#like the point of my post about Content was to say

[tkaulitzlvr]

REGRET - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: when a video of tom getting a little too close to another girl circulates around the internet, your confrontation sparks a heated argument between the two of you. but after tom says something in the heat of the moment, he is determined to make it up to you.

content: angst

a/n: i have risen from the dead🎀 i’m really rusty so if it‘s not up to scratch i’m sorry, ill post about why i’ve not been writing later but for now enjoy whatever this is🗣️

my eyes are glued to the small computer screen in front of me, face twisting in disgust just a little more every time the low quality video replays. it is almost nauseating, yet i can’t turn away, fixated until my features are scrunched up in an agitating mix of anger and confusion. i am hoping that the events will change the next time the video restarts, that maybe my eyes are deceiving me, but as the same scene plays out in front of me, i quickly realise that it is real, and that my worst nightmare is coming true. not much can be distinguished - whoever had taken the video clearly hadn't payed much attention to keeping their camera still, or investing in the most high-tech gear, but i can tell that it is him. his dirty blonde dreads fall just below his shoulders, hand clutching a drink, surrounded by a crowd of girls whilst flashing lights illuminate his figure every few seconds, lighting up the bustling club before returning it to darkness. he knows that he is the centre of attention, but that doesn't seem to matter to him, his focus on the small blonde to his right.

much to my frustration, the video is only a few seconds long, showing tom leaning into the girl's ear, whispering something before pulling back, a smirk etched upon both their faces. it quickly cuts off just as his hand brushes along her arm, leaving much to be imagined - far too much. though this is probably for the best, watching another second of my boyfriend touching another girl would probably drive me close to insane - if i haven't already reached that point. i can't tell when the video was taken, but it is clearly recent, most likely from one of his tour after parties. he had arrived home last week, and i had been naive enough to miss him - until now.

i hurriedly rush to turn the computer off, sure that i will throw up if i have to watch that video one more time, its existence torture for me as i question how to go about this. tom is totally oblivious, having left for the studio this morning. however as each second passes, i realise that he will be home any minute, long before the anger that courses through my veins has any chance of burning out. my jaw is clenched, breathing heavy and eyes bloodshot as they fight tears, focusing on the blank wall ahead in an attempt to hold them back. the silence is peaceful, an almost laughable contrast to the chaos that echoes within my mind, thousands of unanswered questions racing through it as i am just about ready to pack my bags and never come back, sure that i have seen enough - and the only explanation is that tom has cheated on me.

but when the front door opens, i am trapped, any plans of escaping now far out of reach as tom's soft voice sounds from downstairs.

"baby? i'm home, where are you?" he almost sounds excited to see me, and on any other day, my heart would melt. but today, it twists with dread, feeling as if it has been ripped out of my chest and stepped on. i stay put, maybe because i know the capabilities of my mind, and its tendency to place me in uncomfortable situations, or perhaps it is the nagging in my chest convincing me to delay any conversation with him for as long as is physically possible.

the realisation that i can't avoid him forever comes much faster than i had anticipated. the dull thud of his footsteps trudging up the stairs are enough to capture my attention and pull me out of whatever trance i am subject to. my back falls back against the bed, shoulders slacking with the intent of looking as relaxed as possible, even if the current situation is the exact opposite. i wince when his presence makes itself known, attempting to conceal the uneasy look settling across my face.

"schatz, there you are." there’s no ill intent in his voice. infact it is sickly sweet, laced with an all-too innocent sense of security that on any other day would gravitate me towards him. this part of his day, when he would trudge into bed tiredly, was reserved just for me, for us, and it was something that we both looked forward to. but now it has fizzled out on my end, an excruciating discomfort habituating in its place, becoming harder to ignore with each passing second. the seemingly rigid walls into tom’s heart visibly crumble as he lets his guard down, his tired frame sinking into the soft mattress.

he leans his head against my arm, the limb tensing slightly in response to his touch. it feels wrong. how many other women felt him this close? the thought alone brings a sharp stab to my chest, its non-existent blade twisting within at the almost sickening idea of the same hands touching anybody else. with difficulty, i lift my arm up, heaving it to rest loosely across my torso. from the rigidness of my movement, tom senses that something isn’t right. whether it be impulse or a craving to feel me against him, he readjusts himself, grasping at any opportunity to weave himself even closer, my stiff demeanour offering him the upper hand.

the concept of control seems completely out of grasp now. although unaware, tom tears every remnant of serenity from my still frame, forcing me to follow his gaze and finally look into those eyes. his lips tug into a soft smile at the eye contact, pointer finger aimlessly grazing my lips. though emotionless, he appears to miss the look on my face, far too occupied with his own desires, no matter how light-hearted they seem.

“you have no idea how much i’ve missed you.” he mumbles against me, but when i dodge the kiss that he tries to place on my cheek, he finally pulls himself out of his selfish trance and realises that things aren’t as perfect as he had thought.

"hey, give me a kiss." his voice boarders the waters of hurt and confused, eyebrow furrowed with his eyes scanning my own desperately. when i don’t respond, he misjudges my silence for compliance, leaning downward to plant a soft kiss onto my lips. i don't reciprocate, remaining motionless, eyes wide open as he wraps his arms around me. he presses his lips harsher onto mine, desperation the clear motivator of his hurried movements. it quickly fades into concern when he realises the still lips that his own try to move against. breaking apart and surrendering his desire, he finally captures the hurt etched upon my expression, eyes trailing off into the blank wall behind him. he remains on top of me, his hand reaching to cup my cheek gently, the touch providing the exact opposite of consolation - instead allowing the bitter taste of resentment to settle along my tastebuds in place of his tender kiss. another woman felt those hands against her.

"look at me. what's wrong? did i do something?" his eyes scan mine desperately, feverishly attempting to fathom reasoning for my sudden standoffishness, all whilst his thumb rubs slow and soft circles along my cheek, an action which doesn't go unnoticed.

"did you think i wouldn't find out?" my jaw clenches, eyes narrowing as i finally push his body away. his confusion only intensifies as he collects himself as quickly as he can, scrambling to stand up and reduce our distance once again. his figure towers over mine, clearly failing to grasp the hint that i practically throw at him. if my actions aren’t able to spell it out for him, my words make what i want crystal clear.

“don’t touch me.”

though subtle, i notice the way he winces at my words, choosing to let them go for the time being. "what? baby what are you talking about? find out about what?" his chest rises up and down, expression totally readable, so much that i can sense his every thought, and it is terrifying. each second of silence thickens the already heavy air, so much that a heaviness begins to set in my chest.

i say nothing, instead walking toward the computer and switching it on. the screen lights up, the all too familiar video resuming from the point that i had left it. i grit my teeth, tempted to punch the screen and tom, both ideas becoming increasingly appealing. i turn to face him, remaining calm in spite of all brutal urges screaming out from within me, deciding to put them to bed.

"see for yourself. i'm sure you'd love a reminder of your little fling. she's very pretty, i'll give you that." his mouth opens to say something, quickly shutting with the realisation that he doesn’t have any words - none that would make the situation any better, anyway.

"shit, the paparazzi." he mumbles under his breath, massaging his temples a couple times before shutting the computer off, his eyes darkened as an unrecognisable look takes over. “schatz that isn't what it looks like, i promise you-"

"really? so i haven't just witnessed by boyfriend cheat on me with some blonde whore? you tell me you missed me? you seem to have got on swell without me.” my instinctive sarcasm soon burns out, replaced with an unexpected sadness, one that makes it next to impossible to remain composed.

"jesus christ. i wouldn't ever cheat on you. i don't even know who she is, georg said that he knew her so we let her hang out with us for the night. nothing happened, nothing at all. i love you and only you." he begins to get more defensive, voice raising slightly as he tries once again to move closer to me, an effort that even he knows is futile.

"what so you whisper in everyone's ear like that? you touch everyone's arm like that? you smile at everyone like that? i’m not as stupid as the whores you take to bed.” his excuses are almost laughable, and if my heart didn't feel so heavy with the realisation that he hasn't stayed faithful, i would probably laugh. my composure is deceptive, this soon coming to light with the coming of tears along my waterline.

"no, baby, please don't cry." he starts, protective instincts taking over in spit of the situation, his own eyes becoming glassy. when i shoot him a glare he knows to step back, though it is clear he wants nothing more than consoling me, as he usually would. now it is different, when he is the fuse that ignites this entirely fucked up situations "look, that's the only time i spoke to her the whole night. we were making a joke about georg, that's all."

"you must be kidding." my brows raise, searching his eyes for any hint of amusement, quickly understanding that he is being completely serious, this realisation only angering me more. “you know what? i’m leaving.” i attempt to move past him, struggling to progress even a few steps forward when he grabs my wrist, pulling me back in front of him. he is far too strong for me to put up a proper fight, but that doesn't stop me from trying my body tenses as i pull back, his grip only tightening, proving my efforts as worthless.

"can you just listen to me? i get that it looks bad but you're really overreacting here. Ive told you that nothing happened, why can't you just trust me?" he is no longer sympathetic. instead, his voice holds an anger within it that takes me aback slightly, his change in persona almost frightening. though his sudden defensiveness only alerts my suspicions more, silently reaffirming the fact that he has cheated, even if his words tell otherwise.

"trust you? fucking trust you? i have trusted you! and look where its gotten me. do you know how hard it is to have your boyfriend leave for months? no contact besides from a ten minute call every day, not a kiss, a hug, nothing! and this is what i see from your tour. what the fuck am i supposed to do with that?" i raise my voice, its harshness mirroring tom's as i finally manage to writhe myself out of his grip, now standing a few feet away from him. he clenches his jaw, looking to the side as silence takes over, its presence only brief however, soon destroyed by the sound of his voice, far louder than it had been through the course of the argument.

"i'm sorry that i don't have a normal career, okay? i've told you so many times that i don't have eyes for anyone else. every single night on tour i go back to the hotel early, because i miss you! and you can't even trust me!" he stops suddenly, almost as if he is contemplating his next words, enduring a silent battle between his mouth and his heart, knowing that both are leading him in different directions. i wait for his response, noticing the way that his expression darkens, eyes refusing to meet my own.

"well? that's all you have to fucking say? you seemed pretty comfortable with her. do you know how much that hurts? why am i not good enough for you?"

"stop it. you know you're good enough for me. don't say shit like that." he is quick to cut me off, his voice laced with disbelief, clearly failing to understand how i could come to such a conclusion.

"do i? seeing shit like that pretty much reminds me why i'm not-"

"look, maybe if you weren't such an insecure bitch then this wouldn't be a problem!" my face drops, lips parting slightly as i pray that my ears deceive me, creating their own truth, one distorted and far from reality. i stay silent, far too astounded to produce any witty comeback, or even look into his eyes. the silence between us is louder than any words spoken, and even more painful than those left unsaid. when i quickly take a glance at him, he realises his mistake just as fast as he had spoken. regret flashes across his face, his expression softening as he walks toward me. i nod slowly, far too defeated to argue back, wrapping my arms around my small frame and walking past him, my entire body shaking slightly as i sob.

"fuck- i didn't mean that. i'm so sorry, god i'm sorry baby." he spews out incoherent apologies, though i am far too hurt to comprehend them, instead tuning them out as i walk out of the room, closing the door harshly behind me.

it doesn’t take long for him to follow, his hurried pleas sounding from behind me. i am far too angry to listen, rushing down the stairs and into the hallway, scrambling for the nearest pair of shoes that i can find. his rambling quickly turns from frantic to desperate when he picks up on the reality of the situation, soon understanding that we are far beyond a kiss and an apology to resolve this.

“wait, hold on schatz. can we please talk about this? don’t leave me, please. i love you so much.” he tries to conceal the small sob that escapes his lips, but i notice it, the almost inaudible sound enough to make me reconsider my choices. but when his arm wraps around my wrist, though not with enough pressure to hurt, i know that forgiving him would be stupid.

“let go of me. i’m leaving for a while. do whatever you want, i don’t care.” my voice is surprisingly calm, the coarseness within it somehow washing away with each shallow breath i take. but the softness of my tone doesn’t match the strength of my movements as i yank myself from his grasp, reaching for my keys and clutching the door handle before he can stop me. i hesitate for a moment, taking a second to look back at him as he continues to spew out his apologies, mixed with incoherent promises that he loves me, along with his own tears that begin to fall from his eyes.

“bye tom.”

please come home, i’m so sorry - 8:35pm

baby? - 8:35pm

i love you so much - 8:36pm

i promise i didn’t cheat - 8:36pm

can we talk about this? - 8:37pm

please tell me you’re safe - 8:39pm

sure, tom and i had arguments just as every couple did. but when i showed up at my best friend’s house, makeup smudged and eyes bloodshot, she knew that this one was more than just a disagreement on who’s turn it was to make dinner. it was obvious that she had questions, but my delirious state was enough of a motive to save those for another time, instead choosing to rush me inside and wrap me up in blankets on her small couch, insisting that we order takeout and watch movies until i calmed down.

“he’s still texting you?” she questions, referring to my phone vibrating yet again, as it had been for the past hour. i nod my head weakly, body sprawled across her couch, shuffling over to make room for the small brunette beside me. she offers a sympathetic smile, handing me a pint of ice cream and sinking into the cushions.

“i’m sorry.” she says, reaching over and pulling me into a hug, noticing the glassy sheet that forms over my eyes, squeezing me even tighter. “boys are assholes.”

i nod in agreement, hearing my phone vibrate once again, this time not even taking the time to look at the message. they had gotten pretty predictable as they became more frequent - either telling me that he loves me, or that he wants me to come home.

“you’re welcome here as long as you need, okay?” she fills in the silence, recognising that all i need is consolation right now, creating a conversation not on the top of my list of priorities. i mutter a small thank you, feeling my eyes becoming heavy.

the beginning of a new day somehow intensifies the feeling within the pit of my stomach, the exact opposite of what i expected from a fresh start. now that i have settled down, the reality of it all feels like a fresh wound, one that i can’t envision myself ever healing from. though any time to endeavour into the complex puzzle of my emotions is drowned out by the all too familiar sound of my phone vibrating, and this time i have lost every ounce of self-control, reaching over to the small device embarrassingly fast. the bright light emitting from the screen causes my eyes to squint as i adjust, vision slowly clearing to reveal at least a hundred unread text messages, each one from tom. my sympathetic nature gets the better of me, a wave of guilt taking over as his messages spring from concerned, to apologetic, to borderline insane at my disappearance. i groan internally, quickly realising that i can’t hide forever, no matter how much i convince myself that it is the safer option.

luckily the task of getting myself ready to go back home isn’t a particularly long one. my jeans begin to dig into my sides, a rather unpleasant yet convenient reminder that i am still wearing the same clothes as the day before. quiet snores from the bedroom alert me to sleeping body of my friend, a small chuckle leaving my lips at the sound. i decide against disturbing her, instead scribbling a messy note and sticking it on the fridge, hoping that she’ll understand.

- going back home, thank you for all ur help. i’ll keep you updated, love you

the house is silent as i enter it, the lack of noise almost eerie though short lived when i place my keys on the table, the metal clattering with a small thud. there is no sign of tom, not even the sound of a tv from the living room, or the quiet sizzle of fresh food, indicating that he is making breakfast as he would every morning. though it seems that i hadn’t entered as quietly as i had hoped, the sound of tom’s steps, quick and erratic, echoing from the kitchen, getting louder and louder until he is standing in front of me.

our distance is temporary, quickly diminished as he takes me into his arms, pressing his lips against mine with as much strength as he can muster. i only realise just how anxious he has been when his palms cup my cheeks. they are shaking, the skin cold against my own as his entire body begins to tremble, my stomach sinking. he is crying. in spite of his vulnerability, he is the first to pull away, firmly wrapping his arms around my frame and hugging me tightly.

“god i love you, i love you so much. i thought you weren’t coming back.” he struggles to get his words out, a mixture of incoherent sobs and quiet sniffles accompanying his speech. his grip only tightens, hands running up and down my back as he repeatedly kisses my hair, tears continuing to fall down his cheeks. my arms remain firmly by my side, sympathetic enough to allow him this small touch, yet no where near as forgiving to consider returning the act.

“are you okay?” he becomes worried, putting his emotions aside and finally separating his body from mine. his calloused fingers run over the smooth skin of my arms, looking for any sign of harm. even though he knows me well enough to guess that i had gone somewhere safe, his protective instincts kick in, convincing him that the worst has happened.

“i’m fine.” i mumble, releasing myself from his grip and walking into the kitchen, taking a glass and pouring myself some water, my throat dry from the strain on my voice from the night before. he quickly follows behind, taking my hand in his. he notices my hesitation, running a thumb over the back of my hand in an attempt to soothe me, and somehow, it works. seeing him in front of me brings back memories of last night, their sting still painful and effects strong with the irritating onset of tears. tom sees this just as fast as i do, reaching upward to wipe them before they are able to fall.

“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry beautiful.” he whispers, his touch so gentle i almost don’t feel it. he replaces his thumb with his lips, kissing just below my eyes, damp with evidence of my upset.

“how could you?” i mumble, voice barely above a whisper as i struggle to make eye contact, tom’s own gaze pained. his eyes are bloodshot, cheeks red and blotchy and entire body still trembling slightly. his face softens at my question, and silence takes over for a few moments.

“i know. i know how it looks. i shouldn’t have gotten so close to her, not when i have you. but i promise you that i didn’t cheat. you’re everything i want and i’d be an idiot to throw that away. you have to believe me baby.” his voice begins to break, thumb running across my cheek and eyes staring into mine, scanning desperately for any sign that i am convinced. it isn’t the most detailed nor thought out explanation, but i know him enough to see that he is telling the truth.

“okay.” i nod my head and look to the floor, swallowing harshly in an attempt to calm my shallow breathing. his fingers come underneath my chin, gently pulling it upward so that i am facing him again. the pain is still there, regret etched upon his expression as seeing the woman he loves in such a state hurts him just as much as me leaving. he takes me in his arms, lifting me up and gently kissing me again. this time i reciprocate, a small sob leaving his lips as he recognises this, his hold on me only getting tighter. the previous lack of contact had affected more than i had realised, the small reassurance of my kiss enough to crumble his usually calm temperament.

“i love you.” he whispers against me, his lips bitter with the taste of tears. that doesn’t matter to me. pressing my mouth to his as harshly as i can, my arms wrap around his neck, bringing him in even closer. he holds me so tightly, like i may slip away, the fear of losing me all too real. my small hands cup his cheeks, attempting to deepen the kiss, though doing so unsuccessfully as his voice vibrates against me. he sounds broken, his request coming out as a desperate plea, cut off by a short sob. “please say it back. you haven’t this whole time and i-”

“i love you too.” i mumble against his lips. he holds me even tighter, something which i didn’t think was possible. but considering the realms of possibility is an activity for another day. i have no time to consider anything as he kisses me once again, his touch addictive, and more than enough to make me forget everything.

#tokiohotel #tomkaulitz #tom kaulitz x reader #kaulitz twins #tom kaulitz #kaulitz #bill kaulitz #tom kaulitz fluff #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz angst

[kolsmikaelson]

— PATRICK ZWEIG NSFW ALPHABET

NOTES — obsessed with him <3 need more gifs of him too

WARNINGS — 18 + content mdni, not proofread

join my taglist or follow @rodrickhefley to see when i post

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

he’s sweet, no matter where you are he’ll make sure to clean you up and he’ll always make sure to get you water. he’ll do anything you ask of him really. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

his thighs are his favorite. he loves the way that you love them. he also really likes his arms too. your hands are his favorite, he loves the way they wrap around his cock or the way they tug at his hair when his head is buried in between your thighs. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) 

loves cumming in your ass, there’s something about the extra tightness that gets him everytime. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

fantasizes about he and art fucking you. he and art had messed around, a lot, when they were younger and still doing challengers together and even now that he’s found you, he still misses those times and would love to have art join you two. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

pretty experienced. he definitely knows what he’s doing and how to figure out how to get you going. 

F = Favorite position (goes without saying)

he loves when you’re on top, riding him. he loves the view of your tits bouncing in his face and how he has the ability to kiss or nip at them at any point. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

i think it goes back and forth. let’s say, he’d gotten jealous because some guy was hitting on you, he’ll take you back to your place and fuck you till you know you’re his, but other times it’ll be soft and silly and unserious, you’re just a mess of limbs tangling together. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

i think he keeps it trimmed, so that it’s not too much out of control. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

so romantic. sometimes with how hard or rough he goes it’s harder to tell how romantic it is, but there's always those telltale signs such as him always making sure you get off before him, usually before he’s even fucked you, unless you’re both too needy to wait, but even then he’ll still make sure you cum at least once. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

not huge on it anymore now that he’s older, but if he’s out of town for a game and you weren’t able to come with he’ll resort to that in the middle of the night when he’s missing you. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

spit kink, praise kink (receiving), choking, he loves shoving his fingers in your mouth if you’re being too loud. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

his car. doesn’t matter if you’ve pulled over and are on the side of the road or safely parked in your garage, doesn’t matter he’s obsessed. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

winning. the more he wins the more pumped up he is, and seeing how proud you are each time he wins really gets him going. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

no piss kink (or any other bodily fluids excluding spit and cum), and nothing that’d put you in any real danger, sure he likes choking but in intervals, he makes sure it never lasts too long. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he’s a god at giving head. he’s so good at it and he knows it. i don’t think he prefers it either way, you’d both keep it pretty even in giving and receiving.  

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

depends on the situation! sometimes he’ll have a rough time and go slow and sensual other times he’d fucking into you like a jackhammer. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

sometimes (before a match) it’s all you have time for so he’s definitely not against them, but he does love taking his time with you

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

to a certain degree. but he’d likely try anything once as long as his partner was sure they wanted it too. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he can usually last 2-3 rounds before taking a break until you’re ready again and he can go for a couple more. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

oh yes. once you’ve moved in together he’s got a drawer in the nightstand full of different toys. he’s got a fleshlight, rarely uses it though because why would he when he has you right next to him <33. but he’s got different vibes and dildos to use on you as well. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

biggest fucking tease ever. will edge you till you’re on the brink of tears just to stop touching you and rip your orgasm away from you. but he’ll whine like a bitch in heat if you try to tease him back. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

not super loud but not super quiet. he makes sure you’re aware he’s loving what you’re doing. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

definitely asks you about art, trying to feel out what you’d think about having a threesome, eventually going as far as to ask what you’d think about adding him into your relationship (you agree because in the time you’ve known him you’ve fallen for him the way you did for patrick.)

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

decently big, i’d give him 5/6 inches soft, and he’s thick as fuck too. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

pretty high. he feels that sex is the best way he’s capable of showing his love, he’s not the best with his words. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he passes out as soon as he’s done cleaning you up and getting you some water. the moment his head hits the pillow and has you wrapped up in his arms again he’s done for. 

© kolsmikaelson : please do not copy, repost, or modify any of my content.

#◜ caitee’𝗌 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌 ✎ ˚✧ ꜝ #challengers #patrick zweig #challengers x reader #challengers imagine #challengers smut #challengers x you #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig imagine #patrick zweig smut #patrick zweig x you #josh o’connor #josh o’connor x reader #josh o’connor smut

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 13

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

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

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

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

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: Ahhh! I almost own a house.

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

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

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The queen struts down the hall, the white satin limning her figure. She is shameless as she passes soldiers but she needn’t worry for their judgments. You peek up at the few errant eyes that follow her, though many pass without even a glance in her direction. Servants course through the corridors, busy with preparations for the morrow’s departure. 

You think of asking Queen Jazlene whether now is not the best time. If she should be more concerned with her venture north. Of all she’s acquired of the queen’s former possessions, there is not a fur among her chests. Nothing more than a trim of squirrel or rabbit along a collar. The summer kingdom does not warrant the need. And certainly, you think, the king must be equally busied by the pending journey. 

As ever, your duty keeps you silent. You do not know better than a queen. You bide her whims, not your own. You follow the soft whisk of the robes hem and your mind wanders in your stead. You think of the dark gardens and the king’s words. 

‘Should I remain any longer, I might give it all up.’ He must be eager to return home. You can’t help but harbour your own impatience. For all you’ve heard of the Hinterlands, you cannot picture them well. You want to see them yourself. It is the only time in your life you really ever longed to see something entirely unfamiliar. 

The queen stops and the soldiers on either side of the door shift, alert at her approach. The do not look welcoming. You wring your hands behind your back. What can you do but let the queen proceed? 

“Let me through,” she demands, “I must see the king.” 

“Your highness,” the rusty-haired soldier drawls, “he is not receiving--” 

“He is my husband,” she sneers, “I am the queen.” She points to herself, “I give you orders, sir. Not the reverse.” 

The other man huffs and tilts his head to the other as if to say, ‘don’t bother’. The first soldier raises his elbow to hit the door beside him. 

“Your highness, you have a visitor,” he calls through. 

“A visitor?” Jazlene scoffs and steps forward, grabbing the handles of the doors to try to force her way through. “I am more--” She shakes the doors as they offer resistance from the other side. You can see clearly through the crack between them that they are latched within. 

The metal grinds inside as the lock is slid out of place. The queen blusters through as a dark-haired man stands by the left door, watching behind her as she blows in like a storm. You pause in the doorway, uncertain if you should go further. 

The king sits at the table of his receiving chamber, maps unfurled and kept unrolled by heavy ornaments. He has one arm on the chair and his other hand against the tabletop. He watches his wife with his golden eyes, his lips straight and unamused. The man who opened the door, watches with a crooked grin. 

“Husband, I have come to see you. As we have much travel ahead, I figured it was the best time for us to--” 

“The best time?” King Geralt ponders flatly, “we ready for the ride north. We must anticipate the remaining rebels and assuage lingering acrimony. We must also account for the snows that will meet us in the Hinterland. This campaign has kept me long and the winter will be there to greet us.” 

“Let the servants trouble for it,” she insists. 

The man by the door flutters his fingers at you, “in?” He mouths. 

You blink, uncertain. You step inside hesitantly and step to the edge of the other door. He pushes the left one shut and turns to watch the interaction with glee. 

“You should trouble for it,” the king reproaches, “you should act as queen and so you should think of your people.” 

“Husband, do not presume to educate me. I have had tutors all my life. I understand these things. I was borne to be a lady, to mind a castle--” 

“A castle not a realm,” he shakes his head, “this is no banquet.” 

“Ugh,” she huffs, “what has gotten into you? Last night--” 

“It is today,” he insists over her, “I am occupied.” He shifts his chair pointed and frames an area on the maps with his large hands. “Jaskier,” he calls, “come, we must determine our way through Hare’s Pass.” 

“Your highness,” the man jaunts forward bouncily and as he nears the table, he pulls out a chair, “Queen Jazlene, please, have my seat.” 

The king looks at his companion with a deathly glimmer. The lord in his cornflower jacket is unbothered by the distaste aimed in his direction. He smirks back defiantly. 

“Thank you, sir,” Jazlene simpers and sits with her back straight and her chest pushed out, “I think I’ve forgotten which one you are.” 

“Lord Jaskier,” he intones, “I held the capital while the king claimed his beautiful wife.” 

She giggles and runs her hand along the front of her robe, “oh, how valiant, sir.” 

“Jaskier,” the king growls again, “put your mind back to the road--” 

“We have it figured, your highness,” the lord rebuffs, “surely you should enjoy this time you have in one place with your wife.” Jaskier takes another stool and sits at the table, “I should very much like to know this summer queen better. You secret her away--” 

The king sighs. His fingers tap in irritation on the table. He sits back and throws his hand up. 

“I see you are no help, as usual,” the king snips. 

“And you are tedious,” the lord smirks again. “My queen,” the man sits forward, his attention on Jazlene, “I traveled the summer lands once before. You see, I fancy myself a musician and as a young boy, I would play for the courts. I never ventured to Debray but I was at Harlowe. It is closeby.” 

“I know Harlowe,” Jazlene brightens, forgetting her mission for talk of herself. “Yes, I went there often for their harvest fairs. Were you there when Lord Edmund was still alive?” 

“Ah, yes, I believe he wasn’t there long after I left for the next county,” Jaskier artfully feeds her self-importance. 

“He was a good man. Of the few my father respected,” she mourns with her hand to her chest. She shakes her head and pauses with a sullen sigh, “maid,” she snaps her head up, “bring wine for us.” 

“No wine,” King Geralt counters swiftly. 

“We have a guest, husband, surely we should entertain him according to etiquette. In these summer lands, we offer sustenance to our guests,” she argues. 

“Bring warm milk then. You needn’t be glazed over with wine on the morrow--” 

“I am the queen and I am grown, I will have wine,” Jazlene waves her hand at you tersely, “maid!” 

The king glances at you. You stand in indecision. You can defy neither but in that moment, you must choose one or the other. His golden eyes drift over to the queen and back to you. 

“Go, fetch wine,” he relents. 

You bow your head and spin to set off on the task. Your thankful to escape the tension that floods the room. You can sense that the queen’s intrusion is unwelcome and yet that lord ignores the king’s mood. Almost as if he means to agitate him. 

You weave through the disarray of the corridors down to the kitchen. Barrels of pickled foods and crates of dried goods are stacked, waiting to be loaded onto carts for the distance ahead. The king must still think of feeding his army, and now, a royal retinue. 

You claim a bottle of wine amid the hectic furor and some goblets. You’re out of breath as you return to the upper floors and slow yourself to regain composure as you approach the king’s chamber. You’re let within without obstruction. Just the maid. 

You cross to the table and set the goblets upright, then the heavy bottle. Jazlene ahems and taps the brim impatient before you can uncork the bottle. The neck moves away from your reach as Lord Jaskier snatches it instead. He opens it easily and pours the queen a cup as the king leans heavily on an elbow. As you glance over, you meet his golden eyes and quickly shy away. You see he is not happy. You thought by Jazlene’s measure, thing’s might have been improving. 

You take your place by the wall. The king sighs. He does that a lot, as if he means to say something but will not. Lord Jaskier slides a goblet towards him. 

“Drink and let loose, your highness, you can’t be surly upon the road,” Jaskier chides. 

The king does not move. He glares at his company then looks at the ceiling. Queen Jazlene slurps loudly. 

“How charming you are, my lord, a wonder his highness likes you so much,” she chirps. 

“A surprise to me as well but I think my loyalty more tolerable than my other traits. Yet, you’ve yet to the king bellowing the most bawdy ballad. He is particular lively after a battle,” Jaskier winks at his liege tauntingly and receives nothing in return. “Mm, how about a game? The king is fond of those. How about it, then?” 

The lord lifts his cup and holds it before his lips, watching the king in his cantankerous glower. Another sigh as he sits forwards and tilts a hand indifferently.  

“If it keeps you from chattering,” the king mutters as he clears the heavy ornaments and rolls the map up. He focuses on that as Jaskier pulls a pouch free of his belt. 

“This is one he taught me. The old king before him was fond of it too. The mind’s of rulers, hm?” Jaskier explains as he loosens the tie of the bag and pours out similar pieces to the ones in Geralt’s purse. “Have you played it?” 

Jazlene keeps her hand on her cup. The king continues to clear the table, pushing aside the cup meant for him as he shifts the bottle off another map. He stands and gathers the rolled parchment. He approaches you. 

“Bring these to my bedchamber,” he bids under his breath. 

As you take them, your sleeves brush his and his fingers drag along the fabric of your dress. He stares down at you, his breath fuming like a hearth. You hug the maps and he backs away, returning to the table. You take your order and find your way through the east door into his bed chamber. 

You set down the maps on the chest near the foot of the grand bed. His sword leans against the frame, tall in its sheath. You stop to admire the thick handle and its well-hewn grooves. It must be heavy. 

You tear your admiration from the weapon and return to the receiving chamber. Jaskier reviews the rules as Geralt rolls his fingers against the armrest, bored by the explanation. You resume your vigil and stare at the wall. 

Pieces are dolled out, dice are counted, and the round begins. The king is let to have the first turn. He plays the same as he did against you. It must be some strategy. The queen is prompted to have her go but she is silent. She hums and stares down at the table. Jaskier whispers behind his hand, drawing your gaze. 

“Let her play her own turn,” the king insists, “isn’t any fun playing against two of you.” 

“Your highness, I was only doing my duty as a royal advisor,” Jaskier returns playfully. “By all means, my beautiful queen, I am certain you are as a clever as you are elegant.” 

Jazlene preens in the praise. She drinks some more wine then rolls a dice, seemingly without thought. Several of her pieces are plucked up by both king and lord. She pouts. 

“Wait, what happened?” She mopes. 

“Rules,” Geralt grumbles. “Jaskier, go on then, take my bronze.” 

“I know your tricks,” the lord replies, “I will not fall for it. I’ll have your silver.” 

Jaskier rolls the diamond dice and groans. The king takes his silver instead. 

“You’ve switched out the dice, certainly,” Jaskier accuses. 

“You whine about chance,” the king rebukes and rolls, taking even more silver from his advisor. “And again.” 

He gestures to Jazlene and her brow ripples. You can see she doesn’t understand. She will want to use the square dice then, she might have the iron back that she lost. She uses the slightly rounded die instead. Jaskier is already counting her gold. 

“I don’t understand,” she crosses her arms, “this game makes no sense.” 

“It is your first attempt,” Jaskier assures her, “you will get better.” 

“It’s boring,” she sits back and drinks more wine. 

Jaskier has a swig of his own as he rolls. He claims his silver back from the king and some from Jazlene. She shakes her head and waves you over with her hand. You can see her goblet is empty as you near. You lift the bottle to pour as the king has his turn. He loses a few iron but doesn’t seem to mind. 

The queen’s turn comes and you linger, examining her pieces. Your lips move slightly. Square, square, square. Your eyes flit up and find the king’s watching you. Oh no. 

“Wine, maid,” Jaskier clunks down his cup with a hollow noise. 

You move around Jazlene’s chair as she snarls under her breath. She rolls the triangle die. Her gold is all gone. She slaps her hands down and you rescind the bottle before you can pour as Jaskier’s cup wobbles. He laughs at the queen’s dismay and she sweeps away her pieces and dice before she can lose. 

“It isn’t fair! I don’t understand.” 

“If you don’t understand, ask. Do not be impetulant,” King Geralt reprimands. “You make a mess like a child.” 

“Do not speak to me as one,” she spits back. “I am not!” 

“Your behaviour would suggest otherwise,” the king says. 

“Now, now, perhaps it would be fairer with a forth, eh? Trios always do prove imbalanced,” Jaskier intones.  

As you go to pour the wine, you are suddenly pulled off your feet. You land in his lap and nearly drop the bottle. You hug it close as you notice the king lurch, sitting straight, only to stop himself on the edge of his chair. 

“Eh, do not handle the maid as such,” he demands. “She serves the queen.” 

“She may join us, yes? The queen could have an ally. We will play as pairs.” 

“Let the maid go,” the king grits. 

“Oh, do settle,” Jaskier unhooks his arm from around you. You stand and let your nerves settle, steadying your hands to pour the wine. “You are no fun, your highness.” 

Jazlene giggles, “oh he certainly is not. So dour,” she sounds like Lady Rezlyn in that moment. Often the duchess would throw barbs at her husband shamelessly. “Even his games are dull.” 

“You needn’t play,” King Geralt shoves his chair back and stands, “it was not my suggestion.” 

“She is right. You are much too serious,” Jaskier remarks. 

You leave the wine and back away. The air is thick. You feel as if you should go but cannot without dismissal. The king roils hotly as he exhales loudly. 

“Far too serious,” Jazlene trills, “he hasn’t time for any sort of fun, has he? He must attend his kingly duties and yet, he neglects his husbandly ones.” 

The king lets out a growl. He sneers at his wife as Jaskier’s laughter subsides. The lord looks alarmed as he peeks between the royal couples. 

“Mm, suppose it is time I see to my own luggage,” he rises. 

“No, stay, drink your wine,” King Geralt insists brusquely, “you and the queen can have mine,” he grips the goblet by the brim and shoves it towards Jazlene as the contents slosh. “You will find me attending my dour kingly duties, should you think to recall your own.” 

The king spins and stalks off, hands in fists, and bulls through the doors. They slam behind him and make you jump. You blink at the wood as your heart pounds. For as much as the queen wants her marriage to improve, she is hardly helping herself. 

“Ah,” Jaskier sits with a tut, “he can be a touch sensitive, can’t he?” 

Jazlene laughs, though you hear the nervous rattle in it, “can’t he?” 

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

[polyo-nym-y]

Bon Appétit~

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Alastor x Female!Reader

| Warnings: 18+ content. MDNI!! ooc Alastor, established relationship(kinda), quick smut with no plot, biting, blood, cunnilingus, fingering, hair tugging etc |

Hello, I’m Nym! This is my first time posting my writing ever!

This horny little community has me so inspired I couldn’t help but write something small. (4,666 words to be exact ;3 tried to get the funny devil number).

Also fair warning I wrote this a bit intoxicated so I apologize if it’s poorly written. But I hope you heathens enjoy it nonetheless <3

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Alastor retired to his tower as soon as the sky turned to a dark burgundy. He sat on his bench in front of his radio equipment. Fountain pen in hand and eagerly doodling away with a calm smile. Coat retired to its stand and his sleeves rolled to his elbows. Finding these late nights to be rare moments when he could allow himself to relax.

Though both his pen and music paused as he heard the trap door rustle behind him. “Hm?” Amused, he set his pen down and sits up from the bench. Coming around to the hatch he stood right beside it. A deep inhale taken as his grin grew recognizing the familiar smell of you. Bending at his hips as one hand swiftly opened the door. The other hand held out to offer assistance to his surprise guest.

The sudden opening of the hatch earned a gasp from you. Nearly losing your grip on the metal bars that you climbed up. You blinked at the hand offered to you before smiling and accepting the help eagerly.

“Now what do I owe this pleasure?” His usual cheery showman tone buzzed in your ears. With ease, he helped pull you up through the trap door, kicking it closed after. His eyes curiously noted the wicker basket you held in your other arm. “Well no wonder you had difficulty coming in!”

You chuckled nervously as he immediately points out the basket you brought. But what else did you expect? It’s Alastor, perceptive as ever. “The climb wasn’t so hard but by the time I had reached the door I was pretty tired…” you admitted with a glance running up his unusually relaxed form. His grin somehow managed to only make your own smile increase. “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything important. I couldn't sleep and thought I could just drop in and say hello!" You watched as one of his brows rose, earning an audible swallow from you. "Well, actually, I haven’t seen much of you today... or this week really. So I was honestly getting a bit curious about what you've been up to.” You wiggled the basket to him before setting it down on a small side table. “This is my apology for bargin’ on in.”

“Like always I appreciate your honesty, dear.” He folded his arms behind his back as he followed you to the table. With your back turned to him he took the time to slowly look you up and down. Noting the sweet white nightgown you wore that ended right above your knees. Your hair was tied back in a loose bun and you were wearing your slippers. All of this told him you really were in bed before deciding to come to him. His thoughts hesitated when he watched you open the basket. Pulling out a glass decanter of whisky and two matching cups to go with it.

You turned to face him, jumping slightly when you realized he had moved so close to you. With a laugh you waved him off. “Why don’t you put on some tunes for us, yeah?”

A staticky hum left him as he watched you for a few more seconds. He’d nod softly before spinning on his heels to do as you requested. One hand manually turning the music back on while the other subtly snapped behind his back. The music loud enough to just barely cover the sound of the hatch door locking.

He leaned against the desk of his radio station and watched you again. His grin soft as he couldn’t help but relax even more with the jazz on. “So! You really don’t have anything you wanted to talk about? Truly just stopping by to see what I’m doing ?” He pushed, teasingly.

You poured each other a glass before approaching him with his. He nodded in thanks as he took it from you. “Ha ha! No...” You stood in front of him with both hands nervously around your cup. His pointed questioning had you avoiding eye contact as you downed the small drink in one gulp. Fighting to not contort your face from the bitter taste.

He couldn’t help but laugh into his glass as he brought it up to his lips. “Really?” You caught his piercing gaze that was sent over the cup, before you watched him take a sip. “Because a nice glass of rye, jazz and sweet company.” He stares into his glass before flicking his gaze down to you again. “I really can’t help but feel like you’re trying to sweeten me up~”

The look he sent down had heat quickly washing over your body. Feeling the warmth settle on your cheeks and between your hips. He was teasing you but he didn’t seem upset by your presence. That thought seemed to encourage you, though you definitely needed another drink before you spilled your guts.

A nervous smile being sent to him as you put your finger up. “One- one moment.” You quickly approached the decanter where you left it on the side table. Your cup was filled with just a shot as you quickly knocked it back.

He finished his own drink before mindlessly setting the empty cup on the desk behind him. His smile stretched into a wide grin as he watched you desperately try to gain some liquid courage. He could easily help you right now, as he had an assumption on what this was about. There was no denying the odd connection the two of you had developed during your time here. Unfortunately, he was thoroughly enjoying watching you squirm and he was a very patient man when it came to torture.

Which is exactly what this felt like to you, torture. Staring into the empty cup for only a moment longer before leaving it on the table with the basket. You took rushed steps back up to Alastor as you shot your gaze up to meet his.

“Go on, darling, speak your mind.” He encouraged you with a shit eating grin. Your embarrassment and nervousness began to twist and settle in your stomach.

“I…” you slowly started, watching him tilt his head. Your gaze quickly shot to the side as the rest of your words came out rushed. “I would like to touch you-“

His brows shot to his hairline as he stiffened. He knew your intentions were along these lines. However, the sudden bluntness still caught him off guard.

A nauseating silence settled between the two of you, save for the jazz that still played in the background. You began regretting saying anything as your mouth opened to try and form words. You wanted to take it back with every fiber of your being. Eyes still glued to anywhere that wasn’t him. “I-uh wait no. I don’t mean like that- well I wouldn’t mind but- what I mean is- look you don’t have to say anything I know it’s a strong no and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable but I just needed to be honest-“

Alastors eyes never left you as he watched your reactions carefully. You never could lie to him and when you did it was never for long and never done well. So he knew your intentions were pure and your words were genuine. Usually, he wouldn’t even bother thinking it over. It never seemed of any interest to him in all his prior years of living and death. However, with you? He found himself weighing his options. Because he also wanted to touch you. He wanted to invade your personal space more than he would usually. You were different to him, it was apparent since day one.

“Alright.” he watched you snap your gaze up to him so suddenly he could’ve sworn he heard your neck crack. Shock written over your features as he pushed himself off from leaning against the desk.

“Wait, what?” You asked stunned as your eyes followed his movements. His body shifted slightly to the bench right beside him, smoothly lowering to sit.

“I’m giving you permission, my dear.” After making himself comfortable he motioned you to come closer. Obediently, you shuffled slowly up to him as he spoke again. “Although we will need to discuss terms first.”

You stopped a foot from his seated form. “Terms?” You questioned half listening. You were more focused on greedily taking in his relaxed state. Shamelessly appreciating the sight of him, no doubt thanks to the two drinks. Your eyes were on his lap, scanning down his exposed forearms and stopping on his large hands that ended with sharp red tips.

“Yes, darling, terms.” He noticed your eyes on other parts of him. Slightly bothered you weren't focused on what he was saying. His hand you were staring at quickly snapped at you and gestured to look up at him. “You didn’t think I’d give you such an honor without getting something in return, did you?” His words were laced with venomous mockery.

With your eyes now held with his you hesitated to speak. Feeling your cheeks start to burn more. “I didn’t.. expect to get to at all, so…” your words were so quiet and uncertain. His ears flicked atop his head as he tried to hear you clearly over the music.

“Speak up, dear, you must use your words properly if we are going to do this.” He leaned back into the bench as he glanced you up and down. Allowing you to deliciously simmer in your own embarrassment. “My terms are rather simple. If I allow you to touch me-“ he placed a hand against his chest. “Then it’s only fair I get to touch you too, right my dear?” Dramatically his hand flicked from his chest to gesture to you. Palm being held out for you to accept. “Deal?”

You swallowed dryly as you stared at his large hand. “You want to touch me?” Eyes flicking between his black palm and his red half-lidded gaze. “And we get like.. free roam? Touch.. anywhere?” The mere thought of having his hands on you had you pressing your thighs together. In this moment, you would let him do anything he wanted to you without hesitation. What you were really worried about was his comfort. If you were to upset him by making him uncomfortable, you’d want to die, again.

A static heavy chuckle was forced from him. The fingers on his outstretched hand flexed impatiently. “I wouldn’t say it’s a want from me.” He lied. “Rather so, curiosity? Yes, let's call it curiosity.” Even now he was going to ensure he had the upper hand. “But if you don't want me touching you and you’d rather just chinning*..” his offered hand curled his fingers in and then withdrew to his lap. “No skin off my nose, dear.”

Physically witnessing his hand draw back had panic rising in you. Like this rare opportunity was about to be lost forever. He watched amused as your eyes widened and you stumbled forward slightly with the force in which you spoke. “NO-“ you both cringed at the sudden rise in volume. “No- I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t want you to- it’s quite the opposite actually..”

He watched you shuffle closer until your knees hit his. Again, he noticed your gaze lingered on other parts of him rather than his eyes. “Then spill. What do you want?”

You chewed nervously on your bottom lip. “I.. I want your touch on me, Alastor. More than my want to touch you. You’d turn Hell into Heaven if I could only have your attention on me..” His smile widened when you finally raised your eyes to meet his again. “But I’m worried about upsetting you, Alastor. Having permission to freely touch you seems…too good to be true? And to hear you intend to touch me as well? Whether it’s a want or just curiosity I could care less. Fuck, Al, I’ll feed that curiosity however you want.”

A genuine and loud laugh rumbled from his chest. “Oh ho! what a desperate and pathetic display you are giving me.” He cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes on you. “What can I say? I suppose I’m feeling rather charitable tonight.” Slowly he leaned forward, his hands sliding down his thighs. His fingers gently wrap around your wrists. Watching carefully for any resistance to his touch. “And I promise, Mon Cher, I’ll let you know if I don’t like something. So you needn’t worry about upsetting me.” Truthfully, he’d be quick to wrench your hands away from any area he didn’t like. “You’ll do the same for me, right?”

With a sneaky smirk he brought your hands to his face. Gently grazing his lips across your knuckles. You couldn’t stop the shiver that ran down your spine as you watched him breathlessly. To his surprise though you shook your head no. “I won’t need to.”

A sadistic glint shined in his ruby eyes as he smirked against your hands. The gentle kindness he planned on showing you began to slip. “Oh? Is that so?” A sudden yank of your wrists had you falling into his chest. His warm hands glided down from your wrists to help guide your knees on either side of him. He fussed with your positioning until he was satisfied with your thighs straddling his lap. Taking a gleeful glance at your flustered expression and rigid body. “You sound so certain. What if I wanted to eat you whole? What would you say then?”

He leaned back into the bench as he observed you intently. Heat settled over your entire body as you stiffly fidgeted on top of him. Embarrassed, you didn’t want to rest your full weight on him. But his hands had a firm grip on your hips, pressing you down ever so slightly to keep you in place.

Sweaty hands hesitantly came to rest on his chest, fingers gently crawling up to the top of his shoulders. “What would I say?” your words slipped from your lips like a whisper. Your desire and need for him outweighed your nerves drastically. His hands squeezed the flesh at your hips when he felt you finally relax into him. Entranced, he watched a soft smile settle on your face before you spoke. “Bon Appétit.”

Chest heaving, nostrils flaring and eyes like a hungry animal. With those words, something snapped in him. It quite literally took everything in him in that moment to not simply swallow you whole right then and there.

His jaw clenched as a loud static began to swarm around the two of you. He felt his mouth water as he swallowed, having to clear the excess saliva that pooled around his tongue. Savor her, he repeated in his head, you must savor your meal. The buzzing static overtook the music completely until it disappeared with a loud pop, earning a flinch from you. His mouth opened with a purr “Merci.”.

Your breath hitched as he leaned down to close the space between you two. His warm lips ghosted across your own, so close yet so far. Every coherent thought you once had was muddled and drowned. The unexpected intimacy that Alastor was giving you had your heart hammering against your ribs. In that moment you decided firmly, you’d completely give in to him and this desire.

One hand of his shifted from your hip and up your side. Talons trailing up until his fingers laced in your hair, pulling the tie that held it up. As you felt your hair fall freely you tried to close the space between you completely. Lips hungrily wanting to capture his.

He was quick, however, as the hand that remained at the back of your head tightened its grip. Fingers firmly tugging at the roots to guide your head back. A desperate whine leaving you as he forced your lips away from his. “What happened to both of us getting to touch? Or is kissing off limits?” You asked half joking as he dipped his head to place a soft kiss under your jaw. His lips settled comfortably on your now exposed throat as he inhaled deeply.

“You are touching, mon cher. A lot more than anyone else has.” He reminded you with a smirk against your flesh. You felt his lips part as warm breath ghosted the vulnerable skin of your throat. Your fingers trailed further up from his shoulders and up the back of his neck. You shuddered against him as his warm tongue licked a wet strip up. “I wonder, do you taste as delicious as you smell?”

“Al-“ you let out a sharp yelp as you feel a hot stinging pain begin to bloom on your shoulder. Instinctively, with your fingers in his hair, you tried to yank his head away much like he did to you. But he refused to be removed from his tasty meal. He let a low growl out with his lips still suctioned to you, a warning. You hadn’t expected him to literally taste you but it was foolish of you to expect anything less from a cannibal.

Your thoughts began to fog as you felt him suck the blood from your wound. His cock twitched beneath you as if the blood he drank from you went straight to his groin. Any previous intentions on partaking on your end of the deal was long gone. You couldn’t care less about where your hands were. The only thing that mattered now was that his hands remained on you.

You bit your lip trying to hold in the small yelps in pain as he attacked the wound he made. Prodding and poking trying to coerce as much blood as he could without literally tearing a chunk from you.

Desperately, needing more than just his feasting mouth, you rolled your hips against his. You stuttered your movements as he sunk his teeth deeper into you in response. Another whimper left your parted lips as his name tumbled out like a prayer. “Alastor-“

He sighed through his nose, having to will himself to release your tasty flesh. Slowly blinking his eyes open as he lifted up with a suctioned pop. Leaning back to take in the beautiful sight of your bloody and bruised shoulder. He watches closely as beads of red quickly begin to pool and drip over your collar bone. Bleeding into the pure white of your nightgown.

“Beautiful, Mon Cher, absolutely beautiful.” His lips parted to show a bloody grin. His eyes were glazed over as if the taste of you was more intoxicating than the drink he had a moment ago. “You did so good.” You felt his grip in your hair loosen as his fingers brushed through. With his now free hand he began to smear the blood on your shoulder, earning a wince from you. “I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?” His hand cupped your cheek and you could feel your blood sticking your flesh to his, like glue. He pulled at your bottom lip with his thumb as he brought his face close to yours again. “Do you want a taste?”

Before you could even begin frantically nodding, he already captured your lips in his. Pulling back just enough to use his thumb to wrench your mouth open. You gave him no resistance as he dove back in. His tongue eagerly exploring the entirety of your mouth. Spreading the taste of your own blood.

He swallowed a muffled moan as both hands slipped to your hips. Fingers digging into clothed flesh as he grinded you into him. “See?” His lips parted from yours with a pink tinged dribble of saliva connecting you to him. “Delicious, aren’t you?”

Quickly, you licked the bloody spittle on his lips. “If I say yes will you-“ a moan interrupted your sentence as his hands continued to grind you against his hardened cock. “-f-fuck please just fucking touch me-“

“I am touching you, mon cher.” His hands slowed to grind on him at an agonizing pace. The friction slick as you fully drenched your panties and began to seep into the front of his pants. “Remember, use your words.”

“Alastor, p-please-“ your words trembled as you tried to retain some sense of composure. But the teasing feeling of him beneath his pants was going to drive you insane. With a shaky breath you leaned away from him. One hand grasping the hem of your nightgown and yanking it up to your chest. Your other hand sliding fingers under the hem of your underwear to pull them down ever so slightly. His gaze shooting down immediately to take in the erotic sight of your pubic hair barely poking out. “Please just eat me already.”

“How could I say no when you’re pleading so sweetly?” In a blink of an eye he had his hands holding you against him. With a chuckle he stood from the bench, his hands cupping your ass to carry you with him. Your own hands quickly grab his shoulders to keep yourself from falling.

You’re swung around as you hear crashing behind you. Alastors shadow-y tendrils quickly swiping his desk clear in order to make space for you. A gasp leaving you as your back is dropped onto the hard surface with a thud. His hands holding your legs at his hips by the pits of your knees. His taller frame towering over you as you lay sprawled under him.

The grin that spread across his face had you squirming. His warm hands pull you by your legs until your ass is completely off the desk. With only your upper half resting against the hardwood, your stomach does flips, feeling like you’ll fall. But his hold on you is firm as he lowers to his knees. Effortlessly, your legs are settled over his shoulders. You’re practically panting in anticipation as you feel him chuckle against your inner thighs. “Nervous, dear? You’re shaking.”

“Shut up-“ A groan is ripped through clenched teeth as he sinks his teeth into the plump flesh of your right thigh. Hissing, you latch your hand into his hair. He gave no reaction to your grip as he enjoys lapping at the new wound. One of his hands sliding up to give your ass a good squeeze.

You hadn’t realized you were clenching your eyes closed until they flew open. Your back arching off the desk as your breathing hitched. The feeling of his warm tongue running up your clothed slit had you feeling sparks. The blood on his tongue seeped into the already damp fabric, adding another stain to you. “F-Fuck- Jesus Christ-“ he ran his tongue up again slowly, ending with a nice flick to your clit.

“Careful, if you moan other men’s names I’ll become rather jealous.” He hummed against your left thigh as he weaseled a hand between your legs. Sharp talons grabbing hold of the fabric of your underwear and tearing it enough to freely expose his meal.

It was a struggle keeping your eyes opened as you leaned your head forward. Freezing, as you were met with Alastors gaze sent over your exposed sex. He was watching you intently as he brought his face closer to your aching core. “I-I think I’d like to see you jealous.”

“I’m sure you would, you naughty thing.” Finally, without anything blocking his touch, you felt him lap his wet muscle up between your folds. A wispy moan leaves your lips as you remove your hand from his hair. Fingers reaching back to ground yourself against whatever you could on his desk.

The taste of you saturated over his taste buds as a pleased groan rumbled in his chest. His hands wrap around your upper thighs in order to hold you in place. His eyes flicked up trying to see what he could of your reactions. He gave up rather quickly though, losing himself to you fully now.

The juxtaposition of his agonizing teasing now being replaced with determined hunger was almost overstimulating. You couldn’t stop the shake in your legs as he twisted his tongue inside of you. The unnatural length of it reached further than you expected.

His name tumbled from your lips so sweetly it only made him crave your taste more. Fingers digging into your hips as he pressed his face deeper into you. Suffocating himself on your scent as his tongue twisted and flicked inside. When his nose pressed against your clit he felt your walls clench. A cheeky smirk forming against your lower lips. A shudder ran down your spine when you felt his tongue slip out from you. But you didn’t feel empty for long as he easily slipped a finger into you, a second quickly following. You felt yourself forgetting how to breathe as he ruthlessly pumped his fingers into your heat. Erotic squelching filled the small space of his radio room. You hadn’t realized until now that the music was off, ensuring he could hear every sound your body offered him.

His tongue lazily licked your juice from his lips as his eyes flickered between wanting to peer at your face and wanting to watch your sweet pussy taking his fingers so well. “Good girl. Such a good girl, my dear.” You were a moaning mess, unable to respond any other way to his praises.

Your entire body tensed as he brought his lips back to your needy cunt. His mouth suctioned around your sensitive clit. Tongue swiping and flicking, assaulting the bundle of nerves. His fingers stopped their pumping as he pressed as deep into you as he could, fingers bending and focusing on a specific spot. He hummed casually as if he wasn’t making you see stars.

Your body lurched forward as both hands flew to grip his hair. “F-FUCK- A-Ah fuck.” He felt your walls clench around his fingers, cock twitching knowing he had you on that cliff. “So close- please p-please-“

“Hm? Wanting to cum already?” His tone was patronizing as he lifted his mouth from you. A whiny sound coming from you as that build up dimmed slightly, keeping you just before that edge. “I’ll allow it. Only if you’re a good girl and say my name as you cum, understand?”

“Y-Yes- just please-please please-“ Another pleased hum rumbled from him as he lowered back to your sopping heat. His lips suctioned around your clit once more, continuing to stimulate both spots. It only took a moment longer and you finally reached your peak. “ALASTOR-“ A pathetic mewl ripped from your throat as it crashed over you in waves. Every muscle in your body tensed, walls clenching and twitching around his fingers as he helped you through your orgasm. His mouth popping off of you as he wore a wide smirk, lips and chin glistening from the mixture of you and his own saliva.

His fingers didn’t stop massaging your walls until he felt your body relax. Only then did he slip his digits out to greedily lick them clean. His tongue finds its way back to the bite on your thigh. Lapping at the wound while it was still weeping blood. “Thank you for such a delicious meal, my dear.” He would purr as you were still trying to catch your breath. Shifting he moved your legs off from his shoulders in order to stand back up. His warm hands wrapping your legs around his waist as he stepped forward leaning into you. He helps lift you up just enough to scooch you fully on the desk once more. Your eyes lazily watch him loom back over you as you try to sit up on your elbows. His smile devious as he slips his red talons under his suspenders, slowly slinking them off of his shoulders as he purred down to you. “What do you say, darling, are you ready for dessert?”

And you then knew that your night was far from over…

————————————————————

*Chinning: 20s slang meaning ‘talking’.

#alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #alastor smut #alastor x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #alastor x reader smut

[tofixtheshadows]

You guys really need to stop and consider the ways you're talking about Kabru I am dead fucking serious. Like I know that flattening characters is just what fandom does to a certain extent, but Kabru's actual personality is getting lost to the fandom hivemind insisting that he's aggressive/cruel/sociopathic/hateful, and these are particularly concerning takes to see leveled at the only brown character in the main cast day after day. "My poor sweet golden child Laios needs to be protected from this scary brown man" is not a good look! Like, it's very telling that the bulk of the hate and bad faith readings are reserved for Toshiro and Kabru. Everyone else's flaws get to be discussed and validated and forgiven (or erased), meanwhile people are straight making up things to be mad about with Toshiro and Kabru but patting themselves on the back for being smart.

The worst part is how undeserved it all is. I'm trying to lay off anime-onlys because we're still kind of in the red herring stage of getting to know Kabru, but I would still like to gently suggest that even if you think Kabru is up to something, you don't gave to get in the tags of every fan creator's post and bring up how you hate him or You Can Tell he's totally evil. Sometimes I think Kabru's blue eyes give people license to say things about his appearance that they know would sound completely racist otherwise, but referring to his blue eyes acts as a get-out-of-racism free card. The jokes about the dog with brown contacts are getting old, by the way.

For people who have read the manga, it's disappointing. Kabru is one of the most complex and important characters in the story, and if you base your interpretation of him and all your fandom interactions on shallow first impressions you are completely missing out.

I know part of this is because Dungeon Meshi is a comedy, but the story also wants to be taken seriously. For example, it's admittedly really funny when Chilchuck calls Laios "sick in the head", but that doesn't change the fact that the way Chilchuck casually belittles Laios caused him to hide the fact that he was "hallucinating" from his friends for weeks. Those feelings matter.

Like, this

is funny.

But this?

Is not. This is just a very clear example of a brown boy with PTSD. As someone else with PTSD, just looking at this fucking sucks, man.

The only reason why Kabru thinks about killing Laios is because he is in the middle of a flashback. He's struggling through a panic attack. If he truly wanted to kill Laios because he's violent or because he finds Laios inherently annoying, he wouldn't otherwise talk with Laios normally. Notice how he doesn't act this way at any other point in the story- it's just because he's triggered by monsters. Even when he's thinking about his plans to "deal with" Laios later, he's reluctant to actually kill him and only considers it to prevent another tragedy. Despite his deadly skills, Kabru relies far more on "soft" power- insight, persuasion, diplomacy. He's a rare example of a character who absolutely is, or at least can be, manipulative, but seems to use his abilities for good. He's not a pathological liar, he isn't looking down on everyone behind a smile. He's someone who is extremely emotionally intelligent, and he's willing to put aside all his own basic wants and needs to stop the cycle of dungeons devouring humans.

I'm going to cut a potential thesis on his character short and just give some examples of things that fandom should consider about his personality more:

Racism in fandom isn't just about whitewashing in fan art, or using racial slurs. The insidiousness of bad faith readings, reductions to racist tropes, lack of fan content for characters of color, and dismissal of a character's complexity are far more common. You can believe yourself to be completely neutral or even positive about a character and still churn out low-grade bile about them into fandom's collective unconscious. Fandom reflects real life.

And I have been around fandom long enough to see how these behaviors (mostly from my fellow white fans) affect fans of color, how it makes a fandom feel hostile and unwelcome to them. It's fun to make jokes and memes, I'm absolutely not saying that everything needs to be a deeply nuanced take, but we need to be careful that it doesn't veer into toxicity. Please think about how our contributions to fandom come across, and what sort of vibes they cultivate in this communal space.

#Dungeon Meshi #Kabru #Kabru of Utaya #Dungeon Meshi meta #I'm putting it in the tag. I'm making you look at it. #if you come into my inbox to bitch about this just know that people used to send me b*heading videos in there for similar racist reasons #so I will not be impressed #I'm in a fucking time loop someone get me out!!!! #musings with Dea

[heavyhitterheaux]

Church Girl, Don't Hurt Nobody Part 2 (Slight NSFW)

Synopsis: The time has now come for you to confront your mother about your relationship with Jack. Your mind is already made up, and the last thing that you would ever do is ruin your happiness. It doesn't go as planned, and you are left with a lot to think about.

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Reader

Read Part 1 first

Requested by: so many of you lol so I had to run it back

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

You currently had both of your legs on your boyfriend's shoulders as his face was between your thighs with the sunlight peeking through the floor length windows.

This had been going on for close to a week since you were hiding out from your parents for as long as you could. You knew that you were going to have to face them sooner or later, but later was beginning to sound better and better. 

After Jack had found out from his friends the truth about you as well as your family, he was obviously upset, but could understand from your point of view why you did it once you had explained everything to him and had a few days to think about. He was lowkey still upset about it, but didn’t want to let you see it since now everything was out in the open and he knew your mind was on overdrive. He had lost track of how many times you had cried about it.

You were scared shitless of what was about to happen when you went home and was putting it off for as long as you could. Of course that night even though Jack was clearly upset with you, he wanted for you to stay with him. In the back of his mind, even though he initially said that he was probably going to break up with you because you lied to him, he quickly changed his mind after hearing your explanation and the bottom line was he didn't want to be without you.

Your phone had been going off nonstop since the picture was posted and you hadn’t answered anyone. You were actually surprised that not once did your mother call you and you knew that she was pissed. But at this point, should you even care what she thought about you? Your fate was sealed anyway.

After the picture was posted the two of you were sitting across from each other in silence. You knew he was mad at you and you were trying to create a plan in your head for the both of you to get through this with no harm done, but you were coming up short.

You were always so careful when going out at night and the one time you weren't, someone snapped a photo of you. 

Wanting to give your boyfriend some space (if he was still your boyfriend at that point for that matter since you didn't know) you didn’t even say anything and had gotten up to start making your way to the door but as you went to open it, you saw Jack's hand come from behind you to close it.

"Where are you going?" Jack asked from behind you and when you didn't answer him, he turned you around to face him with tears in your eyes and a trembling lip and knew they were about to fall down. 

"I… just… you're my escape and my peace from everything that goes on around me and it's just why can I never do anything for myself? Why can't I do what I want? I am 27 years old, still sneaking out of my parents house to see my boyfriend. And I'm sorry for dragging you into this. I should have been honest from the beginning and I'm sorry for that.”

"Dragging me into what? I don't regret asking you to be my girlfriend so don't you think that for a second."

He wanted to be with you for the long haul and this was just something that the two of you had to face together. He was going to do his best to protect you to the best of his ability from the world and also your parents.

“Talk to me in a week and we'll see if you feel the same way.”

“The way I feel about you isn't going to go away in a week so I know that my answer is going to be the same.”

“I don't even know where to begin to fix this.”

“Let me ask you this. What exactly needs to be fixed? We're together like we want to be aren’t we? So what's the problem? You know that they already don't approve so fuck it.”

—

"Damn, baby it's like Niagara Falls down here." Jack said as he looked down at his fingers.

"You want a side of eggs with that?"

"HUH?"

"Pussy juice, side of eggs, that's my breakfast." You said while repeating Jack's lyrics to him and giggling. 

All Jack did was smirk and laugh at you.

"Nah, I don't need the eggs. This is enough to get me full." Jack said as he grabbed your legs to pull you towards the end of the bed and you let out a yelp.

Jack then leaned down to kiss you and you immediately wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer to give him several more. When he finally pulled away, he began to place kisses all over your face making you laugh.

Next thing you knew, you felt him slide into you and you immediately gasped since you had been caught off guard.

He was going at a slow, even pace taking his time to give you as much pleasure as possible to take your mind off of everything going on around you.

You then wrapped your left leg around him wanting for him to get as deep as he possibly could. 

You were now laying on Jack's chest as his arm was wrapped around you in a comfortable silence and Jack was the one to break it. 

"Baby, as much as I want to, we can't hide out in my condo forever. I have to promote this album and I've already done what I could to push it back for a week to make sure you were okay.”

"I know and I appreciate you for doing that for me because you definitely didn't have to. I'm not okay in the slightest, but I know that I just have to deal.”

"I would do anything for you. You know that. And I'm going to make sure you get to the point where you are okay." Jack replied as he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

"I just… don't want to face them. My mother more than anyone else."

"I don't like how she has it where you're actually scared of her." 

“I… it's not the fact that I'm scared of her. I just know that no matter how perfect I try to be, that it will never please her and that I'm always going to fall short. All of my siblings don't care for me either except my big sister Eden. Because I'm the only one that will somewhat challenge my parents. It's always been this way.”

“Just know that I only want the best for you and want you to be happy. You deserve that and not be stressed out all the time over what someone else might think about you.”

“I know.” You quietly answered, but your mind was still running a mile a minute.

“You think that you'll be okay when I leave later tonight? I'd rather you come with me. I just don't want to leave you here with them.”

“I don't really have a choice. I have to face them sooner or later. Even if I don't want to.”

“Look if anything happens, anything at all. Say the word and I'll come and get you.” Jack said as he moved a curl out of your face and lightly kissed your nose.

“You're going to be busy and the last thing I want to be is a distraction.”

“Baby, I can promise that you won't be. I would rather have you with me instead of people who upset you on a daily basis. Because how is that a good thing? You don't need to be in that type of environment.” Jack replied as he started playing with the bracelet that graced your wrist that he gifted you.

“She's probably never going to let me sing again.” You quietly said as you felt tears prick the corners of your eyes.

“Why do you need her permission to do it? Just because she might not want you to sing there, doesn't mean you have to stop altogether. Still not over how amazing your voice is and how well you hid that from me.”

“Trust me, it wasn't easy.” You said while laughing.

“No more secrets. Promise?”

“Promise.”

After you had helped Jack pack all of his things and the two of you decided to have a quick dinner together, it was time for you to make your way back home as much as you didn't want to while Jack was set to go to New York.

He had given you several kisses, but you were still holding onto him for dear life not wanting to let him go just yet. 

“You know you can come with me. The offer still stands. Because now you are definitely stalling.” He said while looking down at you. Jack knew your mind was made up, but he didn't want you going back there at all. If your mom is as bad as you had told him, he wanted to keep you far away from her. 

“As much as I want to, I have to do this. I don't want to drag it out longer.”

“Tell me when you get there and what happens when you two talk. I just have a strong feeling that you are about to call me in tears and that is the last thing that I want. If I have to protect you from your own family, then so be it.”

“It might go better than we think.” You said trying to reassure him.

“Babe, are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

“Hmm, maybe both? But I promise to call if something happens.”

Wearing one of Jack's hoodies and a pair of your black leggings, it was around 10 at night once you had slipped through the entrance to your part of the house. 

Once in your bedroom, you turned on the light to see your big sister Eden once again staring at you.

“For future reference, if you are trying to hide out with your boyfriend, turn off your location. Even though you only share it with me.”

“You have got to stop sneaking up on me, Eden!”

“Not a chance. I let you have your fun but now I'm about to yell but this is only out of love and concern.”

You simply nodded as you took a seat next to her on your bed.

“Now you know you can tell me anything and I will never hold it against you. Being in this family is hard enough and you are my baby sister. If you would have come to me, I would have helped you to tell them.”

“I… so many times I wanted to. But I was just scared. He's really important to me and I didn't want anyone or anything to ruin it. Not that I think you would, but everyone else. What did they say when they found out?”

“That was the first time I actually heard your mother cuss if that explains anything. And she was on Google looking him up for about two hours.”  Eden replied and you couldn't help but to laugh.

“And dad?”

“He simply shrugged and said if she's happy, then I'm fine with it.”

“I figured that he would be the one to say that.”

“And she was also upset that you have been M.I.A. obviously.”

“Why does she need to know my every move? She needs to get over herself.”

“You let me know when that happens. Anyway, tell me EVERYTHING. He's really cute and I'm definitely not surprised you two are together. A good match if I do say so myself.”

“Well we met at Taylor's birthday party a while ago and we've been talking ever since. It was only recently that he asked me to be his girlfriend. I've already met his parents and his brother and I absolutely adore them. His friends I only met at the album release party, but so far so good. He's funny, sweet, caring, always putting my feelings into consideration and I just love being around him. I know that you and dad would like him. I really don't care about anyone else.”

“And you shouldn't. He makes you happy and that's the important part and all that matters. As long as he is treating you right, we won't have a problem. Now did you even tell him about…?”

“No, he didn't know and I believe his friends told him and explained it to him which he was mad about and I can understand that. I wasn't honest and I should have been. He forgave me and we're just moving forward. I told him everything including how I know she hates me.”

“I can only imagine the look on his face. And I don't think she hates you. She hates that she can't control you.”

“Yeah, and then the picture didn't help.”

“Did anyone else know about you two? Perhaps, Tania?” Eden asked while eyeing you.

“Yes and she was sworn to secrecy. Just her and no one else.”

“Soooo, when can I meet him?”

“Well he's going to be busy promoting his album, but I'm sure if I bring it up he'll make time for it. I talk to him about you all the time.”

“I don't think I've ever seen you this happy and I hope the two of you stay together for the long haul.”

As Jack was sitting on the plane and playing with his phone, Urban came and sat next to him and simply eyed him.

“Uh, Urb? Can I help you?” Jack asked as he laughed. 

“Are you and Y/N okay? Did she talk to her parents yet?”

“We're fine but not yet. She said she would tell me when it happened. I already told her that I feel like she's going to call me in tears. I wanted her to come with me but she said that she just wanted to get it over with.”

“I hope she'll be okay. It seems like she's never been able to do what she wants.”

“She hasn't. But Neelam told us both not to say anything about it for now hoping that it would eventually blow over. The last thing I wanted to do was leave her in Louisville, but her mind was made up.”

“If her mother is as bad as she claims her to be, I know that this conversation that they are supposed to have is not going to go over well.”

“I'm literally just waiting for her to call me.”

“I wonder what they'll even say to her, I mean she's a whole adult.”

“And from the way that she talks about her, that clearly doesn't matter. She still looks at her like she's a little kid and it doesn't help that she's the youngest either.” Jack replied while shaking his head.

“I know she means a lot to you from the way that you talk about her.”

“She does, I'm just trying to let her see that it's okay to do what makes you happy and to not care what anyone else thinks about it.”

—

You and Eden hid out in your room until the next morning when you figured that it was time to face her. After taking a shower, you slipped on a yellow sundress along with white wedge sandals and straightened your hair. It was time for breakfast, so you started making your way towards the dining room. 

Once you entered the room, all eyes were on you as you took your respective seat in between Eden and Grace. Eden sent you a soft smile while Grace rolled her eyes at you. Matthew and Malachi simply exchanged glances with each other along with their spouses as your mother was burning a hole into you with her gaze. Your dad was simply reading his morning paper as he always did and sent you a small smile. You knew when it came down to it, the only people that you could truly count on in your family was your dad and Eden.

As the breakfast spread was placed on the table, your mother was the first to speak.

“Y/N, you have some nerve showing back up here like you didn't do anything.”

“I haven't done anything wrong and the last time I checked, I lived here.” You responded while piling your plate high with eggs, hash browns, and fruit.

“You call a night on the town with a well known rapper nothing? Where people saw the two of you together?”

“Adalaide….” Your father said to your mother in a warning tone, but she simply brushed him off.

“When you leave this house, you are representing this family, and so far this week, you have been nothing but an embarrassment.”

“That's your opinion and you're entitled to it. I am a grown woman who can do anything she wants and I don't need your approval. I have been under your thumb since the day I was born and have been in control of how I dress, who I talk to, my hair, my makeup, and my career path. It's time that I take control of my life without having you criticizing me.”

"No daughter of mine is going to serve the Lord and then be spreading her legs wide open for her rapper boyfriend. And don't even lie and say that you haven't. You look like the type to give it up to any man who ever glanced your way. And of course you think he loves you because he's told you exactly what you want to hear!" 

“MOM!” Eden exclaimed while looking at her in disbelief but all she did was take a sip of her tea.

"You don't even know him!"

"I know enough and I don't care to have you in my sight any longer. It's clear that you have chosen him over your family. So do me a favor and get out. Leave your house key on the table in the foyer. If he loves you so much as you claim he does, go live with him. And I for damn sure better not see you at my church singing for the Lord on Sunday."

“Adalaide, that's enough! If that's who she loves, who are we to stop it? We want all of our children happy and he obviously makes her happy." Your dad said while shaking his head at her.

“Then she can go and be happy with him and not be under my roof taking up space.”

“Now that's taking it a little too far.” You heard Grace say which you were surprised by.

“She's literally not hurting anyone and always did what you wanted her to do. Why are you ruining the one thing she's done for herself?” Your oldest brother Malachi asked and she rolled her eyes.

“What I said still stands. I want her out and if all of you have a problem with it, you can go and follow her. You better be out of my house by midnight and don't bother showing your face here or at church ever again. As far as I'm concerned, I only have two daughters now.”

A collective gasp was heard at the table, and all you could do was laugh to yourself before saying anything.

“Y/N, don't you get up from this table. You are a part of this family as much as anyone else.”

“It's okay, dad. Trust me, it is. I know how she feels about me.”

“This is entirely uncalled for.” Matthew said while looking at your mother who waa unfazed. You simply turned towards her before speaking.

“Keep in mind what you just told me and don't you dare crawl back to me later and try to apologize. If you want me out, fine. The next time I see you will be at your fucking funeral and not a moment sooner. I'll prove to you that I never needed someone like you in my life to begin with.”

“Y/N!” Grace called after you as you pushed yourself away from the table and made your way into the direction of your room.

You held your head high and was determined not to let the tears fall. You finally stood up to her and didn't regret saying what was on your mind.

Grabbing your phone, you facetimed Jack who immediately answered and could tell that something was wrong from the look on your face.

“Baby….”

“She literally just disowned me.”

#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow angst #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfiction

[euphorianz]

Hi! Can you do a anthony bridgerton being obsessed with a reader who doesnt want anything to do with him and rejects him all the time?

Thank u!

(in read your colin one, he is not really my man but your writing is just marvelous! If you decide to do this im so excited to read it!! If you dont its ok, no pressure!)

❥Anthony Bridgerton as a obsessed partner

pairing_ Anthony x reader

Possible triggers_ yandere/dark content, forced affection, mentions of yelling, toxic relationships, Anthony being a total jerk, unwilling reader

a/n_ hiii, thanks so much for your interest! I hope this fic is good and is exactly what you wanted <3 like I said in my last post feedback is welcome and requests!

-unlike his brother Colin, he is fully aware of what he’s doing and he doesn’t care. He has an “eye on the prize” mentality and has no intention of straying from his goal (you).In a way this is all a game to him, and he has no plans of losing.

-Anthony is controlling/ intense. He desires nothing more for you to be his, and only his. He is not afraid to fight when it comes to you, and will gladly knock a man out for even looking at you. Intimidation tactics are common. Expect to see Anthony randomly showing up at your home or anywhere else you might be. Wether you like him or not he wants everyone to believe the two of you are together. He’s the first one to come up to you at a ball and he makes sure he’s the only one. He doesn’t care if you say no. On top of being controlling he can also be jealous, so expect to be pressed with questions like, “who were you with?!” “What is his name?!” “Do you honestly think he can provide better than me?”

-he has no problem taking full advantage as his role as “viscount” when it comes to you (and your family). He’ll use his influence to gain your family’s favor and your hand. Although meeting through friendship is possible, your mostly likely to catch his eye at a ball than anything. Like his brother the marriage will be swift. Everyone in the ton will be invited to witness your union wether you like it or not. He knows that you don’t hold the same affection for him, so he hopes the tons presence will keep you in check.

-once the two of you are married he doesn’t tolerate any kind of outburst, especially near his family. He cares deeply about them, and the thought of you speaking ill of him or your relationship fills him with rage. So he’ll make a point to be by your side until he can fully trust you. Family participation is a must, especially when it comes to family games. He wants you by his side and happy, but if you can’t be he’s willing to force it.

-if you manage to tell your in-laws about Anthony’s extreme behavior or beg them to help you get out of the marriage, there’s little chance you’ll get the help that you want. Anthony will be quick to take hold of the situation and reassure them that there’s nothing wrong then punish you accordingly. Like his brother he doesn’t like to see you in pain, but he’s not afraid to inflict it.

-like his brother he wants a lot of kids and he expects you to feel the same. If you don’t he’ll just say, “you don’t actually feel that way my love. You’ll come around eventually.” Again family is important to him, so you will eventually have children wether you like it or not.

-Anthony at times can have a short temper, especially when you push him away. He’ll yell and scream demanding “why you don’t love him”. After his outburst and if your upset he’ll be quick to comfort you and apologize, “I’m sorry.. I never mean to upset you.” He can have his tender moments.

-like the rest of his family divorce is not an option and bringing it up will only lead to more problems for you. Same goes for attempting to leave him. He doesn’t know what to do with himself or you at that point, and his desperation will only lead to fueling his obsession with you.

-he’s your husband and you’re his wife. It doesn’t matter how much you fight him or deny his affection that fact will remain. “Wether you acknowledge it or not, your are only for my eyes to witness. So there’s no use in fighting what’s already been vowed.”

#bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 #anthony x reader #anthony bridgerton x reader #Yandere Anthony #Yandere Anthony bridgerton #Yandere Anthony x reader #dark Anthony bridgerton

[sophsicle]

Soph I love you but Taylor Swift does not “make herself the victim” there’s so much valid shit that has happened to her for us to feel that way about her, which most of her fans honestly don’t even see her as - granted there as some obnoxious ones but that goes for all fandoms.

Like for example of the experiences I was talking about.

- being sexually assaulted and then being called “greedy” for suing the guy.

- being painted as a “snake” because she didn’t react well to someone writing a misogynistic song about it. Which I feel like is a valid reaction as a woman in entertainment.

- being groomed at 19 by a 30+ something year old.

- getting called a snake worldwide for a narrative that 2 people - who were more famous than her at the time invented.

- being bodyshamed constantly when she had an eating disorder

Yes she’s privileged and has always been, coming from money and having fame, but she does not portray herself as the “victim” and the fact that people think she does just for standing up for herself makes me sad, not because of her but because being a woman myself it just paints the picture that women’s pain or experiences will always be brushed under the rug because we’re classified as “dramatic” and “we should take it with more grace” “be thankful about the good things” like??

I understand that you don’t like her but that assessment just seems wrong.

like i just. you realize you're proving my point right? like this - not just this message, but all of the ones i've gotten where people are waxing poetic about all of the struggles taylor swift has had and how she is absolutely a victim and how dare i suggest otherwise - is exactly what i'm talking about. you feel the need to jump down the throat of anyone who says anything remotely negative about her. this is the whole "victim" narrative, that she is vulnerable and must be protected and defended from all negativity at all times at all costs.

and like. that is on purpose. she has cultivated that narrative for this reason. so that publications are now afraid to post reviews of her albums with bylines because their journalists are getting death threats if they criticize her.

i am not suggesting that taylor swift has never had anything bad ever happen to her. that would be insane. i am trying to say that this culture that has been cultivated within her fanbase of defending and protecting her, is extreme and irrational. and when you don't buy into it, it makes a lot of the content surrounding taylor swift very hard to swallow.

#this is pointless #i know that #you can be devoted to her if you want to be i really don't care #but i will once again point out that i made a very mild negative statement about her #and i now have an inbox full of messages like this #and can you perhaps see how that is #an overreaction to me making a post on my blog #not tweeting at taylor swift #not yelling at her on the street #not starting a campaign against her #surely if yall can make posts about how much you love her i can do the opposite #and again #this is pointless there are so many more important things to discuss and fight about #i swear to god i did not mean to post that post because i knew it would inevitably lead here #but i made the choice to leave it up so this is my penance #soph rambles

[yawnderu]

your post about people mischaracterizing call of duty chars is kinda giving misogyny. i don't support noncon but seriously you act like men being mischaracterized in comfort fics is some kind of hate crime. they're fictional characters that spread military propaganda and kill people.

the fictional man is not oppressed bro. it rubs me the wrong way how many of u focus on berating female fanfic writers. focus on the fact that nearly every female character since the beginning of time (especially underaged ones) has been sexualized by men to the point of having their personality erased, features changed, actors harassed. especially female characters with strict storylines of trauma and family issues and mental health right in the source material. you have to read wikis and shit to even find out about ghost's trauma (besides the grief) and there are fics posted every day of trauma comfort, accurate portrayals of his ptsd, cute 141 friendships etc. can you name a single time a woman has been written with that much care by a straight cis male fanfic writer? i can't. i promise a "tiktok girl" mischaracterizing ghost isn't the end of the world.

don't even say "they're both bad" as a copout or mention how ghost has ptsd or something and would never mistreat a woman. like bro, i agree, but the people writing noncon of him are 99% of the time REAL women who are also sa victims, likely to a man. which btw, ptsd never stopped men from being the majority of sa perpetrators, but that's beside the point.

yes it's inaccurate when sum1 writes konig like a baby or ghost as a sex god. yes, some tropes r problematic. but let's not act like our "accurate" writing is realistic. in a group of men like the task force (especially knowing how military men are) i highly doubt even half of them would be respectful, open to love, loyal, good politics, etc. yet we all write them like husband material. because it's cope for the real world.

throwing real women's coping mechanisms under the bus in favor of fictional men will always be weird, sorry.

>The effort it takes to do the mental gymnastics of seeing anything in my posts from when I first made this account where female writers are NEVER mentioned is so weird. Some of my most popular works are noncon, and as a victim of rape and CSA/SA who has changed her views on writing that type of content and most of the stuff in those posts, I sort of get what you mean, despite the weird rant in anon.

Please remember that anything you read in here are just words baby, they shouldn't disrupt your soul this much. 😭😭😭

#stray answers #weird anons

[cordeliawhohung]

I saw a reblog of the anonymous ask someone sent you about using character ai, and someone responded saying something about how it’s disgusting to even ask that, which is a liiiitle harsh, but I digress.

The issue here, is that there are more people who don’t understand what AI is doing than people who do understand.

ChatGPT, Open AI, Character AI, Gemini, etc ALL steal from published works on the internet. It cannot be prevented, no one can stop it from happening.

I’m not an artist & I don’t publish my writing, but I do genuinely care about the artists and writers who are having their work stolen and receiving absolutely zero credit.

Please, please, please, do not put someone’s work into AI.

If you want to create a character, or a storyline & use character ai, by all means, go for it. But PLEASE, don’t disrespect or disregard these artists by feeding their work into an AI. It completely diminishes all of the hard work they put into their art.

oh boy, nothing like having a post you made in fucking january suddenly gain a fuck ton of attention lmao.

while i understand where you're coming from, i think you completely missed the main point of my response to that anon.

1: i literally explained that ai steals work to that anon. i said it's a pale imitation of what a real human would write. that it takes works that people put so much effort into and regurgitates it out. i told them not to put stuff into ai. i informed them, and i wasn't rude about it either. emotional, maybe, but i wasn't being rude.

2: the main issue i had with that anon, besides the ai grossness, was the insinuation that i'm not "creating enough content" for them. "the readers can interact more with the characters" comment from them really grinds my gears. even if ai didn't steal from creators, and it wasn't a godawful abomination, them wanting me to put my ideas and works into something that they can interact with that isn't through me completely disregards the entire purpose of me having this blog in the first place. which i ALSO explained to them. why would i want to put my work into a 3rd party source and not interact with my followers when that's literally my favorite part of creating? bonding and talking about the shit i put effort into? i had every right to be upset about that, and so does every other writer.

3: i have no control how people reblog my posts. so idk why you're coming in my inbox about what someone else reblogged, really, just to tell me everything that i've already explained to that anon. i know who you're talking about too, because they're a mutual of mine, and honestly, i agree with them. it's disgusting to suggest someone should put something into a third party source so they don't have to wait for me to "churn out works" or whatever. i know people aren't well informed. which is why i informed them on that post and left it at that. i also explained why it's frustrating to receive asks like that, to hopefully prevent them from doing that again.

also, while i have whoever is reading this, i'd also like to mention that the anon who sent that ai ask sent a response back (that i didn't bother to respond to because i wasn't trying to make this a thing) somewhat apologizing and said they asked me that because other blogs on tumblr were doing it too. don't do that. don't assume that just because some people are doing x thing, that means you can suggest it to someone else. it's rude, and comparing blogs is just frustrating in itself.

anyway. i will not be making this a thing. do not come into my inbox debating the ethics of ai or whatever, as i will simply not entertain it. (:

#core responds #fuck ai everything #fuck holding writers and artists to impossible standards #people have every right to be mad about it #and if they're a little rude about it i #really don't care

[grotesque-butler]

ETA: i have since learned that my interpretation of kuro was slightly wrong, as in this post i refer to sebastian as "the villain" when that is,,, completely incorrect. my posts in the future will not have this error.

rant/vent post because i'm tired of everything.

about a week ago i was sharing my excitement for the new kuro anime in a discord server im in (that has nothing to do with kuro), and i come back to find that one of the members had expressed their discomfort for the anime because it "sexualizes children" and "romanticizes grooming". this felt like a fucking punch to the gut because not only is it such an anti take, it genuinely made me feel so shitty because kuro is my main hyperfixation and people talking shit about it made me feel like garbage.

first of all, yes, kuro does sexualize ciel. a lot, actually. and i'm sorry you were uncomfortable about that, but sexualizing ciel is actually the main point of the story. kuro is mainly told through the eyes of sebastian, who wants nothing but a meal. it is told from the eyes of a fucked up demon who wants to further traumatize and groom his master to make his soul taste better in the end. sebastian is ugly. he is disgusting. he's fucked up, he's a groomer, he's not the good guy. a lot of people don't realize that sebastian is the villain of the entire story.

kuro does not "romanticize" anything. just because you did not like, or were personally uncomfortable by a depiction of something does not mean it was "romanticized". just like how a show depicting murder and cannibalism does not romanticize murder and cannibalism. you cannot pick and choose here, and you have to consume media critically. it's surprising how many people think a piece of media has to hold their hand and explicitly tell the viewer that "hey these things are bad!" in order for them to enjoy it, because only children's cartoons do that.

i've said it before and i'll say it again: you shouldn't have been a part of the Super Fucked Up and Dark Series fandom if you are only going to whine and complain about how super fucked up and dark it is.

it's just sad how there's so many people in this fandom who can't look into the deeper meaning of kuro only because they see the content as "romanticizing bad things".

#proship #proshippers please interact #anti anti #discourse #purity culture #fandom discourse #tw grooming mention #fandom problems

[tactfullyinappropriate]

This is part rant, part sex advice so read at your own discretion. Also one of those posts I'll get a lot of flak for.

In lesbian nsfw content on tumblr dot com one of the most prevalent sentiments is 'I want to pleasure my partner' (insert any variation on it) which is fair and all, and there are a lot of service tops around so it makes sense really. But. For some of us who have difficulty experiencing orgasm or even enjoying sex at all, making our pleasure the focal point of the experience is the absolute worst thing you could do.

It's a nice sentiment, I guess, but if it doesn't actually produce pleasure, is it really that nice? And before you come at me with 'some people really are just service tops and they get their pleasure from pleasuring their partner' - I get it, I do. As a top (or dom/me) you have the right to your preferences and you may absolutely refuse to tell your partner 'Your orgasm is inconsequential, I'm gonna fuck you anyway'. Not to mention that approach is verging on kinky and getting near mindfuck territory, which not every top (as in the person doing the penetration in this case) is comfortable with. Heck, not every dom/me is comfortable with that either - pretending to disregard your partner's pleasure can be a particular flavor of kink not everyone is into.

Buuut.. a lot of what I'm seeing here comes across more as a lack of real-world experience rather than a self-aware preference to focus on your partner's pleasure. Like for example, the amount of 'overstimulation' posts I'm seeing is just wildly disproportionate compared to the amount of women who can be forced to orgasm again and again, and again. This has never been my experience on either side of the dynamic, nor the experience of any of my friends or acquaintances. More often than not, women have trouble reaching a climax and can't really be "forced" into it.

Orgasms are not just a bodily sensation triggered by a certain type of mechanical stimulation. They require you to be in the right headspace as well. So if you actually want to bring about an orgasm, dropping the pressure may be (I want to say usually is) your best bet.

Look, I get it. I've been with women who come from a 2-minute clit rub. I didn't feel particularly accomplished with them... but they do exist! How wonderful for them and the people who just love pleasuring them. The rest of us however? 'Your pleasure is my pleasure' is the worst approach with us. Like, thanks, now if I don't come not only am I bruising your ego but also diminishing your pleasure? That's A LOT of pressure put on my fickle mental focus and unreliable vagina.

All of this is to say: it's fine to have your fantasies of overstimulating a partner to the point of incoherence. But be prepared that the reality of sex may be very, very different depending on how your partner's body and mind work. And sometimes, if your partner's pleasure really is that important to you, pretending it's the complete opposite might be the key to the castle - if you can get with that of course. Nothing's done a better job at helping me let go and experience actual pleasure than a partner's response to my 'I'm not sure if I can come though...':

"That's okay, baby. I don't need you to come for me to enjoy your body."

Um. Yes, Sir.

*I use the word 'woman' here purely based on my actual real-life experience so far but I'm sure this is applicable to a number of different identities. Even for some cis men orgasms are not as easy and effortless as porn makes it seem, I've been told.

#claudia says #wlw ns/ft #wlw bd/sm #wlw nsft #wlw ns/fw #sapphic ns/ft #sapphic nsft #sapphic bd/sm #sapphic ns/fw #lesbian #sapphic #wlw #stone butch #butch lesbian #butchfemme #butch dyke #butch #butch4femme #femme lesbian #high femme #butchfemme nsft

[honeybleed]

ARCHIVED.

I’ve had a lot of thought about this but I figured it’s time. I joined Tumblr not as somebody new because I’ve been on this app before. But as a writing blog inspired by amazing black authors who wrote for anime that I loved. I’ve given those girls their flowers and there was a real sense of community.

But I’d say the first two months of 2024 on Tumblr was the roughest. I can take accountability, I know I have not handled things the greatest. I have a pattern of fall outs and I have an abrasive personality. I have opinions that differ and I’m stubborn. That being said, the way I was treated by a lot of authors on here in the name of “kinks” and “dark content” when I merely said minors shouldn’t be involved with adult fantasies on here is and was unacceptable.

A lot of the people I disagreed with regarding that issue following Ezra and Tee either blocked me completely and probably sent around my user to their friends so I’m blocked by a LOT of authors on here because they think I’m a purist who hates dark content and it’s not a nice feeling. There’s really no point of me even being here if I’m treated like some social pariah and people want nothing to do with me. Actively attempting to alienate and push me out because I care about children welfare (yes, even fictional ones)

Lack of engagements which I know everybody experiences on here especially now fuels this too. I’m bitter, I know I write well but I notice I’m always the one trying to encourage other authors.

I don’t feel happy on here. Writing has always been my hobby but the fact I can’t even put anons on because I get a slew of slurs is not okay. What I answered differed greatly from what was truly in my inbox. I had a lot, and the humiliation of people tormenting my mutuals about me was just…yeah. Nobody can say my writing is bad or my blog is ugly. Nobody debates or argues with me. It’s straight to dehumanisation by calling me slurs. Like I’ve said before, as a child I experienced extreme racism in England so I guess slurs shouldn’t bother me.

But I guess what gets me is that everybody on here pretends to be all “uwu baby soft me and my blorbo” with the kaomojis and pastel pink but I know it’s mostly likely them. There was even a subpost regarding a post from Monica talking about the racial abuse we suffered and a majority of popular authors were laughing in the comments.

This is not about dark content. This is not about aging up because frankly i don’t care. i filtered out certain characters names n just went about my day, I spoke my peace about how I choose not to do that so do not use me as some soap box about that cos I’m not fighting battles cos people can’t do that themselves.

It’s not all negative. I love every friend I’ve made! I’m grateful for all the people who liked my work and made works I love. I’m happy I met so many people, I’ve laughed with them. In all the fall outs I’ve been in, I still have a certain degree of love for people I no longer talk to. If you want my disc just dm, I’ll still be around to read!

Deuces! I had fun!

pinned

[longing-for-rain]

you know what i noticed about kataang shippers is that, they have made multiple blogs (even titled in the url) fully dedicated to bashing zutara. like whole blogs full of nothing but hating zutara and everyone who ships it.

i don't see the reverse. yes, there are zutara blogs with lots of aang/kataang critical posts. but these blogs also have content that's focused on zutara (posting about the ship you actually do like! imagine that!) and most are content creators as well. i can't think of any blogs that are purely anti-kataang or even mostly anti-kataang.

idk to me it just seems like zutara shippers are better about staying in our lane and enjoying what we like instead of devoting *that* much energy to hating ✌️

Oh definitely, I think in the past few years I’ve seen two blogs called something along the lines of “Zutara isn’t canon” and post nothing but angry anons whining about people shipping Zutara. And of course, the “fandom police” guy who is very obviously a right winger poorly applying social justice concepts in an attempt to win ship discourse, and who thinks anything non-canon is stupid.

It’s funny because how do you miss the point of fandom this badly? It’s transformative. There are only so many ways to tell the exact same story. There is a reason why it’s very common for non-canon ships to be more popular among fans than canon. It taps into the creative aspect that so many of us enjoy.

And for Zutara specifically, I’m actually glad it isn’t canon. I like that it’s open-ended and that I’m free to write it however I want, because to be completely honest, I think the creators would have completely botched it if it was canon. I mean, I actually like Maiko quite a bit too but I don’t like how rushed their ending felt. I don’t like how it felt like Mai reappeared to be Zuko’s prize. And given the straight up creepy things I’ve heard the creators say about Zutara over the years, I have no doubt they would have made me hate it via poor writing.

Plus you’re right, at the end of the day, fandom is about enjoying what you want to enjoy. Making entire blogs dedicated to telling people they’re stupid because they don’t adhere to canon as if it’s a religious doctrine doesn’t seem like you’re enjoying yourself too much. Sure, I’ve made posts critical of tropes, characters, relationships, etc. that I don’t like, but ultimately I spend my energy on what I actually do like.

#anti kataang #zutara #atla #avatar the last airbender #ask #anon #fandom salt

[sequinsmile-x]

Bezel

He couldn't fix or change her past, but he could give her this.

-x-

Hi friends,

As we all know, I have a very famous lack of control. The lovely @eyesontheskyline posted a gif set and made a comment about Emily's giant watch in 2x20, my mind went haywire and once again here we are.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this - please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: Mentions/references to loss of a parent

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily sighs contently as she takes a sip of her beer, the coolness of it removing any last bits of tension in her shoulders that the case they’d resolved had created.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

She turns her head to look at Aaron and smiles as their eyes meet, his eyes soft in a way they rarely were outside of either of their homes or the hotel rooms they shared. There was something strangely empowering about him looking at her like that in front of their friends and it warms her from the inside out. She nods and reaches for his hand that is slung over her shoulders, linking their fingers together as she leans in to kiss him, the taste of the scotch he was drinking passing from his lips to hers. She smiles into the kiss when she hears the others groan, making a point of deepening it for a moment before she pulls away, squeezing his hand tightly as she leans in further to his side. 

“Okay, we get it, you guys are adorable,” Dave says dryly, a fond glint in his eyes as they both turn to look at him, “I think I preferred it when you two were pretending not to like each other.” 

“I didn’t,” Penelope says, her glee at seeing them together obvious, her entire body practically vibrating with it. Her gaze drifts to Emily’s bare wrist and her smile drops, the corners of her lips turning downwards into a slight pout, “Sorry about your watch, Peaches.” 

Emily looks at her wrist, her bare skin peeking out from underneath the sleeve of her shirt. Her watch had been damaged during the takedown of the unsub, the glass face of it smashed against the wall as he tried to evade arrest and shoved her out of his way. She’d cried out when it happened, more in shock at being pushed than anything else, her worst injury a slight graze of her palm against the brick wall, but it had been enough for Aaron to overreact. Her usually reserved and stoic boyfriend had briefly forgotten where they were and gone out of his way to make sure she was okay, barrelling into the room she was in as if he’d heard a gunshot, accidentally revealing their relationship to the team as he checked her over for injuries that didn’t exist. 

It was why she’d allowed herself to get dragged into going for drinks with the team when all she wanted to really do was snuggle up with Aaron in his bed or hers. The news had travelled fast and Penelope had called her before the unsub was even in the back of a cop car, demanding they all went out when they landed back in DC because she wanted to see them.  Aaron had been hesitant, his embarrassment at overreacting clear, but Emily had talked him into it. Her smile and a promise of later enough to convince him a few drinks with their friends was a good thing. 

They’d told them what they wanted to hear, answering their friend's questions in a way that still allowed them to keep their privacy. Emily felt a certain sense of pride blooming in her chest when they told them they’d been together 8 weeks without anyone noticing, although Dave claimed to have known the entire time. Even though Emily knew they would both miss their relationship just being for them, she liked sharing it with the people she cared about. It made it feel impossibly more real - the three words she hadn’t said outloud yet, the three he hadn’t said either, on the tip of her tongue. 

“Oh, that’s okay,” she says, smiling as her gaze drifts to where her hand is linked with Aaron’s for a second before she looks back up at her friends, “It wasn’t expensive. I have plenty of others” 

“Are you talking you expensive, or regular person expensive, Princess?” Derek asks, hiding a grin behind his beer, “Because those are two different things.” 

She laughs humourlessly as she makes a point of rolling her eyes. She makes eye contact with Penelope again and sighs when she sees that she still seems worried, a crease between her brows that lets Emily know her friend is still thinking about the smashed watch in her go-bag. 

“I mean it, Pen,” she assures her, “It’s just a watch, it’s not like held any great sentimental value.” 

There’s something about the way she says it that makes Aaron pause, his brows furrowing for just a second as he looks down at her, a smile still fixed on her face as she carries on talking to Penelope. Emily had always been very purposeful with everything she’d ever said. She’d been taught at an early age that words mattered, that everything had weight to it. She was never calculated, but she never said anything she didn’t mean, so it makes him curious and leaves him wondering if she meant that she did have a watch that held sentimental value. He files it away for later, sure that whatever it was it was something she wouldn’t want to share with the team. 

When they get back to his apartment, it’s late. They shower together, their laughter and muffled groans lost under the roar of the water, neither one of them wanting to wake Jack up by mistake. By the time they climb into bed, Emily is tired, her body relaxed and sated as she crawls half on top of him, her eyes already closed as she relaxes into his embrace. He hauls her closer and smiles as she giggles, a sound she’d deny if he ever brought it up, her hand fisted in his t-shirt as she anchors herself to him. 

“Can I ask you something?” He asks, his lips against her forehead as he trails his hand up and down her back. She hums as she settles further into his embrace, her arm over his waist and her leg over his hips. 

“Always,” she murmurs, turning her head just enough to kiss his chest, “But make it quick, the combination of the beer and your magic touch is sending me to sleep.”

Aaron chuckles and kisses her forehead, taking a moment to breathe her in before he asks the question he’d been thinking of since they were in the bar, “Earlier, you said the watch you broke today wasn’t sentimental. Does that mean you have one that is?” 

A part of her wonders if she should be annoyed that he noticed, that he was so good at his job it bled into their personal lives, but she can’t bring herself to be. Instead, she realises she wants to tell him, that she wants to reveal another part of herself to him simply because he’d asked.

“Do you remember that big watch I had?” She asks, her gaze locked on the wall of his bedroom, “It had a leather strap, the face of it was wider than my wrist.” 

He nods before realising she isn’t looking at him, “I remember.” 

“It was my dad’s watch. When he died…” she clears her throat and presses her lips together, giving herself a moment before she carries on, “My mom gave it to me. I kept it and one day I couldn’t find my watch so I wore it to work,” she lifts her head to look up at him, her hands on his chest as she rests her chin on them, “It was huge on me. Big and impractical and so obviously not made for me,” she chuckles, “But it made me feel weirdly close to him. Which probably sounds insane.” 

“It doesn’t,” he says, tucking some of her hair behind her ear, smiling encouragingly at her as she leans into the touch, “It doesn’t sound insane at all,” he assures her and her response is to turn her head to kiss his palm, “What happened to it?”

He’d picked up on how she was talking about it in the past tense, had seen the wistful look in her eyes as she thought about the watch. She smiles sadly and slips one of her hands into his, pressing their palms together to test the size difference. 

There was something comforting about how big he was in comparison to her, something about it that made her feel safe. She didn’t need him to protect her, didn’t need him to hold her together, but she wanted him to. She wanted to share things with him that she’d never shared with anyone because she knew nothing would scare him off. He’d seen the very worst of her and he was still here, he still wanted to know more. 

“It was sold with everything else when I died,” she says carefully, making sure to link their fingers together as she says it, hoping the way she squeezes his hand lets him know she doesn’t blame him, his guilt for making that decision for her still lingering every time it was mentioned, “I was surprised Mother didn’t take it - she was the one who got it for him. But…she had all my things sold,” she smiles sadly, a shaky breath slipping past her lips as she thinks about it. About how her mother had all but wiped any memory of her from the face of the earth. She knew it was likely a defence mechanism, a way of dealing with the fact her only child was dead, but Emily liked to think if it had been her she’d have made a different decision. 

Aaron drags her in for a quick kiss, his hand on her cheek as he encourages her closer to him, unable to bear to not kiss her any longer, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You deserved better than that.” 

She smiles and kisses him, letting her lips linger against his for a moment longer than necessary as she tries to convince herself that he’s right, drawing the comfort from him that only he had ever truly been able to provide. 

“I never understood their relationship. They loved each other, just not in the way I ever wanted to love someone,” she says, looking down at his chest again, at the random patterns she was drawing on his shirt as she willfully ignores the fact they hadn’t told each other how they felt yet. The words unspoken but felt in everything they did for each other, a gentle kind of love they both thought was beyond them, “Mom got Dad the watch for his 40th birthday. It had this engraving on the back of it - See You in Paris,” she smiles sadly as she sighs, “It was their favourite place. It’s where I always remember them being at their happiest.” 

“Paris?” 

She laughs, an edge of bitterness to it as she nods, “Yeah, Paris,” she says, her eyebrow raised as she looks at him, “The universe has a sense of humour apparently.”  

There’s so much he wants to say, an apology he knows she won’t accept trapped in his chest as he stares at her, but in the end he settles on kissing her, pulling back just enough to speak as he rests his forehead against hers.

“Thank you for telling me.” 

She smiles, familiar love for him burning in her chest, desperately trying to escape as she presses her lips together to hold it in place, still worried it was too soon to say anything. 

“Thank you for asking,” she replies quietly, kissing him once more before she rests her head on his chest, sighing contentedly as he wraps his arms around her. He immediately re-starts running his hand up and down her back, the warmth of him drawing her in, making her feel heavy and light in equal measure, “Goodnight, honey.” 

He hides a smile in her hairline as she yawns and he kisses her forehead, “Goodnight, sweetheart.” 

He lays there as she falls asleep against him, an idea forming in his mind before he joins her, his grip on her never loosening.

___

Aaron pauses outside Penelope’s office, his hand frozen in place as he hesitates to knock, wondering if he is making the right decision. Before he can talk himself out of it the door swings open and Penelope shrieks, her eyes wide as she places her hand on her chest. 

“Sir, sorry,” she says, clearing her throat before she steps back to let him into her office, “I wasn’t expecting to see you.” 

“That’s okay,” he says as he closes the door behind him, “I wanted to ask you something-”

“If this is about the checks I did on Henry’s school, I was only checking if-”

“No, it’s not about…” he frowns as he trails off, raising his eyebrow at her, “Should it be about that?” 

She shakes her head, “No definitely not,” she says, taking a seat at her desk, “How can I help?” 

He sighs, scratching the back of his head, hesitancy he doesn’t like washing over him, “If I ask you to look for something for me, can it just be between us?” 

Penelope’s eyes go wide, the idea of being in on a secret exciting her, “Of course,” she says, before she gasps, her eyes somehow even wider, “Is this Emily related?” 

He hides a groan as he shoves his hands into his pockets, “Yes.” 

Penelope covers her mouth, physically holding her excitement in as she shifts closer to him on her chair, “Oh my god, are you going to propose?” She asks, and he glares at her, his stern gaze forcing her to calm down, “Okay, no proposal…yet,” she says, “How can I help?” 

“When Emily…” he clears his throat, “When she died all of the things in her estate were sold on in an auction. Do you think you could track one of those things down for me?” 

He sees the flash of pain across her face, how she struggles to push it away before she nods, “Just tell me what you need bossman, and I’ll find it.” 

He smiles gratefully at her and pulls a slip of paper out of his pocket, all of the details about the watch written down on it, “And remember-”

“Not a word of this to Peaches or anyone else,” she says as she takes the piece of paper from him, a sense of determination overtaking her as she turns back to her computer, and he knows this is one secret Penelope Garcia will keep.

___

“Are you sure I can’t help with anything?” Emily asks, smiling as Aaron meets her eyes from  where he’s standing. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, giving her a delicious hint of his forearms, the muscles shifting under his skin from where he’s washing dishes. 

“I’m all done, sweetheart,” he says, reaching for a dish towel and drying off his hands, “Do you need more wine?”

She shakes her head and grumbles, “What I need is my boyfriend to come over here and make out with me.” 

He chuckles and nods, pulling one of the drawers in his kitchen open, blowing out a quick breath before he lifts the large jewellery box out from where he’d hidden it under a towel. The search for the watch had been a little tricker than he’d hoped. In the last couple of weeks, he’d almost given up hope, and at times he’d only been bolstered by Penelope’s seemingly unending optimism that she’d find it. When she did she’d called him, her excitement so loud Emily had heard her from his phone while standing on the other side of the room. He’d brushed off her curiosity and was grateful when she didn’t ask any further questions. The nerves he’d felt when he first thought of doing this for her return in full throttle as he walks over to the couch, a piece of her history gripped firmly in his hand. 

“Before we get to that,” he says, sitting next to her, holding the box out so she can see it, “I got you something.” 

She hums curiously and sits up straight, placing her glass of wine down before she takes the box from him, “I haven’t forgotten our 10-week anniversary or something have I?” 

He chuckles and shakes his head, his hand heavy and warm on her thigh, “Is that a thing?” 

She shrugs, “If it is, I owe you a blow…” she drifts off, her joke dying in her throat as she opens the box, her mouth hanging open as he looks at the watch. She chokes on a laugh as she looks between him and the watch, words escaping her for a moment as she shakes her head, the conversation they’d had a couple of weeks ago coming back to her, “They don’t even make this model anymore.” 

Aaron squeezes her thigh as he watches her run her finger over the bezel, her touch delicate as if she’d damage the steel, “It’s not a duplicate sweetheart,” he says gently, his smile soft as she looks up at him, her eyes shining, “It’s your dad’s.” 

She frowns as she pulls the watch out of the box and turns it over, her breath catching in her chest as she looks at the engraving on the back, as if she hadn’t quite believed him until she saw it. 

See You In Paris

She presses her thumb into it, and feels the dips and curves of the metal, a habit she’d picked up when her mother first gave it to her. One of the few ways she felt close to her father after she lost him. She looks up at Aaron, her vision blurry as tears push at the back of her eyes. 

“Aaron…” she breathes out, his name caught on a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh, “How did you find this?” 

He shrugs as if it’s nothing, as if he hasn’t just given her back a piece of herself she thought was lost, “I asked Garcia to help,” he says, smiling when her eyes get wider, “She found the guy who bought it and I bought it back from him.” 

She holds the watch tightly as if it would disappear and presses it against her chest. She closes her eyes and blows out a shaky breath. She places her other hand over her mouth, her fingers pressed against her lips as she tries to gather herself, her nerves shot at the unexpected kindness and love he’d shown her. 

He watches her carefully, his eyes fixed on her face as she sits perfectly still, the watch grasped against her chest and her eyes screwed shut. Anxiety bubbles in his gut and he squeezes her leg, “Sweetheart, if this was a bad idea-”

“I love you,” she says, her eyes flying open as she cuts over him. Tears splash down onto her cheeks as she laughs and shakes her head. She looks at the watch and then back at him, her spare hand cupping his cheek as she drags him into a kiss, “This is…this is the best thing anyone has ever done for me. And I love you so much.” 

He smiles and hugs her close, her hand with the watch still clasped in it pressed in between them. He kisses her temple and then her cheek before he tilts her head up to kiss him.

“I love you too,” he replies, kissing her again, “I love you.” 

She laughs, the sound wet as it sticks in her throat, and he wipes some tears from her cheeks, “Thank you,” she says, the words not feeling anywhere close to enough as she rests her forehead against his, “This is…” she blows out a shaky breath, “Thank you.” 

“You don’t have to thank me,” he says, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “I can’t give you the 7 months you lost back,” he says, tucking some of her hair behind her ear, “And I can’t undo anything you’ve been through,” he wraps his hand around the one holding the watch, “But I can do this.” 

She shakes her head at him and rests her cheek on his shoulder, “I love you,” she says again, the words she’d been afraid of saying for weeks suddenly the only thing she could say, slipping past her lips with ease now she’d said them. 

“I love you too,” he repeats, running his hand up and down her back. She sinks into his embrace, her eyes closed as she breathes him in.

“I can’t believe Pen didn’t let it slip,” she says as she pulls back, wiping her cheeks, “She’s terrible with secrets.” 

He laughs loudly, the sound reverberating around them and he nods, “Well, I think I won’t be so lucky if I get her to help me propose when the time comes.”

She presses her lips together to stop her smile from getting any wider, the thought of marrying him, even this early on in their relationship, not scaring her as she knows it would with anyone else, “I think she might surprise you.” 

When they get married 18 months later, Aaron wears her father’s watch, the weight of it against his wrist feeling like a promise as he watches Emily walk towards him. 

-x-

I think I might have to add 'watch' to the list of inanimate objects I've made emotional thanks to these two...

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#aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotchniss fanfic #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner fanfiction #emily prentiss fanfiction #aaron hotchner #hotchniss fan fic #hotchniss fanfiction #aaron x emily #hotchniss

[licorice-tea]

Seaside Rendezvous

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x reader

Content: fluff, a little angst, unrequited feelings/ miscommunication, not rlly unrequited

Word Count: 0.6k

A/N: Heyyyyyy….. it’s been a while, huh? life has been busy and difficult and amazing and everything in between, but i just wanted to post something (even if i feel like it’s not my best work😓) i might be more active after like 2 weeks, but it’s also finals season rn :o anyway, miss you guys and miss writing! looking forward to getting back into tumblr, and i hope you enjoy!

It’s a clear and overwhelmingly blue sort of day. You walk along the beach, beneath a cloudless sky, which creates calm waters to push gently foaming waves onto the shoreline. They soak your feet while you amble on, shoes in one hand and a single bag of groceries in the other. And Sanji’s signature blue pinstripe shirt makes him look even more picturesque than usual- a perfect man against a perfect backdrop.

He’s less than an arms distance to your right, with at least 4 bags in each hand, plus a tote under his arm. But you feel there is no point in offering to hold a few, since he had already refused when you initially left the market. That was half an hour ago, and you’ve been merely contemplating your feelings up till now. You’ve always felt something for Sanji, it’s just hard to say what exactly. He flirts so shamelessly and often that understanding your own emotions is nearly impossible. Are they a matter of genuine affection (beyond friendship), or simply flare-ups of lust inspired by how much he seems to want you?

Even if you could know how you truly feel for Sanji, your longtime crew mate and friend, it wouldn’t matter for that very reason. If anything, it might be worse to know how real your affections for him are than it is to continue pushing them to the back of your mind silent, contemplative moments.

But Sanji makes that impossible, too.

“What’s on your mind?”

Your eyes leave the sand to meet his mirth- crinkled eyes. “Nothing, why?”

He manages to shrug beneath the weight of the groceries. “You were being quiet, that’s all.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Don’t be, dearest.”

You avert your eyes before mumbling, “Are you sure you don’t want help with those bags?”

“I don’t need help, but thank you. And,” he smiles a little brighter, “I’d hate to ever burden you, love.”

“Sanji, don’t say things like that.”

“Oh? I thought you enjoyed my terms of endearment for you.”

You shake your head no. “Not if they aren’t serious.”

Sanji’s expression turns from content, to confused, then surprised, while he slowly comes to a stop. Once you’ve notice he’s no longer walking by your side, you turn back in time to see him finally settle on a gleeful smile.

“You’d like it… if you knew I was serious?”

“W-Well… I guess, yeah. Not that I-“

“Because I am serious about you. I always have been, really.”

Now you’re the one who’s confused. “What?”

He rushes to drop the groceries, followed by the tote bag on his shoulder, and approaches you. Sanji guides you to drop your own load, too, before taking your hands in his.

“Would you be mine?”

“Sanji, you’re being ridiculous now…”

“I’m being genuine. Why, you don’t want to?”

“Well I mean, I would if I could, but I can’t. We can’t.” You let go of his hands and pick up your shoes and singular grocery bag, then straighten up and look into his eyes. He smiles sadly, and you just smile back before walking on.

He knows you don’t mean to hurt his feelings, especially since you seem to barely believe that said feelings for you could be real or serious. But it does hurt a little. Sanji sighs as he picks up his bags. He follows you and watches your hair bounce with your steps.

For now, he’d have to be content with letting his imagination run away with thoughts of loving you.

#fanfic #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece x you #x reader #sanji vinsmoke x reader #sanji x you #sanji oneshot #sanji fluff #sanji angst #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader