#i've got bloody hair so you can love me

[heavensickness]

Chi no Wadachi

[entitled-fangirl]

In time.

Cregan Stark x reader

Summary: Cregan learns to be a father.

Warnings: childbirth, pain, talk of blood, mentions of sex

A/n: This one is so short and sweet!

Masterlist

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Cregan couldn't take the sounds of her screams anymore, so he thanked the gods when the door to their chambers opened.

"How is she?" He immediately asked the maester.

"She's doing well, my lord-"

"Is she?" He smiled, focused on the man as he spoke every word.

"Yes, and congratulations. It's a girl."

His eyes widened and his hand came up to his forehead, "A g… a girl?" 

The maester nodded, "And quite healthy."

"Thank the gods," he smiled. "Can I…?"

"Of course, my lord. She's still weak, but awake."

Creagn wasted no time, moving into the room and searching for her.

She laid on the bed in her own sweat, still panting as a midwife took the bloody sheets away.

Cregan moved to her with a smile. 

She smiled as well when she saw him, "Cregan."

"Hello, my love." He sat on the bed, taking her hand in his.

"I did it, Cregan."

"You fought hard. Like a northerner." he cooed at her. He reached up and brushed a sweaty strand of hair from her head.

She relaxed at his touch, "A girl."

"So I've heard. Probably beautiful like her mum."

"Why don't you find out?"

Cregan followed her gaze to the small bundle of blankets in the midwife's arms. He held out his arms hesitantly. 

The midwife corrected his arms and placed the baby in his grasp.

He let out a soft breath at the sight of the girl's eyes. A deep blue like his.

"Let me see, please."

Cregan moved back to her side, light tears falling down his cheeks.

She cooed at him, wiping a tear from his face.

"You did so well, my girl." He cried. "Thank you."

…

The days passed, but Cregan stayed as excited two weeks later as he had on the first day. 

He spent his days either at his wife's side, or by the cradle, putting every other worry of the north on hold.

He held his wife close in bed deep into the night when a cry woke the two.

He murmured groggily, "Keep sleeping. I'll get her."

He neared the crib, pulling the babe up and against his broad chest.

The babe relaxed at the warm feeling of Cregan, forgetting why she had begun to cry in the first place. 

He rocked her slowly, cooing into the babe's ear.

She wife got up quietly, pulling her arms around the man's waist and resting against his back.

He grinned, "Sleep. It's only the hour of the wolf."

"Can't sleep when you do that."

He tilted his head, "Do what?"

She hummed, "When you're so natural with her."

"That keeps you awake?"

"Keeps my thoughts going."

He smirked as he turned to look at her, "To where?"

"Places they should not go."

He let out a light chuckle, "It's only been two weeks."

"There are more ways than one to find pleasure, is there not?"

"You're playing with fire."

She teased, "Then I hope to get burned."

A low growl sounded from him, "Oh, you will."

The growl caused the babe to wail out.

She reached forward instinctively, taking the babe from his arms and into her own. She rocked the girl back and forth. 

Cregan watched with a light fascination. So natural. 

She shifted uncomfortably, "She must need fed. Perhaps we'll have to reschedule that, Cregan."

He smiled, "That's alright."

"I'm sorry."

He leaned forward to brush a kiss to the crown of her head, "Don't be. I have a lifetime with you, and only a small amount with the babe this small."

She nodded. "In time."

"In time, my girl."

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I'm making a Cregan Stark tag list! Comment if you want on it!

Cregan Stark taglist: @nyxbranwenn

[hellsenthero]

Kinktober Day 5: Overstimulation

Moon Knight System X Reader

Kinktober Masterlist

---

You smile up at your sweet, sweet boyfriend. His brown eyes wide with adoration. Just looking up at his little dopey smile, you know that it's Steven that's fronting.

"Enjoy your nap, love?"

"Yeah," you answer as you nuzzle your face into his palm. He's leaning over you, one hand propping himself up while the other gently cups your face.

"I've been waiting for you to wake up for a while now." Steven admits.

"Oh?" Steven nods, his dark hair falling in front of his face. "You have something planned?" You ask.

Steven shrugs a shoulder before leaning down and kissing you softly. "Not really, just miss your company."

"You were napping with me, Steven." You laugh out.

"Yeah, but I want more." You don't need to ask what more means. You can tell by the way Steven trails his lips down your neck, mouthing at your pulse point.

"Is someone feeling a little needy?" You tease.

"No." Steven says.

"Oh, so I guess I can get on with my day then?" You ask as you push Steven away from your neck. You nearly coo at the little whine he let's out.

"Yes," Steven admits quickly. He's always quick to fold. "I'm needy. Been missing you."

"Baby," you coo. "That's all you had to say."

No more words are spoken for a while as Steven trails his hands up your shirt. Skimming his fingers up your naked torso. He nips and sucks at your neck like a child with their pacifier. Your own hands run up his naked back, trailing through the ends of his hair and lightly pulling. You're quick to capture the moan Steven let's out with your mouth.

"Bloody hell," Steven breathes out as he pulls away from the kiss. His hands make their way to your underwear, having taken your pants off before getting into bed earlier for your nap."I need you, darling."

"You got me, baby." You tell him as you shimmy out of your underwear. They're damp with your arousal and Steven is quick to toss them off the bed along with his own.

"Just wanna be in you, love." Steven admits.

"Go for it." You tell him, but he's quick to shake his head.

"No, love. Gotta prep you, yeah."

"Steven," you whine as he slips a finger inside of you.

"Been waiting for this for a while." Steven tells you as he thrusts his finger inside of you. He adds a second finger when you start to tilt your hips down towards his hand. "Now you gotta wait just a bit, love."

"Steven," you warn. Wanting nothing more than his cock in you right now.

"Almost there, love."

After adding a third finger and thoroughly teasing you, Steven slips his fingers out of you and lines his cock up at your entrance. He's slow to push in, much unlike his alters, Steven likes to take his time entering you.

"Oh God," You moan.

"Not God, love, just me." Steven says rather cheekily.

You laugh as you move to meet his thrust. "I need you to pick up the pace."

"You got it love." Steve says and true to his word, his next thrust comes faster and harder than the last. "Like that?"

"Yes," You hiss in pleasure as Steven continues to fuck you. When it comes to sex, hard and fast isn't typically Steven's style. But he likes anything that brings you pleasure and today that's this. "So good, Stevie."

"Oh love," Steven coos. "Feel so good wrapped around me. Gonna make me come."

"Do it." You order.

"Not without you. Gotta make you come."

"I'm close," you whine. "So close." Your hands grab onto Steven's ass, pulling him in closer. "Gonna come, Stevie."

"Oh love, come for me." Steven begs. You moan and cry out as you reach your climax, crying Steven's name just as you feel him reach his own end, filling you up with his spend.

You expect Steven to pull out next. To get started on cleaning the two of you up and laying down for cuddles. But instead he's lifting your legs over his shoulders, his cock still hard inside of you.

"Steven!" You shout as his cock hits even deeper into you.

"Try again." A deep voice orders. You look up to meet your boyfriend's gaze and you can tell that Steven is no longer the one looking back at you. Marc is fronting now and he doesn't seem to be satisfied the way Steven was.

"Marc," you lament.

"There we go." Marc chuckles. "Thought you were done?" He asks.

"Wasn't expecting you." You tell him truthfully.

"Oh, would you rather Steven come back?" He asks. Despite his hard cock inside of you, you know that if you said yes that Marc would get Steven back in the body instantly.

"No, aa long as he's not upset. I know he likes our down time after sex."

"He does," Marc says as he slowly thrusts his cock in and out of you. "But he's happy to watch, too." Marc leans down and kisses you. It's different from Steven, harder, but still tender. "Let's give him a show."

You can't help but cry out in shoke and pleasure as Marc gives a hard thrust into your channel. Your hand comes down to grab the meat of his thigh and your sure that the both of you are going to have bruises from each other once this is done. "You know," Marc grunts as he fucks you. His hair falls into his eyes but he doesn't move it, his hands stay wrapped tightly around your ankles, holding them over his shoulders. "I've been watching for a while now. Watching you moan and cry for Steven."

"Oh fuck," you babble. Your eyes close in pleasure for a moment before opening back up and meeting Marc's dark gaze.

"All I could think while I watched you get split a part on his cock was that I could do a better job."

"Marc!" You cry as you quickly reach your second orgasm. Still sensitive from Steven, you're quick to climax a second time.

"Now I gotta show him how a real man does it." Marc says before crashing his mouth onto yours. Your kiss is dirty, a mess of teeth and tongues. Your hands reach up for his dark strands of hair, pulling and grabbing.

"So good, Marc. So good." Your words are slurred with pleasure, more babbling than anything. But Marc answers you still.

"Gonna come inside of you, baby. Gonna pump you full. You'll be leaking with me."

"Fuck Marc please!" You beg.

"Fuck baby, take it!" Marc orders. His grip on you tightens as he reaches his end. "Fucking take my cock, take my come!" Marc groans as he comes inside of you. Leaning down his his face buried in your neck. Marc pulls his cock free of you and you whine at the emptiness despite feeling the beginnings of being overstimulated. You don't register that he's moved again until you feel a mouth at your entrance, a tongue licking up the come that leaks out of you.

"Fuck!" You cry as you jolt back, further into the pillows. "Too much!"

The licking stops for a moment before you hear your boyfriend speak. But it's not Marc that speaks this time, but Jake. "Common princess, you can handle it. Just tryna clean you up a bit." You don't get a chance to answer before you feel Jake's mouth back at you entrance, lucking and sucking you clean. You squirm away, for back into the headboard, but Jake is quick to grab onto your legs and pull you back to were he kneels between your open legs. He doesn't appreciate you trying to take away his little treat and pinches your thigh in warning. "Stop moving." He orders before he continues to suck your fucking soul out of your body.

"Jake!" You yell. You yell loud enough for the neighbour's to hear, no doubt giving them the idea you're having one hell of a foursome. Your next release comes so fast it's nearly painful. There's no more of the slow, teasing buildup. "Too much," you sob just as Jake pulls away from between your legs. His right hand rubs you leg gently, a stark contrast to his attitude earlier.

"Too much?" He asks with a faux pout.

"Too much, Jake."

"Okay, " Jake says softly. "In that case just one more then." You don't get a chance to answer before his mouth is back on you. Licking and sucking and devouring. Somewhere in the back of your mind you know that your boyfriend is full of his when he says just one more, but you can't complain. Not too much, at least. Not when he's making you feel so good. Your body is limp and your half conscious by the time your faith, six? Climax comes barrling through you. Jake's mouth must be sore, he's been at it for a long time, but he doesn't say so.

"Too much." You whimper. Your limp hand gives a weak attempt at pushing Jake's head away, but it quickly falls flat on the bedsheets.

"I know, princess. All done." You breath out at the promise of an end. You're more than ready to take another nap now, to go back to sleep and not wake up for hours. You're just about to do so when your boyfriend's voice has you peaking your eyes open at him. "We're all done." He promises again. "Just as soon as I get one more from you." He says with a smirk before diving back into your center.

[wileys-russo]

I had a cute idea I wanted to share because I love the way you write!! Leah has back to back interviews from home and reader is sat on the sofa just watching her, falling more and more in love with how passionate her girl is. Leah gets all blushy and a bit flustered by the gaze. Just a cute fluffy one x

lock down II l.williamson

"-and then i've got another over zoom with sky sports at three and i should be done for the day." your girlfriend sighed, already tired by her day before it had even begun.

"no rest for the wicked huh?" you hummed, still laid down in bed as the blonde restlessly paced back and forth across the room. "god then i've gotta fit in our gym program too! do you mind if we do it tonight? i know we're not supposed to but that at least gives me a few hours in between." leah groaned in realization.

"leah breath! of course i don't mind babe, its more enjoyable when we do the program together anyway. i'm more than sure we can push it back a few hours and it shouldn't affect the stats too much." you assured her gently as the blonde nodded.

"so much for lock down! everyone's watching bloody netflix and making tiktoks but noo im memorizing scripts and listening to the same witty one liner over and over about how hard it must be to 'work from home' as a footballer." leah mocked, falling backwards onto the bed with a huff.

"but is it?" you questioned as she sat up slightly and turned her head to be able to see you. "is it what?" leah asked with a confused frown. "is it hard to work from home as a footballer?" you questioned with a frown of your own.

one which quickly turned into a grin as your girlfriend lunged at you, ducking your head under the covers as her bony fingers poked and prodded at you, your safety blanket ripped away as the blonde hovered over you.

"you think you're so fucking funny." leah rolled her eyes as your grin grew. "well one of us has to have a sense of humor in this relationship baby, you're not called captain grumpy for nothing." you teased, tapping your lips expectantly.

"cheeky girl." leah tutted but none the less gave into your request, pressing her lips to yours as your hands moved to tangle in her hair, deepening the kiss as she settled on top of you.

but no sooner did the taller girl slip her tongue into your mouth, hands gliding slowly up your bare stomach, did her alarm go off.

"why!" leah pulled away and groaned moodily, flopping down and burying her face in your neck making you chuckle and gently scratch your nails against her scalp as you tapped snooze.

"babe this isn't making me anymore inclined to get up." your girlfriend mumbled against your skin making you smile. "what if i promise to make breakfast and have it ready for when your first interviews done?" you whispered into her hair, squirming as the girl sighed.

"might be working a little." leah admitted making you laugh and press a kiss to her cheek. "mm and what if i make your favorite breakfast?" you hummed, still rhythmically scratching at her scalp.

"the williamson special?" she questioned, the words muffled into your neck but you laughed again. "the williamson special. an omelette with ham, cheese and not a single spec of colour, flavour or vegetables." you teased, squealing as she pinched your hip but pulled her head up.

"you promised not to mock my eating habits." the older girl frowned with a pout that you quickly kissed away. "no i promised not to mock them last week, todays monday. brand new day of opportunity!" you grinned, pushing her hands away where they tickled at the sliver of skin where your shirt had rode up.

"first my speech impediment and now my diet. you really are a wicked awful woman!" leah sighed with a shake of her head as you scoffed.

"my love we've been over this. you don't have a speech impediment, you're just from milton keynes." you whispered against her lips, pulling away right before they could press against hers, pushing her off of you and moving to stand with a stretch.

"now my beloved MK, you're going the right way for the silent treatment missy." leah pointed at you with a glare as you oohed sarcastically. "tempting. is that a promise?" you winked, laughing as she lurched forward and grabbed the back of your top tugging you back down into bed.

"you are very lucky you're cute." your girlfriend tutted from above you, shaking her head. "and you're very lucky i'm so patient." you poked at her nose with an amused smile as leah gasped in mock offence, your girlfriend nothing if not the expert at annoying you.

"you wait for the third one and you won't have time to shower lee." you warned, pushing her fringe out of her face with a soft smile as she leaned over you to tap stop on the second alarm on her phone and looked down at you with a cheeky grin.

"in that case, wanna save some water?"

~

you were trying to concentrate on your own laptop, you really were.

in the spirit of having nothing better to do locked away in your home you'd signed up for an online accounting course, with leah already studying a much higher qualification in the same field she'd been a massive help.

but why would you waste your time looking at tax brackets and finance breakdowns when you could stare at your incredibly fit gorgeous girlfriend who was sat only a few metres away in your direct eyeline.

you smiled at how she threw and flailed her hands about as she spoke, always one to speak expressively and passionately as she was recounting a story from her childhood when she'd played on a boys team and was relentlessly pushed about for being 'just too good'.

it was one of the first things that had you falling deeply for the older girl, how passionate she was. not just about football but with anything she put her mind and heart to, including how fiercely she loved.

not just how she loved you, but how she loved her family, loved football, loved her friends, the girl could be a handful and a stubborn headache at times but nobody could deny that she was also one of the most sincere and loving human beings you'd ever met.

so with that in mind you sighed quietly, a dopey smile on your face as you pined over her like a lovesick puppy, something the pair of you were often teased about by your team mates but it just washed over you like water off a ducks back, both of you far too loved up in your little bubble to pay it any mind.

in fact without leah you were certain you'd have long lost your mind amid this pandemic, the blonde finding little ways every day to make you still feel so special or to have you smile or laugh, two things which rapidly became her favorite reward.

just yesterday she'd woken you up with breakfast in bed and a bunch of flowers just because.

granted she did order the breakfast from a local cafe which was still operating for delivery and you couldn't prove it but you were near certain that she'd stolen the flowers from some of your neighbors front yards on her morning walk.

regardless you were touched by the thoughtful gesture and showered her with sweet kisses as a thank you, even if leah did eat nearly all of your breakfast much to your amusement given it was hardly up to her usual bland unseasoned standards.

you leaned back a little more into the sofa and crossed your legs underneath you, balancing your laptop on a cushion on your lap, a soft smile plastered permanently into your features.

once or twice leah caught your eyes staring over the top of her own laptop, sending you a small grin or a subtle wink before her attention returned back to the interviewer.

you heard him say that the next game would be a drawing one, sliding your laptop away and hurrying to grab a notebook and pen, placing them beside leah who mouthed her thanks as you took a seat across from her at the dining table.

leah gave you a questioning look as you did so but you merely shrugged, gesturing for her to pay attention as she tuned back into the interview. you watched as she was told to draw her wembley stadium, competing against the interviewer.

you smiled as you took her in, the way her eyebrows furrowed in concentration, nostrils flaring in annoyance every now and then as she was unhappy with a stroke of her pen, a small puff of air exhaled from the corner of her mouth as the tip of her tongue pushed out the other side.

you took a photo of her and smiled, placing your phone back down and resting your chin on your hand. leah could feel your stare on her and as she revealed her drawing and you grinned as the tips of her ears and cheeks flushed red.

"stop!" she mouthed at you as you shook your head, still staring at her in admiration as her attention switched back to the interview. finally after what felt like hours of your gaze pinned to her leah was able to wrap it up, saying her goodbyes and clicking end call on the zoom, pushing her laptop closed.

"what?" you smiled innocently as the blonde sat back in her chair and shook her head at you. "you have a staring problem!" she accused with a point as you gasped and held a hand to your chest.

"i do not. i wasn't staring, i was admiring!" you clarified as leah hummed, her chair pushing back with a scrape. "cheeky." leah clicked her tongue as you followed after her to the kitchen, kissing her still slightly pink cheek with a smile as she grabbed a juice out from the fridge.

"leah!" you scoffed as you held your hand out for it to take a mouthful and she slapped her palm against yours with a wink.

last one, sorry babe." the blonde smirked as your mouth formed a small o. "those are mine!" you protested, rushing around the counter and trying to snatch it off her as she pushed you away effortlessly with one hand and downed the juice with the other.

"you are so unbel-" you started to tell her off as she exhaled happily and tossed the empty bottle into the recyling bin with a happy whoop as it landed. "no no wait, let me guess." her finger smushed against your lips silencing you as she stroked her chin as if deep in thought.

"unbelievably sexy?" silence. "no? okay. unbelievably charming?" silence again. "wrong again? mmm unbelievably intelligent?" more silence. "wow thought i had it there. unbelievably-" you wrenched her hand away at that and shook your head.

"unbelievably infuriating!" you rolled your eyes as leah smacked her forehead with a scoff. "that was my next guess!" she tutted with a shake of her head as you sighed, a small smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

"hey hey don't get all stroppy. there's still three more in there i was only teasing." leah grabbed your waist and pulled your shorter form into her, a noise of surprise leaving your mouth as her hands hooked under your thighs and she hoisted you up to sit on the counter as she settled between your legs.

"how about the williamson special right now?" leah smiled, thumb tracing your bottom lip as you gave her a look of slight confusion. "you want another omelette?" you questioned as your girlfriend shook her head.

"no no baby girl, the real williamson special." leah rasped, hands toying with the waistband of your sweats as you caught onto what she was suggesting.

"mmm and whats that? my memory needs a jog." you hummed, a smile settling onto your own face as the girl leaned in, minty breath fanning your face as her lips were millimeters from yours.

"mind blowingly passionate sex with a guaranteed happy ending, and then-" your eyes fluttered closed as she moved to kiss at your neck, lips trailing from your jaw down to the column of your throat, biting softly before she moved to tug at the lobe of your ear.

"-then we eat potato smileys in bed naked and watch the golf." leah exhaled as you moaned playfully.

"god i love it when you talk dirty to me."

[weasleyreidstyles]

between the shelves

for @thatdammchickennugget's hogmarch challenge!!

prompt 1: "is it that, or is it because you're in love with me?"

pairing: theodore nott x reader (no house specified)

warning(s): none

~∞~ a short little drabble – i've never written anything for theo so i thought i'd give it a shot.

There are many beautiful mysteries within the castle walls. That includes Hogwarts' expansive library that holds every book one could think of, and more. It's earthy tones and the smell of ink on parchment paper permeates the air at all hours of the day and the rustle of books is the only sound, besides idle chit chat that fills the vast room.

Right now, you despise the library.

The table that you and your potions partner had chosen was small and crammed into a corner of two towering bookshelves and the heat that magically swept through the room seemed to be set to sweltering hot as you sat, clinging to the fabric sleeves of your cardigan, which you refused to remove. There are potions books strewn across the table, which you absolutely abhor to look at, especially as his deft finger trace featherlight patterns against the worn covers as he jots a note down onto a separate piece of parchment for the assignment the two of you have been tasked with completing.

It all seems physically impossible. The fact that you're totally abysmal at potions, paired with the way Theodore Nott made you so nervous. Sitting in the sweltering library with him, is the last place you want to be right now.

He was one of the most popular boys in your year. Star quidditch player; top of all his classes without even having to try; he had more friends than you had fingers and he was just so godsdamn attractive. Everyone either wanted him, or wanted to be him in some capacity. Sometimes when you looked at him, jealousy festered in your gut because how can he sit in lessons so nonchalantly, but still remain just below Hermione Granger in all of them? And how can someone be made to be that fucking attractive?

It was not fair.

But more often than not, when you catch yourself staring at him (it happens more frequently than you'd care to admit) you find yourself constantly picking out the little things about him that make your heart soar.

Like the way his nose twitches irritably when his slightly curled hair falls over his eyes, yet he refuses to get it cut shorter.

Or the way his mouth tilts into a devious smirk that has people swooning instantly.

When he's on the quidditch pitch, his agility could rival the professional. He was truely a real talent and he could have an amazing future career, you think.

But the most fascinating thing about him are his eyes. Theodore has the most captivating eyes you've ever seen. They are a kaleidoscope of blues and greys that you find yourself wishing to get lost in.

Unbeknownst to you, Theo looks up from his note taking and watches as you stare off into space, the potions book in front of you long forgotten. His lips lift into that arrogant smirk that you seem to admire quite a lot as he abandons his own work in favour of staring you down.

You must be miles away in your own mind because you barely concentrate on the fact that he's looking so deeply at you, that he may as well have been staring right at the makings of your very soul.

"Have you got a staring problem, dolcezza?" he asks, his deep voice a mixture of smooth and raspy. It makes your heartbeat pick up in speed as you're jolted from your wandering thoughts.

"I'm bored." You mumble, moving your hands, which are resting on your lap, to lay upon the table so that you can lie your head down. "Potions is so draining and it's so bloody hot in here."

"Is that it, or is it because you're in love with me?"

You sit up abruptly, eyes wide and mouth threatening to gape like a fish out of water as he merely stares back at you with his brows slightly raised. His smirk is widening, almost to a full blown grin. Gods he's so pretty, is all you can think as you roll your eyes at him.

He lets out the lightest of snickers as you ignore him and open your abandoned book, in favour of evading his gaze. But he could already see the blush crawling further and further across your cheeks.

"You can admit it if you want to, darling." He says teasingly, his voice is arrogant and silky and it makes you blush even more. "I don't blame you. Everyone seems to be in love with me."

He smiles prettily at you as you glare at him from across the table.

"No one like an egotistical brat, Theodore." you retort, but there's no bite in your words – there never is when it comes to him. And as he stares you down, you swear you can see the reciprocation in his gaze, but it's gone almost instantly when he turns back to his own notes.

One day, you'd tell him how you felt.

Today was not that day.

[avocado-writing]

Okay, I've had this idea bouncing around in my head, waiting for you to reopen suggestions, haha. How do you think the Origins Companions + Halsin, Rolan, Dammon, and Zevlor would react if they found out that Tav had been hiding a very serious injury from them? The kind of injury where Tav is convinced that they're fine and they don't want to worry anyone with something they can handle on their own, especially the people they care most for, but as they try to ignore the injury it only gets worse until it's potentially life threatening and they can't keep up the facade anymore. I will leave it up to you whether or not Tav and the other individual are in a romantic relationship. I think both ways have potential for wonderful angst 😆

ooohhh noooooo! but also oh yes, LOVE this sort of angst lol. written as if you have had an infection come on from an injury. this is gonna be a long list so let's buckle up...

Astarion

really tries to hide his panic but fails miserably.

can't help but start snapping - how could you keep something like this from him?

you try to give your excuses but he waves them away, angry, but mostly because he's terrified that he might have lost you.

if he has any healing potions he helps you take them, if he doesn't he immediately... sources some from somewhere.

holds you as tight as he dares, worried that he will aggravate the injury otherwise.

as you begin to heal and drift off to sleep he spends the whole night watching you rest, making sure that you're still breathing, still safe. doesn't mind when you cuddle up to him in the night, sleepily.

Gale

curses himself for not noticing your condition. he's a wizard, damn it! he's meant to be bloody perceptive.

wishes for the first time ever that he didn't just know wizard spells. wishes he knew how to heal, too.

makes you as comfortable as he can while he finds a book about what he can do for an infected wound, probably swallowing his pride and going to Shadowheart if it's bad enough.

you manage a weak, "Gale, you don't have to--", and he cuts you off, "if you're going to insist that I don't have to look after you, I'm telling you that I do."

fixes you something to help with the pain and infection, makes sure you drink it all despite the horrid taste, then tucks you into his bedroll to let you rest.

when you go to reach out and cuddle him he slips into your arms, presses his lips to your hair, and whispers as you fall asleep about how much you scared him. about how he'd never be able to lose you.

Lae'zel

only realises how unwell you are when you fall over mid-journey.

"tsk'va! why did you hide the extent of your injuries from me?"

hauls you onto her back and carries you back to camp, muttering about your foolishness the whole time.

makes you comfortable in her tent and uses her knowledge of githyanki medicine to help start healing you.

it isn't comfortable as she works on your infection but for the first time you feel her hands being soft rather than vicious.

"you should not have kept this from me." "I know. I'm sorry." "hm. ridiculous thing. zhak vo'n'fynh duj."

goes and intimidates the camp into being quiet so you can rest. it works. this is the nicest she's ever been to you. you could get used to it.

Shadowheart

obviously this is not a huge problem for her, but she is still worried that it got so far without her noticing.

immediately heals you, pouring far too many spell slots into your body in order to get it up and running again.

it helps, immediately breaking the fever you've been nursing, and the touch of Shadowheart's hand to your face is cooling and reassuring.

"lady shar teaches us to embrace our pain... but not like this. you should have known better. you could have died."

her hand slips down to cup your cheek, you cover it with one of your own. she's telling you off but you can tell it's because she cares.

"I'm sorry that I scared you." "I know. don't do it again."

she smiles and the ache in your heart is lifted, too.

Wyll

panics.

you collapse on day in camp and he immediately calls on the others for help, not so proud as to be unable to admit when something is out of his knowledge. he is not a healer. he needs help.

he manages to catch you in his arms as you tumble, hugging you close to his chest while magic is worked or a healer checks you over.

lets out a breath he didn't realise he was holding when you begin to stabilise.

helps you back to your tent to rest, gently chiding you but letting you know that he's glad you're alright.

when your hand weakly comes up to touch him, he indulges you in a kiss to let you know how relieved he is.

constantly watching you on the battlefield from that moment on. if he can help it, you'll never be hurt again.

Karlach

another panicker.

scoops you up in her arms and holds you to her chest, running to the tent of the nearest healer in camp - or, if you're in the city, kicking down the door of a local doctor.

begging the healer to check you over, but is reluctant to let you go. if she stops holding you it's like she's relinquishing control and that scares the life out of her.

you're healed and she feels you start to stir in her arms, peppering you with kisses of relief, choking through her tears that you're never to scare her like that again.

carries you back home, even if you're totally capable of walking. she just wants to make sure you're okay.

Halsin

sternly disappointed that you didn't tell him, but more annoyed that he didn't notice something was wrong himself. how could he not see how out of balance with nature you were?

squirrels you away to his tent to heal you, make you soothing and medicinal teas, his big hands over the source of the infection.

you burrow into his touch, into his chest, and you end up sitting in his lap as he heals you.

he wants to tell you off a little, but is more relieved that you're alright. encourages you to share all your burdens with him.

kisses you on the forehead, then on the mouth when he's sure you're strong enough for it not to knock you flat.

Dammon

my poor boy is just a blacksmith, so though he doesn't exactly panic, he does scoop you up and try to find a healer as soon as he can.

waits quietly and nervously as you are examined, silently cursing himself for being too busy to see how you were hurt. he's meant to be better than this. he's meant to love you, how didn't he notice?

when you come to he can't stop apologising, and it takes several of your kisses to soothe him and tell him it was not his fault but yours.

he makes you promise that you'll always tell him when you're hurt. has you look into his eyes and swear it.

he can't do much on the battlefield but he can protect you where he can.

Rolan

another one cursing that he doesn't know healing spells.

"you aren't meant to die, gods damn it! you're meant to be strong... what good am I if I can't keep you safe..."

rushes you to the best doctor in Baldur's Gate. pays for all the treatment that you could need. holds your hand at your bedside for your entire recovery... until you come back to consciousness, of course, at which point he just starts telling you off for being stupid enough to get into his mess in the first place.

you grab him by the collar and drag him down for a kiss. that finally shuts him up. but he never lets you forget how foolish you were.

Zevlor

practical but still worried about you.

you collapse in the field and he finds a safe place to hide the both of you from dangerous eyes, using his Lay on Hands ability to channel his magic into healing.

you try to apologise but a finger to your lips silences you, and all you can do is watch in quiet wonder as he burns the infection out with his Paladin's light.

when you're better he gently chides you. tells you that you have people relying on your leadership, and that a problem shared means there are more heads working on how to fix it.

when he sees how sorry you are lets you cuddle into him. when you say you'll repay him, he insists your happiness and well-being is enough for an old warrior like him.

does take the kiss you offer, though. he's been wanting to do that for a while...

[brucewaynehater101]

I've seen this au before, but pretty rarely. Tim actually dies/harmed enough not to make it/Ra's just puts him in Lazarus Pit for shit and giggles.

(after Brucequest)

Tim snaps. Bruce or Damian or Jason or Dick or even Steph, anyone who tried to kill him/he had an emotional bond with says something. like,

Bruce, ignorant: *being himself*

Damian, after some goon got lucky: as expected from not bloody son

Jason whenever: hey, Replacement-

Dick, not seeing full picture of the case: Tim, I think you're wrong-

Steph: *basically any joke about her death*

and Tim just stands there heartbroken and empty. he stops whatever he was doing, even blinking, staring into their souls with the neon eyes they all seen. it takes time to notice that he never responded.

(not exact the expression I was going for but kinda)

FANART!!!! That looks fucking fantastic!!!! Heck yeah to the glowing green eyes, the long hair, piercing, and the way his eyes seems to convey how done he is. His expression, to me, appears to be reluctantly resigned and guarded.

Anyways! Fics or fanwork that show Tim being fed up and done (less of a blow up and more of him just giving up on the Bats) are near and dear to me. For the Bats not being great to Tim, I love seeing him just giving up. He loves them, but he can't care about them or their opinions anymore.

I've also seen some cool AUs regarding Lazarus Pit effects:

The typical anger

Tim completely losing his ability to access his emotions. Since he usually compartmentalized anyways, being revived made him 90% logical.

Pit possessiveness (though seen with Jason)

Venom-like pit consciousness (with Jason)

Accelerated healing

Increased durability

Overall heightened emotions

Memory erasure (specifically ones with positive emotions towards people)

For an L.P. AU with Tim realizing his family doesn't care about him in the way that he needs them to, there's a few cool ways to go about it.

You can have the L.P. trying to keep him with the family despite how much it hurts.

The L.P. can try to protect him by shielding certain memories, whispering to him, or shielding certain feelings.

Tim can rapidly lose feelings for his family members and turn to apathy due to the Pit heightening this quality.

Lots of fun!!!!

Again, really really cool artwork!!!! I've been so excited to answer this one ^^

[drmaddict]

One or Two Books my Ass

Summary: modern!Aegon writes erotic books. (Y/n) finds out and Aegon's self-doubt takes over.

Wordcount: 658

Warnings: mention of a mommy kink (like in the last sentence), no use of (Y/n), no actual smut, just fluff

"No! NO!" Aegon snatched the pages, she had found on his desk from her hand and pressed them to his chest.

She looked at him in bewilderment. "Did you write this?"

"No.", he said sulkily. "That's... from the internet", he babbled and put the thin script in a lockable drawer.

"Ah. And the editor's notes were from the internet too?"

Aegon's face looked stubbornly at the drawer. "Just a hobbie.", he muttered, but his jaw was grinding. He left the room, but she quickly followed him.

"That's really good!", she called after him. "Aegon, I'm serious. You're writing?"

He flopped down on the sofa in the living room. He sighed. "I might have one or two books... published.", he sulked.

She sat down next to him, irritated. "That's actually something most people would be proud of, mouse." She put his legs on her thighs and stroked his calves.

He stubbornly looked at the ceiling. "I write porn. Go on. Make fun of me." he grumbled. "Like everyone else." He mumbled so quietly that she almost didn't hear him.

"You write erotica and it seems you do it very well. It's not an easy genre."

He laughed spitefully. "Sure."

She sighed. Who had told him again, that it wasn't worth anything? His brother? His mum? She continued to stroke his leg. "Tell me. Who put the flea in your ear?"

He closed his eyes in surrender. "My nephew - Luke - found my first script. It was about to be published. I was actually kind of proud." He scratched at the bit of callus on his thumb, as he always did when he got nervous. "He ran into the dining room and read it out loud, laughing. The rare times my father looked at me, he just looked at me dismissively, my mum was ashamed of me and Aemond was almost bursting with glee for my embarrassment. From then on, my nephews only called me Porn-Shakspear."

He curled up and buried his face in the pillows.

"Why are you still doing it if you're so embarrassed?", she asked gently.

"It makes money.", he mumbled.

She laughed. "Your family is rich."

"But it's my money.", he explained sadly. "I'm not a lawyer. I'm not a CEO. I'm not a manager. I'm not smart, but... apparently I can, do that..." He sighed devotedly. "At least I can do that."

She squeezed herself between him and the back of the sofa. She gently pulled him into her arms. He buried his face in her chest. "I really like it. Apart from that, I actually really like reading things like that. Do you have a pen name? Maybe I've read something of yours before.", she smiled and kissed the top of his head.

"A.I.I. Black.", he just mumbled.

"What?", she blurted out?

He looks up at her in confusion. Fear was in his eyes.

"I bloody love your books!", she declared.

He blushed and buried himself against her chest again.

"Do you know, how many times we read you at book club?", she asked with a laugh.

"Stop it.", he whined, wrapping his arms tighter around her waist so she couldn't force him to look at her.

She gave up and started stroking his hair. He was almost purring at that.

"One or two books my ass. Bestsellers Aegon! Several worldwide bestsellers! Wait a minute. How much do you make from that?"

He bit his lip in embarrassment. "Let's just say it's weird being a billionaire heir and a self-made millionaire at the same time."

"You bloody little genius." She tousled his hair. "And your asshole-family probably doesn't even suspect a thing."

"So you're not embarrassed by me?", he asked meekly.

"Of course not.", she mumbled softly into his hair, "But-"

He did look up now. She grinned. "I have a few things I want to try."

He smiled. "Anything you want... Mommy?"

"My good boy.", she praised and kissed him quickly on his forehead.

"Fuck."

[chvoswxtch]

part six: the final girl

[series masterlist] | [previous part]

pairing: billy russo x fem!reader

summary: you get to choose your own ending.

warnings: swearing, mentions of gore, explicit sexual content (minors dni), knife play, billy infinitely being a cocky lil shit, the mask stays on ;)

word count: 5k

a/n: and that is a wrap on spooky slutty season. I want to once again thank y'all for letting me have fun with this, and for having fun with me. i've always wanted to do something like this, and it warms my spooky slutty heart that y'all liked it. now, without further ado, let's give the people what they came for. ;) as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

“You.”

Billy kept his hands held up in surrender as he watched you grab the bloodied award and rise to your feet, your jaw clenched as you grit that word out with pure hostility. The fire he could see burning in your eyes was exhilarating.

“I can explain-”

“Explain? Explain what? You murdered them-”

“I did it for you.”

Billy’s words caught you off guard. He said it so calmly, and with such conviction. A crease of perplexity settled between your brows, and you stared at him in outrage and disbelief.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I brought him here.”

Billy slowly lowered his hands to his sides, keeping his eyes locked on you. He didn’t make a move to come closer, not yet. Roman’s words from earlier echoed in your head. 

Last week, I got a picture of you with two words. New York.

Billy was the one who sent him the picture. Billy was the one who told Roman where you were. White hot rage bubbled within you once again, and you gripped the award in your hand as you took a step closer, screaming at him.

“Why the fuck would you do that?”

Billy didn’t flinch at your outburst. He didn’t take a step backwards. He didn’t physically react at all.

“Because you needed it.”

All you could do was stare at Billy in convoluted incredulity and anger. He was making the whole thing sound so simple, so logical, like he was looking at it through rose colored glasses. Taking in the look on your face and the fact that you seemed speechless, Billy took a cautious step forward and spoke calmly.

“He’s dead, sweetheart. You never have to worry about lookin’ over your shoulder again. You’re free.”

“Free? You killed Adam. God, you killed Derek and Annie, you almost killed me-”

Billy immediately shook his head no and cut you off.

“No. I was never gonna hurt you. Look, I'm sorry for scarin’ you, and I’m sorry you did get hurt, but I had to convince the police it was him after you. I didn’t see another way to do this. And look at you. Look how strong it’s made you.”

Billy’s dark brown eyes roved over your figure appreciatively, staring at you almost in awe, the ghost of a proud smile gracing the edge of his lips. There was a glint in his gaze when he met your eyes, and you could see a complete lack of remorse for what he’d done. There was no guilt, no shame, nothing.

“You’re psychotic.”

Billy took another step forward, reaching out to take the bloodied award away from you, tossing it onto the floor carelessly. He lifted his hand to brush a strand of your hair that was soaked in blood away from your face, gazing down at you in adoration.

“No sweetheart. I'm in love.”

Narrowing your eyes, you clenched your jaw and raised your chin defiantly, refusing to break eye contact as you cocked your head to the side.

“So in love with me you’re gonna get me sent to prison?”

Hearing the bitterness in your voice, Billy let out a frustrated exhale through his nose, his reverence for you shifting into pure annoyance at your attitude.

“You ain’t goin’ to prison. I made sure of that. Everything is traceable back to him. When the cops go to the motel he was stayin’ at, they’re gonna find everything they need to wrap this case up with a neat fuckin’ bow. The outfit and mask, the knife and the DNA on it, surveillance photos of you, a disposable cell phone, everything. And this-”

Billy loosely gestured with his hand towards Roman’s lifeless body on the floor surrounded by a puddle of blood.

“-this will be clear and cut self defense. I got the best legal team in the world, sweetheart. Roman had motive, and there’s a paper trail, all leadin’ back to him. None of this is comin’ back on you. I’d never let that happen.”

The implications of what Billy was saying slowly started to sink in. He planned this, down to the last meticulous detail. You didn’t know how long he’d planned it, or who he’d leveraged his power and wealth against to make it happen, but he’d directed every moment of this set up. He had carefully crafted a trap that Roman had walked right into. Adam, Derek, Annie, the cops, his own men, you; you’d all been pieces on the game master’s board, unaware you were losing a rigged match that only had one outcome from the beginning.

Billy snapped you out of your thoughts when he took your face in his hands, brushing his thumbs over the splatters of blood on your cheekbones to wipe them away.

“You belong with me. No one else, me. You know that now.”

Staring up at him, there was a soft furrow between your brows as you let out a breathless and humorless laugh.

“Belong with you? You’re a murderer-”

“So are you.”

Billy arched one of his dark brows in challenge, gesturing his head towards the dead body on the floor next to your feet. Pressing your lips together in a firm line, you clenched your jaw seeing the flicker of amusement in Billy’s gaze. Shaking your head slowly, you smacked his hands away from your face and took a step backwards.

“You’re delusional. You are absolutely fucking delusional-”

“Oh c’mon, sweetheart. We had an agreement, yeah? No bullshit. You gonna stand there and tell me you feel bad about this, huh? You gonna look me in the eye and tell me he didn’t deserve it? Because from where I’m standin’, he had it comin’. Hell, he deserved worse if you ask me.”

Billy was staring you down, daring you to open your mouth and correct him. But even as your lips parted to speak, nothing came out. No words of regret, no remorse of your own, no horror at the brutality you’d just learned you were capable of. Even though you knew you should feel guilty and revolted about what you’d just done, you didn’t. You couldn’t come to your own defense. You didn’t have to kill Roman. You could’ve knocked him out and called the police. 

But you didn’t.

You chose to kill him. You wanted to kill him. Because deep down, you knew Billy was right. It was the only way you were going to be free. It had come down to kill, or be killed. Instead of the shackles of guilt and shame dragging you down to the unknown depths of whatever hell was waiting for you for breaking the cosmic rule of taking another life, you felt light as a feather. The fear that had been weighing on your chest your whole life, but especially the last three years, was gone. You could breathe again. You didn’t feel weak or fragile. You felt…powerful.

That moral compass within you was pointing towards relief, and maybe it had always been crooked, you just hadn’t noticed until now. But the moment you watched Roman take his last breath, something changed in you. The false pretense you had existed under abruptly faded away. All at once, the girl you had been trying to lay to rest was finally dead, for good. And it was then that you realized you hadn’t been trying so hard to bury her this entire time because of Roman and out of necessity for your own safety. It was because she was never who you really were.

This was.

Billy could see the initial hesitation on your face that slowly transitioned from denial into a half step away from acceptance. He took a step closer to you, wanting to convince you to take that final leap into embracing the truth he’d always been able to see.

“Think about it. The only time you felt safe was with me. The only time you weren’t tryin’ to be someone else, was with me. Annie didn’t know you, not like I do. Neither did Adam, and neither did this motherfucker.”

Billy pointed towards Roman’s lifeless body as he spit those words out like they were acidic. He took another bold step closer, and this time he wasn’t gentle when he grabbed your face in his hand, half of his fingers wrapping around your throat possessively. 

“I've killed for you, no else can say that. You think you were gonna be happy settlin’ down with a nice guy from Jersey, havin’ to fake who you are for the rest of your life? No way, sweetheart. Face it. It’s you and me.”

Tilting your head back slowly, you looked up at Billy, not an ounce of fear in your eyes. Your face was a blank portrait, but there was a glimmer of challenge in your unwavering stare.

“And if I say no?”

The calmness in your voice sent a thrill through Billy. You were almost there. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and he lowered his voice to a husky whisper, even though you were the only two people in the bedroom. Alive, anyway.

“You ain’t gonna do that, sweetheart. You know why?”

Billy’s question was rhetorical, and it had an undertone of amusement as he looked down at you with mischief twinkling in his eyes. His breath was warm as it ghosted over your lips.

“You know I'm right. You don’t feel a single ounce of guilt about what you just did, and you shouldn’t. He had it comin’, and no one is gonna miss this sorry piece of shit.”

Billy leaned in to nuzzle his nose against your neck, pulling you flush against his body, his other arm wrapping around your waist possessively. You swallowed thickly feeling the coarseness of his facial hair brush against your skin, making you shudder, and your body betrayed your shaky sense of morality, the lingering ache between your thighs from Billy fucking you in this very room earlier suddenly all your brain could focus on.

“You’ve always had a darkness in you, sweetheart. I knew it the night I met you. I felt it. You ain’t gotta hide it, not with me. You ain’t gotta hide period. You can go home again, see your family, your friends. There’s nothin’ holdin’ you back now. You’re not a victim anymore.”

Billy’s smooth words dripping into your ear like raw honey had a soft sigh escaping your lips. The thought of being able to go home, being able to see your mom again, being able to just exist without living in fear…it completely drowned everything else out that you should be feeling. Billy was right, you weren’t a victim anymore. And you were never going to be one again.

He’d done that for you. In his own sick, twisted way that he justified, he’d put a mirror up to you, and you were finally able to see yourself clearly. He’d pushed you to confront everything you tried to run away and hide from. He’d awoken that thing inside you that you’d always known was there, but had been too afraid to acknowledge. He’d forced you to choose between being a helpless ingenue, or a relentless fighter. 

There was no going back.

Your eyes fluttered open when Billy pulled back to look down at you. His dark brown eyes were full of awe and reverence. He stared down into your eyes lovingly, brushing the pad of his thumb along the underside of your jaw as his lips spread into a wicked grin.

“You’re a final girl, baby.”

»»———　　———««

The California sun had been something you missed immensely. New York got sunny, hot even, but it wasn’t the same. Those warm rays didn’t carry with them whispers of salt from the sea that tickled your nose or the breeze of nostalgia that caressed your fonder memories. Woodsboro hadn’t hardly changed at all in the three years you had been gone. It was exactly as you had left it.

So was your mother’s house, and your old childhood bedroom. It had been over ten years since you’d last lived in this house, but your bedroom was like a time capsule of your teenage self. The same white cotton sheets and orchid purple comforter, posters of boy bands peeling at the corners, memories with your mom and friends forever immortalized on a corkboard that were held in place with push pins. It even had the same distinct smell that it had ten years ago.

Laying in the twin size bed, you tried to conjure that teenage girl in your head, the one whose room this had been, but you couldn’t. She was as gone as the woman you had been before. You never expected to be back in this room, to get to see your mother again, but the investigation was done, and you were free to move on. Your mom had been shocked when you showed up at the front door unannounced a few days ago, and even more shocked that you’d brought someone with you, but it only took a matter of minutes before she was eating out of the palm of Billy’s hand.

The charming fucker.

The bathroom door slowly opened, the creaking of the hinges breaking you out of your thoughts, and when you glanced over, an amused laugh left your lips as your brows rose up your forehead.

“Seriously?”

Billy remained silent, his boots heavy against the hardwood floor as he took slow, predatory steps towards the bed you were laying on. Your eyes wandered over the sight of him in the black robes, his handsome face concealed by the ghastly mask. Arching one of your brows, a smirk stretched over your lips.

“What, you wanna play psycho killer?”

Billy nodded silently, taking more calculated steps towards you, building the anticipation. Grazing your top teeth over your bottom lip, you sat up slowly and moved onto your knees, looking up at him in faux innocence as your voice came out in a sultry tease.

“Can I be the helpless victim?”

Once again, Billy nodded, tilting his head to the side slowly. He slipped a knife out of the robe, the glint of the metal twinkling under the light in the room. Your lips parted as he placed the blunt edge of it along the side of your neck, gliding it down slowly, the coolness of the metal against your skin making you shiver. He continued to leisurely drag it down, over your right collarbone, and over the swell of your breasts through your shirt. 

When he reached the hem of it, Billy grasped the shirt in one of his gloved hands while he used the other to flip the knife over, dragging the sharp side of the blade in the opposite direction upwards, slicing right through the thin material. He took his time, the satisfying sound of fabric ripping filling the quiet as the knife glided through your shirt like fresh scissors through silky wrapping paper.

Goosebumps prickled along your skin as he dragged the blade across your collarbone towards the strap of your bra, not using enough pressure to actually hurt you or draw blood, but just enough for you to feel the faint sting of steel against soft flesh. A succession of two snips sounded, and severed straps tumbled down your arms. But Billy didn’t just reach behind you to unhook your bra, that wasn’t part of the fun. Instead, he cut right through the front of it, wire and all, and then your breasts were bouncing slightly as they spilled from the cups.

Billy wrapped his gloved hand around your throat and forced you onto your back, climbing on top of you, bringing his face down closer. The rubber of the mask was stiff as he pressed his forehead to yours, but you could faintly see his eyes through the black cloth covering the holes of the eye openings.

“Billy-”

“Shh.”

He held his index finger up to the mouth of the mask before bringing it down to press against your lips.

“Bite.”

A flicker of confusion passed through your eyes, but you bit down gently on the tip of his finger, and he pulled his hand back, the fabric of the glove remaining between your teeth as he slipped his hand out. Grabbing it from your mouth and tossing it aside, he traced your lips with his index finger before slipping his thumb past your lips and into your mouth, pressing the pad of it against your soft, warm and wet tongue.

“Suck.”

Wrapping your lips around his thumb, you made a soft noise in the back of your throat as you hollowed your cheeks, sucking softly on his digit and swirling your tongue around it slowly, giving the tip a gentle bite. A muffled grunt came from Billy above, and he pushed his hips forward, allowing you to feel the erection straining against his pants poking against your lower stomach.

“You feel how fuckin’ worked up you get me, baby?”

“I wanna feel more.”

Billy’s dark chuckle was muffled by the mask, his deep voice husky and full of amusement. He slipped his thumb out of your mouth, rubbing it over your lips and down your chin, spreading your own saliva over your skin.

“Greedy little thing.”

Dragging the knife between the valley of your breasts and down your stomach, the cold steel made you tense, your stomach muscles clenching slightly. In a flash, Billy had rendered your sleep shorts into shreds of jagged fabric, but he surprised you by setting the knife on the bed beside your head so he could slip your panties down your thighs, leaving them intact.

“Open your mouth.”

Parting your lips and opening your mouth slightly, you watched as Billy balled up the silky red fabric, and your eyes widened slightly when he shoved it into your mouth, gagging you with your own panties. A soft noise was muffled by the makeshift gag, but Billy ignored whatever you were trying to say. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head on the mattress.

“Be a good girl and keep these here.”

Your heart was racing with anticipation, and a thrill of excitement had your nerve endings feeling like they’d just been hit with a jolt of lightning. You clenched your hands into fists above your head to keep yourself from reaching for Billy as you watched him drag the robe up to his hips so he could unzip his pants, reaching inside to pull out his hardened cock. He slipped his hand between your thighs, coating his palm and his fingers in the wetness that had your inner thighs slick, and you moaned around the gag, shifting your hips up in need as his thumb brushed lightly over your needy clit.

Billy wrapped his hand around the base of his cock, giving himself a few languid strokes as he coated his length in your natural lubrication. He didn’t have any patience left for teasing or playing his own little game, and neither did you. He pushed his hips forward, a muffled groan of satisfaction sounding from deep within his chest as he sank into your tight welcoming heat. Your back arched slightly and your eyes nearly rolled at the sensation of being stretched and filled with his thick cock.

Grabbing your wrists, Billy kept them pinned to the mattress above your head, and he languidly rolled his hips, the denim of his jeans rubbing against your bare thighs with every deep stroke. You brought your legs up to wrap around his waist, trying to pull him closer, wanting him impossibly deeper. Your moans of pleasure were muffled by your panties in your mouth, and you could hear Billy’s heavy breathing through the mask.

“Such a good little slut for me. You like it when I fuck you like this, don’t you baby?”

Billy chuckled darkly in your ear hearing the incoherent response reduced to a muffled moan from the makeshift gag. 

“I know you do. I can feel it. This pretty pussy was soaked before I even touched you, and it’s grippin’ my cock so tight, takin’ it so well.”

Billy raised up slightly, letting go of one of your wrists so he could wrap his hand around your throat instead, squeezing just a little as he kept fucking you with slow, deep strokes.

“I knew this shit would get you off. You really are as fucked in the head as me, aren’t you pretty girl? You like it when I-”

All of a sudden there was a knock on the bedroom door, and your eyes went wide.

“Sweetie?”

Billy stopped thrusting, twisting his head to look at the door before looking down at you. Grabbing the mouth of the mask, he pulled it over his head, his raven strands messy from being under the mask. His dark brown eyes were wild with lust and had a dangerous glint in them. He quickly pulled your panties out of your mouth, and you swallowed thickly before calling out.

“Yeah?”

“Are you guys hungry? I was thinking about ordering a pizza.”

Billy’s breathing was heavy, but before you could answer your mother, he swiped the knife off the bed beside your head and held it to your throat. Your eyes widened in surprise, a flash of confusion in them, but then Billy rolled his hips forward, and your mouth dropped open. He quickly covered your mouth with his palm before the moan could slip out, and he pressed the blade just a tad harder against your neck to silence you. He leaned in, his nose brushing against yours as he whispered in a husky and rough tone while staring down into your wide eyes.

“Answer her.”

Billy’s hips were flush against your own, and he was flexing them forward, his cock dragging through your tight warm walls in a way that made your brain feel fuzzy.

“Y-Yeah. That…that sounds good.”

“What kind of pizza does Billy like?”

Your hands flew out to grab onto Billy’s biceps, and your eyes fluttered shut as Billy started to fuck you a little harder, but still keeping his thrusts slow and deep. Because he’d just unzipped his pants, the rough denim of his jeans covering his pelvis was rubbing right against your throbbing clit with every move of his hips. It was maddening. 

“Any kind.”

Ever the inquisitive and talkative one, your mother continued to drone on about pizza toppings and the new Italian place in town, rambling about things you didn’t give a single fuck about right now. 

You were trying to keep it out of your voice that you were currently getting fucked into the mattress, but it was getting hard to keep your words from sounding shaky and breathless. Billy watched you from above, his lips spreading into a sinister grin, his dark eyes twinkling with delight. He leaned in and nuzzled his nose along the underside of your jaw, nipping at your sensitive skin, pressing his hips flush against yours and starting to oscillate them. A breath caught in your throat, and you whispered pleadingly.

“Billy-”

“Keep talking or I won’t let you come.”

There was an edge of a warning to his voice, and you gripped onto his arms tighter, forcing down the whine of frustration you wanted to let slip. 

“Mom, really, anything is…f-fine. Billy just…got out of the shower…we’ll…we’ll be down in a minute.”

“Okay, I’ll get both toppings and the breadsticks just in case. No one ever complained about too much pizza.”

You heard your mom’s familiar melodic laughter and the sound of her footsteps retreating, descending the staircase, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“I like your mom.”

Smacking your hand against Billy’s arm, he let out an amused laugh, dropping the knife back onto the bed as he grinned down at you.

“You’re such a dick.”

Billy let out a hum, grabbing your thigh and hiking your leg further up his waist, allowing him to change the angle and thrust even deeper, tearing a surprised moan from your lips. He nuzzled his nose against your neck, nipping at your earlobe as he whispered in a teasing tone.

“Now, is that any way to talk to the man who’s about to make you come?”

Letting out a frustrated whine, you wrapped your arms around his neck tightly and tried to pull him in even closer.

“Billy-”

Grabbing your throat once again, Billy cut you off as he captured your lips in a deep kiss, forcing his tongue past your lips to taste you. He started to snap his hips quickly, and you moaned into the kiss, gripping onto his broad shoulders and digging your nails into the thick fabric of the black robe. The worn frame of your bed began to squeak under the weight of both of you and how roughly Billy was now fucking you into the mattress. Never in a million years did you think you’d be having kinky sex in your childhood bedroom, but Billy had gotten you to do a lot of things you never thought you would.

The moan that tore from the depth of your core was muffled by Billy’s greedy lips, and he tightened his grip on your thigh when you tightened your trembling legs around his waist. Even when he felt your cunt clench around his cock, and the warmth that flooded afterwards, soaking through his jeans, he didn’t stop. He fucked you through your orgasm, and past it. He kept going, determined to force one more wave of pleasure out of you. His kiss was even hungrier, more demanding, and he could faintly feel you clawing at his back through the thick fabric. 

When a second round of ecstasy barreled through you and seeped through his jeans to drench his heated skin beneath, Billy finally let go, allowing your greedy cunt to milk him for all he was worth. The instant gratification was overwhelming, turning his vision white for a split second, making his veins feel like they were flowing with helium instead of blood.

“Wow.”

Billy chuckled hearing the breathlessness of your voice. He peppered kisses along your neck, and you could feel his grin on your skin.

“Wow, ‘I just had sex in my childhood bedroom’, or wow ‘that was the best fuck I’ve ever had’?”

“Both.”

Pulling back to look at you, Billy’s dark eyes wandered over your face, and the hazy grin and fucked out look in your eyes made a smile stretch over his own mouth. He brushed his knuckles along your cheekbone gently, just quietly observing you. After a moment of comfortable silence, he spoke.

“We can stay, you know.”

You knew what Billy was saying. When you’d told him you wanted to return to Woodsboro for the holidays to see your mom again, you’d asked him to come with you, and he’d immediately cleared his schedule to make the trip. There hadn’t been a discussion on whether this was just a visit, or a homecoming, but the look in Billy’s eyes told you everything you needed to know. If you wanted to stay permanently, so would he.

Letting out a deep exhale through your nose, you looked up at him with a soft smile, placing your hand on top of his.

“I don’t belong here. I don’t know if I ever did. It’s nice to come back and visit but…it’s not where I’m meant to be.”

“You’re meant to be whenever you wanna be.”

It was such a strange feeling having a person that would do anything for you. You had never had that before. Even your mother had a history of putting her own needs and wants before your own. But Billy…Billy was willing to do whatever it took to make you happy, and ready to handle anyone or anything that got in the way of that, without hesitation. You were still processing everything that had happened, but when you had woken up on that first morning of November, you finally felt like you could breathe. You finally felt like…you. 

There was no more running. No more pretending. No more living in fear. It was freeing, and empowering. It didn’t feel like there was anything that could be thrown at you that you couldn’t handle, not anymore. And now, you weren’t doing it alone. You never had to be alone again. 

“I know, but I like New York. I wanna be there. The coffee is better.”

Billy smirked and arched one of his dark brows, looking at you with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. 

“That all?”

Pursing your lips, you twisted your features into an expression of mock contemplation, pretending to think it over. 

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Billy rolled his eyes, shaking his head with an amused snort. He leaned in and nipped at your neck, making you laugh.

“Brat.”

Carding his fingers through your hair, Billy tilted his head to the side as he looked at you curiously.

“You thought about that deal?”

Looking at him in confusion, you cocked your own head to the side.

“What deal?”

“About the book.”

Letting out a soft laugh, you rolled your own eyes and shook your head, a faint smirk gracing the edge of your lips as you quirked a brow.

“What, and be the next Gale Weathers?”

“Why not? You got a hell of a story.”

Billy flashed you a wink, a wicked grin splitting his lips. Bringing your hand up to smooth his raven strands back into place, you bit down on your bottom lip, smirking.

“Mhm. And what would I call this story?”

Billy gave a faint shrug of his shoulders, leaning in with a smirk as he brushed his lips against yours, whispering.

“How about a play on the original. If you’re gonna be the next Gale Weathers, you could call it…The Manhattan Murders.”

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @ferns-fics @danzer8705 @to-thelakes @simonsgirl @sweetserendipity65 @zomtart @day-dreaming-goddess @caroblogsthings @thomasshelbyswife @snowkestrel @hallowedtangerine @ameliaswife @dreadfulxives18 @ebsmind @lllla717 @slumnit @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @nolita-fairytale @oliviaewl @r1kk @unlikelystarlightcowboy @imperihoe-writes @dumb-fawkin-bitch @merc12-us @moonyinthestars @sweetttart @i-caught-a-pidge @fruityfucker @strangerfromketterdam @whosprettynow @killing-gremlin

»— if you wanna get in the spooky slutty mood, listen here! -> the manhattan murders soundtrack

[chorusofcrows]

Villains who are polite and elegant while commiting crimes. Their fighting looks like a dance form. They're well-versed in how to act for/ preform for/ entertain the rich (they are the rich, "villainy pays well"). Genius (actual braindead idiot).

On the other hand, a hit-hard, ask-questions-after kind of hero. They're a disaster, and quite frankly help others because they don't know how (or don't want to) help themselves. Braindead idiot (accidental genius).

Now make it enemies to lovers.

Hero "hates" villain for their mannerism, but they're really just infatuated with them. Villain's taunts make them think about their actions.

Villain's attraction is "why are people in their midlife crisis so hot" and moronsexual™️. Hero makes their brain shortcircuit.

Hero: "Oh poor you, your perfect, greasy, pretty hair is singed."

Villain: Are they flirting or insulting me? God they're so bad at it no matter which on it is (It's both), that's so sexy

Hero, bruised and bloody, getting up with shaky legs, smiling. It's very attractive: "I've been hit harder"

Villain, nose bleeding: "Hello, sailor"

Villain, dusting off their now riped-in-shambles suit, and straightening the cuffs, "I just got this suit after you destroyed the last one. I would ask you to purchase me a new set of attire, but I doubt you can afford it."

Hero, their brain thinking 'No, I deffinately cannot' to 'I'd like to see them without the suit entirely' to 'Wait, what?' and 'God, I hate them, their lovely voice, their hair that smells like how honey tastes, the way they smile when they reveal their plans' and would really like to see villain without the suit entirely (even through villain looks great in all of their suits): "Just stop wearing suits and wear something that can handle me."

Villain, wondering if Hero is doing this on purpose (they aren't) and what their relationship even is: "Hot"

Hero: "What"

Villain: "What"

Hero: "Did you just call me ho-"

Villain, paniking: "You're on fire"

Hero: "???? No, I'm no-????"

Villain, pulling out a flamethrower and shooting Hero (dw they're flame-proof): hO t.

[ashleyfilm]

Seeing Clearly

Hi Everyone, this is my first fan fiction. I love Joel Miller and Pedro and I just wanted to write something about him/them. I was inspired by the many many many fantastic fics I've read and all their writers. You all are amazing. I don't know what I'm doing so, if I do something wrong, please let me know and I'll adjust. Please leave comments, I'd love to know your thoughts. And if you feel inclined to reblog, that would be so nice.

Chapter Warnings: violence, cursing, gore, blood. (There Will Be Smut, eventually) Minors - DNI

Characters: Jackson!Joel Miller x F!Reader Plus Size. I will give her some physical descriptions because she is me for this one but I've taken to writing her and You (Reader) so hopefully you can still imagine yourself. Black hair, glasses, tattoos, big body, wears dark clothes, won't stop talking, a little annoying. Joel is tv show Jackson Joel.

Story Summary: Joel just saved your life, begrudgingly. He doesn't know exactly why but he brings you back to Jackson and you ingratiate yourself into his very small circle and his life. This takes place after season 1 of TLOU and season 2 doesn't exist in my brain because no.

Chapter Summary: Joel saves your life and takes you back to Jackson.

Chapter 1: Him.

It all happens so fast. You step on that fallen fucking branch and it snaps. It feels so loud in the eerie quiet of the forest, like an explosion. Your heart almost burst in your chest, and the clicker you were hiding from, praying would pass you by, turns on the stumps left of its heels and comes towards you. Its limbs flailing, but at a speed that seems impossible. Next, you’re on the ground, pushing the things’ rotting neck and shoulders as hard as you can to keep its snapping jaws from your face, when suddenly, with the sound of a shot, the head splinters, and bloody debris falls onto the skin of your face as the clicker’s strength weakens and its weight falls against you.

Your brain can’t catch up with what is happening as the corpse is lifted off you and the sound of a man’s voice starts to come through as if you’re hearing it under water. “ANSWER ME!” You finally make out the words, “WERE YOU BIT?” You find your voice, shaky but still strong, matching the man’s intensity, “I DON’T KNOW.” You hear him sigh, almost as if he’s irritated rather than fearful. You still can’t see him clearly, the viscera of brain matter from the clicker being shot above you still blurring your vision, along with the loss of your black framed glasses that helped you see, even if the prescription wasn’t exactly right. Damnit, where are they now? You wipe your face as best you can and move your mass of black hair streaked with gray out of the way as the man, who you can now see is large, broad shouldered, only being able to make out his shape without your glasses. He grabs at your collar and moves your head from side to side to check your face and neck, and then pulls you up to a standing position. You’re weak on your legs after the, let’s face it, near fucking death experience you just had, and reach out to the man, grabbing his hand for balance, after you seem steady and not a second before, he pulls his hand back and squeezes his fist like you burned him. Okay, man, just trying not to fall over again.

“Roll up your sleeves and show me your hands and arms, both sides. NOW!” You do just that. His brow furrows at the site of the tattoos covering your arms, like he’s wondering how you got them all, and trying to figure out if it was before the world ended, or after. How old you would have been, and if you could have gotten them all before. You can see the gears turning, then it seems he finally deems you unbitten and therefore not an immediate threat, but certainly not safe. “What are you doing out here alone, where are your people?” He says while looking around him, checking his six or whatever the fuck, you wonder if he was in the military or something, he seems like a soldier but also like maybe the Jason Borne kind. You never got to see the sequel they announced before it all happened, sequels usually sucked anyway. God, you miss movies.

“What is wrong with you, kid, you got brain damage? Answer my questions,” the man says, still more irritated with you than anything else. Kid? You’re fucking 40. Whatever. “Um, no brain damage that I know of, but I have a theory that I had an undiagnosed concussion as a teenager, um, but I’m out here trying to not get eaten by clickers, or raiders, or murdered, or worse and trying not to starve. Also, no people. I have no people.” You ramble quickly and the man sighs, AGAIN. You look down and see a rough black outline in the grass below and- “Oh, thank fuck.”

You reach down, clean them off on the part of your black long sleeved shirt that doesn’t have blood or clicker gunk on it and put them on with a long sigh of relief, “Do you know how hard it was to find glasses that actually helped me see and hold onto them and not break them in this shit show of an existence…” another sigh of relief as you open your eyes to finally look at the man who saved your life and already seems like he wants to take it back from you and Holy shit. He’s hot, there’s no other way to put it. He’s the hottest person you’ve ever seen on planet earth, and you’ve just ran your goddamn smart mouth like a fucking moron this entire time. Without the decency to be quiet and nervous in front of, again, THE HOTTEST PERSON YOU HAVE EVER SEEN. You choke on your own thoughts and wide-eyed look into his eyes, they’re chocolate brown and filled with life and emotion, he’s gruff and scary but his eyes…god, they betray him. His hair is just below his ears, curled and brown with slices of gray throughout. His face is worn, scarred, like he’s been through shit, you know because you have too. His nose is like a roman god’s, aquiline and fucking beautiful. He’s got a patchy beard the same two colors as his curly hair and his lips are full and pouty with a mustache and you wonder how it would scratch if he put his mouth on your neck. Wait, what the fuck. I mean he’s hot but instantly thinking of him kissing your neck… relax bitch.

He clears his throat, looking at you like you have two heads and sighs. He really likes to sigh. Then he finally speaks in a stern but soft voice, “Okay, look, don’t know why, but I believe you when you say you’re alone, your eyes look like you haven’t eaten in a few days, that true?” You nod and he seems relieved that you don’t start speaking again, so you stick with it and stay silent. His southern drawl continues, “I come from a community. If you want, I’ll take ya there. Food, shelter, medical. You gotta contribute and you gotta behave. Might want to watch that smart mouth of yours until people start trustin’ you, or maybe forever.” You look at him, tears threatening to fall, turning away to shield him or yourself, you’re not sure. Food. Shelter. Medical. My god how is this possible. He takes this time to look away from you and retrieve jerky from his pack which he holds out for you, and you take it. “Thank you...” you say in the quietest voice you think you’ve ever used realizing you don’t know his name. “Joel, name’s Joel Miller.” He nods and points his head in the direction he wants you to walk. Looking at your hair he says, “C’mon Ash,” and he follows just behind you. What you don’t see is the uptick of his lip on one side that reveals a dimple you’ve yet to witness on his beautiful face and his eyes linger on you for far too long when he should be watching your surroundings. That’s what you don’t see.

[heavensickness]

I know there are a lot of holes in this thought but I can't stop thinking about the fairytales such as Cinderella & Snow White as hundred years old confirmations of the belief that a woman's birth family is not that important, and that an unmarried daughter is an outsider in her birth family as her fate is to get married. She does not need to have the warmth of parental love as she is destined from birth to leave her parents for her husband, her children and her in-laws. The daughter is not allowed to be a child; but a wife, a bride, and a mother. The childhoods of these orphaned princesses spent without their mothers and/or fathers are never mentioned other than to add a thin layer of tragedy: "The poor princess lost her mother when she was a baby, and she had to live with an evil stepmother from then on." The princess never looks back, and she finds pure happiness in the arms of her prince once she is to be married, the utmost duty of the outsider daughter.

The Fairy Godmother gave Cinderella a dress, glass shoes, a carriage, a husband, and a whole kingdom. Who will give her deceased mother back?

[nsharks]

Can I ask more of Ghost with pregnant!reader? Like she is being totally emotional because she wants specific food and when he gets exactly the food she wants she cries because he's being so thoughtful and he's just like: ???? (I mean growing an human it's haaard)

pregnancy fluff with ghost (he's very patient with you)

Ghost loves the way you wear pregnancy. Your bump has become somewhat of a fascination for him— Can't believe you're growing my son in there. He likes to press firm kisses over the entirety of it, cup the underside with his palm, searching for any movement as he sighs in disbelief that this is truly his life now.

He's a bit obsessed with it all.

But what Ghost doesn't love about your pregnancy is how often, and at random, you begin to cry.

One night he's brought home takeout for you. He sets it on the table and searches for you. When you're not in the bedroom, he panics for a moment, but it fades once he finally finds you in the bathroom. With the lights off. Taking a bath with only a candle on the counter.

"Why are you bathing in the dark?" he asks, flicking on the light.

"No, no," you practically whine and he turns it back off.

"What's wrong?"

"Just... the light. It's too bright." He hears you sigh and there's a few little splashes as you rub over your stomach. "I'm trying to relax."

"Well, I've got your dinner and you never eat it once it's cold so c'mon."

He helps you out of the bathtub, grumbling something about how it's not safe to bathe in the bloody dark, but he presses a kiss to your damp forehead and lovingly towels you off. Helps you change back into your sweats, his shirt.

But when you get into the kitchen and look into the bag he's brought, Ghost sees a look on your face that he knows.

His chest tightens.

A frown trembles at your lips.

Oh, bloody hell.

You press a hand to your forehead and begin weeping, pitifully, the tears quietly stream down your cheeks as you shake your head. He is quick to hover behind you, ghosting a hand on your hip.

"Hey... hey, what is it?" he tries to ask as calmly as he can, but your crying (no matter how often it happened) always spikes a rush of fear in him. All of Ghost's fears begin and end with you, and now, the child you carry.

"This isn't what I wanted," you tell him with a voice that quivers.

"What?" He takes a deep breath, speaks slowly. "This is what you always want from there, love. Got you the same thing."

"I know, but I— I wanted the chicken this time."

"Why didn't you tell me that?"

"I thought I did," you wipe your cheeks, but the tears don't stop. "I think I forgot to."

"Forgot to tell me what you wanted," Ghost murmurs, not angry. Amused almost. He brushes the hair from your forehead. "Right, then. Nothin' that can't be fixed, yeah?"

And he drives back to the restaurant because the knot in his chest hurts and he knows it'll only dissipate if your tears do the same. But when he returns, and you see that he's actually come back with the order you forgot to tell him in the first place, you only cry harder, waddling up to him and gripping the collar of his coat. Your wet cheeks burying into his chest.

"Oh, Jesus," he says, confused and at a loss, his hand settling carefully on your back. "Sweetheart... what is it—"

"You're so thoughtful," you whimper. Breaking out into a sob. And it completely throws him off guard. "I don't think I deserve you."

"Don't deserve me, huh?" he mutters with a sigh, closing his eyes and holding you firmer now.

He can remember when he used to say the same thing— but now you are his wife, your swollen belly is pressed against him and even though he has no idea how to make you stop crying, he just holds you and says gently into your hair:

"You deserve everything, alright? Growin' my kid in there can't be easy. And if he's anythin' like his old man, then I know he's wanting some dinner."

[youronlydarlin]

warning: kinda sad ANGST, Simon losses you :( , ooc kinda?? But he's soft for you only, trust me bro

This was kinda inspired by that one part in the comics where our poor, Si holds his mums skull, n he jus'... Kinda nuzzles into it. I dunno it just bought on some sad feeling, mkay...

Simon who slightly raises the cup of tea he's drinking each time he has one, just to let you know he's relaxing. Or trying his best too, at least. Doesn't know what he'll do if he worried you from beyond the grave. Sometimes he looks at all the belongings you left behind. Saying how they probably miss you, but not nearly as much as he does.

Unlike some, Simon uses your things. He doesn't want the house to go through the pain of loosing you too. So he drinks from your mug, and sits on your chair. Reads your favorite books, but never takes out the book marks in case you want to continue reading them. He also completes your bucket list for you, and even though he's the one doing them he always whispers 'good job, to the wind, hoping they'll carry the messenge to you.

Simon who speaks to your framed pictures. He remembers each, and every memory behind them. "Bet your happy... Now it'll always be my turn to grab the 'bloody groceries.." he jests. He hopes that one made you laugh. Knowing you, you would've. It's a mystery how you always laughed at his lame jokes. Though your laugh's always been better than the awful punchlines.

Simon who passes by that cafe you bugged him to go with you to, and he feels his throat go dry. He never got to take you there because of a sudden call from Price, telling him about an urgent, albeit sudden, mission. He definitely regrets not taking you out on dates more often. There's so many shops opening that he knows you would've loved to see.

Simon who's heart breaks at how quickly the world turns without you. Everything's moving so quickly, leaving him behind like it's already moved on, and he hates it. He hates how there's less clothes to fold now. Food is served, but only for one. The taste of it is flavorless, and dry. It's times like these, that he wishes he should have took the time and learn your recipes.

But what's worse, is that your side of the bed is cold. And it'll remain that way forever. At times he'll reach for you absentmindedly. Nightmares about war traded for dreams about you, but during those dreamless nights where sleep doesn't visit he'll stroke your pillow the same way he'd do to keep your hair out of your face, and pull the covers over the empty space you once occupied. He wonders if it's cold where you are right now. But just know that he's always willing to warm you up if ever you come back.

Simon who...

Stands at the doorway. Bag slinged over his shoulder, full of everything he needs and more for deployment. He knows he can't leave without properly saying goodbye, so he fishes out his wallet, and digs out a picture of you. He holds it up to his face, and it's funny. How you're not even staring at the camera when the photo was taken. No, you were staring at him. This one's always been his favorite. So he clears his throat, and wishes you don't hear the slight shake in his tone.

"..By now you would've told me to be careful.. And I will, by the way. But, m' sorry for all the times I didn't...'

....

" I have to go now. Don't need them gettin' on my ass for 'being late.. so.."

....

"..You just rest now, ok, love? There's nothing else for you to worry about' anymore. I love you, always. Wish me, and the boys luck, yeah?.."

He gives a light kiss to your photo, and it's as if you're with him when he steps outside the door..

a/n: This was a challenge to write, and I don't know what to feel about the results. I'm just polishing my english, I guess. M'not good at writing angst, you can probably tell, also my grammar feels off on this one, again. English isn't my first language, sorry. So please correct me on any mistakes I've made! But putting all that aside, I hope you like this more than I do! And, always remember that you are loved, and cared for! Have an amazing day, my darlings!

Yours, truly,

–dolly

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Prompt List: Fantasy/Sci-Fi (8)

Masterpost by creativepromptsforwriting

Of Angels and Demons

The Demon smirked. Soon he would have both, the other’s body and soul. (Prompt #11)

Chasing demons away seems to be so much more fun on TV. (Prompt #131)

"You're an angel." "Am I? What's an angel without its wings?" (Prompt #229: Quotes)

Who needs a guardian angel when you can have a half-decent demon? (Prompt #248)

It wasn't the vases and the glasses that got knocked over everyday that annoyed him the most about his new roommate. It was in the morning when he woke up with a too warm body next to him and a mouth full of feathers that he thought he definitely didn't sign up for this when he became a demon. (Prompt #264)

"What can I say? Opposites attract." "That is really not a good excuse for sleeping with a bloody angel!" (Prompt #284)

"Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?" "It ripped out my wings, so yes, it did hurt." (Prompt #293)

When people think about angels, they think about golden locks, white wings and fluffy clouds under their innocent white dresses. But even though there are angels with blond hair and white wings they definitely have better things to do than sitting on a cloud and playing the harp all day. (Prompt #314)

"So this doesn't bother you?" "Honestly the wings are kinda disconcerting." (Prompt #345: x)

"I don't get love stories. Two random people meet and both think the other is cool and they tell each other? Totally unrealistic." "But, honey, that’s how we met and why we're married now." "Yes. Totally unrealistic." (Prompt #543)

"You said you were an angel!" "Oh, I was. I must have forgotten to tell you about the 'fallen' part." (Prompt #589)

In the deepest dark of night, a woman waits for her demon lover. (Prompt #602: x)

"Out of the all the demon's I've exorcised… Why won't you budge?" "Cause I'm not a demon, Father. I'm a God." (Prompt #603: x)

"Can we go on one date without you causing someone trauma?" "Babe, I'm a demon. What do you expect me to do?" (Prompt #644: x)

Having a high-ranking demon on speed dial did come in handy sometimes. (Prompt #764)

If you believe in angels, you have to believe in demons too. (Prompt #766)

Sometimes when you do stupid stuff, you just know your guardian angel will be disappointed in you. (Prompt #1052)

Sometimes guardian angels don’t have a lovely singing voice and a set of fluffy wings, sometimes they have a deep frown on their face and a very bad attitude. (Prompt #1073)

It's nice to be safe, but why does your guardian angel have to hold your hand all the time to keep you safe. (Prompt #1090)

Write about an angel and a demon who team up together and try to hide their partnership from their respective bosses. (Prompt #1113)

More: Guardian Angel Prompts

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[meowpupp]

hiii can I request some fluff with puppy reader and Price pleaseeeee

(injury & comfort)

Price comes home to find reader with a bloody bandage around her fingers and palm from accidentally dropping a glass of water. she’s so desperate to clean it, scared he would get mad at her but he actually doesn’t gaf abt the mess and just wants to take care of his sweetheart 😓🙏

poor puppy girl who stands in front of the bathroom sink, tears blurring her vision as she desperately tries to wash away the blood. bandages are already set out, a trashbag full of broken glass and bloody tissues sitting in the corner of the room.

heart beating quickly, the feeling of fear almost making you choke. your hands are shaky as you dry them, the towel spotting bright red now. you don't even notice as price enters the house, door as he approaches, hands reaching for your wrists.

his heart breaks as you yelp, teary eyes wide and scared. you look so little, vulnerable. "shhh, s'okay puppy. show me." his voice is soft and rumbly, but still has the undertone of dominance that makes you instantly obey.

your hands tremble as you let him take them, blood still slowly seeping from the cut. "sorry, m so sorry, didn't- didn't mean to make a mess. I tried to clean the glass up, im sorry-"

he cuts you off, kissing the cut on your finger. prices eyes are soft and warm as they meet yours. "you're okay sweetheart. youre not in trouble love, just an accident." he pulls you tight, back against his chest.

he talks you through it, describing each step he goes through as he bandages your hand. he knows the deep rasp of his voice calms you, providing both comfort and distraction.

he uses the bandaids he specifically bought for you. brightly coloured with your favourite character on them.

once he's done, price turns you around. one big arm wraps around your back, the other tangling in your hair as he pulls you close. he gently shushes you, letting you feel the rhythm of his breath, breathe in the musk and cigar scent that clings to him.

"never need to apologise for living sweetheart. would never be mad over an accident," he kisses the side of your head, "you're safe here, I've got you sweet girl. such a good pup for trying to clean it up, m'sorry you got hurt baby,"

he smiles softly as you finally relax, unable to resist the warmth and warmth he radiates, "my precious girl. so, so good f'me."