#he tried so hard to set the mood with the songs too hes more down bad than i thought

[jamminvroomvroom]

in the middle of nowhere.

ln x fem!reader

in which you get the wrong idea in the middle of nowhere, so lando finally pops the question.

hello again! two fics in three days, unhinged jas is back 🤭 right so anyways, here you go! i love this concept so much and i hope you do too, lemme know what you think!

this can absolutely count as part two to everything if you want it to!

songs to set the mood: green eyes::siena by nothing but thieves, fearless by taylor swift, white ferrari by frank ocean, to love by suki waterhouse

warnings: 18+ minors dni! smut, angst for a sec, fluff, bit of choking, reader being stupid, lando also being stupid, then being so sickeningly in love, car sex hehe

2.1k words

the proposal

lando could see it now, the picture clear in his mind. the lines of your dress, clean and white. a veil that flowed, lacy and intricate. your eyes meeting his as you ascended towards him, ready to be bound together in life and love by two silver bands.

all you had to do was say yes. all he had to do was ask.

it was simple enough, getting down on one knee, bowing down before the woman he cherished with everything he had. the planning, however, that went into asking the question was eating him alive.

lando thought that he’d nailed it, finally landing on that one big idea that you’d remember for the rest of your lives. the perfect moment where he’d pledge to be yours forever.

little did he know that while the preparation was killing him slowly, it was also killing you.

-

the car ride was quiet.

lando tried to remain neutral, hiding his nerves and excitement. today was the day, you were en route to a small vineyard in the south of france. the drive from your monaco apartment wasn’t too far, but it was long enough for the pair of you to slip into silence. lando perceived it to be comfortable, glancing at you every now and then, noticing how you were taking in the countryside.

he tried not to concern himself over the way you were fiddling with your hair, chewing at your fingernails. you didn’t seem to notice the way he was watching you, eyes flirting between where you sat and the road ahead. he was more concerned by the dark cloud gathering ahead, but found some hope in the way the sunlight broke through, casting beams of light every which way.

the road was dead, not another car for miles. lando felt like you were the only two people in the world, manoeuvring the vintage lamborghini through the winding lanes, the overhanging trees casting curious shadows. it felt like a fairytale, until, of course, it didn’t.

“do you still love me, lando?” you choked out, finally turning to look at him.

lando slammed the brakes, hard. the way they screeched in protest told him that he’d be dropping a large sum into his mechanics bank account, but he couldn’t find an ounce of care, not when the woman he adored was asking such gut wrenching questions.

“what?” lando spat, delirious with confusion. his eyes were wide, wild with fear. “i- what?” he repeated himself, heart beating dangerously fast, and not in the usual way it did when you spoke.

“you just… are you breaking up with me?” your eyes were brimming with tears, lip quivering ever so slightly, but you stayed strong.

“are you serious?” lando was bewildered. “why would you think that?” he was wracking his brain for anything he’d done wrong.

“you’ve been so distant, at first i thought- well i don’t know what i thought, i just feel like you’re slipping away from me.” you sounded like the shell of your usual self, distraught in the face of it all ending. lando was too.

“baby, i’m so sorry. you’ve got it all wrong, i promise.” lando turned in his seat towards you, quickly checking his mirror as he did, safety first. he grabbed your hands, eyes meeting yours as he tried to convey reassurance.

“why have you been like this, then? have i done something wrong?” and so the troubleshooting began.

lando clenched his teeth, wondering how on earth he could explain his way out of this one without completely letting the cat out of the bag. it seemed that while he was planning perfection, he’d been neglecting you and he felt painfully stupid.

“i can’t… well, i can’t say.” lando replied, voice laced with hesitation. you frowned at his lack of explanation, head tilted in confusion.

“you can’t say? well that’s reassuring.” you bit back sarcastically. “if you don’t want me anymore, i’d rather you just tell me now.”

lando couldn’t believe what he was hearing. three years. three years you’d been together, and he was sure he’d loved you even longer. he was shocked that you thought that low of him, that he’d treat you so poorly, stringing you along. he could admit to himself that he’d made a bit of a mess of this, but he couldn’t accept that you thought he didn’t love you.

lando lived and breathed you.

“are you serious? you think i don’t want you?” his mind was moving a million miles an hour, and it spurred him on to make his next move. “get out the car.”

lando swung his door open, bounding round the door to open your door. there was a little velvet box burning a hole in his pocket, and he could feel it getting hotter with every stride he took. you stared at him dumbfounded when he took your hand, pulling you out of the car and into the road. you glanced around nervously, making sure you weren’t about to cause a car crash, but the coast was clear.

he pulled you into his chest, holding you close, eyes fixed on yours, his own a little teary now.

“you think i don’t want you? god.” lando sighed, shaking his head. one of his hands snaked down to his pocket. “you are the only person i will ever want. i didn’t want to do this here, had a whole plan and everything, but that means nothing to me if the woman i love thinks i don’t want her.”

his little speech had knocked the air out of you, and as he sunk down onto one knee, the colours of the sun hitting him so beautifully, you realised just how wrong you had been.

“baby, from the moment i met you, i knew. i knew you were gonna be my person, i just didn’t even imagine that you’d feel the same way. these years with you have been the best fucking years of my life, and i knew from the beginning that i wanted you by my side through it all.”

he was grinning up at you, a ball of nerves and curls, a few tears falling. you were a river, weeping over him, one hand clutching over your heart, the other fallen to your side.

“maybe i got it wrong, and i’m sorry. i’m so, so sorry. but i’m asking what i’ve wanted to ask for a ridiculously long time.” lando breathed. “will you marry me?”

you blinked, once, twice, choking out breaths between sobs. you dragged him up from the ground, kissing him with everything you had left. it was passionate, heavy with pent up emotion, and you never wanted to let him go. you cupped his face, keeping you together when you broke apart.

“yes, lando.” you whispered. “of course.” he slipped the ring onto your finger, a perfect, effortless fit, and then you were kissing him again, as close as could be, his hands all over you.

that’s when you felt the first drops of rain, the clouds finally breaking, just as they’d been threatening to all day.

“oh, fuck.” lando muttered, ready to pull you back to the car, but you wanted this moment to last.

“it doesn’t matter.” you said, letting the droplets coat your flushed skin. lando just smiled, relief washing over him like the rain.

you were engaged. fuck the rain.

and so, there you were, getting your very own movie moment, kissing in the rain with the love of your life, your fiancé, the man you would spend the rest of your life with. the sun still broke through the clouds, bathing you in light as the rain splattered against the damp ground. the leaves of the trees seemed to glisten, water droplets casting twinkles like fairy lights all around you. somehow, after everything, it was perfect. more perfect that anything you could have asked for, and, as bittersweet as it was to admit it, better than anything lando could have planned.

you threw your head back, staring up at the sky. lando leant forward, kissing over your exposed neck, and you hummed in delight. his lips worked their way up until they were ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“i love you. i will always love you.” lando whispered, and you melted into his hands that had a firm grip on your waist.

you shared a look, every worry dissipated, and you saw your life together, right there in his eyes. a flower littered aisle, him in a sleek black suit, his eyes meeting yours from the other side of the room. and then he was kissing you again and you felt the cool, damp metal of his car against your skin. your mind was full of houses in the country, white bedsheets, children playing in a garden. dinners by a fireplace and maybe a dog. but everything you saw slipped away until the only thing that remained was lando, right here, right now.

he was all over you, wet curls trickling cold water over you, sending a shiver down your spine. you grabbed at his shoulders, pulling at his soaked shirt, the white material translucent from the weather. it clung to him deliciously as you ran your hands over the linen.

“get in the car.” he groaned, sliding the material of your skirt up your legs. you complied instantly, turning to climb into your seat, when he stopped you. “no, honey. on my lap.” he smiled mischievously as he slid into the passenger seat and you quickly followed clambering onto his lap.

lando pulled your left hand up, so that it was resting over his heart. you finally had a chance to properly take in the ring, breathtaking as it was. it was an emerald cut diamond, simple yet elegant, exactly what you’d always envisioned.

“you see that? every time you look at this ring i want you to remember that i will always be yours. okay?” his voice had dropped, making the moment you were in even more intimate.

“okay.” you whispered, and his hand trailed lower, slipping under the hem of your ridden up dress. the other went to your neck, fingers gripping softly at the base of your throat.

“you thought i didn’t want you?” his grip tightened, your eyes wide in awe, fixed on his, murky blue green waters turned dark. “silly girl.” and then his other hand found your underwear, tugging it to the side.

lando moaned when he felt how wet you were, dripping all over his fingers, nice and ready for him. he worked through your folds, applying a firm, slow pressure to your clit. your mouth hung open, eyes fluttering shut from the pleasure, but the way his hand closed around your neck had you staring back at him again.

“i need you.” you whimpered, your own smaller hands gripping at his wrist, pushing him further into your delicate neck, rolling your hips against where his hand worked against your soft flesh.

“don’t doubt me anymore, do you? not when i’m the only one who can make you feel like this?” lando teased, and your stomach tightened, clamping down on the two fingers he’d slipped inside you.

“no,” you whined. “only you, lando.” and that was enough convincing for him.

he held you up, just enough to free himself from his jeans and boxers, and you gripped his shoulders, clawing at him as you sunk down on his length. the rain fell harder, condensation gathering on the windows as you ground down on him, meeting his thrusts. tears pricked your eyes; he felt so good, fit you like a missing puzzle piece, and you’d doubted him. you knew, in that moment, that you’d never do such a thing again.

moans were shared between you in unison, your foreheads pressed together as you both got closer and closer, the tight space intensifying the desperation to meet your end. his hands were firm on your hips, his body tight underneath your hands. you couldn’t keep the pace, thighs aching where you were straddling him, and he quickly took charge. your head fell to his shoulder, panting into his ear as he gave you everything, putting everything he had into the final few thrusts.

you laid against his chest in silence after, the sunset casting pinks and purples over the car. you grinned lazily, exhausted, your heart fuller than ever before.

“i’m sorry i doubted you.” you mumbled into his neck, nosing at his stubbled jaw.

“i’m sorry i made you doubt me.” he responded, stroking your hair, squeezing you tighter for a second.

“i can’t wait to marry you, lando.” you kissed his jaw, sitting up to smile at him. your hands looped around his neck, twisting his curls around your fingers.

“my wife.” lando chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “let’s get you home, hm?”

“please.” you crooned. “i’m sure you need to tell max that you finally asked me, huh?”

“you know me too well.”

-

taglist

removed tags that weren’t working! lemme know if you wanna be added or removed

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#lando norris #lando norris fic #lando norris smut #lando norris angst #lando norris fluff #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 driver x reader #f1 driver x you #f1 smut #f1 fics #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #f1 oneshot #f1 angst

[zepskies]

Break Me Down - The Epilogue

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

AN: This chapter is set about a month before "Love Actually." So...are you ready?

Song Inspo: For this last chapter, it’s “The Book of Love” by Peter Gabriel. (It’s just lovely. I listened to it while writing the second half of the epilogue!)

Word Count: 7,800 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Violence and peril, angst, familiar bickering, smutty smut, bit of breeding kink, tender fluff, hurt/comfort, and an ending…

Epilogue: All My Living Time

“I’m not fucking around,” he said. “I want you to live with me.” 

Your smile was soft and bright when you took his hand. Ben wouldn’t admit it, but something in his chest stuttered to life then.

“Okay,” you said with a nod. “Let’s do it.”

Six months later…

You were frustrated with your roommate.

And yes, you used the word roommate, because he hadn’t seen fit to give it any other label.

You stewed in your irritation as you also stirred the beginnings of chicken tortilla soup. It was early in the morning before work, and Yvette had been teaching you how to master the crockpot. Hopefully, by the time you and Ben got home tonight, it would be ready and waiting for dinner.

Six months. You had to nag him about cabinets left open, dirty boots left right in front of the door to your shared apartment, and hell, actually going to his therapy sessions.

While that last one had taken months of convincing and cajoling, he’d caved when you suggested that acknowledging and dealing with what happened to him in Russia might help him control the nuclear power inside him. And maybe, just maybe, they wouldn’t have to patch another hole in the ceiling.

Mind you, he wouldn’t actually talk to said therapist about anything related to his PTSD. But at least he was going. And the therapist was apparently getting an earful of Ben’s celebrity encounters, with all the explicit, gushy details.

However, even with all of this, it also sometimes felt like you were an in-house maid rather than a partner.

The latest reason for your frustration returned to you when Ben strolled into the kitchen in search of coffee. He wasn’t yet dressed for work in his supe suit; instead, still in the plain shirt and sweatpants he’d slept in.

He glanced at you, and seeming to sense your mood, he kept to himself as he found his usual mug and poured a cup of steaming French press in silence.

You took in a breath, trying to calm yourself. Maybe he’d had time to sleep on it. You closed the crockpot and went over to him. Your hand on his arm made him pause.

“Hey,” you said, “have you thought about what I asked you last night?”

Ben’s expression remained flat. “I think I already said my piece on that.”

You sighed.

“Why is dinner with my family such a hard thing for you?” you asked. Your brows furrowed. “My sister’s starting to warm up to you! And Mom just wants to get to know you. What’s the problem?”

Ben scoffed. “Your sister fucking hates me.”

You bit your lip. He wasn’t totally wrong, but in fairness, Louisa wasn’t happy to learn about why you’d nearly died in the hospital, when Vought Tower collapsed.

She thought you needed therapy for an egregious case of Stockholm Syndrome. But the more Ben worked with Supe Affairs, helping to clear the streets of out-of-control supes and cleaning up the remains of Vought, you were slowly getting Louisa to come around.

“She just needs time to get to know you too,” you said.

Ben wasn’t having it though. He rolled his eyes and tried to walk away from you with his coffee and a newspaper—aiming to get to his favorite lounge chair in the living room. It was the way he always started his morning, like the old man he was.

You followed him.

“Come on, one dinner won’t kill you,” you said. “And by the way, neither would moving your dirty-ass boots out of the doorway.”

You went over to grab said boots, and in your annoyance, you all but tossed them into the hall. Ben frowned at you, throwing down the newspaper onto the coffee table.

“Why’re you nagging me like a goddamn wife?” he snapped.

“Wife?” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “You don’t even call me your girlfriend.”

But God forbid another man even smile in your direction. Ben was possessive, protective, and claimed with all but words that you were his. And yet, he wouldn’t say it.

You shouldn’t have been surprised that he was afraid of commitment, but you’d been living together for six damn months. Almost seven, if you counted the safe house.

When you found this nice, but cozy apartment in Scarsdale, you’d sat him down at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, like the two of you used to in that house in Medellin.

And you established the ground rules before you two officially moved in together: 

First, an exclusive relationship meant exclusive. Meaning no fucking around. (He’d raised a brow at you.)

Second, you were his partner, not his slave. You expected him to carry his hefty weight, not only in the relationship, but around the house. (He’d most definitely rolled his eyes at that.)

And finally, don’t be an asshole, you’d decreed. “Be honest when you’re not feeling right about something. But don’t be a dick about it.” 

That cut both ways, of course, just like the other two rules. He’d agreed to all of these, albeit begrudgingly. You hadn’t really known then if he meant it.

And now, looking at him, you still had no idea if he was trying, or if he was just tired of being alone…and if you were just a convenient bedwarmer. You bit your lip once again, this time with a growing fear blooming anxiety in your chest.

“Do you even love me?” you asked.

Ben blinked down at you, and his lips pulled into a deep frown.

“Stop fucking around,” he said.

“I’m serious,” you insisted. Your crossed arms tightened, as if to protect yourself from what he might say. “You’ve never said it once.”

“And the fact that I agreed to live in this mediocre fucking apartment doesn’t mean anything?” he said, gesturing around him with a hand. “I take you out, I buy you shit. Matter of fact, I fucking spoil you.”

“And you take off whenever you feel like it, especially after missions,” you shot back. “Sometimes I don’t know where the hell you’ve gone for hours. For all I know, you’re out there doing blow with a caravan of strippers!”

While that did sound like a damn good time, that hadn’t been Ben’s M.O. in recent months. And in his mind, you should’ve known better.

“I haven’t fucked anyone but you since we moved in here,” he snapped.

Even longer than that, if he was honest. 

Meanwhile, you wanted to trust his words, desperately, but you just didn’t know if you could. 

“Even if I believe you, what’s the problem here?” you asked. Your gaze fell from his as you worried your bottom lip. “Am I doing something wrong?”

You didn’t see the way Ben’s brows knitted together, his eyes softening a bit.

“Other than annoying the hell out of me right now, no,” he replied. 

“Okay,” you nodded with a sigh. You looked up at him again. “Then just tell me the truth. What are we doing here?” 

“What the fuck do you mean?” Ben’s hands went to his waist, and once again, he frowned in irritation. “I’m here. What more do you want from me?” 

“Do you love me?” you asked. “And don’t lie to me.” 

He knew very well that you would be able to detect if he was lying. Which was why, you suspected, he hadn’t tried to. 

He couldn’t seem to answer you though…and that broke your heart.

Shaking your head, you walked away from him to get ready for work.

Your attitude at work was snappish at best. Annie had pulled you from the Surveillance department on your lunch break to join her and your friends in the breakroom, but you couldn’t enjoy yourself like you usually would.

“Smooth and creamy, all the motherfuckin’ way,” M.M. said. Sitting across from him in the breakroom was Frenchie, pelting him with a roasted peanut.

“This is why you are an unsophisticated, bourgeois, fucking fuddy-duddy,” Frenchie remarked. He was also vaping, as Annie was trying to get him to stop smoking indoors. “Extra crunchy peanut butter is the only way to do business.”

“What’s the point? Just eat peanuts if you want it that crunchy,” M.M. countered. He blocked each roasted nut thrown at him and organized them in a perfect pile on the table.

“You know what? You’re right. Smooth and creamy is how I’ll eat out your mother’s sweet and savory vajine,” Frenchie teased.

M.M.’s deadpan face was priceless. But when a peanut projectile strayed and hit you in the cheek, you leveled Frenchie with a glare.

“Can you guys not act like children for five goddamn minutes?” you snapped.

His brows raised, along with his hands in surrender. M.M. and Annie looked at you in mild surprise, and the latter with concern after the guys eventually left.

“What’s going on with you? You’ve looked tense as hell all day,” she asked. You sighed, holding a hand to your brow.

“I know. I’m sorry,” you replied. She gave you a knowing look.

“Is…something going on?” she asked. “Is it Ben?”

Most of the S.A. was still wary of Ben, while M.M. tolerated him at best. (You understood how hard he was trying.)

You appreciated Annie though. She was a good friend, and along with Hughie, she’d been another who started to come around to the idea of Ben. Not only as he occasionally worked with the S.A., but to the man himself, after she’d seen the way he did his best to save you, Yvette, and her son Devon.

You nodded at her question. You couldn’t help the tears burgeoning in your eyes. Annie scooched her chair over so she could rub your back in comfort. You sniffed and tried not to break down here in the middle of the breakroom, over your sad ham sandwich.

“We had a fight,” you admitted. Annie’s gaze was tight with concern.

“Did he…hurt you?” she asked. Her brown eyes were as direct as her words, promising her protection as well as retribution, depending on how you answered.

Your glassy eyes widened. “No. He’s not like that, he…believe it or not, but he’s never hurt me, Annie. Not once.”

After a moment, she nodded. “Okay, good. Well, tell me what happened.”

You wanted to. But before you could, both of you got an incoming text in the team group chat. It was from Grace Mallory.

She had a new mission.

Grace asked you to join the team on your first field mission since you’d returned to work three months ago. She also called in Ben, as in her words, it was another “all hands on fucking deck” situation.

Ben and Butcher eyed one another with similar stoic frowns, before they proceeded to ignore each other. Despite how you felt about Ben right now, the brief exchange almost made you smirk.

Apparently the whole I saved you with my super blood thing was awkward for both of them. You knew Ben had seen it as a means to an end. You still didn’t know how Butcher felt about it, but it seemed as if a begrudging respect had formed between the two men.

Or at least, they were civil, anyway.

“All right,” Grace said, once she saw that everyone was in attendance. “Let’s begin.”

A supe named Sapphire had been giving the CIA trouble for years now. She was moving drugs from South America to the States, to the Middle East, whoever would deal with her. And she was smart. She had a network of spies that transcended continents, and so she had evaded every attempt at arrest.

She was also a powerful supe, with the ability to channel vaporizing energy not unlike Crimson Countess had. However, this supe could spear blue shards of light through her enemies as well.  With her damn eyes.

Grace turned to you after she finished explaining the details of the mission.

“Sapphire’s internal security is advanced. Our system can’t penetrate her firewalls. You’ll need to get a hand on the mainframe from there, shut down her system. Then our Surveillance team can back you up here.”

You nodded, but in the corner of your eye, you noticed Ben frowning as he crossed his arms.

“What?” you asked.

“You’re out of practice,” he told you. “You really think you’re ready for this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I train every day,” you snapped back.

Ben’s expression fell into irritation. “Not the same, and you fucking know it.”

Butcher, Annie, and the others watched the exchange with mixed wariness and discomfort. Grace looked between you and Ben with curious, narrowed eyes.

“Is this going to be a problem, you two working together on this?” she asked.

You turned from Ben’s annoyed face and met Grace’s gaze directly.

“Not at all,” you said.

Sapphire had been spotted doing business in the Meat Packing District. By day, the building was a beef butchering factory. By night, it was apparently one of the most massive drug running operations in the city.

As such, her security team was extensive—at the front, the back, and the roof. So while Butcher, Kimiko, and Ben broke through the front, making a lot of noise and distraction, the rest of you went under.

Unfortunately, that meant the sewer. Annie lit the way through, while M.M. followed a set of schematics to find the right spot.

“It’s not my first time in the bowels of New York City, but please God, let it be the last,” Hughie quipped. You tried not to breathe the foul smell through your nose.

“Watch the fucking rat,” M.M. said with a grimace, before he set up the double-sided ladder he brought. He and Frenchie climbed either side of it up to the metal ceiling which, according to the building’s schematics, led directly beneath the factory basement.

They took up welding guns and masks to carve a large hole into the metal and cement above. And soon enough, they pushed up and slid over a large portion, creating a gap you could all crawl through. 

M.M. helped Annie up first, and she shot a few star bolts at the three men inside, who had been smoking and eating deli sandwiches. Each of them went down, alive, but groaning in pain. That allowed the rest of you to climb up and into the basement.

“We’re in,” M.M. said into the Bluetooth communicator in his ear.

“We’re cutting through her goon squad,” Butcher said. “Sapphire’s here somewhere. I can smell a massive cunt already.”

“Gross. Thanks for that visual,” Annie remarked.

From there, you all took off toward the stairwell. It was your task to find the operation’s security control room. So Hughie and Frenchie went with you as backup, while M.M. and Annie went to join the fight and find Sapphire.

It took you a few tries to find the right room. Most of them were offices. One contained wagons of discarded meat parts (disgusting). But eventually, you found a large room filled with computer equipment and a huge wall monitor with several panels of camera feeds. You and Frenchie raised your guns and took out the team inside.

Then you and Hughie went to the controls. Frenchie watched the door while you worked to disable the firewall first. You instructed Hughie on how to knock out their communications as well. And within a few minutes, your work was done. You were able to make a call to the S.A. Surveillance team.

“Hey, friend!” a cheerful voice greeted you. You smiled; it was your coworker Jess, who you’d worked with for the past two years. 

“Jess?”

“Yep! I’m helping out on this one. What do you need?”

“I shut down the firewall. I’m giving you the I.P. address now so you can connect.”

“…Okay, got it. I’m in. I can see all twenty cameras, and you! Hey, there.”

“All right, where’s Sapphire?” you asked.

“Looks like they haven’t found her yet,” Hughie said, pointing at the camera feed in the main room, filled with rows of conveyor belts, and a massive fight as Ben, Butcher, and the others made their way through the building.

“We’ll just have to help them clear each room,” you said. “Let’s go. Jess, keep an eye on us, but look out for Sapphire.”

“Will do. I’m patched into your comm now too,” she said. So you hung up your cell, and you left with Hughie and Frenchie.

You ran into more security when you left the room, more than the three of you could realistically handle as a fire fight began. You guys ran in the opposite direction, but while you veered right around the corner, Frenchie and Hughie ran left. Bullets tore in between, making sure that none of you could cross the hall to join back up.

“You guys keep going. I’ll find my own way out,” you called out to them. Neither of them liked that idea, but Frenchie nodded and pulled Hughie away when Sapphire’s security team closed in.

You kept running down the hall. You knew you were being chased. Several heavy footsteps thundered behind you. 

“Jess, I need a way out of here,” you commed in.

“You’re on the second floor,” she said. “The closest stairwell is the one you’re running away from.”

“What’s the second closest?” You panted as you ran.

“Hmm, you can cut through room 234. The exit stairwell is right on the other side.”

 “Is the room clear?” you asked.

After a moment, Jess answered. “Yep, it should be.”

"Should be?”you said dubiously.

“What the hell’s going on?” you heard Ben’s voice on the line. You heard the edge of his annoyance (and underlying worry), but you didn’t have time to talk to him right now.

“Looks clear on my end,” said Jess,“but this connection is a bit wonky.”

Damn it, Jess, you thought. When you reached room 234, the door was solid gray. There was no window to peek into, and you didn’t have time for caution, as a stray bullet nearly caught you in the head.

You ripped the door open and ran in, slamming the door shut behind you and locking it for good measure.

You turned around and stopped short. A gasp caught in your throat.

The room was huge, and it was filled wall-to-wall with white packages, of what you could only assume was cocaine. A few men were continuing to stack them. At the center of it all was a tall woman, rich tan skin, long black hair, wearing a deep blue pantsuit and killer heels. She looked like a boss ass bitch.

But unfortunately, she was also looking straight at you, raising a brow.

“Ah,” she said. A smile curved her lips, painted with a dark plum lipstick. “You’re one of the little bitches making a mess in my office.” 

Her eyes glowed blue, and yours widened. You dove for the nearest shelter—a wall of cocaine parcels. White powder exploded and wafted in the air as you ducked and ran across the room (and tried not to inhale). You drew your gun and shot out the legs of her men underneath the long stretch of table, but you yelped as bullets continued to follow you.

“I found Sapphire! Need backup in 234!” you shouted into the comm.

But when a blast of blue energy rocked into the wall directly behind you, you screamed as you were thrown forward. You landed painfully on your side, with the wind knocked out of you.

After a moment, you drew breath into your lungs and were able to pick yourself up. The exit door was close, a mere few feet away, but the second you reached for it, you had to pull back as narrow blue shards of light pierced the door. 

Sapphire was quickly approaching, just a yard or so away from grabbing you.

Instead of shooting your gun, you went for the taser at your belt and shot fast. Sapphire grabbed the end of the line like a fucking moron. Her blue eyes widened in outrage and pain when it shocked 50,000 volts of electricity through her body.

You took your chance, and you ripped the door open and fled. You just didn’t expect the bolt of energy that shot after you when you reached the stairs.

It didn’t hit you, but trying to dodge it made you lose your balance. You uttered a short scream as you were forced to jump the first flight of stairs.

You landed on the middle platform between the first and second floor. This time, you knew you twisted your ankle badly on the way down. You whimpered, holding your ankle and shin, but you knew you didn’t have time to waste.

It was a struggle to claw your way up to the guard rail. You could barely put pressure on your right foot, but you had no choice as you scrambled down the rest of the stairs. Already the door to the stairwell was blown open, and a pissed supe was on her way down behind you.

After shoving the door open on the first floor, you stumbled out and took another painful spill across the concrete floor. To your relief, M.M. picked you up by your arms.

The door behind you swung open, and before Sapphire could fire off a vaporizing blow, Ben raised his new titanium shield in front of you and M.M.

The blue energy bounced right off, and Ben used his shield to bat the supe right in the face—like swatting a fly. With a shriek, she was thrown hard against the wall.

Sapphire sunk to her knees, then the electric blue flickered out of her eyes as she fell unconscious to the floor.

When you all returned to Supe Affairs, Ben thundered down the hall towards the Surveillance department.

“Ben!” You hurried after him the best you could with a sprained ankle, bare-footed and wrapped, while M.M. and Hughie trailed behind. The others were busy getting Sapphire into custody.

Hughie was concerned for you though, while M.M. also wanted to know how you were going to try and reign in Soldier Boy.

“What the hell are you doing?” you called after Ben.

“I wanna know what goddamn moron cleared that fucking room,” he barked, but he didn’t slow down.

M.M. called your name from behind.

“Get your boyfriend in check,” he warned.

You sighed in irritation. At this point, you didn’t even know if he was your boyfriend.

But you struggled to reach him. You were practically hopping on one foot. The moment you tried to put any pressure on your right one, you faltered with a cry as you all but crashed against the wall to catch yourself. Hughie went to help you, grabbing your arm gently with a supportive hand on your back.

You didn’t see it, but that was when Ben stopped short. His jaw ticked. And he turned on his booted heel. When he saw you struggling to support yourself against the wall, he reluctantly went back. He knocked Hughie’s scrawny hands off you and wrapped an arm around your waist.

When he tried to just gather you into his arms to get the weight off your injured foot, you snapped at him.

“I can walk!” you said. “Let’s just go home please.”

His nostrils flared in irritation, but he helped you try to walk back toward the exit instead. You winced in pain with every small step.

Ben growled in annoyance. Fuck this. 

He hefted you effortlessly into his arms. You gasped and clung to his shoulders, and afterwards, you glared at him.

“I said I can walk!” you insisted.

“Shut up,” he grated out, swiftly heading for the exit doors down the hall. M.M. and Hughie watched with wide eyes while you and Ben devolved into what you did best.

“Don’t tell me to shut up!” you raised your voice.

He glared at you. “You’re in rare fucking form right now.”

“You’re the one being an asshole!”

“And you’re being a disrespectful brat!”

You rolled your eyes as anger burned hot in your veins. “What-fucking-ever, grandpa.”

Ben’s teeth clicked and grinded together. It took everything he had within him not to toss you. 

“You really wanna fucking get it, don’t you?”

“Suck my dick. How about that?” you sassed back, unfazed by his warning. 

Ben bulldozed through the double doors with a swift kick that shook them on their hinges. The bickering continued long after you two exited the building. 

Hughie just stared, mouth gaping, while M.M. crossed his arms. 

“That is some volatile shit,” Hughie remarked. 

M.M. scoffed, with a subtle shake of his head. 

“Nah, man,” he said ruefully. “That’s true motherfuckin’ love.”

Meanwhile, in the car, Ben drove home to Scarsdale. You simmered in the passenger seat. He glanced at you.

“Are you gonna be a hissy bitch all night?” he asked. You glowered at him.

“You’re the fucking grouch,” you shot back. In times like these, you liked to fantasize. Sometimes you wished you could rip out his spine and play Jenga with the vertebrae.  

“And you’re the one who nearly got yourself killed,” he retorted.

You took issue with this, your brows raising high.

“Excuse me? You’re really blaming me for what happened with Sapphire? You were ready to take out my friend for making an honest mistake.”

His gaze briefly left the road, turning to you in frustration. He didn't understand how you couldn't get it through your thick skull. You had been one shaky step shy of being fucking vaporized today.

No blood. No body. Just...nothing.

“Case in point, you’re the best in Surveillance," he said gruffly. "You don’t need to be in the field."

His compliment stopped you, warming you a little, but he was missing the point.

“I go where I’m needed, just like you,” you said. “You don’t get to tell me how, when, or where to do my job.”

Needless to say, it was tense for the rest of the way home.

Ben helped you inside, after which, you were determined to get to the bedroom by yourself. He watched you hop away from him with a frustrated shake of his head.

He sighed and started to peel off his gloves and untie his boots…but instead of leaving them by the door, like he usually would, he kept walking until he made it to the bedroom he shared with you. He sat on the edge of the bed and took his boots off there.

He watched you ignore him as you closed yourself into the bathroom.

You came out of the shower a little while later. Your hair was damp, but unwashed as you hadn’t been able to stand there for very long. The wrap on your ankle had gotten wet, so you grabbed the spare one that the paramedic had given you.

Ben didn’t look at you as he took his turn heading into the bathroom. After the door shut, your shoulders slumped with a sigh.

You tried to put on some shorts, but you quickly gave up and instead put on an overlarge shirt over your underwear. You remembered then that this shirt was an old one of Ben’s, and now a favorite of yours, because it still smelled like that earthy mix of his cologne and aftershave.

Frowning, you sucked in a deep breath. And you made a decision.

By the time Ben came back out with a towel wrapped around his hips, he found you still in the bedroom. Except you were packing a suitcase—the same one he’d brought to the safe house he’d shared with you for a month.

You were stuffing clothes into it from your side of the dresser. Something churned uncomfortably in his stomach, and he approached you.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he demanded to know.

You glanced up at him, but continued packing.

“Well, you made yourself very clear this morning that we’re just roommates. So I’m going to the guest room.”

“All right, don’t get all fucking hormonal,” he said, reaching out with a hand to stop you. You snatched your hand away from him. His brows raised in disbelief.

When you tried to get past him on the way to your closet, he held fast to your arm. With an angry frown, he then grabbed your suitcase and spilled it over onto the bed. You didn’t need a fucking suitcase to move one room over. Not that he planned to let you go any-damn-where.

“Enough,” he said sharply.

You met his intense stare with your own, but your eyes were shining and red. In that moment, you both stilled. The silence was palpable. For you, it was heartbreaking.

“I can’t do this anymore, Ben,” you confessed. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall just yet. “I put my all into this, and I just…I can’t be with someone who won’t be honest with me.”

You started to grab your suitcase again, along with your discarded clothes. Ben stopped you. 

“I said enough,” he snapped. 

You then threw the heap of clothes to the floor, suitcase and all.

“Why?” you tearfully retorted. “Why should I listen to you?” 

His deep green eyes searched yours. For what, you didn’t know.

Eventually, you started to see through the cracks of his anger.

“Because I fucking love you,” he said. 

You blinked up at him, with hope stuck in your throat. But you were stubborn in your denial.

“You’re just saying that to get me off your back,” you argued. “Either you’ve just gotten used to having me around, or you just don’t feel like being alone. But you don’t really care about me.”

You knew you were saying words you didn’t mean.

You knew that wasn’t true…but you couldn’t help it.

You were more upset than angry now, seconds away from dissolving into pitiful tears. You were just stubborn enough to hold them at bay.

“Just shut up for one goddamn second,” Ben said. He held you by your shoulders, though his hands soon moved down to grip your arms. It wasn’t a painful hold, but it was firm, and quite possibly pleading.

Despite your better judgment, you gave him time to speak.

“You really think I’d stay here in this shithole if I didn’t want you?” he asked. “If I didn’t care about you?”

You unconsciously held your breath. For a long moment, he hesitated to continue.

Again, you waited for him.

Meanwhile, Ben knew he was being a coward. He’d been holding back. Not because he wasn’t serious about you, but because he’d been burned before. 

He knew he’d spent his life being a fucking bastard, in most ways. He knew he’d been wrong, and hadn’t given two shits about it. But Crimson Countess…Tess…he’d been willing to settle down with her. He’d actually told her he loved her and hadn’t been totally lying through his teeth. 

Yeah, he’d fucked around. Flirted with other women in front of her. He knew he was a hypocrite. Still, in whatever way he could at the time, he thought he’d loved her. 

And she’d lied to him. She’d gone through the motions of being with him. For fame or fear or whatever her reasons had been, she went along with it. And then she’d sold him out, along with the rest of their team. 

For nothing. Just to get him the fuck out of her life—out of the world. 

So what was he supposed to do with you? Just let you walk the fuck in, give you the deepest parts of him? A dark fucking space that he’d never given to anyone.

Well, he knew now if he didn’t, you were going to leave. But he wasn’t willing to let go either.

So…he relented. For once in his life, he told the truth.

“I love you,” Ben admitted. “In my whole damn life…I think you’re the only one who’s made me feel it for real.” 

Tears finally slipped down your cheeks. You reached out and grasped his wrist, mostly for stability as you took in his words. He took that hand, held it to his warm chest. Always warm. 

“But one day, I’m still going to fucking lose you,” he said, looking down on you. “Then I’ll be right back where I started.”

Alone. 

You looked up at him with a sad, rueful smile. 

“Not exactly where you started,” you replied. He wasn’t the same man you met last year. You pressed your free hand to his cheek.

“Taking Compound V doesn’t guarantee I’ll come out like you, with a longer lifespan.”

“It’s something the CIA can work on,” Ben said. 

“You want Dr. Baker to experiment on me?” you asked, quirking a brow. The CIA had recruited her, ironically enough.

Ben closed his eyes for a second, letting out a slight huff. “That’s not what I’m fucking saying.”

You nodded and soothed your fingers through his hair. 

“Okay, we’ll have that conversation. I promise.” Then you smiled. “But let me just have this moment…my boyfriend loves me.”

You looked into his eyes and you knew he meant it. His hands moved to your waist, around to the small of your back. You clung to his shoulders and shifted off your aching ankle with a wince. Ben noticed, and he raised you up to him. It had the added benefit of letting you reach his face easier.

He guided you into a searing kiss. You responded in kind, delving into his hair again and opening your mouth to his demanding tongue. With the tips of your toes, you pushed up from the ground and he helped you wrap your legs around his waist.

The towel he wore was starting to slip, and you shoved it the rest of the way off with your foot, until he stood in the center of the bedroom in all his glory. 

He smirked into your lips and walked you to the bed. But before he could lay you down, you broke the kiss and held his face.

“You really love me?” you asked, just to make sure. It was the part of you, perhaps still scarred deep down, that had to ask.

Ben chuckled. He rested his forehead against yours. “You’re mine, sweetheart. Don’t you fucking forget it.”

You grinned, and you kissed him this time, only breaking when he lowered down to the bed. Once your back met the plush mattress, all bets were off. He wrenched your shirt up over your head, and you reached for him again.

Your lips drew a hot, wet path from his jawline to his neck, biting and sucking all along the way to that sensitive spot between his neck and shoulder. His hand clenched in your hair, a deep sound caught in his throat when he felt the sharp sting of your teeth, playfully biting, then soothing with your tongue.

Your nails bit into his skin, but merely felt like teasing down his back, making a shiver trill along his spine. He all but pressed you into the mattress as he made his own descent.

Your fingers trailed up and into his hair while his mouth worked its way down between your breasts, stopping to lavish attention on each one. You made sounds of pleasure when he took a hardened nipple between his lips, between his teeth, dragging deliciously over your skin.

Your thighs wrapped around his hips again, He bucked teasingly into your clothed core, making you moan when you felt his wet tip dampening your panties.

“Ben…”

His lips curved, but he didn’t answer you. His fingers were pressing into the flesh of your thigh as he continued to tease your breasts. You’d felt how hard he was already and frankly, you were surprised he was taking his time.

“Listen,” you panted in his ear. “You’ve gotta wrap it up this time. Do we even have condoms?”

You knew for a fact that Ben didn’t buy them. 

But his brows furrowed. His mouth left your breast as he looked up at you.

“What?”

“I haven’t replaced my IUD yet,” you confessed. Its five-year lifespan had been up, and so you’d gotten the birth control device removed a few days ago.

Now, you watched in amusement at the way his lips curved into a pleased grin.

“No, don’t you even think about it,” you warned. Though you almost laughed at how excited he looked. “We’re not ready for that.”

“Why fucking not?” Ben asked. His pressed his length against your core more insistently. The idea of fucking you raw, spilling into you, putting his seed deep inside you without resistance, had his cock throbbing with anticipation.

“Ben!” You had to laugh. You two hadn’t even been living together that long, and you had just gotten on the same page after six months of trying to figure out what you were together.

“Don’t tell me you don’t want kids,” he said. And he began to ply you with tantalizing kisses along the column of your throat, down your neck, the scraping of teeth making you shudder in delight.

“I do,” you could admit. “But is right now really the best ti—”

He choked a moan out of you as his fingers pushed your underwear aside and spread your folds, then delved right in. Your core pulsed, hot and wet as his thick digits sunk deep inside you.

“God,” you uttered, gripping his hair tight. He stretched and explored your inner channel with two fingers, while his thumb found your clit with ease.

“When then?” he asked. But his hand was unrelenting, working you over until your toes curled and the coil in your lower belly began to tighten. You looked up at him helplessly.   

“Can we talk about this later?” you keened. Ben smirked and suddenly withdrew his fingers from your dripping pussy. He snatched your underwear, ripping them down the middle and making you gasp.

“No time like the fucking present,” he insisted. He lined himself up to your entrance, but you stopped him with a warning look. You knew if you let him inside you now, he was going to try and get his way.

“Ben,” you warned.

He sighed and let you stop him, but then his teasing edge faded.

Ben pressed a hand to your cheek. When he leaned down to kiss you, you felt the need and wanting behind it. 

He pulled away to meet your eyes. You softened looking up into his, because you understood what he wanted.

“We have time, baby,” you promised, stroking his chin. “We’ll have a family…just give us some time.”

He was disappointed…but he nodded. Sighing again through his nose, he clenched a hand into the now tangled mess of your hair.

“Say it,” he demanded. “Say you’re fucking mine.”

Your eyes widened. In all of this, you’d forgotten to be honest yourself. 

“Of course I’m yours,” you said. “I love you, Ben. So much, I can hardly take it.” 

He closed his eyes with furrowed brows. It had been a very long time since he’d heard those words. Maybe the first time someone had said them with any real sincerity, besides his mother. 

You encouraged him to look at you, both with your voice and your hand gently touching his face. And when he opened his eyes, you marveled at the depths there. 

Smiling, you guided him back to your lips. It was slow and sweet…until it wasn’t, deepening in passion and urgency again. Need burned inside you, so deep and strong that you couldn't take it anymore.

You slipped a hand between you to grasp his still hard cock. You caressed him a few times, letting your thumb circle around the sensitive head. Ben couldn’t help thrusting into your hand, releasing a grunt. His eyes briefly closed again as you pressed open-mouthed kisses to his neck, down his chest.

“I need you,” you whispered against his skin. Ben nodded while you held his length poised at your entrance. He raised your hips, tucking your ankles over shoulders. For your injured one, he rubbed your calf.

“What a fuckin’ trooper,” he said with a smirk.

You smiled, but it soon fell into a moan as he began to push inside you. Every time, he stretched and filled you completely. Your inner walls wrapped around him and already fluttered with heat.

“Fuck, baby doll. Got me tight as a damn glove,” Ben remarked. You had to giggle, but that just squeezed him harder. When he began to move, it was all you could do to cling to his shoulders.

As basic as the position was, you liked being able to see his face. You knew when to spur him on, and when to just hold on for dear fucking life. But above all, he was a skilled man, and you enjoyed watching him work.

You were so consumed by it that when he came, it took both of you by surprise. He spilled into you hot and deep, but he still filled you with ragged thrusts, which hit that special place inside that made your entire body shudder with pleasure. You couldn’t help but come apart with him.

Your nails bit fruitlessly into his skin as your voice rose on a high moan. The two of you panted for breath, and he pulled out and let down your legs back to the bed. Once you felt the telltale dripping of his release slipping down from between your legs, your eyes widened. 

Oh shit, you thought. “We forgot the condom.”

Ben stared down at you, first in confusion, then in surprise. And finally, with a broad, Cheshire-like grin.

You laid a hand over your eyes as you relaxed into the pillow behind your head, trying not to laugh.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” you said.

“We? I was following your lead,” Ben said. He moved to lay beside you in full satisfaction, folding his hands over his chest. He looked like the cat that caught the horny-ass canary.

"Haven't you heard of, oh, I don't know, pulling out?" you quipped. Ben rose a brow at you, still with that smug look on his face.

"Not my philosophy, sweetheart," he said.

Your mouth dropped open incredulously. Your gaze narrowed, but looking into his gleaming eyes, you really just had to laugh. His smile grew.

Ugh. Whatever, you thought. For now, you closed your legs and moved over to rest your head on his shoulder. He welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.

What’re the chances that I’m ovulating anyway? you thought.

After a beat, you huffed another laugh. With your luck, you’d definitely have to stop at a drugstore for a pregnancy test.

And yet, in times like these, you were happy that you caved when Ben insisted on installing a TV in the bedroom. After you both got cleaned up, it was nice to fall into bed like you used to and find something new to watch together.

There were so many things you wanted him to catch up on, and he was generally game for whatever you thought he might like.

Three episodes of The Office later though, you stopped laughing so much and fell into your thoughts. Ben noticed, tugging on a loose strand of your hair.

“What’s the matter?”

“You really think our apartment is a shithole?” you asked.

He shrugged. “I might’ve embellished.”

“Seriously. If you’re not comfortable here—”

“I’m comfortable,” he said, turning his gaze to you. “Why’re you asking me that now?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “I just want you to be happy here. I want this to feel like home for both of us, but not like, boring either.” 

He smirked. “Hence the caravan of whores and blow.” 

You shook your head with a laugh. But he still saw you trying to stem off that worry. That all this wasn’t enough for him. 

Well, Ben could complain about being cramped in this three-bedroom apartment…but he knew that when he came home, he wouldn’t be alone. 

He’d be able to see your stuff on the nightstand, by your side of the bed, your half of the closet, your sweet-smelling soaps and lotions in the bathroom. All of that was familiar to him now. 

It was home, he supposed. And so were you.

The beginnings of a softer smile curved his lips, but he edged it into a smirk.  

“You’ve got something they don’t,” he said. 

“What’s that?” you asked, raising a brow. 

“You try the ever-living fuck out of my patience,” he said, “unlike anyone on the planet.” 

With a giggle, you rolled over onto his arm and chest, resting your head on his shoulder. 

“Buuut…?” 

He conceded with a nod, if also a roll of his eyes. His arm lifted to once again slip around your waist.

“But no matter how fucked up it got, you stayed.”

With me, his tone implied.

“That’s more than anyone else in my goddamn life,” he said.

And that made you tear up all over again.

“So you’re staying,” you clarified, only half-teasing.

It reminded you of when you’d sat tied to a chair, wondering why the hell Soldier Boy would want to let you live. You could’ve never known it then, but you’d stared straight into the face of your future.

You didn’t know if Ben was remembering the same thing, but he smiled a little, brushing away your tears with his thumb.

“I’m staying,” he replied. Your smile brightened, and you leaned up for a kiss.

“Then we’re square,” you whispered against his lips. 

He chuckled and deepened the kiss. He turned off the TV, chucking the remote further down the bed and turned to trap you beneath him again.

“Nope.” You finished wiping your eyes and pushed against his chest. “You’re not finessing me twice. Go find a damn condom.”

He gave you a grumpy look. “Fucking killjoy.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you laughed. You reached up and took his face in your hands.

“I promised, didn’t I?” you reminded. “We’ll get there.”

His gaze searched yours.

“Soon, not someday,” he said. You nodded, soothing your thumb across his cheek.

“Soon,” you agreed. And you reminded him, even as your throat constricted once more with emotion. “Ben, I love you…God, I love you. And I’ve never wanted this with anyone but you.”

Ben paused, but after a moment, he nodded in acceptance. You were grateful for it. Even though you weren’t quite ready yet, he wasn’t the only one who wanted a family.

While your fractured past and upbringing made it hard for you to move past your fears, your insecurities, you knew that this man made you feel safe.

For the first time in your life, you also felt whole.

Soon enough, you’d be brave too.

AN: That's all, folks. Been a great ride...

Ha! Just kidding. I'm nowhere near done with these two, even with this long-ass epilogue lol.

But honestly, no matter what part of the journey you jumped into with this story, thank you so much for sticking with me until the end. It's truly been one of my favorite stories ever to write. And I'm so glad I got the chance to share it with you. 🥹💚🥹

Next Time:

Ready for Part 2 (of 3) of "Love Actually"?

(AKA: Ben is forced to attend Christmas dinner to meet his girlfriend's whole family.)

Here's a sneak peek:

“Hey. What’s taking so damn long?” he asked. His brows were furrowed, mouth set in an aggravated frown. “I already told you. I’m not planning on being at this thing all night. So if you don’t come down here in the next ten minutes, I swear to fucking Christ—” 

Ben stopped short, as he heard your footsteps at the top of the stairs. When he looked up with expectant, pursed lips, his face subtly froze. 

“What? What’re you gonna do?” you teased. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you grasped the guardrail and carefully made your way down the stairs. These heels were no joke...

😂 Until then, let me know what you thought of the BMD finale! 💚💚

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#The Epilogue #the boys #soldier boy #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #the boys season 3 #soldier boy/ben x reader #the boys au #enemies to lovers #frenemies to lovers #private investigator!reader #the boys amazon #soldier boy smut #break me down #Part 18 #zepskies writes

[livingdeadmlm]

saw MK on your list i am clicking my heels and bursting into song. a kung lao fic would be awesome. i feel like no one gives him the attention he deserves

I LOVE KUNG LAO hes so silly I'm a little rusty with MK characters but I'm using what i remember from the games since i played it as a kid

Ill do some SFW and NSFW hcs of dating kung lao a mix of modern day hcs and in game hcs

SFW

What a cutie am I right? he knows it and you know it so he uses that to his advantage.

He likes to say some weird shit and when you ask about it he just looks at you confused

"Did you let in the grass light morning?"

What did you say?"

"??? Nothing babe what are you talking about?"

dinner dates ooooo

Going out to eat and cooking together he considers a good date

In the modern age, he definitely is a gym goer and loves to go to Planet Fitness to set off the lunk alarm. You don't have to work out yourself but if you go with him he tries to show off more than usual hoping that you'd throw some praise his way.

Either has the latest phone or the oldest one known to man no in between

in-game you are his assisted fighter and have a duo fatalities. kinda like In Eyes of Heaven

matching accessories can be bought for the two of you.

calls you baby girl even if you're a guy.

thinks about you all the time at work and how he can't wait to get home and eat and lay down with you

he flirts with you in public places like he's a stranger and you are the lead in a romcom

people in the shop staring as it seems like a romance blossoming before them but it's less interesting when they see once again it is Kung lao flirting with the same man as many times before

NSFW

He believes in fairness so you best believe that both of you leave satisfied no matter what.

Probably not much experience to be had out on the farms but man does he get the hang of everything quick

Head game goes crazy, He is scarily good at it and loves doing it as well

He is not into hitting or anything, he doesn't like the idea of actually hurting each other.

Tug his hair though that's his one exception

He understands taking things slow and will most of the time but at the start of the relationship he gets pretty excited fast and is really hansy grabbing at your hips, legs, and ass like you'll vanish once he lets go

occasionally he still gets that way but has some more self-control

kinda likes getting frisky in risky places and alleyways and when there are people up and walking around in a shared place

his adrenaline spikes but never goes all the way, he insists that that's too far.

if there is distance he sends nudes for sure

with shitty camera quality, he means well and sends them seriously but its hard to keep the mood up when all you have is an 8-bit photo to work with

When you've been on top he has placed his hat on your head, strokes his pride to see it on you while you're enjoying yourself

Probability a Power bottom

#male reader #mortal kombat x male reader #Kung lao x male reader #Kung lao x nb reader #M!Reader #x male reader

[jaelaxies]

𝐩𝐫𝐟𝐜𝐭

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･

fluff; wc: 726.

Jay x fem reader!; Band au!; Guitarist Jay au!; Bassist reader!; College au!; tw: some mild cursing.

Song recommendation: Gorgeous —Taylor Swift (reputation)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･

Ever since I knew him, he always had me on edge. I could never decipher that flirty smile and those damned dimples; 99% of the time, I was bewitched by him and his demeanor, just like everyone else. Jay just had this aura about him, that made him fit in, made everyone fall under this imaginary spellbound that was so strong that even I, a skeptic of it, fell for. It put me in quite the dilemma dare I say. Being in a band with him just made everything feel like I was starring in some dramatic, coming of age, romantic kind of cliché movie.

Of course, Jay was charming by his looks: he had beautiful golden kissed tan skin, sharp jawline and matching features but what attracted people the most was his smile. Even I was trapped in the same cage. But even so...

There were things about Jay that people seemed to take for granted; like his kindness, the dimples when he laughed hard about some shitty joke that anyone would make or the way his soul just seemed to belong on stage. He was born a performer, when he was on stage or practicing: he was as passionate as if it was a real deal. I admired him from afar, wondering how people couldn’t take all of those things as perfection.

And in one afternoon rehearsal, I think I got my answer.

—Do you know that your brain automatically reads things even if they are spelled incorrectly? — Said Heeseung as he was adjusting the mic, just testing the sound but really the question was directed at whoever paid him attention.

—Just like how Jay is “prfct”

Sunoo replied while writing it on the board and nudging said man while doing so. I finally looked up at started listening more attentively to what they were chatting about; almost immediately our eyes met each other and for one reason I cannot decipher right now, I just locked my gaze with his, again, wondering what his next move could be. I always wanted to test him and I didn’t know why.

—No one is perfect. — I said, while tilting my head a little; trying my best to not sound rude while still looking at him. For the first time, I could sense curiosity slippering through his orbs like a ray of lightning— If we all settled out for perfection, we would all settle for an incredibly stupid and unreachable goal.

For a split second, the room fell silent and then I saw the most unexpected reaction from the guys. Sunoo and Heeseung were smiling and nodding and… so was Jay, but the way he had a full grin on his face and was scratching his neck, who was slightly red in tone, was completely out of character for him.

—What? — I said, almost wanting to apologize if I ruined the mood or spoke harshly without really thinking about his feelings.

—It’s because I knew you would say that. It's the way you are...— Jay said, getting out of the grip that Sunoo had on him and walked to where I was, sitting right next to me; far away enough from me to count his lashes and notice a different spark in the way his eyes shone. — Perfect isn’t your thing, sweetheart.

He tilted his head, and I could see a slight blush forming on the tip of his ears but he was still smiling like he had just found a diamond in a pile of rocks. Again, I was holding my breath and my palms became sweaty; surely my face was flushed pink too. — That’s one of the reasons I like you.

I sat there speechless; for the first time, I got the unfamiliar sensation of roaming butterflies in my whole ribcage and dumbfounded, I looked down. Having my question finally answered by none other than myself.

Perfect wasn’t my thing because Jay was.

I didn’t set a standard for him like I had with everyone because at the end of the day I would always like this Jay; no matter how much questions I tried to ask myself I would always get the same answer: Perfect or not, it was Just Jay who I liked.

And smiling like an idiot there I sat, realizing that he had just reciprocated a feeling I didn’t even knew I had.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･

OH BOY THE CONFIDENCE THE AURA IN THIS ERA BY JAY IS NO JOKE

also sorry if it felt too short i wanted to dust my keyboard first, jk i will try to make even better stories that's why im diving into different formats.

I had this idea in the back of my head for quite a bit after seeing the styling and the stages for sweet venom (certified platinum bop) but then moving out of town hit me like a truck and I was like oh well, but now:

we are officially back everyone!!!

 I would like to thank everyone who has been supporting my works and kindly liking them or just reblogging them, it makes me really happy and motivated; also, don’t be shy, if you wanna be moots just send an ask 🤍

My taglist is also open; you can request via ask to be added to the taglist of my masterlist or just any post I make!

As always, feedback is really appreciated and I’ll love if you could reblog or comment if you really liked this one!

With love, *°࿐Stella🤍

#k films #k labels #kbookshelf #enhypen fluff #enhypen #jay #jay x reader #jay x you #jay fluff #enhypen hyung line #sunghoon #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x y/n #park sunghoon #heeseung #park jongseong #jake #enhypen au #heeseung fluff #jake fluff #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon scenarios #park jongsung #jay moodboard

[kairiscorner]

Hiii I'm Back >:)

What about a Noir x fem reader where they go on a date/hanging out but Peter is like abnormally horny and the reader is oblivious LOL.

HELLO AGAIN @sabcandoit!! okay this one is a pretty silly one :>> SURE THING LMAO (don't ask why i used the same gif, he just looks so funni)

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

"dearest..." peter called from behind you as you were busy preparing dinner. he wrapped his arms around you as he nuzzled his head against the crook of your neck, peppering kisses against your neck and cheeks. you giggled at the display of affection from your dearest as you kept washing the vegetables at the sink. "yes, dear?" you asked him, entertaining him without turning around, with a sweet smile on your face.

peter placed his hands on your waist and chuckled. "why, aren't you just so..." he trailed off as he rubbed at your sides slowly, smiling against your cheek all slyly. "aren't you just so lovely tonight?" he asked in a seemingly innocent voice, but it spoke with different intentions, intentions that were anything but innocent. you chuckled at his compliment and leaned into his relentless kisses. "and aren't you just so handsy tonight, pete?" you say with a slight giggle as you pulled away from his touch to get a few utensils you needed to make dinner.

peter followed you to the other side of the kitchen, thinking you were doing this to play hard to get. luckily for him, he knows how to play your game like the back of his hand. he chuckled to himself as he wrapped you in an embrace yet again, his grip tightening around your forearms to keep you from escaping or doing anything at all, really. you playfully rolled your eyes. "peter..." you said in a fake annoyed tone. he kissed the back of your head as he asked you, "what, love?" he went back to kissing your neck up and down, and soon, began kissing your shoulder and breathing heavier as he looked up at you and smirked. "peter." you repeated in a more serious tone as you set down your utensils and leaned against his touch.

peter thought he would finally convince you and give you what he's longed to give you in a while, finally, he'd be able to have you all for himself tonight. he chuckled and grinned mischievously at you. "yes, my loving spouse?" he asked in a sing-song voice as he put his chin on your shoulder. "i'm cooking." you promptly said, which disheartened peter and made his grin disappear from his face. "but..." he tried to convince you to keep the mood, which had already been shattered, keep going--but you just weren't getting the hint. you giggled as you pulled out of peter's loosening grip. "i'll make your favorite tonight, peter. that's probably what you've been doing, buttering me up for earlier." you said with a giggle, thinking you figured out exactly what peter wanted. but no, you couldn't be any farther from the truth.

peter retired to the living room, slumping down on an armchair as he sighed. he wanted to light a cigarette, take a long drag and hope that'd make his... urges go away. and so, he got up and off the armchair and lit his cigarette when he was finally out at the veranda. "peter, dinner's ready." you called out to him, and he turned around. to your dismay, he was smoking. but he swore he'd only smoke one cigarette, and only if he really felt like it. you sighed. "what's wrong, pete?" you asked as you approached him. he took the cigarette out of his mouth and put it out, letting it fall to the ground as its ashes spread and made a small mess.

he ran a hand through his hair, sighed, and looked at your concerned face. he tried to smile, but it came off quite forced. "nothing's wrong, dearest. i just... i wanted to... do things with you tonight." he said as he took your hands and rubbed his thumbs over your knuckles, admiring how smooth your skin felt, how right your hands fit into his own.

you tilted your head to the side. "but wasn't your whole show for me tonight enough? i made your favorite, you had your way, we did things tonight and i loved it. did... you not--"

"no, no, love, it's... it's more than just hugging and kissing that i want." he said as he placed his hand behind your head, and you brought your head up to look at him in the eyes. his eyes told a different story, a story of a man who longed to please his wife and satiate his own needs. he rubbed his thumb against you cheek, and with his smile and expression softening, he leaned in closer to you. "and i still really want it, love." he said as you leaned closer to him, getting the scent of burning tobacco in through your nose as he breathed against your skin.

and in an instant, you finally understood what he really wanted from you, what he needed from you. you connected your lips with his and wrapped your arms around his neck. as you two forgot about your dinner and made out at the veranda, you were planning on so many things to do with peter that night. and that'd only be the beginning, you had to make up for all the hard work he's been doing trying to get your attention, and wouldn't you be just excited for that?

a/n: SORRY IF IT SUCKS, i'm not very experienced in writing this kind of stuff for noir, but i hope you like it :'>> TY FOR THE REQUEST THOUGH !!

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @sabcandoit @binibinileonara @k4tsu3 @luvstarrstruck @connors-cumslurper @maxoloqy

#spider noir #spider noir x reader #spider noir x you #spider noir x y/n #spider noir fanfiction #itsv x reader #itsv x you #itsv x y/n #itsv imagines #itsv noir #itsv

[barzysunflower]

sweet nothing

mat barzal x reader

note: I just wrote this in 30 minutes so if it’s bad I’m sorry. Also I just wanted to post it now even though I have 10 (yes ten) already started fic I need to finish. And ik I keep promising something else but my brain does what it wants and I need to be in the right mood to write something lol

no warnings (except bad spelling & grammar, sorry it’s late lol) just very soft

based on the taylor swift song ‘sweet nothing’

The Islanders were having a great start to their season, definitely a step up from the previous one. They were really able to showcase their abilities and hard work they put in during the off season and it showed. They were winning many games and fighting hard every night. Your boyfriend Mat was doing really well also, skating fast like he always did and setting up his teammates to score beautiful goals. Unfortunately, while being one of the most valuable players, he hadn’t scored yet. He was racking up points in assists, but no goals.

And it was starting to get to him. The media and fans were almost tearing him apart after every game he didn’t score. While playing well, all they seem to care about is goals and they were starting to question his validity as a player, especially one who was about to be paid $9 million a year. Mat is an emotional guy and while he tries hard to stay offline and ignore the talk surrounding him, it was getting difficult because he was always the main topic. He’s tried to act tough and like he didn’t care, but it was slowly eating away at him.

One night, you were watching the home game from your apartment, because you had some work to finish. Throughout the game, you could see how frustrated Mat was with himself, his body language and facial expressions giving away what he was feeling. You felt so bad for him, but didn’t know how to help him out. Just being there for him would have to suffice. This night, after a long hard fight, the Isles lost and you knew Mat was going to be extremely emotional when he got home.

So you made him some brownies. Even sprinkled some candy cane shavings into the batter to make it more special. Chocolate is always to answer when you feel down.

When you finally heard the keys jiggle in the door lock, you went to go greet him in the entry way. He looked tired and beat and all you wanted to do was hug him. So you did. You wrapped your arms as tightly around him as possible, clinging to him like a monkey. His grip tightened against you as well, as if he was scared he was going to lose you. “Hi,” you whispered in his ear after a couple of minutes.

He pulled back a little, still holding you close, and brushed his lips against your forehead and down your nose. “Hey. How was your day?”

“Pretty good, but lots of work, so I’m tired.”

“Me, too,” he said quietly, dropping his forehead against yours. Your hand went up to cup is face, stroking his cheek softly with your thumb. “What smells so good?”

“Oh crap!” You quickly separated from him, running into the kitchen. You forgot to set a new timer for the brownies after they came out too batter-ie after their initial 30 minutes. They would probably be a little too dry for your liking now.

“What happened?,” Mat asked as he followed you into the kitchen. The knife test revealed that indeed no more batter was stuck to it and that they’d most like be dry.

You let out and upset sigh before answering. “I made you brownies. But I forgot the timer and they’re probably really dry now.”

He cracked a smile in response, one that made your heart burst with happiness. “You made me brownies? Why?”

“I don’t know, I just wanted to cheer you up. I know you’ve been struggling lately and that things aren’t going to way you want it. And I know you don’t try to let it get to you, but I saw how frustrated you were today during the game. And I’m sorry I wasn’t able to be there, so I thought you could use a little pick me up.” His face fell, revealing again how exhausted he was, and in a couple of long strides he reached you and pulled you into his arms. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and held you tightly, needing your comfort. You gently stroked the back of his head and his back, placing soft kisses to the side of his head as well.

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. Everyone is shitting on me for not scoring, but I’m playing well.” He lifted his head and took a deep breath. “I’m trying. I’m trying so fucking hard, but people don’t see that. And it’s getting so hard not listen to them. They’re in my head when I play and I don’t know how to get them out again. I’m trying! But it’s getting really hard.”

He teared up a little by the end to which you immediately kissed him to calm him. You didn’t care if he cried in front of you, but it broke your heart. “I know you’re trying, babe. And you are playing so well. I’m so proud of you. Those people don’t know what they’re talking about. They’ve never been in your position. You’re getting your teammates to score, isn’t that enough?”

“Apparently not.”

“But if it’s good enough for you, that’s all that matters. Acceptance is key. And I know it’s not easy, but it’ll make you feel better.” You kissed him again and smiled. “And maybe think of me every time it’s getting at you, because I don’t care how many goals you score.”

“More than I already do?” He smiled softly, pulling you back into him. “I love you. Thank you for letting me soft around you.”

“I love you, too. That’s what I’m here for.” He kissed you one more time, before stepping back, eyeing the brownies on the counter.

“I’m exhausted. Let’s go to bed and eat those dry ass brownies.” Slapping him softly on his arm, you took the rude comment, just happy to see him smile.

#mat barzal #mathew barzal #mat barzal fic #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fluff #mat barzal imagine #nhl fics #nhl imagine #new york islanders #mat barzal x reader #nhl fanfiction #sweet nothing #taylor swift

[j0kers-light]

His Lighthouse: Mind Games (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Mind Games

series summary:  

Y/n is an aspiring writer living in Gotham City and struggling to find her next muse. Her recent novel is getting all the buzz, earning her far more attention than she signed up for. But when a chance encounter results in her nursing The Joker back to health, will she find the time to write another best seller or will her own story become front page of the Gotham Gazette?

chapter summary:

The mind is a dangerous weapon, you should know this firsthand. Surely this all can't be real? But if so.. then who's lying? And who's telling the truth?

author's note:

Its been far too long loves! I'm back with a new update and boy is this one a doozy! Forget everything you thought happened last chapter and just read from the top! Things will slowly start to make sense or trick you. I hope you enjoy either way! I had a song selected for this chapter but in the end, it didn't fit the overall mood. Maybe next time.

taglist:

@blackreaderatrisk @twinkledinkle @clemdango04 @l3ejm @tears-of-amber @what-an-angel @darthjokerisyourfather @thatsnoteii @dollster  @cheetahspy @kaidennnnn @urdariingdoll @motivation-idontknowher @ins0mniac-whack

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

Last Chapter | Next Chapter

When did your mind start playing tricks on you? Did you hallucinate the entire conversation or just bits and pieces? When did it all go horribly wrong?

Your head was pounding and you didn't remember a thing after Bruce stepped closer to you.

When your back hit the balcony railing, it set off a trigger that made you instantly disassociate. You didn't hear Bruce's smooth voice after that as it was replaced with another from your past— one that you tried so hard to forget. It was sickly sweet and made you feel dirty inside and out.

Words and phrases were twisted around until you didn't know what to believe anymore. The background changed from your rooftop balcony to that damp and dark alleyway and that's when you knew nothing beyond this point was real.

Deep down you knew Bruce would never be this cruel but you couldn't be too sure. He was a gentleman... this wasn't real, but your mind made it seem very realistic.

Your memories from that night were back and you couldn't bear to relive it again.

'It's not real.' You repeated over and over as your mind spiraled out of control.

Bruce noticed you were shivering and covered your shoulders with a heavy blanket. He sighed when you tensed up and wrapped the fabric around yourself like a shield. You were so jumpy lately, it really had him concerned.

He didn't understand why you were so distant towards him. Bruce could be the bigger person here and ask why despite the awkward tension festering between the two of you.

"How do I say this? You've been distant lately. Especially to me." He said. He wasn't expecting your timid voice to respond so quickly.

"Uh.. yeah? I hope so since I broke things off with you and if you haven't noticed over dinner— I've moved on. You're the one that keeps being nice and trying to get along with my parents.."

Bruce strained to hear what else you said under your breath but he caught your eyes blinking a mile a minute. That was unusual.

"Y/n, are you alright?" He asked.

"Yeah." You said without missing a beat.

He frowned and stepped closer, causing you to back away and hit the balcony railing with your hip. You slurred more of your words together.

"Are you sure? You look unwell, Y/n. Perhaps we should get you inside."

You were mumbling under your breath but Bruce couldn't hear a word. He knew something was wrong when you held your head and started hyperventilating. Then it hit him. You were having a panic attack.

His Batman instincts immediately kicked in.

"Breathe in and out, Y/n. Whatever it is, it's not real. Can you hear me? Y/n?" You avoided his touch but Bruce was persistent in trying to calm you down.

"Whatever is hurting you Y/n, please let me inand—"

Bruce never heard a scream as blood curdling as yours.

It's like he said the magic words and triggered old memories, for you immediately began fighting his hold, kicking and screaming with all your might. Bruce was a strong individual, with or without the bat suit, but he struggled trying to keep you still. You were too close to the balcony ledge for his liking so he corralled you back towards the apartment to keep you safe.

Everyone in the penthouse heard your horrified scream and woke up out of their slumber to investigate.

Your mom and dad were unfortunately veterans to this and knew exactly what was going on so they rushed straight to the scene.

Barbara, Morgana, and Dick however stumbled out of their rooms and followed the commotion out onto the balcony, not truly understanding what was going on in.

They all arrived to witness you screaming at the top of your lungs and clawing at Bruce's arms like a feral cat. He was trying to calm you down but the scene looked rather odd without any context.

Your parents would walk in while the two of you were in a suggestive position.

Bruce did a double take at the shocked audience and shouted, "Don't just stand there, help me!" You resorted to biting him and he almost lost his grip on you again if not for his leg pinning you down.

Your mother panicked seeing you in a fit of hysterics and she couldn't blame you. You were being manhandled during such a delicate situation.

"Let go of her!" She rushed to Bruce's side and snatched you out of his hold.

The second you felt a female presence, you stopped fighting back but continued to cry uncontrollably.

Your father slid to your side but kept his distance as to not set you off again. He felt useless not being able to help in your time of need yet your mother quickly stepped up to the plate in his stead.

"It's okay sweetheart. It's over, it's over. He's gone. You're safe now. It's all over." Your mother shushed in your ear. She rocked you like a baby as you choked back tears.

"P-Please stop! It hurts!" You wailed. Your mother blinked back her own tears while rubbing your back in big comforting circles. Your father met her gaze as they held a private conversation.

It's happening again.

"It's not real, Y/n. You're safe now." Mom glanced at Bruce's bloody arms and winced. "Babe, can you go find the first aid kit for Bruce?" She whispered to your dad so you wouldn't hear.

Everyone's eyes focused on the angry red claw marks your nails left on Bruce. Just what happened here? Your father grimaced at the bite mark but stood up to make himself useful.

You pleaded again, trapped in a distant memory and Morgana choked back a sob hearing her friend in so much pain.

It was too much to witness and she turned away to cry. Dick stood off to the side, oddly quiet, but concerned for his sister. Everyone was.

Barbara couldn't stand the silence and cried out, "What happened Bruce?"

Multiple curious eyes watched the billionaire rub the back of his head. Your father came back with the first aid kit and started accessing the damage you left. "She's still a fighter (mother's name). I bet these hurt like a mf, lemme see." 

Bruce had suffered worse injuries but your nails were rather sharp so he let your father dab alcohol on each scratch to flush out the blood. Bruce had yet to answer the question on everyone's mind.

Your mother looked Bruce dead in the eye and arched an eyebrow. He thought he was gonna get the scolding of a lifetime at the intense e/c staring him down.

He started from the top and explained.

"I genuinely do not know. It's chilly out so I came to offer Y/n a blanket. I tried striking up a conversation about what happened over dinner but she started blinking excessively and clutching her head as if she had a headache. Her back hit the railing and I think she began to have a panic attack. When I tried to calm her down, she became combative."

You whimpered in your mother's arms as you finally fell asleep. She sighed in relief and swapped places with your dad.

She knew he felt useless and he gladly held you close now that you were unconscious and unaware of a male's touch. Your mom waved Bruce over and set about applying Neosporin to his scratches.

They were rather deep but they would heal in a few days time. He declined bandaids and she snapped the first aid kit closed and spoke.

"Don't blame yourself for this. Y/n had a very stressful day and her mind isn't functioning properly because of it."

"That doesn't explain what happened? Is Y/n okay?!" Morgana returned to the conversation with tear tracks still visible on her face.

She never seen you so distraught before. It was like a completely different person possessed your body just then. What kind of friend was she to not notice how much pain you were hiding? She wasn't any better than Florence.

Barbara was thinking the exact same thing. You needed solid friends right now and she was the worst one imaginable.

Your mother took a look around and sighed at the somber air on the balcony. She was emotionally drained after consoling you and it appeared that everyone else was drained as well.

"I think it's time to address the elephant in the room." She sighed. Your father shared a look with his wife. "You think Y/n will like that?"

Mom rolled her neck and snapped.

"D__n it, (father's name)! These are her friends! This episode clearly shows she's been suffering alone! They can help if they know what's going on! She can't keep bottling this up forever; it's killing her. Do you like seeing her like this? Reliving that night every time she's touched the wrong way or backed into a corner?"

Your father bit out his reply. "Of course I don't! But when Y/n wakes up and sees everyone eyeing her in pity, she'll recluse herself again. It's why she moved in the first place. Not everybody heals the way y'all doctors assume people should!"

Dick sighed and stepped in between the feuding couple. This could go on all night if someone didn't stop them.

They both eyed Dick, wondering what the charismatic boy was fixing to say.

"Unofficial, but official, adopted parents please. Go get Y/n situated then meet us back in the living room." Dick didn't wait for them to respond, he just asked Morgana and Bruce to follow him inside as he helped Barbara's wheelchair get over the balcony's sliding door hump.

Your parents didn't dispute his request. They got you settled in bed before coming back out into the living room with no further arguments.

Your friends were gathered around your living room in various stages of alertness. Dick handed out drinks to go with the sweets Barbara baked earlier.

After being woken up so abruptly, sugar was vital to stay awake.

Exhaustion was all around but this was an important meeting that was about to transpire. Not a second could be missed.

Your dad sat down with a sigh and pulled your mother into his lap.

They finally looked their age as they gathered their thoughts to begin. The air in the room was heavy for the next hour and a half as they explained everything to your closest friends.

What they had to say was absolutely horrifying.

"You sure you'll be alright dear?" Your mother asked.

She stood in the foyer as Dick and her husband loaded the car downstairs with leftovers early Friday morning.

The morning came with hushed trepidation but the crew was forced to eat breakfast without you.

You had slept on through the night without any other episodes and your mother didn't anticipate for you to wake up until late this afternoon.

Her and your father had to head back to Blüdhaven and Dick offered to drive them so they didn't have to catch a train. Bruce had to head into the office for board meetings and after apologizing to your parents, (your mother assured the billionaire that this wasn't his fault) he left with the promise that he would check on you later today.

Barbara wanted to stick around but she had to return to work herself which left Morgana volunteering to stay at your penthouse to take care of you.

The perks of being your own boss, she joked. 'You make your own hours.'

Morgana smiled at your mother and nodded.

"Yes ma'am, I'll be alright. Dick showed me around so I got a feel of the place. Leftovers are in the fridge so if she wakes up, I'll make sure she eats and provide her lots of emotional support. You told me what to do if she... that happens again." Morgana scratched her cheek, still processing all that was discussed last night. Or rather this morning.

Bruce, Barbara, Dick, and Morgana saw you in a new light after your parents revealed your dark past and they each swore not to cast a shred of pity on you.

You needed them more than you let on.

Barbara and Morgana were beside themselves hearing about your past and they felt awful for almost ruining a friendship over a silly rumor Florence hatched up. That was the least of their concerns right now. Getting you back in high spirits was the only priority.

Morgana called her employees and asked them to deliver a crate of assorted flowers to your apartment building.

You loved her creations so she would surprise you with a giant bouquet for your apartment. It was a tiny gesture in the grand scheme of things but Morgana was willing to do anything to make you happy after last night.

Flowers could liven up the place and ward off bad spirits. She made a mental note to water your sunroom plants while she was here.

"Well dear, you have my number if you need me." Your mother hugged Morgana right as Dick came through the door saying they were ready to go. "You take good care of my baby! We'll be back in a few more weeks." She said.

"Call me if you have a question, Morgana!" Dick offered to the florist.

Morgana waved them both off and closed the door after more pleasantries were exchanged.

Your parents were super cool. Morgana was lucky to have met them even despite the terrible circumstances. She sighed to herself and thought aloud. "What a day.. and it just started."

She had the place to herself until you woke up so she went about accessing the state of your household plants.

They looked a little worse for wear and could stand a special treatment.

The day trickled on and Morgana spent the majority of it working on the lush floral display her employees dropped off at your place. She twisted exotic and local flowers into a gorgeous statement piece but something was missing.

Morgana was wracking her head around exactly what when she swore she heard your bedroom door close.

"Y/n?"

She looked towards the hallway but didn't see anything. A glance at the clock set the day around one in the afternoon.

Your mother was right about you sleeping in. It meant this happened numerous times in the past for her to have a predetermined schedule.

Morgana shivered. How long have you suffered like this?

She saw a blanket-clad figure float down the hallway and set a pink rose down to follow you.

"Y/n are you..." You slammed the door shut right in her face.

Morgana stuttered in shock but pushed it back open only to watch you crawl under the covers. This was so unlike you. "Y/n are you hungry?" She asked hesitantly.

You shifted under the covers away from Morgana's gentle voice.

Your mom warned her that you'd be antisocial for the next twenty-four hours but urged the florist to get some food and water in you. You lost a lot of fluids from crying last night and needed to replenish yourself or risk getting sick.

Morgana sighed at your lack of response but left to fix you a simple plate of food to eat with some water. You were still a hermit when she returned to the bedroom. You were gonna make this babysitting thing difficult.

Morgana sat the glass of water down on the nightstand should you wake up thirsty.

"I left some water and a plate of food if you feel up to it, Y/n." She said.

You remained buried under covers with no plans of returning to the real world. Dick had invaded Joker's room and erased the comforting scent of lighter fluid and cinnamon from the bed sheets.

With the sea of uncertainty floating within your head, you needed something familiar to ground you to the present. You craved Joker and his unique scent but he was nowhere to be found.

You whimpered dejectedly and Morgana's heart went out to you.

She wanted to offer you some emotional support but decided to leave you be. No words of encouragement could help the pain you were in.

She checked on you one last time before leaving your room. Her mind was focused on you and not her surroundings. She received the jump scare of a lifetime when she turned the corner.

"Holy s__t!" Morgana yelped.

Joker pursed his lips and watched your friend try to scramble away. Morgana knocked a figurine on the hallway table over but remained on her feet for the most part. The bauble smashed onto the floor in several pieces and Joker hummed offhandedly at its demise.

"I uh li-ked that one. So! I'm guessing you're the... florist friend."

He blocked her escape and tilted his head in a show of intimidation. It worked like a charm. Morgana's brown eyes were wide like saucers.

"Y/n likes your work. The uhh.. arrangements.. from Arrange Me NoT.. ya see. I wasn't ex-pect-ting visitors so uh sorry bout this..." Joker went to grab Morgana but she shoved the decorative table in his direction and bolted down the hallway.

Joker sighed and gave her a head's start before he easily caught up to her in the living room.

He yanked her back by her hair and Morgana, ever mindful of you trying to sleep, stifled her scream with her palm.

Her back collided with the wall as Joker held a knife up to her throat. It was natural that she panicked but she did so for an entirely different reason.

"You can't kill me, it'll tear Y/n apart!" Morgana looked Joker dead in the eye and pleaded her case. He rolled his eyes and nudged her jugular with his knife.

"S-She's hurting! She's hurting and we didn't know!! If you kill me it'll only make things worse on her! Please, I want to take care of my friend, I won't tell a-anyone! I-I-I promise!" Morgana started to sob but Joker could care less.

He furrowed his brows and gripped his knife tighter, "Whaddya mean.. 'Y/n is hurting?"

Morgana scanned Joker's face. His makeup was more terrifying in person than on tv.

The clown looked serious but she didn't know the guy well enough to know for sure so she asked aloud. "Y-You don't know?"

J rolled his eyes again and smacked his lips. "I wouldn't asK if I diD, now would I? Who. HurT. Her?" Morgana flinched every time he stressed a syllable.

Now, Morgana was a sensible woman. She was book and street smart and used them well in life.

Even with her back literally against the wall, she wouldn't show fear; it wasn't in her free spirited nature. She faced fear with a straight face and dealt with the consequences later, however; this man was worse than fear.

The Joker was unpredictable and unnaturally calm with everything he did. He held her at knifepoint with a lazy grin as if it didn't matter if she answered or not.

She would die regardless.

Her life didn't matter to him so she had to think smart to stay alive. She resorted to her business savvy skills.

Morgana had information that Joker didn't know about and that put a value on her life. It would buy her some time to escape at least.

She nodded to herself and began to work.

"Will you let me go? I-I'll tell you anything, just.. not while being held at knifepoint." Morgana glanced at the weapon resting precariously on her jugular. Any more pressure and the edge would puncture the skin.

Joker narrowed his eyes but guided Morgana over to the kitchen island by her arm after thinking things over. He wanted to hear what she had to say.

He pushed her towards a barstool and leaned down right in her face.

He hoped his fear tactics weren't rusty from misuse yet Morgana looked ready to pass out. His presence alone had her on edge.

"Start. Talking." Joker ordered.

Morgana nodded and closed her eyes. He wasn't giving her any time to react to any of this. She was face to face with the infamous Joker inside her friend's apartment. It was a lot to digest. Just what business did he have with you?

But suddenly, everything made sense.

The reason why you became so secretive out of the blue. Why you denied having relations with Bruce Wayne, how you survived the attack at The Prosperity, and why you wanted privacy at your apartment, now more so than ever. She thought back to when this all started; right after Joker escaped from Arkham Asylum.

You were keeping Joker a secret this entire time right under everyone's nose.

Morgana had to give you props; you did an amazing job but she still had to ask.

"Before I start, I have to know. Are you just using her or are you and Y/n like.. together together?" She made a lewd gesture with her hands. Joker wasn't amused. He clicked his blade back out with a sigh.

"I won'T ask again. Talk or the uhh knife? This one! It comes back." He shook it playfully and its sharp edge gleamed in the kitchen's overhead lights.

Joker wouldn't hesitate plunging the knife into her neck. The clean up would be a pain but nothing he couldn't handle. If she didn't want to willingly talk then things could shift to a more tortuous method of communication.

It was all up to Morgana to decide. Comply or be difficult. He let her mull it over.

Watching Joker's fiddle with his knife was enough to get her talking. This madman would not hesitate in killing her and she knew it. She'd tell him anything as long as that knife kept a safe distance from her. "I'll talk."

Morgana sighed in relief when Joker backed off.

"Okay, wow um, you might wanna sit down for this. It's.. a lot to take in. Ugh, where do I start?"

Joker watched Morgana stall and decided to help her along. He sighed and pulled up a seat in front of her.

"Let's start... righhhht after Florence left yesterday." Joker fixed his suit collar before crossing his ankles. Morgana was in disbelief by his extensive knowledge of the situation.

"How do you...?" Joker sent her a glare.

"You're right, I don't wanna know. Okay, so apparently Florence knows about you and Y/n. F__k, I do too! This is crazy. You and Y/n.. are dating. Anyways, Flo stormed out of the apartment with Neo hot on her heels. It was crazy with everyone talking over themselves and Y/n fainted but thankfully Bruce caught her. We were so worried about her but when she came to, she was still hung up on Florence. Then Y/n and Dick were yelling at each other until her mom broke them up."

Morgana ran a hand through her silk press. This was a lot harder to explain than she thought.

She quite honestly didn't know if The Joker wanted a short summary or a detailed explanation but she continued nonetheless. She chose to info dump to save her own hide.

"We all went into the kitchen– Y/n's parents, Barbs and I, while Y/n, Dick, and Bruce were still arguing in the dining room. Y/n walked past all angry at something Grayson said and slammed her bedroom door close but her mom left us in the kitchen to bring Y/n a plate of dessert. I guess they patched things up. They were up in her room for the—"

Joker had to interrupt. "Y/n let someone into her room?"

Morgana slowly nodded. He had been quiet as she rambled, she wasn't expecting him to interrupt to clarify such a useless detail.

"Yeah, it was her mom so guess it was okay? Well, now that I think about it, Y/n didn't appreciate them 'invading her safe space.' Her words not mine. It was around that time we all decided on staying over for a sleepover and Y/n made sure we were all situated before going to bed. I swear everything was fine when we went to sleep but we woke up to Y/n screaming her head off."

Morgana began to tear up. Joker felt indifferent to the sight since it wasn't your tears. Seeing Morgana's just annoyed him.

She took a deep breath and Joker knew she was getting to the important part.

"When we got to the balcony, Y/n was fighting with Bruce and crying her heart out. She was reliving everything that happened that night and... h-hey woah!! Where are you going?!"

Morgana panicked when Joker shifted to get up from his chair. She blocked his path and he eyed her in disgust.

"Move." Joker could not stand Wayne and his obvious lovesick attraction to you.

You had relations with Bruce that Joker didn't know about and it irked him to have competition for your love.

It was already bad enough that Wayne was at your apartment, that he spent the night, and then had the audacity to put his hands on you. But he messed up by making you cry. The man was begging for death at this point.

Joker would enjoy murdering Gotham City's most upstanding citizen. He already had a thousand ways to do it brewing inside his head. However, Morgana was in his way.

She hesitantly pushed him back and apologized when Joker gave her a harsh glare. Note to self: do not touch the psychotic clown, she thought.

She tried to calm down his murderous campaign by telling the truth.

"It wasn't Bruce! He was only trying to help!" Joker rolled his eyes (what help has Wayne ever been) but she put her foot down and continued.

"IF YOU STOP JUMPING TO CONCLUSIONS AND LET ME FINISH, YOU WOULD UNDERSTAND!" She slapped her hands over her mouth and looked up at Joker.

She did not just yell at this man. Morgana did some questionable things in her life but that had to be the most reckless of them all. She glanced towards the bedroom and hoped that she wasn't too loud.

Joker was seriously considering snapping her neck for raising her voice at him.

His patience was thin today and this girl was testing it to the limits. Although he was curious as to why she stifled her voice.

He followed her gaze and eyed her quizzically. Morgana answered his unspoken question.

She dropped her hand, "Y/n is sleeping. It took forever to calm her down last night." 

Joker closed his eyes and sighed. He was so busy handling the Florence situation with Neo last night, he didn't stop and check on you. And that proved to be a big mistake.

Once again, when you needed Joker the most, he was nowhere to be found. His sweet Bunny was terrified last night and had to rely on Wayne of all people for comfort. Joker had failed you yet again. It left a sour taste in his mouth.

He assumed guilt and vowed to atone for his failure in blood.

"Uhhh what, errrr rather who made her cry? Who I'm killing?" Joker asked out of the blue.

He sat back down on the barstool and Morgana eyed him briefly as she thought over her answer. If she told the truth, then he would go out and start a murdering spree.

"No one I think? Like I said, Y/n was in total hysterics last night. Her parents knew exactly what to do to calm her down from her episode. She... she had a panic attack about the night she was—" Morgana stopped and looked away.

The most important part and she couldn't say it aloud. She fought back tears and faced Joker.

He needed to know but the words were caught in her throat.

Joker wasn't a fool. Something was hurting his Bunny that he didn't know about. Correction; He knew something from your past still haunted you for a while now.

There were signs that he picked up during his brief time with you.

You were a recluse despite being so young and you avoided all types of human interaction outside of your close circle of friends. He also noted you did not have any male friends, except for the Grayson boy.

You visibly became uncomfortable around the opposite sex. Him included at times.

Joker knew about your claustrophobia and anxiety in tight spaces. He noticed you would eye him warily when the two of you would take the elevator, or that you preferred open floor plans, and most of all– he remembered the conversation the two of you shared after he rescued you from Two Face's warehouse.

Joker couldn't ignore the fact that another man was on top of you earlier. "Did he.. uh you know.." Joker brushed your thigh in passing.

"No and could you just drop it? I-I don't want to be a victim again."

And Joker would be a fool not to remember the comment you made as he prepared to take you for the first time that same night.

"Um.. almost two years. B-Before I moved to Gotham. It's one of the reasons why I moved." You met Joker's knowing gaze and weakly smiled. "It's in the past. I'm okay. Really. You can touch me.. I ahh I like it when you do."

Two years. You didn't want to be a victim again. You moved to a different city to get away from the trauma someone inflicted on you.

You liked Joker's touch but it took him forever to acclimate you to it without flinching.

You still did every now and then but he paid it no mind since you would relax after a second or two. Joker noticed every little thing about his Light but he dismissed all the warnings signs.

The truth was right there. He was just too selfish to address them.

All the times he was too rough in bed or grabbed you unexpectedly, came crashing down on him. What if he pressured you into something you didn't want? What if he triggered old wounds and made things worse?

His Light, his ray of hope in this bleak existence of his, deserved to be happy and loved.

Without your smiling face by his side, Joker would be a ruthless madman again; only wishing for the world to burn with no true endgame in sight.

He spent too much time bathed in your light to return to his pointless crusade. What a lonely life he lived before you came and gave it purpose.

Joker didn't know what to do with the fact that his Light was miserable inside.

Morgana watched him slip down a mental rabbit hole. He looked lost in thought as a weight settled over his brow.

She wondered what you saw in the man but the longer she stared, she could see some of the appeal. He was hot if she squinted. Joker obviously cared a great deal about you and his eyes were a complex shade of green that Morgana had never seen before.

You had a thing for eyes.. but the fact you made someone like The Joker have feelings for another human being was an achievement in itself.

Morgana hated to interrupt his thoughts but she finally found the courage to continue. She cleared her throat to continue but Joker cut her off.

"Don'T say it. I know. I've.... known for a while now." He swept his arm across the kitchen counter and sent items crashing to the floor.

Morgana jumped at the unexpected action and watched Joker stand up and begin pacing the room, mumbling to himself.

He was about to start breaking more things when Morgana stole his attention.

"Now you see why I asked you earlier?" Joker shot her a glare. She swiftly changed her tone. "Are you just using Y/n... or are you going to be there for her? Y/n needs us, all of us, and if you're just using her, I'm sorry but I can't allow that!"

Joker laughed, "What are ya gonna do, hmm? Stop me? Now.. that? That is funny. But don't worry– I'm not using Y/n.. I lov—"

Joker stopped himself mid sentence and Morgana caught onto what he almost said. Her jaw dropped in disbelief.

You could hear the fridge humming in the background, it was so quiet in the kitchen.

"O-Oh. Well, um that wasn't on my monthly bingo card but alrighty now." Morgana fell back onto the barstool.

This was awkward. She stole a glance at the criminal frozen in place as he registered what he just confessed to.

He finally almost said it aloud. He'd been struggling for days to tell you in person but managed to say it to your friend, no sweat. She had to die now. No one could know he had feelings.

Joker turned his head like an owl and Morgana instantly picked up on his murderous intent.

She moved so there was an island counter in between Joker and her. She valued her life, thank you very much.

"Hey now! No need to get all murder stabby stabby on me! T-That's amazing! H-have you told Y/n yet?"

Joker curled his lip. "No. Where is she?" He glanced down the hall and was about to storm off when Morgana flailed her arms.

"Wait! Don't wake her up!!" Her shout worked in getting Joker's attention but now she had to do damage control. Joker did not like her ordering him around. Morgana could work on establishing an acquaintance later, your health was more important.

"You can't just drop an L bomb after everything that's happened, are you crazy?! Now is not the time and news flash! She doesn't need— Uh excuse you?! Hey, are you listening to me?"

Morgana dashed down the hallway to catch up to Joker. She slipped past him and blocked the door frame with her body. "Listen to what I'm saying!"

Joker eyed her like a pest. Did she seriously think she could stop him?

"Y/n can't stand men right now. She drew blood trying to get away from Bruce and she couldn't tolerate her own father's presence. You don't know what her ex did to her. You don't want to see her like this." 

Joker stared at Morgana as her warning sank in.

If he had any clue what your sorry excuse for an ex did, then you needed someone to comfort you more than ever. Isolation was the last thing you needed right now.

As someone who frequently battled voices inside of his head, silence was the enemy and made matters worse. Joker knew that for a fact that you don't handle separation well, so why did Morgana think leaving you to your thoughts was a good idea?

It was a recipe for disaster.

He understood why you're terrified of men but you never feared him before. Why start now?

Joker smacked his lips and shoved Morgana aside. She yelped as he opened the bedroom door and glanced around.

Same original hardwood floors, same vegan cowhide rug.

The leather couch with two accent chairs, one slate grey, the other sage green, were still over in the corner by the electric fireplace and the view of Grant Park from outside was half obscured by the curtains. A single beam of sunlight was the only source of light within the room.

Everything was the same yet vastly off due to the fact that your aura wasn't thriving in the room.

It felt cold and bereft of life.

Joker was eyeing the open closet door when he saw something shift on the bed.

There was a sizable lump in the middle but he recognized the shape from anywhere. You were buried underneath the covers and doing your best impression of a blanket burrito. He could tell that you were awake.

You were timid but curious of the presence that entered the room. Subtle movements revealed you were tracking his every footfall.

Joker exhaled before walking over to stand beside the bed. He rather rip the band-aid off than freak you out by stalling.

Morgana picked herself up from off the floor and entered the room, only for Joker's eyes to force her back out.

She understood the message within the greenish hue.

"I was neva here." She said as she walked backwards out the door. It clicked shut behind her.

With her gone, Joker could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

He wasn't out of the woods just yet since Morgana would surely stay inside the apartment, (little did he know, she was cupping her ear to the door, trying to eavesdrop) but he could be more forward with his actions. It was a relief that your rooms were soundproof; Joker had a lot on his mind.

"I know you're awake."

The pile of covers flinched and shrunk in on itself. Joker shrugged off his coat and tossed it onto the leather couch. It landed heavily with a distinct metal clank.

"You probably need, uhh, space but I can't leave ya alone. NoT now. I'm here. If you need me." Joker sank a knee onto the bed and crept forward until he bumped against you. He heard the sharp inhale you made upon contact and wisely backed off.

You were a gentle soul both inside and out. You didn't deserve to be frightened of something as simple as human touch. He wanted nothing more than to spoil you with affection, however Joker would be patient and regain your trust again. You were worth the wait.

Just like the bunny he named you after, he would wait until you came crawling out of your hiding hole, curious to explore.

And just like he expected, you slowly poked your head from out of the covers before looking around the room. He stayed out of your eyesight so he wouldn't startle you, but somehow, you knew he was there.

It wasn't that dark in the room but he was hesitant to turn on a light until you asked him to.

"W-Who's t-there?" You turned your head and locked eyes with pools of jade.

Joker didn't move a muscle as you lookedbut didn't fully see him. He noticed you shaking. You probably saw someone else with your unstable mind.

"Y/n, it's me." J waved at you but you shrunk back further into the covers.

He had to think fast and jog your memory. He was the one that gave you a slew of nicknames but you didn't have one for him. He was just J.

Not very helpful in this current predicament.

Joker still had his makeup on and it would remain until Morgana left the penthouse for good. It eliminated him from showing you the constellation of freckles you loved so much on his face. That for sure would restart your memory.

What was something the two of you shared that could help familiarize Joker to you?

He had yet to give you anything of sentimental value so he striked that off the list. He was shifting his weight on the bed when you tensed.

Your nose flexed just like a bunny, he thought it was cute.

"I should ahhh–"

You cut Joker off. "Lighter fluid and something.. metallic. It.. it smells like that when I'm safe with.. J? Where, w-where were you? Why didn't you stop him..?"

There were many things in this life that Joker overcame. He been in the world's most toughest jails, endured inhumane torture methods, and fought against the greatest superheroes and lived to tell the tale. Yet despite all of those feats, he was brought to his knees at the sight of your tears time and time again.

They were daggers straight to his heart. He couldn't bear seeing his Light in so much pain but despite the agony, he couldn't look away.

You clung tighter to the comforter around you.

"I-I don't know what's r-real anymore! I can hear him telling me it's okay but it's your hands hurting me. You wouldn't do that! Your hands are warm w-with callouses on the palms and index fingers. I begged you to stop! Why won't you s-stop?! Please.. just.. Why weren't you there when I needed you?"

Joker hated to admit it, but Morgana was right. He didn't need to see you like this.

He was living in a nightmare seeing his precious bunny struggling to see the truth. Your mind was all mixed up, fighting both the past and the present.

He had to do something although he didn't know what.

"I.. I wasn't here last night, but uhh, I'm here now. C'mon, Y/n, tell me what ya need me to do."

Joker would give you the world on a silver platter if you asked for it, but he felt utterly useless watching you spiral into madness. His heart stopped beating after he heard your watery plea.

"It hurts, please stop." You weren't thinking clearly and he began to worry when you started to breathe erratically.

He couldn't sit around and watch you suffer. Joker threw all caution to the wind and pulled you in for a hug, covers and all.

At first you resisted– Joker thought he messed up big time– but you sagged further in his arms and buried your face into his chest.

You grabbed fists full of J's suit and inhaled.

The unique cocktail that only Joker possessed, helped you recognize who held you tightly. You sobbed knowing that your Dark Prince was finally here. You thought Joker abandoned you.

"I don't want him to come back, please don't go!" You looked up at Joker.

Your big e/c were frantically staring into his. He sighed and tucked a wayward curl back into place under your bonnet– for once, you didn't flinch, rather you leaned into his touch. Your cheek felt so cold against his hand.

Something in J gave way to the moment.

"If you'll, uh let meee, I'll never let you go. Is that okay?" Joker asked. You looked away and he quickly added. "I won't do anything else, doll. I just wanna be.. here for ya. Let me ahh hold you so... he.. doesn't hurt ya. I won't leave you."

You bit your lip. Joker's arms were soothing for now but you were wary of them.

He could turn violent at a moment's notice. "You promise you won't hurt me?"

You gasped when Joker rested his forehead against yours. It didn't matter that his white paint transferred onto your skin. You weren't expecting such a sweet gesture from him.

It pained him to hear your plea. He feared you were broken beyond repair. But Joker could fix you; he could fix anything if given enough time. 

"I'd let Bats drag me back to Arkham Asylum before I'd lay a finger on ya. Never again." He kept eye contact with you as he grabbed your hand. You surprised yourself by letting him do it.

Baby steps, Joker thought to himself. His eyes squeezed shut as he kissed the fading scar that he made on your palm.

You saw the anguish take hold of his features. Since when was Joker so open to show his emotions?

Joker dropped his usual dialect and talked to you straight. You knew he was serious when his voice also dropped an octave.

Gone was the clown that Gotham City feared, this was just J, a man secretly in love, speaking to you in the hushed air of your room.

"You're my Light. My everything." He used your fingers in his grasp to wipe your tears away.

More rushed to the surface hearing his sincere words but he diligently kept wiping. "These tears I swear, they'll be the death of me. I know it's scary and you have every right to fear me, but if you don't remember anything else– know this Y/n." He waited until you looked at him.

A kaleidoscope of green greeted you and you swore you would never be the same.

"I will never hurt you again. I promise."

Joker whispered your name when you lost concentration and he patiently waited until you looked into his eyes again.

They pleaded with you to understand the unspoken truths his heart was too weak to voice.

Screw what Morgana said about bad timing. He wanted you to know. He had to tell you the truth. Joker cupped your face, "Y/n, I lo—"

You wanted to hear what Joker had to say but your eyes grew heavy all of a sudden. The last thing you ate was that plate of sugar Mom brought you last night. Your body burned through it and demanded more fuel to keep you functioning.

You were dehydrated and your mind and body were running on fumes. You couldn't keep up, so you crashed.

Joker panicked when your body swayed slightly before you fell back. You were unconscious by the time he could react.

He cursed at his failed attempt but recovered quickly to dote on you. Declarations of love would have to wait. His Light was running the risk of being sick.

Joker laid you down and tucked you into bed properly before heading over to the door. Much to his surprise Morgana was there, doing a terrible job of hiding that she was eavesdropping.

She pretended to straighten the abstract artwork hanging outside the guest bedroom as Joker walked by.

She glanced inside and saw you sleeping but knew something happened behind closed doors.

Instead of being a blanket burrito, you were tucked in bed like Sleeping Beauty with the pillows and covers around you almost picturesque.

Joker had a soft side after all. She just witnessed it firsthand. 

Maybe she should tell him everything your parents disclosed last night after all. By the time she caught up to Joker in the living room, he was mid-call.

He saw her approaching and held up a finger.

Morgana dealt with many rude people in her line of work but Joker was probably the rudest of them all.

"... Mmhm, make sure she's discreet this time. One of Y/n's friends is still here. Yeah.. about that.." Joker locked eyes with Morgana. "She's alive. For now."

She froze on the spot. What did for now mean? Was there some kind of 'how to stay alive' program she needed to know about? He had some nerve and this was the man who claimed to love you.

How comforting.

Morgana bounced on the balls of her feet hoping to be acknowledged soon.

Joker discussed some more minor details with one of his henchmen before hanging up. His eyes then flickered over to the vibrant bouquet of flowers Morgana was working on.

She thought he would destroy her hard work but he leaned over to sniff the delicate flora instead.

"For Y/n?" He scanned the work for any imperfections; there weren't any.

He wanted nothing but the best for his bunny. He stared at Morgana, arching an eyebrow when she didn't respond.

"Y–Yeah." Morgana said, "I'm not finished yet! It's gonna be double in size with more Queen Anne lace and roses to r-round it all out. Y/n loves roses and the Eucalyptus will be good for her exhaustion. Its scent is known for its aromatherapy powers plus its good for rejuvenating the spirit and overall elevating one's mood."

Joker nodded and backed off. It was nice to know one of your friends was looking out for you in your time of need.

He was wary of keeping Morgana alive but she was proving to be 'good people' as you had a habit of saying. A far cry from Florence.

Joker grumbled to himself just thinking about the Haitian.

Morgana jumped hearing a rare chuckle from the dark clown. "She'll like them. Now! Let's dis-cuss you. Sit."

Joker clapped his hands and pointed to the blue couch in your living room. He didn't wait for Morgana to act, he was already walking towards the kitchen to grab a water.

He noticed the leftovers in your fridge as he rummaged around for a drink. You probably needed to eat but he'd wait for the doc to look you over and decide what's best.

He snagged two water bottles and headed back to the living room but arrived to witness Morgana swirling a tumbler glass in her hands.

She took a big swig from it as he sat down opposite of her in an accent chair.

She wiped her mouth and tried to explain, "Don't judge me. I need hard liquor after all of this. Want one? I'm great at mixing drinks." She shimmied her shoulders but Joker wasn't amused.

He heard stories from Y/n about Morgana. Her and Florence were the heavy drinkers of the group.

"Y/n doesn't keep alcohol in her apartment." He noted.

Morgana laughed once and polished off her drink. She set it on the coffee table that separated them both. She noticed the clown was right at home in your place but had yet to find her and Flo's numerous stashes of liquor.

"What Y/n doesn't know won't kill her." She failed to dodge the water bottle Joker threw at her face. "OW! What was that for?!"

He sipped on the water while rolling his eyes. Morgana rubbed at her cheek and waited for the clown to finish. He drank the entire bottle in one pull before recapping the top and setting it down.

"Y/n likes to recycle. Ya know-  saving the.. turtles, uhh, one plastic at a time. That's my Light. Always caring for others; failing to take care of herself."

"Isn't she caring for you until you no longer need her?" She interrupted.

Joker licked his scars. Have patience. No need to take your frustrations out on others, he heard your voice recite in his head. He took a deep breath before smiling at Morgana.

"I'm noT leaving Y/n so that means I have to, uhh, geT along with the people in her life. So! This can be a lit-le experiment of sorts between usss. Let's see how long you can keep your mouth shut and I'll.... see how long I can tolerate you without murdering ya! Deal?"

Morgana was at a loss for words. What kind of agreement was that?

"I need another drink." She sighed. Joker's laugh was far more creepier in person than on tv.

The sound of the doorbell startled Morgana out of her task. She set the spray bottle down and jogged over to the front door to answer it.

She was pleasantly surprised when a beautiful woman was standing outside, chewing on bubble gum with an attitude.

"Can I help you?" Morgana asked.

The female looked up from her phone and glanced down the short hallway, at the elevator, and then back at Morgana.

"Tis boy better not have given me da wrong address. Hold on." She dialed a number and brought it to her ear.

Morgana was left awkwardly holding the door when the mysterious woman began arguing with whoever she called.

The commotion gained Joker's attention all the way in the living room. He recognized the woman at the door instantly. She did the same the moment she spotted Joker.

"Well well! If it isn't my sorry excuse for a patient! I see you're not restin' your leg like I told ya." She sighed.

Joker smiled and leaned on the door frame. "Be glad I didn't kill you after my checK up, doc." He fired back.

Morgana glanced back and forth between the two. "Uhh do you two know each other or something?"

The woman looked Morgana dead in the eye. "I don't know who this man is. I mean, he could be walking down the street, I wouldn't. Sorry to this man."

Joker laughed and she joined along but swatted his hands away when he tried to grab her neck.

The pair walked inside, leaving Morgana utterly confused in the foyer. She watched them talk amongst themselves like two old friends and caught up to them mid sentence.

"..and her hands are sooooo cold, doc. She's been crying her little heart out and passed out in my arms. Whatever can ya do?" Joker pouted as he held the bedroom door open for his esteemed guest.

She walked in and looked around. Leave it for Joker to find some chick with money. She sat her bag down on a nearby table and dug through it for some gloves. 

"Sounds like dehydration. When's the last time she ate?"

Morgana walked in and answered for Joker, "Last night around eight ish? It was a plate of dessert but she ate dinner too. Hi, I'm her friend and you are?"

"Name's Sarai. I'm this idiot's on-call doc." Sarai dabbed Morgana up before facing her employer. "Now, where's my patient?"

Joker was too busy stewing in jealousy. He liked secret handshakes too. What gives?

"You don't do that with me doc. I thought we were errr close."

She eyed him like a fed up mother would her child. "You ain't black, Joker. Now move." She pushed him aside and approached the bed, but stopped as if she saw a ghost.

She treated hundreds of patients a day but she never forgot a face. "I remember her."

Sarai picked up your hands and sure enough, the jagged cut that she treated almost a month ago was still there. Your hands were cold to the touch just like Joker said and also a bit clammy.

"Did you do this?" She pointed at your palms. Joker sat down by your side and had the decency to look ashamed. He sighed before nodding.

Both Sarai and Morgana stared at him in disbelief. He looked so remorseful.

Joker was such a man child at times. One would have thought Sarai scolded him with the way he was acting. She flicked her braids over her shoulder with a huff.

Today they were blonde butterfly locs reaching down to her waist. When she shook her head, they moved with her. Joker eyed them curiously. How did she work in the hospital with such long braids?

"I knew I shoulda filed a police report. Her shoddy story bout mistakin' the pepper grinder for a knife was too sketchy."

She donned her pink gloves before she gently opened your mouth. "Ah, as I thought. She's dehydrated. You want an IV in her?"

Morgana stood on the other side of the bed to watch this interaction up close. There was actually a person not afraid of The Joker!

This supposed doctor was talking to him any kind of way and he paid her no mind. She would demand something out of her bag and he would grab it, no questions asked.

But he pushed Morgana to the ground and threw water bottles at her when she raised her voice at him. This man was truly unpredictable.

Morgana let her intrusive thoughts get the better of her. "So you're a real doctor and you willingly work for him?"

She slapped a hand over her mouth after she spoke but it was too late. Sarai was inserting an IV into your arm but chuckled at the insult. She admired her handiwork before replying.

"Dr. Sarai Obukofe, chief trauma surgeon at Gotham General. Joker's house calls pays more tho. Don't give me dat look. I'm from Blüdhaven, his crimes ain't nothin' n' Jokester here won't hurt friends of da family. Won't ya now?" She nudged his leg with her own.

Joker hummed. It was neither affirmative or negative.

Morgana slowly nodded. She picked up the thick Blüdhaven accent at the door but she was still confused.

"Friends of the family?" She questioned.

Sarai rigged the IV bag to your bedpost. It would have to do since she didn't pack an IV pole. Not like she could.

This was an off the books house call after all. She received a text from her cousin saying to come to an address with her crash kit– strictly on the low.

Sarai automatically knew it was for Joker. She couldn't refuse the job even if today was her rare day off.

She blew a bubble and popped it sharply before eyeing Joker. "How deep is she?" She jerked her head at Morgana.

Joker didn't look away from you to answer. "Accident. I'm con-sider-ing offing her later."

Sarai grimaced and cast sympathetic eyes on Morgana. "Ouch, so an outsider then."

She checked you over when you began to shiver. "Frost mentioned on the phone that she had a 'traumatic experience.' Care ta explain that?"

Morgana had enough. She cut through the air with her hand in a fit of rage.

"No, no! Go back! I thought we had a deal, Joker! We shared a drink together, you said you'd keep me alive if I helped you with this 'get along with others' experiment of yours. Now you're thinking about killing me again? Make up your mind!"

Joker was about to when you whimpered and stole everyone's attention. They were being too loud.

"You're disturbing my patient. Either lower ya voice or move dis conversation elsewhere." Sarai hissed at Morgana.

The florist was trying to keep her cool. These two strangers just barged into your place as if they owned it and had the audacity to boss her around!

She couldn't even defend herself! Morgana wished she'd let Dick stay behind instead. He probably would've handled this situation a bit better than her. Sure he would've fought with Joker and possibly died in the process, but he wouldn't have sided with the madman to stay alive. GCPD would have the place surrounded with Batman en route by now.

She had half a mind to sneak away and call the authorities but one look at you had her second guessing that decision.

The last thing you needed was more stress and strangers surrounding you and your space. You required peace and quiet to heal.

But this clown was on thin f__king ice with her.

It was a lot to handle on a Friday afternoon and Morgana wasn't about to let Joker or this doctor mess with her energy. She took a relaxing breath and found her center.

"I will not let your indecisiveness get the better of me. However if we're to get along– whatever the hell that means, you gotta stop threatening to kill me." Morgana said.

Joker looked at Sarai as if she had the answers.

The doctor was putting away her tools and had no parts in this. She'd stick around until Joker called her back to remove the IV. Other than that, her job was done.

That is until you groaned and blinked your eyes open.

Everyone held their breath in anticipation. You squinted your eyes a few times until you felt a tightness on your forearm.

Much to your horror there was a hospital IV inserted in your vein. You began to claw at it when Joker reached out and stopped you.

"Hey. Hey.. leave thaT alone, baby doll." Your eyes darted up to him.

It took you longer than he liked to recognize him again, but you were slowly coming back to yourself.

"J.. it's cold." Your fingernail picked at the tape Sarai attached to keep the needle in place.

You hated doctors and you hated medical treatment. It reminded you too much of that night and the following weeks thereafter. You didn't want to think about it again, and Joker was right there to distract you from it all.

His hand rested atop yours and squeezed. He felt like a furnace. He sighed, "I knooow but, it's gonna make ya feel better. You uhh want me to hold you? Promise I'm warm, hmm?"

His thumb rubbed circles on your darker skin as you thought over his offer. You relented with a weak nod.

Joker stood up to climb into the bed with you but looked up at something within the room.

"Close the door on your way out. Now."

You wondered who he was talking to and followed his gaze. You and Morgana locked eyes. She was calm, way too calm to be in Joker's presence and the crazy part– he allowed her to be.

Your eyes went back and forth between her and Joker as the wheels in your brain spun out of control. Surely this was a dream.

There was no way Joker would let another one of your friends in on his secret. Then you spotted a third individual standing off to the side. She looked familiar but you couldn't place her at present.

Your mind was too busy grasping at the reality of Joker and Morgana being in the same room without the latter being murdered.

That dream you had of a little boy by the river whispered in your mind.

'She knows and now she has to die.'

He wasn't talking about Florence. He was referring to Morgana.

You shot forward and grabbed a hold Joker's suit vest in a surprisingly strong grip. He looked down at you in intrigue as you started spouting nonsense.

"Not her! Please don't kill her Joker! She's my friend. Y-You promised me!" You were leaving wrinkles in Joker's shirt as Morgana rounded the bed to enter your line of vision.

"Y/n! Calm down, I'm right here! I'm okay!" She stole your attention but it came with a price. You let go of Joker to whirl on Morgana. It was her turn to hiss at your vice-like grip.

"You can't be here! You have to leave Gana. You didn't see nothing! Deny everything! Please.. I-I can't lose you too. I can't lose another friend.. Please."

You sobbed into her arms and she glared at Joker who was still standing off to the side, speechless.

He was coping with the fact you begged him not to kill someone and that he felt obligated to obey.

He wasn't going to let Morgana leave the apartment building alive but the moment you begged him, Joker's hands were tied. He promised he'd never hurt you. That meant physically, mentally, and emotionally. You stopped The Joker with three simple words.

You promised me.

He stood frozen, awaiting your next orders for he truly did not know what to do after discovering the power you held over him.

Morgana managed to get you to lie back on the bed as your burst of adrenaline died out. You felt sluggish all of a sudden.

Sarai stood watch as the pain meds she added to your IV line started to kick in. You fought against the fog and looked over at Joker.

His eyes instantly found yours and thus the staring match began. Your drugged induced gaze had a clear warning in them and you made sure to declare it vocally.

"You hurt my friends.. and I'll never.. forgive you." You fell back asleep and the room breathed a sigh of relief.

Joker feared nothing in this life but your warning hit him like a ton of bricks. He hoped you would forget all of this when you woke up.

If not, then he was in deep trouble.

#ledger joker x reader #ledger joker #black!fem!reader #heath ledger #reader insert #joker x y/n #joker x reader #romance #angst #cross posted on wattpad #cross posted on ao3 #heath joker #mental health #dark knight joker #his lighthouse

[harlowcomehome]

“Bedtime songs.”

Jack had just left for tour this morning, you and the girls wouldn’t be joining him until the weekend which was three days from now. The girls weren’t used to him being away as this was the start of him getting back into the swing of things, so you knew things at home would be really hard.

The girls were understandably sad, you had talked to the both of them about changes, but you knew that nothing would prepare them like the real thing. Hazel took it especially hard, her dad was her best friend and you knew without her saying, he was her favorite person. 

You tried to keep both Hazel and Jade occupied, hoping to pass the day quicker. Unfortunately, you felt it too, you all missed him very much.

Jade was fussy at night time, wanting daddy to sing her to sleep. Hazel sat with her while you left the room to call Jack on FaceTime, you could tell he was exhausted but he picked up immediately.

He saw your expression immediately, “Rough night?”

You nodded, trying to hide yourself from wiping your tears in front of him. “Jade wants her song but she said I don’t sing it like you do.”

“Baby girl, I can tell you’re crying” he disregarded what you said, you tried to avoid looking at the screen. “Look at me” he spoke softly.

You looked over at him “sorry for crying” you mumbled.

“Hey” he exclaimed readjusting himself to look at the camera better “don’t you ever apologize for that.” You smiled at him, knowing he meant well. “I know change is hard for you” he nodded “hell, it’s hard for us” he motioned to the camera at himself and then back at you. “I just miss you baby” you sniffled and he nodded, a sad look on his face. He always felt guilty when he had to be away from you and the girls, that was the last thing you wanted.

“I love you, do you know that?” You sniffled, wiping the leftover mascara from under your lower lashes. “I love you too, you know that” he confirmed with a smile.

“Now take me to my babies so all three of you can sleep” he said, holding back a yawn himself.

You walked into the bedroom, seeing Hazel and Jade laying down together in bed now.

“Hazel sleep wif me?” Jade looked up at you with big eyes. You looked at Hazel for confirmation “I don’t mind mommy.”

You smiled, showing them both their dad on FaceTime.

“Hi daddy!” They said together excitedly.

“Hi my two princesses!” He said in a high pitch voice making the three of you giggle.

“I heard you two want a bedtime song?”

They both eagerly nodded.

“Mommy, you wanna turn the light off? Set the mood?” He joked but you shook your head and laughed, getting up to turn the light off and making sure the nightlight was plugged in.

Jack began to sing to them, he usually made songs up on the spot. It didn’t take long for the two of them to nod off, you tiptoed out of the room immediately keeping your husband on the phone.

When you made it back to your room, you crawled into bed with a pout on your face. “Miss me?” He couldn’t help but smile.

“Like crazy” you sighed.

“Remember when we used to spend months apart?” He leaned back in bed, you could tell his eyelids were heavy.

“I can’t believe we ever did that” you sighed, adjusting to your big empty bed.

“Just a few more days” he hummed.

“Want me to let you go? You seem very sleepy” you teased.

“Hell no, I need you to stay on with me so I CAN go to sleep!” He looked at you with wide eyes, like you should’ve known that and it made you giggle.

“Codependent aren’t we?” You teased and he laughed “damn right.”

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow fanfic #dad!jack #Jack Harlow fluff

[animulnitrate]

SYNCOPATION.

“Are you seriously getting a hard on while im trying to help you understand music?”

⭒ pairing: graham x reader (gender neutral) ⭒ word count: 1068 ⭒ warnings: smut, smut, and more smut, overstimulation, sub graham :')

12:30 PM. 

You looked at your alarm clock, forcing yourself from your bed. You had slept in a little too late, wiping the sleep from the corners of your eyes. From the other side of the house, quiet knocks rose to a crescendo as you walked down the halls. The door opened, a nervous laugh escaping from the lips of the boy in front of you. “Graham?” You questioned. He was dressed as if he were about to go out to a Sunday dinner, primary colors covering him from head to toe. “Fuck, I forgot. I'm so sorry..” You added, the timid brunette shaking his head in response.

“It's okay..” He choked out, his voice cracking a bit. You wanted to raincheck the study session, but you still invited him in. his arms were wrapped around his textbooks, carefully setting them down onto the living room table. You were the only other student who knew about music production, besides Damon, who had been gone for holiday. He sat down, opening one of the books to the page he had been stuck on; syncopation. Your eyes took their time adjusting to the small font printed on the paper, but you could definitely see the pictures. “Alright, syncopation.” You cleared your throat, slightly annoyed you didn't have the time to freshen up or fix your hair first. “So basically where notes don't belong, but it still sounds good for some reason.” You forced a laugh, trying to get yourself in a better mood.

Graham nodded, pushing his glasses up as he inched closer to the book. He was squinting, reading the passage in his head. You watched him, he really wanted to understand. “Donna Summer?” you spoke, his attention turning to you. “Pardon?” You scoffed. “You don't know Donna Summer?!” An offended look on your face. He shook his head. “Disco, Graham. Disco. Lots of songs in the disco genre use syncopation. It's like, a note before a quarter note that has the little tail on it-”

“Oooohhhh.” He cut you off, your eyes widening.

“Okay that makes sense.” Your palm met with your forehead. The nerve. What was supposed to be a study session quickly switched to a lecture, you trying your hardest not to grab him by his collar and shake him around. “Do you understand now-?” Graham nodded, his face turning to a slight shade of pink. “I think..” You turned your head to roll your eyes. When you turned back around, Graham adjusted his pants a little. Your eyebrow raised in confusion, noticing his body language; a flushed face, a bouncing leg, constantly tugging at his pants. 

You let out a laugh. “Are you seriously getting a hard on while i'm trying to help you understand music?”

“NO!” He responded defensively, his face only getting more red.

Your eyes met with his trousers, which he covered with his hand.

“Let me see.” You spoke dominantly, his hand moving quickly as if you put a spell on him. You were getting it now. 

“You listen so well.” you teased. 

“Thank you.” he incoherently replied. You laughed again. “What a fucking loser, you get turned on from me going off on you.” He stayed silent, his pants only getting tighter. 

You could see his bulge, and his glasses fogging up. “Here, let me help.” You took his glasses off of him, little indents being present below his eyes. You went to unzip his pants, his hand immediately stopping yours. “W-wait.” Graham mumbled. “What?” You questioned. “I-i've never done this before.” Your jaw dropped open. “Oh so you're telling me you've never had a handjob before now?” There was a short moment of silence, he wasn't kidding. Your lips turned into a smile. “It's okay.” You reassured him, helping him tug the fabric off. his arms stayed at his side, his boxers already wet from precum. You tried not to giggle again, knowing it would only arouse the poor thing even more. Your hand slipped inside, passing the waistband. You grabbed a hold of his aching length, a mix between a wince and a whine left his mouth. You started slow, making sure he could feel every little detail your hand could give. 

He was already squirming around, his whimpers and pleas sounding like the soft undertones of a slow song. You reached his tip and squeezed slightly as your hand rose and fell, an arpeggio. “Bloody hell.” He winced again, sweat running down his face. He was so red, his legs shaky as you talked him through it. “Do you like it here?” You asked, your hand wrapped around the base of his cock. “Or, here?” You asked, giving the boys tip your full undivided attention now. His begs and moans were just enough for you to understand what his answer was, your index and thumb running up and down him. It was a matter of seconds before he came, a long repeated measure of cries, and whines spilled out of him. 

He sat up quickly, humming through his high. “Oh god, oh fuck, god.” He cursed. He was still shaking, you had only been doing this for two minutes. “You came so fast, and Christ you're messy.” You moved your hand away, getting up to grab a towel from the bathroom. His chest was rising up and down rapidly. You cleaned your hand off, then offered to clean his shirt. Graham watched, then you went to clean up his still leaking cock. He shifted a little, you smirking as he did so. “Sensitive bitch.” You muttered. “Huh?” He turned to you. 

“Nothing.” Your face was blank, throwing the towel to the side. “All better?” Checking up on him, he nodded fast. “Yes, thank you.” zipping his pants back up, he stood to his feet, stumbling a little. You examined him, making sure he could get his balance back, which he did. “Um, i better go.” Graham choked out again, grabbing his things quickly, walking to the door almost embarrassed by what just happened. “Hm, okay.” You insisted, noticing his glasses still left on the table. You grabbed them just in time, going to tap his shoulder. 

He shuddered, then looked at your hand. “O-oh, right. Thanks.” He awkwardly smiled, putting them back on. “You're welcome for the lecture.” You spoke with a cocky tone. 

“Shut up.” He mumbled, heading out before closing the door behind him.

#blur #blur band #fanfic #graham coxon #aesthetic #graham coxon fanfic #yummy subby graham #blur fanfic #britpop #britpop fanfic #damon albarn #alex james #dave rowntree #was literally thinking about this yesterday all night #eat up my children #this is canon to me

[iridescent-petrichor]

inkpot gods

Pairing: Jaskier x Reader

Warnings: reader kills four people, a little graphic, reader and jaskier both get injured

Words: 5.3K

A/N: hi!! i rlly hope this fic like . makes sense?? it's four in the morning and i couldn't get this idea out of my mind but i hope the jumping around isn't too disorienting

Oh what, these? These aren't tears

It's just the rain that wasn't brave enough to fall

You tried to calm the tears streaming down your face when you heard Jaskier approaching, quickly wiping your eyes with the back of your hand when his footsteps stopped just beside you. Shifting your weight so you sat facing away from him, you blinked back the tears that continued to threaten to spill.

“There you are,” His voice was gentle, already noticing something was wrong. Despite his boisterous personality, he was always able to tell when to take a more tender spirit. “Everything alright?”

You nodded, still refusing to look at him knowing full well your eyes would give you away.

“Love,” Jaskier took a careful seat beside you, gingerly placing a hand on your knee. You couldn’t help the slight smile pulling at your lips from the pet name he used. Jaskier rarely called you by your own name, opting towards more poetic and affectionate names. While neither of you had taken the step towards anything official, it wasn’t hard to see how close the two of you had gotten.

“I’m fine.” You insisted, though the crack in your voice betrayed you.

“You don’t have to be, you know.” He said, staring at the view ahead of the both of you. Before you stood a wondrous mountain view, something worthy of one of Jaskier’s songs, especially with the sunset painting the sky with deep oranges and reds.

There was a beat of silence before Jaskier spoke again.

“Think of your tears as the rain.” Your brows furrowed, giving him a confused look. “Your tears are just the rain that wasn’t brave enough to fall.”

“Is this some piece from a song you’re writing?” You ask, wiping away the fresh tears that were now streaming down your face.

He laughed, moving his hand from your knee to rest over your shoulders. “I’m trying to say that there’s strength in crying.” Now risking a glance towards you, his eyes softened at the tears glistening in your eyes.

“I don’t feel very strong.” You responded, voice hoarse.

“But you are.” When you didn’t say anything, Jaskier pulled you closer, the comfort of his embrace making you sigh in relief. “You’re stronger than you know.

And what they hear isn't laughter after all

It's just your voice learning for once to stand up tall

Your laughter rang through the crowded tavern, music to Jaskier’s ears. He’d made some offhand comment about Geralt’s hair that you could no longer unsee, looking back at the witcher who had been grabbing a fresh ale before you turned back to the bard before you.

“Your laugh is the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard,” Jaskier said, his voice so soft you felt your heart swell in your chest. He looked at you as if you held the stars in your eyes, the smile on his face was contagious.

“After all these exhausting days, it’s nice to laugh again.” You said, leaning back in your seat, visibly relaxing.

“It’s like a breath of fresh air. Like,” Jaskier sat forward, reaching to you to put his hands over yours. “There’s this cruel world that wants nothing more than to break us down, and in spite of it, we continue to laugh, we’re still grateful for the fortune we have!”

“In spite of everything we’ve gone through, we can still hole up in a tavern and I can listen to you play music until the sun sets.” You continued, his eyes lighting up at your words.

“Well, I have people to entertain, dear heart,” Jaskier said, grinning from ear to ear. “That does include you.” His thumb rubbed over your hand, a movement you weren’t entirely sure he was even aware of.

By the time Geralt had rejoined the table, your face hurt from how much you were smiling. Jaskier had a keen ability to keep your mood up even in the worst conditions. With his infectious laughter and poetic pep talks, you knew you always had a light in your life to keep you going.

And when the rain came down

When Jaskier found you laying in the mud, rain pouring down over the both of you, he screamed for Geralt louder than he’d ever screamed in his life. You were unconscious, the blood from a cut on your head running down your face, mixing with the rainwater.

Geralt was too far off from the group to defend them when a monster stumbled across the two of you. In your attempt to get it away from Jaskier, you ran off the beaten path deeper into the forest.

He lost you in the downpour, barely being able to see two feet in front of him. Despite the ever-present danger of the monster that had been there only moments ago, Jaskier stumbled blindly through the woods until he found you.

“Geralt!” His voice was hoarse from yelling, desperate for his friend to hear him.

Jaskier knew the importance of timing, and he used all his strength to pull you back to the path, barely registering Geralt’s thundering footsteps that grew louder by the second.

“Jaskier.” Geralt’s voice went in one ear and out the other, with Jaskier continuing to bring your limp body through the woods, muttering pleas under his breath.

He only stopped when Geralt placed a hand on his shoulder, looking at the witcher with glassy eyes.

“You have to help her.” He begged, barely holding it together.

Without another word, Geralt bent down to pick you up, lifting you with ease. Jaskier trailed behind him, squinting to see ahead of him through the dense rain while Geralt brought you to a safe and dry location to fix you up.

Despite his outwardly calm demeanor, Geralt was moving quickly, trying to get through the forest to the inn you were all staying at for the night, glancing down at the blood running down your face every few seconds.

I made a vow out to the dark

Please let her live just one more day

For the first time in Jaskier’s life, he prayed.

He sat by your bedside, praying to any god that could hear him, anyone that was listening, to do something to help you.

You lay before him, a blanket covering you. Geralt was off on the other side of the room, concocting a potion that would help you. It was a delicate balance, and he was focused more than ever to create something that wouldn’t do more harm than good. The cut on your head was hastily cleaned and bandaged, but neither of them could tell what the extent of your injuries was.

“Please,” Jaskier whispered, eyes screwed shut with his hands clasped tightly in front of him. “Please just let her live. Just one more day, please, I’m begging you.”

On the other side of the room, Geralt raised the potion, holding it up to the light and swirling it around. The movement caused a faint glow in the bottle, and Geralt brought the potion back down in front of him, grabbing one final ingredient.

'Cause she is so much more than all her scars

And if she doesn't have the will

“She can’t die,” Jaskier muttered, voice breaking. “She can’t.”

“She won’t.” Geralt’s voice didn’t sound very certain. There was something in his tone that made Jaskier’s heart drop. After knowing the witcher for so many years he was able to deduce even the slightest changes in his attitude, and Jaskier could tell how worried Geralt was under his hardened exterior.

He finished mixing an herb into the potion, setting it to the side while Jaskier spoke.

“She’s endured so much, Geralt.” There was a faraway look in the bard’s eyes. “Everything she’s gone through; all her scars, all her pain… It can’t end here. It can’t be for nothing.”

“It’ll be okay.” Geralt crossed the room, standing in front of you. He knelt down, gently pulling your mouth open and pouring the potion down your throat.

“Is it working?” Jaskier asked when he set the empty bottle down. Nothing had happened yet, but Geralt let it slide seeing how nervous he was.

Still, the witcher said nothing, staring intently while the potion worked its magic. Your veins glowed a faint blue color for a moment before it died down, the silence between the two men was deafening.

But it seems the whole world does I'll stay because

I will be the man my father never was

As he stared down at you, the first person to make him feel comfortable with his emotions, he couldn’t help but think back to a moment between him and his father when he was a child. The tears on his face were long forgotten with the memory playing in the back of his mind.

“Julian!” His father’s booming voice echoed around the room as he looked down at his crying son. “Stop your whining, you need to man up! No child of mine will be caught sniveling like a little girl!”

Jaskier sniffled, wiping the tears from his eyes to no avail. He took a shuddering breath, hiding his face behind his hands. A broken lute sat before him, smashed by his father during an argument about where the boy’s future was going.

“Julian, now!” His father’s voice rang through his ears, and after a couple more moments, he was able to catch his breath, angrily swiping the tears out of his eyes.

He had barely managed to compose himself, long enough that his father lost interest, going off to find something else to be angry about.

Before he left the room, slamming the door on his way out, Jaskier could hear his father muttering about his worthless son. Still, he forced the tears back, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood to keep his sobs at bay.

When Jaskier looked at you, he remembered the first time he performed in front of you. The way you looked at him while he danced around the tavern was forever imprinted on his mind. There was so much adoration in your eyes, and you were smiling wider than he’d ever seen. Afterward, you’d told him how much you loved his singing, and he felt such a resurgence in confidence in his music that he hadn’t felt since he was very young.

And what you hear is not silence

It's just the trees waiting to hear what next you'll hum

On a quiet evening on the road, Jaskier had stopped strumming his lute. You noticed his shift in emotion, slowing to walk by his side. The three of you were traveling deep in the woods on your way to the next town with Geralt perched on Roach as per usual while you and Jaskier walked down the dirt path behind him.

“Why’d you stop?” You asked quietly, nudging the bard lightly to get his attention. He seemed lost in his thoughts, staring up at the night sky with a heavy sigh.

“It’s quiet.” He said, dropping his gaze to look around at the expanse of trees. The only other sound around you was Roach’s hooves hitting the ground. “I don’t want to disrupt that.”

“Oh Jask,” You could see a hint of a smile at the use of the nickname, something you picked up after his constant use of pet names towards you. “That’s not just silence.

He turned to you, slowing his walk with a look of confusion on his face.

“It’s the trees waiting to hear your next song.” You grinned, gesturing towards the open woods. “The world just wants to listen to your music.”

Jaskier laughed, his gaze falling to the ground.

“Please,” You persisted when he didn’t move to grab his lute. “I want to hear it.”

With a slight reluctance, Jaskier grabbed the lute he’d maneuvered over his shoulder, adjusting it in his hands. He began strumming the instrument, a soft tune echoing through the trees as he hummed the beginnings of his next ballad.

You couldn’t help the smile gracing your face, hanging on to every note he sang.

And what you see is not the dark

It's just the gods upturning inkpots

'Cause they know what you'll become

Not long after that evening, the three of you had set up camp not long after the sun had set, walking a few minutes off the dirt path to steer clear of other travelers.

Geralt was fast asleep not far from Roach, while you tried to relax in your own bedroll close to Jaskier’s.

It didn’t take long, however, to notice Jaskier sitting upright and staring out at the darkness around him, eyes darting around the woods as if he would miss something that would leap out and attack him. You frowned, scooting closer to him, apologizing quietly when he jumped at your movement. Stopping when your bedroll was touching his, you placed a careful hand on his shoulder, giving him a worried look you were sure he couldn’t see in the dark.

“You alright?”

He didn’t respond, still looking out into the empty night. “Do you hear that?”

You stopped for a moment, listening.

“No?”

He turned to you with a start, eyes wide with fear. “What if there’s something out there?”

“Then Geralt will handle it.” You nodded to the witcher a few feet from you, hand resting on his sword in his sleep.

Jaskier didn’t respond, but you could tell he was still on edge. An idea popped into your head, and you shifted in your seat, preparing to give the storyteller the gift he’d given you so often.

“The dark out there,” You pointed, watching him follow where your hand led. “It’s the gods upturning inkpots just for you.”

His brows furrowed, still looking out where you’d pointed.

“See, they know what an artist you’ll become. They’re giving you the proper materials.” You grinned when you saw him relax slightly, moving closer to you.

“The world, the gods, everyone can see what you’re going to become. I can see it, too.” Your voice was quiet, now, the moment becoming startlingly intimate.

“Can you, now?” Jaskier smirked, trying to ignore his increased heartbeat at the lack of distance between the two of you.

With an overconfident nod, you moved your hand over his shoulders. “Of course I can.”

And to those gods I will speak bluntly

We've an accord

If you ever touch or harm him

Your scream pierced the air when you saw a stray arrow flying through the air, striking Jaskier in the side. When you turned back to the bandit who sat atop his horse, bow still at the ready, your eyes darkened.

It didn’t take long to deal with him, reaching up to slice a dagger into his chest before he could reload his bow, barely paying him any mind as he slid off the horse, rushing to Jaskier’s side.

“Geralt!” Your voice carried through the air, praying it reached the witcher who wasn’t much further down the path.

Cursing under your breath, you ripped the cloth from your sleeve, pressing it onto his wound around the arrow to stop the bleeding.

The sight before you broke your heart into pieces, looking down at the bleeding bard. Someone who was once so vibrant, so loud and eccentric, rendered practically silent.

“Geralt!” You called again, voice cracking. Your hands were covered in blood, seeping through the fabric of your torn sleeve. The thought of it being Jaskier’s blood made you nauseous, but you persisted, shutting your eyes tightly and cursing again.

“I swear to you,” You muttered, opening your eyes just long enough to send a glare to the sky, addressing any god that could hear you. “If you allow him to die you will never know peace for as long as I live. You have to save him. You cannot let him die. You can’t.”

Please rest assured

That you might not fear a man

But to a woman by the end you'll kneel and plea

By the time Geralt reached your side, you were still hovering over Jaskier, the body of the bandit not far from either of you.

“The rest of his group are on their way, I can hear three more bandits.” He said, shifting his focus to Jaskier’s wound. “Deal with them, I’ll handle Jaskier.”

You nodded, standing shakily. “Don’t let him die.”

There was a fire in your eyes that stared deep into Geralt’s, and he knew there would be hell to pay if any more harm came to your bard. He unsheathed one of his swords, handing it off to you.

“Go.”

And with his word, you were off.

The three bandits barely stood a chance against you, your blood boiling with the fear of losing Jaskier and the anger of what had been done to him.

You gripped the sword tighter in your hands, seeing one of them approaching. He grinned when he made eye contact with you, unaware of how little life he had left.

By the time you were finished and making your way back to Geralt, the final man left was bleeding out off to the side of the path, propped against a tree with blood pouring from a deep gash on his leg.

“Please,” He begged, looking up at you as you passed. “I beg of you, save me.”

You looked down upon him, grimacing at the sight. His eyes were filled with hope when you approached him, Geralt’s sword still stuck inside the body of a bandit not far off.

It wasn’t until you picked up the axe just out of his reach that the hope faded from his eyes. He didn’t have enough time to beg once more for his life before you brought the axe down over his head, barely flinching when he went limp. You stepped away, pulling the sword out of the corpse that lay bloody in the grass and walking in the direction Geralt had gone.

When you finally found Geralt, who had laid Jaskier onto a bed, handling the wound as fast as he could, he looked up at you.

You gave him a blank stare, letting the sword fall from your hands with a loud clatter, walking to the other side of the room to work on a potion that might help Jaskier. The witcher knew without having to ask that the blood slashed across your face wasn’t your own. Once he gathered you were uninjured, he turned his focus back to the bard before him.

'Cause I'm more than what my mum told me to be

When you thought back to the man pleading for his life, you were reminded of what your mother had always told you when you were younger.

“Y/N,” Your mother sighed when she saw you enter the house covered in dirt, a wide smile on your face that slowly faded at her reaction. “Wash up immediately. It’s not ladylike.”

To avoid an argument, you quickly washed up, wiping the dirt from your face and putting on a clean pair of clothes.

“I wish you wouldn’t play in the woods so often.” She continued once you reappeared, gathering dinner for you and her.

“But it’s fun?” You were truly confused why she had such a problem with it, it’s not like dirt was permanent - you could wash it off any time.

“It’s not ladylike. It’s uncivilized.” Your brows furrowed.

“But then why are the other boys in town allowed to play in the dirt?” When the question left your mouth, the look on your mother’s face made you regret even asking.

“You will never have a respectable life if you continue down this road. You’ll never find a good man, and you’ll just be a hag living alone for the rest of your life.” She didn’t even have to raise her voice to get her point across, the sentence striking deep into your heart.

You sat in silence for a few seconds before you nodded, trying to push away the insecurity burying itself deep within you.

Looking down at Jaskier taking shallow breaths, you blinked back tears, handing Geralt the potion you’d made. With your anxiety steadily increasing, you watched Geralt pour the potion into the gaping wound.

“And now?” You asked, watching the magic cling to Jaskier. It looked similar to a web, pulling at the edges of the wound, working to close it.

“We wait,” Geralt said, leaving the room to give you privacy. He knew you weren’t going to leave Jaskier’s side anytime soon, so he retired to his own room to rest for the night.

He was right - you planted yourself in the seat beside the bed, eyeing the lute that lay on the floor, unscathed.

And I can hear her sing

Jaskier as he lay in bed, felt so far away from the world he was so used to. It was as if he was in a dreamlike state, but he could distantly make out the sound of his own lute. The first few notes caught his attention, strumming carefully.

It wasn’t until he heard your voice singing quietly that he felt some strength return to him. The sound of your singing was so faint and almost distorted that it felt like he was underwater, sinking further and further away from the land of the living. He could barely make out the words you were saying, but it felt so familiar all the same.

With a massive strain of effort, he pushed himself forward, trying with all his might to get back to you.

And I know she's giving up

With you still laying on the bed, the blue glow from Geralt’s potion long gone from your veins, Jaskier couldn’t help the anxiety building in his chest.

“She’s getting weaker,” Geralt said, and Jaskier swore he felt his heart tear into pieces.

Trying to push back his fear, Jaskier knelt by your bedside, taking your hand in his with the utmost care.

“Please, my love.”

You didn’t move, didn’t even flinch.

“I need you,” Jaskier’s voice cracked painfully, a tear rolling down his face when he blinked. “Please stay with me.”

And I don't know what to do, how to help her

How to bring her home

Jaskier, stuck in a dreamlike state, pushed through the feeling of being underwater with your voice just beyond his reach. He had used up all his strength and was now floating in limbo with nothing but your soft voice filling his senses.

The pain was too much that he’d begun to panic, worried he wouldn’t be able to make it home to you. He wanted nothing more than to wake up, to see you smile, to hear your laugh, to be able to hold you in his arms.

He wanted to tell you he loved you.

He needed to tell you he loved you.

When your voice broke, he realized you were crying.

It brought a newfound strength to his body, fighting harder than before to get out, to wake up.

To get to you.

And I can hear him break

You knew you weren’t awake, that you weren’t conscious. You could practically feel how close you were teetering on the line between life and death, trapped in a void-like limbo. Your whole body was numb, the feeling of floating disorienting you.

It was so quiet you almost missed it, but you perked up at the sound of Jaskier’s voice echoing around you. It was so faint you had to strain to listen, unable to make out the words he was saying.

Still, it brought you an odd source of comfort. Even so close to death, Jaskier was still right there, waiting for you. It was a reminder of what to fight for. Something - someone you knew you had to fight for.

You could hear the way his voice broke, and you forced yourself to push toward the source of the sound, knowing you needed to get back to Jaskier no matter what.

And he doesn't understand

Jaskier, doing everything he could to get back to you, was strengthened by hearing you muttering soothing words. You’d stopped singing at this point, instead telling him how he was going to be alright. How you’d make sure of it. How you weren’t going to let him die. Anyone listening would’ve thought you were confident in your words, but Jaskier could hear the way your voice shook almost imperceptibly, fighting back the fear in your heart.

He would never understand why you were so scared of the idea of losing him - you’d mentioned it before on other days when he’d had brushes with death and danger. You told him about how much you needed him, and he couldn’t understand why someone like him was so important to someone like you. He had always wondered why you cared so deeply for him, but it wasn’t something he wanted to take for granted.

So, pushing on, he forced himself to move forward, your voice echoing around him louder than ever.

And I wish that I could take his hand

But where I'm going is for me and me alone

Still trapped in limbo, you bit back the pain you felt, forcing yourself to move closer to Jaskier’s distant voice. You had barely started to make out what he was saying; he seemed to be talking to Geralt about your condition.

“Is it working? Geralt, is anything even happening?” He sounded angry, angrier than you’d ever heard him.

Geralt had responded, but he was so far away you could barely hear him.

“I cannot lose her!” You heard him yell. The pain in his voice pulled at your heartstrings.

Continuing forward, you wanted nothing more than to take his hand in yours and tell him everything was alright. That you were alright.

Though, you weren’t sure if that was true or not at this point.

Another part of you knew, as well, that this was a journey you had to survive on your own, especially if you wanted to see him again.

And I can hear her sing

Louder than ever now, Jaskier could hear your singing. It was a ballad of his that you always told him you loved. It warmed his heart that you knew it so well. You were strumming along on his lute - he remembered when he taught you how to play when the two of you had spare time, which you often did as Geralt was often alone getting coins for the group.

Every part of his body was in pain, but with every note you played and every word you sang, he knew he had to get back to you.

He continued, fighting his way toward the sound of your voice that echoed around him, trying to ignore the ache in his side with every movement.

If I don't make it back from where I've gone

Just know I loved you all along

Jaskier was still talking - he was always good at that. When your limbs felt like jello and every step took every ounce of your energy, you let yourself focus on his calming voice.

For a brief moment, you wondered what would happen if you didn’t make it back. You were so weak you almost let yourself sink back down, falling closer to the line between life and death when Jaskier caught your attention once more.

“Please, Geralt. Please save her. I need her, I can’t-” His voice broke harshly, and you knew nothing would stop you from getting back to the bard that had found himself in your heart.

If I don't make it back from where I've gone

Just know I loved you all along

Jaskier’s finger twitched, and he was starting to feel his surroundings once more, bit by bit. The void state he was in began to fill with color. Your voice was unwavering, now moving on to humming random tunes while you plucked the strings of his lute, unaware of how close Jaskier was to waking up.

He was still unable to force his eyes open, but he could feel the world around him a little better by the second.

The warmth of the blanket laid over him, the light wind from the open window beside him, it all started to creep back into his senses.

After all, you’d been trying so hard to bring him back, he might as well try to do his part.

If I don't make it back from where I've gone

Just know I loved you all along

You made your way closer to where you could hear Jaskier, the desperation in his tone making you more determined than ever.

Ever so faintly, you swore you could feel someone grab your hand, so gently that you instantly knew it was him.

“My heart,” Jaskier whispered, the sound echoing into your soul. “Please wake up.”

The world around you started to fill your senses, so quickly that it was almost overwhelming.

Just as you began to come to, lightly squeezing Jaskier’s hand as a silent indication that you were there, the only thought in your mind was how there was no way in hell you were leaving Jaskier again.

If I don't make it back from where I've gone

Just know I loved you all along

Jaskier blinked awake, squinting at the sudden amount of light.

He barely had enough time to get his bearings before you wrapped your arms around him. He made a noise of surprise, blinking a couple more times before he realized what was going on. Still weak, he brought his arms up around you to return your embrace, letting himself relax in your arms.

“Y/N,” His voice was quiet, but you heard him clear as day, tightening your hold on him.

You finally pulled away, giving Jaskier a shaky smile, whispering a hello that made him grin. Quickly, you wiped the tears that had spilled from your eyes, his gaze softening.

“You’re alright,” You almost laughed, saying the words mostly for yourself than him.

(Loved you all along)

When you managed to open your eyes, Jaskier’s hand still firmly in yours, his breath hitched. He would later tell you it felt like the world slowed down around him the moment he saw your eyes open.

You tried to sit up in the bed before Jaskier hurriedly ushered you back down, not bothering to swipe at the tears from his eyes, too focused on your presence to even notice.

“Of course you were too stubborn to die.” He muttered with a wet laugh.

You barely nodded, still regaining your strength.

“Never scare me like that again, Y/N.” Jaskier’s voice lowered, suddenly very stern. “I can’t lose you. I really can’t.”

“I know, Jask.” He couldn’t help but smile at the nickname, hearing you say it with so much love that he could practically feel your adoration towards him.

Ever so gently, he pulled you into a warm hug, burying your head in his neck.

“I needed to get back to you.” You explained, voice muffled in Jaskier’s hold. “I wasn’t ready to leave you, not yet.”

Jaskier’s brows furrowed, though you hadn’t seen it.

“Why me?” The words came before he could stop them, and he regretted them for only a second when he felt you pull away only for you to maneuver yourself so your forehead was resting against his.

With Geralt long gone, wanting to give the two of you privacy to talk, you sat with him in the silence, comfortable in his presence in a way you could only be around him.

Breaking through the silence was a whispered confession, only to be heard by the both of you.

“I loved you all along.”

#jaskier imagine #jaskier x reader #dandelion x reader #dandelion imagine

[tavyliasin]

ATG 4 - Dream? Nightmare.

In which a devil dances through Tav's sleep.

----- Summary -----

Pairing: Raphael/Tav SPICE Rating: 1.5/5 (teasing, tension) Content Warnings: No sex, implied power play, some intimidation, implied manipulation (implied only, free will and consent are my priority), alcohol (mild)

Spoilers Set in the middle of Act 2, there is a hint of a character who doesn't appear until Act 3, however no name or details of them. Canon Compliance Canon Whomst? - There is a very slight mention of canon material, with Raphael and Mol in Last Light, as well as a little of the Dream Guardian, but this is largely filling a hole (not literally) that I feel we deserve. I tried to keep close to character attitudes, though, and how they might be reacting. Other Notes Self indulgent and slow burn - one does not simply lay with a demon. But it's laying some groundwork, and I love the back and forth sass. It was also fun to play with Tav in a "dream" where consequences don't matter to her. And of course: Free will, darlings, it is important, and in this House of Hoes we lean hard into that sexy consent.  Song/Mood Paralyzed by Aviators and Lectro Dub "Wicked traps are set around you, Not a lantern lit in sight to guide you home you've been looking for the danger and you sense my presence chilling in your bones Take your stance, I will give you one fair chance, So let's make this dance a bloody masquerade. Understand how this ends, and what I am, You're against the night itself so be afraid. That adrenaline rush when weapons fly, It's the fear that brings out that body high So you know that I'm stuck here paralyzed with you." ----- FULL CHAPTER BELOW THE CUT -----

Tavylia was exhausted, or perhaps something several levels past simply exhausted. The sheer effort of staying conscious was an insurmountable task after all the last few weeks had brought. At least they'd found the Inn, one small piece of safety in the cursed Shadowlands, a haven of light and well supplied with alcohol. Thank the gods for small blessings , she had thought as she casually swiped multiple dusty bottles from unattended shelves. 

Of course not everything in the Inn was peaceful. That smug bastard Raphael had made himself known once more, another tempting offer and another battle of wits between sharp tongues had followed. Tav hoped that young Mol was as smart as she claimed, she would need to be if she truly wanted to outsmart a literal devil and make a contract with him. Tav ruefully took another swig of wine. It had soured a little, but it was better than nothing. Raphael , she practically spat the word in her mind, what the fuck do you want with ME? 

It was truly baffling. Here was a cambion who could easily step in and out of Avernus just to…what? Annoy her somewhat? Get under her skin with false promises? He had already tried to strike a deal to remove the mindflayer tadpoles from her brain, and her companions' too of course, but she had held out hope that perhaps the druid Halsin might heal them or that Lae'zel's fellow Githyanki could solve it. Instead, they'd found the Githyanki solution was to sacrifice themselves to the Lich queen hoping to become a god to the gith, a fate which only the strange dream guardian had saved them from. Halsin also had no answer for them, but at least he stayed around to help regardless. His huge form was hardly an unwelcome site to several wandering eyes in camp, her own included…

So. The tadpole deal wasn't going to cut it, there felt like a catch… Besides, as long as they had the Guardian and the strange object that held them, they were safe from that. Some of the tadpole's powers were also proving useful, and Rule 1, of course, is to survive. Another riddle, there. Why was Raphael interested in their survival anyway? This new deal hardly seemed to be that beneficial to him, unless there was a loophole she hadn't spotted yet. A shiver ran down her spine. They had already accepted the terms: defeat the devil's old enemy sealed beneath a temple, and he would tell them the meaning of the scars on Astarion's back. The supposed "poem" carved by his vampire master Cazador. But surely if he wanted to, Raphael could defeat some old enemy, and Tav doubted that the campion bastard would send them to their deaths either. There had to be something else, some other reason…

Another swig of bitter wine and she let the empty bottle fall to the floor with a gentle thud. Her eyes weren't going to stay open any longer like this, and she was far too tired to simply meditate through her rest as elves often chose to do. No, tonight the wine would suffice as a potion of sleep, given that she was immune to the real thing. Darkness closed in as the last candle in the dim Inn room winked out. 

---

Tav knew she was dreaming. Probably. These were no longer the cursed Shadowlands around her, nor the battered coastline they had traipsed across, or the dank Underdark that stood as their path between the two. This was…home? As close to one as she could recall. The Lower City of Baldur's Gate, close to the docks where the sound of the sea echoed through the numerous cracks in the walls.

"Hardly a mansion, is it? Is this really how you lived?" The snide voice could only have come from one mouth, the corners already curling in a derisive smile beneath deceptively disarming raised brows. Raphael laughed. "No wonder you weren't complaining about that pitiful hovel you're actually sleeping in, Little Mouse."

Tav began to feel that his dream likeness was a little too unnerving for her taste, but this was her dream, so she had control. "If you don't like my house, the door is right there. I wouldn't expect a spoiled devil brat to understand, anyway. Home is what I make of it, it is wherever I decide it to be. And yes, for a time, this was my mansion. " 

"Well pardon my dreadful manners, though this is hardly the same hospitality I offered you when you visited my home." His voice kept treading the fine line between derision and allure, something which felt entirely too natural.

"Then you'll just have to excuse me for not enchanting a loaf of stale bread and some stagnant water to appear as a feast to trick you into some infernal deal - if you wanted luxury, you chose the wrong elf."

"Luxury, Little Mouse, I have plenty of at home. And as for the feast, well one can have an appetite for more than just food - I'm sure you've learned this well from your little fanged fling." His eyes travelled up and down her form, making Tav feel even more under-dressed in her own home…dream…whatever this was meant to be. Raphael's human form was, as always, immaculately well dressed and groomed, chestnut hair swept neatly back just barely grazing the edge of his ruffled collar. "So, perhaps you might reconsider what you might put on the table, hmm?"

Tav gave the thought more consideration than she otherwise might have, had she not partaken of quite so much overly-vintage red so close to bed. Curiosity, they said, killed the cat. But according to Raphael, he was the cat, and she was simply a Little Mouse . Which meant, perhaps, that curiosity was not the trap being set for her, but instead might ensnare the demon himself. Turning the tables could be an interesting dream, after all.

Raphael simply sat back in his chair, watching, waiting, while Tav cleared away the few chipped bits of crockery that were strewn across the table, wiping away the dust with the edge of her ragged sleeve. 

"Well, perhaps we could do a little better with your outfit, at least." With a snap of his fingers, Tav felt the fabrics change from the rough and ill-fitted cotton taken from some hapless fool's washing line and into something far more…fitted. Silk draped over her curves, enhancing her form and showing every line of her body in what she assumed by the low whistle from the uninvited guest was at least a little attractive. For a moment, she applauded her self confidence for imagining this, before cursing it for spiking her curiosity more.

First a vampire, now…a devil? Hah, in my dreams, I suppose. 

"A soul coin for your thoughts, Little Mouse?" Raphael had his boots on the table now, making himself quite at home. 

"If you must know, you bizarre figment of my imagination, I am wondering exactly why you have such an interest in some pitiful peasant elf who just happened to get stuck with a bloody tadpole in her brain." She sat on the table itself, pushing his all too fancy shoes back off her furniture and earning another derisive laugh.

"You're fascinating . Full of surprises and contradictions. I thought perhaps you were desperate to survive, ready to take my first deal. But that would have been too easy, now, wouldn't it... So now you get a taste, agreeing to a simple task to help your toy, and that's exactly what I'm doing. It is such fun to watch you scurry about, Little Mouse, stealing some cheese here, yet baring your little teeth at evil over there just to do the smallest amount of good, even if it won't last. In the one moment, you're selfish to the core, serving your needs first, but the next you're putting your very life on the line for some hapless fools once more! How could I not be intrigued by the possibilities? Like right now, there you sit speaking to me as if I am beneath you, and yet in the same breath vastly underestimating yourself." 

"I'm glad I'm proving to be so amusing to you, demon, but I was hoping for more pleasant dreams. So if you wouldn't mind-"

"Ah, were you expecting another chat with your so called Guardian, hmm?" He laughed, the smile not quite reaching his eyes. "A tiefling, aren't they? Is that more to your liking, then, the horns and the tail?"

"They're a useful tool, nothing more." She paused. "Though even a tool can be attractive, I suppose."

"So you do understand how I see you, then." He sat forwards now, face and body growing slightly and warping to his demonic red form, wings unfolding behind him. "I cannot wait to put you to use. "

His true form's eyes looked like lit fires burned within them, gaze piercing her soul, almost as if it were a real fire heating her body from within. Had the drafty old house by the sea always been this warm?...

Raphael's hands enveloped Tav's, pinning them to the table as he rose above her, glowing eyes looking down with an unexpected curiosity, as if he wasn't sure what he was planning himself. "For a dream, you seem…vivid. Normally by now this scene would've shifted to some nightmare dredged up by my memories, or perhaps of late to my Guardian's domain for one of their midnight chats…" 

"Little Mouse, I can be either a dream or a nightmare, that choice is yours to make. But rest assured, I shall let neither memories nor Guardian intrude on our little Soiree tonight." The pressure released from her hands as he stood fully and instead extended his fingers towards her, a gesture born of high society etiquette. A song she had never heard began to echo in Tav's ears, the haunting melody that prickled that sense of danger deep within her. A sense that had begun to feel more enticing than perilous, thanks in no small part to her time with Astarion. "Well, would you care to join me for a dance, Little Mouse?"

The room grew and shifted as she stood from the table, a shiver of anticipation running through her entire being as she took his hand, accepting the invitation. The surroundings became like nothing she had ever seen before, a vast ballroom with shadows waltzing around them, yet none getting close enough to make her feel crowded. The decorations felt as unreal and shifting as any dream, becoming more like feelings than clear details. An atmosphere just suited to dance with a devil. “You surprise me,” Tav said, as they began to move around the ballroom to the hauntingly beautiful music, “you’re surely more than powerful enough to take whatever you want, and yet you always ask. ” “Free will, Little Mouse, is far more interesting than a simple spell to compel you to follow my orders like a mindless beast.” His arm curled around her waist, pulling her closer, and she felt as if their feet barely touched the floor at all as they continued their dance. Both literally and metaphorically, she might’ve thought, if she wasn’t listening between every word and line seeking for his real meaning. “Free will?” she echoed, still unwilling to break eye contact.

“Free. Will. Where is the game, where is the challenge without it? How little you understand of the thrill of catching someone in your web and drawing them ever closer, knowing that every step they take has been on of their own choosing.” As if to emphasise his point, Raphael allowed her to spin lightly away, one hand still entwined with hers, but did not pull to draw her back in.

Tav felt herself dancing back into his embrace once more, his arm on her waist ensnaring her even tighter this time, a slight sound leaving her lips unbidden at the feel of their bodies pressed more closely together. The vibrations of his low chuckle resonated through her ribs.

“See, Little Mouse, here you are, entirely of your own accord. And why? Hoping to learn a few of my secrets, are you?” The smug look on his face was becoming almost unbearable now, but Tav drew on the deepest parts of her courage to respond.

“Everything is of my choosing, isn’t it.” She mused quietly, an idea forming quickly in her mind, not breaking eye contact for a second. “I could simply choose to leave, or ignore you, or let my dream take another shape. Or instead I could follow whatever whim I like.”

She unlaced their fingers and took her other hand from his waist, reaching up on the tips of her toes and taking a firm grip of his horns to pull his face down towards her. If she had been paying attention, she would’ve seen the smug look melt away to be replaced with something between utter confusion and unexpected anticipation, but she wasn’t wasting a single beat of the melody that still swirled around them. She caught his lips in a kiss, pressing her body against his, taking a tentative taste of his lips.

If fire had a flavour, that would’ve been how she described the taste, with a hint of the same cherry that lingered in the air around him wherever he went. Blissfully the sulphur was masked by this, though she assumed that her dream would give her everything she imagined in the way she wanted it most. And, Gods, was she now painfully aware of what she wanted.

Intoxicating. That was the only way to describe the feeling when Raphael began to return her kiss. Different to the heated passion and whispering words of love that Astarion pressed to her lips… No, this was greed. A far simpler riddle to solve than any of the devil’s other motivations. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her body perhaps a little too firmly against his own, wings encircling the pair now as their latest dance began.

The music shifted, swayed, the unseen orchestra swelling with new chords that should’ve alarmed Tav…but her own choir was already singing to the tune. A casual observer might begin to wonder if what they saw in that formless ballroom was a kiss or a battle, but both answers would be correct.

Rogue and Demon were stubborn to a fault, each seeking to out-do the other, each probing the other for answers even though their questions were vastly different. For Tav, it was “how far can this dream go before I wake?” , yet for Raphael he wondered instead “why can I not get this infuriating Little Mouse out of my head…what is it that’s keeping me here?”

Unfortunately, perhaps for both, only one would get their answer, as the music swiftly subsided just as they might have gone further.

“Pity.” Raphael hissed, as he broke away from Tav and allowed them both to drift back to the floor. “It seems we will have to put this little thought on hold, it seems you have another caller on the line.”

“What?” Tav couldn’t keep the confusion from her breathless reply, the taste of burning cherry still dancing across her tastebuds.

“Your supposed Guardian is requesting an audience, I don’t think they’re willing to indulge you in another moment’s peace.” He frowned, reverting back to the more human cambion form in which he had first appeared that night. “Perhaps some other time, Little Mouse, you might care to sample a finer meal.”

With one final snap of his fingers, the scenery melted away into smoke, as Tav felt her dream lurch unsettlingly into the Guardian’s domain.

---

The rocks Tav stood upon floated through space, the sounds of distant battle echoing across the stars around her. She silently cursed the timing of her secretive “saviour”, and wondered for a fleeting moment how much they might’ve seen. They appeared beside her, stepping from a shadow, their golden armour now sparkling in the light. Their voice was soft, warm, a strange kind of comfort in all kinds of times. It was now that Tav realised, much to her relief, that her appearance had reverted to her simple camp clothes that she slept in. A silk gown didn’t feel fitting for the serious look on the face before her.

“Sit, please. I do not know how long we will have, but I would like to talk.” Two-toned eyes peered at her face, filled with concern. “Your heart was racing, but your mind…was closed to me.” “Oh, that - I was just sleeping. Nothing but a dream, I’m fine. Really.” Sitting now beside them, Tav laid a hand on their shoulder. “There’s nothing for you to worry about.” “Are you certain that was all there was to it? A dream?” They shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through the long hair that flowed down to their shoulders, parted slightly around the horns that curved around from their forehead to their ears like those of a ram. “I…do not like to pry, we all deserve our secrets, after all, but usually if I so wished I could see your dreams.” “You do seem to have more secrets than most. But that’s strange… Why might that be closed to you? You’ve been able to see through my eyes plenty of times in the waking world without issue, and if dreams are the same…” A thought was beginning to occur to Tav, one that she was extremely willing to shut down before it could take root and expand into startling and terrifying realisations. “Only powerful magic could prevent the connection we share, our bond is one that cannot be easily overcome.” The Guardian tilted their head quizzically, seeming to assess Tav as her thoughts began to sprint down the forbidden path to the uncomfortable truth. “What is it? Are you sure there isn’t something wrong?” “Oh. Oh fuck.” Tav’s conscious mind had run directly into a large stone wall, and the writing upon it was crystal clear. She continued, mumbling more to herself than as any kind of response to the tiefling warrior by her side. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. How did I not realise that it was possible? What was in that wine? Is that what he did?...”

The Guardian remained silent, simply laying a quiet hand upon Tav’s as she processed the horrifying culmination of each of her actions, one after the other. 

“Spoiled devil brat, I called him, right before falling into his seductive little game as easily as if we were playing Lanceboard. Shit…SHIT!   Bizarre figment of my imagination, I called him that too, right before suggesting he was an attractive tool and-”

Her mind was reeling, turning over every word in detail, knowing they were not in fact spoken to an apparition but likely all too directly to the one devil she could not afford to cross. The Guardian stayed with her still, a strange comforting presence, even as she sank even deeper into her thoughts, speaking them in barely a whisper now. “Gods, I actually danced with a devil…I kissed him - what the fuck was I thinking?! The signs were there, how did I not notice? My mind can’t conjure images I’ve never seen, music I’ve never heard…” A look between amusement and confusion coloured the Guardian’s features, but they remained with Tav. They didn’t leave until the dawn woke her, staying right beside her, a few tentative gestures attempting to soothe her worries. Not that she noticed, of course. In fact, the one key thing in all her panic that Tav had completely failed to notice, was how Raphael had reacted. It wasn’t some dream of her own that had conjured his actions, and neither of them had a single clue yet of what that might lead to.

---

Meanwhile, in Avernus, a shimmering door made of pure magic managed to slam shut, despite having no corporeal form. Raphael didn’t enter with his usual confident swagger, but instead damn near stormed into his lavish bedchamber with a fury hotter than all the Nine Hells.

A familiar voice called out to him from where its owner reclined upon silken sheets, awaiting his return. “Did you enjoy your little trip?”

“Shut up, Harlot. ” Raphael spat back at his companion, earning a dark laugh from the latter.

“My my, name calling, is it now? She must have really got under your skin this time.” Another laugh echoed from the walls, an edge more of cruelty slipping into the tone now. “How about you stop your whining now, I’m sure we would both rather have you moaning instead. And with my proper name, if you please, Archduke. ”

----------- ----------- ENDING NOTES ----------- ----------- The end section there will be back, I left it as a nice little setup and introduction. It was also my first time writing any lines for Haarlep and that dynamic...I have since become addicted to it, obviously... Ever since I met Raphael in game, like so many others it was one eyebrow raise and his speech patterns and I was done for, down for the count, a bad case of Devil Fever and no wish for a cure~ We also get more insight into Tav's past here. I don't have a huge amount of detail into the specifics, but surviving alone from the age she did was never an easy thing. Desperation could've brought him to her door sooner, but she held her own better than even she expected. In terms of those details, honestly I am happy for you all to insert whatever headcanons feel right to you for Tav as a character. She's headstrong, wilful, and hedonistic, but all of that came at a cost. She had to learn to make and enforce her own choices, and to seize what pleasures in life she could before they slip away again. Everything is only ever temporary in Tav's world, she's truly going one day to the next, because the whims of Fate never give her a chance to do anything else.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 raphael #bg3 tav #a tav's guide #fanfic #haarlep #dream guardian

[hotchs-bitch]

Fluffy Feb Day 25- Gift

Warnings: established relationship, some lying & insecurity, this is a little angsty and I'm sorry it's just because men are stupid, thoughts of infidelity (not like that, calm down), wedding vows, reassurance

Pairing: Hotch x blank slate Fem!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 1915

A/N: Bonus points if you can figure out what Taylor Swift song I was listening to when I wrote this

On the day of your fourth anniversary with Aaron, you wake up excited. You can hardly believe that it’s been four years since you married the perfect man; four years that you’ve taken on life together.

You’re in the mood to celebrate- maybe make him breakfast, or go out to dinner and a movie tonight after you exchange gifts- but the universe has other plans. “Good morning, honey!” Aaron calls out when he hears the bedroom door open. 

It sounds like he’s moving around the kitchen- maybe he’s beat you to the breakfast idea- and you’re just starting to open your mouth, the ‘Ha-‘ of ‘Happy anniversary’ on its way out when he says, “I’ve got to get going. I’ve got an early meeting with Strauss. Have a good day, okay?”

On the day of your fourth anniversary, your husband gives you a kiss on the cheek and hardly a second glance before he’s out the door. Great. Your excitement has mostly deflated now, and you busy yourself with getting ready for work. At least you can still go out to dinner and celebrate then, right?

You’re mostly excited to exchange gifts. You’ve managed to find an antique coin collection- one of Aaron’s favourites from his childhood (he’s complained more than once about how if he had just found one last penny he would have had the whole set)- and his favourite Scotch. His gifts always blow yours out of the water, though. He’s thoughtful and observant, a lethal combination.

Your excitement for dinner and gifts wanes down to nothing when he texts you that afternoon.

Aaron: I need to stay late and figure out these budget cuts. Not sure when I’ll be home, don’t wait up.

You aren’t quite sure how to respond. Has he forgotten your anniversary completely? It’s so unlike him, but so is this behaviour. He always tries to be around during special events. Finally, you text back after re-reading your text three times to make sure it won’t come across as annoyed.

Me: Okay. I love you

Aaron: I love you too. Don’t forget to eat.

And you don’t hear from him again that day. 

The next day, you wake up early. Aaron is snoring in bed next to you, his alarm not set to go off for nearly an hour. You’re sleepy, but you’ve officially got the jump on some late anniversary celebrations. As quietly as possible, you creep into the kitchen and start to prepare breakfast wraps for the two of you.

The eggs are sizzling in the pan when Aaron emerges from the bedroom, wearing a suit and a face full of guilt. “It smells great in here, honey.” He pulls you in for a quick kiss, and when he pulls away he still looks guilty.

Finally, he’s figured out that he missed your anniversary. Or so you think. “I’m really sorry to do this- breakfast looks delicious,” he murmurs, and there’s a familiar twist in your gut when you realize what he’s about to say. “I’ve got to get to work right away. This budget issue, it’s just impossible to get ahead of.”

“Oh.” The lump in your throat feels tangible, makes it hard to breathe, so you inhale deeply and avert your gaze. “You should get going.”

“Thanks for thinking of me, though.” He presses a quick kiss to your temple as he fills up a coffee traveller. “I’ll cook for us this weekend, or something.”

The door closes behind him, and it’s like a nail in the coffin. He forgot.

That day, he sends a similar text to the one from last night. He’ll be home late, he’s so sorry, and it’s so predictable that you don’t text back. Instead, you call Emily that night to complain about how her job is costing you your husband’s presence. 

“He’s been too busy trying to figure out this stupid budget that he forgot about our anniversary! I mean, what does that say for us? Or our future kid’s birthdays?” You complain.

Emily whistles under her breath. “Another budget issue already? Him and Strauss just finalized this year’s financial restrictions last week,” she comments. It’s so casual that she obviously doesn’t realize what she’s implying until she hears your sharp intake of breath.

You don’t know how to feel now; either the BAU is so screwed that Aaron will be in budget meetings for the rest of his life, or he’s lying to you. “What if he’s cheating on me?” You blurt out.

“Hey. Hey, keep your head on straight. He thinks you hung the sun,” Emily reminds you firmly. “Hotch doesn’t have an unfaithful bone in his body.”

It’s too much, too overwhelming; you’re too far gone to listen to her, and that’s when you hear a key turn in the door down the hallway. “I need to go,” you mumble, and then you hang up on your friend even as she tries to protest. You can apologize later.

By the time Aaron turns the corner into the living room, your eyes have blurred with tears. They make it so that you can’t see the broad smile on his face, or the parcel tucked into his arm that he sets aside with his briefcase. 

Or the smile being wiped away as soon as he sees your face. “Sweetheart? Honey, what’s wrong?” He asks.

“Are you cheating on me?” You demand more than ask, and he visibly blanches.

To say that Aaron looks blown away by your accusation is an understatement. He looks hurt, and shocked, and concerned. Concern is what radiates off of him when he rushes over to you, gathering you in his arms even when you make a half-assed attempt to push him off.

“What are you talking about?” He asks, and you jerk your head away to avoid making eye contact. A tear spills over at the motion, and he wipes it away with a hand that gently guides you to look at him. “Hey. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

“You didn’t even answer the question!” You’ve got no idea where this is coming from. There’s never been a single indication of Aaron cheating, even with the long hours and time away from home. You’re spiraling now, and he’s the only person who can help when you get like this, but it’s all his fault.

“No,” he says firmly, his tone erasing any trace of doubt in the air. “I’m not cheating on you. I don’t… What's going on? Why would you think that? I wouldn’t- I could never…”

“Emily told me the budget thing was resolved a week ago.” As though you can save a shred of dignity, you wipe furiously at your cheeks to erase any evidence of tears. “You lied to me. I’ve barely seen you this week, and you forgot our anniversary, and- And you lied!”

This is the big point, and you both know it. Aaron has never lied to you, and you’ve always been honest with him. If he’s lying now, staying away from home when he doesn’t need to, what changed?

When you meet his eyes again, he looks upset like you’ve never seen him. The weight of your accusation has rattled him, you can tell. “I didn’t mean for it to be like this,” he whispers, holding you a little closer. “I would never cheat on you. I’m crazy about you, come on.”

The reassurance helps a little, one side of your mouth lifting before it drops just as quickly. “You lied to me.”

“I know I did. I felt terrible about it, you have to believe me.” He lets you go, then goes to retrieve the parcel you’ve hardly noticed until now. “It’s- Your anniversary gift came late. And I didn’t want you to think I didn’t get you anything, because you always give me the perfect gifts.”

Your eyebrows furrow, trying to make sense of what he’s telling you now. “You forgot our anniversary.” Whether you’re reminding him or yourself, you aren’t sure.

“I would never forget it,” he vows, walking back to the couch with the brown paper package in one hand. “I was just… I don’t know. I was an idiot. I thought that if you thought I was busy with work, we could push back on celebrating until it arrived, and you wouldn’t know.”

“I wouldn’t know? You didn’t even acknowledge it yesterday!” Your voice raises, and Aaron pushes the package into your hands.

He sighs at that, a self-decreprating sound that hurts you as much as it hurts him. “I messed up. I know I did. I just didn’t want you to think I didn’t care, or didn’t get you something, and it backfired. I’m so sorry, honey.” The remorse on his face is real, written into every line and shining in his eyes. “I’ll never lie to you again, I promise. I thought I was doing the right thing.”

As though your hands have a mind of their own, you open the paper packaging without responding to him. “What is this?” 

“Pull it out,” he encourages, and the picture frame inside the packaging slides out into your hands when he pulls the paper.

“Oh…” You breathe out, taking in the image in the oak frame that matches the rest of your furniture. “This is…”

Words fail you; None can describe the gift. It’s a framed picture of you and Aaron on your wedding day, his arms around you while you both beam at the camera. The picture is cropped within the frame, and the words surrounding it look familiar.

“They’re our vows.” He breaks the silence tentatively. “I know I made a mistake. I never want you to think that I could so much as look at someone else. You’re all I’ve ever needed.”

Now, the tears blurring your vision are from some twist of happiness and relief. The vows have been tucked away since the wedding, out of sight, even though the promises you’ve made to love and support one another unconditionally have been realized every day.

It’s in writing, and when you look closely you realize that it’s in Aaron’s writing. He’s handwritten the vows for this, copied them all down. Every promise to love each other through the good and the bad, every pledge to be faithful in sickness and health and when work and life gets in the way, every assurance that you love each other more than you could ever bear to love anyone else; he wrote them all down, copied them out, because they’re still true. Truer than ever, maybe.

You cover Aaron’s hand with your own as he speaks again. “I am… devoted to you. I would worship the ground you walk on, if you would let me. And I vow to never lie to you again.”

When you turn your head and capture his lips in a kiss, you’re reminded of your wedding day. The spirit behind each promise you had made, and the love in your heart that’s only ever grown and flourished in the last four years.

“I love you,” you whisper, and it doesn’t feel like enough, but neither did the original vows when you said them. There are no words, nothing in any language you could learn that could begin to explain what he means to you.

The words that you’ve got in front of you will have to do.

“I love you, too,” he whispers, squeezing your hand in his. “Happy anniversary, my love.”

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Fluffy Feb tags: @doctorsteths-fluffyfeb @iammirrorball @hausofwhores @allthefandomstogether @myweepingangel @hotched @spacecowboyhotch @chibsytelford @honeybrowne @formulapierre @nd264 @hotchnerxnegan1017 (send me a dm or ask to be tagged!)

#my writing #t’s blurbs #fluffy feb #doctorsteths fluffy feb #aaron hotchner x fem reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x fem reader #hotch x you #Aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction #hotch fanfic #hotch fanfiction #cm fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #Aaron hotchner fluff #hotch fluff #hotch x reader fluff #Aaron hotchner x reader fluff

[hearthouses]

you say, go fast (i say, hold on tight). 2-5, 15

you say, go fast (i say, hold on tight)

2) What scene did you first put down?

I write linearly for the most part, so I usually have to put down the first scene first, then later I can generally jump around. Or in other instances, I have to put down what I think will be the first scene but that can be subject to change later on if something fits better. For this fic I needed to adhere to a strict linear style, so the opening scene was the first scene put down and everything fell into place after.

3) What’s your favorite line of narration?

I’m very fond of this opening description, I love the imagery and I was really going off the vibes of the setting and the mood of the era:

He and Dean were alone on the long stretch of desert highway, no cars having passed for miles, their only company being the dust kicked up from the road by the impala’s tires and the shadows stretching into the vast emptiness off the highway shoulder. In front of them is sun-cracked pavement and a rocky horizon, city lights rebounding over the peaks and breaking off into speckled starlight, scattered across the deep midnight blue sky. The moon has waned into a thin sliver of a crescent, curved and sharp like a scythe, hacking into the atmosphere—a grim omen, one that settles heavy in Sam’s stomach, like a boulder. Sam looks away from the window and towards his brother behind the wheel. Dean’s profile is a series of angles and curves in the heavy cover of darkness, no street lamps to illuminate him in bursts as they drive past, just the steady outline of him that Sam had been taking in and memorizing, watching Dean when he wasn’t looking, taking snapshots in his mind and committing them to memory. This is what Dean looks like blanketed in desert night air. This is what Dean sounds like humming along to Johnny Cash on the local radio station, his thumbs tapping out the rhythm of the song on the steering wheel. This is what will be gone in a few dwindling months.

4) What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

I hate writing dialogue, I try and keep my dialogue to a minimum, if possible because I don’t think I have the the skill for writing strong dialogue, so answer this is hard because there’s not a lot of dialogue to begin with, but I like this because it is cute and banter-y:

Dean never turned the headlights off, leaving them on to give Sam a good view as he strips—starting with his shirt, going button by button and taking his time as he reveals more inches of skin, walking towards Sam, before weaving around him when Sam tries to touch him, walking himself backwards. “Not yet,” Dean says, continuing down the row of buttons and untucking his shirt, letting it fall open when he gets to the end, giving a peepshow of his stomach and nipples every time he moves. "Stripper rules, really, Dean?" Sam says, voice dropping an octave as desire pools at the back of his throat, licking his lips as he follows Dean to the other side of the car, but doesn’t get too close, keeping his hands down. Dean's teeth glint as he smiles, shining in the moonlight. “Just play along,” he says, then starts to slip the shirt down, revealing one freckled shoulder first, then a bicep, then an elbow, each bit of skin revealed like a present, unwrapping himself with careful precision.

5) What part was hardest to write?

The perspective. Sam POV is difficult for me. I will easily lapse into Dean POV and it’ll flow, but Sam POV is like writing as a form of excavation, I have to figure out the layers of his emotions as I go along.

15) What did you learn from writing this fic?

That I can still sometimes throw caution to the wind and write down a random image that blossoms into a 10K fic without my hand-wringing and anxiety and obsessive planning and it is still good.

put one of my fic titles in my ask + questions about it

#buddyaldridge #replies! #wincest #sam x dean #samdean #fic asks meme

[thewonandonly]

TWENTY TWO.FIVE — AUGUST 6, 2022, 12:45PM

trigger warning: mention of se|f injury! please read at your own risk. if needed, this chapter can be skipped.

you wandered into the convenience store, giving an excited wave to mingi as he drove off, having the weekend off to spend time with his family; which also meant you had no means of getting home, since yunho, jongho and san all had prior commitments. fixing the bag on your shoulder, you turned into the store, your mood already turning to disgust when you make eye contact with seonghwa who stood behind the counter.

"hello, welcome in." he said, his regular smirk decorating his face. you sighed softly, your shoulders slumping, and the bag falling to your hands as you walked over to the back office to clock in for the day.

seonghwa had another one of his songs playing over the store speakers, and you didn't recognize it, so you decided to push it to the back of your mind.

you set your bag down and stood beside him at the counter, "is there anything that needs to be done?"

seonghwa shook his head, blinking slowly, "did everything when i came in."

you nodded.

the silence was unbearably uncomfortable for you, and for a second, you wondered if it was like that for seonghwa too.

you looked down at the counter, before the regular armwarmers across seonghwa's arms caught your eye, "you know, if boss man comes in and he sees you with those on, he's gonna throw a fit."

seonghwa chuckled, placing his hands against the counter as he leaned back, "yeah, you're right." he gently pulled the armwarmers off.

it's been a little less than a week since seonghwa started working at the convenience store with you. he's brought in a ton of customers, mostly high schoolers, and older woman, who normally lose their mind over how "attractive" he is.

you normally got stuck restocking shelves while he worked the counter to rope the customers into buying more than they need. even on the clock, he was more manipulative than ever.

seonghwa noticed that the work load got easier with one person at the counter and the other restocking shelves where it was needed. the work day was already slow for seonghwa as soon as he finished stocking, cleaning and managing the store. but as soon as you walked in, seonghwa already found a few ways to tease you. letting you sit in the uncomfortable silence he had no intention of occupying, treating you like a stranger whenever you purchased a snack for yourself, or even making fun of your music taste.

you both sat at the register, both sharing a sigh with one another. a shiver bellows down your spine as you felt the chill entering the space.

"it's cold in here." you whispered more to yourself.

seonghwa laughed, prodding his cheek with his tongue almost as if he was annoyed, "you're cold? i feel fine."

you thought you knew seonghwa, even with how little you actually do, he was kind of predictable. but he surprised you when he responded like an actual human for a second.

not only were his arms covered in tattoos, that you haven't noted before, due to his constant habit of wearing long sleeves or those armwarmers he just took off; there was scars clinging to his skin. biceps, forearms, wrists. some looked healed, others looked fresh. it was rude to stare, yet, you couldn't pull your eyes away, scanning his arms intently.

seonghwa noticed the staring; i mean, it was hard not to. he thought there was a hole ripping through his arm as you stared. he cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably. hongjoong was really the only one who knew about his affliction, and for someone else to finally see the truth that he tried so hard to hide with pigmented ink, and fabrics of clothing, it made him extremely uncomfortable, like he was in those nightmares you get when you show up to school in only your underwear, like he was exposed. some type of clarity might help, "i did it to myself." he gently kicked the counter with his shoe, nodding his head to his arm.

"what?"

"got hospitalized for it." he shrugged, like this was just a nonchalant talk the two of you were having, despite the air getting heavier around the two of you, "well, after the first thing i did, then i got hospitalized again for this." he looked at his arm, turning his arm slowly.

you thought for a second he was talking about the tattoos, the way he admired them, but no, he wasn't admiring the injuries lingering on his arm, he seemed upset by them.

"why—"

the door opened and seonghwa immediately greeted whoever came in, like he wanted to finish the conversation there.

standing there, you felt like an idiot for even staring. you never meant for him to feel uncomfortable or embarrassed. as a people pleaser, that's the last thing you wanted.

he gave you a little glimpse into his life, and you should respect it.

all the articles you read about him entered your brain once again, thinking back to why exactly he did that to himself, but you knew why. you knew full well why he was doing that to himself.

you decided to just ignore the thought for a second, grabbing the armwarmers he previously took off, and ran your thumb over them. seonghwa was doing just about anything to hide the part of him he didn't want anyone to see, especially in the moment, helping the guests. he held his hands behind his back, he moved his arm so fast when typing in the product id and he placed his hands on the extra seat the person at register was given to give them a short break off their feet. he seemed anxious about where the convenience store vest was, fixing it to hide the area.

you took it all into account that this is not something he wanted people to see.

when the customers left, you held the armwarmers back to seonghwa, a brief smile on your lips, "so you don't get cold." you whispered, "the thermostat says it's below 60 degrees in here."

seonghwa pulled the armwarmers over his wrists, up to his elbows, and he suddenly seemed like his regular old self.

a smirk covered his face again.

"seonghwa, i just wanted to say, that i'm sorry for saying you were like my dad." you looked at the side of his face, "to me, that's the worst insult i could come up with. but, you're nothing like my dad." you shook your head, "well, kind of, but i mean— wait, that's rude, sorry."

seonghwa chuckled, a natural chuckle, not the degrading one that was given when you were being an idiot, or the one that he gave to wooyoung when he was annoyed, "i know what you're trying to say." he interrupted, "you don't have to ramble."

you laughed softly, nervously. oh my god, why were you getting nervous? seonghwa's the type of person to judge no matter what, or at least you thought he was. you cleared your throat, swallowing the feeling, "start over?"

seonghwa rolled his eyes, "i don't think starting over would have anything to help with this." he motioned to the two of you.

"fine." you shrugged, "by the end of the day, we'll be best buds." she held her hand out, requesting to seal the deal that they'd be friends.

seonghwa was almost tempted to open the door of his lonely brain and allow her in, but he reserved a space for someone else, so he just pretended he didn't see her hand, and turned his head back to the door of the store.

"uh, speaking of being best buds," she started, "do you think you can give me a ride home?"

seonghwa sighed.

this was going to be a weird shift.

PARK SEONGHWA is a stone-cold, cantankerous punk-rock player. He hates everything about the world, and if he had just one chance, he’d do anything to keep the best thing about the world in his arms; you, the complete opposite of everything he’s ever built up to hate.

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[trashytoastboi]

Oh joy asks are open again 😄

If it's not to much could I ask for headcannons about present mic, hawks, all might and Dabi finding out there s/o is terrified of thunderstorms?

Greetings! 🍀🍞 terribly late to reply to this request and I'm very sorry! Though very long twas not forgotten, I hope you enjoy~

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(Gender Neutral)

Headcanons: Present Mic, Hawks, All Might, Dabi – Finding out their S/O is afraid of thunderstorms

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Present Mic (Yamada Hizashi)

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📢 Hizashi and {Name} were relaxing, of course Hizashi still kept his very upbeat attitude but it was a long day and his instant flop onto the couch was an indicator of that. Both had a longer day than most, work was a bit draining. Everyone seemed to be feeling the slump and laziness initiated by the weather. There was a slight chill, dark clouds hung overhead. Some people were invigorated and waiting for the rain, others feeling drab and some just waiting for the moment they could crawl into bed and sleep. The downpour came as they arrived home, thankfully there was no getting caught in the rain moments. Hizashi no doubt would have started singing his own rendition of Escape. The couple were in their own space and could just unwind and relax. The rain added to that... until a loud rumble practically shook the area and {Name} felt that dread set in so hard and fast they were almost winded.

📢 The sound was awfully loud and {Name} panicked unintentionally trying to calm themselves down. They buried their head under the blanket, hands over their ears while trying to block out the sound. Many might have considered it an overreaction but they didn't quite understand just how terrified {Name} was of the thunder. They needed a safe space to try and hide from it. Logically speaking, {Name} was well aware that it's impossible to run away from something like thunder. Though hiding did prove to alleviate the fear a bit.

📢 Hizashi noticed {Name's} panicking, he was confused as to what was happening. He held a smile, let out some nervous laughter in attempt to brighten the mood. It all seemed to be going fine until there another crash of thunder. {Name} practically jumped out of their skin and comparable to a rabbit, tried to burrow deeper into the safety of the bed. He clicked that the thunder was the cause.

📢 Usually some loud jams, a bit of amping for the crowd and some chanting shouts would have been his go to- however, seeing the state {Name} was in...perhaps more noise was not the answer. A very rare moment indeed when he chose to be quiet more than anything. Hizashi slipped under the blanket, looking for {Name} who had thrown a pillow over their head to try block out the sounds.

📢 Hizashi took a softer tone and a quieter volume, him speaking so calmly and softly was very unusual. It forced {Name} to concentrate on his words, taking their attention away from the thunder. Even while the thunder went on, they were more invested in holding this conversation with him. He even started singing some very soft songs, occasionally getting too into it and going up a couple decibals.

📢 Dependant on the forecast was whether or not Hizashi prepared for the thunder again and preparing ways to help his partner through it. Mostly with distracting them away from the sound and occupying them with building blanket tents, even giving little music lessons that made them listen to music more and more, the headphones proved to be a great method of helping them through the thunder storms.

Hawks (Takami Keigo)

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🦅 Rainy weather wasn't exactly rare, most of the time it was more drizzling, light rains. Almost pleasant like those sleep aid CDs. Difference is when lightening and thunder join the mix. {Name} definitely could say they liked the rain, until it was a thunderstorm. Hawks wasn't new to {Name's} fear of thunderstorms, he knew they found it really terrifying and he tried his best to help them settle and feel comfortable without stressing over the fear too much. {Name} knew a lot of people didn't take the fear seriously, some even mocked it. Thankfully Hawks was not one of those people and rather chose to help them.

🦅 {Name} and Hawks were bundled up and under the blankets, watching whatever random movie popped up on the 'recommended for you' queue. The rain was acting as background ambience, until the wind picked up and lightening started flashing across the skies ever so often. Ironically enough they had been watching a horror movie, one that proved pretty boring and uneventful. The sudden sound of thunder had {Name} jolting and seeking sanctuary under the blanket and pretty close to Hawks.

🦅"Hm? Baby? I thought you said the movie wasn't scary" Hawks chuckled when he lifted the blanket and saw {Name} clinging onto him like a koala for dear life. He had been so invested in the movie he failed to notice the sound of thunder and had mistaken it for something in the movie. {Name} looked up, they had tears in their eyes from the sudden and frightful occurrence. They began to settle down, in the hopes that it really was just a random thundercloud that came and went on its merry way.

🦅 Reality did not prove to be so kind, the gentle rain turned into a violent storm rife with thunder and lightening. Hawks took a moment before he realized that the reason why they had been so terrified earlier was due to the thunder and that's why they were clinging to him, trying to get away from the sound. Honestly he was happy that they came to him as their first reaction. It made Hawks a little proud to be so relied on, he cooed trying to soothe {Name} and get their mind off the thunder.

🦅 Hawks reshuffled, trying to get into a more comfortable position that allowed him to utilize his little plan. He brought {Name} closer, having them lay on top of him, their head on his chest. Soft red feathers surrounded the two, they always found Hawks wings to be quite pretty, seeing the way he used his wings to surround them and act as a metaphorical barrier of sorts made them feel safe. "See, it's just you and me here baby. Nothing to be scared of." Hawks spoke assuredly, his hands petting their head, combined with the steady sound of his heartbeat calmed {Name} down and the thought of the thunder was secondary.

🦅 It may have worked a bit too well, because Hawks and {Name} ended up falling asleep throughout the storm, and they may even argue it was the best sleep either of them had in a long while. Now thunderstorms while still scary, were also opportunities to get a really good sleep with the Hawks method. Tried, tested and approved by {Name}.

All Might (Yagi Toshinori)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

💪Toshinori was pretty sensitive to the way people were feeling, especially if they were scared. More than most he could sense people who were fearful. Even though {Name} tried to hide how they felt, they couldn't really disguise it around him. The storm was raging and heavy, enough to make people a little anxious, but the thunder made it a whole lot worse for {Name} who had been scared of the thunder for as long as they could remember.

💪 The sound of thunder was so loud, deafening and practically rattled {Name} to their bones. The fright that startled them caused them to drop the mugs filled with hot beverages. The commotion caught Toshinori's attention, he rushed over and due to instinctive reaction be changed into his larger form. Noticing the broken pieces of the mugs on the ground, he scooped {Name} up and away from all the broken glass. Still recovering from the scare, {Name} snuggled and found comfort in Toshinori's arms.

💪No matter what form he was in, {Name} always felt reassured by his smiles and calming presence. It wasn't difficult to find out what put {Name} into that scared state after seeing the way they reacted to every rumble of thunder. Many fears exist in the world and something like a fear pertaining to nature was perfectly justified. {Name} often told themselves that and used it as a part of their logic to calm them down. Toshinori could tell they were fixated, stuck in their fear of the thunder and so he asked a random question "What percentage of the Earth's wildlife is found in the ocean?" {Name} was surprised by the random question, they racked their brain trying to find the answer "Uh, 70%?"

Toshinori smiled at {Name's} reply, "94%" he stated softly

💪Toshinori laughed a bit "I even caught Aizawa with that one... let's see" he pondered for a moment, considering the next question he should ask "What are baby rabbits called?" {Name} was trying to think of the name, though what kept coming to mind was "Bunny" and that was how they answered. "I suppose we call them bunnies more often than not. Although they're officially called kits" {Name} was confused as to why he was throwing all of these random trivia questions. Toshinori did have a reason for this. They entered the bedroom and Toshinori set {Name} on the bed..checking over to make sure they weren't injured from when they dropped the mugs earlier. There was another reason of course, mostly because the bedroom was the intermost room of the house and with the curtains drawn the lightening didn't seem so intimidating. {Name} wasn't exactly scared of the lightening, but the thunder that accompanied it, is what they dreaded... it was the forewarning.

💪Toshinori kept {Name} close, continously asking the most random of trivia questions, engaging in little brain games. It was because he wanted to take their mind off the thing that was scaring them. He would make them think of something and think of an answer, actively having to engage their brain elsewhere. But it helped to calm them down without even realizing it.

💪He never told them or made them aware of what he was doing mostly in the fears that they would finally catch onto what he was doing and their mind, now being conscious of it would rather focus on the thunder instead. He would smile, reassure and comfort his partner, distract them when it was necessary and just help them through the storm.

Dabi

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🌡{Name} waited at the usual meet up place, more apt to call it Dabi's home, or the thing closest to it. Being a villain didn't provide ample ways and means to get a decent house most of the time and thus made do with what they had. The dark clouds finally began their downpour, {Name} sat on the dusty couch looking at the various leaks in the roof. The wind blew against the cracked and rattling windows, and even so all of those didn't pose much concern. The biggest concern to {Name} was the violent thunder that practically roared all around, the empty and broken parts of the building seemed to echo and make it far worse. They grew too scared to simply sit around, they were cowering but didn't feel safe. They decided to try find a place to just help them cope with it.

🌡 Dabi heard the thunder, the rain and every other ambient noise there was living in such a place. He paid it no real mind, it was just background noise after all. While heading up, his mind drifted and wondered what {Name} was up to. Though when he pushed open the rickety door, it looked empty. Dabi wondered if he got the date for them meeting up wrong, another flash of thunder lit up the room, looking around he noticed what few shoes he owned were laying outside of the old wardrobe. When the thunder finally relented, Dabi could distinctly make out the sounds of crying.

🌡 Dabi took slow steps towards the wardrobe and opened it carefully. Inside he found the sight of {Name} sniffling and wiping away their tears and they looked up at him. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on. {Name}, evidently scared, trembling and practically jumping out of their skin with every crash of thunder. Somehow the scene was almost reminiscent of himself as a child. Hiding away in smaller spaces and crying because there was no one to comfort him.

🌡 Dabi walked over to the bed and ripped the blanket off without much effort, {Name} watched in an inquisitive manner, curious as to what Dabi was planning. He threw the blanket over {Name}, and very skillfully he picked them up and practically swaddled them in the blanket. With them in his arms, he sat in the wardrobe. {Name} was set into Dabi's lap, he threw an arm around their waist and kept them close.

🌡They were so surprised that they didn't even pay attention to the thunder outside. Dabi had his back against the wardrobe, and it was a relatively cramped space for two people. He tilted his head forward and rested it on {Name's} shoulder. Dabi didn't offer any comforting words nor any of his usual sarcastic and cynical commentary. He simple held them and snuggled into {Name} like an attention starved cat.

🌡This became the regular whenever there were storms. Of course they finally decided that no more squeezing into the tight wardrobe but rather they would snuggle up on the couch or the bed. {Name} approached the topic of the fear first, explaining why they were scared of the thunder. Dabi always comforted them without any of the superficial words that many used to comfort. Usually they didn't even do that. Besides the fear wasn't of something tangible, it wasn't something Dabi could hide or get rid of, so instead he accepted their fear and would just make sure they wouldn't go through it alone.

#BNHA #present mic #hawks #all might #dabi #trashytoastboi #gender neutral reader #gender neutral pronouns #gender neutral #yamada hizashi #keigo takami #takami keigo #yagi toshinori #touya todoroki #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #fluff #sfw #present mic x reader #hawks x reader #all might x reader #dabi x reader

[viviennevermillion]

Hey! Could I have prompt 4 with Cyno x reader pls? thx :3

Life After You

notes: this work is part of my 3k followers event! check out my pinned post for the event masterlist and further info. I also sincerely apologize to the people who requested first for doing these out of order but I gotta write what I'm inspired to atm or else I'll never get started. Also once again, feel free to check out my genshin discord :3

prompt: all that I'm after is a life full of laughter as long as I'm laughing with you, and I'm thinking that all that still matters is love ever after, after the life we've been through; 'cause I know there's no life after you

song these lyrics are from: life after you [daughtry]

contains: cyno x reader, fluff

warnings: none

"Two Shawarma Wraps please!", you smiled at Lambad as you paid for the food you had ordered. It wasn't hard to notice your good mood. After all, you had enough reason to smile, given that the man you loved was coming home from work earlier today and had promised to spend the rest of his day with his beloved. So since you still had some time to spare until Cyno would return, you had decided to get lunch for the two of you to surprise him.

It was a beautiful day, however, if you were honest, you didn't have any plans to leave the house again before the sun set. You were looking forward to just spend a day alone with Cyno, away from the prying eyes who recognized him as the General Mahamatra.

Just as you were fumbling with your keys at the entrance to the house you lived in, you felt two arms wrapping around your waist and a soft kiss on the back of your neck before Cyno nuzzled his face into your neck. "Ah, there you are already", you chuckled and turned around to properly greet your boyfriend with a kiss. "I missed you", Cyno said softly and kissed your cheek gently multiple times. You held up the packaged Shawarma Wraps. "I got us food", you exclaimed triumphantly. Cyno kissed your forehead and held up a finger. "Thank you, love. I got you something too", he seemed more excited than usual and started searching for something in his backpack.

He handed you a book. "It's the newest Genius Invokation TCG novel", he tried to say this calmly but you could see how he was internally ready to jump up and down like a teenage girl who had just gotten a text back from her crush, "they changed back to the original author so now there won't be any controversies regarding the main character fighting with a card that was never even in the game." You had heard him rant about this part of the story multiple times. He was always a little conflicted whether it was still within the rules of the game or not.

Cyno had introduced you to Genius Invokation TCG and he made it sound so interesting, that you agreed to read all the novels he was ready to lend to you and he had taught you how to play the game yourself. Now it was one of your favorite shared activities to engage in.

You remembered how Cyno had asked you for genuine feedback on whether you found his jokes funny. Knowing that he valued honesty, you told him that they weren't always funny, but that you still loved them and they still always lightened your mood. They made you at least chuckle most of the time, not because they were hilarious, but because telling unfunny jokes was so unapologetically Cyno that you couldn't help but feel happiness. You loved the man with all your heart, after all. You always encouraged him to keep making jokes, so he could never be mad that you didn't find them funny quite frequently.

You had followed up your statement with telling Cyno that you also just really enjoyed his voice. "A lot of your jokes sound more like you're telling a story", you remarked, "and quite frankly, you'd be a fantastic storyteller. I'd listen to you read the entire Genius Invokation TCG novel. Hell, I'd listen to you read me an overly specific instruction manual." Cyno had taken that a little too serious. Or rather, he saw this statement as a wonderful opportunity to tease you.

You had recently bought a very simple kitchen shelf that was built together in less than 15 minutes. Nevertheless, the instruction manual was overly complicated, written in 5 different languages and had 20 pages. And Cyno was determined to read all of them to you. You were sitting on the couch, trying to write while Cyno was reading the very detailed description of the process for building a small kitchen shelf. "Cyno, I'm trying to write Tighnari a birthday card, you're distracting me", you pouted as he leaned closer and whispered in your ear with a very serious voice. "Turn the screwdriver 20 times counter-clockwise-", was all he got out before you softly hit his face with a pillow but couldn't help but laugh. "You're impossible", you shook your head seeing that Cyno was laughing too. "Make sure that the board is fixed within the shelf frame before moving on to the next one...."

"Shut up", you grabbed his shoulders and shook him a little, "please...."

You chuckled before continuing with the birthday card. Cyno did fall silent. Instead he was now trailing kisses down your neck and then guided your chin so you'd face him. He kissed you passionately, pulling you into his lap. After the kiss you rolled your eyes at him. "Now I wrote 'I got you this Inazuma from flower. Happy Birth, Tighnari!'", you chucked another pillow at him, "look at what you've done. We're writing a new card and this time you'll be the one writing." "Fine by me", Cyno gave in and let out a soft chuckle before picking up the instruction manual again so you'd shut him up with another kiss. Cyno suggested you could simply add a joke to the card to distract from the mistakes you had made. "I would, but Tighnari would probably strangle both of us."

This was a side of him only you got to see and you felt blessed everytime he showed it to you, even though he was a tease sometimes. But this was how he had promised to read the new Genius Invokation TCG novel with you once it came out. You were looking forward to listening to his soothing voice and being snuggled up to his chest while listening to the story. You were just as excited about discussing the lore and story with him afterwards, coming up with theories for the next edition, which Cyno always loved to hear.

"What are you thinking about?", Cyno asked curiously, snapping you out of your memories as you opened the door. "Just remembered that time you read an instruction manual to me", you snickered. "I can do that again", he gave you a wink as you walked up the stairs.

After a moment of silence, Cyno raised his voice again. "I don't trust stairs. They're always up to something", he was already anticipating your reaction before you laughed at his joke. "Okay that one was actually good", you rewarded him with a kiss before entering your flat with him. "I got a laugh out of you! Win for me!", he proudly exclaimed as you put the Shawarma Wraps on the kitchen counter.

"The food smells amazing", Cyno remarked. "I know right?", you grinned and gave him fingerguns, "it's a meal you simply can't Cyno to." He stared at you for a second before the punchline dawned on him. "You get it, what makes this joke funny is a wordplay of the words 'say no' and your name-", you explained. Cyno was basically wheezing at this point. You grinned, imagining the reactions of the other matra if they saw him like this. "God, I love you", Cyno whispered and pulled you close, kissing you once again. He even let out another chuckle as he was kissing you. You buried a hand in his hair and wrapped the other around his waist, beginning to gently draw circles onto his back with your fingertips which made Cyno sigh into the kiss and melt into your embrace. His tongue circled around yours and his hand held your cheek as he poured all the love he felt for you into his kiss.

You parted from him with a smile on your face. "Cyno, the- mmph", your words were cut off by Cyno once again pressing his lips to yours. You kissed him back for half a minute before pushing him away gently. "The food is going to get cold", you chuckled, "man that joke really landed, huh?" "The archons blessed me with such a wonderful significant other with a fantastic sense of humor", he linked his fingers with yours on the kitchen table as you were getting ready to have lunch. "I'm sure plenty of people would disagree with that, Cyno", you laughed before enjoying your Shawarma Wrap with him in silence.

The first time Cyno heard you make a dad joke was probably the moment he fell for you. It was your very first Genius Invokation TCG game night with Tighnari, Cyno and Kaveh and the four of you had dinner together before playing the game. Tighnari had talked about how legends said, that sometimes due to the Dendro Archons power, when someone in Sumeru was suffering, the forest would be there to comfort them. "The plants in the Apam Woods have actually been shown to respond to their surroundings, including the emotions of peop- y/n what are you laughing about?", Tighnari raised his eyebrows at you snickering across the table, "what's so funny?"

It took you a while to catch your breath before you whispered under your breath: "Oh my god....they photosympathize...."

It was the first time you heard Cyno laugh. Not a polite chuckle, like he usually let out when he was amused, but the General Mahamatra straight up snorted and started wheezing next to you while Tighnari was shaking his head in disappointment. "Out. Both of you. Get out of my house", Tighnari joked and buried his head in his hands. But you hardly registered that, as you were too busy staring at the man next to you, noticing how his laugh was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. Feeling the urge to make him smile everytime you saw him. Up until now, none of that had ever faded. Your love for him only grew with every day you spent with him.

"I love you so much", you told him and put your hand over his after you had finished your Shawarma Wrap. "There's Tahini sauce all over your hands", Cyno commented dryly pulling his hand away to wash it. "It was a gift", you mused and followed him. "Wonderful. I feel so blessed", he replied sarcastically, pulling you back into his arms after you had washed the sauce off your own hands.

You cupped his face with one hand and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?", you smiled at him. "You tell me everyday", he reminded you, but it was evident that it still made him a little flustered, "I believe we have a novel to read." He got a big blanket from the drawer and wrapped it around the two of you as you were sitting on the couch and you were leaning against his chest, closing your eyes as his fingers gently ran up and down your back.

Cyno began reading the new Genius Invokation TCG novel to you and you loved how soft his voice sounded. Occasionally, you would interrupt to discuss several important plot points and express your feelings about the story.

"I can't believe they just killed this character off that early in the story", Cyno was baffled. "I'm an emotional mess", you hid your face in Cyno's neck and he gave you a headpat. "Shh, I'm sure they'll avenge him. Also there's still a chance he might come back with the super rare revival card."

You got through about a quarter of the novel before tiredness settled in and Cyno noticed you slowly falling asleep in his arms. He put the book down and wrapped both of his arms around you, pressing multiple gentle kisses to your forehead. Well, he thought to himself, we can always continue reading the novel some other time.

After all, you had a whole life to share.

#genshin impact #cyno x reader #cyno x you #cyno x y/n #genshin cyno #cyno #genshin impact cyno