#and would you look at that— we’re all out of rags

[bookshelf-in-progress]

Jack and His Wife: A Retelling of "Jack and the Beanstalk"

Jill raced through the giant’s kitchen, clinging to Jack’s hand. A table towered over their heads. Chair legs stood like a forest of trees. Footsteps like thunder pounded beyond the walls of the room.

Before today, Jill had thought herself fearless, but those footsteps made her quake with terror. Jack, meanwhile, had never looked so capable. Was this tower of strength the fuzzy-headed dreamer who’d left their farm this morning?

Jack helped Jill to climb inside a cupboard taller than their cottage, then dragged the door closed behind them.

“We’re safe,” he breathed, holding Jill close in the darkness. “He won’t find us here.”

Through a crack in the door, Jill saw a giant enter the room—a coarse man, taller than any tree she’d ever seen. His face was red and knobby, his hair mostly gone. He threw himself into a chair with a noise like a thunderstorm and bellowed for his wife.

Jill whispered, “What are we going to do?”

“We wait,” Jack said. “He’ll eat his lunch, then he’ll sleep, and we can leave.”

Jill looked in awe at her husband. He was so steady. So sure. Where was the incompetent fool she’d married?

“You’ve been here before,” she realized. “All those days you disappeared and came back with food.”

Jack nodded. “I had to provide for you somehow. Everything else I’ve tried has failed.”

“You told me you’d hired yourself out to some local farmers.”

“He is a local farmer—directly above our cottage. I’ve done some odd jobs for his wife.”

“You never said they were giants!”

“Would you have believed me?”

Jill blushed. She’d have thought her idiot husband had turned lunatic as well.

She’d thought Jack climbed the beanstalk out of idleness—enjoying the view rather than working the land. She had followed him today out of frustration, thinking to drag him back to earth with scoldings and nagging. Instead, she’d found Jack braving a land of giants in the clouds.

In the oversized kitchen, the giant’s wife cooked a feast for her husband—entire cattle, flocks of chickens—but she never came near their cupboard. This hiding place was dark, cluttered with buckets, and smelled faintly of vinegar, but for now, it seemed safe.

Jack made a seat in a massive pile of rags, then settled Jill into it. “Rest while you can. We’ll need to be ready to run.” After making certain Jill was comfortable, he curled up on a thin patch at the edge of the pile.

He was so considerate. He was always considerate, Jill realized, but down on the ground, it annoyed her. His small courtesies seemed like pitiful apologies for the larger ways he failed as a husband.

Jill had fallen in love with Jack’s dreaming ways. He’d been charming and convincing, overflowing with grand hopes for their future. Unfortunately, in twelve years of marriage, none of his dreams became reality. Crop after crop failed, livestock died, and Jill became bitter. Jack never did, and she hated him for it. No matter how desperate they became, he was always sure that next year’s crop would fix everything or his grand new scheme would make them rich as kings.

The beans had been his worst blunder. Jack had traded their last sickly cow for a handful of seeds guaranteed to grow a forest of vines. He’d spun visions of a bumper crop, a better life. Jill had raged and thrown the seeds out the window.

The seeds did grow massive vines practically overnight, but they were a menace. The beanstalk took up half their garden. The inedible vines showed no signs of bearing fruit. Every day, they hacked at runners and roots that threatened to destroy their cottage. Jack put a cheerful face on it; Jill had only complained.

Outside their cupboard, a shout from the giant sent shivers up Jill’s spine. “Did he just ask for ‘man-flesh’?”

Jack sat up and nodded grimly. “Fortunately, his wife objects.”

“You work for this monster?”

“I’d be his next meal if he saw me. His wife has a softer heart. She hides me from him and gives us food.”

“I’d rather starve than know you risk yourself this way.”

Jack gave Jill an astonished look that made her insides twist with shame. Had it been so long since she’d expressed concern for his well-being?

Jack stepped closer to the door. “If it were only me, I wouldn’t risk it. But we could save the whole valley. He’s been hoarding the water somehow, keeping it here in the clouds. If I could find a way to release it, it could end the drought.”

The giant slammed down an empty glass, leaned back in his chair, and called for music.

Jack said grimly, “We’re also not the only humans here.”

The giant’s wife carried a golden cage into the kitchen. Huddled in the center, looking small as a canary, sat a crying eight-year-old-girl.

“Farmer Gidding’s youngest,” Jack explained. “Sings like a nightingale. Not big enough to eat. He keeps her as a pet.”

“How horrible," Jill whispered.

As the little girl piped a tearful song, Jack said, “I had hoped I could rescue her today, but now that you’re here, plans will have to change.”

As Jack gazed through the crack, a ray of light illuminated his fearless form. Jill had thought her husband’s optimism made him a fool, but there was another word for a man who didn’t let defeat discourage him, who looked at impossible odds and dared to try anyway.

Hero.

How had she ever stopped loving him?

Jill stepped to Jack’s side. “Let me help you, my love.”

Jack looked at her with surprise. “Truly?”

Jill took his hand. “Truly.”

Jack grinned.

#

When the giant fell asleep, they moved as one.

The child came with them down the beanstalk.

#the bookshelf progresses #fairy tale retellings #jack and the beanstalk #another of my flash fictions #probably the second most-polished #wrote this one after reading elizabeth goudge so that's where the 'woman learning to appreciate her holy fool of a husband' comes from

[camping-with-monsters]

“…I sure hope not.”

#sorry I spilled my cup of angst oops #and would you look at that— we’re all out of rags #looks like it’s just gonna have to sit here lol #Daisy-Mae you… really should have actually got help #Look at these two. Blissfully unaware of what’s to come. #How bad it’s about to be for the whole family… #I’m gonna start experimenting with drawing actual interactions between these two…? #like more ‘in character’ stuff rather than just only silly doodles or experimental/rendered pieces #for those who I sent this on discord to: im surprised none of y’all have pointed out the bruising on Rupert’s wrist #a reminder: daisy-mae is not a pretty character. she had a lot of untreated issues that became everyone’s problem #another reminder: these two were in a toxic relationship because of that #the things Daisy’s saying here were unfortunately some things I’ve been told before #after all. who better to write characters in a toxic relationship that a victim themselves? #Rupert Snapdragon #Daisy-Mae #Bliss #ocs #original characters #original stories #The Kiwi Draws

[cloudybarnes]

bella donna

Pairing: theodore nott x reader

Summary: a sick night in bed calls for your cute boyfriend to come in and take care of you

Word Count: 800+

Masterlist

✰  ✰  ✰

Nothing was helping.

The soup burned your tongue, the medication didn’t cure your stuffy nose, and your throat felt like it was on fire.

You felt like total shit right about now. 

“I’m sorry mi amore.” Theodore said as he wrung out a wet rag to place on your forehead. You were laid up in your bed, covers drawn to your chin as a chill wracked through you. 

Theo sat on a small stool next to your bed. He was being the sweetest boyfriend ever. He waited on you hand and foot for everything you needed. 

He was the one to make the soup and fetch the medicine and rags for your head. 

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry about, Theo,” you mumbled. “You’ve done literally everything right for me.”

He smiled softly, then just as quickly, his smile fell. “I just can’t believe how suddenly this came about. Something must be going around; I heard Draco coughing in class yesterday, he must be the one who got you sick.”

You chuckled but were soon thrown into a fit of coughs. The coughing was so bad, you had to sit yourself up in order to catch your breath. 

“Mio dio,” he softly said. “My poor baby.” Theo rubbed your back as you caught your breath. You smiled at him, grateful for his being here. 

“What would I do without you, Theo?” 

He smiled and left a tender kiss on your forehead. The action was so soft and sweet, your eyes involuntarily closed, a soft smile adorning your lips. Theo really was something special. While most may find him to be a brute and hard to get on with, you’d only ever seen the kind, caring boy standing in front of you. 

“The real question,” he replied, “is how could I ever live without you?”

You giggled as Theo led you from your seated position to lay down. 

“You need your rest, sweetheart. Don’t waste all of your energy sitting up.”

You nodded and let Theo guide you down. You sniffled, but all that did was send more mucus to your throat, causing it to hurt worse. A whimper came from your lips without meaning to. 

“What hurts now, dolcezza?” He felt your forehead with the back of his hand, and gently picked up the discarded rag to dunk it in the bucket of ice water on the floor. 

“Just everything: my head, my throat, my nose, it all just sucks,” you said. “At least I have you to take care of me.”

Theo smiled, his eyes alive with love for you. “I’ll always be here to take care of you, even when you’re snotty and coughing on me.” He teased as he wrung out the ice rag and placed it back on your forehead. 

“Hey!” You whined with a teasing smile. “I didn’t cough on you, just in your general direction.”

“Oh, so that’s how we’re describing it, now, huh bella donna?” 

You gave a health-hearted smile and shifted a little in bed. “I don't feel very pretty right now. I’m all snotted up and it feels like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

“I think you look beautiful, (Y/N). Fully and truly, you are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

Your heart swelled. You had the sweetest boyfriend in the world. Theo never failed to make you smile and make you feel beautiful, even when you felt far from it. 

Slowly, as to not hurt the ache in your head, you pushed yourself up into a seated position. 

Theo started to fix the pillows so they would accommodate your upright position. “This okay, amore?”

You smiled down at him. Never had you felt more in love with this boy than you did just then. “It’s perfect, my love. Everything you do is just perfect, Theo. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

A pink hue tinted your boyfriend's cheeks as a smile crept onto his face. “You’re everything to me, (Y/N). I would do anything for you. Something as simple as taking care of you while you’re not feeling good is my job as your lover.” 

You didn’t think your heart could take anymore sweetest from him. “Come ‘ere,” you mumbled as you patted the empty side of the bed. “‘wanna lay with you for a little while.”

Theo walked around the bed and climbed into the empty space. He fit perfectly in the bed, like it was made to accompany him. 

You pushed him to lay down so you could rest your tired head on his chest. He lightly chuckled at your movement, and pulled you close to him. His arms wrapped around you as your fist held onto the fabric of his shirt. 

“I love you, (Y/N),” he mumbled. 

You smiled, closing your eyes. Right before sleep pulled you in, you responded, “I love you most, Theo.”

#something short cause i'm sick so this is very self indulgent hehe #ty all sm for the love on secret admirer #heres more theo for you guys ;) #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theo nott #theodore nott #harry potter #draco malfoy x reader #ron weasley #george weasley #fred weasley #fred weasly x reader #harry potter x reader #ron weasly x reader #cedric diggory #draco mafloy #theodore nott x you #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #enzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire

[narraboths]

“You got anything to tell me about yesterday’s interview, Ponytail?”

Being cornered by one’s editor is rarely a good sign. Being cornered by a harried Snapper Carr one month into her tenure as a rookie reporter would be enough to give others nightmares for a month. Maybe ulcers. Kara, though, she’s been having a great week, and she’s not about to let anyone ruin it.

“Nope.” She pops the p a little. Something about Snapper’s moroseness always pushes her to be spitefully chipper.

“Nothing out of the ordinary?”

“Not at all.”

“Hm.” Snapper nurses the thought with that dour, toothachey look that Kara’s come to learn is directed at her just as much as it is a sign of his general displeasure with the world. He pulls out his phone, jabbing at the screen. “So do you mind explaining to me why my cub reporter is on the front page of every gossip rag from here to Metropolis as the Mystery Blonde Caught in Luthor’s Web?”

That can’t be right is immediately the tip of Kara’s tongue but it freezes there, along with the incredulous laugh threatening to burst out of her, because Snapper is shoving his phone in her face and–

“It’s not what it looks like,” she blurts out, instinctively, then winces at her own choice of words. Great save. “I was just being considerate.”

It’s true, really. She was only holding the door open for Lena as they left L-Corp (Lena was on the move the whole day, they did half of the interview in the back of her Range Rover, flitting between offices), and it only happened that Lena’s hand fell to her forearm, a completely innocent gesture, as innocent as Lena’s smile, as the way she swayed a little closer, saying thank you as she strode by. And sure, Kara may have felt mesmerized for a single, fleeting moment, suddenly so deeply flustered by the gentle weight of Lena’s hand that she almost cracked the door handle in two, but who wouldn’t? Lena Luthor just has a remarkable presence. Why are they letting paparazzi camp out at the L-Corp doorstep, anyways?

“I’ve never seen Luthor that affectionate with anyone.” Snapper eyes Kara suspiciously, his face screaming why you of all people, bumbling rookie who can barely even spell?. “I’ve never seen any of the Luthors affectionate with anyone at all.”

“Guess it’s just my natural charm, sir.” Kara flashes the most annoyingly innocent smile she can, then squares her shoulders. “Did you actually read my article?”

There’s a beat of silence, Snapper staring daggers at her. Then finally, finally, he lets out an annoyed huff.

“Of course I read it. It’s going out first thing tomorrow.” He pockets his phone, then rubs his face with a tired motion. “Make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

“You got it, boss.”

-

It happens again.

It happens again a bunch, really. (Kara at the L-Corp gala, at Lena’s table, the two of them in lively conversation, shoulders pressed together – she was telling me about L-Corp’s new green energy initiative, sir –, the fond smile and almost-teasing tone when Lena calls “yes, Miss Danvers?” at her press conference – she’s just nice! It’s not a crime! –, the candid of them on the CatCo balcony when Lena’s in house for her cover shoot, Kara gesturing excitedly and Lena leaning against the railing, hanging onto every word, a jacket two sizes too big wrapped around her shoulders – you know it gets cold out there. At least there’s no photos of her wrapping the jacket around Lena, their hands brushing together, the faint blush along the lines of Lena’s throat. That’d probably look pretty suspicious.) Snapper’s face takes on increasingly vivid shades of purplish red.

“Do we need to go over the meaning of journalistic integrity again, Danvers?”

Kara decides to take graduating from “Ponytail” as a win.

“We’re not– it’s not anything untoward,” she shoots back, arms crossed, only slightly blushing. In anger, certainly. “I’m doing my job. I grilled her on L-Corp still holding a contract with the government for anti-alien defense systems that Lex negotiated, just last week. There’s footage.”

“Yeah,” Snapper grinds his teeth so vehemently that Kara’s afraid he might crack a crown. “Footage of her hugging you in the hallway afterwards, too. What the hell were you doing?”

“She just thanked me, sir.” The vein on Snapper’s neck looks ready to burst. Kara makes a mental note to recommend meditation at a less belligerent time. “She said my question made it possible for her to make a public stance and really send a message.”

Snapper looks like he’s nearing an aneurysm.

“Hell, Danvers, that sounds even worse!”

It sounded pretty great, actually, Kara thinks, after the borderline unprofessional row they had in Lena’s office when Kara first broached the subject. It felt pretty great, too, not just Lena’s declaration, her renewed commitment to reject everything Lex and Lillian stand for, but the warmth of Lena’s pressed against her, her lips brushing against Kara’s cheek, the low murmur of “you’re such a wonderful friend” in her ear that gave her such a strange shiver. At least that much thankfully escaped the prying eyes and cameras.

“Either I don’t go near her, or CatCo continues to have the leading stories on one of National City’s most high-profile citizens.” She gives Snapper the steeliest look she can muster without letting her heat vision flare up. “And my covers are currently bringing in our biggest numbers. Sir.”

Snapper grinds his teeth again, but his shoulders sag just a touch, and Kara knows she’s won this round.

“You’re on thin ice, Danvers. Back to your desk.”

Kara complies with a grin and a thumbs up, and decides to take a break half an hour later, when Alex forwards her an article titled Bosom Buddies: Lena Luthor Out And About With CatCo Gal Pal with a subtle mix of skull, knife, and eyeroll emojis. She does save one of the photos, though, the one where Lena’s head’s thrown back in adorable, delightful laughter.

-

“Can you explain this one, Danvers?”

Snapper doesn’t look angry this time. No, he’s strangely calm, somewhat elated, even, slamming a whole bundle of newspapers down on her desk, jolting Kara out of her reverie. Half of them are National City publications, Kara vaguely notes, but there’s Metropolis and Gotham and Central City in the mix, too, as if it was the story of the century. Must be a slow news day.

“Of course, sir. I think the proper term is ‘first date’?”

To her greatest surprise, Snapper barks out a laugh, loud and gruff.

“You’re now barred from any future reporting on the Luthors or L-Corp,” he tells her, not without a touch of satisfaction. If Kara hadn’t been walking on sunshine for the past thirteen hours, twenty-eight minutes and forty-one seconds, since the first tentative press of Lena’s lips against her own, she might’ve felt a bit miffed. “Cat Grant’s setting aside a little time later in the afternoon to chew you out personally.”

Kara nods happily along. Withering tones and grim disapproval, the usual spiel, as if anything could dull that buzzing, electrifying feeling coursing through her body since last night, the weightless, feverish joy that grips her every time she thinks of Lena’s last text and everything can’t wait to see you again tonight could possibly entail.

“Yessir.”

“Congratulations, Danvers.” Snapper raps his knuckles against her desk. “Let’s spare each other the heartburn from now on.”

- 

(Kara shows up with a hickey on her neck and the headlines of Lena Luthor Packs PDA With New Girlfriend the next day. Snapper refuses to look her in the eyes for the rest of the week.) 

#supercorp #supercorp fic #my fic

[ervotica]

strange fascination

warnings: dark!ellie williams + dark!abby anderson x reader, noncon, DARK, smut (18+ only), threesome, ellie refers to her strap as a ‘cock’, drugging, tribbing, throat fucking, almost somno, r is fucked with a strap, cunnilingus, fem!reader, 1.5k words

kinktober masterlist

It’s slow at first; the way the world slowly starts to tip on its axis. Your vision swims, halted still only by Abby’s hulking presence in front of you on the ragged couch. You sniff and bat away the blunt in her hand, though your movements are disjointed, like your limbs are filled with molasses, heavy and sticky. One of her thick, calloused hands coasts the length of your arm, an action which would soothe you under normal circumstances. But you don’t feel right.

It’s an uneasiness settled in the pit of your stomach, a churning for which the cause is undetermined.

“Abby,” you mumble; your voice won’t stretch any further.

“Yeah, hon’?”

The door to your shabby one bedroom apartment creaks; your heart ticks, loud in your own ears.

You regain some awareness as Ellie latches the door shut and comes to crouch in front of you on the couch watching amusedly as you tilt your head, legs dangling from the edge of the worn fabric.

“Hi, gorgeous,” she smiles, all teeth and dimples. It’s unlike her to be so chipper.

You’re frowning. You don’t realise you’re even doing it before Ellie’s reaching a slender hand out and smoothing the creases in your forehead out.

“She’s quiet.”

You almost answer before you realise she’s not speaking to you.

The bigger girl’s hand settles on the back of your neck and squeezes. She taps your chin, settling the blunt between your lips once more.

“Have some more, baby.”

You cough and gag around the paper, trying to expel the smoke from your lungs even as the two girls encourage you to take more of it in. By the time she lets up, you’ve slumped, glassy eyed against Abby’s side.

You’d never noticed how she towers above you before now; you’ve never felt so small, so vulnerable in her presence, even more so with the other girl to your left. Ellie’s sidled in now she knows you’re still and compliant, the very point of her nose nudging at your jugular with a fervour you haven’t seen before. She nips at your earlobe and you squirm.

“No, stop,” you slur through your honey sticky mouth and slack jaw. “Don’t wanna.”

“Lift her for me, Abs,” Ellie murmurs; her voice suddenly has an edge that makes you uneasy. You moan in protest, too far away to form any words, let alone stop them. Abby’s fingers curl around the back of your neck, drawing you up and into her chest, her other hand against your bum as she lifts you into her lap.

“I know, honey,” she coos, breathless between rough kisses and nips to your exposed neck. “You wouldn’t let us take care of you sober. You should’ve made it easy for yourself. Silly girl.”

Your eyes grow hot and well, tears gathering at your waterline. How could your best friends do something like this to you? Cold hands grope at your ass, Ellie’s fingers fumbling with the button on your jeans and tugging the taut material down your legs.

“Oh, fuck,” she moans. “You’re so hot, baby.”

You grow hot and clammy with nausea. Your eyes feel like they’ve been superglued shut as you blink, peeling your eyelashes from each other.

“We’re losing her, Ellie,” Abby murmurs, undeterred in her mission to free your tits from your tank top. When they spill free, she twists a nipple meanly and grunts.

“‘S okay,” the slender girl laughs, “Don’t need her awake for this part.”

Your head falls limp, dead weight on Abby’s shoulder as she wrestles the tank top up and over you; she balls it up in her fist, discards it on the floor somewhere. Despite your weakness, you’re painfully aware of what they’re doing to you. You’re a prisoner in your own body.

You’re slumped against the muscular girl somewhat unceremoniously, eyes forced shut as Ellie finally pulls your panties aside to get a good look at your dripping cunt.

“Little whore is a liar!” She grins, triumphant. “She’s fuckin’ soaked. You like it.”

You can’t so much as lift your head to answer. Ellie draws your hips back and pushes between your shoulder blades to create a beautiful arch. You feel her thumbs against the crease of your cunt, spreading your petal soft lips to reveal your dripping hole.

“Attagirl, knew you wanted this,” Ellie murmurs.

Your mind goes blank as two of her fingers disappear, engulfed by your swollen lips. “So wet.”

You want to cry and scream and push them away but no movement will come from your body. Abby hooks her hands under your armpits and lays you flat on the couch.

“Don’t be greedy,” she snaps. “I wanna feel her pussy.”

She crouches, dragging your bare lower half until you’re hanging over the lip of the couch with your legs firmly settled over her shoulders. Her biceps bulge where they’re curled round your thighs.

She wastes no time in licking a broad, flat stripe up the entire expanse of your cunt, nosing at your clit and inhaling deeply.

“Fuck, she tastes good.”

Pleasure lights your every nerve ending on fire despite your protests to the situation. If you could kick her, you would.

She eats you out like she’s been starved of it her entire life, slaking her thirst on the almost constant drooling of your cunt. Despite your limited movement, you’re drawing to your peak with a weak cry, the coil drawing tight in your abdomen until Abby slips two fingers into your fluttering hole and you snap.

She grins like she’s the one going mad with pleasure and Ellie, who was previously pinching and twisting at your nipples until they darkened and swelled, dives forward to kiss you.

You lift a wrist in protest and can’t do much else in your current predicament; her tongue invades your limp mouth, your lips numb as hers glide over them. She pulls away gasping.

“Gonna put my cock in you, sweet girl.” She heaves a breath, unbuttoning her own jeans to reveal the silicone strap at her pelvis. You’re like a fish out of water, squirming and choking back a sob as you try to push her away. Abby hooks an arm under your back and you slump, eyes rolling as the effects of the drugs only increase.

The muscular girl sits and spreads her thighs on the couch to situate you with your back to her chest. Ellie looms, menacing over your helpless body as she drags the tip of her strap through your cunt, catching it on your still sensitive button.

When she pushes in you think you black out. Her forehead beads with sweat, nose inches from yours and breath hot as she immediately locates your sweet spot and pummels it with a force you’re not used to. It’s bruising on your cervix, painful in a way that only increases the pleasure they’re forcing onto you.

Abby reaches forward to tweak at your trembling clit, her other hand clasped firmly around your throat as your head lolls against her shoulder with every thrust.

Your body seizes as white hot pleasure shoots through you; you’re frozen with it, limp as an orgasm unlike any one you’ve ever felt before rips through you.

Your eyes flutter closed with a small cry as Ellie pulls out, spreading your lips as your hole gapes and shrinks at the absence of the strap.

Abby throws you to the side as though you’re useless as she strips herself of her bottom half of clothes; once she’s bare, she’s lifting your thighs to slot her own between them, her clit bumping against yours. It burns, the way she rubs against you so forcefully, still raw and swollen from the last two orgasms the girls have pulled from your slack body.

“Make her suck it,” she grunts, motioning for the slender girl to open your mouth. Ellie does just that, prying your lips open to feed her strap, slick and wet with your juices, down your throat.

Your throat bugles at the intrusion; you gag softly around it, and then with more force as you realise she’s not letting up.

“Fuckkk, look at her face!” Abby moans, pressing her clit to yours even harder as she creeps up on her peak.

Your eyes grow heavier as your vision blacks out at the edges; Ellie only pushes deeper into your throat, thumb pressed to the protrusion it makes.

Abby’s thighs tremble around your own and she soaks you, white knuckled where she’s clutching your knees.

You retch and gurgle around Ellie with one final fight to pull away before she takes pity on you. The spit that’s pooled at the corners of your mouth starts to leak down your face.

“That’s enough.” Abby’s tone is final.

The two girls retreat and pull on their clothes so fast you’d think they were being chased. Ellie crouches next to your ruined body and tips your chin up. You vaguely register a glob of spit hitting you in the face.

“Fuckin’ whore,” she spits. Abby’s eyes darken.

“Have some fuckin’ respect, Williams. Let’s go.”

They leave you there, passed out in a puddle of cum and drool, naked and exhausted.

They’ll be back before you know it.

#urvampgf’s kinktober 2023 #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #writer #writers on tumblr #writing #abby anderson x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellabs x reader #dark!ellie williams #dark!abby anderson #ellie x abby x reader #ellie williams smut #abby anderson smut #tlou smut #dark!tlou #ellie williams fanfic #abby anderson fanfic #ellie smut #abby smut

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

(Dark! LC) Loving You Hurts

Pairing: Dark Luke Castellan x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female reader

SUMMARY: When Luke's jealousy gets out of hand.

WARNINGS: Toxic Relationship. 

--

“We’re having a party tonight. You should come.” the blonde-haired boy walked with you as you collected your breakfast in a tray. 

“I don’t know, Sam, maybe.” you keep your answer short, opting not to indulge into the conversation.

Luke’s stare feels obvious despite the physical distance between you, your boyfriend already seated at a table.

“C’mon, you never really come by anymore, not ever since you got with Luke. I know Clarisse will be thrilled to see you again.” he looked at you with hopeful eyes and you felt bad, knowing you’re letting all of your friends down - hanging out with them less and less. 

“Luke can come too. And Chris, if he wants to.” 

You hesitated for a moment before nodding your head. You seriously doubted Luke would want to go. Sam seemed satisfied enough and after giving you the time and place, he left.  

Stress got trapped in your throat when you walked to the table, taking a seat.

“Who was that guy?” Luke asked you nonchalantly, his eyes following Sam as he walked away. 

“Luke, you know him. He’s my friend.”

“That’s not what I asked.” 

You sighed, fully aware of the interrogation he’s about to put you through. “Ares’ kid. One of Clarisse’s brothers.” 

“What did he want?” 

“Luke…”

“What? I’m just asking what he wanted.” he replies back, his eyes snapping at you with annoyance. “Now I can’t even ask what a strange guy had to say to my girlfriend?”

You stabbed the food in your plate, feeling your eyes becoming watery. 

“He invited us to a party tonight.” 

The scoff you received from Luke was loud enough to draw a few heads in your direction and you quickly captured a few slices of bacon, stuffing them in your mouth. 

“Us? The way he was talking, it seems like he wanted to invite you. Since you’re his friend, right?” his voice had an edge to it, as if daring you to contradict but you stubbornly kept your attention to your food.

If you looked at him - at the angry frown he most certainly had on - you’d end up crying in front of everyone. 

“Luke, please…” you supplicated, “Just let it go, please. I’m not going anyways, okay?”

He looked at you for a long moment, his brown eyes piercing through your soul as he took notice of the tears that were shining in your eyes. His gaze softened, hand reaching for yours.

“Okay.” he said, bringing your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it. “I’m sorry.”

You should’ve known that Luke’s jealous streak would never be able to just let something go. 

Any hopes of forgetting the situation were shattered when in the next day a fight broke loose at the camp. And of course, Luke was at the epicenter. 

You weren’t around but your siblings told how hard Luke punched Sam, which resulted in a broken nose and bloody mess. 

And of course that defending your friend resulted in another argument between you and Luke. 

“Luke, you’re overreacting.” you pleaded, wanting nothing more than tug on your hair with the despair you were feeling. 

“No, you’re being naive. You’re not seeing it the way I see it.”

“I just- I don’t get why you had to do this, Luke!”

“He did this to himself.” he retorted, his hand clenching with anger. “He talked about you, you know? How you deserve someone better.”

Your throat went dry as you gulped. Luke took a step towards you, murderous anger plastered in his face. 

“You say he’s just a friend, but I know he wants more than that.” he spited the words, inching closer to you. “He wants to take my place. To be the one you love. But I’m not gonna let that happen, okay?” 

His words dimmed into a hushed whisper as he pressed his forehead against yours, his ragged breaths contrasting with your lack of breathing as you held your breath.

“Luke…” 

“I won’t let you go. We’re meant to be together, I know it.” he pressed a light kiss on your hairline, ignoring the single tear that escaped your eye.

“And if I have to kill whoever gets in our way, then so be it.”

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #yandere x reader #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #dark luke castellan #dark luke castellan x reader #yandere luke castellan #yandere luke castellan x reader

[slashersidewhore]

Slashers! HC how you first meet them pt.2

Slashers x f!reader

Includes Bubba Sawyer, Bo Sinclair, Art The Clown, Stu Macher

Warnings: mentions of murder/violence, some stalking/harassment (not by slashers), ill intentions, pre-relationships, reader is a bit self deprecating, shitty friends

Bubba Sawyer

Of course you’d been dragged on a girls trip, and of course the minute the engine blew in you were shoved from the back seat onto the side of the dusty, gravel road, laughed at and told, “go find a mechanic”

God forbid your so called friends, which now you were rethinking the decision to even be here and with them, chose somewhere to travel where there was actual cell service

So here you now were, standing on an old porch that you weren’t even sure was properly attached to the house barely kept upright and covered in chipped paint

“Hello?”

A few more knocks on the creaky front door echoed out before your patience ran out, turning the handle and finding it to be unlocked

“Uh, hello? If I’m breaking and entering just let me know but this place seems abandoned”

You cupped your mouth and spoke, just to cover all your bases in case you were actually entering someone’s home, although the cobwebbed walls and moth bitten carpet spoke otherwise

“This isn’t creepy at all…”

Wandering aimlessly through the houses threshold, you searched for something that you help back on the road where all your friends were waiting

Or maybe you were just hoping this would buy you time before you had to walk 4 miles back to tell them you came up with nothing, no mechanic, no help

Your eyes glanced across the room, taking in all the items scattered about, some miscellaneous and some meticulously placed

Then your curious gaze landed on an ash tray sitting beside a moldy plate of what looked like some kind of meat

Although the fluffy possibly-poultry wasn’t what alarmed you, the smoke filtering from the end of a half smoked cigarette resting on it did

“Boys, we’ve got a fresh one”

A deep voice hollered, a rough palmed and smelly hand slapping over your mouth to muffle the hale scream that had popped from your lungs due to shock

Before you could even think to fight against the obviously strong body pinned to yours, you were being dragged towards an open basement door and thrown down the narrow, wooden staircase like a rag doll

“Take care of er’ will ya?”

The voice of your captor yelled down from the top step, slamming the door behind himself and surely locking it in the process

Disoriented and nurses a now slight headache, you mustered the energy to prop yourself up, hazy eyes bouncing about the room before they landed on what could only be described as a large, terrifying figure standing a few yards away

He wore a stained and tattered apron, brown stains you were hoping were dirt and not dried old blood

One hand gripped a cleaver, whatever he was chopping up before you entered the basement sat mutilated on a work bench, the stench of iron heavy in the air

Despite all that, the man seemed frozen, staring back at you through the eye holes in a poorly sew together mask

“I didn’t even wanna be here,”

You started before you I could stop yourself

“My so called friends dragged me out of my room a few days ago for a last minute road trip, and of course when one of them decided to bring their fuck ass car without checking it out first, it literally gave up on itself and then I get sent out to look for help but guess what! We’re in the middle of nowhere so I found this house and well it’s your house so that’s just my luck”

The man only blinked, body language clearly taken aback that you weren’t screaming bloody murder

“Just, if you’re gonna kill me, can you at least knock me out first so it doesn’t hurt?”

A loud knock at the door startled the two of you, followed by the man from earlier noisily coming down the stairs

“Why haven’t you taken care of er’ yet bubba?”

The man didn’t yell but he definitely sounded upset by this turn of events

The other man, who you now knew was called Bubba, shuffled awkwardly in his spot, rubbing the back of his head before robotically motioning to you, still sat on the floor

“You like er’ huh?

You watched the exchange quietly, although unable to contain the confusion set on you’d features

“Fine, but she’s yours to deal with, you remember what happened last time we took in a stray”

At that you pointedly turned around, staring up at the man that regarded you in terms like you were a dog

“Well I’m not a stray, technically you kidnapped me-“

Bo Sinclair

You weren’t entirely sure how you ended up in this seemingly abandoned town, one minute you were checking the map for your exit and then you missed it

Now you were here, coming to a stop as you realized you needed gas and weren’t anywhere near the hotel you had booked for the night

You definitely weren’t getting the rooms deposit back

Pulling into an empty parking lot, you pulled your phone from the passenger seat only to come up dry when the cell service was next to nothing

Then, before you could warn your heart not to jump out of your chest, a knock on your side window pulled a startled yelp from your throat

A man, not too old but not young either, stood on the other side of the car door, neutral expression morphing into a cheesy smile when your gaze met his and exchanged a few seconds of awkward, panicked staring

Brows raising in realization that the stranger, while sketchy and probably holstering a gun, could maybe help you figure out where you were and where to go

Opening the creaking door to your vehicle you pocketed your pepper spray just in case before hoping out of your seat and into the chilly night air

“You lost?”

“No, I intentionally ran out of gas in the middle of nowhere”

The man chuckled, albeit seeming taken aback by the brash sarcasm about your current situation

“Well good thing you ran into me, little lady”

The man who still carried about like this predicament was the most normal in the world smiled wider when your face pinched up in confusion, placing an open palm out to you

“I’m Bo, and you are, darlin?”

“Someone who knows not to shake hands with a complete stranger”

“Feisty”

“Oh, I’m getting there”

Despite the night breeze tickling the hairs on the back of your neck, you couldn’t help but enjoy the slight banter you were getting into

Although probably dangerous and wildly crazy to be out so late just walking around, this Bo character as charming, and something about his stare was growing increasingly comforting

“You know people don’t usually show up here, especially at night, all alone”

“But do they at least have gas in their tank? Because that’s already one up on me”

Bo threw his head back, whipping his hat off to push back the hair that fell towards his forehead in the fit of deep chuckles

“I’m normally not too inclined towards outsiders, but if you’d like a room for the night, I’d be happy to oblige little lady”

Art the clown

You strode through an alleyway, hands in your jacket pockets as you made your way back home

It was just your luck that the last night plans your friends picked for Halloween happened to be a party at the house of a guy you don’t even know

Especially your luck when only 20 minutes in you were all already abandoned, you’d ride gone and with it your phone charger

Thus, you nursed a bruised ego in a pirate costume, clutching your phone with one hand even though the battery was lost past dead

“Hey you!”

A distinctly male baritone called out from behind, you sped up not bothering to turn and face whatever stranger wanted a late night chat in the middle of an empty, dark alley

“Well that’s not very nice!”

The man responded to himself, deep chuckle furrowing worry lines between your brows

Just your luck, just your damn luck

Turning the corner to what could be described as more favorable to due the abundance of street lights and open space, the lack of people still has your nerves on overdrive

That was until you nearly ran smack into a body around the corner

Although expecting a gasp in surprise or shout in anger, all you received was a shocked expression, one such as a mime would use

Whoever this man was, was clearly wearing a very intricate costume, clown makeup done to the 9’s and a fully tailored suit to match, with a hefty, tan bag slung over one shoulder

All of your courage of wanting to leave this awful situation, and fear of what would happen if you didn’t took hold, before you knew it you were panicked and leaning forward, watching with just as much curiosity as the clown eyed you

“Listen you don’t know me, but there’s this guy following me and if you could just pretend to be, I don’t know, a friend, I would appreciate it”

The clown seemed to understand immediately, bright grin tossed on his features as the stranger that had previously had your full attention came to a stuttering halt

“Lady, I was talking to you back there”

“Oh! Sorry I just was meeting with someone and well, here they are!”

You laughed nervously, awkwardly leaning into the clown and patting at his shoulder, gazing at the stranger, you saw a look of terror cross his face right as he stumbled back a bit

“Yeah, got it”

And then he was high tailing it back the way he came

Glancing back at the costumed man you stood alone with, you caught how his face held a look of something utterly terrifying before he caught your eye, cheesy grin returning

“Thanks..”

You questioned for his name, grinning softly at the way realization of your ask spread across his face

Hand motions went left and up, down and right, then he paused, pulling the bag from his shoulder to rummage through it, pulling out what could only be described as junk, metal and rusty and junk none the less

Although the way he motioned to the item, placed it in your open palms and played a scene before you, you took to guessing

“Metal?”

“Sculpture…?”

He moved his fingers like a painter would stroke a canvas

“Art?”

That single word had the clown clapping his hands, tucking his body with a faux bow like you’d discovered something only a genius could

Laughing something genuine for the first time that night, you pondered if you should just take your chances and leave for home, or stick around a bit more with this concerning but most definitely interesting person

“So.. what else do you have in that bag?”

Stu Macher

Being the new student in a town where everyone already had friends, or at least those they only socialized with, was difficult

You’d only been here a week or so and you already wanted to move again, alas, that wasn’t exactly up to you

All you could do was hold your head high, and suck up the annoying situation you’d been tossed into

Now, a new school was bad enough, imagine your surprise would you found out there had recently been a string of grisly murders, unsolved and rampaging

Which is why you’d been an outcast since you’d appeared, like they all assumed it must be you, the murders starting, you arriving, it all was too much of a coincidence, despite the fact that it was

“Look at her, I’m telling you that girl gives off crazy”

Off handed comments like those weren’t unusual, yet today, after switching to a new class because of this exact issue, you’d had enough

“I bet she’s the killer”

“Oh yeah? And what’s your evidence?”

The girl gossiping with her friend abruptly stopped her ‘private’ conversation when she heard your quip

“Excuse me?”

You stood, in fact you stood so fast it made the chair screech across the floor, catching the attention of the rest of class

Luckily the teacher had stepped out and you could finally say what you needed without worry of authority looming over

“You know, if I’m supposedly killing students, like you say I am, why so proudly speak about it around me?”

You strode up to her desk, arms crossed with a look of disdain

She seemed taken aback, lips moving like a fish and head bobbing as she glanced between you and her friend

“Well, I-“

“If you really think I’m doing all this, why would you piss me off?”

The girl was at a loss, face paling as you simply said what you needed, before turning and grabbing your bag right as the bell went off, students funneling out behind you

Opening your locker, you startled when a body came crashing into the locker beside yours, arms crossed and looking at you with squinted eyes yet a wide grin

“So you’re the new girl?”

He wasn’t half bad looking, in fact, you found yourself heating up the longer he gazed down at you

He had this odd air about him, like someone holding too many secrets and hiding them far too out in the open, something that only seemed to allure you further

“And a murderer, haven’t you heard?”

You joked, taking out your next classes books before shutting the locker, the look on this guys face was utter curiosity, something you hadn’t received yet while being here

“Of course, just let me know what days you spree so I can avoid staying in”

Not gonna lie to y’all, I was so focused on getting this posted I haven’t spell checked or done a once over, there will and most likely are errors!

#slasher #slasher x reader #art the clown #art the clown x reader #stu macher #stu macher x reader #bubba sawyer #bubba sawyer x reader #Bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #slasher x y/n #slasher x you #slashersidewhore #slashersidewhore fics

[togrowoldinv]

Pour Me

Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

You meet an intriguing woman while you’re bartending

Note: This is a quick little fic about milf Wanda because I love her lol. Enjoy it!

Wanda Maximoff Masterlist, Main Masterlist

You never expected to meet the love of your life this way. You never thought that the woman of your dreams would walk through the door as you poured drinks behind the bar.

But there she was. She had a quiet reserve about her. The friends that were with her were the ones who spoke to you first.

“This one here,” a redheaded woman said, “just got a divorce. We’re pouring them out for her.”

“Yeah, so pour them strong!” a blonde woman added.

“Can do, ladies,” you said.

You poured their drinks, and they tipped you. It pays when pretty girls come to the bar almost as much as it does when men do. But you much prefer when women come in. The other women walked away and left you alone with the woman at the bar.

“I’m sorry about your divorce,” you told her.

“It’s okay,” she said. You thought you picked up on a slight accent. It’s intriguing. “I’m better off.”

“I’m sure you are, ma’am. I didn’t get your drink order. What would you like?”

“Oh, um- what do you suggest?” She asked.

“I’ve got just the thing,” you said.

She watched as you got to work behind the bar fixing her a drink. It was what you always made when someone didn’t know what they wanted. Nothing special, but she sipped it like it was heaven in a glass.

When you asked her if she wanted another one, she said no. Her friends had convinced her to go out, and she didn’t really like to drink all that much.

“Your friends might end up shutting this place down,” you said to her.

The beautiful woman looked around and back at you. She smiled shyly.

“I’ll tell them we need to go,” she said, grabbing her purse.

“Oh, no you can stay,” you said. “I just need to start cleaning the bar up and I didn’t want you to wonder why.”

“Well, what if I help you?” She asked.

“I couldn’t allow you to help, ma’am. It’s my job,” you said.

“Oh, please it’s nothing. I’ve got two boys at home, so cleaning is my forte.”

“Come on over then,” you said, a smile on your face.

You walked to the open slot in the bar where you let the woman inside. She smiled as she took a rag and wiped the counter with you. She helped you clean for almost an hour before you asked her to help you restock the bar.

“It’s nice back here,” she said, admiring the office you built.

“I designed it myself,” you told her.

“I’m impressed.”

You picked up some crates filled with bottles and the woman watched the way your arms flexed under the weight of them. Really, she had been watching you all night.

“So, how old are your boys?” You asked her, trying to make small talk as she watched you move crates from the office to the bar.

“Ten,” she said. “They’re twins.”

“That’s so cool!” You said.

She grinned and showed you a few pictures of the boys. They looked like her and you couldn’t help but feel like you knew her already.

After you finished with the crates, you leaned against your desk. The woman looked at you intently.

“I should probably get back out there and close the bar,” you said, breaking the silence.

“Oh right,” she said.

You stood up and walked past the woman, but she grabbed your hand. You looked back at her and she looked like she could cry.

“Are you okay?” You asked her.

“Could you- would you- forget it,” she said, pulling her hand away.

“Hey, what is it?” You asked. You have gotten some odd requests working at a bar, but nothing this woman could say to you would be the craziest.

“Would you kiss me?” She asked.

“Oh, I don’t know if I should,” you said.

“Right. Of course. I’m sorry,” she tried to leave the room, but you grabbed her hand this time and pulled her back into your arms.

You looked into each other’s eyes before you leaned in and kissed the woman. The bar noise faded out and the only thing you could feel was her lips against yours. Her sweet, soft lips. You wondered how anyone could ever lose her, and when was the last time she was kissed like this. She was perfect.

The kiss ended when the woman’s friends knocked on the door to your office.

“I should drive them home,” the woman said.

“Ah, you’re right. It was nice to meet you,” you waited for her to fill in her name.

“Wanda,” the woman said. “I’m Wanda.”

“Y/n,” you supplied.

“Y/n,” she tried it out her tongue. Her friends called for her again. “Thank you for tonight. Really.”

“Sure,” you said. You opened the door for her, and her friends pulled her into their arms.  “Hey Wanda, come back sometime?”

“I will,” she promised, a glint in her eye.

And she did come back. She came back every weekend for three months before you asked her out.

And she stands across from you now three years later ready to become your wife. You thank goodness she walked into the bar that night.

#wanda maximoff x reader #milf!wanda #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff comfort #wanda maximoff smut

[rainydaydreamsideblog]

(The Maze Runner) Imagine: He Protects You

It can be dangerous, especially for the only girl in the Glade.

Warnings: Guys being creeps in the Glade (nothing graphic), bullying, the Maze, danger.

. . .Thomas. . .

It’s a beautiful evening in the Glade.  You’re walking straight along the treeline on your way to run a final errand for Alby at the end of the day.  The sun is no longer visible, as it already descended far enough to be blocked by the walls.

Suddenly, you get the creeps.  It was hard to explain, but you feel goosebumps bloom along your skin, and you get the distinct feeling that you’re not alone.  The lovely glow of the bonfire is in your field of vision, but it’s so far away. It’s where most of the guys are gathered.  You can hear their distant whoops and hollers, reminding you that help is far away too.

A twig snaps, and your suspicions are confirmed.  There’s a figure following several feet behind you, lurking in the shadows cast from the trees above.

So, you veer off your original path to draw closer to the homestead where there would hopefully be someone who hadn’t made it to the bonfire yet.  Whoever it was must have caught on to what you were doing because they instantly pick up their pace.  You begin to hurry, increasing your speed so that they can’t catch you before you make it to what you hope will be a haven of safety.

Your heart is pounding, and your chest heaving with panicked breaths as you finally make it to the homestead.  

“Hello?” you call frantically.  

Suddenly, Thomas appears.  He sees your nervous state immediately, his hand taking yours.  But then his eyes lock onto something behind you, and he moves right past you to intercept your pursuer, effectively blocking them from you.

“What’s going on?” he demands.  Your follower is frozen to the spot, stuttering, failing miserably to offer up some sort of explanation.  Thomas steps forward, towering over the guy.  It’s plain to see that he is furious.  His forearms flex and his jaw is clenched.  You can hear his angry breaths as he speaks again.  “That’s what I thought.  Now, get out of here.”

As soon as the guy is gone, Thomas turns around to face you.  His close presence eases your fearful state when he steps into your space, filling your nose with his scent. “You okay?” he asks gently.

You manage a nod.

“We’re going to tell Alby right away.  This isn’t going to happen to you again.  Come here…” He carefully pulls you into his arms for an embrace, as if you’ll break apart if he’s too sudden. You bury your face in his chest, breathing a sigh of relief.  His heartbeat is close to your ears, like a lullaby.

“Thank you…” you whispered.

. . . Newt . . .

You couldn’t take it anymore.

The teasing, the taunts… The inability of certain individuals to just leave you alone.  Ever since you’d rejected him, Allan had made it his life’s mission to make your existence in the Glade all the more difficult.

Most recently, he had purposely bumped into you at lunchtime so that your meal was spilled all over your clothes and onto the ground.  Resources were limited in the Glade.  It was understood that wastefulness wouldn’t be tolerated.  You couldn’t afford to lose food or have clothing ruined.  Fortunately, your clothes would be fine after a wash, but the discarded food was a different story.

You dab at your tank top with a washcloth and pause to look at your reflection in the mirror.  It was all too easy to recall how quickly you’d reached your limit after Allan’s ridiculous ploy.  Your face is still wet from crying, eyes puffy, and lips parted as you took deep breaths.

There’s no use crying over spilled milk, you thought. Or in my case, spilled lunch.

After composing yourself, you decide it’s time to go back out there and face the music. You toss the damp rag aside and march determinedly out of the empty washroom.  To your surprise, you smack right into another individual coming in.  You instantly recognize the blonde hair and grumbles of complaint as he reels from the collision.

“Oi, shank, watch where you’re going-”  Newt quickly realizes it’s you and clamps his mouth shut, extending his hands to each of your shoulders to steady you gently.  He takes in the sight of your tear-stained face with his eyes showing clear concern.  “Hey, what’s gotten into you?”

“Oh, just… Nothing. It’s nothing.”

Newt looks far from convinced, and you lower your gaze.  He’s about to inquire further, but a familiar voice sounds from outside the washroom.

“Hey, _______!” Allan calls tauntingly, making you freeze up.  “How’s it going in there?”

Newt’s eyes instantly flash, and his face scrunches up anger.  You can hardly believe it when Allan continues.

“Sorry about my clumsiness earlier.  Maybe I can make it up to you.  Come on out before I go in there!”

Newt can’t contain himself anymore.  He turns on his heel and heads out of the washroom, and you follow behind just to see the look on Allan’s face when he realizes he’s been caught.

It is so worth it.  Allan’s stupid grin falls hard into a look of horror as the Second-in-Command approaches him furiously.  He doesn’t lay a hand on him, but he looks like he’s awfully close when he jabs a pointer finger in his direction.

“If I ever catch you bothering her, or even breathing in her general direction again, you’ll be a permanent Slopper for the rest of your time here in the Glade.  Do you understand, shank?”

Allan nods quickly, and doesn’t even wait to be dismissed.  He just hurries away, leaving you and Newt both standing there watching him flee.

“Coward,” he mumbles.  Then, Newt turns to you, resting a hand on your arm in a comforting gesture.  “I mean it, you know.  He’ll never bother you again.”

. . . Minho . . .

It’s hard not to panic when you glance up and can no longer see the sun above you. It’s the end of the day, and you’re nearly out of time.  The lightning pain that shoots through your ankle suddenly just becomes too much.  You lean against one of the ivy-covered walls and exhale.

“I don’t think I’m going to make it,” you say aloud, and the words weigh heavily on you.  You mentally scold yourself.  You can’t afford to think that way.  A Runner knows better.  With a wince, you continue limping on your way.  It’s not that the exit from the Maze isn’t close.  If memory serves you right (which it did), it wasn’t too far at all… but at your pace, it would take a lot of effort and some good luck to get you back in time.

Just when you are about to give up again, you hear footsteps rapidly approaching.  Your first thought is that perhaps your cowardly companion had a change of heart, but the footsteps didn’t match.

“Hello?” you call.

“_________!” Minho’s voice responds, and your heart swells with hope.  You aren’t out of the woods just yet, but your chances were much better with help. Minho nearly slides to a stop in front of you, instantly taking your arm and putting it around his broad shoulders to help you up.  There is no time to stop and compare notes, so you update him as he begins helping you back along the path.

“I sprained my ankle.” You hold onto Minho like he’s your lifeline as you push through the pain to keep up with his pace.  He’s right to go so fast.  Time is running out.

“Where’s Derek?” he asks with a grunt.

“He…he left me,” you gasp in pain.  “I think he was worried he wouldn’t make it out in time if he helped me.”

Minho goes quiet for a moment, and you can practically feel the anger rolling off him in waves.  His eyes are focused straight ahead at the path, and he huffs.  Finally, he bites out a sarcastic comment. “I think it’s safe to say that he’s getting demoted from being a Runner.”

You keep talking, trying to distract the both of you from the familiar groan of the Maze walls shifting.  “Why did you come out here?”

“Because it was getting late in the day, and no one had seen you,” he pants.  “Usually, you check in with me right away.  I knew something had to be wrong.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.”

You continue limping with all your might toward the gate, feeling your heart jump, as the walls on either side begin their agonizingly slow crawl to a close.  There’s a small group standing on the other side, ushering you both out anxiously.  It was mostly Keepers, a select few who had been informed of the problem by Minho.

The two of you fell onto the green grass, gasping for breath, while the others surrounded you.  Alby knelt down beside you, resting a hand on your shoulder.  You just let yourself breathe, tears welling up in your eyes from relief.

“So it’s true?” Gally questioned, brows raised.  “Derek left her in there.” “Yes,” Minho replied, sitting up.  “And he will face the consequences.”  He looked over at you, finally catching his breath.  “You’re safe now.”

. . . Gally . . .

James had been haunting your steps for far too long.  He was always there, always hanging around, and sometimes showing up at the most alarming of instances.  What could be done about it?  It wasn’t as if he’d taken severe enough action to warrant disciplinary measures, you thought.  He was only ever seen staring at you, smirking, and just being an all-around jerk at times.

This time, he’d snatched your tools away from your working station while your back was turned. After uncovering a particularly tough old root, you turned around to get a spade to chop it up, only to see that your things were gone.

A few laughs caught your attention, and you glanced over to see James and one of his shadows standing there, staring at you from several feet away.  You couldn’t say for certain, but it seemed like they had something to do with your missing tools.

So, now you’re debating with yourself on the best course of action.  Do you ignore him and try to rustle up some extra tools from Newt or Zart?  Or do you bother to give this shank the attention he’s so desperately seeking to get your stuff back?

You don’t really like the latter option.  Frankly, James gives you the creeps. The last thing you want is to play his little game… But every minute that you spend deliberating is wasted time that could be put towards helping the Glade.

As much as you despise indulging him, you find yourself marching right over to his work area.  Both James and his minion are laughing in amusement, shoving each other at the sight of you approaching.

“Do you know where my tools went?” you ask, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“I might,” James replies cryptically.  “And I might be willing to strike up a bargain for that information.”

You fold your arms across your chest.  “What could you possibly want?”

“Ohh, I don’t know…Perhaps a kiss will do.”

You make a face as the disgust hits you.  “Seriously?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?”

“Yeah, that’s going to be a ‘no’ for me.”  You wave off the concept, turning around.  You decided that your best bet is to find some spare tools.  This just wasn’t worth all the trouble.  Just as you start to leave, James comes running around to block you.

“Hey now, I didn’t say you could go.”

“Yeah, you might want to think about his offer,” James’ lackey said from behind you.  The two of them close in, and you clench your fists in preparation to fight.  If you make enough commotion, you’re sure that someone will notice and come to your aid.

You give him one last chance.  “Let me pass.”

“Come on, just one kiss.  Unless you want more than one after that-” to your relief, James is cut off by a new voice interjecting.

“What’s going on here?” The three of you turn to see Gally standing there, sweating from whatever project he was working on,with dirt and wood shavings on his clothes.  His expression looks expectant as he waits for an explanation, though his tall and bulky form makes him appear positively dangerous as he stares the two guys down with his hands resting on his hips.

“I, uh.. We…”  They break off in stutters and fumbled words.

“I’m fairly certain they have my tools,” you say, and Gally’s famous arched brows raise at the two guys in disbelief.

“Is that so?” As Gally walks forward, he plants his palms harshly on James’ shoulder, shoving him clear out of the way. James stumbles unceremoniously, almost falling straight into the grass.  Gally walks over to the bench and pauses.  He picks up a bundle of leather and tosses it to you, the tools rattling inside.  “Are those yours?”

You recognize it immediately.  “Yes, these are the ones.”

“You shanks had better never even speak to her again.  Understand?” He stares at each of them pointedly with all the authority of a Keeper, and they both nod.  With that, Gally walks up to you and ushers you away with a warm, gentle hand on your back protectively.

“Your timing was impeccable,” you say quietly.  “Thank you.”

“They won’t bother you again.  I’ll make sure of it.”

“I think you already have,” you chuckle.

#maze runner #maze runner imagine #maze runner reader insert #maze runner x reader #gally x reader #minho x reader #newt x reader #thomas x reader #the maze runner #maze runner gally #maze runner newt #maze runner thomas #maze runner minho #minho imagine #thomas imagine #gally imagine #newt imagine #maze runner fanfiction #tmr #tmr reader insert #tmr newt #tmr thomas #tmr minho #tmr gally #tmr x reader

[stsgluver]

synopsis. zenin naoya and his lack of respect for women. [part of the dynasty series]

wc. 970

tags/warnings. rich boy!gojo, idk what else, zenin naoya exists, established relationship

a/n. i switch between present and past (like five mins prior) throughout BUT IF IT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE PLS LET ME KNOW. this has been sat in drafts for 2 months.

“i wouldn’t have stopped you from punching him.”

gojo scoffed, pushing his hands through his hair frustratedly. the two of you sat together on the cold stone steps outside of some large historic building. 

“i don’t think i would’ve stopped,” he let out a ragged breath and you rested one of your hands on his knee. his fingers naturally came to intertwine with yours and you think you saw his shoulders relax ever so slightly at the contact.

a silence settled between you, but it wasn't an awkward one. your boyfriend was reliving the last hour and you were doing your best to try and forget it.

“is he always like that?” you asked quietly. the he in question being zen’in naoya. 

this was the first event that you had attended with gojo, and the first event gojo had ever attended with an actual date. he’d always turned down all of the girls his father offered to him (the children of other tech ceo’s that his father was encouraging him to get close to only for the benefit of his own bank account) and he’d never had a real girlfriend to bring prior to you.

“unfortunately,” he hummed quietly, brushing his thumb over your knuckles lightly. you shivered from the cool breeze and dared to shuffle closer to him. 

you’d experienced many sides of gojo since you’d begun your relationship, but never had you seen him so irritated that he couldn’t verbally communicate it. he was the one who annoyed people to the brink of insanity, with his cocky remarks and over-the-top, excitable behaviour. few people had ever tried to one up him, and even fewer were successful in managing to get under his skin.

zenin naoya, though, loved the challenge.

“do you think your dad will mind if we’re out here?” you asked tentatively. gojo’s hand reflexively tightened briefly around yours at the mention of his father, his jaw clenching. 

several minutes after gojo had led you inside the elegant infrastructure (to say you were getting imposter syndrome was an understatement), he’d left you by a confectionery stand in search of geto. according to him, you looked ‘too pretty’ and he didn’t want your dress to be ruined in the crowds. in other words, the less you mingled, the less likely you’d be harassed by his father’s rich peers – he’d already ‘accidentally’ knocked one drink over onto a woman who dared to hiss the word ‘gold digger’ under her breath as you passed.

it had to have been less than thirty seconds before the zenin appeared by your side, a sickening smirk on his twisted face. you knew who he was, you’d seen him once or twice around campus and you’d heard the stories, but you’d never been this close to him; not close enough to breath in the expensive cologne that smellt cheap.

“probably,” he clicked his tongue, tilting his head back to look up at the night sky.  “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have brought you here.”

you nudged his shoulder gently, “i wanted to come.”

a mistake on both of your behalf – though neither of you could have predicted that naoya would try and make a scene when you rejected his advances.

"you two alright?" 

both of you turned your heads back to see geto coming down the stairs towards you with a little skip in his step.

once naoya had your attention he wasted no time getting to his point – bigging up his status and telling you how gojo’s dad was doubting gojo’s position in the company. if you wanted a real man, in his words, you needed him. 

obviously, you’d given him a disgusted look without much thought and denied the offer, taking a step back to try and find your tall, white haired boyfriend in the crowd (an oddly difficult task). you figured you were safer weaving through a crowd of high society snobs than you were spending another minute here. naoya, though, was persistent and didn’t hesitate to pull you back towards him with a harsh grip.

"just trying not to bash that zen'in's skull in," gojo muttered as he gently traced the red marks on your wrist. it looked worse than it felt – the pain had dissipated pretty quickly once you’d broken from naoya’s hold.

"i could get on board with that," the dark haired male dropped down next to you on the stairs, stretching out his legs and smoothing down his pants.

"geto.” 

you figured out pretty quickly that gojo and geto were a package deal. best friends since diapers and equally as resentful to their parents’ ways of life and the pretence they’ve been raised in. two sides of the same coin, both of which willing to go extraordinary lengths for the other with no regard for consequences.

such as the jail time that would come with the aggravated assault of naoya.

though you would give it to geto – when gojo and him got to you and naoya, it was him who was ushering gojo to just take you outside, not to engage with the spoiled man child. 

“geto,” geto mocked you with a grin, shrugging carelessly, "the kid’s an ass. he’s got it coming."

there was no more than a second until geto spoke up again, with an idea you were sure he’d had from the beginning of the night, his plans had just been accelerated: “shoko’s house is free now. her parents are away so she wasn’t forced to attend this bullshit,”

gojo’s head perked up at this, looking above your head at his best friend, “you think she’ll have the stuff for a smoke?”

“it’s ieiri,” you said in a ‘duh’ tone because when was she not smoking something. how she was top of her classes, you’d never know.

“god bless that girl,” geto blew a kiss to the sky.

taglist. @hyori2 @ja-zz @animeflower26 @jar-03

#dynasty #rich boy!au #rich boy!gojo #gojo x reader #gojo #gojo satoru #gojo drabbles #gojo fluff #gojo imagines

[birdiewriteslit]

Hi ! I just love your writing ! ❤️ Also, I was wondering if you could write a story in which the reader is Thalia’s sister and dating Luke. The reader always thought that Luke liked Thalia and thinks that Luke only dates her because she reminds him of Thalia. She shares her doubts with Annabeth who tries to comfort her and Luke overhears their conversation. Then Luke talks to the reader about it reassuring he loves her for her and it’s all fluffy. Also, to add little angst, the reader has been traumatized by Thalia’s “transformation” and beats herself up thinking that it’s her fault that her sister is a tree.

thank you so much! sure, i can do this!!

luke castellan x daughter of zeus!reader

warnings: angst, self doubt, trauma, fluff at the end

sorry if this is bad i haven’t written angst in a hot minute

Your memory of the day you arrived at camp was still as vivid as it was when it happened. You, Grover, Annabeth, Luke, and your little sister were on the run from a horde of monsters, all of them attracted to the strong scent of the daughters of Zeus.

You were sprinting up the hill, breath ragged. Luke, Annabeth, and Grover were ahead of you. “We’re almost there!” Grover shouted. “Just keep running!”

You were exhausted, running for days with no help from any of your godly parents, but you had to keep going.

You looked back to make sure Thalia hadn’t fallen behind, but she had her shield up, showing Medusa’s face to the monsters that were catching up.

“We can’t outrun them!” she yelled. “I can slow them down, go on without me!”

Thalia started to run toward the monsters, but you grabbed her arm. “I can’t let you go. We can make it, please try to keep going.”

“I have to! Aegis will keep them at bay for a little while. It’s me they’re following,” she reasoned, her eyes stormy and unyielding.

“Thalia, don’t. They want me too. I’ll go instead, I won’t let you die for me,” you proposed desperately.

“You’re always doing things for me, let me do this for you. Let me repay my big sister.” She pulled her arm out of your grasp and turned to run at the monsters before you could stop her.

“Come on!” Grover yelled from the top of the hill, Annabeth and Luke now far in front of him. “They’re catching up!”

“I’m not leaving her!” you protested. Grover met you in the middle and grabbed hold of your arm, practically dragging you to camp as you shouted several curses at him. “Let me go!”

“I can’t. My mission is to get you across that border, and I’m not letting two of you die for the rest of us.” Grover was gritting his teeth, struggling to keep hold of you as you made it across the boundary.

You watched in horror as Thalia jabbed with her spear and missed, the Fury’s whip coming down hard and hitting her over the head, knocking her to the ground. She didn’t get up.

The biggest lightning bolt you’d ever seen struck the ground, sending the hellhounds into a panic. The monsters retreated, half victorious, as they only managed to kill one of you.

From the place where Thalia died, a large pine was growing rapidly out of the ground, and a magical force field spread across the woods, strengthening the border you just crossed.

Luke grabbed your shoulder, forcing you to turn away from the scene. His eyes were cast to the ground. He couldn’t look. “Come on,” he said, his voice breaking.

You walked past the strawberry fields with Luke’s arm around your shoulders keeping you stable. You couldn’t say anything. You knew that if you did, you would break down.

Annabeth was sobbing beside Grover, who was leading the three of you to the Big House, where Chiron stood on the porch, looking solemn. You weren’t even shocked by his centaur form. The image of Thalia’s body hitting the ground was still replaying in your mind.

You woke with a start, sweating profusely and breathing heavily. Five years later, and you still had nightmares like this. It was always the same scene over and over. You could never escape that night.

You slowly sat up in your bed, pulling the covers back and placing your feet on the cold marble floor. You rubbed at your eyes, sighing as you knelt at your father’s statue in the middle of the cabin.

You never shared this space with Thalia, but you missed her like you had. Sometimes you would dream of her and you when you were small, and you would expect to wake up and see her asleep on the other side of the room.

You stared into the reflecting pool around the statue, barely recognizing who was looking back at you. The girl in the water was tired, and she looked like she hadn’t slept in days.

Looking up at your father’s carved face, you felt that familiar feeling of resentment. He had never helped you. When you were on the run, the only gift he gave was weapons for you and Thalia to defend yourselves with.

After you were claimed, it was like you never existed to him. He never answered your prayers, and he was never there for you when you needed him.

When you needed help facing Ladon on Luke’s quest, he was absent from the sky. You were forced to return to camp, two failures who learned to never rely the gods for help.

Luke was the only one you could relate to in that way. After that quest, you thought of each other differently. Finding that common ground changed your friendship into something more.

Sometimes you wondered if Luke saw Thalia when he looked at you. There would be moments where he would look at you like your sister was staring back, and he would get this sad glint in his eyes.

You certainly didn’t see her in your reflection. You’d looked for so long to find something that reminded you of her, but you could never find something good.

You had an aggression problem, which was about the only thing about you that resembled your sister. The only people you got along with were your boyfriend, Annabeth, and Grover.

Everybody at camp stayed clear of you anyways, as they were afraid of what you might do to them. Of course, you were more powerful than the others, and they were scared of that.

The day was off to a rough start. You were fifteen minutes late for breakfast, and when you entered the pavilion, heads turned. You were used to getting stared at, so you were able to ignore it.

You ate by yourself, keeping your head down. After breakfast, your first activity of the day was Ancient Greek with Annabeth.

You were reading out a boring passage to her when she stopped you at the end of a paragraph. “Are you having nightmares again?” she asked tentatively.

You looked up from the book. “Why do you ask?”

“You were late to breakfast. You’ve been looking so tired this past week. I’m worried. Luke’s worried. He says you’ve been distant,” she analyzed.

You sighed. “Yeah, I’ve been having them again. It’s the same as it’s always been.” You rubbed your hands over your tired eyes. “I can’t get it out of my head.”

“You haven’t told Luke?”

“No, I don’t want to stress him out. Besides, he probably sees enough of Thalia in me. Honestly, I think that’s why he’s with me. We all lost her that night, and he just needs something to remind him of her,” you confessed gloomily, picking at the corners of the pages.

Annabeth raised her eyebrows in surprise. “What are you talking about? Luke has liked you as long as I’ve known you. Thalia meant a lot to him, but you’re different from her. You mean something different to him.”

“Do you really think that’s why I’m with you?” Luke said, rounding the corner of the porch and making himself known. He had a hurt expression on his face.

“I’ll leave you alone,” Annabeth said awkwardly, standing up from her chair and hurrying away from the Big House.

“Luke, I-“

“I’m sorry to eavesdrop, but you can’t really think that.” He sat down next to you and pulled your hands away from the book pages. “Annabeth’s right, I’ve liked you forever. Thalia was like a little sister to me. The only time you remind me of her is when you get angry, and I’m not with you because of your anger,” he reassured, trying to make you believe him.

“Why are you with me?” Your voice came out small, and you were afraid of what he would say.

He shook his head, taking your face in his hands. “So many reasons. You’re smart, brave, and resourceful. You’re strong and beautiful. Honestly, you could name anything you don’t like about yourself and I promise you that I would love you regardless.”

“Do you mean that?”

“Yes,” he said sincerely.

You took a deep breath, ready to be honest with him. “In my nightmares, I see us on the night Thalia died. I see the moment she slipped away from me and I left her to fight on her own. I’m such a bad sister,” you admitted, voice breaking a little.

Luke looked pained at your words. His thumb was quick to wipe away a tear that had fallen. “What happened wasn’t your fault. Thalia was stubborn, once she got an idea in her head she wouldn’t let it go. You know that. If we let you go too, we would’ve lost you both. We couldn’t risk that.”

You were silent, taking in his reasoning and knowing that he was right. You leaned forward and kissed his lips softly. “Thank you, Luke,” you said quietly, resting your forehead against his.

“Of course.” He pushed a stray hair behind your ear. “Do you want me to sleep in your cabin tonight?”

“Yes, please.”

“Alright.” Luke pulled away and smiled at you. “What do you say we go zap some Dionysus kids in the strawberry fields?”

“That sounds like a great idea.” You grinned, already feeling much better.

#birdiewriteslit #birdiewritesfics #luke castellan #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #luke castellan x reader #pjo #pjo series #pjo tv show #annabeth chase #thalia grace #daughter of zeus #pjo disney+ #pjo fanfic #percy jackson fanfic

[kierahn]

Sorry if there are any spelling mistakes or too much formality, I'm not fluent 😭

I love your writing and have been thinking about a y! psychopath x male reader

It can be whatever you want, but I imagined a scenario where the reader was kidnapped, but managed to escape and is now running away from Yandere (and obviously everything is going to go wrong 🤭

THE (not so) GREAT ESCAPE. [ y ! psychopath x m ! victim reader ]

yandere ! captor x victim ! male reader

[ nsfw, minors dni. ]

warnings:

noncon elements

violence

dead dove elements

request here.

this was pretty rushed since i was getting frustrated having to delete and delete ideas i didn't see fit for this pairing TT. but it was still fun to write this request, thank you sm for this idea, anon !

× the sound of leaves crunching under your feet filled your ears as you ran through the bare forest with labored breaths. you weren't exactly sure where you were heading, but you just knew that you had to keep running. no matter how much the soles of your feet started to ache, you continued to push yourself to run. you couldn’t stop now. not when you were so close to regaining your freedom.

× and that was when you finally found it; a highway, an escape.

× you pushed yourself to run faster, internally celebrating your newfound freedom. but before you could get the chance to step onto the concrete road–

‘bang!!’

× a gunshot echoed throughout the woods which sent a few birds flying away. you fall stomach first onto the ground with a loud ‘thud!’. a scream was ripped out of your throat as soon as you realize that a bullet had lodged itself onto your right leg.

× you wasted no time attempting to pull yourself back up, but fail as your arms simply gave out from under you. your breathing quickened, the adrenaline in your veins trying its best to block out the pain on your leg. you couldn't give up now, not when you've gotten this far. so you began to slowly crawl your way through the ground with your arms. however, the footsteps behind you neared hauntingly slow; like a predator approaching its fallen prey.

× “!!” a yelp escaped your lips as you were pulled back by your ankle. ‘no– nonono.’ you frantically thrashed around in your captor’s grasp, trying to kick around to hopefully get him to let go. ‘FUCK ! NO, i was.. i was so close.’

× you were flipped onto your back, jin’s weight crushing you under him as he holds your wrists in place with one hand. he leans down to inspect your tear-filled face, your lower lip quivering in fear. you looked so helpless and vulnerable, it was an adorable sight for a predator like him.

× “did you really think you could escape me?” he questioned lowly, his hot breath hitting the tip of your nose. “seems like i need to break your legs to teach you a lesson, no?” his free hand trails down to hover above your leg. his larger hand squeezed down on your thigh which elicits a pained groan from you, the bullet wound on your leg throbbing.

× “or would you prefer it if i fuck you ‘til you can’t use your legs anymore?” he snorts, laughing at his own ‘joke’. with the hand that trailed from your thigh to your waistband, you couldn’t really tell if he was joking around anymore. “w–wait..” you wanted to protest, your voice hoarse from a dried throat.

× before you knew it, your legs were wrapped around your captor’s waist who was balls deep inside of you. he had stuck it in dry with no proper lubrication or preparation beforehand which resulted to slight tearing. thankfully enough, the blood from the tear made it less painful for you.

× the pain from your wounded leg and the pleasure from jin’s cock slamming itself repeatedly inside you took quite a toll on you. your were beginning to blur in and out of consciousness from all the blood loss you had suffered, but a harsh slap to your cheek brought you back.

× “we’re not done yet. don’t pass out on me now.” jin groans out, increasing his pace which caused you to arch your back slightly. your breathing was ragged as you instinctively wrap your arms around his shoulders to keep yourself steady, your nails clawing at his back hoping for some sort of relief.

x “hn! it h, hur..ts~ stop–“ you plead, fresh tears trickling down your cheeks as you shake your head frantically. he used a hand to grab your cheeks harshly, keeping your head steady. “stop moving, or else you’re going to get more than a gunshot to your leg.” jin threatened with a slight growl, visibly annoyed.

× you felt sore everywhere, the line between pleasure and pain blurring as your consciousness eventually started to fade. your lips paled and it was very visible that you were losing a lot of blood which could possibly led to your death. but jin didn’t seem to give two fucks, continuing his assault on your ass even as your vision completely faded, succumbing to sleep.

× you could only pray that you die there. you would rather choose death than end up back in his arms.

#male reader #yandere x male reader #x male reader #yandere male x male reader #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere #male x reader #kiahndere #yandere male

[fan-fantasies]

Fragile

A/N: we’re only 10 followers away from 5400, so if you’re seeing this, please follow!

Pairing: Rhea x fem!Reader

Warnings: size kink, fingering, oral f receiving

Rhea Ripley: the bane of your existence.

Ever since you joined the raw roster it was like she made it her mission to humiliate you. She was always calling you cute and fragile, simply because you were smaller than her.

She liked to spar with you in training so she could throw you around like a rag doll. You didn’t mind the training so much as it helped strengthen your skills against bigger opponents.

“Hey, can I see you in my office?” Adam Pierce called to you as you walked by.

“What’s up, boss?” You asked.

“You have a match tonight against Rhea, it’s a contenders match,” he said.

“Really? That’s amazing!”

“Rhea requested it actually so you should thank her.”

“Huh, yeah, I’ll go do that,” you said.

Why would Rhea request a contenders match against you? That was out of character for her.

You found her in the locker room getting her gear ready for the show.

“Hey, doll,” she said with a smirk.

“I heard you requested a match against me tonight. So thanks, I guess. Just wondering if there’s an ulterior motive behind it?”

“No ulterior motive. You know I love getting to rough you up,” she shrugged.

“Yeah, in training. We’ve never had a match before though.”

Rhea stalked toward you with a sinister smile on her face. She backed you against the wall, towering over you.

“Now everyone gets to see what a fragile little doll you are. I can’t wait for everyone to watch me break you.”

Her voice sent a shiver down your spine.

“And what if I win?” You asked bravely. She let out a chuckle.”

“Oh, baby, I’m gonna ruin you,” she said in your ear. Your stomach did a flip and you felt yourself growing wet at her words.

She left you in the locker room to deal with your feelings. You could really use a cold shower but there wasn’t enough time. You had to get ready for the show to start.

When your name was announced against Rhea, the crowd went wild. The energy between the two of you was electric and they could all feel it.

She stood across the ring from you, staring you down with a hunger in her eyes. The bell sounded and you began to dance around one another.

You decided to take initiative and make the first move. You tried to kick out her legs but she dodged you and knocked you down effortlessly.

You got back up and charged at her, only for her to knock you down once more. She was toying with you and you knew it.

Before you could get back up, Rhea scooped you up and held you high in the air, her head between your legs. She looked up at you with a smirk.

“What a pretty view,” she said, before slamming you down on the mat.

You groaned and rolled over onto your stomach, needing a moment to catch your breath. Rhea climbed on top of you and grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back.

“Everyone’s watching, little one. They love when I throw you around like the doll you are.”

She quickly picked you up and folded you into a riptide, slamming you back down. She rolled you up and pinned you in her signature style, grinding her hips into your ass. She looked down at you with a smirk as she kept you in that position way after the three count had finished.

You were hurting for sure, but you had to admit that having Rhea manhandle you had turned you on.

You hobbled back to the locker room and decided it was time for that cold shower.

You grabbed a towel and chose the stall farthest from the door. The water soon hit your body and began to relax your frayed nerves.

Only a few minutes passed before you heard the door open. Footsteps were getting closer to you before the curtain of your stall was ripped open.

“Rhea!” You shrieked, trying to cover yourself up.

“Did you think you could get away from me that easily?” She asked, stepping under the stream, pressing you against the wall. “Cold shower, huh? Something got you hot and bothered?”

“N-no,” you lied. Her large hand wrapped around your throat.”

“Wanna try that again?”

“You, you have me hot and bothered.”

“That’s what I thought,” she smirked. With her free hand, she pinned yours above your head. She began to kiss and suck marks onto your neck, causing you to moan.

“Rhea, please,” you whined.

“So desperate for me already,” she chuckled. “I’m gonna take care of you, little one, don’t you worry.”

She slid a hand between your thighs and quickly found your clit with her fingers. She finally pressed her lips to yours in a searing kiss. Your head was spinning between feeling her lips and her fingers working wonders between your legs.

“I want you to cum for me, doll, make a mess on my hand,” she demanded.

A few more seconds with her fingers on your clit and your legs went weak beneath you. If it wasn’t for her having you pinned to the wall, you were sure you would’ve collapsed.

She swallowed your moans with a kiss and let you come down from your high slowly.

“I want you on your knees for me,” she said. You didn’t even question her as you sank down before her. She looked down at you with the biggest grin on her face.

“You’re gonna eat me out like a good girl, understand?”

“Yes,” you nodded. She threw a leg over your shoulder so you’d have better access. She reached down and threaded her fingers through your hair, pulling you flush with her pussy.

You licked a strip between her folds and she threw her head back. You focused on her clit, dipping into her entrance every now and again to gather more of her wetness. She tasted amazing and it caused you to moan.

“Are you enjoying this, doll? Such a good girl for me,” she sighed.

You could tell she was getting closer by the way her grip tightened on your hair. She began to fuck herself on your tongue and was quickly cumming, doing her best to quiet her moans.

She pulled you back up onto your feet and kissed you, wanting to taste herself on you.

“Fancy coming back to my place tonight? I’m not done ruining you yet,” she said, looking down at you, taking your smaller hand in hers.

“Only if you promise to stop calling me fragile.”

“We’ll see just how much you can handle then,” she said with a smirk. You knew you were in for a long night.

#rhea ripley #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley smut #wwe rhea ripley #rhea ripley fanfiction #rhea x reader #wwe #rhea ripley x reader smut

[daycourtofficial]

We started alone, in the end we’re okay

| Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Rhys’s sister!reader

| Summary: on a rare night alone, Eris reflects on the loneliest night of his life, and how he’s a long way from the person he had to be.

| Author’s note: yes this is inspired by Pretty Little Girl by Blink-182 how’d you know the last 45 seconds of that song are everything to me

| TW: mentions of physical abuse, blood, death

| WC: ~2k

Servants bustled up and down the halls of the Forest House, preparations being made for the Starfall holiday, one he and his family won’t be attending.

He was the only one left in the house - you had taken the kids to Night a day early so they could have a sleepover with their cousins. Meanwhile Eris had a meeting with some advisors in the morning he was unable to reschedule.

Eris strode toward his chambers, his long legs carrying him through the halls that have been the only witness to his comings and goings during his long life. He walked a path so familiar to him he could be reincarnated and still, his feet would carry him where he needed to go.

He had broken tradition when he became high lord, opting to stay in his previous chambers over taking Beron’s previous ones. He wanted to burn those rooms down, wanted to feel his fire consume every remaining remnant of Beron on this plane of existence.

He turned it into additional servant’s quarters instead. His father would have hated it. Lucien was delighted at the news.

Walking through his chambers, a pang echoes through him at the missing toys across the floor, especially the wooden sword he had been tripping over all week, asking Atlas to put it away, his request falling on deaf ears. The floors looked so empty, the room too quiet, despite his children being gone for only a handful of hours.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he breathed in deeply, the scents of his family already several hours old, the rooms slightly colder without their body heat warming them, especially the younger ones, unable to properly regulate their powers yet.

He poured himself a glass of whiskey, sitting in the old leather chair that’s been in this room as long as he has. His amber eyes roam about the room, taking in every detail, despite very little physically ever changing about the room.

His mind wandered, opening doors into his past he had sealed shut. Doors he would give anything to forget where they sit, doors that he can hear screams from the other side of.

Without intending to, he stumbles through one of those doors, perhaps the largest and most foreboding of all.

The rag made a disgusting squishing noise as it met the tile of his bathroom. The pile was growing larger, his blood seeping out of the rags onto the floor.

He braced his hands on the counter, fingers gripping tightly to the marble counter, sucking in a breath through his teeth, trying not to think, to feel.

He grits his teeth, grinding them together as he pours more alcohol on the fresh rag, preparing himself for the sting.

He quickly placed the rag on his back, a small gasp coming from his lips at the pain. He bites his lip hard enough to draw blood, and he sparks a flame on the tile, needing something to distract him.

He skitters the small flame across the floor, rubbing the rag across his torn and shredded back, the alcohol seeping into his wounds, sterilizing them from Beron’s cruelty.

If only he were given the same treatment.

He closed his eyes, breathing deep and slow, trying to stop the images flashing behind them.

Lucien, his baby brother, the best of them, running through the woods, intentionally taking the paths most covered in root.

Lucien, whose long hair resembled Eris’s, and whenever they smiled, they both had the ability to unsettle people.

Lucien, who was slightly taller and stockier than his big brother. Lucien, who spent his young and vulnerable years searching for Eris in every room. Lucien, who Eris took on walks through the woods, teaching him how to snare rabbits.

He was too late to save his lover, had barely arrived in time to send word to Tamlin and redirect Lucien’s running towards the border with Spring.

He had warned and warned and warned Lucien not to test Beron, that he would fail as a father, fail to do the right thing every time.

Lucien, the snarky bastard, could never resist biting back, always testing the boundaries of those around him.

Eris wasn’t surprised when his father had called him to his office one night, desperate for answers to how any son of his could dare be enchanted by a lesser fae. He was, however, more than surprised at Beron’s ridiculous plan for punishing Lucien: forcing Lucien to watch as they killed Jesminda and then killing Lucien.

He couldn’t look at himself, couldn’t believe that they had gotten here, to this point, to this ridiculous sham of a family.

He didn’t know what he was doing until the knife was in his hand, blindly sawing at his hair until the ground around him was covered in strokes of red.

He ignored the throbbing in his back as he moved his hands, ignored the warmth spreading down his back as the wounds reopened. The hacked hair began coating his chest and sticking to the blood on his back.

He stood in a pool of his past, years and years of decay around his feet, a ghost looking back at him in the mirror.

At least his hair was dead before he took the blade to it.

There was no sign of his brother in his reflection. Just a short crop of red hair and some creature looking back at him. Something new roared beneath his skin, some new sense of purpose.

He dropped the knife, the blade clattering against the floor, the sound echoing through the room, but he couldn’t hear it over the rushing of his thoughts, the one thought consuming him.

He knew what he had to do. He would kill Beron. For Lucien, for his mother, for his brothers, for Jesminda.

For himself.

He walked out of the bathroom, into his chambers, opening the large window. The wind was sharp on the wounds on his back, but he couldn't help being drawn into the night sky before him.

An endless sea of stars above him, ones he knows are watching him make poor decision after poor decision. But still they call to him in some language he can’t understand, something deep within him yearning for their company.

He put on a loose shirt, the fabric suffocating his wounds. He slipped through the open window, the night sky infinite before him. Treading through the woods, he walks through unmade paths, paths that one day his children will forge in these woods.

They will never know the path he took that night, searching in the moonlight for a body, disrespected and desecrated. It took him a few hours, but he found what remained of her, parts of her body missing from predation. He waves his hand to shoo off some birds, their annoyed caws growing softer as they flew away.

He uses the shovel he brought to break ground, the wounds in his back that had began healing reopening, fresh blood mingling with the sweat dripping down his back.

All he could feel was the night air, somehow colder without his brother. His hands blister as he digs and digs and digs, offering penance for an atrocity not of his own.

He didn’t know why he did it. Maybe it was the right thing to do, even though Eris was never able to properly discern between right and wrong. Was it out of respect for Jesminda, whose last moments were filled with nothing but terror and the worst the fae had to offer? Was it out of mourning for Lucien, his youngest brother gone forever? Was it penance for all the terrible things he had done in his life so far?

He pulls himself out of the hole, grunting as he gets out of the grave. He looks into it, thinking how easy it would be to just bury himself instead.

Will this be his end? A burial under the cover of darkness by someone he hardly knows?

Knees meet the dirt, his hands moving to her face. He never knew her, not really. Met her in passing at one of the markets in town. She gave him some pastry, her little stall so homey despite its impermanence.

Her eyes are open, not seeing anything. He offers a prayer to the Mother - for Jesminda, for Lucien, for everyone who comes into Beron’s orbit. He asks for safe passage for Jesminda, into whatever afterlife exists.

He closes Jesminda’s eyes, his movements slow and deliberate. He takes her arms - what’s left of them - crossing them against her chest. He fishes from his pocket, putting a gold coin in one hand and an apple in the other.

Food for the journey, to nourish the soul. Gold for enlightenment, a hope that Jesminda will receive some peace in the journey before her. He delicately kisses her on the forehead - a last touch, performed with love and selflessness. Words never before used to describe Eris Vanserra, words that won’t be used to describe him for centuries to come.

He gently scooped her into his arms, taking care to keep her head from rolling back. It shouldn’t matter. It didn’t matter.

Except to Eris it did.

He walked with her over to the grave he had dug, gently lowering himself into the grave. His knees bent, delicatelt placing her on the ground as his chanting continued, pleading for safe passage, for a better ending than this. For an opportunity to come back, for her to get anything better than this.

Her body presses into the ground, relaxing into what will be her final resting place. Eris climbs out of the grave, peering down at his brother’s lover. His brother’s hope for the future, cruelly ripped from him by their father.

He grabbed the shovel, beginning to scoop dirt over her. It felt wrong to do so without Lucien or an audience. But it had to happen.

Once the grave was completely covered, Eris walked over to a patch of asters, using the shovel to scoop several of the flowers up. He lowered them onto her grave, a marking of sorts as he patted the soil around it so the roots would stay in place.

He looked at the asters, their purple hues looking so bright in the moonlight. Words are on the tip of his tongue, begging to be let out to pay some form of respect for Jesminda.

But nothing comes out. After a long time, the inly noise around him the chirping of insects, he turns, treading back to the Forest House. His footsteps are quiet, but much heavier. He finds his window easily, taking one last look towards the night sky, wondering what their everlasting gaze would have to say about what they’ve seen before slipping back into his room.

But Eris isn’t there anymore. Many sleepless nights had been spent since then gazing at the stars, dreaming of a better life. Dreaming of the day he would get to see Lucien again, silently asking the stars for any help they could provide.

Eris never put much faith into the Mother, assuming she had forsaken him and left him to be on his own. Until he met you. You who walked on stardust and moonlit skies. You who facilitated a reconciliation between himself and Lucien.

Eris’s fingers push through his short hair, reminding himself of how far he has come since that fateful night. For the first time in a long time, his fingers ache to feel more length.

#eris vanserra x y/n #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra fanfic #eris vanserra x reader #eris x y/n #eris x you #eris x reader

[bomertheshark]

Whimpering

A Brahms Heelshire x top male reader

Short

Today was a pretty good day. You had gotten up early, showered and even eaten. Now you lay on the couch reading a new book you had gotten in the mail, since your new boyfriend hated you trying to go outside the manor.

Who was this boyfriend of yours you may ask? Well it’s none other than the man behind the wall, who, you had been taking care of via a doll until recently. What changed this you weren’t really sure for awhile before it became clear that he had a specific interest in you which led to the moment you were in now.

“Please!” He whimpered. He had been riding your thigh while you were reading the book that was mentioned earlier, you’d been invested in it for a while. You had just gotten to a really good part when your partner had placed himself on your lap trying to get your attention.

Everything was too much but not enough for him, from the friction of your jeans on his corduroy pants to how you weren’t even paying attention to him. He wanted more, and more than that, he wanted your attention. He was hoping that he could get you riled up by grinding on your lap but you eventually just moved him to your thigh so that you could pay attention to your book. He hated that more than anything. He leaned forward to whimper in your ear hoping that it might be enough for you to finally pay attention to him and fuck him, you only sighed at him and shifted your leg.

He moved forward more so that he could hold you now fully whimpering and moaning as you started to bounce your leg out of habit, again it was too much and yet not enough. He was obviously getting quite irritated with you. He couldn’t understand what he was doing wrong! He was whining and showing how submissive he was! Why weren’t you just fucking him!?

He started to whimper harder from his frustration from the lack of reaction he was getting. At this point you couldn’t even pay attention to your book because of how whiny he was being, and the fact of how hot he looked.

At this point in time Brahms was leaning back on your leg, holding himself up with his hands on your knee causing his shirt to ride up and showcase his v-line and happy trail. You could see how labored his breaths were as he whined and whimpered. You could also see the ragging hard on he was sporting in his pants as he kept on chasing that high on your thigh.

You finally decided enough was enough and you would help your poor puppy out. The moment you put your book down on the table Brahms was all over you holding you tight “p-please it hurts.. I want you in me so bad.. please fuck me..” he held you even tighter thinking you might let him go when you got up from the couch. “It’s alright sweetheart we’re just going upstairs.” Brahms didn’t seem to wait that long since the moment you said that he pushed you back on the couch, straddling you “No! I want you in me now! Please! We can do it here! I don’t mind!” He said frantically all the while he was desperately grinding himself into you.

You decided that you could deal with the consequences later by taking Advil and a really good shower. You started to take off your clothes and before you could even raise a finger to help Brahms take his off he was already naked back on your lap looking up at you, grinding and whimpering for you to put it in. “I can’t put it in without prep Brahms you and I both know that.” And obviously he knew something you didn’t know as he blushed when you went to start prepping him with you spit to find that it was already occupied by something cold and smooth.

Brahms whined as he dug his face into your shoulder. “Brahms.. did you already prep yourself hoping that I would do this?” Of course he nodded, he was always one to break the rules. After the plug was gone and you tested to see how loose he was you started to lower him onto your length, going slow so that he could adjust to it.

Starting at a slow pace was already a lot for Brahms since he was already so overstimulated, but for him it was perfect and he could want nothing less than to be fucked raw by you. Once he started to shift his hips back to meet yours you knew that you could pick up the pace starting to get a much harsher pace with deeper thrust leaving Brahms to see stars.

It was beautiful to take in, his moans and whimpers from you hitting every perfect spot in him, to the way he clenched around your cock letting you feel the plush walls that surrounded you, only making you thrust deeper to reach the utmost pleasure and euphoria. “O-oh god.. you feel so good inside me, please fuck me harder” he said and you complied fulfilling every one of his fantasies in being ravaged and taken apart by you.

After the countless rounds that he begged for each time you filled him up, you were in the bathtub after cleaning him up thinking back to your book excited to continue where you left off in the story.

Sorry it took me longer than I though for it to come out! I hope you guys like this 🤭

#top male reader #dom male reader #bomertheshark #x male reader #seme male reader #male reader #bottom character #brahms heelshire #brahms heelshire x male reader

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 18

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

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

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

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

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: It's Friday.

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

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

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Another day brings you just short of the mountain peak. The pace of the train is ragged as they come to a halt and murmurs crawl up and down the lines. You slump against the frigid wind, nestling your chin into the fur of your cloak as you keep your eyes on Daisy’s neck. You yawn as Bryce reaches over to fix the reins as they almost slip from your grasp. 

“You well, mouse?” He growls. 

You nod. You haven’t spoken much in the last days, not since your first night on the mountain pass. You haven’t known what to say. You know he must have seen the king and yourself, how close you were, and you feel his judgment. You just don’t know how to say it isn’t your want. It would be improper to blame the king. 

“We’re almost there. Castle’s just ahead.” He looks up at the dark shapes soaring through the skies. He pointed out the vultures a while back, inferring there must be carrion near to bring them out. “You’ll have a warm place to lay your head.” 

You hum and offer nothing else. As you think of staying still, your stomach storms as violently as the skies. At least when you have a destination, when you are moving, you can make yourself elusive. Once you’re still, you don’t quite know what you’ll do. 

“Daisy will be relieved to rest, the old beast,” he chuckles, “she’s had quite the campaign.” 

You pet the horse’s mane, your hands mittened in strips of wool the grey soldier wrapped around them. 

“I know what the matter is but if you’re not gonna say it, I won’t neither,” he grumbles. 

You dip your head, hiding under the hood. You come to a halt behind the rest of the party as it stalls completely. You lean and peer over the edge of the horse. 

“Aye, you just wait,” he swings off his horse and lands easily on his feet. The snow dusts up around his tall boots. He comes to help you off the horse, your legs as snugly bound in wool. “We’ll find ya some proper clothes for the road at the castle. You’ll need all your toes.” 

You sigh and cross your arms. You look ahead then behind you. You cough and turn to touch Daisy’s soft neck. 

“I didn’t...” you begin. “I wouldn’t betray the queen. Or the king.” 

He huffs and moves closer, blocking the wind as Daisy nuzzles his shoulder, “I know ya wouldn’t, mouse. Is that why yer so meek? You think I judge you?” 

“What happened--” you voice piques and you nearly choke on it, “sir,” you throw your hands up, “I swear, I didn’t ask for it. The king...” 

“Kings do as they will. It is in their nature, it is their right,” he shrugs, “I am not a naive lad no more. You mightn’t have noticed how my beard matches the sheen of my sword, but I’ve seen many things. The old king... he had a few loves. None of them his wife.” 

“Love? Sir. It was a mistake, surely.” 

He is quiet as he shifts his soles. He turns one way then the other, “do you really believe that?” 

Your heart swells so big your ribs hurt. You cross your arms, hooking your hands over your shoulders. You chew your lip and look up at the tall grey man. 

“I don’t know what to believe. I thought I came to serve the queen. I thought... I don’t know, sir. I don’t. I wouldn’t ever hurt anyone. I wouldn’t want to.” 

“I know it,” he affirms, “you are the gentlest soul I’ve met. Well, since my own wife. Certainly, the king is taken with a summer soul like yours. How could he not be?” 

“Taken?” You utter in horror. “I am a maid. That’s all I am. It’s all I ever needed to be.” You sniffle and bring your hands to the edges of your hood, pushing it back to see him clearer, “sir, it keeps me safe.” 

“It did. It kept you safe when it could but that shield has broken.” 

“And what about you?” You murmur. 

He averts his gaze guiltily, “what the king does behind his own walls, I cannot stop. That night, he was unsafe. He threw caution away. For your sake, I deterred him. Reminded him of his duty.” He shakes his head and frowns at his boots, “you came to serve the king, you said, and that is what he intends.” 

You whimper. How can it be? He is wed. He has beautiful wife. And a throne. And an heir on the way. You’re just the maid. Just a maid. Not... that. 

“So, you would let him?” You challenge, a surge welling up your throat, a heat unlike anything you’ve felt before. 

“I serve the king too,” he mutters. “Though I do care for you, little mouse, how could I not? But I was commanded to see to you. To keep you unbothered. Unsullied.” 

Your legs wobble beneath you and you nearly fold over. You can’t stop the rush of emotion that overcomes you, the fire that burns in your veins and makes your vision bleary. You throw out your arms and shove Bryce. Once, twice, three times. He doesn’t budge, taking each in turn. 

“How dare you, sir! How dare you!” You hit his chest with your fists and collapse into him. “I never wanted it. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t.” 

“I know, sweet mouse, I know,” he curls an arm around you and sways, petting your hood, “you’ve every right to despise me. I will take whatever you have for me.” 

You heave and tamp down a throttling sob, “why, sir, why?” 

“It is... my duty.” 

You hear the strain in his voice, you feel the tremor that rolls through him, and how he clings tightly as if he fears you’ll push him away. You can’t. Even if he's hurt you, he is all you have. 

“I won’t beg forgiveness, I don’t deserve that,” he whispers, “but I’ll always be here for you, mouse, so long as you need.” 

You stay again him, silent and weak. You’re angry. You’ve never felt this sort of way. You’ve never felt as if you could tear your flesh from the bone just to let the tension out. You hate it. You’ve never hated anything but that feeling, you loathe it. It hurts worse than anything you’ve ever known. 

“I’m so sorry, mouse,” he continues to rock you, “so very sorry...” 

⚔️

You cannot blame your daze for nearly missing the castle right before you. The dark exterior blends into the rock face, set into the side of the mountain so that an untrained eye might not pick it out. The part splits into several streams, those for the stables, some soldiers to keep watch over the pass, and many more waiting to enter the great castle of Vulture’s Peak. 

As if to proclaim their name right, at least a dozen of the long-necked scavengers perch upon the towers. Bryce keeps you close as you keep astride. You peer toward the front of the crowd. The king’s white hair defines him among the bodies. He speaks with several black-garbed soldiers as Jazlene is helped down from the cart. Neither husband or wife acknowledge each other. 

You sit back and hang your head. Bryce breathes in through his nose and clucks, “right. Let’s get you to the queen.” 

You glance over, numb from more than the cold. He dismounts and brings you down to ground level. He fixes your cloak as it opens and lets in the stirring bluster. He finds a post to tie the horses to before he herds you towards the castle. 

You approach with your head down. The queen stands with a hand on her lower back though her bodice remains snug and flat to her unchanged stomach. The fur cloak drapes from her shoulders majestically as she stands with her head high. You stare at the hem of her skirt and await your orders. 

“Let us see to our host,” the king declares as he offers his arm to his queen, a stiff and despondent gesture.  

You keep your eyes down. You would rather wait without. You sense him pausing, looking around, and he turns to face the facade. He huffs. “Right, Sir Bryce, until I give the signal, you will keep all without.” 

“Your highness,” Bryce agrees and moves closer to you. 

King Geralt stalks through the snow with his wife in tow. Her words drift back behind her, “... so bleak. Is this how they receive a king and queen?” 

The king grunts but gives no answer as he pulls her onward, climbing the steps one by one as she slows him with her odd lean back. You turn to Bryce and tuck your chin down. Neither of you have said much since the pass. 

You wait, blowing into your hands and mulling back and forth. A restlessness stirs through the bodies around you, an uncertainty as you await the king’s confirmation. The lull carries on until the sun shifts into a new phase, or rather, the sky changes hue. 

The doors of the castle creak open and a slender woman descends the stairs. Her skin is smooth like polished brass and a similar hue, her hair is a shade of straw and her eyes are an eerie shade of jade. She wears a plain cloak on her shoulders and a square cap on the crown of her head. 

“Lord Vesemir welcomes the king’s company,” she speaks boldly above the din of curious murmurs. “Please come.” 

She beckons with her gloved hand and turns back to the castle. She walks forward without waiting. Bryce tuts, “typical.” He spins and waves, “you heard her, let’s go. Servants to the east, soldiers find your stations, lords and ladies, the west wing.” 

He spins and grabs your arm, ushering you ahead of the scrambling masses. You let him lead you on, though you might have preferred to stay in the gales.  

Inside, the walls are lit with mounted lanterns. The flames glow along the spacious hall and corridors haze amber to each side of you. Bryce keeps you close as he steps out of the way of the flood of bodies. He stops several other soldiers to direct them on how to accommodate the party. 

“Right,” he peers up the central staircase, with posts like spears, and he points you up it. 

“You know this place?” You keep your voice low as you come to the top. 

“Aye, been here now and again,” he says. “Vesemir isn’t the most hospitable. Not beyond a few, but the king does hold a special bond with the old bear.” 

“Oh,” you peer around at the plain tapestries, no patterns, just cut fabric to warm the walls. There is a single marked banner with symbols you do not recognise. 

“Do not fear. He is harmless. He puts on a mean snarl but he isn’t so mean as he pretends,” Bryce explains. 

You nod and skid to a halt in fright. A large bear stands by the wall, arms raised in attack, it’s great teeth bear in a growl. You squeak and knock into the soldier beside you. It’s white fur reminds you of the king’s tresses. 

“Oh, mouse, it’s long dead,” he pats your shoulder and laughs, “Vesemir claims to have killed the beast with his own hands. He doesn’t mention that no sound or wise man would be so far north as to meet a white bear such as this.” 

You gulp and gape at the large beast. 

“Stuffed. It’s hide preserved,” he points as he gets closer to it, unafraid, “when I first came, I had my sword drawn at the sight. It’s a cruel trick by the castle lord.” 

He touches the bear’s large claw and gestures you forward. You move forward and he takes your hand, putting it to the beast’s large paw. You feel the dried pads and shudder. He lets you go but you do not rescind your reach. You feel the fur of the creature, softer than you imagined. 

“Suppose we should get you where you need to be,” he exhales, taking out his sweet leaves to put some in his mouth. 

You pull back and face him. You wait for his guidance and he presses on. He pauses to ask a servant where the queen’s chamber lays. With his answer, you continue on. 

The two guards stand outside the doors. You recognise the one that is often there, with the coppery hair and sparse beards. The other is not familiar to you, though you’ve seen many faces on the road. Bryce nods to them and they let you through. 

“Don’t trouble her maid, she is in sensitive condition,” the orange-haired guard warns. 

“Eh,” Bryce growls, “mind yer business, she’ll mind hers.” 

“Don’t get your hackles up, old man,” the guard scoffs and you stop to look back. 

“In,” Bryce demands and points you through the door. 

You enter and the door closes out the voices, muffled by the barrier as their argument continues. The confrontation is most unexpected. You don’t recall either of the queen’s men ever speaking to you before. Most times, they barely took notice. You’re only happy Bryce was there to bark back at him. 

The queen is at the foot of her bed. She looks unhappy. You glance around the chamber, for a moment expecting the king to be lurking there with her. She is alone, holding her stomach as she breathes slowly. 

“Would you stop staring like a dolt and fetch a pail?” She garbles behind her hand. 

You grab the clean chamber pot from the corner and bring it to her. She seizes it and spits into it, though she hardly spits up more than saliva. She grumbles and shoves it back at you. 

“This place smells like cinder and dust,” she complains as you return the pot to its place. “And the snow is repugnant. To think, I am to be queen of ice. How dull. We should make our thrones in the summer lands.” 

Her gripes ease you. Those are expected, almost a comfort. 

“Hardly matters where I go, does it? The king never comes anyhow,” she whines and lays back across the mattress, “I carry his child and he doesn’t seem to care. Do you know what he said when I told him?” 

You don’t reply. She doesn’t want to hear more than her own voice. 

“He says, ‘see your duty done before you boast,’” she kicks her legs as they hang over the edge, “see it done? I have his seed in me and he is still distant. Will he see his child in my arms then command me see it to adulthood before my duty’s rewarded?” 

You stare at the wall. Her account of the king’s neglect sickens you, so much that you could spit up in the same pot as her. Is it you? Are you the reason he does not tend to her? Perhaps you do deserve her wrath more than you know. You wish in that moment that she would let it out upon you. You have earned any lashing she may give you. 

Though you may not have chosen your path, not as maid, not as traveler, not as the king’s desire, it does not matter. You will pay for the whims of your masters. As Merinda predicted, though not as she might have dreamt it, they have drawn you into great danger. 

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