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alatusprinz · 1 year

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asking genshin boys "what are we?"

characters : tighnari , cyno , kaedehara kazuha , scaramouche

genre : fluff

scenario : reader asks them "what are we?" when they had automatically assumed you were aware of their feelings towards you

trigger warning : none except everyone here being short, i hope

tighnari

before you even asked the question, tighnari had a bad suspicious feeling about you today

he lightly sighed while looking over some of his leftover paperwork

even during his "office hours", he couldn't help but notice the "sneaky" glances and pretty much everything he's ever known about nervous body language from you

"you ask the most intriguing questions whenever you're fidgeting like that. tell me, what is it?" he couldn't help the sarcastic tone even if he tried

but his half-joking tone helped you relax, tighnari seemed to have talent at naturally calming you down

okay, here goes nothing.

"what are we, tighnari?" you finally managed to ask him

he answered with absolutely no hesitation immediately

"you? a human if my memory serves. as for me, i happen to be a fennec fox hybrid."

"... tighnari..."

stops writing at your tone- that didn't sound like you were joking

you were being serious? no way...

tighnari looked straight into your eyes, expression conflicted

he furrowed his brows and kept eye contact to see if you were pranking him or something

"...you're joking right?" he asked, half hopeful that he wasn't the one jumping into conclusions here

"...no"

he looked speechless, but then he let out a sigh

"enlighten me on what exactly makes you confused on what our relationship is?" he was sure he made it crystal clear

"we... i don't know, i can't tell. that's why i'm asking you" disbelief was written all over his face at your answer

"i held your hand."

"you did."

"i hugged you before."

"yes?"

"...i gave you flowers i grew myself on numerous occasions."

"yes, i'm keeping them as a bookmark like you suggested."

tighnari's scowl deepened, trying his hardest not to look lowkey offended that you were still confused after all that

how could you even not know, everyone knew from the forest rangers crew so why didn't you?

never mind, you clearly needed confirmation

"... i believe i have romantic feelings for you and just until now i was under the impression that you were aware." your eyes widened at tighnari's blunt words

you noticed the pink flush in his cheeks when he finally had to admit

"geez, want me spell it out for you? need a contract or something?" despite his complaint, tighnari felt content with the way your expression showed clear signs of happiness

how could you not fall even deeper for him, when he looked that adorable with rosy cheeks and slightly downturned ears?

approaches you from his desk and sits next to you

places his hand on yours, lightly squeezing them

"well, how about you then? what am i to you?"

cyno ( general mahamatra )

cyno's face remains emotionless most of the times, everyone who ever met him would agree in a heartbeat

he also had this habit of keeping very, very unwavering eye contact on whoever he was talking to

you've heard many of his subordinates mention how scary and intimidating it was to face his stone-cold stare

and to your absolute horror, he looked the same as ever when you nervously asked something that's been on your mind for days and weeks now

"what are we, cyno?"

"..." almost as if frozen, cyno stayed silent and merely stared at you like he did every day

oh no, this was definitely not the reaction you were ready for

his gaze seemed a bit too heavy on you, especially with how his scarlet eyes were emphasized by the comforting darkness of midnight surrounding you

"i mean- what i meant was-" before you could finish your sentence, he blurted out, loud and clear

"are we not already dating?"

a painful silence followed

it was your turn to freeze now

already dating...? but...

"no?" you blurted out before you could control it

your heart dropped at cyno's normally stoic face clearly flashed signs of sadness

"wait no i mean- but you didn't... ask me out" you barely managed to ask

cyno blinked once, then twice

then finally for the first time, you saw the general mahamatra ever avoid your gaze and cough in a bashful manner

he awkwardly scratched his neck and looked away from you

were you imagining things, or does he look... super nervous right now?

your eyes nearly fell out of your socket, he looks so adorable...??

"i... thought you already knew, i apologize."

finally after a while, cyno fixated his gaze on you again and regained his posture

"i like you, (name). i'd like to date you... if you share my feelings."

god, he really is the prettiest boy, isn't he?

kaedehara kazuha

the moment you mentioned that you wanted to talk, kazuha gently holds your hand and stares lovingly with a soft smile on his face

"of course, love."

it wouldn't matter where he was or what he was doing, he'd always make time for you. always.

when he led you to a place where you could have privacy, your heart fluttered at how his hand never left yours

when you two were alone, kazuha turned at you

nods and looks at you with the most adorable look in his eyes

"yes, what is it, love?"

he didn't look... like this with others right?

"kazuha... what are... we?" you finally gained the courage to ask him

not surprised in the slightest at the question and finally connecting the dots as to why you looked so nervous

smiles and looks at you like you brought the moon to him

and to him, you did.

you brought the entire galaxy, staining, painting his world with the most beautiful of all colors he could've never imagined

which is why he feels slightly guilty that he's left you in the dark about his feelings

"what was my nickname for you, i wonder?" he smiled adorably

"...love?"

"yes, dear?"

you felt your cheeks flush at the unexpected answer, kazuha's soft giggle making your heart skip a beat

"i'm sorry for leaving it unclear." kazuha laces his fingers with yours

you stared into his eyes, unable to control the slight flush in your cheeks

kazuha couldn't stop smiling, just how beautiful and lovable were you? <3

with a soft giggle, kazuha placed a fleeting kiss on your hand

then another one on your forehead

"i'm yours as you are mine, love. if you'll have me."

scaramouche ( kunikuzushi )

"kuni... what exactly are we?"

"huh?"

he was sure he misheard that

he must have misheard that, right? tell him he's right and it was just a prank

outright glares at you when you stay quiet, looking at him all expectedly like you wanted an answer

god, stop looking at him like that... you look too cute it makes him feel all weird and warm inside, stop it-

of course you wanted an answer, everything with scara confused you the more you spent time with him

you were positive friends didn't act like... this

... but he also never confessed or anything of the sort

"you're telling me you're..."

realizes that you're serious, his face flushing in embarrassment and frustration

"god, how dense are you?" he sounded so disappointed, the tone of his voice irked you

"hey, you can't blame me for wanting disclosure, it's confusing!"

"how don't you know? you're doing this on purpose, aren't you?"

"what am i supposed to know? you don't need to act all weird and just answer like a normal person would- ouch!! what was that for?"

flicks your forehead damn hard

then, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer to him

you lost balance at his unexpected actions and stumbled into his chest

one arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you in closer to his slender body

you could barely breathe, you confusedly directed your gaze at him

but before you could say anything, scaramouche laced his fingers to yours, holding your hand a little too intimately than you expected

all words died in your throat

smirks at your reaction, holding your hand tightly now

"do you hold other guys' hands like this?"

"what- no!"

"hmm, i wonder why." you could almost hear the smirk from his voice

again, you opened your mouth to say something but was silenced for the second time

"then do you do this with other guys?" his husky voice whispered

grabs the back of your head with his free hand, then leans in

before you knew it, his lips were on yours

it was as though time itself has stopped that moment

you finally eased into his kiss, squeezing his hand back

scaramouche stared at you after pulling away

then smirked way too arrogantly than you'd have liked to see

...like he was proud of himself

deeply satisfied with how baffled and shy you looked, it was even better for him when you turned your gaze away to avoid his violet ones

he grabbed your chin and made you look at him, letting out a low laugh full of satisfaction

"figure out "what we are" yourself now, would you, darling?"

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csuitebitches · 6 months

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Fearless Social Confidence: Strategies to Live Without Fear, Speak Without Insecurity, Beat Social Anxiety, and Stop Caring What Others Think - Patrick King book notes

Socially confident people:

expect to be accepted. When they meet strangers, they expect to make a good impression. They never approach situations thinking, “What if they don’t like me?” Instead they think, “I hope I like them.”

evaluate themselves positively. Socially confident people are encouraging, positive, and accepting of themselves. They give themselves leeway not to be perfect and don’t beat themselves up too harshly when they are not.

feel comfortable around superiors. Socially confident people feel comfortable because they don’t feel threatened, or that their flaws and vulnerabilities will be highlighted by the other person’s qualities.

With a lack of social confidence, you are usually choosing the thought that is cruelest to yourself.

when navy SEALs recognize that they are feeling overwhelmed, they regain control by focusing on their breath—breathing in for four seconds, holding for four seconds, and then out for four seconds, and repeating until you can feel your heart rate slow down and normalize.

Core beliefs:

Steps in a thought diary entry can be arranged in the easy-to-remember A-C-B format—

Activating Event. Note down the event/ situation. This is simply the origin point of your emotional change. It’s whatever caused your emotional status to change from calm to agitation (a memory, a song, etc).

Consequences. In this step you identify the specific emotions and sensations that arose. These could be simple feeling words— “anxious,” “unhappy,” “sickened,” “panicky,” “melancholy,” “confused,” and so forth.

Beliefs. This is where the action begins. How do you link the activating event with the consequences? What unconscious narrative or story about yourself was told to achieve the consequence? (“What was I thinking?” “What was going through my head when this happened?” “What’s wrong with that?”“What does this all mean?” “What does it reveal about me?”)

Now you’ve gotten to the bottom of your situation and figured out what your core beliefs are.

The first step is writing down one of the core beliefs you’ve just uncovered. Ask yourself what experiences you’ve had that prove your core belief wasn’t always true. Generate as many experiences as you can and be very specific about what happened.

Write down the core belief you’re examining. Think of ways that you can put that belief to the test. These are actual tasks that you can perform. Then, write down what you expect or predict will happen after conducting these tasks if your core belief was true. Perform the tasks. Write down what really happened after you completed your task. Compare and contrast your predictions with what actually happened. Finally, document what you learned from the task and come up with a new, more reasonable core belief that goes in line with your discoveries.

Bushman’s results imply that sometimes the best course of action after being provoked to anger is to just sit quietly and let it pass.

There’s a direct link between social anxiety and negativity. A 2016 Australian research study showed that “elevated social anxiety vulnerability is characterized only by facilitated attentional engagement with socially negative information.” Obsessing over negative details—including by constantly talking about one’s problems—only reinforces one’s social fears and does nothing to inspire real confidence in a social setting.

Personalization is the mother of guilt. In the cognitive distortion of personalizing, you feel responsible for events that cannot conceivably be your fault. While it is admirable to take responsibility for your actions, there are things completely out of your control: the subway schedule, other people’s actions, and a million day-to-day factors.

Common cues of overgeneralization are “always” and “never.” When starting a sentence or a thought with “always” or “never,” consider whether you have the experience or evidence to back up the statement.

Other people aren't only what they are showing to the world. Most people put on a good show. But do you really know what might be going on in their private life? Take comfort from the fact that while there will be many people who are better at certain things than you are, there are also most certainly things that you will be better at.

If you are self-conscious and worried that people will judge you if you say something stupid or “off,” there's an easy workaround to that. The best approach is simple preparation. Create answers to predictable questions and conversations. Run that mental videotape in your mind about your past 10, 20, or 30 social conversations. I guarantee they are not all that different from each other.

Figure out the general questions that people will ask and the topics that will come up in normal conversation and be prepared with story-answers. For example, How was your weekend? What are you doing this weekend? How was your day? What do you do for work?

How can we ease ourselves into social confidence little by little?

List the social situations you avoid. Ask yourself what kinds of gatherings or circumstances you steer clear of and write them all down in a list. Your list should include both physical situations—parties, family gatherings, work presentations, and so forth—and personal experiences that you don’t want to face.

Give each situation a SUDS level from 0 to 100.

Plan your goals.

Build your goal stepladder. You’ve planned a goal and have decided to start work. Remember, situational exposure is a bit-by-bit process.

#powerful woman #c suite #ceo aesthetic #personal growth #strong women #productivity #that girl #getting your life together #balance #Book #social #social anxiety #confidence #speaking

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pumpkinologists · 9 months

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Sweet Dreams

Spencer Reid x F!Reader

Summary: Spencer wakes up from a dream and tells you all about it

Warnings: Smut, face sitting, hickies, corny fluff

Notes: The fluff parts of this are actually so corny.

Crossposted on AO3

Enjoy!

It was no secret that Spencer talks in his sleep. He said names, locations, unintelligible words, and the occasional fun fact. You learned a lot about him from what he said in his sleep; he would always tell you about his dreams when he would wake up.

The talking never bothered you. Really, it was oddly comforting, lulling you to sleep when he would murmur things and squeeze you tighter to him.

A whisper of your name was heard throughout the dimly lit and silent room. Being able to tell it was his unconscious mind talking, you opted for a small smile, snuggling into the mattress. It wasn't uncommon for him to say your name. Although the first time he did it, it scared you shitless.

Just as you were about to fall asleep again, you heard a full, strung-together sentence fall out of the warm body next to you. Turning curiously, you listened for anything else. The small night light that was plugged into the wall by Spencer's nightstand illuminated the sleeping man's face. He looked so perfect.

"So beautiful." A murmur left his parted lips, and his eyebrows seemed to quirk up slightly. He spoke your name: "Yes, of course." He seemed to be having a conversation with someone in his dream.

Spencer's body moved, his hands reaching towards you. Your name again. His hand fell on your waist, and a sigh of relief was drawn from him. He weakly tried to pull your body towards him, humming when he was successful. His face pressed into your chest, and his arms hugged you tightly against him.

Unheard words were said lowly into your skin; he seemed to be having a very good dream. Spencer may not seem like it, but he really did enjoy close physical contact, as long as he was comfortable with the person he was engaging in it with. When you first met, he was scared to even hold your hand; now he tries to touch you in any way he can when you're both alone.

Smiling fondly at the memory, you feel Spencer stir against you. "Mm," he whispered your name, his voice awake. You moved a hand up to stroke his hair, reminding him you were there.

He still held onto you; you were almost sure he was pouting to himself about waking up. "I won't be able to fall asleep again," he whined into your neck. You chuckled and scratched his scalp lightly.

"Tell me about your dream." Slowly, you moved your hand from his hair down to his back, rubbing it lightly. You could feel Spencer blush as he nuzzled into you. "It's a little embarrassing," he said, but that didn't stop him from picking up his head and recalling what he had imagined.

"I was in a field," he paused pensively, "A field full of wildflowers; there were mountains in the distance." He started to fidget with the fabric of your shirt.

"It was really peaceful." He smiled softly and said, "I especially liked the part where you showed up." His fingers still fiddled with the hem of your shirt. "You looked so beautiful." A flush came over you at his words. "Did I?" He nodded, a bashful half-smile falling on his lips.

"You’re always beautiful." He was soft with his words; he made eye contact with you, your noses touching. "The most gorgeous human being I’ve ever had the blessing to lay my eyes on."

You're full-on blushing now, the heat carrying throughout your face. He swallowed and opened his mouth to finish his vision. "You were in a white dress. There was a soft breeze." His hand moved to your hip and squeezed gently.

"You looked like an angel. I swear I saw a halo," he said, laughing softly at the thought. "I was running towards you, and just as we were about to touch, I woke up." You could see the frown on his lips even in the dim light. "Well, I’m holding you right now. Is that not good enough?" you teased, kissing the tip of his nose.

He scrunched his nose and pinched the skin underneath your shirt. You gasped and pouted, "Hey!" Spencer only chuckled and stroked the skin he had pinched with his thumb. "I guess the real thing is better." He laughed, rolling his eyes. You frowned and lightly smacked his back.

"Seriously," he was genuine now, his voice gentle. "The real thing really is better." His lips maneuvered over to yours, kissing you softly. His hand that was on your hip moved up to hold your cheek, deepening the kiss. It was still gentle, your lips moving together perfectly.

Spencer caressed your cheek and creased his eyebrows. A noise leaving his throat. That noise set something off in you. You pushed him onto his back, not forcefully, but just enough so that he’d get the memo to move himself. You straddled his lap, not breaking the kiss.

Heavy breaths left both of your noses lingering together. You ran your hands down his chest; he still gripped the sides of your face. The noises still came from him. You broke the kiss, panting for breath. Spencer groaned as you ran your hands down his body, stopping at his lower stomach.

You moved to give his lips a small peck before going to his neck. As you set your lips to kiss gently just behind Spencer’s earlobe, you earned a small whine from the man below you. He squirmed slightly as you continued to plant kisses on his neck.

Felling Spencer’s growing erection against your ass, you grinned into the kisses you trailed down to his chest. Knowing his chest was sensitive, you tenderly sucked and licked his skin. You created red marks that trailed over his chest, knowing that they would soon turn purple.

Spencer was gripping your hips tightly. His face was scrunched up in pleasure, while whines and whimpers fell melodically from his soft lips. He whined your name as you went lower, his hips writhing underneath you, itching to get some sort of friction.

Now working spots into his stomach, you gripped onto his waist, watching his body twist. A particularly loud whine came from Spencer when you sucked into a sensitive spot right under his ribs.

"Shh, I know. I know," you crooned up at him, moving to take one of the hands that had fallen from your hip. He let out a soft plea, squeezing your hand and thrusting his hips upward.

His v-line came next. His prominent pelvic bone and veins are the most sensitive. You purposely avoided those placed first. Kissing around them. Spencer’s was desperate; the hand that held yours was squeezing so tightly that you felt like he’d crush your bones.

Giving him some of the satisfaction he craved, you licked the veins that climbed his pelvic area. He gasped, his eyes flying open at the sensation. "So good." Spencer groaned and turned in your grip. You continued to lap at his skin until you reached the waist pant of his purple boxer briefs.

Just as the hand that still rested on his waist moved to pull down the soft cotton that rested low on his hips, he stopped you. You were confused, removing your mouth from his skin. "Spencer?" you questioned, and he let his panting breath slow down before he spoke.

"Sit on my face. Please."

It was the most desperate thing you had heard him say. Your mouth was agape, and your motions paused. "I— Spencer?" He shook his head, looked deeply into your eyes, and said, "Please. Please, I need to taste you."

You were still taken aback by his sudden request, but you nodded slowly. Moving your hands from his body, you moved off him, taking off your panties and throwing them onto the ground.

Spencer watched the way the soft yellow light illuminated your thighs and lower body. He groaned, his cock somehow growing impossibly harder. "God, you’re so perfect." He rasped, his head falling against the pillow.

You smiled and moved to straddle him just below his face. "Ready?" you asked softly, reaching down and scratching his scalp. He nodded vigorously. His hands came up to grip your hips as you lowered yourself down onto his mouth.

Spencer wasted no time as he started to lap at your folds, the sensation causing you to lose your balance. You placed your hands against the headboard and let out a squeak of surprise when he languidly licked at you.

His hands held your squirming hips in place, completely contradicting the way his own pelvis twisted against nothing. The noises that he made sent vibrations straight through your core. You were making noises yourself, with moans and whimpers filling the room.

The grip you had on the head board intensified, as did the volume of your moans, when Spencer thrust his tongue into your dripping core. The wetness from your pussy was spread all over Spencer’s face. From his nose to his chin, he was covered.

A hand trailed up from your hip to underneath your shirt, gripping your breast. The feeling of his hand fondling you made an impossible amount of wetness gush from your core.

Your hips moved back and forth rhythmically against his face. Your clit hitting his nose perfectly with every movement. He seemed to be enjoying himself; his eyes squeezed shut tightly as he tasted you. His breaths were short, and he was panting. Hips still pushing up into the air.

Spencer was in heaven, and you were his own personal angel.

As your arousal continued to grow tenfold, you felt the impending sensation of your orgasm. Your hips sped up, your moans following close by. Spencer must have noticed the way your pussy clenched around his tongue and your moans became more frequent because he started to help you rock your hips back and forth.

He whined into you. His hand that was under your shirt returned to your hip, helping the other hand push you against him. He was close too; the thought of you making a mess on his face was enough for him to be on the brink of coming undone.

Suddenly, Spencer stopped moving your hips. His mouth just in the right position to suck harshly on your clit. You had no time to process what was going on before you felt the warmth overwhelm you. As you came, you clenched around nothing, your wetness gushing all over Spencer’s face.

"Oh my god," you panted, sliding off of Spencer’s face and flopping unceremoniously beside him on the bed. "You’re so good," you gulped, and turned to see the man beside you panting, his face glistening with your arousal.

Your eyes trailed down his body; there was a dark spot on his boxers, signifying that he came too. "Spencer?" You called out his name, making sure he still had cognitive function. He hummed and looked over at you, his eyelids heavy and his cheeks glowing bright red.

"Did you cum just from that?" you whispered in surprise. He furrowed his eyebrows and nodded. "How could I not?" He turned over and held your hand. His eyes scanned your face before he took it into his hands, kissing you gently.

When he pulled back, his lips lifted into a loving smile. "You’re right. The real thing really is better."

#fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic

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milesmolasses · 10 months

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braid my hair f’ me (miles morales x blk!reader)

— the thoughts have been thunken. I thunked the thoughts

— made em real cute for y’all

— ⚠️: cursing, reader n miles being silly goof balls

the night was peaceful, with sounds of the city blaring outside of your open windows. you found yourself turning to your boyfriend to tell him all the gossip happening within your school, and he was actively listening and engaging with you in conversation. you showed him pictures on instagram of the people you were talking about so he could keep up with names and visuals, and it wasn’t until near the end of your gossiping when you realized miles stopped responding.

it looked like he’d zoned out completely, just looking in front of him with his eyebrows furrowed.

"baby?" you asked, snapping your fingers in his face.

like a wake up call, his head bobbed up to look at you with wide eyes. "hmm?"

"are you ok, think I lost you for a sec," you snorted. miles contorted his face as he shook his head stuttering.

"it’s nothin' I jus- I mean- you think- ugh," miles groaned as his head flew back.

"it’s ok take your time," you teased with a small giggle. if miles was struggling to tell you something this hard, it was probably extremely embarrassing or he did something. you’d hoped it was the latter.

he sighed as he mumbled with his head hung low, "that guy— Tristan— you think his braids would look good on me?"

you looked at him with unbelievably wide eyes and a look on your face that screamed "you’re joking." and it was in that moment you realized; oh my god, miles morales wants to get his hair done.

"y’know, I thought this day would never come," you mumbled looking at the ceiling.

you heard him suck his teeth and you looked back at him to see his back turned looking away from you bashfully. miles had never been bashful before.

it was then when you began to giggle uncontrollably. you leaned into your bed frame from where you were on the floor, and you just couldn’t contain your fit of laughter. once he thought the laughter had settled down, he asked, "yeah y-you done now?"

this only set you into another short-lived fit of laughter. you were laughing so hard and so loud, that miles swore your parents could hear you from downstairs.

soon enough, you were panting and coming down from your high only to face an unamused miles with his back facing you. you crawled over to him and wrapped your arms around his waist from behind.

"you know… I can braid your hair," you chirped. he looked back to see the side your face smooshed into his back with a grin.

after a beat of silence, you heard a soft "hm" from miles.

"that’s not a no," you said as you poked his shoulder. he thought about it for a second, whether or not it was a good idea to let you do this.

for the few months you guys have been dating he wouldn’t let you touch his head, claiming to be tender headed and that the only person allowed to braid his hair was his mother. he said that she had “the touch,” whatever that meant.

"she’s just the only person who’s soft on my head!"

"miles have you ever even gone to anyone besides your mom?" you asked in disbelief.

"…no"

since then, you’ve let it go after much teasing and humiliation towards your boyfriend.

"imma just ask my mom if she’ll braid it—"

"milesss c’monnnn! I swear i’ll get you looking right and I won’t grip too hard. please?" you pleaded. you hooked your finger under his chin to guide his eyes to your pleading one’s. for a second he looked unamused, but then you swore you saw his lip twitch upward.

"ok, fine. I will allow you to braid my hair just this once." baffled were you at this sentence as you pulled away from him.

"ALLOW ME?! baby say it with your chest, you know damn well you WANT me to braid your head," you sassed.

he chucked, "actin’ like you ain’t just beg me to let you braid my hair-"

"ahhhhh that never happened! I am erasing your memory, that never happened. you WANT me to braid your hair," you quickly said as you rubbed his scalp imitating mind control.

miles laughed as he grabbed your hands as he led you to the bathroom with him.

after making miles sit in a chair for 15 minutes under your sink, and running shampoos and conditioners throughout his scalp, it was time to blow dry.

you sat him down in your bedroom near your dresser with all the supplies laid on the table.

miles shifted uncomfortably in his chair and he kept looking back at you plugging in the dryer with worry in his eyes.

"miles, the blow dryer will not blow you away. you have nothing to worry about," your voice dragged. you watched in amusement as he dragged his hand down his face and a deep sigh came from his mouth.

not turning the dryer on just yet, you got to work on parting his hair into fourths, clipping back sections as you went on. finally, it was time for poor miles to face his biggest fear; the blow dryer.

he heard the whirlwind sound as soon as you flipped the switch. he winced once he felt the warm air coming to his scalp, "WAIT!"

"lord have mercy," you said over the blow dryer. you turned it off completely. "what is it miles?"

"w-what about heat protectant?" he stuttered as he puffed out his chest. you sucked your teeth as you walked to your bathroom to find heat protectant. you could hear miles’ soft sigh as you left the room.

walking back with the spray, you sprayed miles head as you told him, "you know the faster we blow dry, the faster all of this will be over right?"

"alright, alright-" he threw his hands up in defense and tilted his head. "-simplemente no tires demasiado fuerte por favor."

you squinted your eyes in thought as you tried to translate in your head, and after a second you understood.

"you have nothing to worry about, I got most of the tangles out of your hair when washing. this should go smoothly."

and smoothly it did… except for the fact that miles couldn’t stop bobbing his head all over the place. you kept having to grab his head to keep it upright with the blow dryer. "miles keep still, jesus!"

"what d’you think i’m tryna do?"

once blow drying was over, you turned miles head up to face you looking down at him from his sitting position. "that wasn’t so bad now was it?"

"hmm nooo," he groaned. you bent down to meet his lips for a small kiss, thanking him for his (very difficult) cooperation.

taking his hair out of all the clips, you got to parting six equal sections of hair to braid. as you parted you made sure to add zig-zag patterns with your comb, just to give his braids a little flavor. as you clipped off the sectioned parts of his hair to start braiding you checked to see if miles was okay to start

"you ready baby?" he said nothing.

"miles?" you asked again. when you heard no response, you walked over to check on him. what you saw was truly a sight to behold—

there was miles, shut eyed and breathing slowed with his mouth slightly opened. "I made him fall asleep," you thought to yourself. quickly, you stumbled over to your bed and found your phone. snapping a picture of him in this state, you giggled as you went to instagram to edit in a pink heart next to him and save it at your new lock screen.

swiftly placing your phone on the dresser along with all your hair supplies, we went back to doing his hair. you opened up some hair grease and gel as you went to work.

"miles," you shook him awake. "miles, baby wake up."

stirring out of the deep slumber you put him in, he stretched his long limbs as he looked around for a second confused.

"finished?" he asked groggily. you noticed his voice was scratchy and deep, still laced with sleep. you turned him around in his chair for him to come face to face with your dresser mirror.

his eyebrows furrowed and his lips formed to make a small "o" shape as he looked at himself in the mirror.

running his hands across the top of his head he exclaimed, “damn mami.”

"eek-! you like them?" you smiled as you bent over his chair to wrap your arms around his neck.

"of course I do, these are clean," he answered. he turned his head to face your cheek as he kissed you.

"ouu lemme take a picture," you said. you grabbed your phone from off the dresser. you unlocked the phone, but before you could open the camera app, miles caught a glimpse of your lock screen.

"um-! when the hell did you take that??"

— i am an avid user of the pink heart emoji

— 🩷

— took me a while to decide whether or not I wanted this to be an e42 or e1610 miles fic 😞

— tbh it could easily be both

— @laylasbunbunny @ulovejayy @all444miles @nagi3seastorm

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genshin-scenarios · 3 months

Text

A Leyline Incident (Wanderer x Reader)

Summary: A leyline mishap has transported you and Wanderer into his memories – aka back to when he was still Kabukimono.

This'll wear off in a few hours, but you don’t know how long you can last when Wanderer’s acting like this.

Established relationship/you’re already together. He’s just pushing your buttons as usual.

Content warnings: Rated teens and up!

Wordcount: 1100+

“Move to the side. Am I just supposed to sit on one inch of this chair?”

“What are you talking about?! I’m about to fall off here!” Your indignant whisper quickly turns into a strangled sound when Wanderer slots himself to your side, pushing his body against you.

There are countless more places he could sit, but of course he chooses the most inconvenient one to stay close to your side. After you’d been found together at the edge of the village, Wanderer had quickly introduced you as a traveler he befriended from his foraging trips.

Considering how even his clothes were transformed into the white and purple garb he used to wear, you were the only oddity in the situation. With a defeated sigh, you played along, letting Wanderer adopt the demeanor of his past self as he loops your elbows together, leading you into Tatarasuna.

But even if he was friendly as Kabukimono, wouldn’t the villagers still find it weird if he’s so attached to you?! Granted, the swordsmiths and workers milling about are fragments from his memories, but they’re still fully capable of interacting like normal.

Katsuragi turns to the both of you, handing Wanderer a bowl of soup. “Just let us know if your friend needs anything else. It wouldn’t do for us to count them out of dinner, after all.”

“Thanks, Katsuragi!” Wanderer switches his tone effortlessly, wearing a smile so innocent that your stomach turns in disbelief. “They’re a little tired, so I’ll show them to the guestroom later.”

The idea of being stuck in a room when Wanderer’s dressed and acting like this is enough to make you stand up, trying to escape despite how dark the sky is. “Actually, I feel fine. So maybe I can help with serving—”

“—But didn’t you say you’ve been traveling all day?” Wanderer interrupts. His brow furrows in worry, raising a spoonful of soup to you. “You should eat and rest. I’m sure the villagers won’t mind!”

“Any friend of Kabukimono’s is a friend of ours.” Katsuragi confirms. “It’s only a night’s stay, after all. If you’d still like to help out, we can discuss it in the morning.”

Worst of all is the expectant look on both of their faces as you sit, frozen, staring at Wanderer’s hand still offering to feed you.

There’s amusement glimmering in his eyes even as he retains that sweet smile. “The grannies are really good at cooking, so you should try some!”

You grit your teeth, mustering all the patience and peace in the world as you lean forward and take a bite. It’s surprisingly good, though that might have to do with Wanderer’s memory of the soup rather than anything you’re actually consuming.

After that, you manage to save your dignity a little by taking the bowl from him and finishing the rest yourself, just so you could excuse yourself and retreat away from the villagers. Wanderer brings you to one of said guestrooms, where you immediately round to berate him.

“Just because this is one of your memories doesn’t mean you can go ahead and—”

“Mess around?” He takes the words right out of your mouth, lips quirked with mirth. Here stands the Wanderer you know. But what you don’t expect is for him to drive the point forward, taking a slow step towards you with every sentence. “But don’t you find it endearing to see me acting like that? Wide-eyed, well-meaning… Willing to do anything for you with a smile?”

“The leyline must’ve dropped you on the head before we woke up here.” You panic, realizing that your back has just hit the wall. He’s too close, and the glint in his eyes spell nothing good for your wellbeing. “Heck, you could even be lying about your old personality, and I wouldn’t have a clue.”

“Hm. Regardless, I’ve gotten you into quite a spot.” Wanderer leans over you, and you think he’s about to kiss you for a second before he simply lingers there, giving you a smirk.

“You know what? We’re done.” You slide down to sit on the ground, trying to avoid his gaze because there’s no way you started leaning in and he had the audacity to tease you. Your deadpan is a giveaway that you’re simply flustered, covering your face with your eyes shut and words muffled. “I don’t know you anymore. Goodbye.”

“Well that’s rather hurtful.” He crouches so you’re at the same height, propping his chin atop his palm. “I was going to let you choose how I’d kiss you.”

You allow yourself to peek at him, curiosity winning over. “…In what way?”

“As in,” Wanderer leans closer, moving his hand to tug at the end of your shirt. “Would you like Kabukimono, lovesick as he asks if he can kiss you?”

He mimics the pose, face tilted just enough so that he’s the one peering up at you. An image of something desperate and hopeful flashes through your mind — wide eyes and pleading for you to melt and say yes.

“Or, maybe you want me to promise I’d never leave your side.” In a cheerful, exhilarating realization that he loved you. Exclaiming it with a laugh bubbling on his lips, knowing this emotion for the first time.

His hands shift to cup your face on both sides. As Wanderer shuts his eyes, they flutter open again with a different weight to his gaze; half-lidded, he’s close enough that your lips are brushing, but doesn’t quite press them into a kiss.

“Fast forward things a little, and it’d be like this.” He traces the shape of your cheekbone. “Maybe I wouldn’t ever want to let you go, and ask for your heart to be mine.”

He’d steal it from your chest, if he really had to. You’d believe it, in the current state he’s emulating – remembering the stories he told you about his past after disaster struck Tatarasuna. When he was lost to a color of the world that struck him cruelly, believing he’d been betrayed once again.

Your hands reach up to take Wanderer’s wrists gently, pulling him out of his stupor with your touch. As his eyes clear, he leans into the kiss you tilt your lips up for, letting you take the lead as he melts into you. It’s soft and sweet — a little reassurance in the way you wrap your arms around his neck, keeping him close even after you part.

“I’ll take any version you give me, though I prefer the usual Wanderer a little more.” You smile, earning a bemused huff.

“Because I’m already yours?” He guesses.

“Because you seem happier.” You correct. “Or at least, that’s what I assume, with your own fanclub at the Akademiya and all.”

“They’re ridiculous.” Wanderer says, gaze softening. “As are you.”

For loving him, he means. But that’s been an affliction you’ve had for a long time now, and you had no intention to stop.

“Maybe another kiss will knock some sense into me?”

“Hah. As if that’s worked before.”

#wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #balladeer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x you #scaramouche x you #genshin x reader #wanderer genshin impact #scaramouche genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin writing #genshin reader insert

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bloodlust-1 · 6 months

Text

-`A Surprise For Two ´-

Halsin x fem Tav — Fluff, Angst

Summary: Tav returns back to Halsin pregnant, tension rises as she remembers Halsin abandoning her, clueless of the child she was unknowingly baring. She needs a safe place to give birth, and she asks him for aid.

T/W: abandonment, angst

Note: this short fic is inspired by this fanart, but a little more angsty.

The once noble adventurer who saved Baldur’s Gate was back to exploring. Halsin had broken it to her that he would not be staying with her in the city. So, what reason did she have to be in the city? It served her no purpose anymore. Traveling with her group made her realize that she loved the outdoors, the unknown, and helping out friends along the way. This was her calling in life.

However…There was a tiny-tiny problem. She was heavily pregnant. By the time Tav was on a new adventure, she realized she was baring a child—Halsin’s child. The idea of Halsin dismissing Tav’s pregnancy is what scared her most. Halsin still didn’t even know she was pregnant. She hadn’t seen him from the day he spoke of a plan that did not include her. That’s what really set her off on another adventure, heartbreak. In her head, trying to forget about Halsin was the best option for her. But that thought became a thing of the past.

Her belly grew and grew over the months of travel, but Tav had to come to a rest stop. She was unable to walk far distances, and her ankles became sore and swollen. Tav needed aid, her baby was due anytime now. In her heart, she knew she needed to show her face back to Halsin. She was dreading it, the thought of being a single mother was more soothing than seeing him again. It hurt her so much when Halsin left. It was like she was just someone to lay in bed with. She was heading back to the grove after so many months. They were good people, but the tension of seeing Halsin was weighing heavy on her heart.

It was just as Tav remembered, tall greenery with trees at every glance. It was beautiful, especially in the spring when all the leaves grew back. Tav held a staff, it helped her keep balance with her big belly weighing her down. She limped into the grove and she could hear the banter of children. It was a sweet melody of laughter, teasing, and singing.

Tav knew the grove was the safest place to give birth. Anxiety gnawed at her as she wondered if she would receive the help she so desperately sought. Her swollen belly served as a constant reminder of the life growing within her, adding an extra layer of vulnerability to her already fragile state. Tav saw the children who were playing, stop and gaze at her. One child in particular ran away as the rest continued to play.

The child ran to the nearest adult, they tugged on his shirt with urgency. It was the arch-Druid himself, Halsin. It was all too odd for a child to seem so concerned around these parts. It set alarms off when Halsin peered down at the worried child.

“There’s a woman! I never seen her before— s-she’s over there! Her belly is this big!” The child stretched out their arms around their stomach, insinuating her pregnancy.

“A woman?” His eyebrows furrowed, and he was confused. There was a small memory in his head that sparked. The memory of Him and Tav, when he promised to wait for her arrival. A little hope clung to this thought. However, it was questionable about what the child was talking about with her stomach.

Halsin patted the child’s head, “I’ll take care of it, little one.” He smiled before walking towards the commotion.

The sound of children’s voices filled the air. And well— there she was. Tav, sitting on the ground with small hands touching her belly. Tav was surrounded by children, she smiled warmly as they gather around her growing belly. With wide eyes and curious minds, the little ones reach out to touch the round, soft skin, gently feeling the small kicks.

“It is you! And you’re—“ he stopped in thought. His tongue stopped his sentence as he finally had a perfect view of her stomach. Tav was heavily pregnant and it was a sight for sore eyes. Halsin always daydreamed about the day he would finally reunite with her, but not like this…his mind started to race in an instant. Whose child was she baring? Astarion’s face popped up in his head, and he despised it.

Tav’s heart sank in her chest. He was just as handsome as she remembered. His broad shoulders, aging like fine wine, and that scar that was so prominent over his eye. She noticed he appeared healthy, there were no more dark circles under his eyes and he was visibly happy. How could he be so happy without her?

"Pregnant. I know, surprise...I was hoping you could help me and my baby have a safe resting spot. They'll be here soon, you know." The children drifted away from her belly as Halsin held out his hand to pull her up from the ground. To her surprise, he brought her body close to his into a hug. One that engulfed her small body into his arms and chest.

"I'm happy to see you, Tav" He gave her a squeeze before letting her go, cautious of her big belly.

Tav felt conflicted. How could he say he missed her, yet she felt so lonely for months without him. A mixture of anger, sadness, and happiness filled her heart but it was all too many emotions at once.

Halsin caught a glimpse of Tav's shaky hands and legs. She was definitely nervous and her body language gave it away immediately. Halsin felt sad and confused, "Shall we uh, find a private place to talk? I'd love to catch up with you."

To her dismay, Halsin scooped her up into his arms, "If you don't mind. You look terribly tired— let me help you."

Tav's face flushed red, but her eyes burned with anger. There was a slight gloss over her eyes as he carried her to a secluded plane, coated with moss, flowers, and soft green blades. Halsin carefully kneeled down, placing Tav gently on the grass. He got himself comfortable next to her, noticing her angry stare, "I know it's been some time since then. I feel like our reactions are different from one another, did I anger you, little love?"

The sun was shining through the trees, illuminating the area with a soft golden light. They were surrounded by tall trees, lush green ferns, and wildflowers in full bloom. The birds were chirping and the wind was gently blowing through the trees. Tav would have enjoyed the peaceful atmosphere, taking in the beauty of the nature around them.

However, she was mad, and he knew it, "Love? If it were my love, I would've never abandoned them. I would've never made them feel half of what you have made me feel. Do you even have a clue of how destroyed I was?" Her eyes glossed even more as she tried to hold back frustrated tears.

"Tav, I had waited for your arrival ever since, I never wanted to hurt you but we knew where my presence was needed. All those children needed me and I can not go against my natural duty to protect them." His voice felt angered and sorrowful all at the same time. Halsin felt horrible to stare at someone he truly cared about, crumbling because of him.

"Halsin, I needed you! More than ever now." Tav clutched her arms around her swollen baby, a tear rolling down her cheek as she angrily wiped it away, "All I am asking of you is to give me and my baby a safe place, only for a little...I will leave with my baby, and we can forget anything that happened between us. I've been heartbroken for long enough." She hated to show him just how much he destroyed her.

"Forget anything happened? I could never do such a task. You don't understand what it is that I've done for my people." Halsin shook his head in disagreement, his face saddened. "And now that you're here, I want to give you that as well. My love for you could never be tarnished no matter how much time passed between us. I wish you knew how heavy my heart is for you. So much so that I haven't yearned for a single soul unless it was yours."

Halsin sighed and placed his hand over her belly, the warmth of his hand comforted her, "Whose child are you carrying, my heart. I won't be mad at you, but I must know...For my own selfish reasons." His heart clenched and he held his breath.

Tav placed her hand over his. He didn't even know he was going to be a dad, and any day now too. She was silent for a moment before her lips could part, "I didn't know until you were far gone...Halsin I don't know how to be a mother. I was so lost and when you left me, I felt my whole world crashing down after I just got done saving it. But it only hurts me more that you're the reason I'm baring a child...I've spent most of my pregnancy alone, Halsin."

Halsin felt his chest clench up, his palms went sweaty and his eyes widened. The timeline made sense, and Tav would never deceive him with such an event. He believed her, but he couldn't believe he was going to be a dad so soon. "I— Tav, why did you not come to me quicker? Send me a letter or pigeon to pass on a message." Halsin moved closer to Tav and hugged her tightly. God's he felt guilty. He never wanted Tav to be alone with his child. He needed to fix this, fast. "You must stay here under my care. I can not fix all that's already happened, but I offer you my love and devotion. I want us, this, our child together."

Tav sunk her head, her eyes burned with the tears rolling down her cheeks continuously. She was terribly insecure about her relationship with Halsin. He left one day and now wants it all with her. It was an extreme jump for Halsin considering how independent he was. However, she needed to trust his word, she had no other choice. She needed his guidance to help her raise this baby they created together.

"Please, no more sad tears...We can start fresh together here, and build our bond. Such wonders of nature have blessed us with a child. This is something we must celebrate, together." He kissed her wet cheek, the softness of his lips pressed against her skin. Then, his lips pressed eagerly against hers. "I've waiting so long to kiss you again. I would want no other woman to give me a child but you. You are an evergreen that lives in my heart. It has grown vines and flowers, it feeds the very depths of my heart, and I loved you for many days, weeks, and months. And here you are. Coming to me with the most welcoming surprise." He placed another gentle kiss on her stomach.

Her sobbing halted to steady sniffles. Her heart raced but Halsin seemingly knew what he was going to do. Thank the gods he was welcoming because she planned for the worst reaction. maybe he truly did love her. Even when he weirdly showed it by leaving. This was a painful memory she needed to push aside for now. All Tav cared about was giving her baby a safe home, and now Halsin as well.

"I'm nervous...I don't know how this baby stuff works. I'm happy you want to be there for me through all this. Please just— don't leave me again."

"How could I? You've given me a love that stretches far more than feelings. A child, nature's ultimate form of love. I will cherish you and our child forever. " He chuckled softly, "I also picked up a few skills with all these kids around now. Even at my vintage, I'm confident we can do this together, my love." He grabbed her body, placing her on his lap as his arms wrapped around her body. Halsin's chin rested on the nape of her neck. Her scent was the same lavender sweetness.

Tav held Halsin closely back, "Halsin, I never questioned your ability to be a father. I was just unsure of our relationship."

"Our fates intertwined together far deeper than we could've ever foretold. The universe gave you to me when I was depressed about the shadow curse. A gift like this must be shared. I would love the grove to welcome the arch-druid's first child."

#bg3 fluff #bg3 tav #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #bg3 halsin #halsin fanfic #halsin x tav #halsin smut #bg3 astarion #astarion fanfic #baldur's gate 3

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orikiys · 7 months

Text

✿ ✿ 〞safe place

✰ pairings: ot8 x fem!reader

✰ genre: romance, comfort, angst with fluffy ending

✰ warnings: reader has long hair, mentions of cursing and just reader having a hard time at the start, mentions of food

✰ word count: 3.6k + words

✿ . . plot

growing up, your parents taught you various things about whom to trust, how to save money and how to cook, all things like that. but there is one thing that still makes you hesitant… don’t worry. they said, don’t worry just take a deep breath and relax yourself, everything will eventually work out and being the obedient child you were, you always listened to them because things do work out.

but then why were you feeling as if you weren’t real? as if everything, every person, every feeling that you ever experienced felt like a scene from some novel? what is this feeling? you couldn’t name it; but you hated every bit of it. you hated how your chest hurts and even after rubbing it several times, there’s still a feeling as if there is a rope that is tied around your neck. a rope that’s strangling you and making you feel more and more anxious. you glance at your phone with a blank face, while your mind was facing a war, there’s still a text from him asking about what you were doing. you haven’t replied to him yet.

with a glance at the clock, you wrap your arms around your plushie tighter and close your eyes, trying to settle down this unknown emotion of restlessness. you try to think of him, think of good memories that you created along with him, you try to think of his smiling face and of his words that never fail to make your heart flutter. you needed to hold back until he comes back home and you return back in his arms.

౨₊ৎ chan

when you and chan first started dating, chan was everything you could ask for. he knew what you needed without you saying it, he knew what you liked, he remembered it and had it written down in his journal. it made you feel loved and secure, the two things that you always longed for in a relationship.

chan never failed to make you feel better, he talked to you and listened to your problems intently, as if trying to read between the lines and trying to figure out what went wrong. but with him away on a tour, it was hard. it was even harder to tell him anything mainly because you didn’t want him to worry when he already had so much on his plate. you never want to burden him with your worries. neither do you like to pitied, so will try you keep your emotions to yourself until he comes back.

but looks like that plan is unsuccessful the moment your phone rings and you see his video call. with a soft grunt, you sit up and set your hair before accepting the call.

there he is, sitting on his chair while wearing his signature black hoodie and a wide smile on his face.

“hey sunshine, how are you doing today?” a sentence from him is all it takes for you to break down and hide your face with your one hand and try to get out of the camera’s frame.

“what’s wrong?” his voice is calm, but you know he’s trying not to show his worry to scare you.

you chuckle, trying to brush it off by saying, “it’s nothing just missed you.” but he knows you very well. he knows you well to figure out something is seriously wrong, because until now you would’ve usually spammed him with texts or photos of what you did.

there’s a silence as he just stares at you through the screen before sighing out loud, “i know i’m pretty far from you right now, but you can tell me what’s bothering you anytime. anytime you want, and i’m serious. i don’t want to force you to say what happened so i’ll just talk about how my day went.”

he begins talking about his day, about what he did and what things reminded him of you and what things made him miss you. there’s a smile on his lips, but there’s worry clouded in his eyes, which you pretend not to see and just nod in amusement as he continues to list the things he did.

an hour later, when the two of you hang up, you receive a text from him. it’s a video of you in a garden sitting on a swing and laughing. it brings back a flood of memories from where it started, and you feel like you’re too distracted by the memories that the feeling you had in you earlier, has resided long back. it never fails to surprise you how he can make you feel the real you. with him, there’s no need to pretend. it’s just him and you. he tries his best yo understand how you feel, and considers your feelings sincerely. it’s his love for you that reassures you to not worry. because things eventually do work out.

౨₊ৎ minho

when minho saw you sitting on the couch half- dazed out he knew something wasn’t right. judging the way that even after being home for fifteen minutes he was just welcomed with a nod, it made him sense that something was very wrong. even after cooking your favourite food, there was no smile on your face and it made his heart burn.

without a single word, he heads upstairs. minutes later a shout from him his heard, telling you to head upstairs. so you do and upon entering you could feel your eyes blur as you look at the little pillow castle he created along with a laptop and a pack of chips.

“it was time for movie night anyways,” he sheepishly utters, while maintaining a casual look even though on the inside he is nervous for your reaction. a small smile from you is all it takes for him to return the smile twice as bright along with a hug. it’s the feeling of a warm embrace. that peculiar look of love on his face. perhaps it is also the way his hands are in your hair. but mostly, it’s his eyes that shine with adoration. those eyes that can speak a thousand words and even without anything communication there is still laughter that could be seen.

“do you feel better now?” his voice is calm and you know he’s trying not to force you from the way his fingers trace patterns on your palm.

“yeah, thank you so much,” you mumble and press a soft kiss on his cheek making him smile at you lovingly.

“do you wanna go out for a walk?” he questions suddenly making you look at him in confusion. he gets up while grabbing your hand. and when you nod, he doesn’t hesitate to drag you along with him while running as fast as he could, making you chuckle at his enthusiasm.

it was 11 in the night, yet he still is as energetic as ever. there’s an evident smile on his face as he swings your hand together with his, while walking down the isolated streets. there’s a silence, one that often gets interrupted because of some vehicle honking in a distance, but at least he’s there with you. right when you needed him.

with a fond look plastered over your face, you watch him talk about his day and about some of his annoying colleagues that managed to make his mood go sour. it’s amusing to see the way he takes one glance at you and changes the subject every five minutes, trying to keep your mood up.

౨₊ৎ changbin

“babe? it’s okay, just let me in?”

how long had it been since he had been knocking on the door using every persuasive writing key points he learned in elementary school to convince you to open up the door, but you were stubborn as ever and refused to even budge it a bit. you don’t exactly remember how you both ended up like this. was it because of it felt anxious to show your emotions fully in front of him? or was it the way you thought that he would think you were a crybaby?

“go away, please.”

you try to keep your voice firm, but it cracks the moment you hear him let out a deep sigh and try to coax you, he knew he can’t leave you alone, especially when you’re having a rough time. so he stays there for a moment, trying to think of something that will make you open up.

you and changbin had been dating for over 4 months now. all these 4 months were getting to know each other better and spending time together and eating and cooking together. it was fun. it truly was. with him, you felt like you could actually crack jokes and laugh as hard as you wanted to because he would never judge you. then why were you hiding your feelings from him?

being the type of person, who doesn’t like to share their problems with anyone else, it felt weird when he started asking you how your days were or if you were eating well. soon you got used to it, but you had no clue what to do when you would break down while he’s with you.

“baby? i don’t know what’s troubling you. is it me? or did anyone say something to you?” he questions softly while you try to muffle your sobs.

he waits for a reply, a sniffle, anything and instead hears the click of the door which makes him sigh in relief. he is quick to wrap you in his embrace and caress your head making your body shake from the sobs.

he stays like that for around five minutes before pulling away and cupping your face. he wipes your tears with his sleeves and looks deeply into your eyes.

“i don’t want you to ever lock yourself like that, okay?” he scolds you, but his soft tone says otherwise.

“you had me worried so much baby, if you’re not feeling well, ever, i repeat ever, just call me.”

though he couldn't see it, a soft smile tugs at your lips as you press a kiss to his furrowed brow. he was your safe place.

౨₊ৎ hyunjin

hyunjin drops your favourite chocolate over your lap, before nestling in beside you. wordlessly he copies your position and curls himself on the couch while staring at you. you don’t look at him. you don’t even try to acknowledge his presence, but you can feel it. the scent of his shampoo after he just came from a shower, it’s so familiar and smells like home which makes you sigh in content. even without doing anything and just by staying by your side he manages to provide you with comfort.

“did you miss me?” he cocks his head playfully while grabbing hold of your hands and manages to catch your attention.

“is that even a question?” you retort back making him chuckle.

it’s almost comical how at ease you feel just by his touch, his presence and his words. if there’s one thing that hyunjin is good at which never fails to amuse you, is the way he tries to act according to your moods.

if you’re happy, he’ll match your vibe and take you out on a late night convenience store date. if you’re angry, he’ll buy you some chocolates and snacks and remain patient for your anger to reside. and if you’re sad ( like today), then he’ll just listen or talk depending on whether you open up first or not. it’s not just the way that he loves being with you, but it’s the way that he puts in the efforts to understand you. to understand what’s wrong rather than acting immaturely. so in this relationship, he was the mature one, though at times he loves being babied as well.

“want to talk about it?” he whispers carefully, while glancing at you through the corner of his eye.

with a nod you delve into a ramble about everything that happened in detail. it doesn’t take long for him to begin adding his comments here and there as well. it makes you feel as if someone does observe you. as if, someone does listen to you.

“sorry, am i boring you too much?” you asked in a small voice, confused as to why he suddenly stopped adding on his thoughts.

“i could never be bored. you know why? it’s because i could literally do nothing and sit here, listening to your voice for hours,” it’s not the first time he’s ever said things like these to you and yet, they never fail to make you speechless.

“i need a cuddle,” he changes the subject swiftly and you laugh, “why are you so cute today?”

“i’m cute everyday,” he replies with a blank face as he turns to glance at you.

“i love you, you know that right?” you say with a wide grin on your face and wrap your arms around his neck, squeezing him to death.

“i love you too, but i won’t allow you to kill me,” he huffs.

and there’s a good thing of being with him and eating your favourite pack of chocolates. it’s the best combination in the world. and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

౨₊ৎ jisung

“… are you okay pretty?”

jisung was busy on his phone, when he heard a sniffle, followed by another before he looked up to see you standing before the kitchen counter, clutching the counter pretty hard and with your shoulders shaking.

there’s no reply from you and he grows even more concerned. quickly making his way next to you, he silently shuffles and stands behind you, with his head resting on the crook of your neck and hands wrapped around your waist.

he has no clue what’s wrong but he hates this. he hates seeing you cry, regardless of what the reason might be. it breaks his heart even more when you hold his hand tightly and sob without looking at him. and he hates this so, so much especially when he sees the way you try to hide your tears from him. the least he could do was to be there for you when you feel low.

“i’ll be fine,” you mutter, trying to reassure him but he doesn’t budge even a bit. he stands there, glued to his spot, and just stares at you in worry. it’s almost as if he can read between the lines. i don’t want to be a burden, don’t waste your time on me. it makes him feel as if he failed. as if he failed to assure you that you could rely on him, he feels so frustrated because he loves you so much. he loves you so much that it he can’t help but cry along with you.

upon hearing his sniffle, it’s you that turns around shocked to see him already looking at you through tears. you chuckle weakly as he kisses your nose tenderly.

“why did you have to cry? no i’m crying too,” he whines and tries to wipe his tears but they keep flowing.

jisung had once made this rule of what’s yours is his too, looks like he took it too seriously. he takes away all your pain, all your sorrow in minutes. and you can’t even believe yourself sometimes, of how lucky you are to have a partner like him.

“you’re so silly,” you huff and wipe his tear.

“we’re so silly.”

he wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer, nudging your forehead with his.

౨₊ৎ felix

“she really said that to you?” he voices out his disbelief, as you continue telling how your friend just said something unacceptable.

“i can’t believe this. baby, you need to confront her about it, okay? whenever you’re ready,” he murmurs while pressing a kiss to the side of your head and staying in that position for over a minute.

“she’s my friend though,” you trail off when he sends you a stern look. “friends or not, she can’t just say things like that to you.”

when it came to felix, the most important thing was respect and care. he believed that caring and respecting others is the best way for bonding. even though some people might beg to differ, it’s his personal opinion. and when it came to you… he gets engulfed in this strange, unfamiliar feeling of the need to protect you and keep you safe.

be it even the least harmful ones like just bumping your hand on the wall, keeping the water warm for your bath since you hated it cold and many things that never failed to make your heart flutter.

“are you hungry by any chance?” he asks, while ruffling your hair slowly before brushing them back to make them untangled and gets up, almost about to head to the kitchen but still patiently waiting for your reply.

“it’s fine,” you send him a small smile, making him nod and disappear into the kitchen. minutes later, he returns back with two bowls of ramen and wordlessly places on in front of you and begins digging in.

“i didn’t see any dishes in the sink,” he muttered while glancing down at his bowl, making you pick up your bowl as well.

you found it different. different in a good way, how just talking things out with him is so easy. you don’t have to lie to him. you don’t have to hide your emotions from him. you’re an open book to him. and so is he to you.

౨₊ৎ seungmin

you just wished that you could disappear, if not for long perhaps at least for a day. the way your head is throbbing after your previous break down session is literally the worst feeling in this world (except when your favourite chocolate runs out of the store).

you squint and look around for your medications, but it’s too far away and you don’t even think you have the energy to even speak. but somebody else is faster. a certain someone who’s been watching you closely since the moment he heard you sniffle.

seungmin walks towards you and bends down before handing you a tablet and a glass of water. you give him a small smile and gulp them down together.

“you’ll feel better soon. do you to head to the bedroom to get some sleep?” he murmurs softly and keeps an arm on your knee out of habit.

“it’s fine, i slept in the afternoon anyways,” you reply, making him nod to himself.

there’s silence for a moment before he leaves the room. you look back up when he returns but with a book in his hands and a knowing smile on his face.

he plops next to you, and makes you rest your head on his lap.

with an arm across your stomach and the other holding the book, he begins reading it to you.

you don’t realize when exactly, but in this moment right now, you could feel as if you were bursting out of happiness. out of love and immense affection for the man named kim seungmin.

౨₊ৎ jeongin

“are you asleep?”

it’s been a few hours since he came back home and there is no wonder that he noticed the drastic change in your mood. he didn’t want to point it out thinking you needed time for yourself, but now it was making him feel guilty. he felt guilt creep up into him for not asking you and making you deal with your problems alone.

“not really,” you whisper back and he nods, the action producing a soft sound from the friction of the pillow. a minute later, you toss and face him. his eyes are fixated on you and there’s a sleepy smile that crawls over his face but it drops in an instant when he remembers about your mood earlier.

sighing softly, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and rests his hand on the nape of your neck. “i’m sorry for not asking you how you were feeling when you were clearly having a hard time.”

his voice sounds so… sad that it breaks your heart. you shake your head twice before telling him, “you just did what you thought was best. and it did help me clear out a bit of my head. just forget it, i’ll forget it too.”

he tucks his arm under your head and pulls you into his chest, “i’m sorry.”

jeongin didn’t know what to do except for comforting you at the moment, words were forming very slowly in his head and your answers were almost convincing which made him annoyed knowing how carelessly you brush away your feelings.

“do you want to talk about it?” he asks with slight hesitation, his voice no louder than a hushed mutter.

when he receives a nod from you, he smiles to himself and lets his eyes fall shut as he listens to you intently.

your voice slowly trailed off and when he looked down to see your eyes shut, he kissed your forehead gently and tucked the blanket around you properly. at least at the end of the day, he didn’t let you be on your own.

PERM TAGLIST: @taeriffic 🗯️ @hello-2-u-from-me 🗯️ @ilychee08 🗯️ @sleepyleeji 🗯️ @spacegirlstuff

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tommysversion · 1 year

Text

That’s My Girl - [ Joel Miller x Reader 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ ]

Anon requested jealous, possessive Joel with a filthy mouth, so here you are! General CW for spice, unsafe sex, Joel with a filthy mouth, & a slightly red flag possessive streak.

Joel slammed the door behind you, expression mutinously annoyed as he crossed his arms and turned to you.

“What the fuck was that back there?” He demanded.

You had to resist the urge to smirk; if you weren’t so annoyed yourself, you’d feel smug about pissing him off. Joel liked to pretend he didn’t give a rat’s ass about you, but it was obvious that you were more than… whatever he thought you were. A quick fuck. Something casual. There was nothing casual about the way he’d grabbed your hand and practically dragged you out of the bar.

“What was what?” You asked sweetly, enjoying the way his eyes darkened.

“You know damn well what.” He glared, “letting that random fucking informant buy you drinks.”

“Maybe I like free booze?” You suggested, innocent. Oh, you knew exactly what you were doing.

“Not enough to let someone like that put their hands on you, surely?”

Your own temper flared. “What’s it to you, Joel? I’m not your goddamn property. Besides, you can’t lecture me on exclusivity when-“

You stopped, still angry, still hurt, by what you had seen. By what had driven you to provoke him, to try and draw out his jealous side in blatant vengeance.

“When what?” He demanded, exasperated. Honestly he had no damn clue what had possibly driven you to act the way you had, flirting with anyone and everyone. You were his, dammit. Nobody else should be able to hold your attention. Nobody else was worthy of it.

You were so angry at the memory, you wanted to cry.

“When I show up at your place looking for you and Tess answers the door wearing your fucking shirt and says you’re busy.” You snapped, glaring at him. “You don’t get to demand I don’t look for attention elsewhere when you’re clearly more than happy to fuck both of us.”

He stared at you. He hadn’t been home at the time, had been at work. He knew which shirt you were referring to, though. It was an old one he’d given her on a laundry day, almost a year ago.

“That… is not what’s happening here.” He said flatly.

“No? You think I’m stupid?” You demanded. Honestly if he wasn’t so worried about fixing this, wasn’t so pissed about you letting that fucking rat touch you, he’d almost find this funny.

“I haven’t been with Tess like that for… Fuck, almost five years.” He shook his head, “that shirt was too small for me, I handed it down on a laundry day when she had nothing clean. And I was at work, by the way.”

You cut your building tirade, mouth open but nothing coming out, feeling monumentally stupid.

“Oh.” You manage, knowing full well how lame you sound.

“Yeah, oh.” He frowned at you, “you know better than to let her rile you up.”

He was already making a note of talking to Tess, though. He’d have a few choice words for her, that was for damn sure. But that wasn’t his focus.

“Now we’ve cleared that up, you wanna tell me again why you were getting so cosy with our good friend the local rat, there?” He backed you right up against the wall, one arm on either side of you, effectively trapping you there.

“I-“ You had absolutely no good answer for him.

“I’m gonna take a guess,” he suggested, “that you thought it would be a good idea to piss me off, by acting like a complete slut.”

“No, I-“

“No? You weren’t? Cause that’s not what it looked like to me, baby.”

You could feel the heat coming from him; in a very short sentence: you’d fucked up. Big time.

“I just-“

“I don’t care what your damn reason was, honestly. But I have a suggestion for you.” He was leaning in close now, mouth so close to yours. You leaned in, wanting so badly to kiss him. He turned his head at the last minute.

“You want to put that mouth to use? Get on your knees and show me.”

Fuck, he was mad. You were only starting to realise just how far you’d pushed him now, but there was no going back, and no hiding the thrill you were getting from it as you dropped to your knees to obey him, hands going to his belt.

“Not making a case for yourself here, are you darlin’?” There was a sort of wry amusement to his voice as you unzipped his jeans, wrapped your hand around his already hard length.

He kept one hand on the wall, the other reaching down to stroke your hair.

“Be a good girl now and I might be less mad.”

You looked up at him, staring into those depthless dark eyes, as you leaned in to lick a slow stripe along his cock, watching his reaction before you took him into your mouth. You didn’t hold back, sucking him eagerly.

“This what you were gonna do to that other bastard? Or am I special?” He was taunting you, he knew deep down you’d never have let anyone else touch you, but fuck, he was angry about it. You were his. His. Nobody else got to touch you. Even thinking about it made him see red.

You, of course, couldn’t answer, mouth otherwise occupied as he started to thrust shallowly into your throat. He groaned softly when you sucked him, swallowing around him. He knew exactly what you were doing, pulled out of your mouth and tapped you sharply on the lips with his cock.

“Not yet. Get up.”

You got up, a little shaky, only to find yourself pinned against the wall, your dress being pushed up around your hips.

“Tell me, is this what you’d let anyone else do to you?”

“N-no,” you admitted, voice shaking with a little fear, a lot of desire.

“No? Are you sure?” His lips grazed your throat, teeth nipping the skin.

“I’m sure…” you were absolutely soaked; you could feel your own wetness drenching your panties as he dragged them aside, wrapped your leg around his waist.

“Good.” He almost growled it, “you’re mine.”

He slid into you in a single, deep, rough thrust, drawing a cry of surprised pleasure from your lips.

“I don’t give a damn if you want to be a whore, as long as it’s only for me.” He kept one hand wrapped around you to steady you, keeping you braced against the wall with his other hand as he fucked you, harder and faster with each deep thrust.

“Fuck-“ you whimpered, tightening your leg around his waist, bringing him in deeper.

“None of that.” He slapped your ass sharply, “talk to me, baby, use your words. Tell me who you belong to.”

He was barely thinking straight himself, driven by a deep and primal feeling of jealousy, rage, and possessiveness. You brought out the best in him, but that was a double edged sword. You could also bring out the worst, when needed.

Luckily, you understood, knew how to play him.

“You, Joel,” you cried out as he hit your sweet spot, again and again, “I’m yours, I promise!”

Your cries faded into incoherence, loud and desperate sounds of pleasure as he brought you closer and closer, finally reaching the apex of your pleasure, tightening around him, soaking every inch of him that was buried inside you.

“That’s goddamn right,” he agreed, pressing a searing kiss to your mouth, “you’re all mine, darlin’, don’t ever forget that.”

He could feel his own pace start to get erratic as he drew closer and closer to his own release, incoherent growls and groans falling from his lips.

“Fuck, darlin’, you feel so fuckin’ good, prettiest damn pussy I ever felt, gonna fill you up so good…” he punctuated each word with a sharp snap of his hips, “gonna make you forget anyone else you ever had… fuck…”

He couldn’t control it any longer, feeling himself throb and ache inside you as he filled you with his release; usually he was so careful about pulling out of you, but well… accidents happen. And if that accident so happened to keep you around and with him? All the better for it.

“Mine, darling. You’re all mine.” He murmured into your ear, holding you close.

You sighed, kissed his throat.

“I’m sorry…” you admitted; you’d pushed him too far, and you knew it.

He gave you a small smirk. “Don’t be sorry, baby. You more than made up for it.” He paused, and then, “just don’t do that shit again.”

You smiled back, rested your forehead against his.

“I won’t. Promise.”

He kissed your lips gently. “That’s my girl.”

#my writing #Joel Miller #Joel Miller smut #Joel Miller x Reader #Joel Miller x You #joel miller fanfiction #tlou smut #Pedro Pascal #tlou fanfiction

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alittlebitofsainz · 10 days

Text

- you swear that you listened -

prompt: “so take me to every party and just talk to your friends.”

pairing: logan sargeant x reader

summary: why did he even bring you to meet his friends if he was going to forget you even existed? featuring an important conversation and a dog at the party

a/n: lyrics from track #65 - worst of you by maisie peters :)

masterlist | the spotify wrapped collection

“babe, what’s up with you? you’ve been quiet all night.”

“yeah, maybe it’s cos you didn’t talk to me for the entire time.” you shot back, both your words and tone harsher than you’d intended. logan was silent after that, and you stole a glance across to him sat in the passenger seat, immediately feeling guilty when you saw the wounded look on his face. you turned your gaze back to the road ahead with a heavy sigh.

it wasn’t really your fault that you were in such a bad mood; it had been your first time meeting a bunch of his childhood friends, stressful enough without the added bonus of you being the designated driver, so you had had to watch everyone slowly getting more and more intoxicated while you nursed the same diet coke for three hours straight. you’d offered to stay sober, but only because logan had emphasised that he hadn’t seen these friends in years, and it would be really nice to catch up with them over a beer, and you don’t really drink that much anyway, so you don’t mind driving, right?

“I don’t mind.” you’d said, because you knew logan had been having a tough season, and you wanted nothing more than to see him enjoying himself with his friends. and you. that had been the key part that was missing. you tried to join in on their conversations, you really did, but they were full of stories from the time before you even knew logan, sentences always seeming to start with “do you remember when…”. and every time you tried to speak up, to input something, the topic would change again, someone speaking over the top of you to remind the group of another funny anecdote from their past. you tried to catch logan’s eye, but to no avail, too wrapped up in old memories and the beer in his hand.

eventually you’d made an excuse about going to find the toilet, and disappeared off into a living room that no one was in. you weren’t even sure whether logan had noticed you were gone; you could still hear the ringing of his laughter drifting through the cracks between the door and the doorframe. at the least the dog came to find you. dogs were always the best thing at parties.

the worst part was that you didn’t know how to handle this. it had never happened before, you weren’t used to it. logan was always so attentive, so loving, so caring. he never failed to tell you, or show you, how much you really meant to him, his light shining through the darkness that had been this rollercoaster of a season. but around his friends, he just seemed different. like he’d forgotten you were even there.

the silence lasted the rest of the drive home. you once risked a glance across to logan, but his head was turning away, chin resting in his hand, his elbow propped against the passenger window, looking out at the world passing by as if he was deep in thought. from this angle, you couldn’t read his expression. you didn’t know if you even wanted to.

“I’m sorry, please, y/n, if I’ve done something wrong…”

logan tried again as you entered his apartment, his words slurred slightly, reminding you that now wasn’t time for this conversation when he was several beers deep and you were stone cold sober.

“really, lo, it’s…” you couldn’t bring yourself to say it’s fine, so you just shook your head instead. “let’s just talk about it in the morning, okay?” you murmured, catching a glimpse of his crestfallen expression as you passed by him, a sight that made your heart ache. you both got ready for bed without speaking again, the tension in the air uncomfortable.

and when morning rolled around and the sun filtering through the curtains woke you from sleep, you found yourself still reluctant to talk about it. you rolled over, turning to face logan, only to find a pair of bright blue eyes staring back at you.

“you were mad at me.”

you bit back a sarcastic good morning to you too. now was not the time.

“what?” you tried feigning ignorance, voice quiet.

“last night, you were mad at me.” logan repeated, and you realised you weren’t getting out of this one. “why? I don’t get it; did you not have a good time?”

you blinked, letting his word settle in your mind, before your brows folded into a soft frown.

“you didn’t even notice?” you murmured, knowing what the answer would be.

“notice what?” logan’s face scrunched up in confusion, searching back through his memories, desperately trying to remember something specific in the haze of what had happened last night. you sighed. it was the answer you’d been expecting, and dreading.

“I left, like, halfway through. went and sat in the living room. alone.” you explained, trying to spell it out for him. logan’s confused expression deepened.

“w- wha- why?” he stuttered, propping himself up on his elbow, “baby, you should’ve told me if you weren’t having a good-“

“I tried to!” you cut him off sharply, tone growing exasperated, “I tried to, but I couldn’t get your attention. not even for two minutes. it felt like I wasn’t even there.”

he opened his mouth to argue, but found nothing to argue back with. now that he thought about it, you were right. he had barely noticed you, once he was surrounded by his friends and stories of old times, and he felt fucking awful about it.

“I’m sorry. oh, fuck, babe, I really am sorry.” he stammered, trying to get all his apologies out at once, words tripping out over his tongue. you both appreciated and hated seeing him so remorseful; you knew you couldn’t just let it slide, or it would only happen again and make you feel worse, but at the same time you knew logan was genuinely sorry.

“it’s okay, lo.” you reached out a hand, taking his in yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. he drew in a soft breath, as if he expected a fight instead of forgiveness, and when his eyes met yours again they were glistening with unshed tears of remorse, “it was an accident, I know you didn’t mean to. everyone makes mistakes, right? we’re learning together.” you continued, a soft smile spreading across your face as you watched him relax slightly, tension leaving his shoulders. he nodded, ducking his head away to try and hide the tear thar had slipped down his cheek.

“right,” he agreed shakily, “I’m still sorry I made you feel forgotten about, really. I promise it won’t happen again.”

“I know.” you replied softly, releasing his hand from yours and instead holding out both your arms as a silent invitation. logan was only too happy to accept, shuffling across the bed towards you and burying his head into the crook of your neck, your arms securing around his back. you felt him take a deep breath into your shoulder, chest rising deeply before falling back down again.

“I really love you, you know that, right?” he murmured, voice muffled as he rested his cheek against your skin. you chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.

“I know. I love you too, Lo.”

a/n: i tried so hard to leave this on a more angsty ending but honestly i just can’t be mean to logan for more than five seconds he deserves happiness even if its just in fictional form

#logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 imagine #f1 fic

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readychilledwine · 8 months

Text

Bound by Fate - Part Two

Part 2 Summary - just a short little filler after Kaylee finally wakes up.

Warnings - slight self harm/rage fit, references to sexual assault, some sexual tension

Word Count - just over 2000

Part One Part Three Part Four Part Five

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

Deep voices caused Kaylee to stir. She was somewhere soft, warm, and there was something strong wrapped around her. "She's waking up," a smooth voice said. "Come on, Kaylee."

Another set of hands brushed her hair and sweat from her forehead. Soft, large, slightly calloused. Rhys, her mind whispered. "We are all right here, honey. You are safe."

Scarred hands ran up and down her back, her arms, her neck. They laced into her hair and scratched her head as if they knew a headache was starting. "She is overwhelmed." Kaylee snuggled further into the source of that voice, of those hands. "We have food downstairs, Kaylee. I know you're hungry. Just open your eyes and we will get you downstairs."

Kaylee finally stirred enough to peek one eye open slowly, keeping the other screwed shut to ensure that this wasn't another cruel joke. "You are safe," Rhys whispered again.

Kaylee opened both of her eyes before beginning to stretch and accidentally tapping a wing behind her. The hand in her hair tightened and Rhysand chuckled lightly. "Sorry."

Rhysand pulled Kaylee's hand to his lips and kissed it gently. "He's fine. There's dresses in the closet. I'm going to leave you two alone. Dinner will be served in 30 minutes."

Kaylee rolled into Azriel's chest, immediately noticing how she could now actually place his scent. Cedar and Night air. He held her silently. Allowing her to process being awake, allowing her to process where she was.

The silence between them was comfortable, despite the numerous questions he had. He remembered her at the King's feet. Pale, broken, lifeless. As if every ounce of joy and youth had been drained from her. He knew what had happened there, but he needed answers on how deeply that emotional scar ran.

He finally broke the silence between them, "When you're ready, I need you to show Rhysand what all happened. We do not have to talk about it, but we need to know who all was involved." Kaylee just nodded against him as a soft pull came from her ribcage. "I also need to know where boundaries are with us now."

She processed that sentence as if it was being drug through mud. "I don't think there can be an us right now, Azriel." The words stung him. The bond aching at the slight rejection. "I don't think I can just hand myself to you after-" he watched as her eyes squeezed shut again, as if blinking hard enough would erase those memories.

Azriel kissed her forehead gently. "I do not want you to hand yourself to me, Kaylee." The soft timber of his voice made her relax significantly. "I want you to heal. I want you to grow. I want to be by your side and in your corner as that happens."

Warm wet tears began to run down her face as she finally looked at Azriel. His hazel eyes were studying her as he wiped the tears from her cheekbones. "I can wait forever, Kaylee. But I can't stay away. All I ask is you do not push me away. If this is as close to intimacy as we ever come again, I can live with this. I can live knowing you are safe in my arms, happy, and healthy. Okay?"

She nodded again, love overfilling her heart. Pulling him closer to her, she just laid in his arms. "I'm sorry," her voice was broken. Her hands and body were beginning to tremble. The weight of what was between them hit her. This constant connection between the two of them hit her. She felt his anger, his sorrow, and his self-loathing. She felt his relief and joy. She felt that string of emotions running through him.

"You NEVER apologize for what that asshole did to you ever again. Do you hear me?" Azriel forced her to look at him. "Nothing that happened was your fault. You owe no one an apology."

"He-"

"Will pay for what he did to you. He will suffer for every second of it." Azriel pulled her in again. "Even if it takes me 900 years, Kaylee. He will suffer."

It was a promise that had Kaylee leaning impossibly further into his body. Silence fell between the two again as his wings wrapped around them and shielded her from the outside world.

Kaylee's stomach interrupted the silence this time. "I'm really hungry." Azriel hid his smile in her hair. "Really really hungry."

Azriel looked down at her again before holding his hand out and grabbing the dress his shadows brought to him. "I'll let you get dressed and then take you downstairs." Azriel pulled himself away from her, painfully slow, and Kaylee's eyed widened. "What?" Kaylee shook her head. "Does me being shirtless bother you, honeybee?"

It did. It bothered her a lot actually. Azriel was beautiful. Muscles sat under tanned skin, dark swirling tattoos covered his arms, chest, and shoulders. "I-" Azriel just smirked as her mouth shut. He approached her slowly and leaned down to her now sitting height. "Hi."

"Hello," he kissed her nose softly. "The bathroom is right there," she watched as his hand motioned towards the open doorway. Her eyes trailed the veins in his arms. He watched as she bit her lip. Studying her reaction to him as if he was someone he had locked in his dungeon. He knew he would have to tell Rhys what he was figuring out very quickly.

They all knew from their experience with the sexually assaulted priestess, and from Rhysand, that victims fell into a few different categories, and he was quickly figuring out Kaylee's. Shame and guilt flooded the bond from her end once the arousal hit. "It's perfectly fine and normal for you to still have wants and urges." Azriel kissed her forehead again before leaving the room to go change.

Cassian was leaned against his bedroom door and pushed off of it. "How is she?" They entered his room. Cassian immediately took a seat on Azriel's bed, wings stretching slightly and his face lightly wincing. "Fucking wings."

"Stop doing that before you hurt them again. She's numb outside. Terrified inside." Cassian nodded. The same feelings he was constantly experiencing from Nesta minus the anger. "She likes my arms," Azriel shrugged at Cassian.

Cassian laughed loudly. "You are attractive, Azzie." Azriel felt his face heating up, only furthering Cassian's laughter. "Is it okay if I go say hello to her?"

Azriel nodded and watched as Cassian left the room. It was then he allowed the absolute rage he felt to come forward. He was staring at himself in the mirror, buttoning the front of his shirt up, and without even knowing what was happening, his fist collided with the glass surface shattering it into thousands of tiny pieces.

He threw a few things to the ground, rage spiraling in him for longer than he was proud to admit. Hands found his shoulders and spun him into a tight hug. He breathed deeply, clinging to the soft jacket and scent of citrus and sea as Rhysand used that one spot in his shields to enter his mind and calm him.

"It's okay, Az." Rhys felt Azriel begin sobbing into his shirt. "Everything will be okay. She's in the dinning room with Cassian. It's just the four of us tonight. She's smiling, she's laughing at his shitty jokes. She's okay right now."

Azriel nodded, refusing to drop his hold on Rhys. "I want to kill him."

Rhysand understood. He wanted the King to suffer as well. He wanted him to suffer as payment for the years Rhys spent locked in Amarantha's bed, for the torture Feyre went through at his general's hands.

He wanted to kill him after he allowed his brothers to bleed and almost took them both from him. He wanted the king to suffer for every single moment or fear, pain, and devastation the Archeron sisters had been through.

He wanted to kill him for the nightmares that Rhys had watched plague Kaylee. The acts of cruelty forced upon a mortal girl barely entering her adulthood. He wanted his head on a spike, delivered to her by Azriel after the Spymaster had stripped the King of every shred of hope the way he had Rhysand's poor little sister.

"We will, Az. We will skin him alive if that's what you need. Right now, though, Kaylee is taking a big step her sisters have not yet, and she needs support. She needs you." Rhys paused to heal Azriel's hands, the House having already picked up and repaired the rest. "Let's go eat. There's brownies. The ones Cerridwen makes with the salted caramel swirled in it. Kaylee might eat all of them before you get there if you don't hurry." Azriel pulled away. His face fell as he took in Rhysand's serious features. "Her sweet tooth puts yours and Cassian's to shame, brother."

Azriel instantly moved out of the room, yelling down the stairs as he stalked towards them. "Kaylee, I swear on the Mother, if you eat all of those brownies we will fight."

Cassian's loud laughter filled the house immediately, mixing with one Rhysand and Azriel could only describe as soft. It felt like rain falling on the roof of the House. Like a gentle breeze on a hot day. Rhysand tapped his shoulder, and they looked toward the windows lining the room.

Countless animals scurried, birds flapped their wings happily, soaring carelessly in celebration. Rhys felt his jaw tighten and Azriel felt his stomach drop.

Her laughter was the final confirmation that the sudden increase in wildlife around the Night Court had to do with Kaylee. They took their seats calmly as Kaylee and Cassian continued to giggle.

Azriel watched as Rhysand looked over Kaylee. She looked beautiful in the pretty off the shoulder cotton dress, her hair braided by Cass. But power that continued to beat off of her, echoing through the halls that had Rhysand's interest and attention.

He finally said into Azriel's mind, She has powers over nature and animals. We need to be careful. If she can summon little things unknowingly with just her laughter, Gods know what she could bring with practice.

Azriel's jaw twitched. There were countless possible answers for what she could be. Amren had been searching for days now, only finding more questions. Questions they'd only be able to answer by using Kaylee's powers. He looked over at Kaylee. Her smile was beaming as she laughed at whatever Cassian just said as he pushed more food on her plate. Rhys, we have no clue what she actually-

I know. Rhys interrupted the thought. His own cut off as Kaylee reached for Azriel's hand and held it. It was a subtle movement caused by the bond. She had felt Azriel's need for comfort and offered it to him instantly. We just have to be careful.

Taglist:

@impossibelle

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #azriel fic #multi part fic #azriel shadowsinger

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miris-secret-files · 8 months

Note

can i get a loid x fem reader hc where he becomes attracted with reader after interrogating her once while she was tied up? he ends up stalking reader and the two end up going at it. ty!

An Increasing Obsession || Loid Forger x fem!reader

A/n : Hello my dear 😎 now thank you a lot for this because that was so fun to write ! And so interesting because I don't think I ever wrote something like this 😌🔥

Warnings : Dark content, obsession, stalking, voyeurism, masturbation, possessiveness, jealousy, mention of breeding, 18+ READERS ONLY and wrap it before you tap it

Masterlist ⚜

I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it

Word count : 1026

It had started in a way that was quite usual for him. Indeed, it was not unusual for him, in the course of an investigation, to question or even kidnap a person who seemed key to his mission. In this case, he thought he was dealing with the author of the plot

So it was in all normality that Agent Loid Forger had tied you to a chair, so that he could interrogate you on all the grey areas of the investigation

Everything had been pretty well executed. In the beginning, he showed no mercy and was extremely rigorous. He didn't hesitate to raise his voice or threaten you

Unfortunately, the interrogation had come to nothing, as it seemed you had literally nothing to do with anything that was currently going on in Berlint

However, something rather unusual followed this usual scene, which was already a week old. Loid couldn't stop thinking about you. It was the first time such a thing had happened to him, and yet he decided to let his impulses carry him along

At first, he just felt the need to protect you now that he'd involved you - albeit from a distance - in this affair

He was using his impression to gather in his head all the information he had about you. He needed to know that you were safe and sound at the end of the day

That's how he gradually found himself in front of your house, then at your window - despite the height of the building - every evening to check on you.

But very soon, his obsession with your safety extended to other areas

First he wanted to make sure that no one was unpleasant or threatening to you in the course of your work. Then he started to follow you even when you left work, he couldn't help thinking that such a beautiful woman would be bothered in public transport or on the street. He wanted to be the only "stranger" who could talk to you. No. He wanted to be the only man who could talk to you

His - more or less very - close surveillance ended up making him late for some of his missions or tasks that he absolutely had to do. He did them at night, when he was sure you were safe and sound in bed. During the day, when he was "busy", it was Franky who looked after Anya, who ended up seeing the man with the afro more than her father

For his part, Loid started gathering information about you. Much more than he had in the WISE files or in his memory. First of all, he was going to write it all down in a notebook. He'd draw a timetable, add your favorite foods, the clothes you wore depending on the weather or your day, your friends, your doctor's appointments, your going-out habits and so on...

In 2 weeks, 1 month, he had already filled at least two binders, adding photos he'd taken of you without you knowing and extracts of sentences he'd heard you utter

He knew he couldn't stay in the dark and felt the need to talk to you again. So he went undercover. It worked well, but he soon dropped the idea when he became jealous of the idea of you talking to him when he was in costume, because it was as if you were talking to someone else. He wanted you to talk to him and him alone

And then by following you like this, he witnessed two or three things that should have remained private. Like you in the shower, you doing yourself good or even you watching at porn…

He began to long, every time he came to see you, to hear you moan. In time, he said goodbye to his inhibitions. When he felt his dick swell in his pants, he'd lead his hand over its bulge to gently palm himself

But he got tired of feeling his touch through his clothes. So he ended up freeing his erect member from the confines of his pants. Once he even ejaculated on your windowsill as if marking his territory

But his cock had a mind of its own, because even in perfectly normal moments when you were typing on your computer in the office or drinking a coffee, it managed to get impossibly hard and needy. His underwear often had a little pre-cum stain when he changed at night

He needed to see you now, feel you, touch you, he was a man with needs after all. And so he did. He gave you an appointment on the pretext of compensating you for last time's trouble. But you refused, saying it was fine. He insisted on coming for tea, and you finally gave in. After all, you thought he was quite good-looking, so why not ?

But it literally didn't go as planned for you. And exactly as planned for Loid

After a little taste, you ended up pinned on your back while he was railing your tight pussy

His hands clutched your arms possessively, as if you were about to disappear. This was bound to leave its mark tomorrow. But you didn't care, the pleasure he was giving you at that moment was nothing in comparison

His hand was pressed against your mouth to prevent the slightest moan from coming out, as if someone else had been in his apartment

However, one thing that didn't seem to bother him was the creaking of the couch and the sound of his thrusts as his cock sank deeper and deeper into your warm depths

Now that he had you on top of him, just for him, he wasn't going to let you slip away so easily - maybe that's what you wanted too

When he felt his orgasm building up inside him, he was careful not to tell you. He'd planned everything, starting with not wearing a condom. He ends up cumming deep inside you. Depositing his seed where it can grow, so your life will always be linked to his

That's how Anya got a little sibling

#spy x family #spy x family imagine #spy x family smut #spy x family dark content #loid forger #loid forger imagine #loid forger smut #loid forger x reader #loid forger x reader smut #loid forger dark content #request #dark content #smut #miri's-files

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sapphicmsmarvel · 2 months

Text

feysand: getting together

feyre and rhysand discover the beauty of triad-bonds. no smut, all fluff, a sprinkle of angst.

buckle in we got a long ride (3K but hey this is long for me)

- It was interesting how you three got together.

- Of course Rhysand initially thought that he and Feyre got together first out of the three of you.

- No. You and Feyre lost your virginities together, and had your first kisses together.

- She calls you her first love, always has.

-Rhysand has always found you interesting, you were an angel compared to Nesta and Elain. When Feyre had come back to the mortal lands, you were the only one to look at her with relief. He could practically taste it as you brought her into your arms and cried into her hair.

“Oh, my love. Whose ass am I kicking?”

He didn’t miss the nickname, nor the way Feyre glowed after you called her that. Or how you never left her side.

It was the first time he had heard Feyre giggle.

So he knew right then and there he was going to protect you no matter what. That opinion was solidified when you welcomed them in with open arms, no questions. Then, you snapped at Nesta on their behalf.

He remembers when he asked you why you let them in so easily. You had shrugged and said, “Feyre trusts you. I trust you.”

It was…interesting to say the least. If he wasn’t so smitten with Feyre he’ll admit that he could fall for you.

-One night, after the war, after Cassian and Nestas' mating ceremony and baby Nyx’s birth; the two of them laid in bed with the babe cuddled into Feyre’s chest. He asked the question he had been dying to ask. “Were you and Y/N ever….?”

She looked at him as if she was nervous, “yes.” She whispered, her voice small. “Is that a problem?”

“No!” Rhysand whispered fervently. Quietly enough to not wake Nyx, but loud enough that it showed how much he meant it. “I’ve always had a feeling.”

She sighed, tears brimming her eyes, “gods these stupid hormones.”

He wiped her tears. “I’m not mad.”

“I know. But…” she shook her head. “It’s really scary.”

“We don’t have to talk about it.”

“No, I want to. But I also want to show memories, so you can….understand why I don’t ever want her to leave my life.”

“I mean, I don’t know her nearly as well, yet I don’t want her to leave my life either. She’s….” He didn’t know how to finish that sentence, and if Feyre didn’t feel the exact same way, she might’ve nailed his dick to the wall.

“Yeah.” She sighed. “She has a way of captivating people.”

He felt her brush against his shields, and he opened up to her.

“We met when we were five years old. Around age six, I declared I was going to marry her. Everyone laughed at me, but when I told her that she just smiled and said, ‘I want to marry you too’. Of course, we were six years old, we didn’t know any better. All throughout our childhood we shared a bond, I thought my entire life she was my soulmate.”

As Feyre spoke, Rhysand saw her weave the tale of you two.

“Then, I fell for Tamlin, and then you. I wouldn’t trade you for anyone. But she’s always stayed in my heart. When we went back to the village to see my sisters, I was more nervous to see her. Nesta and Elain rejected me my entire life, she was the one person that never did. I don't know what I would’ve done if she looked at me like that. Like I was a monster.”

He then felt the happiness that Feyre felt that day when you took her into your arms. He could feel the tears that hit Feyres neck as you cried. Your perfume seemed to have a mind of its own and weave around her. He was in Feyre’s head, he wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to leave this embrace.

As the night went on, she shared more memories of the two of you. He could feel his heart glowing as he saw you two laugh and grow together.

- When Feyre was gone, you had found him in the backyard of the townhouse. He was drinking a glass of fae wine. You sat down next to him.

“You know Feyre would call me a sap for being worried about her.” You started.

He could almost laugh at that. It fits. “She’d also probably hit you.”

“Oh yeah, maybe with her shoe?” He whipped his head to you.

“She tells me everything, Rhysand.” You quirked an eyebrow. “Everything. Which is why I’m not storming into the spring court. I know what she needs to do.”

“What?”

“She told me about it. When it was happening.” You said. “When that bastard brought us in, she spoke in my head. Told me about it and that I needed to trust you guys. So I did.” “I’m sorry, that you three got brought into this.”

You shrugged, “you would’ve seen me around anyway. Fey and I can’t stay away from each other. At least this way our friendship will last longer.”

He huffed a laugh, amazed at your positivity. “I’m surprised you’re this positive about it.”

You shrugged, “I just got her back, I’m not losing her again.”

“Yeah. I can relate to that.” He said quietly.

- After that night, he looked after you more. You helped out in the kitchen, you cleaned too even though you were requested not to. You can’t just sit around. You even talked to Rhysand about getting a job.

- You two also hung out together, you either talked or just sat quietly. He found that you were one of those people that made it extremely easy to talk to you about anything. He felt safe with you immediately, which should’ve rang off more warning bells than it did.

- You were accepting this life, because rejecting it would just result in a big spiral that you refused to go down. You’ve been down a depression rut before, you know when the signs are coming so you made yourself useful around the townhouse.

- After Feyre came back from the Spring Court; you welcomed her again with open arms. Held her while her own sisters turned her away.

Nesta had shoved you away because to her it seemed you were taking Feyre’s side. You weren’t. You loved all of them so much, you just wanted a bit of normalcy even though you knew it would never be normal again.

Him, Feyre and the entire Inner Circle heard that screaming match between you and Nesta.

“And you’re acting like everything’s fine!”

“If I do not act, I will fall apart. This is our lives now. It sucks, the change fucking sucks but you know what could suck more? Feyre being dead. I know you like to act all cold and heartless because it’s some fucking defense mechanism-“

“Do not psychoanalyze me Y/N.”

“My defense mechanism is trying to make the most out of things! I’m sorry I'm not like you Nesta; I always wish I would be. It would be a lot less painful than feeling every-fucking-thing.”

Nesta was silent and you continued. “I love you, I would do anything to protect you, to help you. But I cannot be pulled between the three of you.”

“So you’re choosing Feyre? Acting like this is normal?”

“I am choosing me.” You said. “I am choosing to deal with things. This is my life now and I will be damned if I waste one more second on hating myself ever again.”

Nesta had left the room, storming past the inner circle and walking out. Feyre quickly ran upstairs, her mate hot on her trail. Everyone else remained downstairs in case you didn’t want an audience. Hell, Cassian tried to pull Rhysand away from checking on you. But Rhysand had shrugged him off.

You’d grown on Rhys quite a bit.

When they got upstairs, Feyre crept in, “Sometimes.” You breathed, “I want to punch that bitch in the face.”

“Y/N-” Feyre started.

“I love her, so much, Fey. But my Gods-” You choked out. “I am just trying to keep it all together.”

“I know.” Feyre nodded, “that’s what you do. You make sure we’re all okay, but you don’t prioritize yourself. That’s what you’ve always done, but please do not put us before you this time.” Feyre’s voice was wobbly as she turned you into her shoulder.

That’s where you broke down, and Rhysand made himself scarce. But not before seeing that look in his mates eyes. The same look she had when she found him during his nightmare.

The face of someone watching the love of their life break down.

-Eventually things between you and Nesta got better, “they always do” you had reassured Rhysand when he was talking to you about it. Feyre even agreed, “things always work out with Y/N. She doesn’t let stuff be unsaid.”

- That’s why when he started fumbling around you like a schoolgirl, he realized pretty quickly what was going on. He knew that if you got a whiff about it, it would be endless misery. Not only would he lose Feyre, his entire family would turn on him. He knew what he was feeling too. It was the same thing he felt about Feyre when he first met her, intrigue. And then, it became so much more.

The mating bond was beginning to snap. But a trio bond? Cause he still very much was bonded to Feyre. He had never heard of a trio bond in his particular area of the world. He knew couples took on consorts or occasional thirds. He even joked about that with Fey.

Hell, this entire inner turmoil he’s had to keep from shouting down the bond. He wants to talk to her because she’s his best friend but how do you tell your wife you think you’re also fated to be with her best friend?

So he began countless research methods. Just wondering if it was a thing at all. Or if they were about to rewrite history. However, he found that while it wasn’t common, it did happen. So, he began a folder compiling research, putting things together to show Feyre everything he’s found.

- Pretty soon he was able to grow a pair and tell her. He walked into their home, first he checked on his beloved son to see him sleeping in his crib. Then found Feyre in their bedroom. He walked up to Feyre too, ready to confess, when she looked at him extremely nervous. “I wanna try something.” She started. “I…I love you. So fucking much Rhys. But….I was wondering if we could add Y/N to the mix. I’ve felt this pull and I can’t explain it. And it’s really scaring me right now.”

He felt like he was going to collapse. He then realized he didn’t say anything when Feyre started crying, “please say something.”

“I…I’ve felt the pull too.” He held out the folder, “that’s actually what I want to talk to you about.”

So they stayed up quite late, going over the logistics, how they still felt about each other (spoiler: disgustingly in love still), and how they would feel adding you.

- They wanted you more than anything.

- So, despite Feyre telling Rhysand “no my love, she’s not going to like subtle ways here. She needs direct.” He still went subtle.

- She just let him do whatever. Even though she knew damn well you don’t like gray areas, you need point blank black and white.

- She knew not intervening sooner would bite her in the ass, especially when you stormed into the art studio fuming. But she did enjoy the beautiful blush on your cheeks. She also found your angry eyes disgustingly attractive like she always has.

You threw your bag over in a chair. “You need to tell your husband to stop flirting with me.” You hissed to her.

Feyre raised a brow, “tell him yourself.”

You looked shocked. Feyre quickly realized that this wasn’t the time for a blunt best friend role. Especially when she knew her husband had feelings for her best friend. “Fey! You can’t be okay with this!”

She sighed, “can you just stay here, please? I’m going to get him here and we’re going to get this figured out.”

You sighed and waited. When Rhysand came strolling in all breezy, he froze like he was terrified. “Uh, hello my two favorite beautiful ladies-”

“See!” You yelled. “He doesn’t stop.”

“And he’s not going to.” Feyre sighed, “we have something to talk to you about.”

She was glad she could read your face so well after all these years still. Let’s just hope there were more years of friendship, and possibly more.

She also didn't know how to be around the bush with you. “You know the mating bond?”

You nodded, so she continued. “Since a few months ago, both Rhys and I-” she looked at her husband. “We’ve felt…a pull to you.”

You just stared. Rhysand continued. “The pull is the beginning of the mating bond.” Then he noticed that you weren’t reacting.

“Why aren’t you surprised?” Rhysand asked.

“She already knows.” Feyre said.

You said nothing, and Feyre continued. “You knew and didn’t say anything?”

“You didn’t say anything for a few months.” You said weakly. “When did you know?”

“The second I came out of that cauldron. I felt it then.”

Rhysand felt his own heart shatter, Feyre could feel her own shatter then as well. You waited years. Rhysand didn’t even wait that long knowing that it was Feyre. He waited a good six months but not years. Feyre didn’t wait at all, she jumped his bones.

Feyre jumped back, shocked. “You knew for years? Why didn’t you-”

“What could I have said, Fey?!” You yelled. “That I’m 90 percent sure that I’m meant to be with you and your husband? Doesn’t help the fact that-” You cut yourself off, you were bordering on hysterics.

“The fact that what?” Rhysand said softly. “You two make it horrifically easy to fall in love with you.” You said, your tears finally cresting over your waterline and flowing down your cheeks. “I tried. I tried not to. Because I didn’t know if the cauldron was just cruel and gave me two mates I could never have. I knew it was possible for people to reject their mates so I accepted I was destined for that.”

You sniffed, “my gods, why don’t you just put me out of my misery and reject it right now. I’ll leave Velaris, I’ll leave you alone.”

Feyre was crying. “You don’t deserve to be rejected.” “Well, you wouldn't think that if you knew the thoughts I had about your literal husband but okay Fey.”

“If you were a random woman, that’s when I’d care. But you’re you-”

“And your best friend. It’s a cliche ass trope.” You wiped your face.

“And you are my mate!” She shouted. “You are destined to be mine, to be Rhysand’s, to be ours!”

You looked at Rhysand, “you’ve been silent. What are you thinking?”

“How lucky I am to have two beautiful women be mine. If you’ll have me.” He said, his voice was quiet and hoarse, as if he was terrified that if he spoke too loud, he’d spook you and you’d run.

You let out a broken sob, Feyre and Rhysand ran to hold you.

“We would be honored if you became our mate.” Feyre said, her forehead pressed against your temple.

“When I first met you,” Rhys began, his chin resting on your head. His hands clasped around Feyre’s back on your left side, he was on your right. “I saw how happy you made Feyre. But then when she was gone, you kept me from losing it on…well everyone.” He admitted.

“We had only had a few conversations.” You said.

“Shhh, I’m confessing.” He teased, then he heard you snort a laugh. “When Feyre and you first reunited. I saw how happy she was, how she felt so safe. I vowed right then that I would protect you to keep that smile on her face. But once I got to know you, I realized I would protect you in general. You made me feel so at ease. I felt the peace that I knew Feyre must feel when she talks to you. You are strong, you are sweet, you are the most welcoming person I have met in my lifetime. You had every right to react poorly to us, instead, you took us in simply because we were with Feyre. You never looked at us like you were superior, or that we were your superior. Just equals sharing a space.” He held you two tighter.

“You could’ve ignored us completely, or been rude. But instead, you unabashedly asked Azriel and Cassian to help you cook because if we were going to stay we had to do work.” His shoulders shook with restrained laughter. He heard Feyre giggling and even you let out a wet laugh. “I realized you were a gem too many times to count. Especially when I fell asleep on the couch and not only did I have my guard up, but you covered me with a blanket so I wouldn’t get cold. Most would’ve ignored me. Then at the meeting with the other High Lords, you snapped at Tamlin and told him to ‘shut the fuck up’ and to ‘fuck off and die’. It was a magnificent thing to witness. You didn't care that he could’ve killed you with a single strike. Which, not going to lie, kind of worries me for your health in the future.”

All three of you laughed at that.

“You say we are easy to fall in love with, but you have no idea how magnetic you are.” He said. “I always wanted you and Feyre closest to me, at first I thought it was because you were her best friend, and you were becoming mine. But then…then I started to fall for you. Before I felt the tug. I fell for you because of this kindness, this bravery, the strength. It’s everything to me and if you give me the chance I will spend the rest of our lives proving how I am worthy of you and Feyre. The mating bond was just a bonus.”

You sniffled again, but he felt your arms pull from where they were wrapped around your own waist. And spoke.

“I have a condition.”

“Name it.” Feyre whispered .

“I get to have sex with you both at separate times and together. Basically, we fuck alone and together. I’m not doing this territorial fae bullshit if one of you is actually not okay with it. We are all equal and we can solo fuck each other.”

Rhysand let out a loud, boisterous laugh, “that’s not what I was expecting, but absolutely.” All of you laughed again.

“I want dates too.”

“Always.” Feyre said.

“And gifts.” You said jokingly.

“Duh.” Rhysand said seriously.

But then you untangled yourself from the huddle and went to your bag that you had thrown down when you stormed into Feyre’s art studio.

Rhysand couldn’t help the pout and Feyre whined at the loss of contact.

You said nothing, but pulled out an orange and began peeling it. “Seriously? You’re snacking after that?” Rhysand exclaimed.

“Rhys, wait.” Feyre said, tears in her eyes. Her hand on his arm.

You offered it to them, “I don’t have time to prepare something right now, and frankly I’m not patient enough.”

They just stared at your open palms. “I accept.”

- Thus the frenzy began.

#feysand #feysand x reader #feyre archeron x reader #feyre x reader #rhysand x reader #acotar x reader #feysand fluff #feysand x reader fluff

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moronkombat · 5 months

Note

You were his little precious, the way he'd gift his little girl with beautiful treasures and spoil her rotten. Fortunately, she didn't turn out to be a spoiled little brat, she turned out to be a very fragile, humble, and innocent daughter of his.

But something bugged Shang Tsung. It distracted him the way your shirt would cling to your curves and how it would emphasize the size of your breasts. He found himself mindlessly daydreaming about pushing you face first into the matress and doing unexplainable things to you. Wait what? He couldn't, not when you were his daughter. His little precious he treasured the most. his bejeweled, kind, and sweetly innocent daughter whom he homeschooled since she was but a little child to protect her from the heartbreak she could experience from the other boys.

No, he was the only male in hee life. And only parent too.

But why? Why, at night, did he imagine himself fucking you so hard you'd forget your own name? Why, on his bed, he'd stroke himself to the sounds of your whimpers and soft moans of sexual frustration from the other room? And why were you here? Looking at him with pink cheeks and messy hair.

The way your pyjamas clung to your body, highlighting the beauty of your hips, your ass, your breasts, every part of your body. He stares at your hands for a moment too, wondering how the soft skin would feel around his cock, how slippery it would feel stained with his cum.

"Father, I- I ask for your assistance." You say, as you enter his room.

"Yes yes ah- what is it my sweet?" Shang Tsung says, getting up from his laying position, acting as if he hadn't been touching himself to the sounds that came from your little mouth.

"I.. I can't seem to let it out, father." You whisper, looking away from him in shame.

"Let what out, my darling?" But he very well knew what you were talking about.

You pulled your shorts down slowly, showing him the wetness that pooled between your thighs.

It was all blurry, next thing you knew the door to his room was locked tight and you were laying on your back, stripped of all your clothing. Pure, naked, wet and ready for your father, Shang Tsung.

This felt so wrong on so many different levels, he raised you, he was your father, both of you were blood related.

But those thoughts seemed to vanish from your and Shang Tsung's heads as you felt two fingers enter your throbbing pussy.

"Ah- father!" You moan as you covered your mouth with your hand.

"Don't worry my sweet. Father is simply... helping you out. That's what fathers and daughters do, right?" He said the final sentence at the same time he pushed another finger in, earning a sound of a whimper from you.

Everything seemed to happen so clearly, that the memory was burnt into your mind.

Shang Tsung curled his fingers up inside you, moving them at a pace, getting faster.

"Oh- father, yes! You're hitting just- shit kerp going- just the right spot!" You moaned, earning a smirk from the sorcerer.

"Are you about to come, my sweet?"

"Yes father! Please please make me cum!"

"I'm never one to deny a request." Shang Tsung said before he sped up his fingers, echoing sounds of wet squelching filling the room. "You're my good little girl, aren't you?" He whispers, his free hand moving a lock of hair from your face.

His words seemed to echo inside your head as you felt yourself tighten around him and finally let go of the frustration built up inside you. Shang Tsung still kept his speed up, making you a bit overstimulated.

All you can remember is that you could feel darkness envelop your eyes and drift you to dream world as you heard your father speak beside you.

"You're the peak of perfection, my sweet."

As you finally fall asleep you felt him kiss your forehead and cover you with a blanket.

-sincerely, 💬

I HOPE YOU LIKE IT I WROTE IT WHILE I WAS ON VACATION💀

oh my goobness....this was AMAZING TO READDDDD!!! Thank you so much for writing this for meeeeeee. i drank it alll up. daddy shang aint ever gonna leave his daughter too needy BARK BARK

#tw.incest #tw:incest

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the-guilty-writer · 11 months

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The Fake Doctor

Request from anon: Young autistic reader who’s Derek’s daughter and Derek needs Reid’s help with her

Derek Morgan x daughter!reader

Summary: After babysitting you, Spencer isn't sure how to bring up to Derek that he thinks you're autistic.

A/N: This is very short and really the best I could come up with. I very rarely write young children readers, but I figured out a way to make this one work by making it more Derek and Spencer centric than reader centric.

CW: just lots of fluff

---

Derek looked down the extraordinary long list in front of him and sighed. He didn't normally write a list for the babysitter, but he was worried about Spencer’s child-watching capabilities.

Derek was, for the first time in what he felt was a long time, going out on a date. Of course, your normal sitter canceled last minute due to having the flu. He’d gotten the text that morning at work and was about to cancel his date as well when Reid had offered up his services. Derek knew Spencer was good with kids and you liked him, but your dad was a bit skeptical about if the young doctor really knew what he was getting himself into.

Did a babysitter with an eidetic memory even need a list?

Derek didn’t have time to decide if he should throw it out or not because the doorbell rang through the house. Even though you were distracted by your favorite TV show, you still covered your ears and made a face at the high-pitched sound.

He made a mental note to himself to change the bell to something more pleasant, and walked to the front door to let Spencer in. “Hey, Reid.” Derek let his colleague through the door. “Thanks again for doing this. I owe you one.”

“It’s no problem,” Spencer replied. The two men walked toward the kitchen. “I didn’t have any plans besides reading.” The doctor held a thick book under one arm.

“Well I wrote everything down,” Derek said, handing Reid the list. “But you know how to reach me if you have questions.” While Spencer read through the list, your dad made his way to you. “Hey, baby girl.”

“Hi daddy,” you replied. It made Derek smile - he’d heard from lots of parents that you’d probably switch to “dad” soon enough, but you were still stuck calling him “daddy” and he truly hoped that never went away. “Are you going out with your friend for dinner?”

Derek’s date had been on the calendar for over a week now to prepare you that he wouldn’t be home for bedtime tonight. The unpredictable schedule of his job made you anxious, so when he could let you know about a scheduled event, he put it on the calendar in the kitchen. It wasn’t a perfect fix, but it seemed to help take the edge off.

“Yep,” he kneeled down in front of you. “Dr. Reid is here.”

“The fake doctor,” you said. Derek couldn’t help but laugh and it was only made funnier by the expression on Spencer’s face.

“Yeah, he’s going to stay with you while I go out, like we talked about earlier. Okay?”

You nodded and threw your arms around your father’s shoulders. “I love you, daddy.”

Derek hugged you back tightly. “I love you too, baby girl.” He planted a gentle kiss on top of your head and you went back to watching your show, hugging your arms around your knees as if it replaced the absence of your dad’s presence.

“Good luck,” Spencer said to him, as he left the house.

“You too, kid,” Derek plastered a joking smile on his face to cover up his nerves. It wasn’t his date he was nervous about; he was far more worried about Spencer taking care of you.

---

Spencer sat in one of the armchairs in the living room, reading his book over again for the second time. The only reason it wasn’t the third time was because he wasn’t sure what to say to Derek when he got home. Of course, what Spencer had to say was in your best interest, but that didn’t make it seem any less like he had been profiling you.

Just as he was beginning to revise his opening sentence in his head, there was a click with the opening of the front door and light footsteps along the hardwood.

“Hey, pretty boy,” Derek said with a small but tired smile on his face.

“Hey,” Spencer tried his best to control the nervous pitch of his voice. “How was your date?”

“It was good, actually,” he said. “How was my baby girl?”

“She was good.” Spencer tried to look more casual as he walked closer, but he’d forgotten that your dad knew his tells better than he knew his own.

“Reid, what is it?” Morgan’s brow furrowed with concern. Spencer paused and opened his mouth, but paused before he could go further. “Spit it out.”

“I think she might be autistic.” Spencer searched Derek’s face for an adverse reaction - guilt, denial, anger. What he didn’t expect was for him to say, “Yeah. I know,” and go about putting his coat away like the doctor’s statement was nothing out of the ordinary.

“I’ve known for a couple months now,” Derek continued. “It’s part of why I was concerned about you watching her. She doesn’t do great with last minute changes. It’s also why she calls you ‘the fake doctor.’ I had to explain to her why we weren’t going to see you when we went to see the real doctor.”

“Medical doctor,” Spencer corrected. “And I’m not qualified to diagnose anything, but I can give you an opinion.”

Derek smirked. “Well, I know I already owe you, but I could use your help with special interest research.”

Spencer nodded happily. “I’m pretty filled in on what she already knows after tonight.” He thought about the way your face had lit up when you talked, how excited you had been when he gave you a new fun fact, the joy that radiated off you.

“I’m sure you are, pretty boy,” Derek smiled. “But I know she’d love to know more.” he paused. “And I would like to know more too - about how I can help her.”

“Of course,” Spencer replied. “She’s lucky to have you as a dad.”

“Thanks.” Derek’s voice switched from genuine appreciation to a teasing tone when he said, “We’re both lucky she has an uncle that’s a fake doctor.”

And this time, Spencer couldn’t help but laugh.

#derek morgan fanfiction #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan x daughter!reader #derek morgan x child!reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x teen!reader #criminal minds x daughter!reader #criminal minds x child!reader #criminal minds x platonic!reader

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goldenlikedayl1ght · 3 months

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we're in love - m. murdock

a/n: hi guys not dead just played a LOT of baldurs gate over break and now im back ay college with matt murdock brainrot this ones been floating around the old noggin a while. sorry. likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! <3 warnings: DEAD DOVE with a happy ending, hard of hearing reader, cannon typical marvel violence, probably badly written violence, matt being upset, once again im tired and sleepy and bad at doing warnings, reader gets kidnapped TWICE, reader has superpowers, reader is TECHNICALLY a hybrid but literally just in the way that she has small antlers and deer like abilities (strength, jump height), fucked up experiments, ANGST ANGST ANGST, memory loss trope but like... the one from the hunger games. matt is hopelessly in love with reader, reader wants to kill matt, kissing, implied sexual ideas, cursing. SHAMELESS USE OF REAL OR NOT REAL FROM THG, reader having anxiety, and allusions of sex. word count: 7.1k summary: when your past finally catches up to you, matt truly learns what 'in sickness and in health' means. pairing: matt murdock x hoh!wife!reader now playing: we're in love - boygenius "will you still love me if it turns out I'm insane?/i know what you'll say/but it helps to hear you say it anyway."

Falling in love with Matt Murdock was the easy part.

Falling back in love with him was the tough bit.

You had spent the years leading up to meeting him as a boxer turned vigilante— Your dad had taught you how to fight young, which led to a lot of trouble at school until he eventually started helping you enter teenage fights against your mom’s wishes.

It’s how you paid for college.

And then, after your college experience, you lose control. It was never supposed to happen the way it did. You had lost a fight and stole the guy’s motorcycle in defiance. But the roads were wet from an early snow and people of New York never knew how to drive.

Just like that, the nerves in your hands were shot. The accident got your hearing too since you got sick from the cold after your accident. The infection got so bad that it took the hearing from your left ear—And half from your right.

For months, you thought you’d never gain control of your hands again, snapping from a promising young fighter to a deaf and shaky temp. You were miserable. Fighting was your everything for so long.

And then The Doctor found you.

No, not the alien from the British television show, but a man who promised you your old life back. He found you while you were at your lowest and realized that you would do anything for your old life back.

He said in exchange for your old life, all you would have to do would be a test subject for a harmless new drug he was testing out.

You were so enamored by the idea of your old life that you had decided to take him up on his offer, so you were whisked away upstate with a group of other people desperate enough to try this experiment out.

Every morning you were given a shot of blue liquid into your arm, and then, you were to preform a series of tasks to record your progress. After three weeks you grew frustrated that you had seen no progress. You spent most of your time asking people to talk into your right ear and becoming mad at The Doctor.

About a month in, you started growing antlers.

At first, you freaked out. Like, truly, screamed and yelled, wanting an explanation. The Doctor celebrated, telling you this was great news—And to prove it, he had you pick up a pen and write a sentence out. Your hands didn’t shake and did everything you told them to do.

On top of the antlers and the newfound control of your nerves, you were strong—Fast, too. You could jump twelve-foot walls. The Doctor was obsessed with you. While other patients died off from whatever drugs you were being given, you were thriving.

At the end of your three-month stay, you were excited to leave and head back to your life. You’d just have to wear beanies everywhere to hide your antlers, you told yourself. A small price to pay.

But The Doctor wouldn’t let you leave.

How could he, he asked you, when you were his best test subject?

Being a prisoner was a lot worse than you thought it would be. Day in and day out, you were trained to be a soldier, you think. Fighting various guards, doing different athletic tests. The serum hadn’t fixed your hearing, but it had given you all of these gifts.

Until The Doctor became cruel.

He gave the guards these batons that had shock currents at the end of them, instructing them to use it whenever you talked back or underperformed. For months you struggled through days of electric shocks and experiments.

One night, a guard slipped into your cell, expecting you to be an easy target. You quickly showed him differently, knocking him out and stealing his weapons. And then, you ran. You ran until your feet bled—No shoes.

An old woman who had retired upstate welcomed you into her small cabin and fed you, never asking about the small antlers growing out of your head. She simply gave you a warm knit cap and a pair of boots for the cold.

You remember eating chili with her as she told you about her deceased husband. You changed your last name to theirs, knowing The Doctor would find you if you kept going by your name. You stayed with her for a weekend, coming back from gathering firewood to The Doctor’s men there, having killed the kind old woman and on the hunt for you. You stole her car and never looked back.

The next few weeks after that had been full of killing various soldiers and armies that The Doctor had sent after you, until you eventually pushed The Doctor off a building, believing to have killed him for good.

And that was that.

You went on with your life as usual, finding a permanent job as a secretary. In a law office.

Which, of course, is where you met Matt.

With Matt, you never felt the need to hide who you were. Of course, it was a lot easier to tell him that some mad scientist had infected you with a drug that turned you into a deer hybrid when he told you that he was Daredevil.

And with time, some of the effects of the serum began to fizzle out. Strength, Agility, Antlers—Those stayed. The control over your hands didn’t. But you made peace with that. Physical Therapy twice a week and hearing aids helped.

Especially because early Sunday mornings were filled with Matt running his fingers through your hair, running his pointer finger along the curves of your antlers. He takes your hands and kisses your fingertips as they shake, hushing you softly when you start crying as he does.

He spars with you and spends nights running around New York City with you, jumping from rooftop to rooftop.

He tells you about Elektra, Stick, his dad, and Fisk.

One day, when you feel safe enough, wrapped up in his arms and a layer of blankets as snow falls against the windows, you tell him about The Doctor. You explain to him your nightmares, and why they will never go away.

He kisses away your tears and promises he’ll never let anything happen to you.

When he asks you to marry him, you don’t hesitate to say yes. There’s not a moment where you regret that decision. You insist to get married in the summer, during the short month where your antlers shed before they grow back. He agrees happily, just wanting you to be happy.

You’ve been married for about five months when you start to think about kids. You’ve been married six when you realize the worst possible scenario is your reality—When vials of blue serum show up at your front door with a note scribbled out—

‘My Best Test Subject,

I cannot wait to catch up with you soon.

-The Doctor’

You call Matt in a panic, begging him to come home and be with you. He obliges and holds you as you calm down. He promised to love you in sickness and in health, and that is what he fully intends to do.

This is the story of the greatest challenge that your marriage would face.

• • •

After the note you had received, you almost exclusively traveled with Matt. Even for just a casual stroll, a walk to the deli or home from work, He was there with you. He knew you could handle yourself, but you felt safer with him close by.

But Matt’s senses were never as focused when it rained, especially on nights like today. The rain pours, it almost stings against his skin. And it’s loud. You don’t have your hearing aids in, so they catch you both by surprise.

It all happens too fast—

In an instant, Matt is being pulled off your arm and slammed against the closest brick alley, and when he hears the click of a gun behind him, he realizes what’s happening. He tries to fight, but before he can make any process, someone is swinging that gun against his head, and when he wakes up, he’s all alone.

He calls out to you and gets no response other than thunder rumbling from miles away. He is filled with nothing but a rage, a determination to find you.

He scrambles for his phone and uses it to call Karen.

“I need you to get Frank.” He tells her, “Please. I.. I don’t know what happened, but.. He took her, I need.. Karen, I need to find her.” He tells her.

Frank is on his way to New York within the hour.

• • •

When you wake up, your arms are strapped behind your back in some sort of metal contraption. You can feel the ache in your hands, indicating that you had fought against whoever brought you here. The room is quiet. A small cot in one corner, but the rest of the room is barren.

You’re wearing white pants and a gray muscle tee, with no shoes. You’re suddenly thankful you left your wedding ring at home, so that it might not end up in his hands.

You wait a while, and then the door opens. The Doctor, flanked by two men in heavy armor, holding those batons you’re all too acquainted with, steps into the room. You simply stare, but The Doctor looks like a child on Christmas morning.

But there’s something else to his appearance. His left eye is this bright yellow, and his pupil is a different shape. Green scales travel up his neck and coat the bottom right half of his face, and down his arms, reaching his fingertips. He looks like a monster, but you quickly realize what has happened.

Whatever serum gave you your abilities, was given to him. Only, his was made from that of snakes, not deer.

“My beautiful creation!” He gasps and takes your face in his hand, planting a kiss to your head, right between your antlers. “It’s been too long, you know.” His ‘s’ sounds are elongated, and his teeth are sharper. He has become destroyed by his own mad endeavors. When you don’t respond to his greeting, he continues to speak. “It’s been an eventful few years for you, huh?” When this doesn’t get a response from you, he stands up straight and backs up just a foot. “New job, new name… New husband.” Your head snaps up at that. “What? You think I haven’t been keeping tabs on you and the boy? What do you call him, then? Matthew or Daredevil?”

Your eyes grow wide, unsure how he knows about your husband’s secret hobby.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You spit, your gaze hardening into a glare.

“Don’t I? You make quite the couple. The little deaf doe and her crime fighting blind husband.” He laughs, “And they say I like a project.”

“You won’t touch him or I swear to god—”

“Little doe, you misunderstand. I want nothing to do with your husband. I just want you to be the good subject I know you can be.” He tells you. “You and I are the only of our kind. I want to study you, replicate you.”

“You’re going to kidnap more people.”

“You weren’t kidnapped, you volunteered.”

“I won’t do whatever it is you want me to do.” You tell him. “I don’t care, I will escape, I will kill you.”

He shakes his head, taking one of the batons from the guards, before hitting you across the face with it. You groan in pain, turning your head back to glare at him. He sighs.

“I didn’t want to have to do this. But I did anticipate that Husband of yours interrupting things.” He hands the baton back to the guard before telling him. “Take her down the hall and get her ready, alright?”

You struggle your way down the hall, refusing to do whatever is coming to you without a fight. When the guards uncuff you to strap you to this big dentist looking chair, you manage to get out of the grasp of the guard, swinging a punch on him but this newfound advantage is short lived, as the other guard quickly grabs your arms and pushes you against the chair. You’re yelling and thrashing but they manage to get your arms and legs strapped down to the chair.

Your heartbeat is racing, and quietly, only in your mind, you beg. But not for mercy. Not from The Doctor. You beg Matt to come find you. Because you know that you do not stand a chance on your own, but maybe he could find you. He had to find you.

The Doctor sits in a chair next to you and holds up a small purple vial.

“This is hallucinogenic snake venom, mixed with a duller version of the serum we gave you. What this will do is allow me to go into your memories and alter them.” He explains as if you’re getting a simple procedure done. Tears fill your eyes.

“You’re going to make me forget him?” You ask, your voice breaking.

The Doctor hushes you softly, wiping your tears softly.

“Oh, no, little doe. I’m going to change what you do remember about him to make you hate him.”

• • •

Six months is a long time to be without your wife. For anyone, no matter who it is.

For Matt Murdock, it’s absolute torture. He spends all day half paying attention to his work while trying to research who The Doctor is. He spends all night trying to find you.

Frank lives, breathes, eats and sleeps to find you. He’s still technically a wanted man, so he pretty much stays under the radar as he looks for you. You remind him of a lot of guys he knew in the army, of himself.

Karen busies herself with research, looking through cases of old files at The Bulletin to try and see if there are any tips or stories that could maybe be connected to where you are. She gets about as little sleep as Matt.

And Foggy has the most important job of all.

Making sure Matt doesn’t kill himself in the process of trying to find you. Because for the first two months Matt didn’t sleep, hardly ate. And as he deteriorated, Foggy reminded him that to find you, he’d need to stay alive. He needs to shower, he needs to keep going to church, he needs to keep eating. The thought of hearing your heartbeat again keeps him going.

It’s as they’re packing up to go home one night that Frank comes into the office with blood-stained hands. They all know he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t have something, so Karen asks first.

“What? What is it?”

“Buddy of mine found a file. Some private medicinal corporation funding a project for some sort of doctor doing cancer research, upstate.”

The location peaks Matt’s interest, because one of the few things he knows of your first experience is that the lab was in upstate New York.

“Okay, but—” Karen starts, but Frank hands her the file.

“Report shows the guy had scales.” He told her. “And I don’t know what you guys make of that but sounds to me like a side effect similar to the serum that was given to her.”

“Where?” Matt asks.

“Red, just—”

“Give me a god damn address, Frank.” He demands.

“I’ll drive you. Come on, things are probably gonna get wild and I don’t want you going alone.” He told him. Matt agrees, but only because he knows he can’t drive and would wind up walking to you.

“Then let’s go.” Before Frank can argue, Matt is walking out the door and going to get suited up for the journey ahead.

• • •

Daredevil is my enemy.

Matt Murdock hates me.

I hate him.

We were never really in love with each other.

These are the thoughts that echo through your mind as you wait for your next round of testing. The six-month mark is pivotal, The Doctor tells you time and time again.

Overall, you’ve made tremendous progress. He tells you that within weeks, other serums will be ready to test on new subjects. Maybe then, he tells you, he’ll promote you from just being a soldier.

Maybe.

You almost don’t hear the alarm going off somewhere in the distance. Of course, you don’t. The serum has never helped your hearing.

The way you remember it, Daredevil, a man who once claimed to love you, fought you to the point that he destroyed the nerves in your hands, destroyed your hearing. It’s fuzzy now, but you know this: The Doctor helped you. He put you back together.

But you do hear the alarm, eventually. It concerns you; it means someone has broken into the building. Your thoughts linger on the masked vigilante that haunts your nightmare. You’re getting stronger to defeat him, The Doctor says.

It’s a cool summer night when whoever it is broke in, breaks down your door. You immediately stand, quickly identifying Frank Castle, a grin breaking across your face. Closely behind, you identify a man in red.

Your heartbeat races, but you just stare at the pair.

Matt strips off his helmet and approaches you, wanting to make sure this was real. That you were real. His hands find your cheeks, and tears fill his eyes. He says your name gently.

“I found you, I’ve got you…”

You blink, unsure of what sort of cruel teasing that was.

Because in an instant, your glare hardens and you’re pushing him against a wall, starting to throw punches at him. He’s too far in shock to react, but Frank is pulling you off of him, and you’re struggling against him.

“Let me go! I need to kill him! He’s evil, he needs to die!” You cry, and Matt is just saying your name softly, in absolute disarray. What had they done to you, his sweet girl?

Frank pins you down to the ground, unsure of why you, a woman he had perceived to be so in love with the man behind him, are so adamant that he dies.

“Enough, Enough!” He barks, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at Matt. “That is your husband, girl. Stop acting like he’s torturing you when he is not the one whose been experimenting on you for six months!”

“Let me go, I need him gone! He’s cruel, He’s a monster!” You cry, and Matt has started crying. Putting you both out of your misery, Frank hits you in a way that knocks you right out. Matt goes over to your now unconscious form and pets your hair.

“Why was she—”

“I don’t know.. I just don’t know, red. Let’s get her out of here to figure it out, okay?” Matt just nods and grabs his helmet, slipping it on so Frank can’t see him crying anymore.

• • •

If you had a nickel for every time you woke up tied to a chair, you’d have more nickels than you had fingers.

Today is no different.

You’re surrounded by people you don’t recognize. And one you do. Your angry glare stays on him, and he looks upset by it.

You’re unsure why. You’re so sure he just wanted you dead.

The blonde woman in front of you says your name softly. When your gaze shifts to her, you notice her soft eyes.

“How do you know my name?” You ask.

She frowns.

“It—Because we’re good friends.”

“I don’t know you.”

“You don’t… My name is Karen.” She says softly. She goes over to a nearby shelf, pulling out a picture frame and showing it to you. “Here, that’s you and me. At your wedding.”

“My wedding? The one that he set up just to hurt me?”

Matt remembers you telling him that you had never been happier than when you were getting ready for your wedding.

There’s two other men, one held you down while you were meant to kill Matt, but the other one.. You vaguely remember him standing next to Matt when you got married.

He speaks next.

“Matt and Frank, they found these vials in one of the labs. We think the man that took you used it to... to alter your memories.”

“Why would The Doctor do that? He helped me.” You tell them, unsure what to make of this whole situation. Matt is growing extremely frustrated because he knows just how scared you were of that monster.

“Untie her.” Matt tells Frank, and everyone looks at him like he’s crazy. Including you because you know that you’ll just try and kill him. “Do it,” he tells him again and very hesitantly, Frank does untie you. When you’re free from the rope, you step forward to go towards Matt, but Frank grabs your arm.

“Don’t,” he says. But then, Matt reaches for Frank’s gun on the nearby table and hands it to you. Odd choice for a man you want to kill.

“Go ahead.” He tells you, facing you now. “Shoot me, kill me if that’s what you really want to do.” He says. You stare at the gun in your hand for a second, before holding it properly and aiming it at Matt. Everyone waits with bated breath to see what you’ll do.

Pull the trigger, you tell yourself, The Doctor’s voice echoing around your head. He hurt you, the voice says. He needs to die.

And yet, you just stare at the man on the other end of the gun, trying to build up the courage to kill him. To kill the man that for months you have been taught needs to die. That you have memories of hurting you, of maiming you.

Your hand tremors as tears fill your eyes, until you eventually drop your arm, so the gun isn’t pointing at him anymore.

“Look at the photo of you and Karen,” Matt tells you, “You have hearing aids in the photo. I didn’t do that to you, you got into a bad accident, you got sick and that’s how you lost your hearing. I had nothing to do with that. You even had your powers before me, you didn’t just get them in the past six months. The Doctor is an evil man who just wanted to torture people and turn them into science experiments.” He tells you, and you want to tell him to stop, that it’s not true. But something in you tells you not to. “I love you,” he says gently, and you flinch away from him when he says this.

It breaks his heart into a million pieces. Absolutely shatters it.

“I don’t know you.” You tell him.

Sensing that Matt doesn’t know what to say to that, Frank steps forward.

“Hey. I’m Frank, you remember me?”

“You pinned me down when you found me.” He sighs softly.

“Yeah, well.. You have memories of when the two of you got married, right? So those are real memories… What about the ones of him hurting you? Do they look any different?”

You take a moment to close your eyes and really focus on the memory you have so closely attached to the man in red. They’re.. Filmy. Like they have a filter on them or like glass shimmering in the sun.

Tears fall from your eyes as you open them, your hand quickly coming up to wipe your tears.

“I think we did enough for now.. She needs to rest.” The man whose name you don’t know, but he has this shaggy blonde hair. Then this question comes up in everyone’s mind—Where will you stay?

“I’ll take the couch,” Matt says, “You take the bed.” You don’t know how comfortable you are with being alone with Matt in this apartment, even if the memories are fake. They feel pretty real.

“I don’t know if—” Karen starts.

“I.. It’s fine..” you say softly, and that fills Matt with a fraction of hope. “It’s just over night.”

Frank sighs softly, taking his gun off the table and glancing at Matt.

“We’re only a phone call away, alright?” Karen tells him.

It feels sort of awkward that they only talk to him as if you can’t hear them. Well, you can’t hear them very well, but you can hear.

“There’s clothes for you in the bedroom,” Matt tells you, “Go take a shower and I’ll walk them to the door.” Very reluctant to turn your back on Matt, you make your way to the bedroom to gather your clothes and go to shower.

You really haven’t had a good shower in six months, so it’s nice to wash the dirt off your skin and from beneath your fingernails. You spend a long time under the hot shower, letting it burn your skin. Your whole life has been turned upside down because you’re slowly coming to terms with the fact that Matt Murdock isn’t your sworn enemy, and that maybe.. he just.. does like you..

Meanwhile, Matt walks the others out, or at least to the door, hesitant to go too far from you.

Foggy glances back to him before he leaves, curiously.

“How did you know she wouldn’t shoot you?”

He hesitates.

“I didn’t.” he says softly. “I just trusted that somewhere within her, my wife still loves me.”

• • •

Later that night, you stare out the window of his apartment at that bright billboard. You gaze at it curiously, and hear Matt call your name gently behind you. In his hands, he holds your hearing aids.

You put them on, and just look at him for a few minutes.

“You kept them?”

“I never stopped looking for you..” He told you. “I prayed every night hoping to hear your heartbeat again.” He tells you, and you don’t know what to make of it. He seems so devoted to you, yet you have these memories of him beating you until you’re close to death.

“I’m sorry I can’t be in love with you the way you want me to be.”

He shrugs gently.

“In sickness and in health, right?”

“And in torture and memory alteration.”

“Same thing.”

For the first time in six months, you smile.

Maybe your husband isn’t such a bad guy.

You can only hope he’ll love you long enough for you to get your shit together and not want to kill him anymore.

• • •

Memories are a tricky thing.

You decide to spend your days with Frank, hunting down various people who worked with The Doctor. You talk a lot about your memories with him. And no matter what, at the end of the day, you have dinner with Matt.

One night, he brings home Thai Food.

“We had this for our first date,” he recalls. “You got pad Thai, your favorite.” You try to recall the memory.

“You wore a nice blue button up, right?” You say softly. He smiles gently and nods.

“Yeah. I did.” He says gently.

“Can..” You hesitate. “Can you tell me more about it? Our life together? I can’t.. discern between what’s real and fabricated.” You’re making new memories, sure, but you know he misses the life the two of you had together.

But he’s caught off guard by your request. For the past few weeks, you’ve been hesitant to indulge in any memories you think might be real.

“You used to work for me.” He tells you. “Not in a weird way, but our office is small. We fell in love over Thai food and opening statements.”

“Why did you want to marry me?”

He hesitates for a second, not wanting to scare you off.

“Because I love you.” He tells you. “Because when you were with me, it was the closest thing I’d ever knew to peace.” He confesses.

“Oh..”

“Yeah.” He takes another bite of his food. “You know if you have a memory and you don’t know if it’s real, you can always ask.”

You smile softly.

“Thanks.” There’s a soft silence that fills the room before you ask, “I have this memory of us in bed, with you running your hand through my hair.. Your fingers tracing these antlers I have.. Is that real?”

“Yeah, it is..” He promised. “I have a thing about textures and your hair is soft.”

“I’m glad.” You smile. This is nice. This gentleness that’s between you. It’s a softness you aren’t used to, one that you don’t know if you’d ever quite get used to.

Later that night, when you were meant to be fast asleep, you wake up with a startling gasp in bed. You look around panicked. You don’t quite know who you’re looking for..

Until Matt comes into the room, a concerned look on his face.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and this calmness washes over you.

“Yeah..”

“Okay. Okay, good, I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” He says softly. He’s been so good to you, sleeping on the couch for so many weeks. He goes to leave, but you call out to him. He turns back to you.

“Can you stay with me?” You ask.

“Yeah, of course.” He says softly, climbing into bed with you. You think for a second, before shifting a bit, resting your head against his chest. You listen to the gentle thud of his heartbeat, as his hand finds your back, gently rubbing up and down. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He isn’t dumb—He knows you have nightmares. And that on the nights that you do, you’re quieter and more avoidant of him. It’s a bad habit, one you want to break. Because you recognize that your dreams aren’t real.

Matt has never done anything to you, and you’re sure of this.. For the most part. Sometimes when you wake up, you must reorient yourself and remind yourself that Matt has no malicious intent towards you and no reason to hurt you.

But it takes you a few minutes to accomplish this. On those mornings, you tend to keep your distance from him, and because Matt wants nothing but your happiness, he stays away from you. But tea is always placed in front of you, and he never strays far from you.

“Not really.” You finally answer. There’s another beat of silence. “We went as the couple from The Princess Bride for our first Halloween together.. Real or not real?”

“Real.” He confirms.

“You broke my nose once during an argument. Real or not real?”

“Not real.” He tells you. “I would never hurt you. Even when we used to fight at the gym, it was always for practice, never to do actual damage. And when we would spar, it would always end with us going home and taking a hot bath.”

You close your eyes, trying to recall that particular memory. When you find it, your face flushes with this unfamiliar heat.

“You’re still trying to protect me even though I wanted you dead... Real or not real?”

“Real.” He doesn’t even hesitate. He’s not sure if you’ve realized it yet, but he’d rather die than put you anywhere close to being in danger. His hand continues to trace patterns into your skin, as you think about his response.

You fall asleep like this, close to the man who you’re realizing has never intended to hurt you a day in your life.

• • •

The day you realize you’re in love with your husband is horrifying.

Which seems like a crazy accusation to make, and yet, you feel nothing but horror when you realize that you are desperate for him. Which is insane, because you’ve been living with him for two months when you realize you are desperate to kiss him like you’re drowning and need air.

It happens at the office. You decided to cook, because you remember really liking it, and to say thank you for all he’s done for you, you want to bring lunch to Matt at work. So you make this really delicious chicken pesto pasta, and you pick up sodas to go along with it. Matt gets the following text:

‘Your favorite soda is Dr. Pepper. Real or not real?’

Five minutes later, you get a response.

‘Real. Yours is sprite.’

You pick up a bottle of each and head over to his office. You’ve been there a few times before, but mostly it was because Frank needed to talk to Karen about something, but lately you’ve found yourself wanting to go to the office just to see Matt.

Matt is surprised when he hears the familiar beat of your heart on the other side of the door. He can also hear the slight buzz of your hearing aids.

“Sweetheart, you can come in.” He calls, but you hesitate even further. Not because you’re confused as to why he knows it’s you, but because your brain sort of short circuits when he calls you the pet name. But after a few minutes, you walk into the room and place lunch on his desk, as well with your drinks.

“Do you like pesto?”

“We had pesto pasta at our wedding.” Oh.

“So you do?”

“Yeah, I do. Especially the way you make it.”

“Oh, good.” You smile and sit at the chair on the other side of the desk. “Because I made chicken pesto pasta for lunch and figured you might want some.”

“Well, thank you for thinking of me.”

There’s a quiet calm between the two of you.

“This is a pretty killer first date, huh?” This makes Matt laugh, because in his mind, your first date was eating Thai food and listening to music. But this isn’t bad either.

“Well, Chivalry must be dead then, because I didn’t even buy you flowers.” He hums, and you tilt your head.

“I don’t remember you ever buying me flowers.” He frowns at this.

“Well, I’m going to have to fix that.”

And that’s how the afternoon goes. You sit with Matt in his office, eating a homemade chicken pasta and falling in love with him. As you go to leave, he asks you what you have planned for the day.

“I have some errands to run, but I should be home to make dinner.” And for a moment, Matt forgets all that’s happened, and he lets himself believe that you have all your memories of him perfectly intact and no one’s ever made you think otherwise.

You get back to the apartment a few hours later, and just as you’re unpacking your groceries, there’s a knock at the door. When you open it, a delivery man stands with a bouquet of flowers. Your face is warm as you sign off on them.

As you put them in their vase, you notice a note attached to it. You catch yourself grinning as you read his little note, that reads ‘I’ll buy you flowers until I’m old and wrinkly. Real.’

The urge to run back to the office and kiss him overwhelms you.

So you call Frank.

This leads to the pair of you, sitting at a booth in a diner, nursing coffees and toast.

“I hope you didn’t call me here just to complain about married life.” He tells you, making a joke out of the thing that terrifies you.

“No, I just wanted you to sit here talking to a chick with antlers so you can look like more of a freak than you already are.” You tease.

It gets you both laughing. These moments, in between all the nightmares and all of the filmy memories, fill you with a light you can’t quite describe.

“So, why’d you really call me to meet up?” He asks. “I have to assume you don’t just want to chitchat.”

“I think I’m in love with Matt.” You tell him. He raises an eyebrow.

“What? Why does that sound like you think it’s a problem?” He asks.

“I don’t know.” You confess. “It’s like I don’t want to love him, like a part of me still believes he’s the bad guy. I know he does.. Besides, I was so awful to him for so long. I pointed a gun at him and he still comforts me every night. What if I don’t deserve this?” You ask. “What if I don’t deserve him?”

Frank actually laughs—Okay, not like a giggle or a belly laugh, but it gets a good chuckle out of him.

“You and Red with that shit—Questioning if you’ve done enough for something good to happen to you. With the ‘Do I deserve this?’ and the ‘Am I worthy of this?” He shakes his head. “All that shit is irrelevant. Do you want it? Do you want to be with him?”

Tears fill your eyes as you realize what that means.

“You and him, you love each other like breathing, and I know you don’t quite get that yet, but it’s the same reason you didn’t shoot him that day. Something in you knows that you love him and deserve his love.” Frank is speaking from experience, because he knows that no matter what he’s done, he knows he deserves one more kiss from his wife.

But he’ll never get that chance.

He hopes Matt does.

• • •

It takes you a long time to make your way back to the apartment. When you get there, Matt immediately stands from his place on the couch and has this look of concern etched across his face.

“Is everything okay?” he asks gently, “Your heart is racing, I just want to make sure you’re safe and—"

“I’m fine.” You smile gently. “Really, I… Thank you for the flowers.” You tell him. His face softens.

“You like them?”

“I love them, Matt.” You confess. “I’ve spent.. So long trying to rationalize everything, sort out the real things from the things that aren’t..” You’re not too sure what you’re trying to say. “I just.. I want.. I want to try. I want to try and be with you, I’m ready for that. I’m ready to be happy with you..”

He hesitates. Not because he doesn’t want to, because he doesn’t want you, but he is worried that you’re only saying these things because you feel like you might owe him. You don’t. You don’t owe him anything other than what you want to give him, and he is desperate for you to know that.

“Sweetheart, You don’t.. I don’t need.. I don’t need you to pretend like you want me just because I’ve taken care of you. It’s more than enough to just—”

Matt is cut off by his first kiss from you in eight months. Your hands rest on the sides of his cheeks, and his arms are quickly around your torso. The kiss is passionate but soft at first—Until you push deeper, desperate to be as close as you can to him. Your hand even comes up to pull off his glasses to see his eyes.

Without thinking, you pull away from him only for your hand to come down to the hem of his shirt, going to pull it off.

“Off, off, off, off—” You softly request, and he just laughs, taking your hand in his, pressing a kiss to the back of it.

“Stop. Wait.” He says gently. “I just.. I want to make sure you actually want this.. That you really want me.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“You’ve been reserved for the past two months, rightfully so, but now you want to sleep with me.. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret. Or something you do just because you feel lonely or bad that I—” You cut him off with another kiss, breaking it shortly after.

“I want you. I want to rebuild my life with you. I want to create new, untainted memories.. It won’t be easy, but I want to be with you.” You confess. “I want countless summer nights, I want you to be there for all the nightmares, I.. I want to give you the same peace you’ve been trying to give me.”

You’re both crying and you don’t quite know why. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a gold band. He slips it onto your fingers and kisses you again. He holds the hand with your wedding ring on it as he leads you into the bedroom. Into your life together. Into your arms. Where you were meant to be.

The next morning, you lay in the quiet of your apartment, the silk sheets tickling your skin. You focus on Matt’s breathing. He traces patterns into your skin.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask, and he takes a moment to answer.

“You.” He says gently. “You’re all I’ve been thinking about for three years.” He says gently. Then, when you don’t say anything, “Our anniversary was two months ago..” You know he misses the life you could have had together.

The life that he had planned out for the pair of you in his head. The life that oh so quietly, he longs for. The one without nightmares, supplemented by the laughter of any potential children you might have.

“I could get used to thinking about you, too, you know.” And it makes him laugh, as you lean up and bite his shoulder gently, before placing a kiss to that same patch of skin. He swats your arm gently before the pair of you break down into giggles.

“In the future, if you ever.. don’t want to do that, you don’t have to.”

“I know.” You tell him.

A comfortable silence fills the air again.

“I’m so happy you came back to me.” He says gently. “I was.. I spent so long worried that.. that we’d spend years just trying to find our footing again. That you wouldn’t get better..” For the second time tonight, you cut off his overthinking with a kiss.

“I love you.” You tell him when you’re finally ready to pull away. The morning light shines into the apartment, giving Matt this glowing effect. He practically shimmers in the golden light, and you just take a moment to commit the look of him to memory.

You try and take your time, studying him. He’s so beautiful this time of day.

“Real or not real?” He asks you softly, as one hand snakes up to your hair, his fingers gently running through it.

You lean forward and place a soft kiss to his lips.

“Real.”

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