#this might be turned to a pinned post in the morning

[50c14lly4nx10u5]

um ah hm i guess i should

mk i won't post/reblog any. spoilery. side order stuff on here. like imma still reblog cool art that doesn't spoil anything. but. ye

i'll. ah. idk. how long should i do this? would a week after release be enough? 2 weeks? a month? idk. but i'll havta cuz. i'm gonna be scheduling spoilery stuff i see to be posted at a certain time so

#it's 3:45am wtf am i doing i need bed #this might be turned to a pinned post in the morning #maybe #or maybe the info on here will be added to my existing one #50c14l speaks #i'm going beddy byes

[penny00dreadful]

So does anyone remember that post that was like "Robin and Eddie meet when she does that thing that's like 'hello, please pretend you know me so I can get away from this person' then Steddie happens?" Because I do. I cannot for the life of me find it. If anyone knows the post I'm talking about please let me know so I can link it, this is very much not my idea, it's that persons idea but the brain worms got me so here we are. 🤷‍♀️

We found it! It's this post by @wynnyfryd Thank you Anon! Obviously I went in a different direction with it but this post was 100% my inspiration so thank you for helping me find it!

AO3 link for those asking! 🖤

Robin should be royally pissed off with herself right now. She would be if she wasn’t so damn scared.

That guy was still trailing behind her, no matter the twists and turns she’d taken down different streets trying to lose him and the only thing she’d gained from it was to get totally and completely lost. It could be something completely innocent, the guy might be coincidentally going in the same direction as her but she wasn’t willing to give him the benefit of the doubt if it meant keeping herself alive.

The distance between the two of them was slowly closing as she was followed through the dark and empty streets of the city, hoping, praying for some kind of shop or restaurant or something to make an appearance so she could hide inside but apparently Robin was able to find the one street in this city where everything was either closed for the night or boarded up.

Her heart was pounding in her ears and the beginnings of tears were starting to sting her eyes and all she could think of was how sick with worry Steve was going to be in the morning when he woke up to no missed calls, no missed texts and no Robin. She’d scoffed at him hours earlier when he’d offered to go to the ‘work thing’ with her but she'd told him she was a big girl and she could look after herself and not to be such a worrywart mom.

And now she had no idea where her phone had gone, if she'd left it behind or dropped it somewhere, no idea where she was and no idea of what she was going to do.

If she’d been a bit more present in her head she probably would have noticed the loud, braying, male laughter coming from just ahead of her and crossed the street to avoid them before it was obvious she was avoiding them. But as it was she could barely see straight through her tears and panicked tunnel vision while simultaneously trying to keep an eye on the slowly encroaching guy behind her. She was practically already in the group’s space and one of them had definitely already seen her though he didn’t pay her any attention.

But even through her blurred vision and panic, she finally registered what exactly she was looking at. Four men standing around the entrance to what looked like the diviest of empty dive bars, chain smoking and being as loud as humanly possible, but that’s not what caught her eye.

Long hair, chains, leather, denim, tartan, rings, tattoos, subculture. If Robin had to choose a group of men to approach, any kind of subculture would be the best option. They knew what it was like to be other. There was no guarantee these guys were safe, but they were probably safer than a group of frat boys.

The next thing that caught her eye that nearly made her cry in relief as she got closer were the patches and pins.

A rainbow ‘A’ against a black and white striped background pinned on one guys collar, a yellow-white-purple-black patch on another's arm, a pink-yellow-blue patch over the third guys heart and a progress pride flag pinned to the largest guys pocket.

Her people.

Without a second's hesitation she made a bee-line for them, planting herself firmly next to yellow-white-purple-black patch person who had a mess of thick light brown curls that reminded her of Steve’s hair. They fell painfully silent at her arrival.

The four of them blinked down at her, with her tearfilled eyes and wild aura of panic around her they were probably, understandably freaked out.

“Hi guys!” She called out to them, probably a little too loud, hoping her voice carried back to the fucker following her, tensing as she could actually hear his footsteps approaching now.

The guy with the longest hair and the pink-yellow-blue patch standing directly in front of her glanced quickly over her shoulder before returning his gaze to her. His face split into a wide warm grin, tapping her shoulder lightly.

“Hey girlie. We thought you weren’t coming, we’ve been waiting.”

The footsteps behind her audibly slowed down. Robin laughed, a little maniacally, keeping her frantic gaze on him, not daring to turn around. “Yeah, I uh- g- got sidetracked.”

“Eddie, what-”

Pink-yellow-blue patch guy, Eddie she supposed, slapped ‘A’ patch guy lightly on the stomach with the back of his hand, shutting him up as her pursuer passed them by, giving the group a wide berth.

“Hey, no worries. You’re here now, right?”

Pride patch guy kept his eyes on the guy who’d been following her the whole time, only looking away when he eventually turned the corner, disappearing into the night.

Robin immediately felt her posture slacken now that he was finally gone, the full weight of everything coming down on her. Her tears began to spill over and her whole body shook as hysterical sobs started to pour out of her body.

“I’m sorry. I’m- I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do. I think I left my phone behind and I don’t know where I am. We only moved here a couple of weeks ago and I got lost trying to get away and- and-”

“Hey, hey. It’s okay.” Yellow-white-purple-black patch person squeezed her shoulder lightly, keeping their distance. “You’re okay. Don’t worry about it.”

“We can call someone for you, if you want?” Eddie asked, crossing his arms tight like he was trying not to reach out to her, probably worried it would freak her out more. “Boyfriend or girlfriend-”

“Or romantic partner.” The person with their hand on her shoulder interjected lightly.

“Alright Baron from the Baronies.” Eddie snorted. “But fair point, Gareth. Romantic partner or friend or whatever?”

“Um,” Robin’s voice was still shaking. “I don’t… I’ve never been good at memorising numbers…”

“Me too, terrible at them.” Eddie smiled again, pulling his phone from his pocket. Robin’s fear and panic was almost entirely gone now even though she was still hiccuping and sniffling underneath their concerned gazes. They were all firmly keeping their distance, keeping any touches short and fleeting, not moving too suddenly, trying their best to make sure she knew they weren’t a threat and it was really helping her to start feeling safe again. “But we could try to find them online? Instagram or something?”

“Yeah. Yeah we could try that.” She wiped her eyes roughly against her sleeve as she shuffled over to Eddie’s side. “My best friend, Steve, he uh- he’s probably asleep and I don’t think you can call him if you don’t have him added…”

“You can send him a message.” Eddie replied easily, handing his phone over. “And if he doesn’t wake up, we’ll try something else.” 

“Don’t worry we’ll get you home.” ‘A’ patch guy smiled down at her while pride patch guy nodded along.

Robin sniffed again. “Thanks.” She was able to conjure up a small watery smile as she opened the app and found Steve’s profile, shooting off a quick message begging him not to freak out and explaining the situation as concisely as she could.

“Here.” She handed Eddie back his phone who glanced down at it for just a second before his eyes widened slightly as he scrolled through Steve’s profile.

“Oh shit. This is your friend?”

Robin nodded. “Mm-hmm.”

“He’s… he’s really pretty.”

That managed to pull a startled laugh from her. “Oh god, don’t tell him that, you’ll give him a big head.”

“Let me see?” Gareth asked, whistling low when Eddie turned his phone around showing a photo of Steve and Robin at their last pride parade cheering with the crowd, Steve with the pink-purple-blue of the bi flag smeared across each cheek and Robin with the pinks, oranges and white of the lesbian flag draped around her shoulders. “He is really pretty.”

Eddie snatched the phone back, cradling it to his chest. “Fuck off, Gare. I saw him first.”

Robin smiled again. “Any response from him?”

“Hm?” Eddie asked distractedly, scrolling through Steve’s photos before pride flag guy punched him in the shoulder. “Ow! Wh- oh, sorry!” Eddie frantically scrolled back up before clicking into his messages again and shaking his head. “Nothing yet.” He held the phone out to show her.

“Okay.”

“What’s your address? If he doesn’t respond, we'll find a way to get you there.”

“Uh…” Robin was drawing a complete blank, only able to remember her parents home address hundreds of miles away.

“Or tell us something nearby.” Eddie added, not missing a beat, clearly picking up on Robin’s lack of an answer. “What’s on your street?”

“Um,” she closed her eyes, trying to picture it in her head, “there’s a couple of Chinese take outs, Asian food store, paint store… there’s… I think it’s a tattoo parlour? There’s designs painted on the window, a tower on either side. I think they’re from Lord of the Rings?”

“Inklings? Is that the place?”

Robin opened her eyes. Eddie was grinning at her conspiratorially. “That’s it. You know it?”

“Would you believe me if I told you I work there?”

“No way.”

“Way.”

Hope was starting to grow feathers inside Robin’s chest. She could go home, she didn’t have to stay out all night waiting for Steve to wake up and never let her out of his sight again, she could hug her best friend and drink coffee out of her favourite mug and curse at their finicky fridge and steal his hair products again. She could go home.

“Is it far?”

“Nah, only a few streets away. Ten minute walk, tops.”

“D’you- I mean… do you think you could-” Could she really ask them to walk her home after they’d already done so much for her? Would she be asking too much? Could she be putting herself in more danger?

“I can take you there if you want? Let you get back to your… Steve.” There was a slight blush dusting over Eddie’s cheeks. Maybe he did have an ulterior motive, but it wasn’t an ulterior motive involving her. If she wasn’t so wrung out and aching to crawl into her own bed she’d be thinking up teasing material to lambaste Steve with. But as it was, she was desperate to get home.

“Would that be okay?”

“Yeah.” Eddie replied, bright and easy. “It would just be me and you though,” he held his hands up in surrender, “and you can totally say no, like if you're uncomfortable or whatever. Gareth is Grant and Jeff’s ride home and you’re still on the clock, right?” He turned to Gareth towards the end of his sentence.

“Yeah, but I get off shift in about an hour so could come in if you wanted, wait around in the back room until then if you wanna go as a group?” They answered. 

“I think… I think I just want to get home.”

“Okay, cool. No worries I’ll get you there safe and sound. Here,” Eddie pulled his phone out again, “I’m gonna message Steve to let him know we’re on the way in case he wakes up,” he showed her the short message only sending it off when she gave a nod, “and I’ll get you to navigate just so we don’t get lost.” 

He handed his phone to her with the maps app open, directing them towards Inklings tattoo parlour. He was playing it off like an easy joke, instead of another way to assure her she was safe. He was making sure she knew exactly where he was taking her at all times, he was making sure she had the ability to call the police or whatever if he turned on her, he was making sure she knew he didn’t need or want her address if she didn’t want to give it. 

This fucking guy.

He definitely wouldn’t be the worst choice Steve had ever made if it did go that way.

“I don’t know how to thank all of you, seriously. I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t run into you.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Grant smiled at her before hesitating. “Uh, I just realised we don’t have your name.”

“Oh!” She laughed at herself, feeling lighter. “I’m Robin.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Robin.” Grant held his hand out, shaking hers once she took it.

“Likewise.”

“And don’t worry about thanking us, just pay it forward, yeah?” Jeff said.

“Plus.” Gareth took on a nonchalant tone even though they had a smirk plastered over their face. “We’ll see you again at Steve and Eddie’s wedding.”

“Shut up!” Eddie scowled but didn’t hold onto it for long in the wake of Robin’s giggles.

She sighed once the giggles subsided, a weight lifted off her shoulders. “I look forward to it.” She raised her hand in salute as the three of them headed back inside, turning to Eddie as he held his elbow out.

“Shall we?”

Robin tried to suppress her smile but took Eddie’s arm anyway. They only made it down one street and around one corner, Robin clutching tight to Eddie’s phone before he finally asked.

"So."

"So."

"Best friend Steve." Eddie twirled his rings around his fingers. "Is he…"

“He’s single.” She answered lightly. “But you might be arriving into his life at the wrong time. He’s recently sworn off men.”

“Well we’ve all sworn off men once or twice. Men are terrible.”

“Agreed.”

“Is it because of a bad ex?”

Robin threw her head back with a groan remembering the giant breakdown that had finally finally ended it. “Tommy was the worst. He’s the reason we even moved out here, there’s nowhere to get away from an ex in a small town, you know? They’re everywhere. I’m not going to go into what happened, it’s not my business to say but it was bad.”

Eddie nodded, his eyes down on the ground, running through everything in his head.

Robin could see the tattoo parlour up ahead, the glorious sight of their apartment building just a few buildings away.

“Do you think… with time… he could open himself up to men again?”

Eddie had such a tentative hope in his eyes, it was adorable really. Looking over him, she thought about the type of people Steve would constantly thirst over, blip in the matrix Tommy Hagan notwithstanding.

Lithe bodies with full lips and giant eyes, hair he could run his fingers through and something unusual about them. Something odd.

He’d never explicitly gone for someone so heavily into a subculture before but he’d never turned them down either. And based on Eddie’s job at the tattoo parlour and the way he was dressed, he almost definitely had some ink on him. That alone would be enough to make Steve swoon.

“I think he might. Will you walk me up?” Robin asked, holding the door to the building open, offering Eddie the same kindness under the guise of doing a favour that he had offered her so many times tonight.

“Yeah, sure.”

They’d managed to make it up to the third floor, walking down her hallway before Eddie’s phone started to ping incessantly.

She turned the phone over in her hand, looking at the screen. “He’s awake.”

Robin, where are you?

Are you okay?

I’m on the way.

Please be okay.

Their apartment door was flung open just as they reached it. Steve was standing there panting and terrified, his hair a mess, his glasses askew, his jacket and shoes thrown haphazardly over his pyjamas.

“Robbie.”

Steve slammed into her, holding her tight before immediately letting go to inspect her face and running his hands over her body, checking to see if anything was wrong.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened? What do you need?”

“Steve.” Robin caught his fluttering hands in hers and squeezed, nearly crying out in relief just to have him with her again. “I’m okay. Eddie and his friends helped me.”

“Eddie-” Steve looked to the side, noticing her saviour for the first time. “You’re Eddie.”

“I’m Eddie.” Eddie gave him a short little wave and a dazzling smile that quickly dropped in shock as Steve pulled him into a crushing hug, his blush returning with full force.

“Thank you, thank you so much. I don’t know what I would’ve-” Steve took a big breath in and loosened his arms from around Eddie’s shoulders. Robin saw his eyes slowly trail over his face before very briefly flicking down to the pink-yellow-blue patch then back up. “Come inside, the two of you. Can I get you anything? Tea? Decaf coffee? A glass of water? Like, literally anything to say thank you.” He asked, ushering the two of them into the apartment.

Steve caught Robin’s eye behind Eddie’s back and mouthed ‘oh my god he’s fucking gorgeous!’

Robin snorted and thought to herself ‘sworn off men, my ass.’

#steddie #steve x eddie #stranger things #fanfic #eddie x steve #penny00dreadful #steddie fic #stranger things fic #modern au #eddie and robin #platonic stobin #robin and steve #finding safety in people through pride flags #I am SUPPOSED to be TAKING A BREAK from WRITING so I don't BURN OUT #But THIS would NOT leave me ALONE #what's the ship name for platonic eddie and robin? #is there one? #THERE IS ONE #platonic edbin #safety fic

[dead-dove-yandere]

A yandere you never see - one that’s always just out of your reach, and yet you’re always within theirs.

TW: Mention of kidnapping, stalking, mention of a blade

♡ - You had no idea of this admirer’s name, age, even gender - all you knew is that they must be a coworker of yours, as they kept leaving their love notes on your desk, each one signed with a smiley face - ╹◡╹

♡ - HR was no help - so you decide to do some investigation of your own. Maybe if you could catch this person in the act, HR would finally do something about it.

♡ - You first make your way down to security department of your workplace and ask to see the cameras yourself since HR didn’t seem to be bothered. It took a bit of convincing, but eventually the security personnel relented.

♡ - To your dismay and horror, the cameras showed nothing - you couldn’t see a single person making their way to your desk.

♡ - You mumble a half-hearted thanks and leave, returning to your office. As you walk, you take note of the positions of all the security cameras and realise there are blind spots, ones that could be followed all the way to your desk.

♡ - If the culprit was going to be sneaky, you had to get creative. You knew you might get into trouble if you try to set up additional cameras, but there’s nothing in the rules that says you can’t leave your phone behind.

♡ - You “accidentally” leave your phone on your desk as you leave for the day, setting it to record, hoping to finally catch whoever is harassing you.

♡ - Your stomach is nauseous with fear as you come in the next morning. You were finally going to see this Smiley faced stalker.

♡ - You check your phone, watching the video on fast forward until you see movement.

♡ - A gloved hand reaches towards your desk, sticking the latest note there, but their face and body are shrouded in the darkness of the office. You’re still no closer to identifying this mysterious stalker.

♡ - You have no more leads - nowhere else to turn. So when you finally feel that knife against your back, you think, at least you’ll finally see who has been doing all this.

♡ - Imagine how devastating it must be when their voice, that you still can’t recognise, whispers into your ear from behind, telling you to put on a blindfold.

♡ - They know everything about you, and despite your every futile effort to know who you’re up against, they’re always finding new ways to hide.

♡ - Even as you’re being kidnapped, taken to some unknown place to be subjected to god knows what, all they’ve ever been and all they ever will be is a Smiley face on a love note.

@mel-vaz @floresialwrld

Dividers Credit: See Pinned Post

#yandere fic #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x darling #yancore #yandere drabble #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #gender neutral yandere oc #gender neutral yandere #gender neutral reader #tw stalker #tw stalking #stalking #stalker #yandere x you #female yandere #male yandere #Smiley #Story

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: this one came out of no where.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

It’s uncharacteristically grim on the plains of Debray. Rains pelt the tall green grasses, flattening them in a slanted downpour that dims the horizon. Clouds blot out the daylight and lend to atmosphere of unease in the warring lands. 

Behind the castle walls, one can forget about the bloodshed staining the counties red, though it is all the dukes and his audience can speak of. The lords that bluster through those gates, sometimes at the toll of morning, some in the black swathes of night. You can’t count them all, you can name even fewer, but they come anon and leave just as brusquely. 

A peel of thunder shakes the land and a dark line limns the curve of the horizon. What appears first as a storm cloud advances quickly through the fields, appearing more clearly to the naked eye, distant nonetheless. Men. Another party fast on the approach. 

The alarm goes up at a man’s holler. Ethred, man at the gate hollers to the other men in mail. Niam peers out from the vantage of the tower and calls back down. A hush falls and bodies scurry all around, metal clinking and boots crunching. There’s something amiss. Something you can’t quite place. 

You turn away from the window, the steam rising from the basin in your hand swirling around your head. You carry on down the corridor, wool skirts around cautious steps as you balance the swaying water in the vessel. You approach the lady’s door and give it a rap with your knee. Merinda, another handmaid, opens it from within. 

You enter without a word and place the basin on the vanity table. The duke’s daughter preens herself with a painted fan, fluttering her lashes at her reflection as her curls spill down her long back. She tilts her head this way and that. She snaps the fan shut and puts it down, touching her soft brown cheeks with a devilish grin. 

“Do you know what father mentioned last eve?” Jazlene asks with a vain flutter of her lashes. 

“What did he mention?” Her mother, Lady Rezlyn prompts lazily as she plucks another cherry from a dish heaped in fruit. 

“A husband,” the daughter grins coyly at herself, “it is well due, isn’t it, mother? Who do you think it might be? Lord Gai, perhaps? He is young still.” 

“Perhaps the Earl of Mesafin,” her mother taunts back to a disgusted gasp. 

“Do not,” Jazlene pouts, “I could never... I am much too pretty for that haggard beast.” 

“Well, then, who might you have, precious?” Rezlyn goads. 

There is a clamour in the hall that keeps the younger of the woman from answering. She rolls her eyes and darkly glare at the door. You peer back behind your shoulder as a wail goes up carrying her father’s name; ‘Lord Dustan!’ 

“What is all that?” Jazlene whines, “as if it isn’t enough with the rain and the winds. It is summer!” 

“It’s always summer in Debray, darling,” Rezlyn scoffs, “otherwise I’d have never married your father. Pray you don’t hook yourself a winter lord.” 

You peek over your shoulder as you stand near the door, in your vigil, awaiting your next order. You face the ladies again as the elder continues to feast and the younger fusses over her thick brows. You scrunch your lips back and forth, a habit that often has your jaw aching. 

Jazlene turns to narrow her eyes at you, “what is it then? What has you making faces?” 

You bow your head, appeasing her ego, “my lady, there were men coming. A party approaching from the north.” 

“There are always men,” she shakes her head, “who was it then? Anyone I should wear silk for?” 

Her mother laughs, “I warn you, daughter, that trite tongue will not endear any husband.” 

“I do not know, lady,” you answer. 

“Ugh, useless, must I work as my own handmaid?” Jazlene tisks, “come, pin my hair. Merinda find me a gown. Mother... wipe the dribble from your chin.” 

“Eh, watch yourself,” Lady Rezlyn rises and wipes her lips with her sleeve. She wears muslin in a dark shade of burgundy, embroidered with little copper finches. “Or hope you marry above me before you lash that tongue at me.” 

Jazlene merely trills with laughter. You take the pins and work at twisting her fine curls into place. Merinda brings to her a dress of teal satin and is promptly shooed away, “something pink. It brings out my bosom.” 

You ignore her bawdy jest as her mother harrumphs. You work in quiet tandem with the other handmaid. You add a touch of paint to the lady’s cheeks and kohl around her eyes. You tint her lips with pigment and she pushes out her lips at the mirror. You help Merinda dress her, pulling the noble daughter’s corset tight enough to leave her lightheaded. 

The pair of ladies, elder and younger, leave the chamber with you at their skirt tails. They sweep through the corridors with chins up. They are queens in their own minds. Their fine dresses and sparkling gems are untouched by the disparity of war. The lives lost are squares on a game board, tawdry talk for men in their studies. 

“Lord Dustan,” Lady Rezlyn mimics the earlier call for the lord of the castle, “my husband. Dear, dear husband!” 

The women go to the banister and look down upon the great hall as the flurry continues below. You and Merinda loom behind, not daring to stand at a level with the pompous nobles. You have never volunteered yourself for their impetuous lashings. 

“Woman!” Dustan booms back up, “do not trouble me now.” 

“Oh, has another lord come? Perhaps a suitor for our lovely daughter--” 

“Cease!” The duke demands hotly, “now is not the time for womanly games.” 

“Tell me it true, husband, she will be an old maid before you find a suiting son-in-law--” 

“Go away to your chambers. Now. The men who come are not to be trifled with and you lot do trifle overly much!” 

“Bah! Oh do not be so uncouth!” Rezlyn decries. 

“Father, please, is it a husband?” 

“Go before I send my guards up to put you away like thieves in a dungeon. Hear me when I warn you that this does not concern you. Not as yet,” Dustan snarls, “you would spoil this war with your puny concerns.” 

“Ugh,” his wife puts her hand to her forehead, “he does tax me. All I ask of him is to take care of us, daughter. As any husband should.” 

“I should have your lips sewn shut!” Dustan rebukes hotly, “be gone before I find a tailor.” 

The women share an aghast look. The turn back to flutter away in their skirts. You and Merinda follow them to the drawing room, closing them in as they fall onto the velvet cushions. Jazlene reclines dramatically on the chaise as her mouth mopes on a sofa. 

“Shall I be alone forever, mother?” Jazlene snivels, “why won’t he let me marry?” 

“He only wants to find the right man, that is all, darling,” Rezlyn coaxes. “He is overprotective and that is good for it means he will find a husband for you with a similar bearing.” 

“Such sweet words cannot convince me. He punishes me. When all my lady friends have wed and borne a whelp or two, I remain with the dust and stone.” 

“Do not be theatrical,” Rezlyn girds, “you are silly.” 

“I am not silly, mother. I am afraid. I am twenty and three and I have no suitor. I have only a war butchering any man who might have my hand. Why must this go on? Why must I suffer for the gripes of stubborn kings.” 

“We cannot fear. This war will be won and you will have a knight for a husband. Isn’t that better? To have a warrior you can be proud of than some bookish lord in his tower?” Rezlyn stands and moves to sit with her daughter, petting her as she cooes, “oh my beautiful, no man can resist you. You will see.” 

⚔️

Some hours pass with the restless women, pacing and chattering, about careless things beyond marriage and war. Like needlework and a banquet that should be had upon the truce. Would that the day would come sooner. 

You and Merinda stifle yawns that pass between you. The act is contagious as you stand in the tedium of the wealthy and wait for a duty to be called upon you. The hours you spend watching the women preen and swoon make you envy the stable boys and the shit shovelers. 

The noise beyond those walls continues. You heard the moat open and the clopping hooves of horses, even the clatter of carts. The voices had since hushed but footfalls carried back and forth. The wordless activity betrays an air of impatience, almost of nervousness. As the ladies within mirror the sentiment. 

Finally, as the windows darken and the candles burn brighter, a knock shakes the door. The ladies snap their heads around. Merinda is asleep on her feet as you move first. You open to a man in grey and black waits on the other side. He is not Lord Dustan’s. 

“The duchess and her daughter,” he garbles through a mouth that sounds full of salt. 

You dip your head and look to the ladies in question. There is a tension, of unease, of unknowing, of excitement turned to dread. This is not as it has been. There is not call to the dinner table. There is no buoyant introduction of a lord Dustan met as a young scamp. There is silence and fear. Has someone died? Has a battle been lost? 

The women emerge and greet the man with niceties and tight-lipped simpers. He does not pay them heed as you and Merinda exchange looks. You trail after the ladies but the man stops. He turns back, a hand on the pommel at his waist, and sneers, a furrow in his brow. 

“One of ya,” he grits. 

Jazlene says your name. She must’ve noticed Merinda swaying on her feet. If she even cares so much about a maid. You keep your head down and follow as they press on. Down the corridor and around the duke’s study, recently deemed his war room. You’ve never been within. It is not the domain of women. 

The grey and black soldier thumps on the door. Mother and daughter clasp hands. Even they can sense the unusual frigidity. The door opens from within. It is Lord Dustan. He wears a serious look on his lined face. The ladies are beckoned in and the soldier nudges you after them as you hesitate. 

Lanterns light the space from the desk at the rear of the chamber. The large table draped in maps, wooden horses, and little wooden pucks stands central on a thick rug. A figure stands behind it, head down as his burly and broad silhouette seems to sop up the shadows. 

The ladies follow the duke to stand across from the man. His head is down as he slides a horse along a road on the map. He stops it and grips it tight. He looks up and the lantern light dances on his features. You suck in a breath, as the rest do, stunned by his appearance. 

His hair is white, his eyes are a goldish yellow, pupils deep pools of black, and his square jaw is just as thick as the rest of him. You have never seen a man like him before, but you have heard of one. Of him. King Geralt of Rivia. 

You stand in similar confusion to the ladies. Their silent confoundment is broken by Duke Dustan as he nears the table. He sniffs and presses his fingers to the table top. 

“Your highness, my wife, Lady Rezlyn, and my daughter, Lady Jazlene,” he introduces. 

The women glance at each other then curtsy to the white king. He watches them dully. You fold your hands, taking it in curiously. It is rather something to witness the scene. You are so unimportant as to not be a part of it. 

“Your highness,” the recite, “it is...” 

“An honour,” Dustan finishes for them, “of course it is. We fondly welcome you and your allyship. We hope that we will be essential in ending this war. In helping you attain the peace you have so valiantly fought for--” 

The king raises his hand to silence the lord. You can’t help but quork your head. Allyship? But King Geralt, he is of Rivia, he is of the hinterland, he is the one who invaded the summer country and bid it his own. He is the foe. That is what they told you. 

“Enough...” the king speaks in a silty tone that scrapes in his throat. His eyes wander over the women and narrow. You wince as your own meet his golden irises and you shy away, putting your chin to your chest. That’s a mistake. “...words.” He slaps his hand down, “you do not win wars with words.” 

“Yes, your highness, you are correct. I know it well. It is why I invited you here. It is the very reason I made my entreaty. You have my men, they will win this war for you.” 

The king is hardly impressed by the fact. He looks back to the table and moves the horse further before turning it back. He knocks it over and stands completely straight. 

“And the daughter of Debray, your highness. To have a wife of summer’s blood, men will bend the knee. If you show them you do not mean to eradicate but to join with them,” Dustan moves to stand closer to his daughter, “isn’t she a fine queen for a fine kingdom?” 

Jazlene swoons and falls against her father. She’s fainted. Rezlyn grabs onto her other shoulder and you peek up at the chaotic scene. You come forward to help, snatching a pillow from the single couch, and you place it under Jazlene’s head as they lay her down on the floor. 

A shadow shifts as Dustan and Rezlyn fuss over their daughter, fanning and calling to her. You look up as darkness clusters over you. You see the king staring down at the scene. No, not them. He staring at you. Before he can reprimand you, you put your head down. 

You must quit that lest you find yourself at the wrong end of a switch. 

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt of rivia #dark!geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #the witcher #winter's king #au #medieval au #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series

[fawnprincessblog]

can you write an thresome between tom bill and the reader (i mean that they both fuck you at the same time)

2 in 1.

type: smut (kaulitz twins × fem reader)

includes : d0m! bill & tom, threesome. uh, blurb please! : when bill brings back a girl, it automatically means tom gets his fair share. good brothers have to share. sharing is caring.

bambi's note! : hello sweethearts! so...i disappeared again...life has just been so difficult nowadays. school's starting for me, and every day is just a battle with life and everything that's going on at home. my writing block hit me like a brick and i've just taken a whole ass break from it. i'm so sorry i lied about posting soon, and in the end i didn't. i hope you guys forgive me :/ anyway, i get this request a lot, so enjoy 😚💗

“You don’t mind letting my brother join, do you?” Bill asked, his lips attacking your neck, light red marks decorating your unadorned neck. You were whining and whimpering below him each time he bit and sucked on the skin of your neck, the pleasure of that alone already turning you on harder and harder. 

However the thought of Bill saying such a thing made you panic. “T-Two at once? I can’t do two—” you quickly respond, making him pull from your neck to look at you. “Never had a threesome before?” Bill asked, his one eyebrow slightly raised. 

The night outside was dark. You were in a hotel room, pinned to the bed, your neck being assaulted by Bill, a guy you met at the bar earlier. Black hair styled in spikes, black clothing and dark eyeliner. It didn’t take long for the both of you to click and end up in this hotel room that Bill had said he was staying at. You found him attractive, and you didn’t mind having this one night stand with him, even if it did upset you a little that he might disappear the next morning.

“No,” you respond. You then pushed yourself up on your elbows, making him pull away a bit. “You didn’t say you had a brother,” you then say, your eyes narrowed to slits. 

“My twin actually. Tom,” Bill informed. “He’s staying here with me. If I bring a girl back to the room then he’ll always need his fair share. He’ll be here soon anyway so you don’t have a choice.” 

Your eyebrows arched in surprise. “You didn’t mention a brother earlier at the bar,” you say, a little bit in disbelief. “I don’t do threesomes. I’ve never—”

“Do you want this or not? Don’t be a fucking pussy,” Bill spat, cutting you off as his palm covered your mouth, roughly pinning you back down onto the bed abruptly, making you squeak. 

He was being pretty rough. You were a little afraid to start a threesome with Bill and Tom, who have yet to meet, but you had no choice. You wanted to just be with Bill but now you were slightly pressured to take both him and his twin. 

With a bit of reluctance, you nod. He pulls his hand away, and he grins slightly. “Good,” he says softly. “Don’t worry so much. You’ll like him. He’s nothing but a horny fuck.”

You weren’t sure if that was the information you needed as some sort of reassurance. However there was no turning back. 

“Ich bin so verdammt müde! ” a voice shouted, a loud slam of the room door followed after. You were slightly startled, and now some sort of fear started to creep in. That was most likely Tom. Both you and Bill turned your heads. 

Then appeared a boy with dreadlocks, his entire figure dressed in baggy clothing. From his shirt to his pants, he looked completely covered. Half his arm was literally gone because of how huge his sleeves were. You were in shock. He looked like his brother, yet he looked so different. 

The moment Tom walked over, noticing the two of you on the bed, he froze. You observed his face at that moment; he looked a little bit drunk. He was most likely drinking outside too. 

“You didn’t tell me you were bringing back a girl tonight,” Tom slurred, hardening in his pants as he spoke. 

“I did, you drunk fuck,” Bill responded, pulling away from you to let Tom have a look. You just lay there, looking back at Tom. “Do you remember what I said about you bringin—” Tom tried to say, and Bill sighed. “She said yes. You can take her too,” Bill responded, and a smirk tugged at the corner of Tom’s lips pretty quickly. 

It’s not like you had said yes, but you didn’t bother to say anything. 

“Fuck, you’re pretty,” Tom chuckled, walking over and taking his spot on the bed behind you as you pulled yourself up to sit. Now you were in between them both. You felt Tom’s hand sneak its way into your hair, pulling your head backwards slightly. “I’d like to see what you’d be able to do with this body of yours,” he said, his words slightly slurred. 

Your breath hitched at his words, feeling a slight sting while his hands had a tight grip on your hair. You weren’t going to deny the fact that he was attractive too, but you still were a little unsure about the whole threesome thing. 

Pretty soon, you were stripped naked, standing on all fours like an animal. It all happened so quickly, you just let this all happen, becoming completely submissive. You didn’t hesitate. You couldn't even deny your arousal at this point. Feeling both their hands pull away your clothes eagerly and deciding who would do what had put you in a state of excitement. 

Bill stood behind you, his hands holding onto your waist. Tom stood in front of your face, his hands slowly removing his belt and unzipping his oversized jeans. He reeked of alcohol. You looked up at him, feeling some sort of desperation growing on the inside the longer he took. 

“Hurry the fuck up,” Bill spat, urging Tom to hurry up. Bill already had his cock out, the tip leaking of pre-cum. He was insanely needy at this point, the feeling of his dick aching for release becoming unpleasant. Out of desperation, Bill started rubbing his length against your drenched entrance, in need of some sort of friction. 

He let out a soft moan, his cock throbbing with need. Feeling him rub against you, you bit your lower lip, your eyes fluttering close. 

“Open your eyes and look at me, slut,” Tom snaps, and you immediately open your eyes again. His cock was now right in front of your face, dripping of pre-cum, twitching as he watched you pathetically looking up at him. 

He inched a little closer, pressing the head of his cock in between your lips. Your eyes widen a little. He was so…huge. You weren’t even sure if your throat could handle such a size. “I-I don’t—” you tried to say, but Tom smacked your head lightly, cutting you off. “Suck it,” he said. He then looked at Bill, and he gave him a small nod. 

“We’re gonna make you feel good,” Bill tells you from behind, his hand gently giving your spine a soft stroke. “Just be obedient.” 

And with that, without warning the both of them had shoved their cocks straight into you. Bill pushed his cock all the way in, a mewl leaving his lips. Tom grabbed your hair in a bunch, slamming his cock straight into your mouth, a low groan escaping him.  You let out a whine, feeling the both of them go all in on you so suddenly. 

Bill was definitely bigger than Tom. You could feel it. As Bill began pumping in and out of you, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips, your eyes immediately rolled into the back of your head. You could feel every inch of him inside of you, hitting every single sweet spot. 

Tom began roughly thrusting into your mouth, your saliva coating his dick making each thrust sloppier than the last. “Fuck—mmh…” Tom moaned out, feeling the warmth of your mouth envelop his length. His hands held your head in place by gripping onto your hair pretty roughly, making you whimper and moan out of pain and pleasure. Your sounds were all muffled against his cock, and it only served to fuel Tom’s desire, hearing you so pathetic and weak.

“Ngh—fuck you feel so…hmh…good…” Bill whimpered from behind, his mouth slightly agape as he thrust deeper and harder each time, his hips slamming against you, desperate to feel your tightness around him. His nails dug into the skin of your hips so roughly, it stung and left red marks. 

“Shit—” Tom cursed underneath his breath, his eyes rolling into the back of his head the moment you started gagging on him, which added pressure to his needy cock. He kept going harder, mouth fucking you merciless. Your tongue swirled against him inside of your month as you choked. You startled to feel quite lightheaded.

All of this was too much for you to handle. 

The noises each one of you made filled the small hotel room. It was so loud, the sounds so unholy. “So fucking perfect—mmh…” Bill moaned out, and his one hand lifted, coming straight down to spank you by surprise, making you jerk forward, choking on Tom’s cock even more. You whine, feeling the sting on your skin. 

“You—hngh—like that, don’t you? Fucking slut,” Tom spat, his breathing becoming increasingly ragged. He kept thrusting harder and rougher, his cock sliding deeper into your throat, to the fact it was the whole way in. You couldn’t breathe. 

“I think I’m—gonna…oh ja…” Bill whimpered, biting his lower lip in anticipation. His hand landed on your skin again, a loud slap echoing through the room. You whimper at the feeling. You were close, so close. That familiar tightening in your lower abdomen began to form. 

Bill’s cock continued to hit your g-spot, every inch of him stretching you open the deeper he pushed. You were clenching around him, your wetness dripping down your thighs. 

You couldn’t even think. Your mind was just blank, your entire self just drowned in complete ecstasy. Everything was a complete blur to you right now. You just wanted them to finish inside of you, and fill you up nicely. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum—I’m gonna cum…” Tom groaned, his eyes squeezing close as he tried to contain himself. However, he knew he wouldn't last much longer. 

“Hngh—fuck!” Bill shouted, and he jerked forward roughly, hips bucking into you as he released his load right into you, his eyes rolling in as he experienced his orgasm.

Tom let out a loud satisfied moan next, his hands holding tight onto your hair as he held you in place, his cum going straight down your throat so quickly, you couldn’t even think. You managed to cum as well with Bill, both your fluids mixing nicely. 

Eventually, with a soft wince, Bill slowly withdrew his cock from your well-used pussy, both of his and your orgasm spilling down your thighs. His cock was coated in cum, the stiffness not really going down. He was still hard.

Tom pulled from your mouth, his cock slipping off your lips, glistening with his cum. The taste in your mouth was bitter and salty, which wasn’t quite pleasant. There was so much, to the fact it dripped down the corners of your mouth and down onto your chin. “Swallow,” Tom commanded, slightly out of breath, and you did after some hesitance. You stick out your stained white tongue, showing him you had swallowed it all. He had a smug look on his face now. 

And finally, you could breathe. Gasping for air, you break your stance of being on all fours, and drop yourself down onto the bed, your body full of sweat. You were exhausted. Your body was aching from the pleasure and pain. You couldn’t think. You were just hazy, and all you knew within that moment, was that you were filled up so good. Definitely, you wanted more than just this one round.

#tokio hotel #love #boyfriend #bill kaulitz #tom kaulitz #smut #tom kaulitz smut #tokio hotel x reader #bill kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz x reader

[ailithnight]

A fic based on this prompt by @chaoswarfare that I had originally put in the reblogs, but decided to move to its own post since I've got some ideas to continue it. No promises on this ever being a completed fic, but I'll try.

A King in Arkham

Listless eyes trace the cracks in the ceiling; their owner blinking slowly from his place, lying nearly motionless on a thin mattress supported by a metal shelf held to the wall by thick black chains. His face is blank, not sad nor angry nor despairing like so many others in this cold and lonesome place. No, his expression is empty, as though there is simply nothing to feel.

Bruises and scratches and even a couple very deep cuts litter a small body. Were anyone watching, they'd see a new one appear as if by magic across a gaunt cheek. Even as blood begins weeping from the slash, not a single emotion flits across the face. Not even a flinch.

Tomorrow, doctors will assume the patient cut himself. They will search his cell, again, and find no weapon. They will search his body and find not so much as a fingernail capable of creating the mark. They will check the security feed and find, as always, that the moment of injury glitches; one second no cut, the next fresh blood. They will try to force the patient to admit self harm, but he will remain silent.

When the door to his cell swings open with a buzz and a clang, echoed by every other cell in the building, the blank faced boy with dull eyes doesn't move. It's the 6th time this month, and the 13th since arriving 3 months ago.

When the sounds of screams and rioting grate on sensitive ears, he merely sighs, the first hint of feeling flashing across his face in the form of a minute second of frustration before blankness returns. When a pair of escaping patients rush past, one stopping to ask if he's coming, he remains unresponsive.

"Leave him! Kid never tries to escape. He's to far gone."

The kid in question feels his eyebrow twitch. He's not 'gone' anywhere, thank you very much. There's just no point. Nowhere to go. No one to help him; to understand that he's not crazy, just haunted. At least, no one who won't turn him into a monster. A horrible, world destroying, viscious monster.

Besides, Arkham's not too bad. At least it isn't a GIW lab. And his rogues have even started showing up less and less since he was sent here! Though maybe that has less to do with Arkham or Gotham and more to do with the kid's utter refusal to even defend himself.

"Now come on before Bats start showing up and put this place on lockdown."

A black form with a red head drops from above, just barely within the kid's peripheral vision. A brief moment of recognition and even something adjacent to interest flickers in blue eyes.

"Bats like me, perchance?"

.

Red Hood was assisting containment with an Arkham breakout. There had been a lot of them in the last few months and Batman was getting grey hairs trying to figure out why. No one in particular was even trying to break out. No one could be pinned for the inciting incident. Just randomly, at any point in the day, the automatic locks would spazz out and everyone would be released.

So the big bad Bat had called all hands on deck, requesting at least one vigilante be at or near Arkham at all times, hoping to at least keep most of the big fish in their cages while they tried to figure out what the hell was going on. And Jason had graciously agreed to help. So here he was, at 3am on a Saturday morning; assisting guards in keep inmates corralled; keeping any eye out for any maximum security escapees.

With none spotted so far, and the people below him literally admitting that they're giving up hope when the Bats arrive, Jason figured he might as well see if a bit of scare tactic will convince them to go back to bed willingly.

"Bats like me, perchance?" The would be escapees in front of him startle and whip around.

"Red Hood?"

"The one and only." Jason shifts to not so subtlely place a hand on his weapons. "Now why don't you 2 just go on back to your rooms and we can forget this little infraction. I won't even tell the guards to write up a discipline slip." The two inmates eye him, then his guns, then each other warily. Finally, they both raise their hands in surrender and begin walking back to their cells.

Jason permits himself a quiet chuckle, much to low to be picked up by the modulator. As he turns back to grapple up to his bird's eye view in the rafters, his eyes catch sight of the inmate who apparently doesn't try to escape. For just a moment, green swamps his vision as Red Hood registers the sight in front of him.

He almost steps in to the cell before a harsh buzz sounds and cell doors clang shut again. An intercom crackles to life announcing the effective lockdown, instructing guards to begin escorting patients back to their cells, cataloging each attempted escapee for future disciplinary measures.

Batman's voice sounds out over comms.

Not a single inmate made it past the main gate. Good job Hood.

Jason seethes for moment longer in front of the cell before biting out his question on the main channel.

What the hell is a kid doing in Arkham!?

A strangled sound makes it through the feed and Nightwing responds, strained.

What?

A KID! Can't be older than 15. In cell... 26B. Looking rather roughed up, I might add. Since why does Arkham even accept minors?

Oracle responds.

Pulling records right now.

Jason eyes the kid, who seems to be entirely unfazed by Red Hood discussing his imprisonment 8 feet away from him. Actually, unfazed is the wrong word. Apathetic is better. Entirely emotionless. Green threatens Jason's vision again as he ponders the potential reasons for the look of resigned desolation on a face so young.

Looks like he was transferred over from a psych ward in Illinois 3 months ago. Ward of the State. File says self-destructive behavior. Apparently he picks up unexplainable injuries and claims ghosts gave them to him.

That still doesn't explain why they sent him to Arkham!

Batman's voice filters back in.

Hood, pull out.

Jason has to force himself to keep his voice down.

WHAT!? I'M NOT LEAVING A KID HERE!

It's almost 4am. Red Robin is on route to relieve you.

I AM NOT LEAVING A 15 YEAR OLD IN ARKHAM!

We will be investigating this further.

15! YOU KNOW, THE SAME AGE I WAS WHEN YOU LET ME DIE IN THAT FUCKING WAREHOUSE.

Jason almost regrets the statement as he here's Dick's stuttered breath. But it seems the kid might have heard him and something about the statement seems to catch his attention.

He actually turns his head to look quizzically at Jason. The expression only lasts a couple seconds before slipping back into blank neutrality as he turns back to the ceiling.

Batman's voice grinds in his ears, an edge in his tone telling Jason that if he doesn't listen, the Bat himself will come pull Jason out.

Hood, his transfer coincides with the start of these break outs. He may be involved. We will be investigating this further, very thoroughly. If he's clean, we will be getting him out of there. But for now I need you to pull out. File your report.

The tone softens.

And get some rest.

#dp x dc #Danny Phantom in Arkham Asylum #A King in Arkham #my writing #I guess I should start a tagslist #I'll try to pull some from the original post #But it would be easiest if y'all just drop tag requests in the comments

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝕊𝕋ℝ𝔸ℕ𝔾𝔼ℝ𝕊 (Crumb)

You were once his colorful spark of adventurous dreams while he was stuck in a monotone nightmare of what had been chosen for him. And now, years after he'd escaped and quietly disappeared, he's back- and you're nothing but strangers.

Tags/Warnings: non-idol AU, Angst, Friends to strangers to lovers, smut, I know you've all been waiting for what mom might make out of the groceries aka topless calvin Klein kook, mentions of death, mentions of questionable past time activities (smoking, drinking, drugs but no consumption of such, sex, gambling), more TBA

Length: ???

-> this is going to be a One-shot. Additional content can be added if requested.

🌟 This work has Patreon perks! Please check my navigation post (pinned) for more info!

There is no taglist for this fic.

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

"Where's puffball?" Jungkook asks, carefully walking into your apartment, visibly tense as he follows you slowly, rather taking a look around.

"Where he always sleeps." You simply say, and Jungkook needs to think for a second, before his face turns towards the corner near your entrance door, where a small coffee table stands instead of the tiny red dog bed he was expecting-

A picture of the tiny off-white poodle mix on top of it, his baby blue collar in front with a candle unlit.

"Oh.." jungkook can't find the words, his throat suddenly clogging up. Everyone always said how ugly that dog was, and yeah, objectively he was- with the overbite and tongue hanging out, he truly wouldn't have ever won a beauty contest. But you loved the little guy- and Jungkook loved him too, despite his constant yapping.

"Died of kidney failure last year December." You shrug as you search through a bookshelf, opening a folder with documents. "Wasn't surprising."

"I'm.." he starts, before he bites his lip, scratches the back of his neck. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" You chuckle, trying to just brush it off. Truth be told it still hurts to talk about it- but you don't want him to know that. "You didn't kill the guy." You joke, taking out some paperwork as you sit down on the couch.

"No, It's not that-" he says, eyes focused on the grey-ish pull out couch in front of him.

The same you both made love on, years ago, the same he held you on through the entire night before you went for a round two in the morning, the same he decided that he needs change on.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there. To.. comfort you." He offers.

Again, only a shrug of your shoulders. You don't acknowledge him at all, it feels like.

And he can't even blame you.

"Here- that should be all the papers for the car." You instead change the topic, holding out the documents- which he takes, though he sits down next to you as well, with a respectful distance. It feels off, awkward, like punishment for his cowardly behavior years prior.

It's like you switched sides- your tattoos covered up by simple black leggings, blank white top covering your upper half. The only hint of color is in the split ends of your hair- though even that's faded to the point of almost being unrecognizable.

And now he's the rebel of the two of you, going against the norms with his tattoos and piercings and hair and everything- something he'd always admired you for, back then.

But the world had finally broken you down it looks like- society having forced you into submission after all, despite your back then huge ambitions.

"Are you sure I can just.. have it?" He asks again, just to make sure you really don't want the car any longer- and you nod.

"I had a seizure three months back, so I'm not allowed to drive anyway." You say nonchalantly, leaning back against the couch, arms and legs crossed to almost fend him off it seems like. "Not that I'd want to ever again." You confess.

"..down the old EDM club." He suddenly says, looking at you. "Near the main road. That was you?" He asks, and you nod, though your furrowed brows and challenging eyes show clearly that you're asking for why he knows about it. "I.. kept up with the news and.." he sighs, running his fingers through his hair, the other hand careful not to clutch the papers too hard. "I wanted to know you're alright."

"Cool." You simply say, nothing else.

He looks at you, waiting for something more you might day- but you don't. You just look at him with a strange mixture of emotions he can't really distinguish. It's all washed together into one muddy mess- and he knows it's his fault that you're so on guard.

He's a stranger to you now, after all.

"Car was never fixed up, by the way." You say, moving to get up. "So you've got some work to do or money to spend." You say, and Jungkook gets up as well, walking after you towards the door that you open for him.

He slips back into his Chelsea boots, before he looks back at you, mouth opening before you can even deny him. "I know you're pissed at me." He says. "And you got every right to."

"Great we talked about that- now leave." You say, pointing out the door.

"I'm not gonna say this to get my dick wet." He tells you with a serious face, as you stare him down, daring him foe his next words. "But I need you to know that you.. what happened between us, that was fucking special." He says. "So much so that I knew I had to change in order to.. become someone." He says.

"Someone what?" You ask, crossing your arms defensively- because his words are getting to you.

"Just someone." He explains. "I wasn't anyone at all back then. Just.. a puppet who did what I for told. I had no personality. No ambitions, nothing- I only had you." He words out, and your gaze softens. "And I couldn't stay with you because.. I would've probably hurt you at some point."

"You still did." You say, and he nods, tongue playing with his piercing.

"I did." He agrees. "But not as bad as I would've if I'd stayed." He tries to justify. "I- listen, can't we.. start over?" He wonders, looking at you with hopeful eyes. "We're basically strangers by now anyway, aren't we?"

You are.

The jungkook in front of you is nothing like the blank canvas he used to be. He's vibrant despite the lack of color he's actually wearing, full of emotions, opinions and views. This jungkook is filled to the brim with things-

While you've become empty instead now, taking his place.

"I don't think I'm the person you remember." You deny. "We don't fit- in fact, we never did." You shake your head.

"Five years might change a lot-" he says, round black orbs watching you intently. "-but the won't change what's in here." He says, offers, hopes, inked finger gently pointing to where your heart sits underneath the shirt and your skin and bones.

And much to your demise, he seems to be right.

Because you're sure he can probably feel it beating faster from this faint touch alone.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts smut #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts jeon jungkook imagine

[asumofwords]

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Angst, violence, fear, anxiety, PTSD, mentions of rape.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Full speed ahead from here... Buckle the fuck in my babies, let's get this show on the road! I think we all knew that something was coming and here we are... Rapid fire posting from here on out, are you ready? Again, as always, thank you, thank you, thank you all so very much for all your love and continued support! You guys have made writing this so much fun! <3

Chapter 97: Consequences 

The sun rose slowly that morning, the room being cast in its gentle warm glow.

Shadows danced across the wall, growing larger with every hour that passed, and every crawling step that the sun took to get higher and higher in the sky.

You laid as you were, nestled beneath the sheets, with your hand still reaching for the blade Aemond had gifted you upon his departure. 

Always ready.

Always waiting.

For him.

The maids woke alongside the sun, stretching long arms above their bodies to straighten their spines, vertebrae’s clicking into place and aches settling into their muscles after sleeping on chaises and chairs for many nights straight.

They rose, and helped you rise, dressing you in a deep black and red skirt, with a black leather bustier top. The shoulders were cuffed with metal, with long dripping hoops of chains that pressed cooly against the bare skin of your arms. The neck was high fitting, and splayed outwards like dragon wings. 

As you sat at the table, waiting for the two girls to bring you food to break your fast, Amala entered first, a short bow, and the quietest of apologies on her tongue. The action caused panic to rear its ugly head within you, and so you darted your head backwards towards the bed, seeking out the place you knew the blade to be hidden, with your eyes. 

Movement in your periphery, you turned your head, and met the deep brown eyes of Alicent Hightower, dressed in an even deeper green gown, tight arms and stiff neck, standing in your chambers. 

“Good Morrow, Princess.” She greeted you, hands clasped gently at her front.

Your brows twitched as you looked at her, “Alicent.”

The Dowager Queen walked towards you slowly, “I thought I might join you to break our fasts together.”

You blinked at the Hightower. Her hair was half up, half down, pinned away from her face in a thick braid that Helaena used to wear across the top of her scalp, auburn wisps curling away from her face, escaping the style.

You opened your palm towards Aemond’s empty seat. A silent invitation to join you. A motion for her to sit. An unlikely guest in your chambers whom you had no real power to turn away.

A guest in whom you had to welcome regardless of the desire to slit her throat.

Alicent moved slowly, as though she was floating across the stones. Her feet did not make sounds as she walked, an entirely silent ordeal that made you see Alicent in Aemond in more ways than you had thought before.

Both having to have been seen and not heard. Quiet and dutiful. It was all there, the reflection of a mother in her son. The silent resentment of all those around. The even quieter pain that lingered behind the pairs eyes, pain from duty, pain from having no voice, pain from being trapped to the shadows of men before them.

Pulling out her chair, she seated herself down, eyes flicking about the chambers in inspection.

What she was looking for, you did not know. 

It was not long until Joanna, helped by Amala, brought in the food and plates for the both of you. It was as if the Queen had planned this breakfast, and that it was not at all as spur of the moment as she wished it to seem.

Alicent Hightower was always making calculated moves. 

You wondered what this one was for.

“And how are you?” She asked gently, thanking the girls as they bowed and left the chambers for you to be alone with the older woman.

You cleared your throat, serving yourself a plate of food as you stared at her. You let out a deep sigh through your nose and responded, “I have been better.”

There was no point in lying to her, nor did you wish to soothe any anxieties she, in your opinion, was most likely to have. And though you wished to have nothing to do with the woman seated opposite you, there was no denying the similarities that you both shared. The combined struggle that the both of you would understand, even wordlessly.

You were both women.

Alicent mirrored your actions, serving herself a plate of eggs, toast and cooked tomatoes, “It seems to be something we can all agree on.”

You blinked at her.

“What happened to you,” She began, hands placed delicately in her lap, which you knew to mean she was picking at the skin of her nails, “Was a horrific set of unforeseen circumstances. The Gods-“

“Unforeseen.” You hummed, picking up your goblet of fresh juice taking a sip, “Unforeseen for myself and Aemond, perhaps. But the King and his Council knew that I was to be brought to the Throne Room that day. You knew.”

Alicent cut herself a piece of toast, smearing egg onto its crispy surface, “I had cautioned the King against such an-“

“Alicent, you could not caution an ant if you wished.”  You breathed, cutting into your own toast with far more vigour than needed.

“Aemond was not privy to know-“

“As I am now aware.” You swallowed the bread thickly, “Please be transparent about your coming today.”

Alicent’s doe-y features hardened, and the calculating serpent you had become accustomed to, was revealed to the room, though her eyes still stayed soft, “I came to speak to you about my son.”

“Which one? The rapist, my husband, or the corpse?”

The reminder of Daeron set Alicent’s teeth on edge, jaw clenched as she stared at you, “Aemond.” She grit out.

“My husband then." You gave her a clipped smile, "What did you need to speak to me of, which you could no doubt ask him yourself? Do you not have a better relationship with him than I?”

“I wished to hear it from your own lips.”

“My lips have said many things about your sons, my husband especially. What does the famed Green Queen want to know?” You sighed, munching on some star fruit as the Lady Alicent Hightower struggled to keep her frustrations at bay.

“Do you love him?”

You laughed. 

You didn’t mean to.

But you just did.

Alicent was not impressed, and seemed all together confused. 

“If I did not love him, I would not be here still.”

“You would. It is a marriage-“

“-I would have thrown myself from the window like Helaena if I did not, or ripped his throat out with my teeth..." You paused, "Or yours."

It was blunt. 

Raw.

And hurt the both of you.

You strummed your fingers against the table loudly, looking down as you contemplated your next words.

“I love him. That is the truth of it. A sick and twisted truth if anything, but something I could have never fought. The Gods made us for each other. It is known. But my love for him does not outweigh the hurt he has inflicted upon me. He is still a Kinslayer.”

Alicent tilted her head, leaning back in her chair, chestnut waves falling over her shoulder, “As are you." One singular eyebrow raised, "I think you seem to forget.”

“How can one forget a life one took?" You spoke flatly, disinterested in the actions of the past, "My only consolation was that it was war when I did it. Aemond however, pushed the first piece on the board to start the others that fell. Like mother, like son.”

Alicent ate another piece of her eggs daintily, lifting to her lips with her fork, before swallowing, “The both of you are Kinslayers, acursed in the eyes of the people.”

You gave her a toothy grin, “Then what better way than to have those who are acursed as Kinslayers to be wed to each other. It would surely bring damnation and shame to any other husband or wife and their House, but the Gods made it so that we are together as one. In actions. In sin. In love. A small mercy really.”

Alicent gave an uneven smile, placing her cutlery back onto her plate, “It's strange, I must admit. The predicament we find ourselves in. But if anything, I am glad that it was you. That meek Baratheon girl would not have survived my son, I'm afraid.”

You frowned, and Alicent continued, “I would have no better match for Aemond. You have both always loved each other. You know each other better than anyone else, and at times, though it pains me to admit it, you know my son better than I do. You see him. All of him. The good and the bad. My parts that played in it, and yours. And I believe the Seven helped to bring you together.”

“It was the Old Gods, not the Seven.”

Alicent merely stared at you for a time, picking her napkin up to dab at her lips before placing the napkin back on the table, “With any luck, Aemond should return soon.” She stood, pushing her chair back as she smoothed out her skirts.

“Godspeed.” You prayed, and watched as she bowed and left your chambers. 

You finished your breakfast without the presence of the Dowager Queen, and when you were done, you made your way down to the Library to read.

When you entered the Library it was quiet and still, with one lone servant stoking the flames in the large fireplace, placing three to four large logs inside carefully.

As they heard your entrance, they bowed at the hip, keeping their face to the ground before they scuttled out of the room like a rodent.

You perused the isles of books for some time, fingers tracing over the worn spines, and dusted covers. Leather and embroidered tomes combined. As you came to one isle in particular, you thought back on the way Aemond had taken you against the shelves, face diving between your folds, his tongue lapping at you feverently before spearing you upon his cock.

Your core clenched at the memory.

Picking a tome at random, you pulled the heavy leather bound book from the shelf, making your way to seat yourself before the fire as you opened it up in your lap. The first page was worn, and faded, but the script was slanted beautifully by a careful hand.

‘Maegor the Cruel, The Usurpation of Aegon the Uncrowned, and The Seven Faith Militant. A History.’

You had picked quite the intense read, but began it nonetheless.

‘Maegor the First was the son of King Aegon the First and his eldest sister-wife, Queen Visenya Targaryen. Maegor was born of fire and blood, the prodigy of Aegon the Conqueror, A King who laid waste to all the realms who did not bend the knee on the back of Balerion the Black Dread. Maegor the Cruel had an older half-brother, Aenys the First, who was said to be a fair and just Prince.’

The day floated by as you read the history of Maegor and his violent rise to power.

‘Maegor had six wives, to which the Faith strongly rebuked, polygamy a sin in the eyes of the Seven Faith. Ceryse Hightower, and Alys Harroway - who was later killed by his third wife Tyanna of the Tower. Then, there were the Black Brides; Elinor Costayne, Jayne Westerling, and his niece, Rhaena Targaryen.’

The warmth of the fire settled over you gently, and your eyes excitedly read each page as you got more and more into the violence of the Cruel King. You had read the history once before, but you had been young and under the Septa’s supervision, which made learning about him boring and irksome. 

By now you had gotten half way through the tome.

‘At the death of his father, Aegon the First, his brother Aenys ascended the throne. Maegor was still exiled for his sins in marrying a second wife, and soon after his ascent to the Iron Throne, King Aenys passed. Maegor seized the throne, and crowned himself King. Yet his rule would not be an easy one. Some moons later, Prince Aegon, Maegor’s nephew, laid claim to the Iron Throne, as was his birth right.’

The sound of the library doors echoed in the chambers, but you did not raise your head.

‘Prince Aegon’s claim was supported by several Lords of the Westerlands and Riverlands, and so the Prince marched at the head of an army, fifteen thousand men strong. Queen Tyanna, Maegor’s third wife and the Mistress of Whispers, warned that Maegor's allies would turn on him for his nephews claim if there was show of his prevail. In the Battle Beneath The Gods Eye, Maegor and Aegon’s armies clashed, and fought in a bloody and brutal battle. Men were slain from their horses by archers and swordsman, dragon fire lay waste to hundreds of men, the earth under The Gods Eye was soaked with blood, and many soldiers sank into its red mud. Though it came to an end, Maegor slew his nephew and his dragon Quicksilver, tearing them from the sky on the back of the mighty Black Dread. Maegor the Cruel was thenceforth known for his cruelty and labeled a Kinslayer.’

“Princess, Y/n.” A voice pulled you from your book. Your eyes lifted from the page to meet Ser Criston Cole’s.

You straightened your back, looking to the two guards who flanked him either side, feeling a strange sense of dejavu from the scene before you. 

“Ser Cole.” You greeted him warily, placing the book atop the table in front of you and standing, body ready to take flight.

Ser Criston lifted his head high, “King Aegon has requested for your presence in the Throne Room.”

You blinked, and you stomach did a small flip, fear rising in your throat.

“And I suppose these guards are there to enforce my presence?”

The two men shifted, their armour scratching against each other, eyes aimed at the wall behind you.

Ser Cole breathed, “No, My Lady.”

“Then tell the King I am busy.” You moved to sit back down, but Ser Cole took a step forward towards you. 

It was clear then, that there was no real choice.

Not that you ever had one in the Keep.

It was not a casual invitation that they would like you to believe it was, much like Alicent's breaking her fast with you that morning, but they were not dragging you to the Throne Room, kicking and screaming as they did last time.

It did little to soothe your wrought nerves, but it was at least something.

The small voice in the back of your head screamed that it would be another Maester situation. Your intuition told you to run. Your baser instincts told you to fight.

But what if it was one of the maids?

Panic shot through you, and so you nodded, walking across the room, feeling as though each step further settled your doom. But you could not leave them. If it was one of the maids, if Larys had discovered them, you would not abandon them now in their time of need.

Ser Cole bowed his head to you, holding the door open before he began to lead you to the Iron Throne, the two guards walking closely behind you, ready to snatch you if you so chose to run.

Each step of the men was a shuffle of robes and armour, and you watched the sword on Ser Criston’s side sway heavily with each step, its long blade tapping the side of his thigh.

Each sway reminded you of how Aegon’s hand had swung down, separating the old mans head from his neck. How your Grandsire's blade had tipped at Aegon's side as he descended the steps of the Iron Throne to stand before you.

The blood. 

So much blood.

On you.

On the stones. 

You wondered for a moment, if the stain would still be there, or if they had tasked some poor servants to scrub it out of the porous surface as though their lives depended on it.

You tried to steady your breathing. Counting each step as you saw the large doors to the Iron Throne. Fifty-one. Fifty-Two. Fifty-Three. Fifty-Four.

Kings guards opening the heavy wood doors with steel bracketing along its face to let you in. 

Ser Cole walked ahead of you announcing you to the chambers, as you held your hands behind you, fingers digging sharply into the flesh of your palm. The King Maker voiced boomed as you looked to Aegon, who was seated upon the throne, lazily leaning on one side with his chin in his palm, as though summoning you back to the Throne Room was a chore and a bore. 

The Small Council were about the chambers, dressed in their robes and House colours, watching you with careful and guarded eyes, though nervousness shifted their bodies.

And there, beside the throne, once again, was Aemond. 

His presence did little to settle your nerves.

It was happening again.

Gods, please, help me.

Aemond's gaze had snapped to you as soon as you had entered, and although he stood tall and stiff, hands behind his back and face impassive, your presence had clearly come as a surprise.

Again.

Aemond looked blindsided. 

Completely at a loss as to why you were there, and it showed in his eye. 

The Prince looked as though he had only just arrived back in Kings Landing, dressed still in his riding leathers, hair pulled back and away from his face by braids, and lips pressed into a thin line. His brows had furrowed as he looked at you.

But Aemond hadn’t come straight to you as he usually did. 

Something was amiss.

“Husband,” You called out to him, schooling your voice to hide the rising panic, “I am gladdened to see you hale and hearty and returned home.” You gave him a small smile, and turned to the King, “You requested my presence, Your Grace?”

Aegon did not smile at you. 

He did not even sneer. 

The King merely stared at you with his intense, violet eyes, lips slightly pursing in thought before straightening into a flat line, much like his brother. But beneath those bright eyes you had come to fear, there was something simmering beneath.

Rage.

Swallowing and sensing that you were in danger, you turned to face your husband again, “Did you find the men who were responsible at the Red Fork?”

Aemond was still, shoulders tensed, head turning to look up at his brother who still sat staring at you, crown atop his head. You watched as your husbands lips opened to speak.

Otto Hightower stepped forward, his greying and receding hair shimmering in the light that poured in from the windows. His robes of green were trimmed with fur around his neck and chest, and the pin of the Hand of the King sat against his breast.

“You stand before King Aegon the Second, rightful heir to the Iron Throne.” His voice sent chills down your spine, skin breaking beneath your nails in your palm. It was happening again, “You have been brought before the King and his Council to answer for the crimes you are being charged.”

Your immediate thought was to turn to Aemond, to ask him what was happening, to beg him for help, but you remembered the last time this had happened. You remembered the last time he had stood there and watched.

You remembered as he had done nothing.

You remembered that you were alone.

Again.

Otto straightened, a ringing in your ears beginning to grow louder, “You are accused of treason; For the slaying of the Kings unborn child, aided by the traitor Maester. You are accused of conspiring with Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen against the Crown. You are accused of attempting to recruit Prince Aemond Targaryen to turn cloak and help your mothers cause. How do you plead against these charges?”

“What?” Your voice was so small, and sounded so far away.

This was it.

There was no going back now.

Aegon straightened on the monstrous throne of melted swords, “The Princess was given a gift by the Seven when my seed was put into her womb. She had made a confession to ensuring the death of her pregnancy out of spite when the Maester was charged. She has murdered my son. The Kings son. A highest of treasons.”

Your throat felt dry, “You raped me.”

Aegon’s lip twitched from the smirk he was holding back, “The Princess seduced me with promises of good behaviour for favours and fruit. Star fruit is your favourite, is it not?”

Aegon moaned as he heard you whimper, and let go of your throat, a lungful of air racing through your mouth as you gasped. Aegon fucked himself into you, the sound of his grunts and his flesh slapping against yours filled the chambers with your sobs. 

Aemond bristled beside his brother, eye narrowed on you. His posture was straight, and as your eyes flicked from one brother to the other, you realised there was no hope.

There was no hope for you.

Aemond had made his choice. 

And it was never to be you.

Aegon leant forward on the throne, silver hair shimmering in the light, “The Princess came to me after Prince Aemond left for Harrenhal. She was alone and angry at knowing that my brother was having an affair with the bastard wet-nurse, Alys Rivers. She begged me to warm her bed, and to give her an heir so that my brother would not suspect a thing.”

“You think the Knight would help you?” Aegon sneered, as you thrashed beneath him, pushing at him with all your strength, “Do you think he would listen to you? I could command him to come in here and make him watch, and he would do it. Should I call him for you?” He growled, fingers tightening around your throat, the room beginning to spin. 

You swallowed thickly, the sounds of Aegon’s grunts breaking forth in your memory.

The night he attacked you.

The night he raped you.

The night that changed everything.

“That's a lie.” Your voice cracked, looking up at the King, “You came to my chambers, and held me down, and raped me.” Your eyes flicked across the room, meeting a pair of distressed brown ones, “Alicent, you know this to be the truth. You were there. You helped me.”

Alicent stepped forward, turning to her son, “Is this true, Aegon? Perhaps the Princess had not known the implications. The Maester must have deceived her, or forced her to do as she did under threat.”

Alicent had given you Moon Tea after Aegon. 

She knew.

And she was lying.

"You're lying!" You sneered at the auburn haired woman.

Aegon looked down at his mother in mock pity, “Lord Larys Strong told me that she had been given Moon Tea after she was given my son. She had willingly and enthusiastically drank it, as she knew it was my child inside of her.”

Your stomach twisted in knots, and you felt as though you were going to be sick. But the anger of seeing Alicent play games with her own son, whilst her other watched you, was simply too much for you to bear. 

Damn them all.

“The Queen gave me the Moon Tea.” You declared, voice clipped, "Is that not an act of treason? Try your own blood before the Council for the sins of your flesh.” Your hands came down to your side, clenched into fists. 

You were not going to die in cowardice. 

You would bite, and scratch, and claw until the end.

As you always had done.

“Princess Y/n, might I remind you that you are before the Small Council and King Aegon. You will have time to speak for your innocence when the King has finished his petition.” Otto cautioned you.

Your breathing became laboured, shallow, angry breaths that heaved. 

It was that rage again.

That same rage that you had pushed down and away, that had been there at your finger tips, just beneath the surface of your skin, hiding in the shadows. The rage that you had clipped and preened like a rose bush, to not prick yourself on its thorns. 

A rage that was innately yours. 

Aegon straightened himself, the golden chains that sat heavily against his chest swaying with movement. He shifted, pulling himself to be seated in a stiff and upright position, as though one of the swords he was seated upon had slipped up his spine. 

He looked every bit his mother.

And then he thought. 

And the silence of the chambers was almost as deafening as the ringing in your ears. The pounding of your heart in your head, the rushing of the blood in your veins. You felt every bone in your body, the weight of them, the feel of them. Every tooth in your skull felt as though they were not sitting correctly, your tongue heavy and too large for your mouth. 

Aemond shifted again in your periphery, taking two short steps forward towards you.

Coward.

“Swear yourself to me.” The King boomed in the chambers, his voice echoing in the space and decision made. 

Aegon pushed himself to stand, looking down his nose at you.

“Bend the knee, and swear me as your King.”

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Tag List:

@izzicle @ej-shitchats @may-machin @alegria1580 @witchy-jadda @videovampire @inkdelicious @queteimporta39 @virtualsweetsqueen @fo-cus @auratiqs @feyres-fireheart @queenofshinigamis @asoiafwh8re @teasandcrumpets @shesjustanothergeek @grungegrrrl@queenofsarcazm @marihoneywk @curlszx88 @virgogaia @loser-keiji @asoiafwh8re @whore-of-many-hot-men @vipervixxen @theonewiththeimaginaryboyfriends @watercolorskyy @lavendervisions @mazmack666 @chokefrog @orangejump-suit @nik2blog @serrhaewinin @ohemgeewhat @winxschester @cryptidsrcool @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @celestedonut @bloodyvelvet777 @iamapersonthatsalive @av-sos @yentroucnagol @sanzu-s @opheliaas-stuff @bellameshipper @maviee @persephonerinyes @neytiri-09 @ensnaredinwonderland @xbluegracex @sotragedynut @nattieot7 @shesawaywiththefairies-blog @coffedraven @prettycutebunny @celestedonut @the-jess-life @ssulfurr @out-of-life @madislayyy @crazylokonugget @cicaspair418 @katwmk @relminnie @milovart @teagrex @visenyaverse @bellameshipper @toodlesxcuddles @tempt-ress @dontmindmereading7 @qyburnsghost @55gyi53vtnquwziq5 @notnormalthings-blog @maidmerrymint @qyburnsghost @madislayyy @chelseaouat

Bold is who I cannot tag!

#aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond smut #hotd smut #dark!aemond targaryen x reader #dark!aemond x reader #dark!aemond targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #dark!aemond #dark!fic #fic #series #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond #smoke fire and ash

[yccoffeesimp]

Addicted Drug| Blade x Reader|

Warnings: Nsfw & Suggestive themes + imaginary, Somnophilia, choking,

Fem! reader!

-×-

Time and time again, you always find yourself indulging in the Stellaron Hunter's mere presence. His crimson red eyes, his long black hair, his calloused hands that wrap so perfectly around your neck... It was so, so ***wrong*** but yet felt so fucking ***right.*** After all you were apart of the Astral Express, to indulge with the enemy was basically stabbing your friends in the back. Especially since Blade was known to haunt Dan Heng's dreams, as well as nearly kill him while he was on the Xianzhou Loufo.

He was almost like an **addictive** drug. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't live without him pumping into you. Biting your neck, his hands so tight around your hips that the Aeons knew it would bruise. Fucking you senselessly into the mattress. Whenever you dared to moan, whimper, or whine too loudly, his hands grabbed hold of your neck. Closing off any air flow.

Fuck..That dizzy feeling of pure ecstacy with the discomfort & pain of no oxygen, how could you not live without it?

It was always at night when he showed up, once everyone in the Astral Express turned in for the night, he'd appear. Appearing behind you, already pinning you to your closed and locked door. Tonight was different though.

You close your door behind you, closing your eyes and sighing. Your shoulders slumping, the pressure of today falling off as you were in the comfort of your room. You open your eyes to see it was only you in the room. It's been a while since Blade visited ever since the Xianzhou Loufo mission.

You won't lie, your heart felt heavy at the thought of him not being here. Leaving you for another lonely and cold night in your bed. You undress out of your usual wear to change into your pajamas for the night. Once you got dressed in your night wear, you immediately fell into the comforting embrace of your bed. Taking out your phone, your scrolled through it to see if he at least texted you which was very **Very** unlikely.

You sighed in defeat. Plugging your phone to its charger before setting it on your nightstand, you stared at the roof of your room. It wasn't long until sleep caught up with you, your eyelids felt heavy before you fell into a deep sleep.

-×-

"Going to see them tonight, Bladie?" Kafka asked the swordsman. Blade froze in his tracks, shortly glancing at her. He gave a small nod in return to her question. Although his memory recently was erased, strangely he remembered you.

"Mhm... You should probably tell them why you've been gone for the past few weeks, y'know."

"I will explain in due time..." Blade spoke in his usual monotone and emotionless voice. Kafka hummed, "Well then Bladie, I'll see you by morning then." Was all she said before Blade left.

Blade then appeared in the middle of your room, his eyes then landing on your sleeping figure. You seemed so peaceful, so vulnerable.. The way the lighting of your nightlight reflected on to your skin was angelic, highlighting everything he found addicting about you. His eyes then landed on your lips for a brief moment before he felt the room in his pants begin to feel less roomy.

*Fuck.. Not now dammit.*

The reason why Blade came tonight wasn't for the usual hook up then leave. It was to actually discuss with you about how exactly your relationship will be dealt with for now on. Either the midnight hook up visits would end after nearly 3 months or it might become something more. That's why he came.

He groaned at the situation he was now in. His leg hand rubbing his temples, his eyes closed before opening them to see your sleepy figure once more. It wouldn't hurt if he just... No, no.. But the boner in his pants was becoming unbearably tight. Blade clenched his fists into balls before walking over to your bed side. He eyed your figure once more, sighing before taking off his shoes and setting them at the bed post. He then pulled the covers off of you before getting in the bed himself.

His hand lifted your shirt up just enough so he could take off your pants and undergarments with ease. He tossed them to the floor, not caring where they landed. His hands then went to his belt, removing the piece of clothing along with his pants. The only thing restricting him now was his boxers. He moved closer to you, his right hand on your inner thigh with his left going into his boxers. He removed the piece of clothing, precum at the head of his long but thick cock. He aligned the the mushroom-shaped tip at your hole, slowly pushing it in as to not wake you.

he shuddered, pushing more in, feeling your walls constrict around him. He was balls deep in you before he slid back out before slamming back in. Your hands pinned above your head, his grip was firm but not tight to cause discomfort. Your soft moans filled his ears, your unconscious body squirming with every thrust Blade made in your cunt.

Before you were peacefully sleeping before feeling a pleasurable sensation fill you up. It immediately woke you from your rest, your eyes peering open before widening. A loud moan escaped your lips as Blade hit your g-spot. You turned your head to see him on top of you, brutally thrusting in you.

"Blade- Ngh~!" You moaned, your hands were released before you felt his hands wrap around your neck next. "Quiet... Wouldn't want you to wake up the others.." He said, his grip tightening to the point you could barely breathe.

Choked moans and whines came from you for the rest of the time. Blade's brutal pace seemed to become sloppier as time went on, the sound of bare skin slapping echoed in the room. "Such filthy sounds.." He sighed, his hair sticking to his forehead as he observed you squirm and moan. The sight alone was just enough for him to want to claim you as his and fill you to the brim.

He could tell your were close, the way your walls were practically suffocating his cock. The gummy sensitive flesh milking him.

It wasn't long before a ring of white surrounded him. He carried you through your organism as he now cashed his own.

Your eyes were shut tight when you climaxed, everything was numb before your eyes shot open. A loud strangled moan escaping as Blade continued to penetrate your core after your orgasm.

"Blade- W-wait-"

You choked as his grip only tightened. His forehead touched yours, his cock pulsing inside of you just before loads of white semen were releasing into your velvety walls.

Blade's thrusts stopped, his hand moved away from your neck going to rest at your sides. His fingers massaged them. Your eyes stared into each other, before you could say anything. The man above you kissed you. But these weren't like the others before... The others were driven by lustful intent, nothing but pure desire and lust for one another. However, this one was tender, passionate filled with love and compassion.

Blade pulled away after a few seconds. "Wait here, I'll try to find something to clean you up.." He said before pulling out of you. The display of mixed fluids was displayed between your legs and your bedsheets. Blade walked around your bathroom that was attached to your bedroom. Returning with a towel. He walks towards you, cleaning the mess around your legs. After cleaning up, he picked up your undergarments and pants from the spot on the floor. He tossed them towards your before he began to put his boxers and pants on. You watched him as he did this, watching him put his belt back on before he looked at you.

"I'll be here tomorrow. We have to talk about something important before any of this continues." Was the last thing he said before he vanished, leaving you alone once more..

#blade x reader #blade x reader smut #blade hsr #hsr x female reader #blade x female reader #hsr smut #blade smut #honkai star rail #smut writing

[burntheedges]

Maintenance Request: Chapter 10

Joel Miller x f!reader | new chapter every Friday 18+ | ao3 | main post & chapter list chapter word count: 5k

chapter summary: so you texted Joel back, but you haven't really talked since you saw him across the quad on Friday. what's going to happen at work on Monday? a/n: thank you as always to @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta 💕  chapter tags/warnings: angst, misunderstandings, fluff, flirting, kissing, full tags and notes about reader on main post, pet names (new ones: honey, baby)

Chapter 10

Monday, October 21 Ninth week of the semester

On Monday morning you were flustered and nervous before you even left your house. You’d barely slept, tossing and turning all night because you couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation that awaited you. You knew Joel would seek you out, and you knew you’d been short with him over text. 

You knew you might be assuming the worst, but every time you tried to talk yourself out of it you heard his voice again — placating you, convincing you that you were seeing things. Telling you not to worry. He spent two years training you to second guess yourself and even now, five years out of that relationship with a lot of therapy behind you, it was hard to push the voice away.

You ended up having to rush out of the door after uselessly dithering over your worries and your outfit. You were almost late, again. You tried to put it all aside as you walked from your garage to your building that morning, taking deep breaths in time with your steps. Joel isn’t like Matt. They have nothing in common. The idea was reassuring on its face, but didn’t really help. You tried to focus on getting to your office and the work you needed to do that you’d accidentally left behind on Friday in your haste to get away from campus.

As you entered the quad and your building came into view, you realized something was wrong. There was a large group of men in hard hats milling around outside, and they had roped off your building at a distance of about 15 feet. You felt your heart rate pick up. What now?

As you approached the building, you noticed a familiar set of shoulders. Joel was standing on the outside of the crowd, arms crossed, brows furrowed. He wasn’t in a vest or hardhat this time. And the same woman from Friday, the one you were so worried about — she was standing right next to him. Your breath caught in your throat as you froze.

You needed to get closer to see what was going on, and at the same time, you needed to get as far away from here as possible. The warring impulses pinned you in place on the path. You tried to breathe and decide what to do but your brain felt like it was static — white noise and nothing else.

Just as you managed to shift your weight, Joel noticed you. He looked, well… Joel was always happy to see you, you realized in that moment. Always smiling, chin up, shoulders relaxed. But right then he looked apprehensive, too. You knew that was probably your fault, but that voice in your head that sounded like Matt told you maybe it was because he was caught, and he knew it. You shook it away and took a deep breath before closing the distance between you and him. Joel met you in the middle.

“Mornin’, darlin’, I’m sorry about all this—” A loud BANG from your building interrupted him and your eyes widened as a plume of smoke seemed to erupt from the roof. 

“Joel, what—” you gulped. “What’s going on?” He reached out to put his hand on your elbow, but you stepped away. The look on his face as you pulled away from him hurt — it was disappointment and worry and rejection, all at once. It hit you like a punch to the stomach but you steeled yourself against it. “I have to get in there, Joel! I need—” BANG. The sound interrupted you again. You winced.

Joel was shaking his head when you looked back to meet his gaze. “You can’t go in right now, I’m sorry. There’s an issue with the ventilation and the gas line, they’re tryin’ to get it cleaned up. Mostly done now but it hasn’t been cleared yet.”

You felt dizzy. Joel was looking at you like you’d broken his heart just by stepping away from him a moment before, and the woman whose mere presence had set off all of your insecurities was standing just five feet away, watching the entire painful interaction. You took in a shaky breath and realized you felt tears gathering at the back of your eyes. No, you refuse to cry. Not here. 

“Joel, I— I have to get in there! I have class in less than half an hour, everything I need is in my office. What—” you realized you were panicking and tried to take a deep breath. You knew, somewhere in the back of your mind, that you could handle class without getting to your office. But this was just one more thing on top of all of the stress you’d felt all weekend, and it was one too many. Your pitch rose as you babbled and you knew your hands were shaking. 

Joel watched you, and you saw him start to reach out before cutting off the movement. He curled his hand into a fist at his side and his jaw set as he seemed to come to a decision. 

“What is it that you need?” Something about the intensity of his gaze compelled you to answer his question.

“Just— just the papers I left by my keyboard. But Joel—” you opened your mouth to say it wasn’t that important, you were just stressed, it would be fine, but he had already turned. “Joel, wait!”

He waved his arm back at you, yelling that he’d be back, and disappeared into the crowd. “Shit.” You cursed and closed your eyes, tilting your head back. 

You heard the woman, who was still standing next to you, clear her throat.

“So, I’m Tess.” You opened your eyes to see her holding her right hand out to you with an amused look on her face. “You must be the gorgeous professor who doesn’t hate Joel’s guts. At least, he thought you didn’t.” She quirked an eyebrow at you and you blinked in surprise.

“I, um—” you realized you were leaving her hanging and reached your hand out to shake hers. “He did say that was me… yes.” You felt unmoored by this sudden friendly conversation. You realized she’d probably just watched that entire interaction you’d had with Joel.

Tess seemed to consider you, tilting her head to the side, taking you in. Suddenly her eyebrows rose and she smiled. “Joel’s my best friend. Has been for about 10, 15 years now.” 

You blinked at her, perplexed. “What?”

She put her hands on her hips and sighed. “Look, I’m just going to be direct. I’m getting the feeling you got a different impression of my relationship with Joel, when we saw you on Friday. So you know, just letting you know. He’s like my annoying older brother.” She raised her eyebrows at you, waiting for you to get it. 

Shit. 

You suddenly sucked in a deep breath and then laughed, a little hysterically. “Shit.” You said it  out loud this time. “I—“ you shook your head, glad Tess was still smiling at you. “I’m such an idiot. I just—” you wiped your hands down your face and sighed. “I don’t want you to think I thought he was that kind of guy. This… it just reminded me of an, um, issue from my past. And I guess I overreacted. But I knew it wasn’t like him, even without, um. Knowing him that well, I guess. I was going to try to talk to him today.” You were rambling, and you knew it. You weren’t sure why you were explaining it to her, other than just not wanting her to think badly of you. His best friend. Shit.

She nodded. “I figured. From the way he’s been talking about you, I knew you were… well. Sounded like the two of you were on the same page.” You nodded. “He’s in pretty deep already, you know.”

“Yeah, I just… just got all in my head about it, I guess. I’ll, um. I’ll talk to him about it, like I said. Explain myself.” You cleared your throat nervously. “I’m, um. I’m in pretty deep, too.” Tess smiled in response, clearly amused. 

Any further conversation was interrupted by Joel shouting your name from closer to the building. You looked up to see him jogging towards you, holding a familiar stack of papers up in his left hand. He was smiling at you, expression hesitant but full of hope. Your breath caught. 

He came to a stop right in front of you, and held the papers out to you. You felt stunned. You looked down at them, but made no move to take them before looking back up to meet his eyes. His smile started to fade the longer you stood there and he looked even more unsure. You could see his face starting to close off to you. You couldn’t stand it.

“I thought you were dating Tess.” The words tumbled out of you before you could stop them, needing to do or say anything you could to stop him looking at you like that. He blinked, and his mouth dropped open. You heard Tess snort from somewhere to your left, but you couldn’t look away from Joel.

“You—” he started, and seemed to work his jaw, looking for the words. “Ah, no, darlin’. I’m not.” 

You nodded, faintly. “I know. She told me.”

“I, um—” Joel thrust the papers towards you again. “I grabbed your papers for you.” You took them this time, almost on autopilot, looking down at them in your hands. You paused, for a moment too long, before looking back up at him. His expression had fallen even further and your heart clenched in your chest. “Darlin’, I’m not sure what happened, but I’m real so—”

This was too much. You sprang into motion, and he cut himself off to watch as you stuffed the papers in your bag, unthinking, and dropped it right there on the ground. Threw it down, really. He watched you with a perplexed look on his face.

“You’re not dating Tess.” He shook his head, still confused. Eyed your bag where it landed on the ground, looking like maybe he wanted to pick it up for you. You stepped closer to him.

“And you just ran inside the building to grab these papers for me. Which weren’t even that important.” In pretty deep. You heard Tess’ words echo again in your head.

Joel blushed. “Darlin’, I—”

You didn’t let him finish. You reached out, hands still a bit shaky, and grasped the front of his plaid shirt. Before he could react, you hauled him forward and leaned in to meet his lips with your own. Hard. 

You heard and felt Joel breathe in through his nose in surprise, and for a moment neither of you moved — you were frozen, eyes closed, your lips pressed together, no other point of contact except your hands clutching his shirt. You started to wonder if you had it all wrong, after all, if maybe he didn’t—

And then Joel seemed to burst into motion. His hands slid around your shoulders and back, bringing you closer and holding you against him. He tilted his head and deepened the kiss, and suddenly you weren’t aware of anything else, not anymore. Nothing but the way he held you in his arms and the way he stole your breath, moving his lips softly against yours.

You weren’t sure how long the kiss had lasted — it could have been 10 seconds or 10 minutes — when Tess cleared her throat and you stumbled back from each other in surprise. Joel’s right hand stayed huge and warm on your hip as you stared at each other. His hair was tousled — did you do that? — and his lips were swollen and red. Your eyes locked on to them, unable to look anywhere else. You watched as he smiled, all hesitance and uncertainty gone from his expression.

“I believe one of you needs to go teach, and the other needs to go oversee what’s going on with the building.” Tess sounded a bit smug. You blinked. 

“Shit!” You exclaimed, again. “What time is it?” You finally turned your eyes from Joel, but didn’t step away. 

Tess rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. “You have five minutes, teach. Better get going.” You nodded.

When you turned back to Joel, you found he was still looking at you. “I have to go, I have class but Joel, later? We’ll talk?” You smiled, you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling, and raised your hand to touch his shoulder again. He nodded. His gaze held you in place like you were magnetized.

“Ahem.” Tess was really laughing at the two of you now. 

“Right! Ok, I’m going.” You bent down to gather your bag, wincing as you got a look at the mess it had become inside. Joel’s hand finally fell from your hip and you felt the loss of its warmth. “Later?”

He nodded and spoke for the first time since you’d kissed him. His voice was even deeper than usual and it rumbled over you, sending a shiver down your spine. “You can count on it, darlin’.” 

You took a few steps backwards, eyes locked on Joel’s, before turning. “It was nice to meet you, Tess!” She called back the same, and then as you started to walk faster to get to your class, you heard her start to tease him.

“Hates your guts, huh?”

“Can it.” His sarcastic tone and her laughter was the last thing you heard as you turned the corner and started to jog towards your building. You grinned, feeling lighter than you had in days. 

…

You floated through your class like you had no worries in the world — aside from the stack of assignments stuffed in your bag that you hadn’t actually been able to grade. Your students didn’t seem concerned, but they did notice your ridiculously good mood. You shrugged it off. “The coffee’s just good today, I guess.” A couple of them smiled, a couple of them groaned. That was about right.

By the time you made it back to your building, whatever the issue was had been cleared up and the crowd of hard hats was gone. You felt a twinge of disappointment, knowing Joel probably had other things to do across campus, but shook your head. He’d come find you later. He’d promised.

You finally made it to your office and started to unpack your bag at your desk, glancing around to see if anything was amiss, but no. Everything was in place aside from the stack of papers you returned to the desk from your bag, a bit crumpled after all the manhandling they had endured. You sat to get started on grading — you had a while before your office hours and afternoon class — when there was a knock at your door.

Your eyes snapped up to the edge of the door where it was slightly open. “Come in!” You called, and your breath caught as a familiar hand came into view, wrapping around the edge of the door to push it open. You stood up almost before you even realized you were moving.

Joel came into view, and for a moment the two of you just stared at each other — you, standing at your desk, one hand still on your mouse, the other gripping the edge in front of you. Joel, standing just inside of your door, hand holding the frame so tight his knuckles turned white. He looked more handsome than ever.

“Darlin’, I—”

“Joel! You—”

You started to talk at the same time, and then both of you laughed. Your smiles broke the tension and you moved forward around your desk. He closed the door and met you in between the visitor chairs, hands coming up to lightly hold your own. “Hey there, gorgeous.” He greeted you with the half smile that always made you feel lighter. “Fancy meeting you here.” You laughed, and squeezed his hands in yours to pull him even closer as you leaned back to prop yourself against your desk. 

You bit your lip as you took him in. “Long time no see.” 

He leaned in and hummed in response. He placed his lips so close to your ear you could feel his breath, and murmured, “I don’t want to let another moment pass with any misunderstandings, darlin’, so let’s get a couple things straight.” He ghosted his lips against your hairline in a soft kiss. “The only person I want to date is you. I’m sorry you doubted that, even for a second.” 

You shook your head. “No, Joel, it’s not your fault. I saw something and let my mind run away with me, I didn’t even talk to you about it. I, um, well—” He kissed you again, just in front of your ear, and you sighed and tilted your head to give him better access. It bolstered you when he took the invitation as it was intended and kissed you again, softly, on the cheek. “I had a… bad experience. With an ex. I reacted based on that, not because of anything you did. I don’t want you thinking this was your fault at all, I—”

“Shh,” he hushed you softly and met your eyes. “I understand. You don’t have to tell me about it right now, it’s ok.” He leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead and the tenderness in the gesture made your breath catch. You squeezed his hands even tighter, suddenly feeling like you might cry with relief. “I was so worried you’d changed your mind. I was determined to fix it, whatever it was I’d done. But I didn’t want to push, ’n I wanted to wait until I saw you in person, ‘stead of trying to hash it out in text messages.”

You shook your head, and smiled at your past self and how much you’d let yourself spiral over the weekend. “Ellie and Beth both told me I was being silly, spiraling for no reason without talking to you. But it really was a reaction from my past, Joel. I mean…” you trailed off, and he caught your eye, encouraging you to continue. “The only reason I was so upset is because of how much I like you.” You bit your lip, and it drew his eyes like a magnet.

“Darlin’, I was stewin’ all weekend, worried you might not let me take you out anymore. You got no idea how much I like you.” You smiled and buried your face in the collar of his flannel shirt. Joel took the opportunity to release your hands and slide his own across your back, pulling you close. You felt their path across your body like a brand. “Pretty glad you kissed me this morning, too. Been wanting to hold you like this.”

“Oh?”

He hummed, and slid one hand up to cup the back of your neck, where you marveled at its size. The other found a new home on your lower back. “Been trying to take it slow, gorgeous.” You smiled into his neck and wrapped your own arms around his waist before lifting your chin and pressing a soft kiss there, just inside his collar.

Joel groaned and let his forehead fall to your shoulder. “We’re still on for Friday, right?” He mumbled into your neck, pressing his own gentle kisses up higher and higher until you could feel his breath on your ear again. 

“Yes, Joel,” you breathed, sinking into the feeling of being in his arms and feeling his lips on your skin. “You gonna kiss me again?” You teased him, pressing a kiss just below his jawline. He smirked against your neck. 

“I am kissin’ you, darlin’,” he punctuated his statement with a soft kiss just behind your ear. You pulled back.

“You know what I mean, Joel Miller.” You realized at some point in the last few minutes you’d perched up on the very edge of your desk and he’d pressed forward into the open space between your knees. You weren’t quite pressed together, but you were close. 

“You want me to kiss you, honey?” The new endearment slipped right down your spine and settled there at the base like a warm ember. You pulled him closer and brought your lips a hair’s breadth away from his. 

“Thought I made that pretty clear on the sidewalk earlier.” He laughed, and you felt it against your own lips like a caress. 

“That you did. You know how much ribbing I got for that later?”

It was your turn to laugh, picturing the other guys giving him a hard time. “Oh? What’d they say?” 

He shook his head and hummed. “I’ve been encouraged to get a room, but also congratulated on punching so far above my weight class.” You scoffed while he smiled at you.

“Do I need to remind you of your nickname? Hot Construction Guy?” You raised your eyebrows at him.

“Baby, whatever I am, I don’t hold a candle to you.”

Before you could protest — Joel was the most attractive man you’d ever seen, after all, and it wasn’t even close — he leaned forward and kissed you again.

It was even better this time.

You were more present — less frazzled, less confused, less stressed — and you sank smoothly into his kiss. He pressed his lips against yours with intent, with gentle passion that immediately sank its hooks in you and latched on tight. His lips were soft and pliant against yours and the sensation awakened something in you that felt heady and deep.

You wanted more.

Joel stepped closer, bringing himself flush against you. You sighed into his mouth. He teased you with his tongue against your lower lip before deepening the kiss, tongue sliding against your own.

You took your own opportune moment to place both of your hands in his back pockets and squeeze. Joel moaned, softly, and it was the best sound you’d ever heard.

You could feel your own interest and arousal growing. But then he softened the kiss, pressing his lips against your own once, twice, three more times, before putting a little bit of space between your mouths.

“Better stop before we get too carried away, honey.” You whined softly in response without realizing you were going to do it, and you felt your cheeks heat. He kissed you softly on the left one. “M’not opposed to office sex in theory, darlin’, but I want our first time to be in a bed. And I definitely want to take you out first.” You sighed and nodded, agreeing. Even as the mental image of office sex threatened to send you spiraling into a daydream, no matter what you’d said to Beth before. Joel wouldn’t have a hard time convincing you, you could tell. 

“Me too, Joel.” You kissed the edge of his jaw again and felt him smile. For a moment the two of you just sank into a tighter embrace. His hug was already something you didn’t want to do without — it was warm and soft and comforting. He was so broad, and his hands were huge. It was the best feeling, being held by Joel.

“I don’t want to wait until Friday to see you again.” You squeezed him around the waist as you said it, and he pressed his lips to the spot where your neck met your shoulder. 

“Couldn’t stay away if I tried, darlin’. Only barely made myself go back to my office, instead of waiting for you here during your class.” You laughed into his shirt. 

He smiled against your neck again. “Let’s have lunch today. And tomorrow. Everyday this week, even, except Wednesday when I got a damn meeting.” He grumbled that last part. You shook your head a little. 

“And I have one on Thursday. But I want to see you anyway. Wish our date was today.”

Joel leaned back to catch your eye. “If it wasn’t a school night, it would be.”

“Oh!” You couldn’t believe you didn’t ask before. “Is Sarah… I mean, I guess she probably noticed we weren’t… I hope she isn’t mad. At me. For leaving you hanging all weekend.”

Joel shook his head. “Mostly no. She’s just protective of me, no reason to be worried. She noticed I was a bit down, tried to reassure me that I hadn’t done anything, just had to talk to you. But I think she didn’t really know what to think, since I didn’t either.” You closed your eyes, worried now, too. “I’ll tell her what happened tonight.”

“Tell her I said it wasn’t about you, Joel, because it wasn’t. I know enough to know you’re a good man. I even said so to Ellie and Beth on Saturday.” 

He smiled at you, soft. “And I know enough about you to know you’re too kind to not explain it.” He brought one hand up to cup your face. “I’m just glad we worked it out so fast and I got to kiss you today. Got no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Oh?” You pulled your arms in so you could run your hands up his chest and then tangle them in his hair. “How long is that?”

Joel ducked his head, looking sheepish. “Well, just in terms of thinking you were beautiful, from that first day I saw you on the bench in the Secret Garden. But the real answer is that day when you spilled coffee on yourself. I wanted so badly for you to like me, and there you were, gorgeous and magnificent and angry.”

You groaned and dropped your face onto his chest again. “M’sorry I was such a hateful asshole.” Your voice was muffled in his shirt. You felt Joel rest his cheek against the top of your head. 

“It’s ok, honey. You don’t need to keep apologizin’ for it. I really was poppin’ up at the worst moments, over and over again. Was startin’ to worry about it, myself. Thought maybe I was cursed.” You nodded and laughed against his shirt. “Was worried I’d never get the chance to see if this would have gone anywhere. Even if you are gorgeous when you’re mad.”

You shook your head, and tilted it back to meet his eyes. “Even when I was pissed in the moment I was smart enough to see what a catch you are.” 

He snorted and shook his head. “A catch, huh?”

“I’ll say it until you believe it, Joel Miller. You are the hottest man I have ever seen.” He started to scoff, but stopped himself, looking shy. “I mean it. Have you seen your shoulders? Your eyes? And your hands? And you’re kind, and funny. And smart. And a good dad.”

Joel hid his face in your shoulder again before you could really take in his blush. He pressed his lips lightly up the side of your neck. You sighed. “I thought we were stopping.”

“We are,” he murmured in response. He reached up with his right hand to cup your jaw. “Just one more kiss, baby. Gotta kiss you, after you said all those nice things.”

You sank into him again, already wondering how you were going to make it to Friday.

…

bestie (11:45 AM): WHAT (11:46 AM): are you telling me you kissed HCG in front of god and everybody on campus and I MISSED IT

you (11:47 AM): you snooze you lose

bestie (11:48 AM): I can’t believe you (11:48 AM): was it any good

you (11:48 AM): 🥰 (11:49 AM): I think I’m floating. it’s like some sort of Hallmark romcom in here

bestie (11:50 AM): shit, what am I saying (11:50 AM): of course it was (11:51 AM): I’m surprised he didn’t just jump into your pants right there in your office

you (11:52 AM): we might have honestly but he stopped. wants to wait for our date

bestie (11:53 AM): UGH (11:53 AM): anyway, I’m glad we were right and he’s not an asshole after all (11:54 AM): did you explain

you (11:56 AM): yes (11:56 AM): not about Matt, exactly (11:57 AM): just that I had a… bad relationship

bestie (12:01 PM): understatement of the year (12:01 PM): that makes sense. it’s a lot to unload

you (12:02 PM): yeah. we have time

bestie (12:03 PM): oooh you have tiiiiime

you (12:03 PM): can it

bestie (12:04 PM): you love me

…

Ellie (4:37 PM): i can’t believe you kissed him!! in public!! (4:37 PM): like what (4:38 PM): who even are you 

you (4:39 PM): thanks 

(4:39 PM): 🙄

Ellie (4:41 PM): I don’t want any details ever but 

you (4:49 PM): … but what 

Ellie (4:53 PM): I’m trying to figure out how to ask about it without having to hear any details about my aunt making out with a guy 😒

you (4:55 PM): 😂 I’ll just say it was good and we’re still going out Friday

Ellie (4:57 PM): gross (4:57 PM): but also that’s good I guess (4:58 PM): i’m glad we were right and he’s not an asshole (4:58 PM): so I don’t have to fight him 🔪

you (4:59 PM): same, honestly

Ellie (5:01 PM): hey, people like us!! even though we’re us! wild

you (5:02 PM): guess we’re not totally off putting 

Ellie (5:02 PM): speak for yourself 

you (5:03 PM): wow rude 

…

Joel (4:38 PM): Can’t wait to see you tomorrow, darlin. (4:39 PM): I might still be thinking about those kisses.

you (4:41 PM): oh yeah? well you might not be the only one

Joel (4:45 PM): That right?

you (4:46 PM): guess you’ll have to find out tomorrow

Joel (4:48 PM): oh?

you (4:51 PM): what do you think about having lunch in my office? you know. for privacy

Joel (4:53 PM): Honey, that is the best idea I’ve heard all week. 

you (4:54 PM): see you then, handsome 💕

Joel (4:58 PM): Count on it, gorgeous.

...

a/n: they did it!! prev | next

taglist: @jupiter-soups @ilovepedro @auteurdelabre @katareyoudrilling @anoverwhelmingdin @myloveistoolittle @iknowisoundcrazy @beezusvreeland @screechingphantommaker @bigboiseason123 @joelalorian @untamedheart81 @jeewrites

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #tlou fic #joel miller fic #x reader #maintenance request fic #JHCGBDM #kissing #smooches

[acewritesfics]

I'm Late | Jay Halstead

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Request: From anon

Fic Type: Imagine. Can be read as a prequel to Baby Halstead

Prompt: "You're my voice of reason but right now I need you to shut up." 

Warnings: Mentions of feeling sick, period talk, pregnancy.

Word Count: 1,921

JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST | TAG LIST SIGN-UP

⚠️ THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY MAIN BLOG @/DLMLUFICS. UNFORTUNATELY, I HAVE TO DO IT THIS WAY. MORE INFO IN MY PINNED POST.

As Y/N studies the file Trudy handed her as soon as she entered the station, she is slouched over with her elbows resting on her desk and her fingers massaging her temple. She finds it difficult to focus on the written words on the papers, and the more she tries the worse her nausea and headache becomes. 

Jay ends their conversation with Atwater about their weekend plans and turns to face his girlfriend when she doesn't respond to a question, he's asked her. His face furrowed into a worried expression. She didn't look well last night and this morning, her mood was all over the place, and she had been strangely quiet since they had their morning shower together. 

"Are you okay?" he asks after he gets her attention. 

"I'm fine," she sighs as she shoots up from her chair and rushes out of the bullpen and into the restroom, a wave of nausea washing over her once more. 

Jay wasn't the only person who noticed the odd shift in Y/N. He steps out from behind his desk as Kim gets up from hers, assuring him she'll go check on her. As he sits down, he nods, silently thanking her. His concern for his fiancée has him unable to concentrate on the file in front of him. He leans back in his chair, monitoring the entrance, nervously chewing his cheek, and tapping his pen against his knee as he waits for her to return. 

Y/N is slumped over one of the toilets in the restroom, unsure if the bile in her stomach will come up. She shuts her eyes and wills her stomach to stop churning and her head to stop spinning. 

"Y/N?" From the doorway, Kim's quiet voice can be heard. 

She stands up and braces herself against the cubicle's metal walls as her head spins, calling out to her from the end stall, "In here." 

"Are you sure you're alright?" Kim asks, her expression apprehensive. In comparison to five minutes ago, Y/N looks worse. She nods her head before swinging her head side to side. The brunette detective steps forward to comfort her. "What's wrong?" 

She informs her, "I'm late." 

"Late?" Kim questions her. When Y/N gives her a look, Kim's eyes widen in surprise. "How late are you?" 

"About 2 to 3 weeks," she responds, recalling last night when she realized her period was late. She never kept track of it, but every month, give or take a few days, she always got it around the same time. However, it was never this late.  

She first reasoned with herself that she might not have remembered having it two weeks earlier since she's been so preoccupied with work, the upcoming wedding, and the drama going on between her parents. But then she remembered back to seven weeks ago. She'd gotten her period the Monday before her, and Jay went away for the weekend. She was down to her last two sanitary items when it ended the Friday morning they left for the cabin. She made a note in her phone to get more when her period started next. That Friday night and Saturday had been spent mostly in bed and there might have been one time they forgot to be careful. 

"Do you believe you might be?" 

"Maybe. I'm not sure," She breathes. 

"Have you spoken with Jay?" 

Shaking her head, Y/N "It might just be pre-wedding jitters, right? When you're under pressure, periods can be late." 

"Is Jay still going out with Will tonight?" Kim enquiries. 

She nods, "He is. Will said something about it being bachelor party business." 

"Well then, how about a girls' night at your place?" Kim suggests. "I'll provide the snacks and pregnancy tests, and you can order some pizza and choose the movies." 

"I don't have a choice, do I?" Y/N asks, looking at her anxiously. 

"Hell no," Kim smiles.  

She asks jokingly, "What would I do without you, Kim Burgess?" 

"Crash and burn," Kim responds. "This is what best friends and work partners are for. Now, let's get back out there before Jay bursts in with guns blazing." 

Kim leads Y/N out of the restroom, then let's go of her when they reach the bullpen. Jay is still waiting warily at his desk when Y/N approaches him. Her legs are crossed in front of her as she leans on his desk with her arms folded across her chest. 

Looking up at her with the same deeply concerned blue eyes as before, he asks, "Everything okay?" 

"I've got a headache but it's finally going away," she tells him, and it's not a lie. "Kim is coming over tonight while you're out with Will. Bachelorette party business." 

"You know, we could disappoint them both, forgo the bachelor/bachelorette parties, and just spend the night together, just the two of us," he proposes, a hopeful look in his eyes. Jay is still unaware of his brother's plans for his party, and a part of him is afraid to find out. 

"And rob them of their duties as best man and maid of honor?" she asks, smiling and feeling considerably better than a few minutes ago. For the time being, she pushes her possible pregnancy to the back of her mind as they focus on wedding talk. "We'd break their little hearts, and I don't think I can handle Kim staring at me with those puppy eyes." 

He concurs with her, saying, "I don't think I can handle seeing them too." 

She reassures him, "It was a wonderful suggestion, though. Perfect even." 

He smiles again, this time with a mischievous glimmer in his eye, "Maybe next time." 

"Next time?" she asks, pretending to be upset, knowing he was joking with her.  "Honey, I may not be the first person you said, 'I do' with, but I'm damn sure going to be the last." 

He chuckles, "I meant in 40 years when we renew our vows, and the kids are all grown up." 

Her smile falters a little at the mention of kids. Jay catches it, but Hank exits his office with a piece of paper in his hand before he can say anything. 

"Halstead, Upton, I need you two to go check out this person," he orders, handing Hailey the piece of paper. 

"I love you. Be safe," Y/N instructs Jay as he gets up and puts his jacket on. It was something the two of them say often before they leave the district without each other. 

"I love you too and I will," he responds, kissing her lips briefly before following Hailey down the stairs. Y/N returns to the file on her desk, now that she can focus better on it. 

Later on in the evening, Y/N sat by herself on the couch as she awaited Jay's return from his night out with his brother. Before Kim and Hailey, whom Y/N had invited when she and Jay returned to the district, forced her into the bathroom, she managed to spend a significant portion of the night avoiding the two pregnancy test boxes that were sitting on the kitchen counter. Hailey didn't require much persuasion once Kim explained what was going on; she immediately agreed to whatever Kim had planned. It was a two-on-one situation, and Y/N regretted agreeing with Kim's plans for tonight. 

Just as they were about to find out the results, Jay called Y/N to let her know he was on his way back home. Kim and Hailey both agreed that they should leave so that she could talk to Jay alone but made Y/N promise to keep them in the loop. After the two left, Y/N became too anxious to look at the tests herself and left them sitting on a paper towel beside the bathroom sink. 

It felt like an eternity passed before she heard Jay's key in the lock and the door opening. She stands up and moves around the coffee table to meet him halfway.  

"Hey, can we talk?" she asks him, her voice wavering with nerves. 

"Yeah. What's up?" he asks, the bright smile on his handsome face fading as he takes in her nervous appearance and voice.  

Biting the inside of her cheek, her head is flooded with 100 different ways she can bring up the pregnancy tests in the bathroom. She starts rubbing her hands together, to give them something to do and to stop herself from pacing a hole in the floor. She's never felt so anxious about telling someone something before.  

"Talk to me," he gently tells her when she remains quiet, too far inside her own head. Jay looks at her worried and takes her hands into his. He strokes the back of her hands with his thumb, calming her slightly. "What's going on? Did something happen tonight? Are you feeling sick again? Did your headache come back? Are you-" he begins to ramble only to be cut off by her finding her voice again. 

"I love you so much, Jay. I really do. You're my best friend, the love of my life and," Y/N starts, her voice thick with nerves. "You're my voice of reason but right now I need you to shut up." 

"What's going on?" he asks, letting her words roll off him. "You've been acting weird since last night." 

Her mind blanks as she tries to find the words to tell him that on top of becoming a husband in a month's time, that he almost might possibly be a dad also and the tests to determine whether he will be a dad or not are currently on the bathroom counter waiting to be looked at.  

Getting an idea, she hurries into the bathroom, leaving Jay standing there confused by her actions. He doesn't recall a time that he's seen her like this, ever, and to say he isn't concerned would be the biggest understatement of the century. 

She comes back holding the test in her hands and tells him, "I can't bring myself to look at them." 

The look on his face turns from one of concern to a look of surprise. "It would explain a lot."  

She nods agreeing with him as she sits on their couch. He moves to sit next to her. "If the tests are positive, the only thing that's going to change is that we're going to be parents." 

"And if they're not?"  

"Then we can try when we've settled into married life." 

"I love you," she says looking at him, still avoiding looking at the tests.  

"I love you too," he smiles, kissing her softly. He takes one of the pregnancy tests from her, "Ready?" 

She nods again. They both look at the tests in their hands, both having the two small pink lines come up.  

"Looks like we're getting married and having a baby," Jay says looking at the test in her hands, seeing that one is also positive.  

Y/N looks at him, seeing a small smile on his face. "Are you okay with that?"  

"When I proposed, I said I wanted to do it all with you and that included starting a family. It's just happening a little sooner than we expected. So, I'm more than okay with that." 

"How did I get so lucky?" she smiles lovingly at him.  

"I ask myself that every day," he says kissing her again, his hand moving to her belly. "You're going to make an amazing mom." 

She covers his hand with hers, her smile growing, "And you're going to be an incredible dad." 

TAGGED: @mrspeacem1nusone - @halsteadbrasil - @allisonargent144 - @cs-please - @alexxavicry - @nicole-19s-world

#acewritesfics repost #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead #chicago pd x reader

[parvulous-writings]

It may come to absolutely no surprise to you but.......I have a preference to Halsin in BG3.

If you have any desire to write some fluff......If I could gift this man some honey comb in a jar with a handkerchief wrapped around the top, and there is a duck stitched on the corner of the cloth. I would. Cuz I really wanna. 💕

Words: 2.06K

Notes: Honestly, I do not blame you! Who couldn't love this big bear of a man? He's amazing! Takes place after the main game plot <3 My requests are currently open, though limited! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!  Original character list - please request for these too!

Halsin Silverbough - Archdruid and friend to many - was an absolute sweetheart, through and through. It was no secret that this strong hulk of a man was not only reasonable when it came to conflict, but actively sought the betterment of those around him. He sought it so actively, in fact, that he rarely ever left time for himself. He was always so ingrained or focused on what he thought needed to be done to right what wrong he could, that he gave little thought to when he may need to just take a step back, and relax. So, you took it upon yourself to give him the opportunity to.

Of course, being the lover of the Archdruid comes with some perks; one of those being that you knew everyone within the Grove. One of the younger druids, a young halfling named Barnan, had taken up beekeeping once the druids had re-settled, and that gave you the perfect idea for Halsin's little treat. "Good morning, Barnan!" You greet the shorter figure as you approach, glass jar in hand. Barnan jumps, startled by your somewhat sudden appearance. "I was wondering if you could lend me a hand.." You chuckle lightly, as Barnan recovers. "Oh, but of course-" He says quickly, patting down the apron that he so often wore over his normal plain clothes. "What is it that you need?" He asks you, a smile starting to spread over his face.

"I was hoping to get Halsin a little something... He's been practically run off of his feet again recently, and I think he deserves a treat..." You explain, not getting too into all the details, but giving the Halfling enough to know that it was important to you. He nods enthusiastically, turning to the shelves he had pitched up outside his little shack; "Let me see if I have anything that might take his fancy..." He muses, tapping gently at his chin. "Actually, I had something in mind already..." You gently tell him, and as he turns, you hold up the glass jar you had brought with you. "Halsin likes honey - I was wondering if one of your hives could spare some honeycomb for him?" Barnan blinks, then begins to nod, reaching for the jar. "Oh, but of course, of course! Let me take that for you..." He then pauses, looking at the jar for a moment, almost... Concerned. "Are you quite sure this will be enough..?" He turns his gaze back to you for a moment. You seem almost shocked - that was one of the larger jars you had found. Though, looking at it now... You supposed Barnan had a point - Halsin naturally had a large appetite. "Do you have a larger jar?" You ask after a moment's pause, and Barnan grins. "I wouldn't be a very good beekeeper if I didn't, now, would I?" He replied, making you laugh. "I'll grab one for you," He tells you as he hands you your jar back. "Wait here, I shan't be long.." You nod and move to take a seat on a stool Barnan often sits on in the morning - he loves his spot here, with a perfect view of the morning sun.

The breeze is lovely; warm and inviting, and carrying the many scents of the various wildflowers that are nearby, that grow all over the grove in fact. Branan really knew how to pick a good spot for himself to stay - and an even better for his beehives. There wasn't much that you considered 'perfect', but this place? A place so gorgeous, and the home of those you held so dear? This was perfect, without a doubt. Lost in your thoughts, you're unsure of how much time actually passes whilst Barnan retrieves some honeycomb for you. When he returns, he's carrying in incredibly large jar in his arms. "You're in luck," He pants to you, as he places the filled jar on the grass by your legs, "There was a fair deal of surplus comb in all the hives - I really should be keeping on top of them more, this far into summer... Ah well, I just suppose the days have been getting away from me!" He laughs. You chuckle along with him. "Thank you, Barnan... I really appreciate this..." You get to your feet, leaning down to pick up the jar with both hands. "Oh it's no trouble, no trouble at all... Give Master Halsin my regards!" "Of course - I wouldn't dream of neglecting to mention your help," You muse. "Have a good day, friend." You smile at him, and Barnan gives a nod, still smiling warmly. "And to you, my friend."

And with that, you start the short walk back to yours and Halsin's shared quarters, deeper in the Grove. It's always a pleasant walk - whether it's in the middle of the day, or the dead of night. During the day, you're greeted with polite 'hellos' and 'how are you's', and at night, you get to bask in the blissful sounds of nature as the world sleeps. By the time you manage to get back to your shared space, Halsin is already awake, half dressed, and lumbering out into the near midday sun. He stretches, basking in the warmth the light blesses him with, as you quickly try to hide the jar behind your back, not quite ready to give him the gift. "Good morning, my heart.." He greets you, smiling lovingly down at you. "I see you did not wake me..." He muses as he moves a bit closer. "May I ask why?" "I just thought that you deserved a bit of a rest... You haven't given much time for yourself recently, and I think you should." You reply, nodding as you spoke. Halsin starts to nod with you, humming quietly in agreement. He could find no fault in your answer. He starts to chuckle lightly; "Sometimes I feel like you know me better than even I know myself," He tells you, opening his arms and stepping forward for a hug. You quickly duck under his arm, spinning round before he can see the honey pot you're concealing with your torso. Halsin's head turns, trying to catch up with where you've flitted to, his expression portraying his almost comical bafflement. "My love..?" He starts, trailing off mid-sentence. "No you haven't done anything." You quickly clear up for him, giving him a smile of reassurance. "Then why do you dodge my embrace, hm?" "I have a surprise for you," You divulge, your tone almost cheeky. "And it'd be an awful shame to ruin it." Halsin can't help but laugh a little bit at this - he thinks himself almost foolish for so quickly jumping to the idea that you would recoil from his embrace, and your audacious tone did also amuse him so. "Alright, I shall... Let it go, this time." He teases. "I hope that the surprise will be ready before this evening, so I may embrace you at least once today..." "It will, it will... So long as you actually let me go continue preparing it.." You tease, and Halsin bows his head a bit in laughter. "As you wish, my love..." He murmurs. "I shall leave you to whatever antics you've managed to entrench yourself in today... Just don't get into trouble." He warns, only half joking. You roll your eyes playfully at him, before ducking inside, and out of his sight.

You're quick to rummage through what belongings you have to find the sewing kit you keep, mainly for clothing repairs, picking out a larger needle than normal, alongside some yellow thread. You set to work carefully, threading the needle carefully through the corner of the cloth that covers the honey jar, keeping it safe from bugs and other wandering hands. The little image comes together rather quickly and with a splash of other colours - a dash of black, and orange - you've finished your little project, and before you sits a embroidered duck chick. You admire it for a moment, proud of it. You know for a fact, that Halsin will love this - even if you weren't as proud of it as you were now, he'd still love it. You push yourself to your feet after a moment or so of making sure that you're satisfied, making your way out into the sun again. You shield your eyes with one hand, cradling the jar in your arm much like a baby. It doesn't take you long to find Halsin, knife and woodblock in hand, carefully chipping away at the carving he's started. You stroll towards him, smile growing on your face as you wait for him to notice you. "Ah, my heart..." Halsin starts, his gaze still focused on the block of wood as he carves. "I thought today may be a good opportunity to finally set about making us some new utensils.." He tells you, before finally glancing up. His jaw goes a bit slack, before he starts to laugh. "This was your surprise?" He asks you, as you present the honeycomb to him. "It is indeed... Do you like it?" "Like it? My love, I'm not quite sure how to express my thanks... You really did mean it when you thought I deserved time for myself, hm?" "Oh, I wouldn't say something I don't mean... I know better than that.." You muse quietly. "Barnan also sends his regards..." You grunt softly as you move to sit beside him. He leans over to you and presses a kiss to your cheek, and you can feel the smile still on his lips. "I shall thank him when I see him next..." He tells you as he moves to take the cloth-lid off of the jar, pausing to chuckle at the embroidered duck. "And I presume this is your handiwork?" He asks you, turning the corner of the cloth slightly towards you to show you. You nod at him. "Such a small detail..." The elf muses, smiling as he ran his thumb over the stitches. "Thank you, my love. Truly." He takes off the cloth, placing it on his lap for later, and before you can say anything else to him, his hand is in the jar, grasping for some of the sweet comb inside. You can't help but laugh at the sight - but you knew there was nothing you'd be able to do to stop him. He ignores you, choosing to focus instead on crunching down on the sweet treat you'd procured for him. He practically groans as the taste hits his tongue, and your grin stretches ever wider. "Enjoying yourself, my love?" You ask him, and he nods hurriedly as he takes another mouthful of honeycomb; you start to wonder if it's even touching the sides at this point. "Slow down, you don't want to eat it all in one sitting, do you?" You tease, and at this, he does slow down a little bit. He pauses for a moment, honey dripping off of his hand and into the jar as he finishes his mouthful. He then brings his hand towards your mouth. "Open," He prompts gently, and you comply, soon tasting the same sweet honey you had gifted to your partner.

As he pulls his hand away to eat the rest of the honey stuck to it himself, you give another quiet chuckle. "I didn't think you'd want to share this treat - I wasn't expecting you to." You tell him, and he picks up another chunk of comb, handing it to you. "I know you didn't expect me to. But with you, my love, I would share all of nature's bounty... It is not for one person to hoard it to themselves, it is to be shared and revelled in.." He says, rather sagely, as you bite into the crunchy snack he had bestowed upon you. "I didn't know you felt so strongly about honeycomb." You teased him, smirking as you did. "Of course I do. And don't talk with your mouth full." He playfully chides, gently bumping his shoulder into yours. You both lapse into a comfortable silence after that, sharing the honey and gazing out on the landscape that you call home. It's a peaceful moment, and one that both you and Halsin will certainly treasure for a very, very long time.

#requests open #x reader requests #baldurs gate 3 #x reader oneshot #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 x reader #fluff #baldurs gate x reader #halsin x reader #halsin #halsin baldur's gate 3 #halsin bg3 #halsin fuff

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Quiet Ones 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

Note: I slept for like ten hours and it was fucking wild.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You watch the long needle slide out from under your skin. You don’t feel it much. That man, Lloyd, loops the tube around the IV bag stand. You sit in the bed still, disoriented and dull. You can feel the tension buzzing off of him, as if he’s holding himself back. That scares you more than anything he’s done. 

Before you can say or do anything, your stomach growls. The tumble is painful as your insides squeeze violently. He looks at you and takes your hand, tugging you towards the edge as he snickers. 

“Hungry, jellybean?” He teases, “come on. I’ll make you a nice omelet.” He pulls until you shimmy across the bed. You turn your legs out and can’t help but use his strength to stand. He’s patient as he easily hauls you up. “You okay, babykins? I could carry you. Like before.” 

“N-no,” you try to wiggle your hand free but his grip is unbreakable. He squeezes and you quit your resistance. 

“You might be a bit groggy, that’s normal. The smoke, the meds--” 

“Meds?” 

“Well, I slipped a bit extra in the bag,” he shrugs as he glances over at the IV, “just so you could sleep.” 

You look at him, your horror burning from your eyes. He grins proudly and swings your arm, turning to lead you to the door. You take short steps, muscles stiff and achy, shoulders wracked from sleeping on your back. You look down at yourself and shudder; at least you’re still wearing your own clothes. 

“I’ve been doing cooking classes. I can do a florentine that will blow your tits off,” he boasts as he angles you through the door. 

The hall is airy and echoey. The house must be huge. You get that sense easily. You don’t need to go around and count the rooms. He takes you down the long hallway and you stop at the top of a set of stairs. They bend in the middle but more corning, there’s a large space between each. They’re polished to a shine and look slippery as the morning reflects off of them. 

“Just a step at a time,” he goads as you latch onto the railing.  

You put a foot down and grip both him and the railing. Another tide of wooziness comes over you. It could be what he gave you or your days of restriction, but it’s too much. The world is too much. 

“That’s it, baby,” he coos as you take a second step down.  

This is strange. It reminds you of a movie you watched as a kid with a maze and twisting and turning walkways and a taunting villain. You’ve awoken in his trap and you see no escape in sight. 

You slip on the third and let out a squeak as you feel yourself falling. He’s quick to catch you, scooping you up easily even in the narrow space. He lifts you and continues down swiftly, bringing you onto flat ground. You murmur and rub your head as you feel his heartbeat against your arm. 

You feel a tickle in your hair and hear him take a deep breath. Is he smelling you? You repress a shiver at the thought as your eyes struggle to focus on the shapes all around you.  

He carries you into another room, a kitchen, as spacious and sleek as any other part of the strange house. A white marble counter lines two walls and wraps around into full C, marking off the cooking space. On the other side, there’s glass table in an abstract, asymmetric shape with metal frame chairs around it. The whole place is out of one of those design magazines. All impractical at the expense of aesthetic. 

He sits you in one of the chairs, it’s just a rigid as you expect. He stays bent, holding you by the shoulders until your hold yourself up. He drags his hands down your arms as he reluctantly pulls away. You flutter your lashes and rub your eye sockets, trying to block out your reality. 

“My sleepy bean,” he beams and plants a kiss on the top of your head. “So how about it? Eggs florentine? Or are you in the mood for something a bit sweeter? I’ve perfected my crepes.” 

You grumble and drop your hands slowly, crossing your arms as a chill rolls through you. You feel it pricking in your chest and across your skin. You’re not wearing a bra and your tee shirt is thin. You keep your arms locked. 

You listen to him moving around. You don’t know what to do. You’re too weak to do anything. Even if you could get on the other side of the walls, you have no idea where you are. Where help could be. 

You rock as your fear bubbles up. Why is he doing this? Why does he think you want him? Why you? Of all people. You mind your business, you keep your head down, eyes to yourself... you don’t deserve this. 

You glance over at him as he starts to hum. Your lip quivers as you watch his shoulders blades stretch the fabric of his shirt. He’s a bit ridiculous in a full set of satin pajamas, the dark black speckled with a subtle grey leopard print. He’s too much. 

You turn your head straight and let it hang. You resign yourself to helplessness. You have to be logical about this. You can’t spark his suspicion to soon. You have to wait for a window and then... figure that out, you guess. You don’t like uncertainty. You have a routine and you keep to it. That’s what keeps you safe. Or so you thought. 

“...wise men say, only fools rush in...” he sings softly and you wince. The lyrics of the Elvis ballad make your skin crawl. He’s actually deranged. You don’t know him, you're strangers. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I know tree nuts are a no go,” he chimes as he whisks, turning to you with a broad smile.  

You blink at him. How does he know that? 

“Don’t think you’ll be needing any but I also got penicillin on the no go list and the latex thing... there’s alternatives,” he chuckles and you furrow your brow. “How’s that ticker doing? You been taking lots of iron?” 

Your body hollows out. How much does he know about you? How? You can guess he’s snooped around your medical records. Obviously, he’s a man with criminalistic leanings. Is this even his house? Has he taken you to a fortress he commandeered by force? Is there some terrified family bound in the basement? Is there a basement? 

He continues to futz around the kitchen as you curl your shoulders down and chew on your lips. Speaking of your heart, it’s beating again, racing, almost painfully. You’re a mouse trapped in the corner by the feline with his bristly whiskers. 

Your eyes wander over to the large windows and you stare out at the curated landscape. The property is beautiful and lush. You imagine a whole team maintains the perfectly trimmed hedges and colourful blooms. The stone mosaic pathway and the leafy archway over a bench. It’s like a dream, more so, a twisted nightmare painted in hues of fantasy. 

A plate clinks down before you and a sweet aroma brings you back inside. You face forward as Lloyd steps back on his heel, watching you with anticipation. You look at him then the plate. He pulls out a chair and plops himself down, planting his elbow as he cups his chin and watches. 

“Let me know what you think,” he insists. 

You take a breath and unlock your arms. Slowly, you drag them apart and take the thick butter knife and long fork. The cutlery feels too big for your small hands. You lean forward as the drizzle of dark syrup across the rolled crepe lures you in. Your stomach roars noisily and he giggles. 

“Aw, you must be starving,” he muses, “please eat, baby, I don’t want you to ever go hungry again.” 

You exhale through a ripple of disgust. You cut into the thin crepe and into the filling. Slice off the end of the roll and scoop it up with the filling. You carefully open your mouth around the fork and take a bite. Your eyes flit up to meet Lloyd’s as his gaze sticks on you. There are flames in his blue irises. 

You pull your mouth off the fork in embarrassment as he hums. He’s a weird, weird man. All of this is weird. Surreal. 

You look down at the butter knife and contemplate the gold cutlery. It’s heavy, it would hurt if you used the handle to give him a conk, but the blade is too dull to do much. It can slice through a crepe but wouldn’t do much on meat and bone. You don’t think you could do it, either. The thought of hurting others is just unnatural. 

“Is it good? Tried my own combination,” he explains happily, “dark chocolate syrup, not too much sugar, some softened cream cheese in the middle with black cherry jam.” 

You swallow and look around for something to wipe your lips. Short of a napkin, you lick your lip and clamp them together. He shifts in his chair, an act that makes you feel uncomfortable. 

“Good,” you croak. 

“Oh, wait,” he stands suddenly, “your coffee. Oopsie.” 

He struts away and your stomach mulches the single bite greedily. As much as you want to be stubborn, you’re so hungry. And it’s delicious. It’s better than your usual flavourless fare. You could gobble it all down in a second but you won’t. You carefully cut out another bite as he returns with a tall mug.  

He puts the cup down by your plate. You gulp down a forkful and set down the cutlery. You consider the mug before you take it, the white porcelain marked with the golden outline of a rose above the letter ‘Mrs.’. He has another in his hands, black but with a bowtie above ‘Mr.’. What the hell? 

“Colombian dark roast. A little less caffeine so your heart won’t mind so much,” he says. 

You nod and take the cup. The thought of coffee is enough to override your agitation. You take a sip and hold back a sigh. It’s good. You hate all of this but it’s all so good. You put the cup back and return your attention to the crepes. You pause and glance up at him. He doesn’t have a plate, just his cup. 

“Oh, jellybean, you’re so sweet,” he smirks, “I gotta keep my protein up. I’ll have some eggs and a shake soon. Right now, you just worry about you.” 

You dip your chin down and focus on eating. Small bites. You don’t want to seem too greedy. You don’t want him to see how much you need this. Does he know everything? Of course, he was watching but did he know the days you spent feeling as if your stomach was eating itself? 

He pushes his hair back, trying to tidy the long strands as he watches you, “we’ll get washed up after breakfast. Then you can get settled in and relax. I’ll take care of everything else, alright? You just need to get all dolled up when the time comes,” he explains as he drags his fingertip around the tabletop, “not that you need to do very much.” 

You just chew. What can you say or do? This man is straight up crazy. Not only are you his prisoner, he’s been stalking you. It doesn’t matter when it started, look where it’s ended. No, this can’t be the end. 

“What’s...” you speak before you can think. You shake your head and smother your question with another bite. 

“What? Go on, sugar lips, ask me anything? You wanna know my favourite colour? My favourite song?” His cheeks tint pink as he plays with a button on his pajamas. 

You clear your throat and put down the fork and knife, “what’s going on... later?” 

He tilts his head curiously. 

“The... dress and... doll up?” You repeat his words flatly. 

“That’s a surprise,” he trills as if it should be obvious. “Don’t wanna spoil it, do we?” 

“I guess,” you sit back and fold your hands in your lap. 

“You don’t gotta think about anything, sweet cheeks. You leave the thinking to me. I’m gonna take care of you,” he avows as his hand stretches across the front of his satin shirt. “You just gotta be you.” 

You feel his gaze bearing down on you. You peek up to find his eyes slipping down and you feel them centre on your tee shirt, your nipples poking against the cotton. You hunch your shoulders and cross your arms again. 

“How’s the coffee, jelly bean? You like it?” He tears his attention from your chest. 

“Good, thank you,” you murmur. 

“Ugh, I love hearing your voice,” he puts his coffee down and reaches between his legs. You blanch as he drags his chair closer as he lifts himself. He puts his hand on your knee, stroking with his thumb, “will you call me ‘honey’?” 

You stare at him. Your cheek draw tight and your lips flatten. You want to shake off his touch and scream but that foggy glaze in his eyes deters you. This man is wild. 

“Okay, er,” you gulp tightly and cough, “honey.” 

He hums into a sigh and his hand slips higher on your leg before trail back down, “oh,” he shakes his shoulders, “that tingles. Do it again.” 

You fight not to let your true emotion blaze through. You hug yourself tighter and bite down before you can muster the word, “honey.” 

“Oh, baby, that’s nice,” he winks and sits back, eyes grazing up and down your body, “you cold? You’re all twisted up like a pretzel.” 

You nod. It's an excuse you’ll gladly take. 

“Why didn’t you say something sooner, jellybean?” He stands suddenly and you notice the way he tugs on the waistband of his pants. You turn your head, blurring your vision so everything around you is vague. 

He rushes off and you wait. You don’t know what else to do. You’re still too weak to make a move. Whatever he gave you is potent. Or maybe, you’re just too scared to do more than shrink and surrender. 

He returns with a fluffy purple robe in his hands. He comes around the back of your chair and you lean forward to let him drape it around you. He curls his hands over your shoulders and bends over you. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. 

“You need more coffee, baby cakes?” He asks as he kneads your shoulders. 

“Still working on it,” you pull away from him and grab the cup, “thank you...” you let the words dangle in the silence, tension piquing, “honey.” 

He sighs and draws away with a tickle up your neck, “mmm, isn’t this wonderful?” 

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #the gray man #the quiet ones #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series

[amhrosina]

Afterglow (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Masterlist // Join My Taglist

a/n: another taylor swift song fic lmfao i just cannot help myself, this one is so angsty i almost felt bad for Matt just writing it (someone pls give that man a hug, he NEEDS one) also i feel so bad about not posting that i didnt even send this one to my beta reader i just posted it and hoped for the best lmfao

Summary: Matt and Reader have an argument that feels like it might be relationship-ending after Matt's hectic lifestyle as Daredevil catches up with him.

warnings: ANGST BRO SO MUCH ANGST, matty really just deserves the world, angry matt at the beginning, soft matt and foggy convo, matt doesn't know how to accept love, super soft matt at the end, some religious imagery i guess, happy ending

-

I blew things out of proportion, now you're blue

Put you in jail for something you didn’t do

I pinned your hands behind your back, oh

Thought I had reason to attack, but no

Fighting with a true love is boxing with no gloves

Chemistry 'til it blows up, 'til there’s no us

Why'd I have to break what I love so much?

It's on your face, and I'm to blame, I need to say

The door slammed behind Matt in a fitful rage, and he was so pissed off, so intense in his anger that he wanted to turn around and slam it again, just to lash out a second time. It was so unlike him to be this way, so unlike him to allow the festering wound that was his soul show itself so plainly, but it had been a long night, long year, long life and he was fucking tired.

And you. You. You. You. You’d been caught in the crossfire. 

“Fuck.” Matt breathed, already regretting the argument that he’d started simply because he hadn’t been able to reel the Devil back in after a long night. The tight leash he held on the part of him that he hated, the part of him that you’d never seen because he’d hidden it so deep inside himself every night, was a ghost in his hands. The line between Matthew the person and Daredevil the vigilante had been blurring for months, but tonight was the first time he’d let it slip through the careful facade he’d been constructing around himself. He was a shattered window, ready to break at the slightest bit of pressure. 

The cold sliced into Matt’s skin as he stepped through the doorway at the front of his building, a sobering chill of wind that triggered the memory of your eyes welling with tears. He’d been relentless in his anger, and what for? Because he had a bad night? Because he couldn’t save everyone, and somehow that was your fault? 

Asshole is the word you’re looking for, Matthew.

Matt groaned and pulled his phone out of his pocket, dialing Foggy’s number before he could talk himself out of it.

“It’s three in the morning, Matt.” Foggy said by way of greeting, voice still heavy with sleep. “You’re not somewhere dying are you?”

“Only metaphorically.” Matt replied, shuffling his feet. He lowered himself to sit on the stairs beneath him, huffing as his body settled against the concrete. The metal of the railing dug into his temple as he rested his head against it, an uncomfortable reminder that the only person to blame for this was himself.

“You okay?” Foggy’s tone had shifted from a sleepy annoyance to somewhat concerned. 

Matt closed his eyes. He didn’t deserve the love he received from his friends.

“I’m-” He started, but cut himself off when he realized he had no idea what he was going to say. Was he okay? No, he didn’t think so. 

“You’re kinda freaking me out here, man.”

“I fucked up, Foggy.” He deflated as he admitted it.

“With her?” Foggy pressed.

“With her. With everything.” Matt shrugged, blinking away the tears burning the back of his eyes. Your sudden return to his thoughts felt like whiplash, and he couldn’t catch his breath. “She deserves better than me.”

“Matt,” Foggy chided, and Matt could tell he was shaking his head, “Don’t say that. She loves you.” 

“Maybe not anymore.” Matt knew how ridiculous and juvenile he sounded, but the Matthew-Murdock-party-of-one pity party was in full effect, and he was leaning into the sad corner of his being so aggressively he couldn’t stop himself from saying it.

“She loves you.” Foggy repeated. “I don’t think anything could change that. What happened?”

“I had a bad night and yelled at her. It was stupid and I feel like an ass-”

“An asshole.” Foggy finished, and Matt couldn’t stop the chuckle that followed this observation. “Listen, did you tell her any of this?”

“Not yet.” The longer Matt sat, the more he hated himself for leaving. The words he had shouted echoed in his mind. “She should just leave. I’m never going to be able to give her what she deserves.”

“What about what you deserve, Matt?” Foggy asked, heated in the defense of his very best friend, “You deserve to be loved, too.”

Matt sat with Foggy’s statement for a second, letting the love wash over him for the briefest moment. Is this what it’s like for the kind of people who can easily accept the love of others? His body felt warm and fuzzy, an unfamiliar but comforting sensation that had him rubbing the heel of his hand across his chest.

“I should go apologize and hope to God she’ll take me back.” Matt sighed.

“She will, Matt.” Foggy assured him. “She will.”

Matt returned the phone to his pocket and turned, heading back into the place that held his entire aching heart.

It's so excruciating to see you low

Just wanna lift you up and not let you go

This ultraviolet morning light below

Tells me this love is worth the fight, oh

I lived like an island, punished you with silence

Went off like sirens, just crying

Why'd I have to break what I love so much?

It’s on your face, don't walk away, I need to say

Hey, it's all me, in my head

I'm the one who burned us down

But it's not what I meant

Sorry that I hurt you

When Matt reentered the apartment, it had only been twenty minutes since he’d stormed out, but it had felt like hours. You were in the same place that he’d left you - curled up in a sitting position on the sofa - except now your cheeks were coated with salty tears that permeated the air around you. Matt tasted them on his tongue the second he opened the door, a twinge of pain shooting through his chest as he realized just how bad the situation was. You were so deep in thought, cycling through the words Matt had spat at you, that you hadn’t noticed his arrival.

“Petal?” Matt called softly, alerting you to his presence in the room. You startled, turning to look in his direction. The silence before you responded was deafening and anxiety inducing, something Matt had never handled well. He wrung his hands together and took a step closer to you. Finally, you spoke.

“You came back.”

Not a question, but not really a statement either. A simple observation that left Matt stumbling over his words. 

“I uh…never really left. I was just downstairs.” He scratched the back of his neck. “On the steps out front. I didn’t go far.”

“I thought you weren’t coming back.”

Matt’s lip wobbled as he inhaled sharply and asked, “Do you want me to go?”

He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to that question. He listened to your answer anyway. He would listen to any words you had to offer, even if they were words that might kill him.

“You said some terrible things, Matt.” You sniffled, sighing heavily as another wave of tears coated your cheeks. “You said ‘If you can’t handle this, I don’t think we should be together anymore.’ And the funny thing is, I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be handling.”

“Petal, I-” Matt began, shaking his head.

“No, Matt.” Your voice had suddenly become very firm and very loud, all at once. Matt flinched. “I’m not finished.” You adjusted your body, leaning your head back against the sofa before continuing. “I don’t know who you are anymore. My Matty would never keep things from me or disappear for days at a time or yell at me. The man I fell in love with is missing, and I don’t know what to do to get him back.”

The hold Matt had on his tears was obliterated as you admitted your feelings to him. Warm tears fell down his face, every droplet an admission of guilt. You were right, of course. Matt hadn’t felt like himself in months, and instead of trying to get a grip on himself, he had been leaning into the suit every night, forcing his mind to focus on other things. He always took on the brunt of the pain in any situation - he’d been doing this his entire life - but he had not realized how much of that pain was being transferred to you every time he forgot himself.

“Baby, I’m- I can’t even say how sorry I am.” Matt sank to his knees in front of you, pleading. “You’re right about everything, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I can’t be good enough for you or come home to you after work like a normal boyfriend would and I’m sorry for the things I said. I never wanted to hurt you the way I did. I will never, ever, deserve your love.” He swallowed a sob as he admitted what he thought was the truest thing he’d ever said out loud. “Foggy told me I deserve love but I’ve thought and thought about it and I can’t imagine a world where your love will ever feel like anything but a gift to me.”

You sighed again, sniffling as you lifted your hand to cradle Matt’s wet cheek.

“I know I’m fucking it up. I’m sorry I can’t be more. This is all I have to offer, and I know it’s selfish to ask you to keep loving me but I can’t be without you. You’re all I have.”

“I don’t understand, Matty.” You shook your head, furrowing your brows.

“You’re the only thing that brings me home. And I don’t mean physically. You’re the only reason I can find my way back to myself. You remind me of the love the world is capable of. Not even Foggy can do that for me the way that you do. Can’t you see that you’re it for me? Without you, I am just a man walking hand in hand with the Devil. There is no point without you.”

“Matty.” You sighed, caressing his cheekbones as tears cascaded down his face. 

Matt wasn’t sure what he wanted you to say. That he did deserve love, or maybe that you weren’t going to leave him after tonight was over, or maybe anything besides ‘I don’t love you anymore’. 

“Don’t leave me.” He begged, barely above a whisper, so tired of the war raging in his mind. If there was anything he was capable of doing tonight, it was pleading with you for this. Beyond that, he was useless. “Don’t leave.”

“Will you lay with me?” You asked, and Matt nearly collapsed into your hold. It was not what he was expecting, but he would take it. The inevitable self-hatred and doubt about this moment echoed in the back of his mind, but he was ignoring it for once. All he wanted to do was lay with you, so that’s exactly what he did.

Tell me that you're still mine

Tell me that we'll be just fine

Even when I lose my mind

I need to say

Tell me that it's not my fault

Tell me that I'm all you want

Even when I break your heart

I need to say

I don't wanna do, I don't wanna do this to you (Ooh)

I don't wanna lose, I don't wanna lose this with you (Ooh)

I need to say, hey, it's all me, just don't go

Meet me in the afterglow

Matt was on the verge of tears again, lying next to you in the bed that you had shared with each other for so many nights. He was so afraid of losing this, losing you. He wasn’t entirely sure he would survive if you asked him to leave after this. He wasn’t entirely sure that mindset was healthy, either, but that didn’t stop him from contemplating it. He was here, and you were here, and if he was destined to live in this doubt forever, then at least he would die next to you.

Your tears had long dried up, but the ache deep inside you was palpable and overwhelming and he didn’t know what to do. The hand you had led him here with, the one that you still held, the only thing connecting your body to his was his safety blanket. This was what people called a safe space, he thought. For the first time in a long time, Matt began to silently pray.

He prayed for you, and he prayed for himself, and mostly, he prayed for love. He prayed that the night would last forever, so that he could lay next to you for the remainder of his life. He prayed for forgiveness, and begged for yours. He prayed for the strength it would take if you didn’t grant it to him. Because if you asked him to leave, he would. It would hurt and possibly - no, definitely - kill him, but he’d do it, because you deserved that, at least. The possibilities of the night were endless, and that was the scariest thing to Matt. Anything could happen.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked, lightly squeezing his hand.

“I’m praying.” He murmured, squeezing your hand back.

“About what?”

“About you.” 

“Oh, Matty.” 

The smile on your face, the steady thump of your elevated heart rate, felt like a win. Comfortable silence overtook the room, and you were so still for so long that anyone else might’ve thought you had fallen asleep, but Matt knew better. You were thinking, contemplating every word that had been shouted, pleaded, and begged tonight. All the while, Matt prepared himself for the worst.

“The sun’s coming up.” You murmured.

“Yeah?” It was all he could muster. Everything hurt, and he never wanted this moment to end.

“Yeah.” You swept your fingertips over his cheeks, following the path of the sun as it draped itself across both of your bodies. 

Matt swallowed, opened his mouth to ask the dreaded question, and then closed it and swallowed again. The gentle caress of your fingers felt like a brand in his skin. Finally, in a thick voice he asked for the second time in a matter of hours, “Do you want me to go?”

“Oh, Matty.” You whispered, tears welling in your eyes, and Matt’s heart sank into the ground below him. He thought he could do this, but he couldn’t. He was just supposed to leave what you had built with him? After everything, he was just supposed to count his losses and move on? No fucking way. His breathing had picked up, and he was so focused on his pounding heart that he almost missed the rest of your sentence. “I never wanted you to go. I just wanted you to understand how lonely I’ve been without you. I’m upset with you, but I’ll always love you, and I’ll never be the one asking you to leave.”

Matt stopped breathing for a moment, soaking in the warm relief as it crashed through him. He didn’t have to go, and you loved him. You loved him. You loved him.

“Are you sure?” He forced himself to ask, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do.

You let out a small giggle and pressed your lips to his forehead before responding. “Of course I’m sure, Matty. But it has to change, okay? We can’t do this to each other again.”

Matt could hardly believe the words coming out of your mouth. He would do anything to keep you here, holding him, keeping him safe, loving him. Anything.

“I promise.” He murmured, grabbing at your face to pull it closer to his. “I love you.”

He pressed a million kisses into your face until you let out the melodic laugh that he felt he could get drunk on. He would do anything to hear that sound again, to be the one causing that sound. Anything.

-

Tag List:

@xleiaorgana @mukbee @soft-emo-enby @purple-amaranthe @kokoterainonago666 @blackwidownat2814 @minervadashwood @emiemiemiii @h4rrys @messymissy @mylifeispainandiloveit @mossexe @alina02 @spikedhe4rt @fictional-hooman @thedevilwearsblack @merleisapartygod @legocity2 @violet-19999 @quackson03 @certifiedhunter @shoxji @layazul @dumb-fawkin-bitch @americaarse @lazyxsquirrel @honeysucklepotter @m0nster-fvcker @matthewmurdockswhore @thatgirljayy @hiyabyeyababy @scoliobean @infinityisbright @myguiltypleasures21

@thegirlwiththeeyes1297 @goddesspsyche @mxxnligxt @ladamari68 @dnxgma @evyiione @twsssmlmaa @gpenguin666 @desert-fern @day-dreaming-goddess @ginnysculture @ryebreadsworld @freakinfairykind @blue-03 @alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @deliciousfestsalad @lilyevans1 @22carolina08 @definitelynotsugar @casualchaoticdevil @peachy-flxwr @nashja @xshewayout @blep--bloop @kpopgirlbtssvt

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock angst #matthew murdock #daredevil #daredevil x you #daredevil x reader #daredevil fluff #daredevil angst #charlie cox #nmcu #foggy nelson #marvel #marvel imagine #daredevil imagine #amhrosina

[m4nj1r0s]

Chifuyu Relationship Headcannons

Note: This one is a little short but I have a Ran hc post in my drafts 🤞. Also the timelines don’t really add up since Ryusei is mentioned.

- Has broken your window more than once trying to throw stones at it to try and have a romantic moment like in movies.

- Gets relationship advice from Baji, and actually follows it until you tell him that the advice is really bad.

- Unfortunately, Chifuyu turns to his romance mangas to get advice.

- Giggles in his head like a school girl whenever you give him a kiss on the cheek in the early stages of your relationship. He just doesn’t know how he pulled someone like you.

- Has your day-to-day routine practically memorized even before you guys were dating because he wanted to ‘coincidentally’ meet you (it’s giving marinette from mlb).

- Might actually shed tears of joy if you read romance mangas and novels with him, it’s like a dream come true!

- Gets a little jealous of Baji if he talks too much with you, especially if you guys get along. It conflicts his feelings because he wants his best friend and girlfriend to get along but at the same time Baji is ‘super cool and awesome’ and ‘can charm any woman’.

- You probably tutor Chifuyu and Baji. Well, Chifuyu is just there for fun since he’ll take any chance to spend time with his two favorite people.

- Will actually go FERAL if Ryusei speaks with you and you’re speaking back with him. Drags you away, yells at him, and will definitely initiate a fight until Baji drags them both.

- Also asks Takemichi for relationship advice, but his is actually good because Takemichi asks Hina what to say to Chifuyu.

- Speaking of them, you all go on double dates. Takemichi and Hina and then you and Chifuyu.. plus Baji, but he’s there for food and some fighting probably.

- Definitely bought a copy of your exact perfume to spray around his bedroom for when you come over. He read it makes animals comfortable to smell familiar smells and figured it would work for you too. (He doesn’t see this as insulting).

- WAS A PICK ME BOY WHILST YOU GUYS WERE IN YOUR TALKING STAGE. ONLY WHEN YOU GUYS WERE AT THAT POINT WHERE YOU WEREN’T OFFICIALLY DATING BUT HE WAS COMFORTABLE WITH YOU, I CAN’T STRESS THIS ENOUGHHH

- “I get the feeling you don’t… love me. I know there are better guys around but I just thought I landed the girl of my dreams 🥺🥺”

- Doodles your guys’ initials with a heart around them in every exercise book, even the ones he uses for school.

- Has tried to make you shy by pinning you to a wall but he ended up tripping.

- Didn’t recover from it mentally and he won’t speak to you if you bring it up in front of people

- ESPECIALLY BAJI.

- FaceTimes you right after he wakes up just to tell you “good morning!”

- Refuses to show you any pictures of him whilst he had that god-awful mohawk hairstyle but Baji will show you anyways.

- He says he wants one again to scare you.

- “I kinda want a mohawk, as a new change before I meet your parents. What do you think, babe?”

#m4nj1r0s #tokyo revengers #headcannons #tr #x reader #chifuyu matsuno #chifuyu x reader #chifuyu fluff #baji keisuke #peke j #x y/n #relationship headcanons #general headcanons #chifuyu headcanons #tokyo revengers toman #tokrev chifuyu #tokyo revengers headcanons

[finntheehumaneater]

Hiiiiii! Idk if you’re still taking asks or not but I was hoping you’d do “I’m sick of being useless” and “shit, are you bleeding!?” with Steddie and mainly Steve angst. I thrive on Steve angst lol

And if not that always fine to! Feel free to ignore :)

I did a thing!! Yay!! And I feel like this was kind of more…Wayne & Steve and less Steve/Eddie, but….i hope you like it :)

(all links to writing prompts are in my pinned post, but just know that it might take me a while to write the prompt since I’m a very busy person 🩵)

TW: mentions of blood, needles, and past head-trauma

Steve knew that the blood was dripping down onto the carpet, but he couldn’t bring it in himself to care. He would clean it out when he didn’t feel moments away from blacking out.

He was in the Munson’s trailer. Wayne had given him a spare key after the first time he had dragged himself over here—‘82, after the demogorgon. That was before he had known Eddie lived there with him, back when Eddie went out almost every night and hung out with his friends until early morning. 

He was waiting in the living room while Wayne rifled through the bathroom, trying to find the first aid kit he kept there. His hands were shaking and he couldn’t breathe. Everything hurt. He could hardly feel his face anymore.

And, because his luck was shit, as always—the front door clicked open, letting in the glow from the streetlight drifting over his shoes before it was closed again. He kept looking down, not wanting to face Eddie right now. Not like this. He was going to be met with pity.

But maybe it wasn’t Eddie. Maybe it was the lady that hung out with Wayne to smoke. She came over sometimes, right? What was her name? Clara? She wasn’t much younger than Steve, but Wayne seemed to be fond of her.

“Stevie? Shit, are you bleeding?” A voice whispered, soft and quiet, like Steve was some kind of spooked animal. He crumpled at that, barely holding back a sob, and the guilty feeling got even worse when he heard Wayne call from the bathroom—not that far away since the trailer was small—“hold on, kid, I got it. It’s okay, I’m coming.”

He felt a hand on his shoulder pushing him onto the couch, rough and calloused as it slid over his arm, but it was from age rather than wear, like Eddie’s hands.

Steve’s eyes were squeezed shut, but he could feel Wayne sitting next to him, their knees touching slightly from how he must have been turned. “Gonna need stitches, kid.”

“Stevie—“ he heard Eddie whisper again, panic creeping into his voice. 

He couldn’t have looked that bad, could he? He knew his lip was split, and he probably had a black eye…maybe a cut or two on his face that were deeper than he liked, but…not that bad, right…?

“Not now, Eds. Go wait in the kitchen.”

“Wayne—“

“Eddie—“

“He can stay,” Steve breathed out, opening his eyes. The lights felt too bright now. Everything was blurry. “Please, he can—he can stay.”

Wayne sighed, and he felt someone quickly walk over, a hand immediately wrapped around his too tight, but Steve didn’t comment. He knew Eddie got weird at the sight of blood. Always had—it was hard to believe he hadn’t passed out after what happened with Chrissy and…everything else.

“M’gonna be okay,” Steve whispered, and it was hard to even get the words out with how tight his throat felt. “Don’t worry about me, Eds, M’gonna be alright.”

“I know,” Eddie whispered back, his grip loosening on Steve’s hand. “Wayne’s gonna take care of you, yeah? A-and I will, too. Can stay here until you're better.”

Getting the stitches wasn’t as hard as he thought it would be. His face was mostly numb, but he could still feel the needle going in and out and it made him feel even more light headed. He could see Eddie faintly until Wayne told him to close his eyes again, and the poor boy looked worse than Steve felt.

“Eds,” Steve muttered. “You don’t have to watch.”

“I, uh…” Eddie trailed off, his voice shaking.

“Eddie,” Wayne said quietly.

“Hm?”

“Go and clean up the bathroom from when I was looking’ for the kit. Make sure the shower’s decent so Steve can get in afterwards. Gotta keep the stitches dry for a bit so you’ve gotta help him wash.”

“Yeah, alright,” Eddie breathed, sounding slightly reluctant but happy to excuse himself.

After a few moments of silence, Wayne spoke up again. The couch was slightly uncomfortable at Steve’s back from sitting so long. “He looked faint. And he ain’t even then one gettin’ the damn things. You’re doin’ good so far, son.”

“Thanks,” Steve choked out, breathing in shakily before trying to relax his face for Wayne again. His fingers dug into his thighs.

“I’d say that I’d help wash you so that Eds doesn’t fuck it up,” Wayne continued, and Steve hoped he was almost done with the stitches. “But I don’t think you would like that all that much.”

“I’d be fine,” Steve whispered, nearly going to shake his head in protest before remembering what was happening and staying still. He didn’t want to sound ungrateful for the help, but he did want Eddie to do it. It wasn’t like Eddie hadn’t seen him naked before.

Once the stitches were done, he tried not to touch them, even though he wanted to. He was finally getting some feeling back into his face, and it hurt. 

“You wanna tell me what happened, Steve?” Wayne asked gently, running his hand over Steve’s arm for a moment before pulling away. 

“I don’t…I don’t remember,” and that wasn’t exactly a lie. He remember punching and maybe some crying on his part, but everything else was gone. He really hoped he wasn’t dying. The doctors from his last hospital visit had advised to stay away from fights in case his head got hit. And his head had definitely gotten hit before. He remember the panic right afterward. How everything titled sideways and he fell, scrambling to get up before someone kicked at him. 

“Need help getting to the shower?”

“Hm?”

“The shower, kid,” Wayne asked.

“No, I can walk. Thanks, though.”

Eddie helped him wash off, keeping out from under the spray of water while he sat on the side and scrubbed gently with a washcloth. Steve hated every second of it. But he also didn’t. He didn’t want Eddie to have to do this. He could move his arms perfectly fine, but Wayne had asked Eddie to do this, and he wasn’t going to say no to Wayne. He would never say no to Wayne. But at the same time he liked being taken care of like this. It made him feel sick.

“M’sick of being useless,” he whispered, letting his hand fall back against the wall of he shower. 

“How do you mean?” Eddie whispered back, his hand stopping and coming to rest gently behind Steve’s neck, slipping through his sweat-damp hair. 

“I just—I can do this on my own, you know? But…but I don’t hate this, and…and it makes me feel horrible…”

“Oh, Steve…” Eddie whispered, and Steve opened his eyes, watching the way that Eddie’s eyebrows pressed together, sympathy seeping into his expression.

“It doesn’t make you useless to ask for help, okay? You wanna finish up in here and then go to bed?”

“I’m not staying—“

“Oh, you are,” Eddie insisted. “If you think I’m letting you drive back like this you’re dead-wrong, sweetheart. Plus, I don’t think Wayne will let you leave, anyways. And I could read to you if your head doesn’t hurt too much? I think we could finish the book tonight.”

Steve bit back a smile, nodding slightly. “Yeah, sure.”

Eddie went back to washing him in silence, but it only lasted a moment before he spoke again, his voice more quiet and firm. “You know I love you, right? And I really don’t mind doing this, if that’s what you’re worrying about.”

“I know. I love you too,” And if that didn’t feel so natural to say, Steve didn’t know what did.

“I know,” Eddie whispered, poking him in the side gently in a way that made Steve smile. “Just relax for a bit, okay? Lemme finish up and then I’ll get you dressed.”

Steve forced himself to take a breath, turning to face Eddie a bit more so that he could reach better. He smiled a bit wider so that Eddie knew he really was listening, even though it didn’t look like it. “Okay.”

#Don’t know how I feel about this one but…. #I didn’t have it in me to re-write it again lmao #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie fic #steve x eddie #Finn writes #My writing #My fic #Wayne Munson #Ask fics