#give it a few hours and they’ll be so much worse

[ickypuppi3]

sometimes i look at my other ships and i’m like yeah actually i want that for harringrove like maybe they should be two fucked up guys covered in blood maybe they should be grossly codependent maybe they should experience the worst day of their lives and commit some crimes about it why not

#it’s about the killing the maiming and the gay sex #the holy trinity #‘they’re toxic’ no but they’re about to be #putting characters that aren’t fucked up enough in a saw trap and setting an egg timer #give it a few hours and they’ll be so much worse #i want good things for billy but i also think he deserves to kill #so #? #sure the healing is great but what about the vengeance and the rage #harringrove #ickyspeaks

[ninyard]

I just saw a post wondering what Andrew and Neil’s first proper argument is, and naturally I have to offer this:

Andrew and Neil don’t fight. They’ll ignore each other if they’re pissed off - but never for more than a few hours, or maybe until one of them has slept it off and decide it’s not worth it (usually Andrew). They’ll have tiffs but never over anything serious.

Except for in the months coming up to Andrew’s graduation. That is when I believe Andrew and Neil have their first real argument.

Andrew gets officially signed to his pro team around abouts the February of that year. It’s in a state further away that Neil expected, and since they found out, Neil keeps catching Andrew looking at apartments or researching the state and the team. He’s happy for him, of course he is, but he can’t quite identify what this feeling in his stomach is every time Andrew brings it up. The little fights that last longer than their usually bickering start not long after; Neil getting more pissed off by the little things Andrew does, Andrew having off-days with Neil more and more often, each of them asking for their own space because they know if they stay around each other they’re going to start a fight. It’s gradual in a way that they don’t realise for a little while that it’s getting worse, until just after the championship finals, and the season is officially over, when three days have passed without them talking for not much of a reason at all. Neil used his finals as an excuse, but Andrew didn’t have any good reason. After those three days, they’re finally alone in their dorm for whatever reason, and maybe Andrew has started packing or he’s just got some sort of welcome package from the team: everything explodes. Andrew tries to kiss Neil, and something feels wrong, and when Neil asks what the fuck is going on, all hell breaks loose.

Andrew doesn’t yell, of course he doesn’t, but he’s venomous. He’s asking Neil why he’s acting as if the world is going to end just because he’s graduating, he’s angry at him for becoming so dependent on his presence, he’s angry at himself for feeling like he’s found a future in Neil when this was never the plan. He was supposed to be nothing. A casual fuck, with an end date and no feelings but fuck if he can’t live his life without him now. Neil yells, because he does, and he’s angry that Andrew still seems so unsure about what they are, how comfortable they were, but suddenly things are different, and it feels like he doesn’t care. He’s angry at himself for building his life around Andrew, but he’s the only reason why Neil Josten exists. Andrew reminds him of that, and it makes everything worse.

It goes on for far too long, quickly becoming meaningless and just an excuse for either of them to vent out the frustration they’ve been keeping inside for months.

“You know that I won’t overstep your boundaries,” Neil points a finger at him. “So in your head it’s okay to treat me like shit and ignore me because you know that I will give you that space.”

He doesn’t even really think that, but every little thing, every little excuse is multiplied by a thousand when he feels this red hot rage. He hates the things that come out of his mouth, but Andrew gives it back, and his insistent refusal to back down just further butts their heads together and infuriates them both.

“I won’t chase after you because you’ve decided to allow me distance,” Andrew says, calm and ice cold. “You can’t invent boundaries for me and then be upset that they exist.”

Lows blows after low blows, unfair quips and insults from both sides, slamming of drawers and doors and throwing of things; they have never, ever fought like this before. It’s over everything and nothing at the same time. Andrew knew it was only a matter of time before campus security was called, but when he tried to tell Neil to calm down and lower his voice, it only made things worse.

They’ve been unkind and awful with each other for about an hour when Neil finds himself starting to get so furiously angry thats he’s upset, that he can feel himself being needlessly nasty with Andrew. For the first time ever he feels the tilt. He feels their foundations getting rocked, a crack in the base of the pyramid of their relationship that gives him the feeling that this might not last forever. He leaves their dorm with a slam of the door, and goes for a run. He hasn’t done that in a while, a run from his feelings, running from his problems and responsibilities. He’s not sure how long it’s been before he finds himself too far away from campus, because he just ran in a straight line.

When he checks his phone he realises he’s over an hour walk away from their dorms. He almost calls Matt, and hesitates over Coach’s phone number, but instead he clicks Andrew’s name. It’s only ringing for two rings before the ringing ends and there’s a quiet hiss at the other end of the line. Neil double checks that he’s answered, because Andrew hasn’t said anything, and brings the phone back to his ear.

“Can you come pick me up?” His breathing is heavy, all of his anger drained out through his feet with every single step that he took to get further away from their dorm.

“Where are you?” Andrew is quick to respond, and Neil can hear him already picking up his keys.

Neil tells him the name of some bar that he can see, and Andrew hangs up almost instantly afterwards. Neil starts to put his phone away, used to the abrupt endings of phone calls, but wishing he would say something more. He puts his phone away and wonders why Andrew can’t just give him something. He’s not looking for a Love you! Bye! But maybe just an answer that let him know he was listening. but then it starts to ring again, and it’s Andrew, and Neil doesn’t say anything when he answers.

“I’m leaving now,” Andrew says. There’s something in his voice. “I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”

“Okay,” Neil responds. “Thank you.”

Andrew hums in acknowledgment, but this time he doesn’t hang up immediately. He hesitates, but he’s somewhere outside now.

“I will always pick you up.” He says after a while, after he’s shut his car door and the engine has rumbled to life, and maybe it sounds like I love you, I care about you, I need you. Maybe it sounds like I need you to know that i can’t lose this.

“I know,” Neil says, and it sounds like I can’t do this without you. “Thank you.”

Andrew waits a second or two then before hanging up, and Neil waits for him by the curb. Andrew is there quicker than twenty minutes later. Neither of them say anything as Neil slips into the passenger seat, and neither of them say anything as they pull away. Neither of them say anything until Andrew has switched the engine off, and the car is sitting in its parking spot. They look at each other then, and maybe then they understand what’s happening.

“I’m not above telling you that I don’t want to leave here,” leave you. “But this was always a certainty. You’ve had plenty of time to prepare.”

“I thought that I had,” Neil tells him.

It’s the truth, in some way. He realises then that all of these little fights, and growing agitation, and this almost primal urge to push Andrew away was how he’d prepared. He’s been trying his hardest to soften the blow that it would have on him, and if he pushed him away first, then it wouldn’t hurt when he inevitably pushed him back or let him go. Only, that was never going to happen, and that’s what made it worse - nothing could happen to them now that would not bring them back to each other. So when Neil pushed and pushed and pushed and Andrew was constantly hitting a wall instead of a door, all they were doing was filling the room with resentment.

They sit in the car then and talk about the reality: Andrew was moving away in just a few weeks, moving further away than they’d ever been apart. The truth was that regardless of whether or not Neil decides to spend the summer with him, August would come, and Neil would go back to PSU, and Andrew would stay wherever it was that he was staying. They’d been fighting more in a subconscious test with each other, to see if one of them were going to give up, to see it this was the thing that would finally tear them apart. They talk about that, too, as difficult as it is for Andrew to be honest about that kind of thing. Neil asks him if he thinks it would be better for them to break up, to give each other space, to let Andrew flourish on his new team and meet new people and grow into himself as a professional exy player. It’s the first time either of them have acknowledged the possibility out loud with each other, and it destroys Neil to ask it, and it destroys Andrew to hear it.

Andrew thinks about how Exy was supposed to be the deal with Kevin: how he was supposed to come off his meds, and Kevin would give him purpose, and he would find something to live for in the sport that would not love him back. Instead he gave him Neil. That was his something to live for, and while he’d started to learn how to live for himself, and he would eventually survive without him, he didn’t want to. He couldn’t. He would sooner give it all up just to keep him, and Neil knew that was the truth.

Neil thinks about how Neil was supposed to be temporary. Now it was the future, it was Andrew, it was a long and successful life. Neil Josten did not have an expiry date anymore. He could have things that were his own, things to keep, things to live for.

They knew it wouldn’t be easy, but as the evening went on, and they stay in that car and talk about the future, they’d truly come to the understanding that neither of them can lose each other. They will always be half of one another, and no amount of distance can change that. It’s hard conversation after hard conversation, and it’s emotional in the way that Andrew and Neil get emotional. All the fighting ends up being a catalyst for possibly the most personal, deep, intimate discussion they’ve ever had. There’s lots of silences and voices that threaten to raise but stay low. There’s a lot of questions, and answers, and questions without answers, too. Buts it’s needed. Andrew could not leave PSU without them having this conversation. If he had, I think they would’ve struggled a whole lot more with the distance, and the conversations they would have afterwards would’ve been far more difficult.

Ultimately that’s where they end the conversation sometime past midnight - with a semi newfound understanding of where they stand with each other, what they are, what the future means for them. It’s a fight that needed to happen, and in their own ways they apologise for the things that they said. Maybe they don’t say sorry, they just say everything is going to be okay, and distance will not be the thing that ruins this.

I don’t know. I really do think it’s a fight that’s needs to happen. I think it’s a terrible, angry, nasty argument, and they both feel awful about the things they said and did, but it had to happen. Yeah, could it have been communicated with words? Sure. But Andrew had to understand how afraid Neil was of losing him, he had to understand what Neil was doing to protect himself from it. And Neil had to understand that Andrew was always, always willing to fight for him, but he couldn’t do that if Neil wasn’t willing to see that he would.

#maybe they don’t ever fight #but if they did #if they had one break up worthy argument #I think this would be it #idk!!!!! #again clearing out the drafts #neil josten #andrew minyard #andreil #aftg #all for the game #mine

[ebony-blood]

Poly!The Lost Boys x Reader 

Warnings/AN: They’re a packaged deal, ofc you’re getting all four. Yandere/obsessive stuff because they’re just like that. I tried to be as gender-neutral as possible, lemme know if I need to fix anything.

You have been in Santa Carla for about a year now, you wanna know how long it took for the boys to fall for you? 2 months

Paul fell first, bro spent a whole 2 hours daily rambling to Marko about how much he loved you, how perfect you were in his eyes, how cute you were…

Gender doesn’t matter to these rat bastards, you’re still Paul’s Cutie

Marko fell next, listening to Paul rant about your utter perfection, thus, he started believing you were an angel, literally an angel.

And that’s when the two boys started stalking you, following you around the boardwalk and practically growling at anyone that approached, male, female, whatever

Paul practically has heart eyes every time he sees you, every single time.

Dwayne is next, and he falls WAY harder than the other two

Mr. Tall, dark and handsome over here will follow you home daily, he waits for nightfall and comes out to see you, when he’s not with his brothers, he’s around you.

He may as well be lying on a bed, writing in a notebook about how much he loves you, giggling and kicking his feet like a schoolgirl

So, the three that AREN’T David fall in love with you in two months, David followed shortly behind, and only a month after Dwayne fell, David was fucking INFATUATED.

He has it BAD, like, god, it’s even worse than his brothers.

Eventually, all four of the boys decide they wanna talk to you, and goddammit the minute you open your mouth they’re even more in love with you. 

And so, they start leaving you anonymous gifts, roses, jewelry, Marko paints for you, anything they can think of, they’ll steal it and leave it on your porch. 

It took a few months, but when you realized they were giving you the gifts, you started hanging out with them more, and soon, you were taken to the cave.

They loved you, obviously.

It took almost no time for you to fall for their silly personalities, and that was when they knew they had you.

They became protective, but not outwardly obsessive.

At least, you thought so. 

After they started dating you, they started getting worse in their stalking.

They had a system, every other week, sometimes months between instances, one of them would silently stalk you, keeping hidden in the dark, and one or two of them would pretend to bump into you when you start freaking out.

You were always too freaked out to ask how they were there.

You found out they were vampires when you caught them killing and feeding on a guy who had been actually stalking you. You were freaked out at first.

Eventually, David managed to calm you, promising they would never hurt or kill you.

Now that we’re past all the meetings, falling, stalking, and so on, here’s the actual cute stuff. 

Paul and Marko

These rat fucks are literally never not by your side. 

They bite you, randomly grab you, kiss you, just whenever they want, it doesn’t matter. 

Both boys steal things from you, all the time

Clothes, blankets, stuffed animals, books, your perfume/cologne/body spray, makeup if you wear it, whatever they can get their hands on, it’s with them.

You slowly start noticing them wearing your clothes, your perfume/cologne/body spray, and you ask about it. They always deny having it.

If you wear it, they put on your lipstick or lipgloss before they kiss you, because they think it's funny. 

Paul started trying to get you to smoke with him. 

Marko paints you like constantly, and anytime he catches you watching or looking at him, he has the most lovestruck and goofy look on his face.

Both fantasize about you 24/7 and just bounce stuff off of each other. 

They definitely bite you the most

65% of the bitemarks on you are from them, and 35% are from the other two boys.

Cuddle you the most.

Tease you the most

Teasing nips are greetings to them

Both have very little consistency in pet names for you, they just pick whatever.

Dwayne

The sweetest, and the biggest stalker ever.

Bro follows you around constantly. 

He doesn’t allow you to ride on the back of Paul and Marko's bikes, it's either him or David.

Holds your hands all the time

Gives you his jacket all the time.

You get cold? Take his jacket. Getting outta the ocean after Paul tossed you in? Take his jacket.

Smiles every time he sees you. 

Also takes your perfume/cologne/body spray, sprays himself down, and snuggles into clothes you wear he stole when he wanted to snuggle with you.

Acts totally normal around you but is a giggly schoolgirl when talking about you with the boys.

Brings you food and drinks daily, if he doesn’t know if you’ve eaten, you bet your ass he’s bringing you food.

About 15% of your bites are from him. 

Constantly makes sure you care for yourself.

Not into PDA but will hold your hands daily.

Bro has a mix of songs that reminds him of you.

Calls you stuff like Darling and Honey, he just gives those vibes.

David

OHHHH DEAR GOD-

David is worse than Dwayne, Marko, and Paul combined.

Stalks you, constantly, and he always makes sure you know he’s there.

Sassy, sarcastic, an asshole, we know this, but this carries over to you too.

Bro sasses you all the time.

Dude treats you like he treated Star, bro will just stare at you, if you don’t respond or do as he’s implying, he just calls your name again, and again, until he eventually just snaps in your face, not shouting, but literally snapping.

Nips at your ears, neck, and shoulders

Teases you, all the time, constantly for no reason. Like if you trip bro is laughing and he doesn’t even help your ass up. 

He does care though, he loves you so SO much.

The dude actually takes his damn gloves off to touch you sometimes! That NEVER happens!

Isn’t into PDA, at all, his hands stay securely in your back pockets or with his fingers through your belt loops, you are not leaving his side, if he isn’t around you bet your ass you’re sticking with Dwayne.

Will randomly give you things, Bro gave you one of his old tee shirts and he gets very pouty if you don’t wear it around.

He is not a sweet boy, but also a sweet guy, if you wear down his walls and wiggle your way into his heart, you will NEVER leave.

He’s terrified of being alone, if you leave for even a second, the man almost melts down. 

Calls you stuff like Babe, Baby, and Doll, doll is used no matter your gender, he won’t stop.

One more because our first one for Davie here also brings you food but fucks with you like he did with Micheal. He does keep extras if you actually freak out about it but after a certain point in your time with the boys, you start leaning into the goofiness. 

All four of them

Only a few here.

The boys are cuddlers, if they stay with you in your house, (You have blackout curtains) they are wrapped around you, Paul and Marko are damn well laying on top of you.

Will scream at any bastard on the boardwalk that even LOOKS at you wrong.

They fight anyone at all, for any reason, for everything, at all for you.

These nerds rant about everything they love, David will scream about how much he loves Billy Idol at any time, Marko talks about art all the damn time, Paul will just rant about how fucking much he loves guitarists like Mick Mars, Ace Frehley, and Eddie Van Halen, and Dwayne talks about books. All four always have stars in their eyes when talking, it's so cute. 

The rats started rubbing off on you, you’re crazy now, you ride bikes, and you yell, and scream with all of the boys.

When they do turn you, it amplifies by 20.

Your favorite activity is hanging off the bridge with the boys and biking. 

You eventually get your own, they were hesitant, but eh.

They love biking with you, and then you all either hang from the wood beams while sleeping or snuggle up in your bed and sleep peacefully. You wearing one of their jackets of course.

#the lost boys x reader #the lost boys #tlb x reader #tlb 1987 #tlb david x reader #tlb paul x reader #tlb marko x reader #tlb dwayne x reader #marko tlb #david tlb #paul tlb #dwayne tlb

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hello hello!! I was not expecting requests to be open again so fast, but i am DEVOURING your writing, so i shan't complain!

What about Dogday getting saved by a teenager who’s desensitized to the horrors of the factory? Like of course, they’re perturbed, but aside from initially seeing Dogday(because holy shit), the biggest reaction they’ll give is a cringe and a “eugh” or some other mild exclamation of “that’s fucked up.” Essentially just Dogday interacting with a kid who’s weirdly chill with the circumstances and tries to be silly sometimes despite the persisting horrors.

Thank you so much and have a wonderful day/night!!!

Awe thanks! Have a good day/night too!

.......

"You..you're Poppy's angel..come to save us-"

"Eugh..what the hell happened to you?"

While back in the day, Dogday would've scolded you for using profane language...he finds it understandable considering you discovered him in his....erm..current condition.

The initial shock of seeing him would have anybody from outside the factory deeply disturbed.

But he's surprised that you're not fully freaked out and didn't run away.

Instead you manage to get him out of the Playhouse (while curbstomping a few little critters who tried crawling into his body along the way) and found a safe spot to rest.

Despite his insistence that you should leave him, you point out that he mentioned you saving him earlier.

"When you said "us", I thought that included you, too."

"I-I meant the others. The ones who can still walk..and still have a fighting chance. Look at me, kid. All I'm gonna do is weigh you down."

"....I mean, you are kinda heavy. But I've lifted worse with this grabpack. I got you."

He's confused by how oddly calm you are about everything.

If you were able to get down this far in the facility, you would've had to cross paths with Huggy, Mommy, Catnap, and Miss Delight at some point.

By all accounts, you definitely should've been traumatized at least from seeing all the bloody toys laying around.

Yet you're cool as a cucumber as you try your best to fix him (with assistance from Kissy, Ollie, and Poppy, of course, who are stunned you came out of the Playhouse alive)

Dogday remembers how scared the children were during the Hour of Joy, comforting them as he helped them flee the terror...so to be comforted by a kid now felt strange.

Yet your calm demeanor helps ground him whenever he starts to have a panic attack over Catnap finding him or if he feels like a critter or two is already inside of him, trying to take hold and eat whatever organs he had remaining (but it's just a sensation he feels from time to time).

You snap him out of it by asking rather silly questions.

"What if I stuck a flare in your mouth? Would that deter them?"

"...what? Um...I-I suppose that could work, but hopefully it's not a theory we have to test anytime soon.."

Even if Poppy decided to show you the Hour of Joy tape (which he had to look away from and tried persuading you to do the same), your only reaction is a slight grimace and a simple "damn wtf....you guys think any of those workers were running late or didn't go in that day?"

Dogday is shocked you'd joke at a time like this...but she knows you better and tells him you're just like That(tm).

You do care about them. You do wanna destroy the Prototype and save whoever you can along the way--including him.

It just may take some time for him to get used to your personality.

#clanask #poppy playtime x reader #ppt x reader #dogday #smiling critters #teen reader #headcanons #platonic

[hysteria-things]

Can you do headcannons about toxic but gentle on&off!matt? 😁 (its okay if not!!) Also thank you to the anon who put this thought in my head because I am eating it up and cannot stop thinking about it 😜

ON & OFF MATT HEADCANNONS

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: there is a SFW and NSFW section!

SFW!

the two of you were never a healthy relationship. there was always something you guys would be arguing about.

he is the PETTIEST man when you guys break up for the… you lost track.

president of the sassy man apocalypse, and he always says you’re the problem. (it’s 9 times out of 10 his fault)

your friends BEG you not to go back to him, but you give them the ‘he said he was sorry!’

there was this one time where you ended things on a worse note than usual, and it hit matt hard. despite being able to drive he ran to your house in the rain later that night to apologize with tears in his eyes.

sturniolo tok is so used to it that their comments are low-key hilarious and you guys like to read them together.

user: who wants to bet they’ll be broken up by the end of the week?

user: i think they’re just doing it for fun now😒

user: what happened between yesterday and today didn’t y’all hate each other😭

rarely, there are times where you guys fight and make up for once!

NSFW!

MAKE UP SEX >>>

definitely bent you over the counter or his desk a few times amid an argument just to shut you up.

the longest you guys broke up for was two months, this being where it was “officially over.” because of that, you hooked up with another guy since you were a free woman. the same guy purposely went up to matt and bragged about how he was fucking “his girl…” later that night you were getting fucked stupid on matt’s dick while he said the filthiest things to you.

“fucking slut. you like to walk around and let random guys fuck you? huh?”

“whores like you don’t get away with things that easy, sweetheart.”

“look at that, so fucked dumb that all you can do is scream and cum on my cock. how about we show your new friend, yeah?”

even if you’re not in the wrong, he’ll have his hand wrapped around your throat like a necklace while pounding you in missionary until you say you’re sorry.

this man will have you seeing stars with your eyes rolled so far back that they might stay there. break-up sex is no joke.

“i fucking… ha-ate you.”

“do you, now?”

“matt— sh-shit— yes.”

“good.”

don’t get it twisted, he’s heavy on the aftercare. he’s not that much of an asshole.

he’ll get you anything you need, and when you guys are comfy in bed he’ll massage your thighs for hours; whispering sweet nothings to you as if he didn’t just fuck your brains out.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @hearrtsturns @stars4matt @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @catalina-island @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @crazychrisl0v3r @maggieflms @strtuniolo @mutualsafe @riasturns @sturniolowhore @antpile00 @ashley9282828 @stingerayyy2 @sturnsjtop @luverboychris @yapperchris @imaslutforoldermen @madisonlovesyouu @poetatorturadaa @chr1sgirl4life @hiimolivia @jo-777 @sturnskiss @st4rgrlll @mattyblover07 @sm-ec @mattluvsmarni @knowingnothingnoel @mattsgirlfrieeend @skysturniolo

#✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests! #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fluff

[shadowandlightt]

Of Nightmares and Memories |seven| Azriel X reader

Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

A/N: Little bit of a filler, setting up for the second act. I'm very excited for you guys to see where this is going <3

The week that she was gone was more miserable than most. Your fae healing would kick in, leaving little trace of Tamlin’s brutality, only for him to return and beat you to a pulp once more. You were starting to lose track of the days, only seeming to exist in between Tamlin’s visits, when Feyre reappeared. Not looking worse for wear, but instead looking a little lighter than when she left, but filled with the same amount of anxiety. 

You could hear Tamlin lock her away into the study, questioning her on everything about the Night Court. Feyre saw so little though, you knew that. Your brother wouldn’t put the Court at risk by bringing her anywhere but the Moonstone Palace. But she met with Mor, and that was enough to bring me to my knees. Just knowing she was alive was enough. But then Feyre mentioned Cassian and Azriel and tears started to flow freely. Because they were alive and in one piece. After everything they made it, they were alive and well. Rhys wouldn’t have mentioned them otherwise. 

You sobbed on the floor of your rooms, curled in a ball. Because he lived. Despite it all, Azriel lived. And maybe, somehow you would see him again. Maybe, just maybe, you would be able to escape and make it home. Bide your time until the faebane was out of your system enough to reach out to Rhys for help. 

The Tithe came a week later. You hadn’t left your rooms in months, hadn’t felt the sun on your face. Food was brought to you by Alis, sometimes Feyre would sneak into your rooms for a moment. You wish she would’ve after she returned from the Night Court so you could learn how Rhys and Mor were first hand, instead of having to strain to hear it all. 

You watched from my window as Feyre sat beside Tamlin, looking like the picture of a Spring Court lady. It made you sick. She belonged here just as much as you did. You couldn’t hear from where you stood, but you could see them just fine. The way half of the people barely had enough to pay the Tithe. It broke your heart, Tamlin should have delayed it again. Should have given his people more than three months to recover from the fifty years of pain and suffering they had to endure. But Tamlin was proud, too proud. 

So when Feyre gave her jewels to a water wraith, you knew he would be furious. You could hear it over the dinner that followed. The way they snapped at one another, and then silence, like Feyre left the room. 

It was hours before you heard the sound of what seemed like an explosion. You couldn't move to find out what happened, so you strained my ears to hear whatever you could. All you could hear was Tamlin apologizing over and over again to Feyre. He keeps promising he’ll do better, keeps promising they’ll get through this and that things will change. You wonder if she knows it’s all a lie? 

Rhys comes for her a few weeks later. In the middle of the night, while you’re all fast asleep. You don’t wake until Tamlin comes bursting into your rooms, demanding to know how he can get Rhys to release Feyre from their bargain. When you tell him that your stubborn brother would rather die than give Tamlin something he wanted, he beat you. And then beat you some more, until you were nothing but a bloodied mess on the floor. 

He was waiting by an oak tree at the end of the week. Your body was sore and broken, but healing slowly. Rhys appeared with Feyre in tow, looking exhausted as always. You were beginning to truly worry about her, because it was obvious she was a shell of the human you met months ago. A shell of the one who slapped Tamlin and dared to go against Amerantha. 

Now she was nothing. And there was nothing I could do about it, and hardly anything Rhys could do in one week every month. He could try to get her back, but in the end she would return her and fall deeper and deeper. She was right when she told Tamlin she was drowning. 

All hell broke loose the following day though. 

Though Ianthe returned, you were finally allowed to leave your rooms for a time. You found Feyre standing by the front door, begging Tamlin to take her with him on his trip. He refused, of course, leaving her alone in the doorway. When Feyre said she was coming whether Tamlin liked it or not, you could see something change in him. That’s when she slammed against an invisible wall. That’s when you realized we were both fucked. 

She begged and begged, but he kept moving. He mounted his horse and rode away. Lucien lingered for a moment, saying something I couldn’t quite make out from the ringing in my own ears. She was going to rip herself apart or die in this manor house. 

You watched as Lucien and Tamlin disappeared. Watched as Feyre crumbled in on herself and slowly began to lose control. Darkness seeped out of her, then fire and ice. She was wrapping herself in a cocoon of it as she crashed to the floor. your heart broke, because you had no power to help her. 

Alis called her name, begging her to calm down. But Feyre couldn’t hear her, or chose not to. You felt the need to vomit as I watched on, feeling more helpless than you ever had before.

“Help her!” Alis demanded, finally seeing you standing there. 

“I can’t,” you choked out, “I have no power. Your master….he…I can’t do anything.” 

Feyre was going to die. There would be nothing left of her by the time Tamlin and Lucien made it back here. She would be nothing but a pile of ashes at this rate. you felt utterly sick, and angry. Angry that you had no power left to help, angry that you’d been locked away too for too long. Angry that Tamlin would even think about locking Feyre away like this, knowing that she would react poorly. 

But reacting poorly is an understatement. She was going to bring the whole place down around us. We would all die at her hand, and she wouldn’t mean to do it. She would topple the Spring Court tonight, without meaning to do it. And you would finally be free, in life or in death. 

But then the very foundations shuttered, and the sight of blonde hair filled my eyes. you  fell to your knees, because it was Mor, whole and beautiful as ever. She couldn’t see you from where you were, but you could see her as she reached into the cocoon of darkness and pulled Feyre out. 

“Go,” Alis whispered to me, “Go with them.” 

You shook your head, unable to move. Surely it couldn’t be that simple. Surely there would be something else to stop me from leaving. you  couldn’t even make it to the gate before. Why would now be any different? 

“Please-please take care of her,” Alis begged Mor, “Take care of them both.”

“Both?” Mor questioned. 

It was then, with the thought of Azriel and finally returning home to Valaris. Finally being able to fly again and feel the sun and wind on my face. Finally being able to feel Cassian’s bone crushing hugs, and Rhys….oh Rhys. It was only then that you got to your feet and moved from your hiding spot. 

Mor faltered upon seeing me. You  thought she might even drop Feyre as a sob ripped from her lips. Feyre seemed to be unconscious in the woman’s arms, unaware of what was happening. But Mor knew, the second she laid eyes upon me, she knew. Even though my body had changed and I’d matured, she still saw me. 

“How is this possible?” She questioned, taking a small step towards me. 

“You don’t have time,” Alis warned, “Someone will have alerted the High Lord, he’ll be on his way.”

“Take me home Mor,” you beg, “Please Mor, take me home.”

“Consider yourselves very, very lucky that your High Lord was not here when we arrived,” Mor warned. 

With tears in her eyes, Mor nodded towards me and took a step towards the door. Feyre finally took in a breath, deep and shuttering. You swallowed hard and followed them out of the door. Mor told Feyre that nothing was going to keep them from her, and that Rhys shattered the shields without a second thought. 

What would he do when he realized what else he freed? Would he be happy to see you again after so many years? Or would it be too painful for him, after moving on hundreds of years ago. Because surely they all moved on. Surely they didn’t think about you the way you thought of all of them. Surely they didn’t spend every day mourning the life you could have had if Tamlin hadn’t told his father and brothers where to find you that day, or if Rhys hadn’t told Tamlin, or if he’d simply showed up to meet you that day. So many things could be different. 

“Hold onto me,” Mor told you , tears streaming down her face. 

You grasp onto her arm and hold tightly to it as she winnows you. Your eyes strain against the bright light that floods your vision. Rhys is leaning against a tree, and straightens the second he sees the three of you. He falters, just as Mor had. Eyes blinking furiously as if he’s trying to clear his head. 

“You-” 

“Rhys,” your voice cracks, “It’s me. I promise.”

“I-” He shakes his head, “You’re dead.”

“No,” You whisper to him, “That’s what they wanted you to think. I’ve been locked away this whole time.”

He reaches for you. Like you’re a ghost that’s going to disappear the second he touches you. Only you don’t, because you’re living and breathing. He breaks then, tears streaming down his face as he pulls you into a tight hug. 

“We need to move, Rhys,” Mor reminds him, “The faster we’re in the Night Court, the better.”

“Take me home,” You say again, “I just want to go home.” 

“Oh, Little Star,” for the first time in hundreds of years, the name is said with such love and adoration. You don’t flinch when you hear it, you don’t expect it to be accompanied by a blow. Because you know you’re safe now. Safe and loved and protected, “Let’s go home.”

Tag List

@historygeekqueen @saltedscotchcoffee @queerqueenlynn @wallacewillow0773638 @sstrohma @hnyclover @thelov3lybookworm @maddybraps @minnieoo @witchymomfrien @mariahoedt @one-big-fangirl @amara-moonlight @st0rmyt @annamariereads16 @hunterksmith @sleepylunarwolf @sh4nn @emryb @mikatanazaki @ilovespideyyy @nickishadow139

#acomaf #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x you #azriel x reader #acotar fic #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger

[wzrd-wheezes]

Forget Me Not - Remus Lupin x Reader

AN - this amazing idea was thought of by the lovely @thepunisherfrankcastle who posted this the other day. I couldn't not write it. Thank you for letting me write your beautiful idea.

Warnings: contains mentions of blood and an accident (nothing graphic literally a sentence) memory loss but other than that some angst and a bit off fluff.

3.8k words

It absolutely ruined him when the accident happened. The way her body fell limp in the rubble, blood smeared across her face. For a split second, everyone thought she was dead, unable to bring her back round. Remus knelt by her, brushing the dust off of her face, trying to mop up the blood with the hem of his t-shirt. 

She was in the hospital for weeks, barely allowed to have visitors. The closest Remus got to her was through the cloudy glass that looked into her room from the corridor. He spent hours with his forehead resting against the glass, trying to get a glimpse of her to see if she was okay. The doctors seemed to keep pulling the curtains around her for privacy, promising to update him if anything happened.  

He spent days waiting outside of her room, his back stiff from sitting on the hard plastic chairs, staring at the worn linoleum floor. The bright, fluorescent lights gave him a headache. He couldn’t even bring himself to read the book that he had tucked away in the back pocket of his jeans, his mind was a mess of thoughts and he found it hard to focus. Every few hours, the lady with the tea trolley would come rattling down the corridor and she would give him a sympathetic smile as she handed him his drink.  

James and Sirius came to visit, they sat with him for hours, trying to convince to go home.  

“C’mon, mate. You need to get some proper food down you at least.” James reasoned, looking at the crumpled paper coffee cups and the empty cigarette packets that were laying at Remus’s feet.  

“What if she wakes up and I’m not here?” he answered, staring into the grey-ish cup of tea he was drinking. 

“Then they’ll call you and you can come straight back.” Sirius rubbed his shoulder comfortingly, “You’ll feel better after a decent sleep. Can’t imagine you’ve had much here.” 

Remus finally looked up, weak smile forming on his lips. He nodded – Sirius was right. He had barely slept since he’d been here. The uncomfortable surroundings and constant buzzing and beeping from the machines made it near impossible. He was exhausted. There were dark smudges under his eyes that were getting worse every day, a shadow of stubble across his jaw and his hair was a mess from him anxiously running his hands through it. 

When he stood up, it felt like every bone in his body cracked, clicking back into place. Since he got here, he had barely moved, only getting up to go to the bathroom or to get a cheap coffee from the machine. He groaned, rubbing his hip to ease the pain.  James and Sirius led him back to the car, Sirius’s hand planted firmly on his back, guiding him.  

Remus could barely get his key in the door, his hands were shaking so badly, a combination of anxiety and the lack of food and sleep. His friends had offered to come in with him, to sit with him for a while. James had even offered to go and collect some of his mum’s cooking for him to eat. Remus politely declined, not feeling up to the company. Reluctantly, his friends retreated leaving Remus alone.  

He wandered around the flat for a while, rummaging in the cupboards for something to eat, slotted two slices of bread in the toaster and flicked the kettle on. Y/N would go mad when she found out he wasn’t looking after himself properly.  

The living room felt eerily empty without his girlfriend. The ticking of the clock was driving him insane, and he switched the radio on, trying to drown it out. Eating felt near enough impossible, his mouth was dry and the bread felt like he was chewing on cardboard. His fingers reached out for his mug, taking a swig of his tea trying to dislodge it from his throat. He rubbed his hand over his face. God, he was tired. The thought of sleeping in their bed alone was unbearable, the two of them hadn’t spent a night alone since they moved in together.  

He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, but he must have because he woke up abruptly to the sound of the landline ringing. His heart was pounding in his chest and he felt disorientated. It was nighttime now, the living room was bathed in gloomy moonlight and he nearly tripped over as he rushed to the phone.  

“Hello?” His voice came out strained.  

“Hello. Can I speak to a Mr Lupin, please?” the voice asked.  

“Speaking.”  

“Ah, hello Mr Lupin. We’re just calling to let you know that Y/N has woken up. She’s still a little groggy but if you wanted to come over in the morning to see her then you can.”  

Remus felt like he could cry. It took all of his restraint to not just drive straight to the hospital now, but he knew he needed to let her rest if she had just come round. Instead, he went for a shower, finding the hot water soothing against his tired body. He ran his hands through his hair, lathering up the shampoo. For the first time since the accident, he felt like he could breathe properly again.  

The bathroom was filled with steam by the time he got out. He could barely see his reflection in the mirror as the condensation dripped down it. He winced as he saw his himself, his fingers tracing the bags under his eyes. He rummaged in the cabinet for his razor, deciding to clean himself up a little before the morning.  

That night, he decided to sleep on the sofa again, he told himself that it was just in case the hospital rang again, so he could hear the phone. Deep down, he knew that it was because he didn’t want to sleep in their bed without Y/N.  

A decent nights sleep was much needed, Remus only awoke when the morning sunlight streamed into the living room. He looked around groggily, his eyes squinting in the bright light. He wasn’t used to waking up in his own flat, the last few times that he dozed off, when he woke up it was to the fluorescent hospital lights and the doctors walking down the corridor, doing their morning rounds. 

He got dressed quickly, and gave himself a once over in the mirror before he left, running a hand through his hair, trying to tame the unruly curls.  

When he arrived at the hospital, there was a crowd of doctors and nurses that were outside of Y/N’s room. He waited anxiously for them to stop talking, nibbling on the skin of his bottom lip. 

“Mr Lupin?” one of the doctors turned around, “We’re glad you’re here-” 

“Can I go in? I need to see her.”  

“Of course. She’s having a few issues with her memory at the moment. She can’t seem to remember much from the accident but seeing a familiar face might help jog her memory.” The doctor informed him.  

Y/N looked better than he thought she would when he entered. She was propped up against some pillows, her face was patched up a bit and she had multiple wires and drips attached to her that were connected to different machines. She cocked her head when Remus walked in.  

“God, I’m so happy to see you. I’m so glad you’re okay.” Remus rushed over to her, planting a gentle kiss to the top of her head. She stayed silent for a moment, her brows knitting together.  

“I’m really sorry. Do I know you?” she pulled away from him. 

Remus stood stunned for a few seconds, at a complete loss for words. He felt like time had stood still. He hadn’t noticed that the doctor was stood in the doorway, clipboard in hand. Remus spun around when he spoke.  

“That’s normal,” the doctor began, “There tends to be memory loss in the days after someone wakes up from an accident so severe. Sometimes it takes a while for them to remember everything.” 

“What do you mean ‘a while’.” Remus stressed, “I thought you said that she couldn’t remember the accident? Not that she couldn’t remember me!”  

“She has an incredibly severe concussion. The extent of her damage is worse than we originally thought. She’s suffered a significant amount of brain trauma, which has most likely caused her to lose her memory. We’re hoping that it won’t be permanent, and her brain heals itself. But it could take days, weeks or even months.” The doctor explained carefully. 

Every trace of colour drained from his face and he felt his stomach sink. His breath caught in his throat, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. The doctor left the room, saying something about giving Remus time to process – he wasn’t really listening.  

Remus moved to sit by her bed, reaching to take Y/N’s hand in his but withdrawing his fingers almost immediately. Y/N just sat silently, staring at Remus he could near enough see the cogs in her brain turning, trying to work out who he was. 

“I’m sorry.” Y/N repeated, “I feel like I’m supposed to know who you are but I just can’t remember.” She bit down on her lip. 

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Remus said, trying to remain calm. He was trying to look and sound reassuring, but tears were stinging at his eyes and he was doing his best to hold them back. 

“Something keeps coming to my mind when I look at you. It’s right on the tip of my tongue,” she looked at him earnestly, “You know when you can’t remember something but you know that you know it?” 

“I’m Remus,” he nodded, “I’m your boyfriend.” 

“My... boyfriend?” her eyes widened and she reached a hand up to her mouth, “How long? Have we been together a while?” 

“Since we were at school.” Remus confirmed, smiling sadly.  

Y/N was speechless. It was as if she was going from one emotional state to another. She looked completely lost, struggling to get her head around the idea. She looked at Remus, observing him with a newfound curiosity. Tears threatened to spill out of her eyes and she swallowed hard, looking away for a moment. 

“I- I don’t remember anything.” tears were falling now, she was growing increasingly more distressed.  

“I think you should go now, Mr Lupin.” the doctor had appeared at the door again, “We need to let her rest. You can visit again tomorrow.” 

Remus stiffened as he spoke, his eyes narrowing. He didn’t agree, he didn’t want to leave her on her own. He didn’t trust himself to speak, as if the words would open the floodgates and he would lose it completely. So instead, he just reached out and took her hand, squeezing it tightly for a moment before he left. 

When he got home, Remus wandered aimlessly through the flat, his eyes dull and his expression sombre. He made himself a cup of coffee and took a seat at the kitchen table. Sirius and James had left him messages on the answering machine, but he couldn’t muster up the effort to call them back.  

Remus just sat there, thinking over his past. Over everything they had been through together. He had known Y/N for as long as he could remember. They had met on their first day of school, forming a group with James and Sirius and had been inseparable ever since. It was when they reached their teens that Remus started seeing her in a different light. He started noticing how she would lean into him to whisper things when they were doing late night study sessions in the library. How her nose would crinkle up when she laughed, how the sun caught in her eyes when they would spend lazy afternoons by the lake.  

He had never had much in terms of affection, his childhood was pretty ropey, and he spent as much time as he could at school. Even when he grew up, girls never seemed to go with him. It was hard, when you were friends with people like James and Sirius, people who flirting and talking to people came so naturally to.  

He had never thought that someone would love him like that. The way that Y/N did. When he finally opened up to her about his feelings and she reciprocated, he felt like the happiest man in the world.  

He remembered all the times he had stayed up late studying, even though his body ached and his mind was growing less coherent by the house. He remembered the times when she would sneak off to go and make them both coffee, kissing his cheek before she left. He remembered being so damn tired the next morning but getting to spend time with her was so worth it.  

When they eventually got their flat together, he was always so excited to spend his days off with her. It was as if he never had to worry about what he would do when she was around. He could just relax. He would do little things, like leave notes in her books and whisper sweet nothings in her ear as they snuggled up on the sofa.  

The years of feeling underserving of being loved seemed so trivial now- so stupid. Y/N loved him. She loved him completely and irrevocably. Yet now, she had no idea who he was. 

His head felt heavy and sore from all the thinking, from not letting himself feel for so long. He slumped forward in his chair, his elbows resting on the table, his face buried in his hands. He hated that the accident had happened. That he had to look at her and be a stranger to her. It was like there was a knife in his gut, the blade twisting every time that Y/N said she didn’t remember him. What if she never remembered him? What if this was his one shot at love and it had been ruined? For years, Remus had had a horrible thought in the back of his mind that their relationship was purely circumstantial, that if they had met in any other scenario that she wouldn’t have fallen for him. Now, it seemed like his worst nightmare had come true.  

When he went back to the hospital the next day, he spent the walk to Y/N’s room trying to convince himself that this all was just some crazy dream, that he would walk into her room and that she would recognise him. He was devastated when she didn’t. 

“Are those for me?” she asked when he walked in, nodding towards the bunch of flowers that he was holding. 

“Yeah.” he smiled, feeling somewhat shy, “They’re your favourites.” 

“Well, I’m glad you remembered.” she joked. 

She laughed and he couldn’t help but feel his heart leap just a little. He didn’t even think that this was all new to her, that her personality might have changed. She still had her wicked sense of humour. He chuckled, but the sound felt hollow in his chest. A part of him couldn’t be completely happy, not while she still didn’t know who he was. It was bittersweet to hear her joke, it was as if nothing in the world mattered apart from the fact that she was here right now. 

“The doctor was saying I should go home soon.” she broke the silence after a few moments, “He said something about how being in familiar surroundings might help jog my memory.” 

“I think that’s a good idea.” he smiled softly, “Do you want to come home?” 

“I think so...” her voice trailed off, “I’m just worried. I mean, you say that you're my boyfriend and I believe you but I just still don’t remember anything.”  

“We can take things slowly.” he replied, “We can get to know each other again. You can get to know me...” 

It pained him to say it. His heart raced as he realised what he had just suggested. They would be starting over. He had a horrible worry in the back of his mind. What if he couldn’t make her fall for him again? 

A few days later, Remus drove her home from the hospital. They didn’t feel as uncomfortable around each other now; Remus had been at the hospital pretty much constantly for the past few days. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye as the car pulled up outside of their flat, searching her face for a hint that she remembered where she was. 

He felt his heart plummet when her eyes didn’t flicker. She didn’t seem to recognise anything as they walked into the flat. She looked as if she were a stranger in this place that she called home just a few weeks ago. He led her to the sofa, sitting down next to her. Every few seconds, his eyes would wander back to her face, wanting her to notice him, to remember him. It was like he was playing tug of war in his head, part of him wanted to break down and cry, the other was telling him to stay calm. He knew he had to stay strong for her. 

“If you feel like you need space, let me know.” Remus offered, “I just want to make sure that you’re comfortable, that’s what I care about most.” 

“Thank you,” she smiled, looking down at her hands as she wrung them together in her lap. Her hands were always a sign of her stress and anxiety – he had known that since school. 

“I put together a box a stuff. Just bits and bobs from the last few years. Y’know postcards, letters, photographs, that kind of stuff. I can go and get them if you like?” 

Y/N spent hours curled up on the sofa, sifting through the box that Remus brought her. She pored over the photographs, tracing their faces with the tip of her finger. He felt his heart throb when he saw the spark of happiness light up her eyes. It seemed like she was enjoying looking through the photographs, seeing all the good times they had in the past. He watched her, her smile was infectious, momentarily making him forget about everything that had happened. 

“You wrote me all these letters?” she asked, wafting one in his direction. 

“Yeah. I started doing it when we were at school, y’know over the summer holidays and then I started leaving them around in places for you to find. I’ve done it for years.” 

“You really loved me, huh?” she mused. 

“Love.” Remus corrected her, “I really love you.” 

“Even now?” she cocked her head to look at him, “Even though I can’t remember anything?” 

“Of course. I always will.” he met her gaze, his eyes softening, “It’s such a shame that you can’t remember everything but you get to rediscover who you are and who you were. I’m just happy that I get to be there alongside you for that.” 

“But won’t it just feel like dating a stranger? Starting afresh?” her voice grew quieter and she looked down at her hands, picking at the skin around her nails.  

“I get the pleasure of getting to know you all over again.”  

Over the next few weeks that they spent back at their flat together, Y/N’s attitude towards Remus shifted. She had started to become more comfortable around him, like she wasn’t seeing him as a stranger anymore. They would spend hours curled up on the sofa together while she asked Remus to tell her stories about their time at school. She would laugh at his jokes, playfully hitting him on the arm as she did so – something that she used to do when they were younger.  

For the first time since the accident, she started flirting with him. It was nice to see her back to the playful, flirty girl that she used to be. She would often tease Remus about their past and then take great delight when his cheeks went pink. Her touches started to linger and she had even started leaning against him when they sat together, her body brushing against his.  

He was starting to be more affectionate with her too, though he was hesitant to initiate it as he didn’t want to move things along too fast and spook her. A sudden rush of excitement would wash over him whenever she showed any signs of falling into their old patterns. He couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off of his face. 

One evening, while they were cooking together in the kitchen, something that they always used to do, he caught her staring at him. Her eyes roamed over his face, taking in every detail like she was trying to commit it to memory.  

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Remus teased.  

“Oh, shut up.” she laughed, turning away from him to stir the pot on the stove. Remus just chuckled, shaking his head and looking back to the dishes that he was drying. They stayed in comfortable silent for a while, occasionally Y/N would sing along to songs on the radio if she remembered them, though she would often get the words muddled up. 

“Hey, Moony, can you just pass me the saltshaker?” she asked, her eyes still focused on the bubbling pan.  

“What did you just call me?” The plate that he was holding nearly slipped from his fingers and he turned around so fast that his neck could have snapped. 

“M-Moony.” she repeated, though this time the word felt unfamiliar in her mouth. It had come so casually before, dripping off her tongue like honey. 

“You haven’t called me that for ages.” he said, his voice thick with disbelief, “I didn’t think you’d remember. How did you even...” his voice trailed off. 

“I don’t know.” she moved to look at him, her eyes wide, “It just slipped out. It suits you though. Moony.” 

Remus could have fallen to his knees. This was the first time that she has remembered something. Something about him. The way she said it so easily, as if nothing had happened at all. It was the first sign of hope in weeks that her memory might start to come back. Even if it didn’t Remus was enjoying getting to know her all over again.  

While Remus lay on the sofa that evening trying to get some sleep, he had taken to sleeping on the sofa until she was more comfortable around him, he couldn’t believe that she was starting to fall for him again. The ever-present voice in the back of his mind had started to quieten. He had been so worried that his one shot at love had slipped from his grasp and it was killing him that there was nothing that he could to do make her remember what once was. He couldn’t believe his luck. The girl of his dreams had starting to like him, again. The first time wasn’t just a fluke like he always thought it had been. She liked him and she chose him again. 

#remus lupin #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin angst #remus lupin fluff #marauders #marauders fanfiction

[secondhand-snow]

a body of impulses

chapter 3: letting love devour

lukas matsson x f!roy! reader (succession)

★chapter 2★

wc: 8.4k+

warnings: dysfunctional family, swearing, fluff, smut, age gaps, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, virginity loss, vaginal sex, making out, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), corruption kink, aftercare, no use of y/n

summary: After Italy, things are hard. Your family is divided, your life is disordered, your brain is on fire. Lukas knows you better than yourself, and proves it by repairing your sanity in a way only he can.

author's note: here's a nice little fluffy chapter for you after our last installment! hope you enjoy, it was so fun to write ♡ please consider liking, commenting, or reblogging if you enjoyed!

The past few months have been hard, to say the least. The day of Caroline’s wedding was like a bomb had been dropped on your family. Logan wanted to sell to GoJo, and no matter what your siblings did, they couldn't change his mind. They felt betrayed, he felt discredited, and the whole thing ended up in flames. After that night, you didn’t have the energy to reach out to your siblings. They continued messaging you, half accusing, half blaming, you left their messages unopened. Except for Kendall, who you responded to in order to gain more information on his hospital visit. When you were satisfied he was okay, he got the silent treatment as well.

Worse than the bomb was the fallout. You left Italy alone the day after the wedding. Logan stayed in Italy for a while, his loyal executives staying by his side. You aren’t sure what your siblings ended up doing, you only know that Tom flew back alone as well. When you get back to New York, you throw yourself into your work. You get to the office at 6 in the morning, you leave at 10 at night, you never take lunch breaks. It’s the only thing that keeps your mind occupied. You barely sleep, you barely eat, you barely speak.

The rhythm finally ends with Lukas. Everything always ends with Lukas. He knows you’ve been struggling, knows how things ended with your family. Every night he begs you to take a break, get some sleep, and relax for the first time in over a month. You try to convince him you’re okay, that you're just busy with the deal and coping the best you can. He doesn’t believe you. Lukas keeps asking every night when you call. He offers to pay for a spa visit, a vacation, anything to get you out of the office. Like the money is what’s stopping you.

You play a game of cat and mouse, him chasing you and you denying him. It goes on for weeks. Until he doesn’t give you a choice.

“You’re coming to Sweden tomorrow.”

“Lukas… It’s 12 o’clock at night.”

“I’m sending my jet, your flight is 7am.” You roll over in your bed, moving from your back to prop yourself up on your elbows, eyebrows raising as he speaks. You were exhausted, just getting home from work an hour ago and getting into bed as quickly as possible, even if you couldn’t sleep. 

“I have to work tomorrow, I can’t just ditch everything for a vacation.”

“They’ll survive without you for a few days.” He sighs, you hear fabric rustle like he’s leaned back onto where he’s sitting.

“I have so much to do…”

“You’re coming.”

“I can’t just go to Sweden on a whim!” Your voice isn’t really upset, just surprised and a little frustrated at the intrusion.

“It’s not on a whim, I planned it for you.”

“You’re fucking insane.” 

“I miss you. I want to see my girlfriend.”

You pause then, letting out a low sigh. Lukas always knows what to say to you, always knows how to get you to do what he wants. 

“I miss you too.”

“I knew it.” You can hear the smirk in his voice when he speaks now. He knows he’s won.

“I tell you that every day, it’s not a new revelation.” Lukas laughs quietly on the other line, the sound bringing a shy smile to your face. “I don’t think this is a good idea though. If we went public without me telling my family first…”

“Then we won’t. We’ll be careful and stay private until it’s a good time. Nobody will know unless you want them to, I promise.”

“Okay. Okay, fine. I’ll come to see you. But you know I can’t stay long.”

“We’ll see.” He half-sings, and you’re glad he can’t see the grin on your face when you try to sound annoyed.

“Lukas!” 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He hangs up before you can change your mind, leaving you staring at the bright screen of your phone in your otherwise dark apartment, an embarrassingly large grin on your face. You try falling back asleep that night, but don’t manage to get more than an hour or two before waking back up. It’s not the worst night of sleep you’ve gotten, and you needed to pack anyway. Sending a quick message to your assistant, you quickly cancel your plans for the week. You know you said a few days, but you also know Lukas can persuade you like no one else. So, at 7am sharp you find yourself seated on an unfamiliar jet, making excuses to try and influence yourself enough to leave, call off the trip and head back to the office. It doesn’t work. 

Lukas’s Swedish house is everything you thought it would be. Just outside of Stockholm, the building was modern and luxurious, with a long driveway and tall fir trees keeping the property private. The mansion was made of stone and dark woods with huge glass windows. It was simple and quiet, while simultaneously being incredibly opulent. It’s so Lukas it almost made you laugh. You took in the landscape, peering out the window of the SUV you were sitting in. Lukas insisted on sending you his personal driver, not trusting anyone else to bring you here safely. 

When the car finally rolled to a stop and you exited the vehicle only a few seconds passed before Lukas was running out the front door of his mansion towards you. He was shoeless, wearing a pair of plain sweatpants and a shirt, with his hair messy and arms open. The goofy look on his face and the gawky way he rushed towards you made you giggle, your lips parting into a beaming smile. When he reached you, his arms tucked under your armpits and scooped you up, your feet lifting from the ground as he held you close. You wrapped your arms around his neck, tucking your head into the top of his chest.

“You’re here!” His voice was slightly muffled from the way he had his lips pressed into your hair, but his tone was happy, maybe the happiest you’d ever heard him.

“I am. I finally made it.” Lukas set you back down onto your feet, dropping his arms around your waist before pulling you in for a soft kiss. You could feel his smile on your lips before you separated.

“Let me show you around.” He intertwines your fingers, presses his arm against yours playfully, and begins leading you into the house.

The inside is contemporary, filled with the highest end furniture and appliances that money can buy. It's minimalist and chic, and looks a little more lived in than Lukas’s Swiss villa. You recognize a few areas from the background of Facetimes and photos Lukas has sent you. The bookshelves in his office, the painting in his dining room, the mirrors in his home gym. It feels strangely nostalgic to see the spaces in real life, strangely like home. When you reach his bedroom you’re a bit surprised to see your luggage sitting there. The surprise quickly fades with the realization that he trusted you enough to share a space with you. Self-pride takes over your emotions, a small smile finding its way to your face.

“So, what do you have planned for me?” You release Lukas’s hand to walk over to his bed, sitting gracefully on the edge of it to look up at him.

“You’ll see.” He moves to stand closer to you, your knees brushing the front of his legs as he reaches out to run a hand through your hair.

“You really won’t tell me?”

“It’s a surprise!” His hand moves to cup your chin, tilting your head up even further to look him in the eyes. “You’ll like it, I promise.”

“I am not a fan of surprises.” You raise your eyebrows at Lukas, making him snicker at the pouty look gracing your face.

“You’ll like this one.” 

“You don’t know that.”

“I know you.”

That shuts you up. You can’t argue with the statement, you both know it’s the truth. Lukas knows more about you than your own family. He’s seen you at your most vulnerable and stayed, a feat nobody else in the world can claim. The months you have spent with him feel like centuries, and you don’t think you can ever go back to how your life was without him.

The rest of that day consisted mainly of lounging around, getting used to time difference and catching up on the few things you hadn’t shared with your boyfriend already. You watched a movie on his couch, casually resting your head in his lap while he worked on his phone. Lukas wasn’t the biggest cuddler, but he did enjoy your small displays of affection. Dinner was spaghetti and wine, prepared by his personal chef since neither of you were great cooks. As the sun set, the pair of you found yourself outdoors, in Lukas’s hot tub. 

Your hair pulled back so it wouldn’t get wet, his shirt off exposing a light scattering of blonde hair on his chest. You sat next to him in the water, your head laying lightly on his shoulder while your feet stretched out in front of you, slightly floating. For the first time in months, your brain was quiet and your surroundings were calm.

“Have you ever used your pool before?” Your head moves from its resting point you look up at Lukas, your brows furrowed in question.  

“Of course. Do people do that?”

“You mean- buy a house and not use the features it comes with?” He nods. “Yeah, all the time. That’s like… a norm in old-money social circles.”

“Really?” His head tilts, a confused smirk coming over his lips.

“Really. Roman has a house in Puerto Rico he’s never even been to. Says its ‘just in case.’” You laugh candidly at the admission, your head falling back onto his shoulder as you realize just how odd it sounds.

“Just in case what?”

“I have no clue. You should ask him, he likes you.” Lukas just hums in response, a hand coming around your shoulders to hold you close to him. You stay that way for a minute, just breathing and being together. Eventually, you move from your position, his arm falling away as you shift to settle in front of him in the water, bending a bit at your hips to stay at his eye level, hands resting on his thighs as you lean your weight forward. It gives him a great view of your cleavage, which you immediately notice as his eyes drift down to your chest.

“Do you think this is weird?” You look up at Lukas through your lashes, his gaze moving back up to meet yours.

“What? Us?” You nod. “Yeah, a little.” He shrugs, his mouth forming an indifferent line.

“I just feel like we move so fast, like nobody else would really understand it if we told them.”

“Well they don’t have to understand it. Are you happy like this?”

“Very.”

“Then that’s what matters.” He reaches forward, grabbing onto your arms to pull you into his lap, straddling his hips as his hands move to cradle your ass. “ I don’t give a fuck what anyone else thinks. The media, our companies, your family- it’s all unimportant. I only care about you.”

You pause for a second at that, gnawing on your bottom lip as you look into Lukas’s eyes. Your arms move from resting at your sides to circle around the back of his neck. 

“You’re serious about this? About our relationship? About me?” There’s no hesitation before he answers.

“Yes.” A soft smile comes to his lips. “I’m more serious about you than any other relationship I’ve been in, to be honest.”

Something in his eyes tells you that it’s the truth. There’s a tenderness there you haven’t seen before. His answer satisfies you enough to make you lean forward, planting a gentle kiss on his lips. Of course, he deepens it. You’ve learned that Lukas can never do something halfway, with him it’s always all or nothing. The realization calms you a bit, dulls your fears of manipulation and misuse. You almost can’t believe that someone would care for you as much as Lukas does, you think there must be an underlying reason. But it feels so good to be with him, the potential for damage is worth it.

When Lukas said he was planning everything for you, he wasn’t kidding. The following days of your trip are planned perfectly, with every fine detail figured out for you. You don’t have to make any decisions, just let yourself be led and take things as they come. Part of you loves it, part of you hates it. You go along with it despite your uncertainty.

The first day, you go on a spa trip. The entire building had been rented out for the two of you, a needed step to take for maintaining the privacy of your relationship. Lukas assures you the working staff have also signed NDAs, just to be safe. You spend hours in matching robes getting pampered with the finest and rarest ingredients in the world. The massage you get disposes of all the stress you’ve been carrying, leaving your back and shoulders feeling the best they have in months. You convince Lukas to get a facial, snapping a photo of his face with cucumber slices on his eyes and setting it as his contact photo in your phone.  But more than that, you’re able to be in a semi-public place with your boyfriend and not hide the connection between you two. There’s no harm in pressing a wayward kiss to his lips, in holding his hand as you walk together. Your affection being unconfined in the open is more of a luxury than anything else you receive that day.

The day after that Lukas takes you on a hike. You haven’t had the time to get out in nature in so long, and he knows it. It’s only a short drive to the area, a gorgeous forest of towering trees and lush vegetation. You hadn’t brought active clothing with you, but luckily were able to obtain some via Lukas’s assistant in time for your activity. When you promise to repay Lukas for the money he spent on your outfit, he just scoffs and presses an affectionate kiss to your temple. The hike itself isn’t too hard, only 5 miles round trip with a few uphill treks. On the way Lukas takes the time to point out native plants to you, and you pretend to understand when he pronounces their names in Swedish. At the end you’re left with the view of a beautiful lake and acres of rolling green hills around it. You take a selfie to commemorate your experience, the image showing you smiling at the camera happily and Lukas stooping over to press a kiss to your cheek. You’re so tired at the end that you fall asleep on his shoulder on the drive back, his hand covering yours and blissful smiles on both your faces.

The third day, you stay at home. Lukas apologizes profusely that he can’t take you shopping in old town Stockholm, but knows it's too much of a risk for you to be seen together. Instead of a public outing, you camp out in his living room and spend the day watching your favorite movies. He brings out a horde of Swedish candy, making you try every single one no matter how strange they sound. Bilar ends up being your favorite, you finish an entire bag between the two of you. You show him your favorite childhood movie, cuddling into his shoulder on the couch as you look up at his reactions. He tells you about his favorite movies, the tv shows he loved growing up, the books he read in primary school. It feels familial and a little cutesy. It’s a nice break in the intensity of your relationship.

Later that night you look over at Lukas, stretched out on the couch as he watches the TV intently. You roll over onto your stomach, propping your upper body up on your elbows, bending your knees to hold your feet in the air. 

“Tell me something about yourself.” His head turns to you, a slightly concerned look on his face.

“What do you want to know?” Lukas moves his attention fully to you, shifting his upper body in your direction. You pause, thinking for a second before responding.

“Tell me something you haven’t told anyone else.” 

“Ever?”

“Ever.” He takes a minute, head tilting to look at the ceiling as he thinks.

“I don’t know if I have one of those. I’m a pretty open person.” You give a small laugh at that. He mocks offense at your reaction, mouth opening wide and shoulders raising.

“That is so not true Lukas.”

“I tell people all sorts of things!”

“You calculate what you say though. Like- you tell people things to make them think you’re less threatening.” The smile on Lukas’s face makes you know you have him caught. “You only share what you know people can’t use against you.”

“You know me too well.” You smile at that, move to crawl over to him and roll over, putting your head on his lap, looking up into his eyes. Lukas threads his fingers through your hair, tilts his chin to return your gaze.

“Have you ever been like that with me?” He considers for a minute, eyebrows raising to accentuate the few wrinkles on his forehead.

“Maybe at first.” You nod. “But after I ate your pussy I stopped.” He laughs, a little smug. Your hand comes up to swat at his chest playfully.

“It’s weird seeing you talk to other people, though. Like a switch flips in your brain and all the sudden you’re this social mastermind.”

“Yeah…” Lukas lets out a small sigh, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip before he continues. “I guess I keep my guard up, it can be a little intense.”

“Intense is a good word. For both of us.”

“It is.”

“You really don’t have anything that you haven’t told anyone else? Anything at all?” You widen your eyes and pout your bottom lip.

“Let me think.” Lukas takes a deep breath, closes his eyes for a moment. “I sent this girl my blood once.”

“What?” 

“An ex of mine, I sent her frozen bricks of my blood. Like, these half-pint blood ice cubes.” You hesitate before responding, a genuine question in your voice.

“Why did you do that?”

“It was a joke at first. Then I just kept doing it. I don’t know- I just like being able to do that shit, you know? Like- having some power over her, even though we aren’t together.” He shrugs, averts his eyes from yours for a second before glancing back down as you speak.

“That’s pretty bad, Lukas.” Your tone is more lecturing than actually upset, like a teacher reprimanding a student for bad behavior.

“Yeah, yeah I know. You gonna break up with me?”

“Nah. I know people who have done worse.” You give him a little smile. “Who’s the ex?”

“My comms head. Her name’s Ebba.”

“Well that makes things complicated.” You laugh a little at the strangeness of the situation. Lukas sheepishly smiles.

“Yeah. You’ll probably end up meeting her at some point.”

“I don’t think I wanna meet her, honestly.”

“Because she’s my ex?”

“Yeah. I’d be jealous.” Lukas cracks a grin at that, but you're partially serious. You rise up from your spot in his lap, moving to sit so you face him, legs crossed in front of you. “For real! How come she gets your blood and I don’t?”

“You want my blood?” His eyebrows furrow, a genuinely surprised look spreading over his features.

“I dunno… maybe.” You blush a little at the strange admission and bring a hand up to push your hair back. “ I just want all of you.”

A cheeky smile returns to Lukas’s lips at the confession. “You’re almost as crazy as I am.”

You don’t respond to that, just move a hand to jokingly push him away. A move that causes Lukas to retaliate by bringing a hand to your chin and pulling you into a soft kiss. You huddle up together to finish the film, with him actually focused on the screen and yourself slowly drifting to sleep. When the movie finishes, you’re fast asleep, head resting gently on Lukas’s shoulder as quiet snores leave your mouth. You don’t see the smile that rests on Lukas’s mouth when he notices you. You don’t see the gentle kiss he presses to your forehead before he picks you up and carries you to bed for the night.

You wake up in the early hours of the morning, moonlight still shining through the large windows to illuminate the room in front of you. Your hair is spread out on the pillow like a circlet around your head. As you roll from your position lying on your back, the sleeping form of Lukas comes into your view. He’s on his side, facing you, with his eyes closed and shoulders rising with even, deep breaths. He looks so peaceful like this, vulnerable in a way you’ve never seen before. You reach out, your hand brushing his hair back off his forehead before falling to cup his cheek. You can’t help but lean in and press a sweet kiss to his temple.

Lukas stirs, when your hand falls away, a lighter sleeper than you realized. His eyelids flutter for a second as he wakes, then open to reveal sleepy eyes staring back at you. A small smile comes to his lips at the sight of you, his shoulders rolling a bit as he comes further into consciousness. 

“You brought me up?” Your voice is quiet, still a bit hoarse from sleep when you speak. Lukas nods in response. A smile comes to your lips, one wide enough to show your teeth. Your hand comes up to his cheek again, the arm closest to the bed moving to prop your upper body up a bit as you lean into him. You kiss him, smile still on your mouth and he reciprocates with twice the force. His hand comes to your waist, pulling your body in close to him as he deepens the kiss, tongue tapping against your lips for permission. 

You allow him entrance, his tongue moving to trace on the roof of your mouth as you let out a soft moan. Your hips tilt into his, pressing your mound to the growing bulge in his fleece pajama pants. The effect is instant, a delicious pressure against your clit that pulls a soft gasp from your throat. Lukas shifts your position, rolling onto his back and using the hand on your waist to pull you to a straddling seat on his lap. He’s still laying down, with you now supporting yourself with a hand to be almost crawling on top of him. 

His pants his feet on the bed, allowing him to slowly roll his hips into yours, grinding you on on his bulge with the hands on your waist. You can’t help moving back from the kiss then, an involuntary moan leaving your mouth at the unexpected sensation. Lukas’s mouth moves to your neck, sucking a mark onto your skin before nipping hard enough to earn a small squeal from deep in your throat. You grind your hips into his again, moving back from your place on your hands to sit upright on Lukas’s lap. His lips follow you for a moment as you move before he drops his head back against the pillow, mouth open and breathing heavy.

Your hands move to Lukas’s chest, bracing yourself as you rock your hips into the hard outline of his cock. A muted hum rumbles through his chest at the feeling, his hands moving to grip your ass and encourage your movements. Your motions are a bit delicate, but your body responds all the same. The heat between your legs builds, shocks running down your thighs at the pressure on your clit. A steady stream of sighs fall from your mouth, a blush gracing your cheeks at the unrestrained showing of your pleasure. Your head falls back a bit, eyes shutting with heavy lids as your face is turned towards the ceiling.

“You’re so perfect.” Lukas briefly moves a hand from your hip to push himself into a seated position. His lips fall to your neck again, peppering you with small kisses and bites, then brushing against your ear. “You’re gorgeous like this, all needy and wanting.”

You can’t argue with that, your moans speaking for themselves. In response, you move to capture his mouth again in a passionate kiss, your sounds muffled against his skin. Lukas’s hands begin helping your movements, creating a steady rhythm of rolling and grinding. It’s too much and not enough at the same time. Your thighs shake with the pressure on your clit, but your core clenches around nothing, feeling terribly empty. You pull back from Lukas’s mouth as a truly desperate whimper leaves your lips.

“I want you.” The confession is breathless, your eyes heavily lidded and your chest rising and falling quickly.

“You have me.” He plants a kiss to your chin, your hand coming up to his jaw.

“No, I mean…” You sigh for a moment, heat creeping up your back at the strange embarrassment you feel. “I want you inside of me. I want you to fuck me.”

Lukas pauses at that, his head moving to look you deeply in the eyes. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.” There’s no hesitation in your answer, him barely finishing his question before you respond. “Please, Lukas.”

He nods, a gentle smile on his lips as he leans back into you with a quick kiss. When you separate, he gently moves you off his hips. You land in a seated position, knees bent with feet planted on the bed and arms behind you to brace your back up off the bed. Lukas moves on top of you, slotting himself between your legs as he sits back on his knees. His fingers come to rub small circles on the exposed skin of your lower thighs. 

“Can I take these off? And your panties?” His voice is low and thick with his accent, barely a whisper as he asks. You nod, spreading your legs a little wider to accommodate the clothing removal. He leans into you, hands moving to the waistband of your casual shorts before slowly pulling them down. You lift your hips a bit, helping as Lukas eases the fabric down the curve of your ass. He moves back from between your legs as the garment moves down your thighs, quickly working them down to your ankles before discarding them completely. Your skin exposed, your body spread out beneath him, you instinctually move to press your knees together.

Lukas just chuckles lowly, a lopsided smirk on his lips as he gently presses your knees back apart. His fingers slowly move to the inside of your thighs, snaking closer to your core. His hands land right under the swell of your ass, cupping your sighs there as he bends to look at your slit. You’re embarrassingly wet, already so worked up after just a little dry humping. Gently, so gently, his thumb moves to part your folds, brushing gently against your clit and causing you to squirm under his touch.

“Shh, I know… I gotta make you cum at least once before you’re ready to take me.” He doesn’t move from his place between your legs, just directs his words up to you. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

You give a small hum in acknowledgement, moving to let your back fall against the covers, a pillow under your head to allow you to continue watching Lukas. His movements are slow, borderline teasing as he begins his work. A finger comes to your clit, beginning to toy with it in small circles. The effect is instant, growing the heat between your legs at a pace that never fails to amaze you. Gradually, Lukas’s movements increase, both in pressure and speed. Your chest heaves as the gasps leaving your throat grow louder and louder. You’re so lost in the pleasure, don’t even realize your hips are bucking against his touch until Matsson’s hand migrates to push your pelvis back against the bed, anchoring you in place.

His thumb remains on your clit, with his middle finger moving to gently prod against your entrance. Delicately, so delicately, his finger slides in. The movement is easy, no stretching against his width, though his finger is longer than you’ve had before, tapping further back in your cunt than your own fingers ever have. It feels divine to finally have something to clench down on, your silk walls tightening against his digit as he stimulates your clit. You’re already content with the feeling of being full, well, fuller than you’ve been before. But then, Lukas moves. He crooks his finger up, gently beginning to thrust it back and forth into you. 

The pad of his finger easily finds the spongy spot inside you, sending shock waves through your core. It’s only a few thrusts before you’re cumming, tension in your lower stomach finally peaking as your legs shake around Lukas. Your head rolls back, back arching up from the bed as a moan rips through your body. Lukas groans with you, fingers still moving as he fucks you through your orgasm. As your breathing regulates, you whine, a hand coming down to feebly push him away. 

“Good girl… Come on, give me one more.” Lukas’s voice is a low growl as he speaks, slowing his motions while his eyes flick up to yours. “You can take it.”

His ring finger moves, slowly pressing in to join his middle finger deep in your pussy. This time, there’s a stretch. The wetness helps, slicking his skin enough to not provide too much resistance. Even so, there’s a slight stinging sensation between your thighs as you get used to the new feeling. Lukas’s two fingers are the widest thing you’ve taken so far, and he knows it, taking a moment to let you adjust before he begins moving again. A mewl escapes your lips as his fingers take a hook shape, the pressure you previously felt on your g-spot intensified by the extra weight. 

Your hands grasp against the sheets near your hips, finding no purchase as the pleasure in your core begins to build again. When he brushes your clit again, you nearly pull away. The bundle of nerves is throbbing, hyper-sensitive from your first peak and incredibly responsive to Lukas’s touch. It’s almost too much, but it feels so good you lean into his pressure, hips gently rolling to meet his thrusts while he softly plays with your clit. Your fingers travel to the oversized t-shirt you wear, tangling in the fabric there, gently pulling in up to expose more of your stomach. Lukas’s hand on your hip moves up, exploring the new skin as he doubles his efforts on your pussy.

Gasps and faint moans fill the air as electric shocks run down your thighs. Soft words of “please” and “yes” leave your lips as you begin to reach your climax. What sends you over the edge is the feeling of Lukas’s nails as he gently rakes his fingers down your skin. The climax hits you like a wave, satisfaction running through your body with a heat that makes you gasp and whimper for more. Your eyes fall shut as you cum this time, hips moving against your will as your legs fall further open, limp with pleasure. You take time to catch your breath, leaving your eyes shut while you feel Lukas slowly withdraw his digits from you. It’s a strange feeling, being empty again, clenching around nothing in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

The bed shifts as Lukas moves, sitting up to pull his shirt over his head. You open your eyes at the sound of fabric rustling, vision still heavily lidded. His muscles are toned, skin lightly tanned and blonde hair growing a pattern on his chest. Your gaze draws down to the small trail of hair below his navel, disappearing underneath the waistband of his pants. He notices you looking, giving you a goofy smirk before he moves to cover your body with his.

“How do you feel?” His face is close as he talks, gazing into you with his icy blue eyes. You can’t help the smile that breaks out on your face, giggly and blissed out as you respond.

“So good.” Your hands move to his chest, fingers lacing into his light hair as you gently stroke over his muscles. “Will you help me with my top?”

The grin on his face speaks for itself, his hands moving to pull the fabric of your shirt over your head, you helping by shifting your weight. When your chest is exposed, Lukas immediately palms your tits. He squeezes, gently rolls your nipples between his fingers, smirks at the way this causes you to moan. It’s not long before his mouth dips to press kisses along your collarbones, falling to your breasts before he takes a nipple into his mouth, biting and sucking on the skin. Your hand moves to his hair, gasping and arching your back to press yourself against him harder. He chuckles in response, the hum vibrating through your body.

“Lukas…” You don’t have to finish your sentence for him to know what you mean. Know what you’re asking for. He presses a parting kiss to your chest, just between your breasts. Lukas sits back on his legs before moving to stand off the bed, making quick work of his pants as he strips them down his legs. His cock springs up, tip already glistening wet with pre-cum as he approaches you again.

You bite your lower lip at the sight, half from anxiety, half from arousal. He moves between your thighs, sitting up on his knees as he wraps a hand around the base of his shaft. His other hand comes to your thigh, spreading your legs wider as he slots himself in the space between them. Lukas is so close to you now, the front of his thighs pressing against the bottom of yours. His cock hovers over your mound, hand moving to gently stroke up his length while he looks down at you. Your breath comes deep and measured. You don’t blink under his stare, don’t look away, just gaze back into his eyes with the same intensity.

Lukas moves slowly, bending at the waist, his hand traveling to brace himself as he covers your body in his. The kiss he presses to your lips is electric, sending sparks down your body and through your brain. You can feel his cock lightly grazing the skin of your stomach, the realization making you moan into Lukas’s mouth. He swallows the sound eagerly before separating your lips, almost as breathless as you.

“Ready?” 

“Yes.”

His position moves, back to sitting up on his thighs as he begins to guide his cock into you. The hand that was holding him up goes to one of your hands, intertwining your fingers and squeezing. You feel his tip against your entrance, smooth and hot and large. Little by little, he presses into you. The stretch is instant, a stinging pain that makes you inhale roughly and squeeze Lukas’s hand. It’s not unbearable, but it is uncomfortable. Your brows furrow, face pinched with the harsh feeling.

“Are you okay?” Lukas’s motion pauses for a moment, his mushroom tip almost fully inside of you.

“Yeah- just… keep going.” Your voice is quiet and breathless, tinged with discomfort.

“Okay, it’s okay. I have you.” He presses in further, fully sheathing his tip inside of you, a movement that causes a small groan to come from your mouth. “Good. Good girl. You’re doing so well.”

You don’t respond to that, and he doesn’t expect you to. Lukas waits a moment before continuing to press in, so slowly it almost feels tortuous. The worst of the stretch seems like it's over, the pain staying constant instead of increasing like it had been. Lukas’s cock is heavy inside of you, the feeling new and pleasing. You can feel his tip pressing against every ridge inside of you, further and further back. Before long you feel him press against your cervix, a sensation that makes you jolt, pulling back a bit from his form. 

He frowns at that, squeezing your hand quickly before letting go to grab your hip. Lukas’s touch directs you to angle your pelvis differently, the movement causing his cock to sink further into your cunt. He barely has to press any further in before he bottoms out. His hand comes back to yours, the fingers that had been gripping his base moving to gently hold the outside of one of your thighs. You’re fuller than you’ve ever been before, and the pain between your thighs is slowly beginning to fade as he keeps himself fully sheathed inside of you. 

“Wait- just stay for a second.” Lukas nods, face caring and solemn as he watches the expressions cross your face. Your brows unfurrow as the sting in your vulva subsides, a low sigh leaving you as your body relaxes into the bed beneath you.

“Okay?” He notices the change in your posture, hand on your thigh rubbing small circles into your soft skin. 

“Fuck, yes. Move… please move Lukas.” Without the pain occupying your mind, you're able to focus on your other senses. He’s so close to you. His body is warm and strong and everything, everything, everything. Your clit is rubbing perfectly on his pubic bone with him fully inside you, your cunt feeling so full you swear you might implode. It’s so good, but you need more, you think you’ll die if something doesn’t change soon.

Luckily, you don’t have to wait long. Lukas nods as he hears your request, softly pulling back until just his tip is left inside you before pushing back in. This time, he brushes that spot in you, the one that makes your vision go white and your toes curl. You moan low in your throat, earning a matching groan from Lukas as you involuntarily clench around his length. His thrusts steady, a gentle rhythm beginning as he starts to really fuck you.

The pleasure in your lower stomach builds as he moves, your hips starting to roll to meet him in time with his thrusts. Each motion grazes your g-spot, sending sparks of satisfaction through your body. He pants over you, deep groans leaving his mouth while he moves. His noises blend with your gasps and moans, filling the room with the sounds of depravity. Your free hand had been grasping at the sheets next to you ineffectually, now you moved it to squeeze one of your breasts, a sort of anchor as your body rocked with the motions of Lukas.

“Can you… harder?” Your sentence partially trails off as you gasp, barely getting out your question before another moan leaves your lips. 

“Harder?” He confirms, strengthening his thrusts as you nod in response. The effect is powerful, his tip now hitting your g-spot with a force that makes your toes curl and voice whimper. You move instinctually, wrapping your legs around his torso, forcing him even deeper into your soaked cunt. Lukas’s hand on your thigh moves to your waist, gripping the skin there harder than he means to as he becomes lost in the change in sensation.

“God, yes. Please don’t stop.” You swear you hear him breathlessly chuckle at your pleading, but you're too lost in your own pleasure to be sure. The unmistakable sounds of skin slapping fills the room, nearly as loud as your noises of pleasure. His cock bullies that sensitive spot inside of you, bringing you closer and closer to your peak. 

“Fuck. You’re so tight for me.” Lukas’s voice is practically a growl as he speaks. You can only nod helplessly to show your understanding, too overwhelmed by sensation, too close to your climax, to muster any words. “All for me- you’re mine. You’re fucking mine.”

His words go straight to your core, a final push that makes you fall from your peak. Hard. It’s more intense than any orgasm you’ve experienced before, the pleasure white hot and blinding. Your thighs shake, back arches, eyes clamp chut, head rolls back. Lukas groans as you clench on his cock, squeezing him so hard his own head lulls back at the sensation. Your climax hits so hard you don’t even moan, just gasp and whine, letting the feeling roll over you in a wave. You aren’t sure how long you're stuck in this trance of pleasure, but when your eyes finally reopen your boyfriend isn’t far behind you.

Lukas’s thrusts have gotten erratic, pace stuttering and strength escalating as he chases his own release. He’s more vocal now, groaning and growling deep in his throat, little murmurs of praise coming from his lips. You can’t help but bite your lip at the sight. It’s not often you get to see Lukas Matsson desperate, there’s something gratifying in being the cause of his frenzy. His head is thrown back, his lips parted and panting, his Adam's apple bobbing with his heavy breaths. The entirety of his body is coated in a thin sheen of sweat, his skin hot and muscle flexing with his efforts. He’s a picture of sexuality, just the sight of him like this making your heat throb with want.

It’s only a few moments after your climax that Lukas finds his. Thrusts faltering, he pushes himself deep into your cunt, cumming inside of you with a loud moan. His spend coats your insides, hot and wet inside of you, a feeling you haven’t experienced before. The sensation causes a quiet mewl to fall from your lips, the sound making him breathlessly chuckling above you. His head falls back forward. You roll your hips against his a bit, his cock beginning to soften inside of you after his heavy release. This draws his attention back to you, a blissful smile on his face as he gazes back up at your face with heavily lidded eyes. He pumps himself inside of you lightly a few times before slowly, so slowly, pulling his cock from your body.

As soon as he’s out, you feel the warm, wet stream of your combined cum leak from your hole. It’s a strange feeling, being empty again after having been stretched so wide. But the discomfort is gone, and you feel blissed out and satisfied and closer to Lukas than ever before. The smile on your face is embarrassingly wide, blush pink on your cheeks as you gaze up at him, the two of you still quiet and catching your breaths. Lukas moves first, gently bending down to place a light kiss on your smiling mouth before speaking.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I feel really good, like, tingly all over.” You giggle, your laughter joined by his own light chuckles. “I didn’t know it could feel like that.”

“Like what?” His eyebrows furrow a bit in question as he moves to stand at the edge of the bed. You follow his movements, sitting up on the mattress with your legs stretched out in front of you. 

“Like… an explosion.” 

“I think you’re cum drunk.”

“Probably.” 

He laughs again at your nonchalant tone, moving to his en suite bathroom to grab a towel for you. You take the moment of calm to raise your arms up, stretching your back and shoulders after laying for so long. You bend your legs, tucking them up against your naked body and resting your head on your knees. Lukas comes back into your view, moving to kneel at the end of the bed, his eyes level with your hips. He grabs onto an ankle, lightly tugging you towards him. You follow his nonverbal request easily, scooting to the edge on the bed with your legs once again open to give him a clear view of your cunt. His fingers move to either side of your slit, spreading your folds, a devious look on his face as he watches his creamy spend drip from your used hole.

“Hell of a creampie…” Lukas’s eyes flick up to yours, a small gasp having left your mouth at his touch to your sensitive vulva. He bites his lower lip then, cursing under his breath while he sits back a bit, shaking his head as he realizes. “Shit, I didn’t even think about protection.”

“Got too caught up in it?” There’s a small smile on your face, the expression calming his nerves. He nods in response. “It’s okay, we can Doordash Plan-B or something. Do you have that in Sweden?”

Lukas chuckles then, moving back with the towel to gently clean between your legs. The rough terrycloth of the towel drags on your sensitive clit, making your hips wriggle a bit in protest. He just smiles at your movements, continuing his work until he’s satisfied. When he moves the fabric away from you, your eyes catch on a red patch marking the white cloth.

“Did I…?” You move your feet to hang off the end of the mattress to aid you in standing just in front of Lukas. When you're comfortably standing on the floor, albeit on slightly shaky legs, you turn the upper half of your body to peer at the sheets behind you. There on the white fabric is a small blooming stain of red blood. It’s not enough to concern you, but it does cause a small blush to come to your face as you back to face Lukas, who is now standing in front of you, hands coming to anchor themselves on your hips. “Oh I messed up your sheets… I didn’t think-”

“Shh, hey it’s okay. It’s just sheets, ’s fine. You’re more important than linens.” One of his hands moves you to rub against your cheek comfortingly. You nod slowly, looking up into his eyes. There’s a gentle look on Lukas’s face, a look you only see when you two are alone. He places a kiss on your lips before speaking again. “You want to head to bed? Get some sleep?”

You pause for a second, moving your hands to trail up the skin of his back before they land on the back of his neck. You press your chest against his, the hand on your cheek moving back to grip the meat of your ass to stabilize you. “Yeah… or we could do it again?”

The rest of your vacation is spent in Lukas’s bed. Well, that’s not entirely true, it’s also spent in his pool, and on his kitchen counter, and on his couch, and against his bedroom wall, and in his tub… You’re convinced he’s trying to get you to stay, but you fly back at the end of the week as scheduled. Despite his very persuasive attempts. 

After Sweden, things get better. It’s like Lukas fucked the fog out of your brain and your back to thinking clearly. You cut back your hours at the office, maintain your work-life balance a bit better, though it’s never great with Waystar. You sleep better at night, usually falling asleep on Facetime with Lukas or reading his text messages. You even schedule some time to get your hair done, a task that your split ends thank you greatly for. You’re functioning the most normally you can given the circumstances. Lukas says maybe your reset switch is in your pussy, you say maybe all the additives and preservatives in American food were finally catching up to you. 

Even your status with your siblings gets better. A month or two after the initial shit show of Caroline’s wedding, Kendall reaches out to apologize to you. He tells you he’s staying sober and says he misses you, wants to see you in person, talk things through. You end up meeting at a cafe in Manhattan. Ken almost immediately tries to convince you to jump ship and join your siblings on their new project. To his credit, he understands when you decline. It’s not long after that meeting that your other siblings reach out. Roman sends a half-assed, jokey apology. Shiv doesn’t say sorry at all. But at least you have your family back.

Both your siblings and your dad are upset that you’re talking to the other side, but you stand firm in your place as a neutral party. Once again, you’re the peace keeper of the Roy family. You can’t get them to speak directly, can only make offhand comments to try and slightly influence their perceptions. It’s not much, but it makes you feel less useless at least. You’re sure your siblings won’t miss Logan’s birthday, so you hold out hope they’ll make up by then. They have a few months so it’s not impossible, stranger things have happened.

In the weeks leading up to your dad’s birthday, you visit Lukas again. You stay with him in Sweden again, this time staying only 3 days instead of a week. It’s the same blissful, honeymoon-esque vacation as your first trip. This time with even more sex, if that’s even possible. Lukas teaches you to give blowjobs, and lets you try any position you want. He’s even caring when he’s fucking you roughly, pulling your hair and swallowing your moans with his mouth. He cleans you up after every session, dries your tears and draws you a hot bath for your sore muscles. Again, he hits a reboot button in you, makes you go back to New York with a stupid grin on your face and your head filled with rainbows.

As good as Lukas makes you feel, he leaves you entirely unprepared for the firestorm that your siblings unleash on your dad’s birthday.

© secondhand-snow 2024

#ao3 #fanfic #fanfiction #succession #succession fanfic #alexander skarsgard #lukas matsson #lukas matsson x reader #lukas matsson x you #lukas matsson x oc #lukas matsson x ofc #lukas matsson fic #lukas matsson fanfic #lukas matsson smut #lukas matsson imagine #snow’s fics #a body of impulses #smut

[lumiaxz]

okokok imagine if baizhu and pantalone tag teamed. They literally look the same just a different mindset 😋

Double Trouble (Slight TW)

✮₊⊹₊⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆₊ ⊹✮ ✮₊⊹₊⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆₊ ⊹✮ ✮₊⊹₊⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆₊ ⊹✮

Pairings: Baizhu x Pantalone x Reader

Warnings:, rough sex, Tag-teaming, double penetration, face fucking, Dacryphila, Soft dom baizhu, Mean Dom pantalone, crying, brat taming, Choking, pet names, degrading, (almost) blacking out , hate-fuck. Lmk if I missed anyyyy

A/N: This is kinda…sad? I would definitely read with caution idkk 🧐

✮₊⊹₊⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆₊ ⊹✮ ✮₊⊹₊⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆₊ ⊹✮ ✮₊⊹₊⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆₊ ⊹✮

Pantalone is beyond tired of your bullshit, You don’t give 2 flying fucks about anything or anyone but yourself. It doesn’t matter what he does, you don’t care and continue doing it. Fucking you till you can’t speak or walk, does nothing. Choking till you pass out multiple times, does almost as worse of a job. Although Baizhu on the other-hand doesn’t mind it too much, he just ignores you which usually ends things. (usually) The other harbingers suggest just not allow you to come into the quarters nor near him but something about you tells him to not bypass that rule, or anything similar.

After a horribly long and stressful day, Pantalone rants to Baizhu about you, per-usual.

“That girl acts like she’s untouchable, it’s outrageous! How do you manage to just simply ignore her?!”

“It’s quite simple, just pretend you don’t hear her?”

After a few hours of his ranting, You skip into the pharmacy sounding bubbly and ready to cause trouble for both of them.

“Good afternoon, Pantalone and Baizhu!!”

“Not so fast, princess.“

He gets up and harshly grabs you by the hair and drags you into a eerie room. You struggle to get out of his tight grasp. Looking around, you spot things like blindfolds, random toys and seemingly handcuffs bolted to his desk, weird right?

Pantalone throws you onto his desk, but your scrambling allows you to constantly free yourself. Just as you think you’re avoiding these punishments too, Baizhu moves the curtain and enters the room. Baizhu grabs both of your wrists lightly and holds them in place for Pantalone to cuff them on the desk, to completely restrain you.

You assume they’ll try to fuck you to shut you up, which is correct but not in the way you think.

“I’m fed up with you, bitch.” Pantalone curses out

You’re bent over Pantalone’s desk, restrained to is aswell. Pantalone behind you, Baizhu infront of you. Strangely enough, nothing has happened, yet.

Your thoughts were cut short when you felt a harsh blow to your ass, it burned a lot, yet also felt…good? Except your body didn’t react how you felt. Tears streaming down your face.

Baizhu cups your wet face, lifting it up to meet his eyes.

“Aww, don’t cry love. This’ll be over before you know it.”

Enough time had already been wasted, Pantalone was far past patient with you. Your clothes were ripped into shreds within seconds.

Your precious skirt that you valued more than anything, into nothing but scraps of fabric on the floor.

“Come on, Why rip her skirt? It doesn’t take much to just slide it off.”

The wind in the room was enough to make your bare body shiver, not only in fear but cold.

“Stop fucking crying, slut.” Pantalone grunted

You attempt to keep your pride and ignore his order, even if you’re bent over the 9th Harbinger’s desk. Pantalone’s hand makes its way around your neck, tightly. Even with this painful gesture from him, you still don’t cave in.

He slams himself into you. All this time you been laying here, you hadn’t noticed him undoing his pants. He does this as a form of “punishment” all the time, yet this felt different, slightly more painfully than normal.

This sensation has your stomach in a queasy feeling, why?

“Notice anything different, Love?” Asked Baizhu

“No..”

“Your face says otherwise.” He says with a sweet smile

Pantalone swiftly speeds up his pace to cut your conversation with Baizhu, in jealousy?

The grip on your neck tightened, to the point where breathing wasn’t even a option. Baizhu notices that and releases you from the cuffs, how sweet, right? No, he did that only to flip you on your back and clips them back.

“You done putting on a show for her?” Annoyingly askes Pantalone

The mint haired one chuckles before stuffing your mouth with his cock aswell, Easily catching up to Pantalone’s pace.

“Isn’t quite nice to let your frustrations out on the one who caused it?” Asked Pantalone

“Somewhat, It’s hard to enjoy myself if I feel bad for her.” Baizhu says with a sigh

Suddenly, Their paces change and no longer match. 2 Different cocks moving in and out of you at different paces isn’t fun at all, for you at least.

A fuzzy feeling in your stomach adds to the queasy one, this time it burns, alot. Incoherent babbles and “sorry” spew from the corners of your mouth along with a bit of saliva, makeup that you spent hours on, streaming down your face.

Just as you feel yourself building your climax, it just disappears. Almost like it was just ripped from you, They both had pulled out. Baizhu pulling out was more of a relief, Pantalone on the other hand was more of a disappointment.

“Pantalone please I’m sorry..!” You whined

Weird, you were actually begging for him back inside you, almost as if you weren’t crying for him to pull out minutes ago.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.” Pantalone says with a grin

Quite ominous of him.

He unlocks the cuffs with a small key that was actually right next to your body. You were stunned, they made the impression that you were trapped but you just had to ask them to unlock it. That thought spun around your mind for awhile as you simple just sat there in utter silence.

Thoughts once again cut short, by Baizhu’s cold hands gently lifting you up from the desk, causing you to shiver. He was holding you like a baby, your legs wrapped around his waist, his hands on your ass supporting you.

Pantalone walked around his desk to meet you both on the other side.

“Just relax, alright?” Cooed Baizhu

The black haired male grabbed your ass and also helped support you. Somehow, you were managing your tears to not cry just by the touch of him. You were sandwiched between both of these tall long-haired men, Your tits pressed against Baizhu’s chest.

On the verge of tears, you managed to cough up a attempt to persuade them to atleast go slower than before.

“Pantalone.. I’mm s-sorry, please..” you voice, hiccuping in the process.

“Should’ve said that earlier, too late little one.” Pantalone says in a threatening tone

They both enter a hole of yours at the same time, the stretch is enough to force out a moan from pleasure and pain. The tears you had been holding back spewed out as they thrust in and out of you at different speeds. Incoherent “please” and “sorry” flooded the room, breaking the somewhat silence.

From your constant crying and stress on your body, you feel you mind go fuzzy and your vision start to blur more.

“Don’t you fucking black out on me, I want you and your mind right here the entire time.” Pantalone spits out in anger

You try to lay your head on Baizhu’s shoulder but all this time Pantalone was throwing you around, you forgot you also piss off Baizhu regularly.

“Not here either princess, no blacking out.” Sarcastically coos Baizhu

After a few more harsh thrusts they both come inside of you, filling you to your brim. Pantalone pulls out and cleans only himself up. But Baizhu keeps himself in you for a few more minutes before pulling out aswell.

“You alright, love? I apologize on Pantalone’s behalf. I Hope this reminds you to not bother us, ever again” Baizhu coos but with a hint of humor

You feel Baizhu kiss your forehead as he cleans you up.

Safe to say you never bothered them again.

✮₊⊹₊⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆₊ ⊹✮ ✮₊⊹₊⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆₊ ⊹✮ ✮₊⊹₊⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆₊ ⊹✮

#pantalone #genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin pantalone #genshin baizhu #fatui harbringers #bubu pharmacy #baizhu #baizhu x reader #pantalone x reader #genshin au

[chickenparm]

doctor's note (Wriothesley/dfab!Reader)

banner by @lemonemlyn my sweet..... :^) you can see the full piece here!

AO3 Link

Wriothesley/Reader (afab genitals, no mentions of breasts) 2,170 Words - NSFW (Mild blood kink, P in V, semi-public in that someone could walk on in, Reader's a bit of a freak)

---

If you liked the Duke any less, this job would be significantly worse than it already is. 

Long hours, untraditional pay, low vitamin D levels… Sure, you're allowed to leave, but then that comes with the caveat of being unable to return unless it's in handcuffs. 

Maybe the Duke's handcuffs…

Sharply, you shake your head. No matter how many times you've done it, stitches still need at least some focus to keep them straight and even. Not to mention the patient has been chatting at you the entire time. You've done six without realizing it. They’re a little uneven, but seem fine to the untrained eye. They’ll do. 

“Don’t move your arm too much, no heavy lifting. Do you need a note for the supervisors? You’ll be out of the coupons for whatever days you take off, but they won’t be able to use the absence against you during duty assignment.” You say, gathering your tools and carefully disposing of the sharps in the special little container that Sigewinne had recently provided. 

Again, the patient says something or other, but even after trying to shake yourself free of your thoughts, somehow they wander back to the other day when you’d seen the Duke walk by and his coat has shifted just enough so you could get a nice eyeful of his-

“Give me a moment and I’ll get the note written up for you.”

You bite down hard enough on your tongue that you’re almost certain you’ll have to give yourself the same half-assed stitch job you just gave this foundry worker. Thankfully, he doesn’t bat an eye as you finish cleaning up and disposing of your gloves, then move to the desk to write out the same familiar, rehearsed lines detailing how long he could use it for. 

The patient thanks you profusely, secretly tucking a few credit coupons into your palm as he takes the note. Healthcare is free down here in the Fortress, but some remnant of the overworld lingers in everyone and they feel some need to compensate you for your service. 

Your pay comes out of the Fortress’ coffers, but that doesn’t stop you from pocketing them with a smile and a wave for him to get a move on. The next shift will be starting, and he’ll be expected to report there if he knows what’s good for him. 

And then it’s quiet once more. 

Or as quiet as Meropide can be. The production zone is always a faint noise in the distance during working hours, a constant clang-clang-clang of forged gears, consistent enough that it lets you fall into a rhythm of cleaning used tools, restocking supplies, looking over paperwork that’s filled with Sigewinne’s little doodles in the corner. Is that supposed to be the Duke…?

“Keeping busy?”

No, that’s the Duke. 

You spin and nearly knock over the lantern on the table, blindly reaching to grab it before it can topple to the floor. At the bottom of the steps is the Duke, one hand wrapped around the railing while the other is pressed to his cheek. For a moment, he looks just as bewildered as you before he swiftly regains his bearings and pulls his hand away from his face. 

Tacky threads of red stretch and snap across the short distance, and you realize that he’s bleeding. Again. For the third time this week. 

Making a sound behind your teeth with your tongue, you cross the room to reach for his elbow and guide him to the bed that hasn’t been used yet today. The sheets are fresh enough to not smell like anything at all - almost the best you can get in Meropide. With any luck, by the time he’s finished here, they’ll be inundated with the smell of spices and black tea. 

And if you’re quick enough, Sigewinne won’t even notice you’ve swapped the bedding out to be ferretted back to your quarters. 

“What was it this time, your grace? Pankration ring? Breaking up a brawl over who got a better meal from the cafeteria?” You ask, pulling his hand away and gently grasping his chin to turn his head so you can see better in the light. With the light hitting its sharp angle, his jaw works back and forth for a moment before he shakes his head minutely. 

And when you don’t say anything to encourage him to be a little more forthcoming, he finally says, “Do you think I should do something about the top shelving in my office? Seems a bit weak…”

“You didn’t.” You murmur in quiet disbelief, letting your hand slip a little from his chin. His clean hand grasps at your wrist as if to keep you there. “A book…?”

“One of the old accounting ledgers. With the metal binding.”

Another sound of disappointment behind your teeth as you take better note of his injury. It’s a clean one, all things considered. Shouldn’t need stitches, just a disinfecting and a bandage, you think. But something feels tense in the air, and your fingers slip from his chin as you try to diffuse it with, “I think I’ll need Sigewinne for this one, it looks bad. She’ll mix up some medicine for you to down-”

“Leave me to die.”

It’s delivered with such a straight tone that you’re caught off guard. A snort of amusement leaves you, and your hand raises to cover your mouth. Wriothesley isn’t quick enough to grab your wrist again before you leave a few oval smears of his blood on your cheek, thoughtless of the hand you were using. 

Wriothesley’s hand is smudged with his blood as well, leaving little streaks on your wrist as he looks up at you from his seated position. Your weight shifts to your other foot, your knee brushes his, somehow you gravitate closer. Tea and spices and dull iron seeps into your senses, and for a moment you forget where you are, what you’re doing, and all that attention is shifted to who you’re with. 

Wriothesley, Duke of Meropide, His Grace. His jaw tweaks again, the light catches the smallest rivulet of blood welling up in the bright red of his injury. The smears on your skin are rapidly cooling, and Wriothesley is so warm. 

His tongue darts out, just for a moment, wetting his lip and catching the smallest bit of blood at the corner of his mouth. How does that flavor stack up against his tea, you wonder? Would he let you try? He’s never been a selfish man before now. 

A low murmur leaves him, just barely forming the syllables of your name. If you were any weaker, you’d have dipped down to take what you have your eyes on - that flash of pink from his tongue, the burnt red, the warmth of his skin, everything and anything you could get your hands on before he banished you away. 

But for all the things you want to take, something should be given in exchange. You don��t even get to make the offer before Wriothesley proves you very wrong. He can be selfish. It’s in the way his bloodied hand wraps around the back of your neck to pull you close, in the way his tongue pushes into your mouth and you’re treated to the taste he’d been savoring only a mere moment before. 

Wriothesley takes everything down to the very sound of surprise that leaves your throat, his neck bobbing as he all but swallows it and exchanges for one of his own. The bead of blood on his jaw is smeared by your thumb as you grasp and push, enticing more as he hisses between each movement of his mouth on yours. 

But then he grips harder against the nape of your neck, tugs at the front of your shirt until your balance is lost and you’re all but perched in his lap. Wriothesley accepts you with open arms, all but suffocating you with his scent, his breath across your cheek, his lips moving along your jaw and smearing your face further with the mess. 

His skin is a pretty canvas for the stark red that turns darker as it cools and hardens and flakes away. Maybe yours is pretty as well, with how he sucks marks into your neck and digs his teeth in hard enough that little crescent shapes will show what you did here today. 

Dirtied fingers weave into his hair and tug, and he groans against your skin before bucking his hips upward, grinding against you in a desperate bid for some kind of friction, some sort of reciprocity for you drawing that sound out of him. You’re a little selfish too, but he keeps sweetening the deal. In return, you press harder down against him, roll your hips until he detaches from your skin with a breathless sound of appreciation. 

“Mmh… -time? What time is it?” Each syllable drags his teeth against your skin, and you have trouble comprehending anything at all until you’re able to piece some semblance of rationality together. 

It’s threaded like beads on a string, loose and spaced out, but you gather enough of yourself to answer, “Thirty to twelve-”

“An hour, perfect.”

And then the bed groans and its springs squeal as you’re tossed down, trapped in by long limbs and a thick coat that cuts off the surrounding world. Wriothesley lavishes attention on your neck, your collarbone, his fingers working at buttons and clasps steadily. There’s more than enough time for you to dispute any of this, to mention that there isn’t really a door on the infirmary and anyone could walk in. 

But you don’t, because nothing quite matters to you as much as this does. You don’t get paid enough to care otherwise. 

Wriothesley pulls back, looks down at you as your gaze travels downward between you. A quiet laugh precedes, “Eyes up here. Don’t you think you’ve ogled me enough lately?”

Despite lying down, you’re not going to just take that accusation that way, so you shoot back, “Maybe if you didn’t make it so easy.”

“Cute. You think I just sit around in my office thinking of ways to be your eye candy?” He asks, hooking a hand beneath your knee and hitching it up to his waist, opening you enough that you can feel him against you. Hot, heavy, a pulse that might be his, might be yours. 

And when you don’t answer, his laughter curls beneath your jaw, up around your ear as he leans in, “You’d be right, you know. Now look me in the eye… there you go.” And as if to emphasize himself further, he rocks forward, sliding into you with one, two, three little thrusts before he can bottom out. Before the sharp buckle of his belt digs into your stomach. Before you’re treated to the pretty sight of his eyes unfocusing, just for a moment. 

And you don’t miss a second of it, even as your legs tighten around his hips and your mind grows fuzzy and thick. The Duke had made a simple request, and you’d be damned if you broke away from his gaze to even blink.

Wriothesley leans closer, drowns you once again in a thousand sensations from sight to scent to the incredibly full feeling of his cock driving into you with startling precision. Hour or no, Wriothesley fucks you like he’s only got moments remaining on his lifespan. Like his own thoughts have been just as consumed by you as yours have been with him. 

Your eyes roll, his fingers curl around your chin, another murmured, “Eyes on me,” and when you comply, his thumb drags along your bottom lip. Instinctively, you open, letting him press the pad into your tastebuds and you’re given the metallic taste once more. 

His thumb - cleaned, slick with your spit - slips out of your line of sight to press against you. The timing of his thrusts match the circling of his thumb, pushing and pushing and pushing at you until your cheek stings with how you bite down to hide your sounds of approval. No door, you remind yourself with dreamy thoughts. It barely holds substance in the wake of his smile almost turning into a grin. 

It grows wobbly, the world growing less interesting to look at in the wake of his relentless pursuit of your release. Despite how much you’d like to drag this out, Wriothesley doesn’t seem interested in wasting any time on keeping you fucked open. Just for the moment, just long enough for you to dig into the sheets and a sound that’s near painful with how you fail to stifle it. Only long enough to leave darkness at the edge of your vision, and a warmth seeping out as he pulls away and presses another bloodied kiss to your lips. 

Another kiss to the corner of your mouth, his tongue dragging along the skin of your cheek, his words heavy against your ear, “You gonna steal these sheets, too?”

#mind the a/n for content tags #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley/reader #genshin #genshin impact #mdni #tw blood

[bordysbae]

Could you do aftermath of quinn or luke getting their wisdom teeth out?

“how are you real?”

quinn hughes x reader

“y/n, are you sure you’re alright to take him home after getting his wisdom teeth out? i totally forgot i had plans when i scheduled his appointment.” ellen asks you over the phone. originally you were going to come over and help out at the house after his surgery, but ellen ended up needing you to take him home as well.

“of course elle! i don’t mind at all. what time is his surgery over?” you ask, grabbing your wallet and keys from your desk.

“his surgery is done in about half an hour. do you mind coming to the dentist office now?” “not at all, see you soon!” you say and hang up. you head to your car and begin driving to the place ellen told you to. when you walk inside you see ellen in the waiting area, and sit down next to her.

“oh y/n hi darling! perfect timing! thank you so much, i need to get going but they’ll come get you when quinn is done.” “alright!” you smile and wave her off as she leaves. about fifteen minutes later the nurse comes to get you, and you follow her into a small room towards the back. when you walk in you see quinn with his mouth wide open staring into space.

“quinn, hi baby!” you say, grabbing his attention. suddenly he gasps loudly, “how are you real?” he asks you, making both you and the nurse laugh. “what? what do you mean?” you ask, unaware of what he was trying to say.

“you’re so pretty, there’s no way you’re real!” he smiles at you, very much loopy from the drugs given to him. “aww quinny!” you blush, as you walk over to kiss the top of his head.“call me quinny again. i like when you call me that”

“oh you’re so loopy quinn” you laugh to yourself. suddenly quinn makes an angry expression instead of the happy one he had just a minute ago. “don’t call me that!” he yells. “shhh quinny shh you have to be quiet” you say, using a hand gesture to tell him to lower his voice.

“only cause you called me quinny” he pouts and crosses his arms across his chest. as the nurse is finishing up paperwork you sit with quinn to keep him company. he then begins to start pushing the gauze out of his mouth with his tongue, which he was instructed not to do.

“babe you have to keep that in your mouth!” you say, rushing to help him put it back in his mouth despite how gross it is. “oh my god y/n! my tongue fell off! you took my tongue! i cant feel it!” he says as he starts patting his tongue with his index and middle finger.

“quinn you have your tongue i promise, now be quiet we have to listen to the nurse okay?”

“you’re trying to tell me to shut up!”

“this is gonna be a long day” you groan and rub your hands across your face. the nurse gives you instructions on how to take care of him for the next few days, and sends you both on your way.

getting quinn in the car was a hassle in itself, but driving home with him was worse. he’s sat in your passenger seat playing with all of the little buttons and knobs on the dash. he discovers the fan button and the air starts blowing on his face, making him very giggly. “what’s so funny?” you look at him as you pull up to a red light.

“the air is tickling me!” he laughs to himself still touching buttons. “why don’t you try and sleep for a bit. you need to rest when we get yo your house anyways” you suggest

“no!” he says, acting like a toddler. you roll your eyes and groan. who knew your boyfriend being doped up would be such a pain? eventually you guys make it to the hughes household, and you help quinn get out of the car. you lead him to the front door where his youngest brother luke helps you lead him upstairs to his bedroom.

“how is he doing?” luke asks you. “he’s literally crazy” you groan, making luke laugh.

“well, as much as you’re gonna hate me for this. i have plans in fifteen minutes soooo…” he drags out the o sound, forcing you to finish his sentence for him. “i’m alone to deal with quinn aren’t i?”

“possibly..” luke grins, making you playfully his his shoulder. before either of you can get a word out, quinn opens his bedroom door and starts walking down the stairs. “quinn, babe you need to be in bed resting!” you exclaim.

“but i don’t wanna rest! you aren’t in bed with me i cant sleep!” he cries out. you chuckle and walk up the stairs towards quinn. you then begin to lead him back to his bedroom, “i’ll come lay with you okay? you need to sleep”

“only if you’re with me” he pouts. “i like this side of you, you’re so clingy” you say as you close his bedroom door.

“you guys are you disgusting!” luke shouts, making you start laughing.

“are you laughing at me?” quinn asks as he crawls into his bed.

“please just go to sleep” you huff.

#quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes blurb #hockey blurb #hockey imagine #luke hughes

[heliads]

hii! i've been reading a lot of your four fics and i simply need more so here's my requestt, four x dauntless!reader and when she's going into the fear simulation she got scared of the needle so he calm her down. any pronoun is fine and if you don't wanna write it it's also fine lol, so no pressure. tysm i adore you!

y/n is so me for being scared of the needle

masterlist

Most people are scared of what is about to come. This is unusual– not that people would ever feel fear, just that they would show it. This is Dauntless, after all, the place kids born without inhibitions go for cheap thrills and a superiority complex. No one here likes to give off any indication of terror if they could avoid it.

This is different, though. This isn’t another day of Phase One initiation where you’re jumping over the sides of buildings or throwing a few punches. Those are tests, you know how to pass those. The fear landscape, however? Now that’s something no one has any clue how to handle.

The mystery surrounding it all just makes the whole experience worse. Even the few initiates amongst your numbers who’ve managed to win over some older Dauntless can’t glean a single piece of information from their already established compatriots about what you’re going to encounter in the simulations. It’s all in your head, literally. There are no limits to the nightmares your own brain can dream up.

Thus the first afternoon of Phase Two of Dauntless initiation finds a hallway lined with apprehensive trainees all waiting for their turn in the simulation. A couple of rooms are being used for fear landscapes at the moment, so there’s a slow trickle of traumatized initiates coming out of shadowy doors every few minutes or so. Some trainees take longer than others. Some are in there so long you half doubt if they’ll ever come out. All emerge looking like they’ve just had their heart ripped out of their chests.

The screams don’t make the waiting any easier, either. Every now and then, a shrill cry of terror will issue out from one of the locked doors, a clear hallmark of the mental warfare going on inside. In the beginning, everyone would jump the second they heard a muffled yell down the corridor, but hours have passed and fraught tempers have grown weary. Now all you do is sigh to yourselves whenever another victim screams, wondering how much longer you’ll have to put up with all of this before it’s your turn instead.

Waiting is only just that, though, waiting for some grander goal, and at some point, your time of waiting is done. A scared looking boy exits the door on the left, clutching his hands as if searching for wounds that aren’t there, and then your name is called instead. It takes a moment to get up, your body lagging half a second behind your brain, and then you’re out of your chair and down the hall before you even know what’s happening.

There isn’t much time to think between hearing your name and closing the door behind you. You look up and realize the room looks quite similar to the place you did your simulation prior to the Choosing Ceremony. At least there are no new threats. The only change from before is that, instead of some wary looking woman with sleeves pulled low over tattoos, you’re greeted with the sight of one of the initiation leaders. Four.

You can’t help feeling a slight rush of relief. Of anyone here delivering your test, you’d much rather have Four than, say, Eric Coulter. Four is just as intimidating, of course, but Eric’s got this way of making you uneasy. He’s too cruel. At least Four can be counted on to be fair.

Four gestures towards the chair in the center of the room. “Take a seat. Are you ready for this?”

You arch a brow as you settle yourself into an uncomfortable reclined position on the seat. “Was there a chance you’d let me out if I said no?”

Four might chuckle, either that or he was struck by an urgent need to cough. “No, there wasn’t.”

He disappears somewhere behind the range of your peripheral vision and emerges a few moments later holding a needle. It looks highly unpleasant, the metal gleaming in the dim light of the simulation room as if proof of how much this is going to hurt. This is Dauntless, however; this is not a place where you can afford to wince or shrink away from anything lest you see your rankings drop in a second.

You force yourself to stay calm, training your eyes on a bright red light on some machinery across the room instead of the needle puncturing your skin. The moment seems to last forever, and just as you’re certain that the simulation didn’t take, you blink and you’re no longer in Dauntless. In fact, you’re in the middle of nowhere, a broken down city where the wind whistling through shell-shocked skyscrapers sounds more like the howling of people than any tune of quickly moving air.

This is your fear landscape, then. It takes you a few minutes to struggle through that fear, and then you’re successively hit by a few you expected and some you didn’t, too. Hopefully, you’re making good progress, but there is no way to tell for sure. In fact, it’s hard to even remember that you’re in a simulation at all. The programming is too strong, too good at eliciting a fear response from your brain.

You defeat what you thought might be your last fear and find yourself in the simulation room again. Four is still standing over you, needle in hand.

“That didn’t take,” he said, “you’re going to have to go through again.”

He holds out the needle, which seems much sharper than before. This time, blood wells up when he injects you, and every second seems to stretch into hours. There is no light to stare at this time, and your eyes keep finding the needle again and again, no matter how hard you try otherwise. Your fingers clench into fists so long that you can feel your nails slice through your palms. Forcing your breathing to slow and steady, you inhale, exhale, inhale until you look up and Four is nowhere to be seen. The truth about being in a simulation comes crashing back to you, and you realize you must have finally woken up. 

Four walks back to you, brow furrowed. You wince at his expression, taking that to mean that you must not have done too well. It had felt like you weren’t struggling with your fears all that much, but maybe you were wrong.

“How did I do?” You ask tentatively.

Four shakes his head dismissively. “Fine, fine. Solidly above the average, it’ll keep your ranking where it is if not improve it. I just want to ask about your last fear.”

You feel the sudden need to look away. “I faced it, right? No problems there.”

“Yeah, you faced it,” he frowns, “but it made no sense. Are you scared of the fear landscape? Of me?”

You’re not sure if you want to laugh or run from the room. Both feel like solid options at the moment. “No, neither. I’m, uh–” You pause, trying and failing to muster up the energy to finish the sentence, then give up at last and spill your secret. “I’m afraid of needles.”

Four blinks at you in surprise, then laughs for real this time. He does his best to cover it up, of course, but he’s still unable to fight a grin.

You glare pointedly at him. “Thanks for the support. No need to make me feel like any more of an idiot.”

The corners of Four’s lips still stubbornly refuse to tamp themselves down into his typical stony expression. “Sorry, I swear. It’s just– needles? Really? This is Dauntless. You’ve done so many simulations. You’ll probably get tattoos. Needles are everywhere, and you came here?”

You give him a look. “There are other things to Dauntless than just needles, Four. I thought you would know that having, you know, lived here? Go make fun of some other guy’s simulation, mine is perfectly fine.”

“Well, you’re definitely not scared of me,” Four observes, “Still, it’s funny. Anyway, you’re right, I shouldn’t laugh. You’re free to go.”

Despite his solemn expression, his eyes are still twinkling with barely disguised mirth. You fight the urge to roll your eyes and let yourself out. Four’s voice rings out behind you, calling the name of the next victim of the fear landscape.

You don’t think you had that bad of a time of it, though. Sure, the simulation itself wasn’t the best of experiences, but what happened afterwards made all of the terror of it fade away somehow, slipping back into distant memory already. When you think about the fear landscape, you don’t recall the horrors of being inside your worst nightmares, just the way Four tilts his head back when he laughs, how easy it was for his cold demeanor to warm when he smiled at you.

Perhaps that is not why you view the second trial of the fear landscapes with as much dread as anyone else. Your friends are all huddled together with haunted expressions at the mere thought of returning, but you’re actually doing alright. Your spirits are only improved when Four calls your name again instead of Eric, and then you’re back in the simulation room and he’s smiling again.

It’s much easier for Four to revert back to that same state of good spirits. He hardly bothers with an initial glower at the beginning, already looking pleased to see you. It makes you wonder why 

Four holds up the simulation needle with a teasing expression on his face and you give him a sour look. “Don’t even,” you begin, and he holds up his free hand in mock surrender.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he assures you.

This time, Four pauses when he goes to inject you. He takes a seat on the side of the reclined chair, studying your expression for any sign of hesitation.

“Look at me,” he tells you, “not the needle, me. I know you’re going to be fine.”

Something about the way he says it, so confident in your abilities despite only having seen you go through the fear landscape once, erases the last of the worries from your brow. You settle back into the chair, and you swear that this time, the simulation doesn’t take nearly as long to kick up. The needle has hardly pierced your skin before you’re gone from this world and into the one devised by your mind. The last sight you see is Four leaning over you, and that’s the one greeting you when you wake up, too.

The simulations aren’t so bad after that. Part of that is because it’s hard to feel as scared when you know you have Four there on the other side, a calm presence believing in you every time. The two of you start talking more and more during your simulation time slots, and as you progress through the fear landscapes faster, your conversations grow in turn. 

One time, the numbers of initiates were swapped around a little as trainees dropped out and you had to do your fear landscape with Eric proctoring instead. You still got through it just fine, but the experience wasn’t nearly as enjoyable. You were with Four the next time, though. There were rumors that Four had complained and switched the order back to the way it was, but no one knows why. You have a theory, but you don’t dare bring it up to anyone else.

Soon enough, you’ve reached the end of Phase Two of training. After that, graduation from initiation is upon you, and you find yourself walking out of your final simulation with a glowing score. Your ranking is great, high enough that you should have no problem finding the job you want. It’s certainly the best outcome you could have hoped for, but somehow you still find yourself a little bittersweet that certain things will come to an end.

Four finds you later that night, standing at a railing looking over the bustling view of the Dauntless complex below. Everyone is active in some way, throwing parties to welcome in the new initiates or hurrying to tamp down their normal lives before everything is thrown into commotion by a new round of Dauntless jumping into the thick of things.

“You’re not celebrating?” He asks by way of greeting.

You lift a shoulder. “I will. I want to take a moment before all that, though. Just to reflect on it all. Initiation was hard.”

“Didn’t seem that way for you,” Four muses, “you were good the whole way through.”

“Even despite the simulations being my literal greatest fear?” You laugh.

Four smiles, but it’s quieter, more serious. “Even then. This was all you, Y/N. I was there, but it was you.”

You exhale slowly, look back over the city that might be yours more than you ever thought possible. “And now that it’s over? Will you still be there?”

You don’t dare to so much as glance at him lest you see yourself disappointed, but out of the corner of your eye, you can detect movement, Four turning to survey Dauntless as well. “I will be,” he decides at last, “I think I will.”

divergent tag list: @rogueanschel, @with-inked-solace, @gods-fools-heroes, @23victoria, @manyfandomsfanvergent, @ilovexavierthrope, @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

#four #four imagines #four x reader #four oneshot #tobias eaton #tobias eaton imagines #tobias eaton x reader #tobias eaton oneshot #divergent #divergent imagines #divergent x reader #divergent oneshot #divergent four #divergent four imagines #divergent four x reader #divergent four oneshot #divergent tobias #divergent tobias imagines #divergent tobias x reader #divergent tobias oneshot

[wwilsonbarness]

don't tell my boyfriend, it's not what he's made for

pairings:  sam wilson x reader

summary: you try hide your bad days from Sam but he knows you too well. (Based on What Was I Made For by Billie Eilish.)

warnings: depression, mention of bad relationship with parents, angst, fluff, sam being the best boyfriend. I think that's it?

word count: 1559

a/n: my first Sam fic YAY! 

Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) 

I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform.

masterlist

It’s been 3 days since you last saw Sam, not because he was on a mission or fighting a giant purple-thumb looking alien but because you couldn’t bring yourself to let him see you the way you are right now. 

Things had been tough since you graduated college, you had your degree, you’d done everything your parents had asked of you, but you’d never really done anything that you wanted. Your parents didn’t seem to care what you did now, you’d gotten your degree, you’d moved to the city, you’d got away. They’d “done their job” they told you, but what were you meant to do now.

That’s what has been on your mind the last few months and all the stress has finally caught up with you. You weren’t leaving the house, you were hardly eating, you hadn’t seen your friends in weeks. Then there was Sam, you’d been pretending to be okay around him, and it was killing you. You couldn’t do it anymore so you’d been avoiding him, first not going to his apartment, then cancelling plans, and now avoiding his text messages. It only made you feel worse but you couldn’t let him see you this way. He’d probably break up with me. 

You had bags under your eyes from the 2 hours of sleep you were getting each night, your eyes were red and irritated by the countless tears that had fallen from them. You hadn’t showered since you last saw Sam and that was only because he surprised you with a picnic in the park. 

You’d tried to enjoy that day but all you wanted was to lay in bed and cry, to forget about everything else. But more than anything you wanted Sam, wanted him to hold you, to tell you everything would work out, but that couldn’t happen. You couldn’t have him realise what a mess you were, you couldn’t risk him leaving you. 

So that’s how you ended up here, curled up into a ball in the dark on your sofa, crying quietly into your blanket and ignoring the feeling of a slight buzz from your phone beside you. You didn’t know who it was and quite frankly at this point you didn’t care. It had been like this since you woke up, you have no idea how long it’s been, and you had no intention of finding out. That would make you feel worse, knowing you’d wasted another day. You had no intention of moving at all, and that didn’t change when you heard a knock at your door. Just leave it, they’ll go away soon. But they didn’t, they kept knocking and knocking, until Sam’s voice came through the hard wood. His warm and gentle voice being the only thing breaking your almost comatose state. 

“Y/N? I know you’re in there, please I just need to see that you are okay. Please?” You felt your heart break as his voice cracked with his last word.

You freeze at first, not knowing what to do. If you didn’t answer you were 90% sure he would kick your door down. So you did the only thing you could do and walked slowly towards the door, cracking it open slightly, not even removing the chain. 

His head fly’s up from the spot he was staring at on the ground when he hears your door creak open. 

“Hi Sam.” 

“Y/N,” He goes to push the door open only to be met with the resistance of the chain. “Can you open the door properly? Please?” 

You don’t really want to let him into your depressive bubble but at the same time you wanted him, his warmth against your skin, the smell of his cologne that always made you feel safe. So you nod slightly and remove the chain. 

He immediately steps in and pulls you towards him. Your head finds its usual spot against his chest and his warmth seeps into you which instantly makes you feel a little bit lighter. 

“Thank god.” Sam sighs in relief as he wraps his arms around you, bringing his left hand up to the back of your head to cup it slightly. “I thought something had happened to you when you didn’t answer your phone all day, I was so worried about you baby.” 

All day? You had no clue that much time had passed, and now you were angry at yourself for worrying Sam, he doesn’t deserve all this. He deserves someone better. 

You start to feel your eyes burning as more tears threaten their escape. “I’m sorry Sammy.” 

“Hey, none of that, okay? You wanna tell me what’s going on?” 

Sam had kind of guessed what was happening, sure he mostly had experience working with Vets with PTSD, but he definitely knew the tell tale signs of depression. So when you started to pull away, and started acting not quite like yourself he had made sure to clear his schedule as much as he could to be there for you.

“I.. I don’t really know.”

“That’s okay baby. Can I stay with you for a bit?” 

You shake your head against his chest and start to pull away from him as it hits you how you look, how your apartment looks. Panic starts to overtake every other emotion already running though you. “Oh my god. The mess and I haven’t even- I look so gross and I didn’t-“ 

Sam cuts you off before you can spiral more. “Hey, take a breath. It’s okay.” 

“It’s not okay, nothing is okay anymore.” He guides you to the sofa gently and sits beside you, slightly turning himself in your direction. 

“Try and breathe for me, okay? In and out. Copy me.” You try to listen and copy his breathing. “That’s it, good girl. You're doing such a good job baby.” 

“I don’t know what to do anymore.” 

“What do you mean?” He replies, with a hint of confusion. 

You shake your head before continuing. “No, I don’t want to burden you Sam. You can leave if you want to, I’d understand.” You were so sure he’d leave, there was no way he could want to stay with you now. Right? Deep down you knew your brain was lying to you but you didn’t have it in you to fight what it was so easily telling you. 

“Baby,” He looks at you with pure concern and love in his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere, you can tell me what’s wrong, you can tell me anything.” 

You look down and start to play with your sleeves before you answer him. “It’s not what you’re made for, you don’t deserve to have to pick up all the pieces everytime I fall apart. You deserve someone who’s happy, and I…” You pause to try and figure out how to say what you are feeling. “I think I forgot how to be happy.” It comes out as an almost whisper, in fear of it chasing him away. 

Sam’s heart breaks hearing how you are feeling, he’s never felt this much love for someone or something before and wants nothing more than for you to be okay. He needs you to know how much you mean to him. 

“Y/N, look at me?” You shakily bring your eyes back up to him. “That’s exactly what I was made for, you’re everything to me and I want to help you in any way that I can. Who was there when I beat myself up for Karli’s death? You. Who picked me back up again when I worked myself too hard? You did. So please, let me help you. Let me in. I will be here to pick up every little piece of you for as long as you will have me.” 

The tears had managed to find an escape route now, and were freely rolling down your cheeks. You knew Sam loved you, he’d told you every chance he got and you hated that your brain could convince you otherwise.

“I love you Sam.” He brings his lips to your forehead and places a gentle kiss. 

“And I love you too, so much, and whenever you’re ready to talk, I’m here to listen, okay?” 

“Okay..” You weren’t ready to talk yet, you just wanted him. “Could you just hold me for now?” 

“Of course, anything you want.” 

He lays back on the sofa and brings you into his lap. Your head finds its place in his chest again, seeking his warmth. Things were silent for a few moments, each of you soaking up the feeling of being close with one another, until your stomach rumbling broke the silence. 

“Baby?” he asks gently but concerned. 

“Hmm?” You know where this is going but you try to play innocent. 

“Have you eaten anything today?” You shake your head in embarrassment that you hadn’t managed to do that.

“Want me to order something in?” You nod against him. “The usual?” 

“‘Mhmm. Can you get some of the-“ 

“Chocolate dumplings.” You say together which makes you both laugh, your first real laugh in a while and it feels nice. 

“How could I not?” Sam says as he playfully rolls his eyes. “But until there’s a knock at the door I’m not letting go of you.” He squeezes you extra tight to show you he’s not kidding. 

#wwilsonbarness #marvel #sam wilson #sam wilson x y/n #sam wilson fanfic #sam wilson fanfiction #sam wilson x you #sam wilson x reader #the falcon #captain america #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson fluff #sam wilson angst #don't tell my boyfriend it's not what he's made for #sam wilson fic #samuel wilson #the falcon fic

[reversedanatomy]

Finding Peace: Chapter 3

Summary: Reader and Darcy go to the bookstore and talk about R's big plans.

TW: swearing, talking about relationship issues

You stood in front of your bathroom mirror, fixing your hair after your morning shower and applying your skincare routine. First came toner, then serum, eye cream, lotion, and finally sunscreen. It was therapeutic the way you patted each application into your skin. You especially spent time pressing the eye cream into your eyebags, naïve to believe you’d relieve those dark circles in a matter of seconds.

You finished by brushing your teeth and scrunching leave-in conditioner into the mids and roots of your hair. You glanced into your own eyes through the mirror and forced a smile. Your daily routines made you feel secure, pretty, and slightly more confident despite your persistent anxiety.

You used to insist that Wanda should join you for every morning routine. You both had different wake-up times, but often she’d roll out of bed with a grunt to join you for a few moments of companionship. You two used to shower together, sharing the intimacy that came with massaging shampoo and conditioner into each others’ hairs. After, you’d both wait for the steam to defog from the mirror. You two would watch your reflections unveil as you laughed and hugged and shared kisses in the relaxation of your bathroom’s humidity.

Bargaining. You clutched the corners of your bathroom counter and felt tears begin to well from the corners of your eyes. You missed the routine, the intimacy, and the love so, so much. You weren’t religious, but if a god could bring Wanda back, you’d pray and pray and pray to them until they answered your calls. I’d give anything, you thought to yourself. I’ll go to church, I’ll go to therapy, I’ll deal with the drinking, I won’t complain about how bad it gets, you began brainstorming everything you could do to absolve yourself in the eyes of a higher being. Maybe then they’ll reward you with a visit from Wanda. Then we could talk, you continued as the tears asymmetrically fell from your eyes. Maybe then we could work things out and I could apologize for everything.

You brought the back of your hand to your eyes and wiped the tears. The sunscreen from your eyes intermingled with your tears, burning your eyes. You couldn’t help but shake your head, letting out a chuckle of disbelief as the stinging from your eyes caused you to wince. You reached for where your hand towel normally was but grabbed nothing. It was laundry day, and you messed up again by washing your hand towels without any backup.

You’d wait out the stinging by stumbling to your bedroom to dress yourself. You traced your fingers along the walls to exaggerate your minor, temporary blindness. You pulled a t-shirt laying on the top of your dresser and dabbed your eyes. A few heartbeats later, the stinging stopped, and you could make sense of your surroundings.

Your head was cloudy from all the memories of Wanda that pooled to the surface of your thoughts. What made everything worse was that the t-shirt you were holding was Wanda’s. It was from a band you two had seen together last summer. “For fuck’s sake,” you threw the shirt against the wall behind your dresser and turned towards your closet to put together an outfit for the day.

It took you some time, but you settled on a collection of neutrals to compliment the coming winter. You wore a form-fitting white t-shirt, a sherpa-lined brown jacket, and baggy blue jeans. Since the temperature was dropping, you pulled a yellow beanie over your head. You’d finalize the outfit with your white high-top sneakers.

You headed to the kitchen to begin brewing your first mug of coffee for the day. It was 10:11 in the morning. Darcy’s apartment was a 25-minute walk from your apartment, so you needed to leave in a little over an hour to make it on-time for the plans you had at the bookstore. You waited for your coffee to brew by grabbing a quick snack from the pantry. You had your coffee and ate light, assuming Darcy would want to go out for lunch later in the day.

----------------------------------------------

The cold air bit against your skin as you strolled through the streets of Chicago towards Darcy’s apartment. You tucked your chin down to keep the air from numbing your face and reddening your cheeks. You didn’t think it was going to get this cold so early in the year. It was barely November, but it felt like early January. You clenched your arms against your body, hugging your jacket into you.

You arrived outside Darcy’s apartment complex at five-before noon. She lived in an old brick apartment building along a side street that stretched up only three stories. It was a small building, tucked away from the main roads to provide a preferable quietness when living in a bigger city. There were two large windows that peeked into the lobby, revealing old wooden walls and muddy carpet. It was… cute. You reached for your phone and quickly sent Darcy a text stating you were waiting outside. It was read almost immediately. Darcy replied she’d be out soon.

“You look gay,” Darcy shuffled out of the apartment lobby and met you by the front entrance.

“Is it the shoes?” You promptly replied, glancing down and clicking your heels together.

“Sure,” Darcy laughed and leaned in for a hug. You received it warmly and the two of you started towards the bookstore. Darcy originally picked her apartment based on how close it was to the nearest bookstore. She played it off like she needed easy access to textbooks for her studies, but you often found her staring a little too long in the romance fiction aisle. As if clockwork, Darcy added, “I’m glad you agreed to go to the bookstore with me, Y/N. I needed some new textbooks for school.”

“Aren’t you only halfway through your term?” You asked, already knowing the answer. Darcy shrugged.

“Can’t have too many books,” she replied, puffing her cheeks. You rolled your eyes and kept your gaze down towards your feet. There was an uncomfortable silence, one where you knew that Darcy was holding in her questions. You refrained making eye contact with her. You were worried she would catch on to the stiffness in your posture that came as a side salad to your anxiety.

You two rounded the corner several blocks down and reached the bookstore on the main road. Its grand appearance always caught you by surprise. You weren’t a big reader anymore, but you always enjoyed the hospitable ambiance of new and well-loved books lining aisle after aisle. You didn’t need to be a reader to fall in love with the solitude.

You turned to Darcy, who was well-acquainted with this bookstore already. She’d been living in the area for years, so she frequented it often for whatever she needed. She pulled you inside and led you immediately to the section on foreign languages. “I haven’t really been in this section, so forgive me if I can’t help you much,” she said as she started checking the shelves.

“You’re fine,” you smiled warmly. “I just appreciate you coming with me.” Darcy was quick to look for the books you needed, so you joined her immediately. You scrolled your fingers along the titles of the books, scanning for the letter “N.” You couldn’t find much until you came across a small English-Norwegian dictionary tucked away between books on Mandarin and Portuguese. Darcy perked up towards you when she saw what you pulled from the shelves.

“Oh, shit, you found one?” She met you by your side. “Is that all they have?” She looked up from the dictionary you were holding and rechecked the shelves. She let out a small, “huh” and came back to you.

“If it’s the only one, then maybe it’s a sign,” you leafed through the book. Darcy’s demeanor fell quiet, and she held her arm with her other hand.

“So… do you really want to move away?” Darcy’s eye’s started anxiously scanning the books lining the shelves. You closed the dictionary and stared at your shoes.

“Yeah. I told you. I think it’ll be good for my mental health to get away.” Silence. You could feel your heart stuttering against your chest. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened between Wanda and I, and I really want to just start over in general. I know I didn’t open up much about what happened between her and I, but it really fucking ruined me-“

“Y/N…”

“-and I haven’t been able to eat properly, think straight, sleep, or anything. I’ve been missing her so much.” You brought your hand to your mouth and held back your tears. “I’m sorry. Every time I think about her, I just get emotional. I don’t know what to do except leave.” Darcy put her hand on your arm in a nervous attempt to console you, but you were already in the process of breaking down.

“Hey. It’s going to be okay,” Darcy smoothed her voice out and gently traced her thumb along your arm. You nodded, sniffling. Clutched in your hand was the dictionary. You stared at the words and imagined yourself in Norway. You pictured a life in that small, unnamable town, surrounded by mountains that stretched over the horizon. You could almost breathe in the fresh, cold air that hinted at the coming of the first frost.

“If I move there and it doesn’t work out, you have my full permission to tell me you told me so,” you glanced at Darcy from the side of your eye.

“And if it does work out,” Darcy pushed away from you with a smile, “I get first dibs on knowing what kinda girls you’re taking home. I heard the redheads there are really cute.” You squinted your eyes in half disgust, half denial. Darcy was always right, though. Who’s to say that she wouldn’t speak this luck into existence?

“You’d get first dibs on knowing everything regardless,” you reassured her. You lifted the dictionary up into her line of sight and gave it a small shake. “We should really check out, though, unless you need to get those textbooks you were talking about.”

“It’s only halfway through the semester. I think I’ll be fine.” Darcy lifted one finger, signaling for you to wait. She reached into her purse and pulled out her phone. “If you’re going to move to Norway, though, we should at least take some pictures of your baby steps. Momma’s proud of you, y’know.” You wanted to throw up, but this was Darcy, and this was the reason you stayed so long in this friendship.

“Fuck, fine, but you’re using my phone. Your camera quality is shit, and, if we’re creating memories, I’d at least like to be able to recognize myself when I look back on them twenty years from now.” You reached into your coat pocket and produced your phone. “Also, there’s still no guarantee I’ll be moving there.”

Darcy took your phone with a grunt and told you to line up against the bookshelves with your new dictionary. You looked like a child at her first day of preschool, only taller and more butch. Darcy held up the phone. “Say cheese.”

Ding.

“Um. Y/N?” Darcy lowered your phone and you saw her swipe at a notification. You suddenly felt off.

“Yeah?”

“That was your email. You got a notification. That Norway job wants to schedule an interview.”

You felt breathless.

#maybe ill actually start introducing nat next chapter #or maybe i'll just make more silly goofy hints #or maybe i'll just actually write a novel length POS bc idk shit about writing but i know how to make it long #marvel #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #marvel wlw #wlw marvel #natasha romanov #fanfiction #marvel fanfic #wandanat #wanda x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #slow burn

[sabo-has-my-heart]

Hi :D

I need to say that I love your writing very much. You're literally so amazing at describing characters and their emotions , their actions and the background as well!

Tho, If you feel comfortable enough - Can you make headcanon or drabble (choice is up to you) about Platonic!Roger Pirates and Whitebeard Pirates having a young crewmate that is very mature but is really self-sacrificial? By that I mean , they are not a fighter but don't want to be burden so they do anything they can to not be useless in their opinion?

So I did headcanons because I'm not good with drabbles. It's either 800-900 words minimum or nothing. I don't do drabbles. That being said, I hope you enjoy this, just remember this is just how I see them.

Word Count: 900

Roger Pirates

Roger totally pouts about you being very mature

You’re a kid, you should be enjoying life!

Orders the crew to give you as few chores as possible.

That’s not to say you don’t do plenty, just that Roger doesn’t assign it to you.

Constantly telling you to go have fun and enjoy the sunshine.

Part of you wants to, you want to make him happy, you kind of want to go have fun.

But what if you become a burden by doing so?

What if you cause trouble like Buggy and Shanks?

Nope! Not gonna happen!

And you go right back to helping out. 

Rayleigh has had to forcibly stop you before.

Actually picked you up, set you in a chair, and ordered you to enjoy a small dessert.

In his defense, you’d been working yourself pretty hard at the time.

The entire crew knows not to wake you in the morning unless necessary. 

It’s not that they don’t want your help, but they’re worried about you.

Rayleigh suggests a therapist. 

You got so caught up in taking care of things that you missed the appointments.

The crew honestly tries their best to get you to stop and relax.

They’ve seen you overwork yourself, it wasn’t pretty and they all felt terrible for not stopping you sooner.

You still find plenty to do though.

Them not telling you to help actually makes you feel worse. 

You’re being a burden by trying not to be a burden!

Rayleigh realizes this and you, Roger and Rayleigh reach an agreement.

You’re to do the chores you’re given and no more unless asked.

Buggy and Shanks aren’t allowed to ask you for help. 

You’re allowed to get the usual early wake up call, but you have to spend a mandatory 2 hours being a kid and having fun.

Your fun usually involves helping Crocus organize the infirmary or just talking with Shanks (and keeping him out of trouble).

Neither Roger nor Rayleigh are happy about it, but they accept that it makes you happy so they don’t say anything.

You tell them that you just don’t want to be a burden… They laughed.

They told you that you were a kid, the only thing kids should worry about is being kids, not about being burdens. 

Still, if doing a certain amount each day gets you to have fun later, they’ll take what they can get.

Whitebeard Pirates

Oh dear.

If you think Roger was bad, try dealing with his son.

Ace loves goofing off and causing trouble.

Haruta also likes causing trouble. 

The two try to get you in on their trouble very, very often.

Not that they do, but they’re really trying to get you to enjoy life. 

Unfortunately, watching them cause trouble and make messes only makes you want to do more.

Their jobs as commanders are important and they’re great fighters, but damn do they cause trouble for people. 

Marco, Izou, and Thatch help though. 

They keep you busy but also keep you from overworking yourself.

Thatch will give you easy tasks in the kitchen, Marco will give you simple tasks in the infirmary. 

It’s always stuff that’s ‘important but I just don’t have the time’. 

Izou helps in a rather odd way. He insists on spa days with you, says your company is relaxing, that he needs someone he can talk to but not like Ace or Thatch.

So you take spa days with him.

He actually really does like your company and it does help him relax, but it’s 90% for your sake.

Even Whitebeard has you help him. 

He’s 20 ft tall, Luffy literally fits in his giant hand! He needs someone to help him with small things. 

You’re young and small, so you do a lot of things he’s ‘too big’ for. Could he technically order things in his size? Yes, but that would be a lot of money when he has someone small who can do it for him.

At least, that’s what he tells people. 

You’re often busy this way but actually do very little work.

Which was their intention.

You’re a kid, they don’t want you being too grown up but they know if they try and stop you, you’ll find other ways.

So they keep you busy while making things easy. 

Organizing things, sorting produce, spa days, writing out various orders from the captain, reading off lists made by the commanders, all stuff that requires very little actual work but is still important to each of the commanders.

Ace and Haruta try to make their tasks fun as well.

Sometimes it works, sometimes it just annoys you.

Are they mocking you by doing this?

Whitebeard does have one very strict rule for you though.

No working after dinner, the time between dinner and bed is to be spent winding down and getting ready for bed.

Someone once caught you trying to clean the kitchen counters after dinner to make life easier for Thatch. 

Whitebeard ‘grounded’ you for a week. You weren’t allowed to help anyone with anything, you felt awful.

Ace and Haruta were assigned to you to make sure of that.

You never disobeyed the rule again.

It’s not that you don’t want to have fun, but you just really don’t want to be a burden to anyone. 

You spend some of the time after dinner just doing what you want to do.

#one piece #one piece ace #portgas d. ace #fire fist ace #portgas d ace #one piece whitebeard #one piece izo #one piece izou #one piece Thatch #one piece Marco #first division commander marco #op marco #op Ace #op whitebeard #one piece haruta #op haruta #op Thatch #op Izou #op Izo #platonic roger x reader #platonic whitebeard x reader #platonic ace x reader #platonic marco x reader #platonic thatch x reader #platonic Izou x reader #platonic Haruta x reader #platonic Raleigh x reader #edward newgate #whitebeard #shirohige

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(The Bad Batch) Hunter x Reader: Worried

A lil something for the Hunter fangirls!! Enjoy!

Word Count: 776

Warnings: Mentions events that took place in "The Crossing", Kissy

“You’ve been awfully quiet.”  The low rumble of his voice echoed softly in your ear.  As his gloved hand sought yours, you released a sigh, shoulders sinking in relief as his presence soothed your nerves.

You took note of Wrecker hauling a boulder on the other side of the dimly-lit tunnel, granting you and Hunter a moment to converse in some semblance of privacy.

“Omega and Tech have been gone for a while,” you said finally.  “I just hope everything’s okay.”

Hunter clasped his hand over your own, giving it a reassuring squeeze.  You relished the contact, leaning into his side. 

“They’ll check in soon.”

His profile betrayed no underlying fear.  No uncertainty.  Even while Cid’s bogus mission went awry, getting worse and worse by the hour, he’d hardly looked phased.  It was a wonder.

When the ship was stolen and the crew broke out into debates about who was at fault, he calmly redirected the team’s energy with the simple statement that arguing was not helping the situation.

While Wrecker grumbled and griped about how long it would take to dig your way out from the collapsed tunnel, Hunter made the argument that complaining would not make it go any faster.

He was right in both cases, and yet even you could not stave off the doubts that crept into your mind.  Would you all make it out in one piece?  Could you get the Marauder back?  How many failed missions would it take for Cid to turn on the lot of you?  And now, would Tech and Omega be alright?

His level-headed nature was almost enough to convince you there was no reason to be concerned. 

Almost.

Hunter turned to face you completely, the corner of his lips turning up.  “Everything will be alright.”  His brown eyes searched your face, measuring your expression, hopeful that his words put you at ease.

A familiar, nagging thought crept its way back in.  You felt the need to pout under his gaze, lifting a brow.

His amusement grew at your shift as you pulled away slightly.  “What?”

“You don’t exactly reassure the others this much.”

Hunter leaned forward, countering your withdrawal by gently pulling you back into his space, so that you had nowhere to look but at him.  You met his eyes and felt helplessly drawn in at the tenderness they held.  “The others don’t quite worry like you do, sweetheart.”

Your lips parted with a reply that itched to be heard, but you couldn’t bring yourself to utter it.  As much as you wanted to protest, his statement wasn’t exactly inaccurate.  Besides, it was hard to argue when his lips found your neck.

“I just…don’t want you to think I can’t handle things like the rest of you,” you breathed, hands gripping broad shoulders as he trailed a series of soft kisses toward your ear.  

There.  You’d said it.  The thing that had been weighing on you for quite some time.  The reason that you’d fallen silent in the last few hours.

“Not for a second,” he murmured.  “You are one of the strongest people I know.  I actually think it’s…adorable how you worry for everyone.”

“Adorable?”  You hadn’t expected to hear that word from him, huffing quietly.  “Yeah, right.”  Your breath hitched in your throat when he nuzzled against the base of your neck.

“Utterly.”  His tone was heavy with sincerity.

“Well,” you exhaled slowly.  “I was not aware of that.”

“You look after each member of the squad in a way we’ve never been looked after before,” he continued, lifting his head to meet your gaze once more.  “Before you came along, do you think anyone worried about us?”

His question pierced you like a blade.  Before you joined, the squad had been on mission after mission, taking on the riskiest of tasks for the sake of the Republic… without anyone to worry besides each other. 

You buried your face in his chest, squeezing him tighter as he sighed.  “Either way, it’s only a matter of time until we’re out of here and find a transport.”

“Uh yeah,” Wrecker interjected, huffing.  “You guys done?  We’ve still got a lot of boulders to move.”

You and Hunter separated, him rolling his eyes while you smiled apologetically.  “Sorry, Wreck.  You’re doing a great job.”

“Yeah, yeah.”  He waved your comment off humorously and stepped aside so you could join him at the wall of collapsed rock.  You nudged him and knelt down to start rolling the nearest one, stealing a look at Hunter.

The sergeant was at your side in a moment to help, and just like that, you were dead set on getting out.

#bad batch #the bad batch #bad batch hunter #hunter x reader #bad batch x reader #bad batch hunter x reader #hunter reader insert #sergeant hunter #sergeant hunter x reader #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch reader insert #sergeant hunter reader insert #star wars the bad batch #bad batch fanfiction #sergeant hunter fanfiction #bad batch fanfic #hunter fanfiction #bad batch hunter fanfiction