, even a third time. “Mine,” he says.

You’re his. He’s yours. It doesn’t get any better than this.

The minutes tick away on the obnoxious clock on the wall. Matt pulls out eventually, wrapping you up in a blanket. He coaxes you to drink, but you’re barely lucid. Only when he begins to stroke your hair you start coming back to yourself. You thought you might regret it, but as you look at him, his almost guilty eyes staring back at you, all you can do is reach out for him.

“Session two tomorrow?” you ask.

He chuckles and retorts, “Have I not scared you away?” There is some truth to it though.

He’s covered in your blood. It sticks to his lips, his hands, and his chest. It’s sickeningly intimate, in a way.

You shake your head in response. “You could not possibly.”

He listens to your heartbeat. You’re as honest as they come.

“Okay,” Matt says. “Session two tomorrow then.”

That night, you fell in love with the Devil, but he also fell in love with you, his angel in the form of a reckless journalist, and the only blood he ever wants to taste again until the end of his miserable, cursed days.

Matt Murdock (Smut) Tag List: @shouldbestudying41 @theradioactivespidergwen @cheshirecat484 @1988-fiend @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-girl-has-n0-name @winkev1 @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x you #vampire!matt murdock #matt murdock angst #daredevil #x reader #interview with the vampire #charlie cox #alternate universe #reader insert

268 notes · View notes