#i just do not think this is a serious concern!

[stainedglassvariations]

LADS and Claymores

Inspired by the lovely @heartswithinreach and her amazing imagines. I haven't posted anything on tumblr for YEARS, but I love the boys so much I decided to give it another go!

Inspired by the fact that I am, for the first time in my twenty three years of life, a heavy weapon main in this game. Minor spoilers for some of the main story and yes, no Sylus. I'm trying to be a good girl and not skip ahead so I haven't met him yet :(

Zayne is concerned. Throwing all that weight around everyday applies serious stress on your body, and he wants to make sure you’re taking care of yourself. Are you consuming enough protein, carbs, and water to aid in your muscle recovery? What about your sleep schedule? You are making sure to stretch before and after work, right? You always feel a little dizzy whenever you have dinner together, trying to keep up with his rapid fire questions. 

On a softer note, he always offers a massage whenever you come home with him. His evol leaves his hands blessedly cool as he rubs soothing circles in your knots. By the time he finishes, you’re a boneless, half-asleep heap on his bed. They also make up for the foul smelling horse pills he expects you to take with a full glass of cherry juice in the morning. 

During combat, he stays clear. He knows his strengths, and they don’t include trying to keep up with your great-sword swinging self. He can, however, freeze the feet of your targets which gives you ample time to wind up a decisive, fatal blow. And… you do look lovely under a shower of ice and Metaflux. 

Rafayel is upset. It’s hard to be your knight in shining armor when you’re swinging around a sword as tall as he is! Not that he wants you to be a damsel in distress anymore or anything, but a part of him misses the way you once needed him to come to your rescue. Plus, his flames and dagger are just a piss-poor combo when it comes to your team ups. You spend more energy making sure you don’t end up cleaving your favorite artist in two than you do fighting Wanderers.

Now, outside of fights, it’s a bit of a different story. If you can handle the weight of a claymore then surely holding him in your lap for hours on end is nothing in comparison, right? Oh, and he needs help moving a second wardrobe into his bedroom, you don’t mind do you? While you’re at it, Thomas is having a new frame delivered for his newest portrait so could you please bring that in with you?

You roll your eyes at the majority of his requests, but he always looks so genuinely put out whenever he sees you materialize your sword for combat that you don’t have the heart to say no. 

Xavier is confused. What’s wrong with a normal sword, why do you need one that’s almost as big as he is? You honestly don’t have an answer for him outside of “I like the way it feels” and “it’s hard to be scared shitless when you’ve got a big ass sword”. 

Really, watching you swing that thing around makes him feel tired. More so than usual he means. You’re not built for prolonged combat, so you go into every fight ready to put down the threat as quickly as humanly possible. He dutifully marches in after you, cleaning up the Wanderers lucky enough to escape your initial slaughter. 

It does make it weird for him whenever you ask him to open jars or help lift heavy boxes outside of work, though. Do you really need his help opening this pickle jar or are you just feeling lazy and don’t want to apply the effort? Your silence is telling. 

BONUS:

Caleb thinks you’re kidding. He laughs when you tell him that you chose to specialize in two-handed weapons, and then he sees your Hunter’s application. What follows is the most bizarre fight the two of you have ever had.

He asks you if you hit your head on the way to register or if you’re just stupid which immediately puts you on the defensive. When you deny both these things, he proceeds to lecture you on the long term consequences of muscle damage as if that’s the biggest thing you’ll have to worry about when you’re going to be out hunting literal aliens. Surprise, surprise, that makes him even more mad. 

In the end, the truth comes: he hates that you’re becoming a Deepspace Hunter. It’s a surprising show of vulnerability that makes your chest go tight and your knees weak. You toe the ground, suddenly too shy to look up at his face, and mumble something about switching over to mid-range pistols before hightailing it out of his room. You don’t, of course, you forget somewhere in the two minutes it takes to wrench open your bedroom door and dive under the covers. The look on his face when he sees you going through some exercises while back home from basic almost, just almost, makes it worth it.

[pinkynana]

am i the asshole for being possessive about my childhood friend's virginity?

Summary: It has been awhile since you last met renjun. Perhaps your last encounter was right after graduation. You’re back in your old neighborhood, having drinks with your favorite childhood best friend. And it slipped out of you that you had never had sex, despite a whole semester in college. Renjun took that as an invitation. Afterall, you experienced every one of your firsts with Renjun.

word count: 2k

warnings: noncon to dubcon, dacryphyllia, bondage, possessive renjun, fake sympathy, creampie.

tell me if i missed anything.

It feels good to open up the window and see that familiar face of your best friend since diapers. Renjun was already smiling at you the moment you slid your curtains away. “It’s been so long!” He yelled. He had to, considering the few meters of distance between his window and yours. You noticed that he was still in a suit, probably just got home from some important business. “I know right! Wanna grab some drinks?” 

“Oh, I already have some in my room.” 

“Really? Well in that case..” 

You stepped backwards into your bedroom, just to sprint, jumping out of your window, landing on the roof of Renjun’s first floor. With that safe land, you crawled up to Renjun’s window, welcoming yourself inside as if the room was your own. “Still crazy as always I see.” he giggled. 

“Wouldn't be me if it isn’t crazy.” 

-

Renjun had your first kiss. 

At 16, you still had a crush on Tobey Maguire’s spiderman although Andrew Garfield already had two amazing spiderman movies. You skipped evening class to watch the rerun of the first three spiderman movies. Renjun came with. He didn't have evening class like you did. He didn't need them, he’s smart unlike you. 

Once the movies were over, you refused to go home. You knew you'd earn an earful and maybe some beatings once you get home because your mom would be furious that you had skipped class just to watch movies. Instead, you were at the playground, climbing on the monkey bars. 

“It’s getting late, y’know.” Renjun waited for you, sitting at the swings. “Renjun! Come join me! I feel like Spiderman. Do you think there's a spidergirl out there, maybe?” You never touched a marvel comic, obviously. Renjun huffed when you ignored his comment. He did, however, come towards you. He didn't climb the bars though. He let you have all the fun to yourself. He watched as you hung your feet on the bar as you let your body dangling upside down. You let out a laugh. 

“Wouldn't it be cool to have my first kiss just like the upside down kiss from the movie?” He didn't answer, which concerned you. “Renjun?”

Before you knew it, he cupped your face as he planted a kiss right there where you were hanging your body upside down on the monkey bars. 

The next day you pretended like it never happened and continued being his best friend as usual. 

-

The first time you watched porn, it was with Renjun. You were only 16, receiving a usb drive that may or may not give your computer a virus from a fellow classmate. As soon as your extracurricular activities ended, you ran straight to Renjun’s room. He had gone home earlier as he wasn't involved in the same club as you. You slammed the door shut behind you, hugging your backpack against your chest. 

“What are you doin-”

“Shh!” You locked the door of his bedroom. “Take out your laptop.” you ordered him, walking towards his study desk as your hand took out the pendrive from your bag. you tossed the bag to his bed. Renjun didn't question you when he took out his laptop. He only did when you suddenly plugged in the drive into it without telling you what it was. 

“Hey! What is that?” 

“Porn.” 

“What? Are you serious?” 

“Well, it might not be. I won't take the risk on my laptop though.” He groaned once he figured out your plan. You were afraid that the drive you received might give your laptop a virus so you risked it on his instead. How typical of you. “Why are you interested in that anyway?” The file was right in front of your eyes when he asked that. “Because..” You clicked on the first folder.” “I’m curious.” Renjun rolled his eyes at your answer. He leaned back against his chair as you did what you wanted on his laptop. The video started to play and you took a seat on his bed. You partially heard Renjun saying something to you but you were too focused on the two actors on his screen. You involuntarily gasped when the man inserted his penis into the woman's vagina. The sound out of you made Renjun turn his head and you held a second of eye contact with him. 

That eye contact suddenly made you realize how invasive you were and how intimate this whole action is. You shouldn't be watching porn with Renjun. Sure, he's your best friend but he's still a man. The realization made you stand on your feet, grabbing your backpack with you. 

“I fulfilled my curiosity. Gotta go. Bye!” You wore your backpack as you ran towards his bedroom door to leave. “Wait, what about the drive?!” He yelled as you had already exited the room 

“Keep it!”

-

The first friendship breakup was also with Renjun. You were both 17 when you fought about Renjun’s choice for college. He wanted to try for early admissions while you were still struggling to choose a course, let alone a college to aim for. It was too early to think about life after highschool, according to you. 

Early in the morning, when usually you would either ride on the backseat of Renjun’s bike, you rode on your own bike. You purposely waited for Renjun to come out so it’ll look like you two had coincidentally come out at the same time. You glared at him before you took your seat and started paddling to school. 

What upsetted you more was the fact that Renjun paddled faster as he slid right past you, not even looking your way. 

By the time you arrived at the bike parking, Renjun was seen leaning against the wall, looking like he was waiting for you. That warmed up your heart a bit. You locked your bike in then came to him. “You got something to say to me?” You raised an eyebrow at him, trying to look cool. “Yeah, I got in.” 

Your face dropped. “See you at your graduation, y/n.” 

Truth be told, that was probably your first heartbreak. 

-

You cried in front of Renjun for the first time (not including the time when you were kids) when he actually showed up to your highschool graduation. You didn't look for your parents when you stepped on the stage. Your eyes scanned the audience to look for your best friend who said he'd meet you again today. But he was nowhere to be seen. You tried to brush it off, not letting it ruin your memorable day. As you took a picture with your mom, you see a familiar figure walking towards you, holding a bouquet of flowers. Without even realizing, tears had started to fall from your eyes. You didn't waste any time running to him, giving him a big hug. And he wrapped his arms around you so perfectly too. You sobbed messily in between your tears. 

“We never even said goodbye.. I never even apologized.. I was so immature.. I mean, it was just a few months ago, but still!.. I’m older and wiser now.” You huffed, sobbed, sniffed and maybe even hiccuped. 

Renjun just laughed at your state. You knew that he would forgive you in a heartbeat, as long as you said you were sorry. 

“I’m sorry, Renjun. I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I was such a dick to you, I’m so sorry,” 

-

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry..” Now, he was on top of you with your wrists tied on his bed frame with his neck tie that he was wearing just a few minutes ago. His shirt was unbuttoned and he had taken off your shorts just now. “Renjun, you're being scary..” Without even realizing, tears had started to fall from your eyes. Renjun leaned down to kiss your cheek where your tears ended. 

“I’m sorry, I just..” One of his hands caressed your face while the other started unbuckling his belt. “Please don't be scared of me. I just have to do this. I gotta be your first.” This was nowhere near the Renjun you knew and grew up with. If he was gentle with it, if he was maybe romantic with it, then you would probably allow this to happen. But this isn't the caring gentleman you were best friends with. You had no clue who this man before you was. “Fuck, you look so pretty crying.” You noticed how hard he was once he took his slacks and his boxers off. 

“Renjun, I’m scared.” You whimpered, hoping to gain mercy from him. “No no no no, baby. Don't be scared.” He gave your lips a peck. “Trust me, baby. You trust me, right?” Again, if he had been gentle with you, you probably would have nodded your head. Instead you shook it furiously, “Renjun, please.. I’ll- I’ll suck your cock, or.. or I’ll give you a handjob. Just, please don't fuck me.” 

“No.. please. As much as that sounds tempting, I need to fuck you. I’ve always been your first. Remember? Just trust me.” He wiped away your tears with his thumb. And with that same thumb, he reached down to your pussy as he started to rub your clit in circles, making sure that you’d start to get wet. You squirmed at the pleasure that you wish never came. “There.. See? You like it.” After he was sure you were wet enough, he took your panties off with one swift. 

“Your pussy is excited to see me, baby.” You looked away in embarrassment at his comment. He slid a finger from your hole to your clit, collecting your pussy juice as he licked it off. He then jerked himself off a few times before he aligned his tip on your pussy. “Trust me, okay?” He said before he slid in with a groan. “Perfect fucking pussy.” He moaned. 

At this point, you knew there was no escaping anymore. Might as well enjoy it while it lasted. You closed your eyes shut, trying to imagine that Renjun was someone else. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't think of anyone. Because deep down, you always knew that you had liked Renjun for a long time. Though this wasn't the ideal situation, you always wanted it to happen. More tears started to fall out as you felt ashamed of yourself for feeling good from his thrust. “Fuck.. I get harder the more you cry, baby. You're such a pretty crier.” With his cussing, he went on faster and harder, earning loud moans from you. 

You felt Renjun getting sloppier by the minute and you guessed that it was because he was close and you started to panic. “Renjun.. Renjun.. pull out! We have no protection. Don't cum inside of me! Please, Renjun.” But all you received from him was more groans and cusses. “Just.. just trust me. It’ll be fine. I’m sorry, trust me.” The more he said the word trust, the smaller the trust you actually had for him. But all you could do was let him fuck your wet pussy since you're too weak to even pull yourself out of the knot that Renjun tied above your head. 

And just in a few more thrusts, he had poured his semen into you. With jagged breaths, he still muttered some more apologies to you but you paid it no mind. It’s not like he actually meant it anyway. 

He planted one more kiss on your lips before he pulled out and laid beside you on his bed. He untied the necktie away from you but you still couldn't break free as he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close and hugging you tight. “I’m sorry, angel.” he said again. He caressed your hair, fixing up any messy strands. “I’ll get you cleaned, okay?” With that, he picked you up and took you to his bathroom where he cared for you like the Renjun you always knew your whole life. 

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Crash Course

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

word count: 822

pairing: Lando Norris x driver!reader

summary: Y/n returns to the paddock after recovering from her injuries, and Lando confronts her with his growing feelings

______________________________________________________________

The days following the crash were a blur for Y/n, filled with recovery sessions and endless interviews about the accident. The media buzzed with speculation, talking more about the rivalry between her and Lando than about the championship itself. Everyone wanted to know if the tension between them had reached a breaking point.

But Y/n couldn’t stop thinking about what Lando had said. His confession kept replaying in her mind, stirring something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel before. She kept pushing it aside, trying to focus on her recovery and the upcoming races, but it lingered in the back of her thoughts, persistent and confusing.

A few days later, Y/n was back at the paddock, still moving a little stiffly but determined to show everyone she was ready to race again. She walked through the garage, her team bustling around her, making sure everything was in place for the next practice session.

As she sat down to review some data, she felt a presence behind her before she heard the voice.

“Back so soon?” Lando’s voice was light, but she could hear the edge of concern behind it.

Y/n glanced over her shoulder, seeing him leaning casually against the wall, hands in his pockets. He looked relaxed, but his eyes were studying her closely, as if assessing whether she was really okay.

“Did you expect me to stay away?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “I can’t let you have all the fun, can I?”

Lando smirked, pushing off the wall and walking closer. “Just making sure you’re not pushing yourself too hard.”

“I’m fine,” Y/n insisted, though the slight wince as she shifted in her seat betrayed her.

Lando noticed, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You sure about that?”

Y/n sighed, rolling her eyes. “You sound like my doctor.”

“Maybe I should be,” he teased, but there was an underlying sincerity in his tone. “Look, I just… I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

Y/n paused, the playful banter between them losing its edge. There it was again—that concern, that softness. She wasn’t used to this version of Lando, and it made her feel off-balance.

“Why do you care so much?” she asked quietly, looking up at him.

Lando hesitated, his playful smile fading. He glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot before sitting down on the chair next to hers. “Because I meant what I said, Y/n. After the crash, when you almost collapsed… I realized how much I care. More than I probably should.”

Her heart skipped a beat, the air around them growing thick with tension. “Lando…”

“I know we’re rivals,” he continued, his voice low and serious. “And we’re both fighting for the championship, but… that doesn’t change how I feel.”

Y/n’s pulse quickened, her thoughts racing. This was happening—he was actually saying it, putting into words what had been unspoken between them for so long. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. How could she explain the way she felt, when she wasn’t even sure herself?

Seeing her hesitation, Lando sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, I get it. This is complicated. And if you don’t feel the same way, we can forget it—”

“No,” Y/n interrupted, her voice firm. She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. “It’s not that. I just… I’ve been so focused on beating you, on proving I’m the best, that I didn’t stop to think about anything else.”

Lando’s eyes softened, a glimmer of hope flickering in his expression. “And now?”

Y/n looked at him, the weight of her feelings settling in her chest. “Now, I’m starting to realize there’s more to this than just the rivalry.”

For a moment, they sat in silence, the noise of the paddock fading into the background as they looked at each other, a silent understanding passing between them. The tension that had always existed between them was still there, but it had changed—shifted into something neither of them had expected.

Lando leaned in slightly, his voice barely above a whisper. “So… what now?”

Y/n swallowed hard, her heart racing. She knew they couldn’t just flip a switch and change everything. They were still competitors, still fighting for the same title. But maybe—just maybe—they could be something more, too.

“I guess we see what happens,” she replied softly, her eyes locking with his.

Lando’s lips curled into a small smile. “I like the sound of that.”

Before they could say anything else, Y/n’s team called her over for a briefing. She stood up, feeling Lando’s eyes on her as she turned to leave. Just before she walked away, she glanced back at him, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Maybe this wasn’t the end of their rivalry—but it could be the beginning of something else. Something that neither of them had been prepared for, but now seemed impossible to ignore.

[lvnleah]

Hi!! I said about lotte earlier, I’d love some kind of lotte x reader maybe early in relationship and reader has a fight with her family which she ends up spilling to the team in changing room/ team night. lotte instinctively gets really protective/ angry which puts their relationship to the group? or maybe something to do with a creepy fan at a match, lotte gets protective and their relationship is shared online? feel free to make any changes ❤️❤️

Under Pressure | Lotte Wubben-Moy

thank you so much for this request <33

word count: 900 a little short one!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The hum of the changing room settled as you took a deep breath, peeling your training top off. The atmosphere was filled with the usual banter, chatter about the training session, weekend plans, and who got the most nutmegs that day. You had kept quiet for most of the day, a smile here and there, nodding along to your teammates’ chatter. But your mind was still spinning, replaying the argument with your family earlier that day.

You had walked out of that conversation, your head pounding, feeling like you had been run over by a truck. You couldn’t shake the hurtful words, the way their disbelief in your relationship with Lotte had made you feel so small. It was one thing for them to disapprove of your career in football, but to disapprove of her, of something that made you so happy, was a punch to the gut.

You and Lotte had been together for three months now, after being friends for so long you both decided it was time to try something new. Your family had never approved of you being a footballer let alone you being in a relationship with a woman.

“You okay?” Leah nudged you, bringing you back to reality instead of being inside of your head.

You forced a smile. “Yeah, just a bit tired. Didn’t get a lot of sleep.”

She didn’t seem convinced but thankfully didn’t push further. You were grateful for that, not sure if you’d be able to keep up the fake smile much longer. You wanted to scream, to vent, to let it all out, but you were also terrified of breaking down in front of everyone.

Later that night, the team decided to head to a local pub. A night out with the team was meant to be a distraction. The usual post-training hangout was filled with laughter, clinking glasses, and friendly teasing. But the mask you wore all day was starting to crack. Lotte, sitting across from you, noticed too. Her eyes flickered with concern, and she reached out under the table, her hand squeezing yours. It was a simple gesture, but it almost made you crumble.

“Babe, are you sure you’re okay?” she whispered, leaning in close so only you could hear. Her voice was gentle, her thumb brushing against your knuckles.

You nodded, but the lump in your throat only grew. “Yeah, just family stuff.”

You could see the flicker of anger in her eyes, her jaw tightening slightly. She hated that you were hurting and hated even more that it was because of them. You loved her protective side, but right now, you needed her to stay calm. The last thing you wanted was to drag the team into this.

But the dam broke when someone asked innocently about your family. “They still giving you grief about football?” Viv asked, her tone light but laced with genuine concern.

You hesitated, the weight of the day pressing down on you. “Not just about football,” you muttered, and the words spilled out before you could stop them. “They… they don’t understand why I’m with Lotte. They don’t think it’s serious, and they don’t think she’s… right for me.”

Silence settled over the group. You looked up to find everyone staring at you, the concern and sympathy evident in their faces. You felt exposed, vulnerable, and you wished you could take the words back, shove them down where they wouldn’t see the light of day.

Lotte’s hand tightened around yours, “That’s bullshit,” she said, “You deserve better than that.”

Your eyes widened, and you tried to give her a look, something to tell her to calm down, but she was on a roll now, her anger radiating off her in waves. “They don’t know what they’re talking about. You’re amazing, and if they can’t see that, then screw them. You don’t need their approval.”

The room was silent, everyone watching the two of you with wide eyes. It dawned on you then that she had said all this in front of the entire team. It wasn’t like you were hiding your relationship, but you hadn’t exactly put it out there either. You had wanted to keep it private, to let it grow naturally, without the pressure of everyone knowing. But now, there it was, out in the open.

You swallowed hard, glancing around the table. Leah was looking at you with a small, knowing smile, Viv and Beth exchanged a look, and the rest of the team seemed to be processing this new information.

“Uh, well, I guess that’s out now,” you said with an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of your neck.

Lotte turned to you, her anger melting away, replaced by a soft, almost apologetic expression. “Sorry, I just… I hate seeing you like this. I didn’t mean to…”

You shook your head, squeezing her hand. “It’s okay. I just hate that they get to me so much.”

She smiled softly. “I’m sorry.”

You leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”

A collective “awww” went around the table, and you could feel your cheeks burning as you pulled away, but you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. Maybe it wasn’t how you planned to reveal your relationship, but looking around at the team’s warm, accepting smiles, you realised it didn’t matter.

[yuurivoice]

Hi Yuuri I just wanted to say I miss Howell. That’s all I hope you have a good day😊

I do too! There's still a lot about him I want to know and figure out. I was able to delve into him a bit more (and get some much needed closure) with some friends. I don't think he's really a character that I want to do various iterations of in different worlds and campaigns, because it's that specific story of his that I love. If it's removed from that world and story, I'd rather have another shot at a new character.

I was able to salvage a couple of relationships out of the rubble from the entire ordeal surrounding TnD, and I've got no beef with anyone who wasn't literal human trash, so Howell's place in my heart is unscathed in terms of being attached to a really shitty time and situation.

Reflecting on those days, that shit was a nightmare scenario. Obviously my own emotional turmoil pales in comparison to the literal criminal and victim in our midst, don't get that twisted because those most directly impacted by one asshole's actions should be the primary concern. It is a hell of a pill to swallow having something that dear to you go up in flames in such a public and grotesque way.

I don't blame anyone who feels any type of way about how it was handled and the aftermath of it. The truth of it all is, one person's really fucked up actions had widespread effects on a lot of people. The radius of that bomb was no joke.

Howell is very dear to me, and those Sundays were genuinely the favorite day of the week for me over that time. The backlash, anger, resentment, and then emptiness of it all really took its toll, as I'm sure it did on everyone caught in the blast zone.

The bad guy got got in the end, and I'm thankful for the folks who made sure that happened.

That year as a whole was really difficult. That wasn't the only heavy thing I had to work through that year. There was a stretch of six months that were probably the worst of my adult life in terms of interpersonal turmoil. The universe really took a bat to my kneecaps.

Saying ALLLLLLLL of that to say, if I had lost my love for Howell, it would have taken a significant toll on me creatively. I would not so freely share the parts of myself it takes to create the stories and characters I do now. I can pretty confidently say that something like Echoes or Shattered would never happen.

I struggled mightily with BitterSweet Chapter 3 for that reason. It was hard to want to carve out pieces of myself to share with the world, and certainly very difficult to work with anyone else out of fear that their bad actions could rob me of my passion even more.

But I learned a lot, and over that time I also think I was able to show my community how serious situations get handled while I'm at the helm. I hate that me and the team have been on the frontlines of a few really serious community PR nightmares, but I do think we've been able to exhibit an ability to treat things with maturity, respect, and direct action.

So Howell means a lot to me. We've been on two journeys, one fictional, and one real...and boy we've gotten our asses kicked more than a few times.

There is a chance, albeit a small one, that there's a DnD story to be told with Howell and some friends, for the world to partake in. Don't know if it'll happen, but the chances aren't 0%...

[waywardxrhea]

Better Late Than Never - Matt Murdock

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Detective!reader

Your teamwork with Daredevil to take down a dangerous gun trafficking gang leads to your life being on the line more than once.

word count: 6,280

content: hurt/comfort, two idiots in love, canon typical violence, guns, blood, car violence, forced sedative use, binds and gags (not the fun kind lol), beating as an interrogation tactic, knife use

a/n: this was done for an anon request! i was given lots of free reign with this one so this is what i came up with for the request of Reader getting captured and Matt/Daredevil has to attempt to rescue!

ps idk why, but i pictured Tom Ellis as the face and voice claim of the gang leader? not the intention, but it just kinda happened lol picture whoever you would like!

“Thank you for your time, and again, I’m sorry for the misunderstanding,” you said to the young woman you had arrested the week prior as she walked out of the precinct, shooting you a dirty look on her way through the door. 

You had found her in possession of a weapon that was unregistered and untraceable, so you took her in and had the gun run against the database to confirm your suspicions about the weapon. Captain Mahoney had recently assigned you to work on a case of an organized crime gang who were trafficking guns, so you were on high alert for any weapons that matched their MO. Turned out your hunch was right and the gun matched up with the weapon used in a murder a few weeks prior to her arrest. The detectives on the case were having trouble tracking down who the killer was, so when the gun’s tool marks matched up exactly, everyone was happy to have someone in custody for the crime. 

The woman never once swayed from her story of innocence though, so naturally, she lawyered up. Her innocence was proven just hours before by a pair of talented attorneys from the law offices of Nelson, Murdock, and Page. You looked up to see one of her lawyers coming toward you with a smug look on his face as he approached, the rhythmic tap-tap-tap of his cane not unfamiliar to you at this point. “I guess you can’t be right all the time, Detective,” Matt Murdock said to you as he came to a halt mere feet from you. 

You looked out at the bustling New York sidewalk where the woman had been moments before, and told him, “I’m just glad she didn’t go away for something she didn’t do. She ended up having a solid alibi and we found grainy footage of some thug slipping the gun into her purse the night I arrested her. I don’t think we would have known to look if it wasn’t for you and Foggy.”

“That’s what we’re here for,” he said, a small smile teasing the corners of his lips. There was a moment of silence before Matt spoke again, telling you, “Nice job, by the way, taking down that serial mugger last week. The streets already feel safer because of you.”

“Oh, you heard about that?” you asked curiously. Truthfully, it had been such a cut and dry case, you never followed up on what happened after the arrest.

“Yeah, when he hired us as his lawyers. Obviously, he was guilty, so we got him to take a deal,” Matt replied with a quiet chuckle. You watched as an almost cocky smirk curled up one side of his lips before he added quietly, “He said you were a little rough with the handcuffs?”

You leaned casually onto the wall beside you, crossing your arms loosely with a cheeky smile plastering your lips as you asked, “You’d like to know, wouldn’t you, Murdock?”

Before he could respond, an older officer who was wandering past barked out your last name and said, “Hey! What are you doing fraternizing with the enemy? He’s the reason so many of my arrests walk, you know!”

“Are you encouraging her not to listen to serious concerns from a constituent in her jurisdiction? I was just telling her how safe I feel now that she's on the case and taking serial criminals off our streets,” Matt said to him, his quick defense of you and the lawyer-speak making your heart flutter in your chest. He straightened his tie with his free hand not holding his cane and added, “Maybe if your arrests would actually hold up in court, they wouldn’t walk.”

The other officer stalked off, mumbling something you couldn’t quite make out, but you guessed that Matt could judging by the way his jaw was working in frustration. Wanting to take his attention away from the stressor, you quietly cleared your throat and told him, “You look really nice today, by the way. The tie really flatters you.”

His gaze finally tore away from the man when you said this and the muscles in his jaw relaxed, a smile returning to his features as he said, “Well, I’m glad it isn’t horribly obscene.”

“You could wear the gaudiest of hats and a neon orange tie and you’d still look amazing, Counselor,” you told him, a playfulness in your tone as a smile teased your lips. 

Matt leaned in toward you slightly, his voice lowered and almost with a sultry quality to it as he asked, “Are you flirting with me, Detective?” 

The gesture and his proximity made your heart start pounding in your chest, the sound reverberating loudly in your ears as your eyes quickly darted down to his lips before focusing back on his eyes behind his red lenses. Your voice sounded foreign in your own ears as you breathlessly said, “And if I-”

“Okay you two! No more puppy eyes at each other! You’re cut off for the day!” came Foggy Nelson’s voice as he approached with Captain Mahoney beside him. Both you and Matt straightened up in response to his interruption, the space between you growing once more to one of more professional standards as the two men approached. 

Captain Mahoney playfully tsked at the pair of you before telling Matt, “Come on, Murdock! I need her sharp for the case we’re working on! I can’t have her daydreaming about you the whole time!”

“I don’t daydream…” you mumbled, averting your gaze to the ground in the hopes that the furious blush now taking over your cheeks would be less obvious that way. 

“And I don’t need you to start now,” Captain Mahoney said, a quiet chuckle leaving his chest. You glanced up to see him giving Foggy a pointed look before telling him and Matt, “Now, you two get out of my precinct! And don’t come back unless you have to!” 

“Don’t worry, we’ll be back with cigars for your mom soon!” Foggy said as he and Matt turned to leave the building. 

“Oh, no you won’t!” Captain Mahoney shouted back. 

“They totally will,” you said with a quiet laugh as you watched them disappear into the bustling crowd on the sidewalk. 

Before you could return to your desk, the Captain’s voice caught your attention as he asked, “When are the two of you gonna finally go on a date?”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you told him, shocked that he was discussing this with you. 

“Uh-huh, sure,” he said, not even trying to hide his smirk. 

Wanting the conversation to be off of your painfully obvious crush on Matt, you cleared your throat and asked, “Did you get a team together to head to the potential drop site with me tonight?”

“Yeah. It’ll be you, Stewart, Greene, and Campos,” he replied, relenting on his teasing, at least for now. “I had to make it a small team so you won’t be so obvious. You’ll go in plain clothes with bulletproof vests underneath. The four of you will have body cameras on at all times and I’ll be nearby in a van watching the feed with backup in case you need it.” 

“Sounds good, do the others know yet?”

“No, I was just about to find you all,” he said. “Meet me in my office in ten and we’ll discuss the full plan.”

That night once the sun had set and things were settling down as much as they could in New York City, you and your team of officers were making your way to the site where you were told the latest shipment of illegal guns was coming in. Dressed in plainclothes, the four of you ambled toward the site, Greene’s arm slung around your shoulders as she pretended to drunkenly stumble down the sidewalk while you brought a water bottle in a brown paper sack to your lips and took a long drink before pulling a face as if the contents tasted like cheap liquor on your tongue. Campos and Stewart flanked the two of you on either side, both of them also pretending to be unsteady on their feet as the four of you made your way toward the docks. 

Once the four of you got to a mostly hidden spot near where the shipment was supposed to be delivered, the act was dropped and you all crouched silently as you stared at the dock. The boat was scheduled to arrive in the next thirty minutes. As the time got closer, Campos leaned over and whispered, “Are you sure this is the right place?”

“This is where my source told me they would be,” you told him. 

Stewart, a slightly older officer, scoffed quietly and said sarcastically, “Yeah, Daredevil? Look, I know that after what happened with Fisk, Mahoney trusts him, but me personally? I think-”

“You should really listen to the detective in charge,” came the gravelly voice of the man in question as he perched on the structure across from the four of you. “Ghallagar got spooked since you’ve been onto his trail, so he moved the shipment a few docks down. If you hurry, you’ll be able to make it before the sale’s done.”

“And what’re you gonna do, huh?” Steward sneered. 

“Let New York’s Finest do their work,” Daredevil replied. “All I came here to do is make sure you can do your job.”

“Thank you, Daredevil,” you told the man in red graciously. He simply nodded before silently turning and making his way in the opposite direction. “Well, you heard the man, let’s go!” you told the others before gesturing for them to start getting up and heading in the direction of the new stakeout location. Before you could head off though, you spoke aloud so Captain Mahoney could hear, telling him, “The shipment’s being dropped off a few docks down. We’re heading there now. Control van can stay in place, it shouldn’t be too far from the original location.”

“Control van staying put, copy,” came the captain’s voice. “If you need backup just call.” 

“Will do,” you said before creeping your way to the front of the small pack. You had your service weapon drawn and pointed to the ground, but it was ready to be used at a moment’s notice. 

When the four of you arrived, the van for transport had just pulled up and you saw three men get out, heading over to meet with three more emerging from a small boat anchored at the dock. They were all armed to the teeth. It was clear that Ghallagar was not messing around. Before the guns could exchange hands, you motioned your crew forward. Staying slightly ahead of them, but fanned out, you raised your weapon and shouted firmly, “NYPD! Put the weapons down! Now!”

“Shit, we gotta go!” you heard one of the men from the boat crew shout before turning tail and running back to get the boat started. 

“Stop running! Put your hands where I can see them!” you shouted, firmer yet, as the four of you slowly creeped toward the men. 

“Get the guns! Now! We’ll hold ‘em off!” one of the gang men roared while gesturing for the shippers to grab their boxes. 

“Weapons down!” you warned. 

“I don’t think so!” the man in charge of the street crew snarled before opening fire. 

“Get to safety! I’ll provide cover!” you shouted at the other officers who quickly obeyed your command and hid behind shipping containers. In case Captain Mahoney hadn’t heard the gunfire, you shouted, ”Shots fired! I repeat, shots fired!” You heard more gunshots firing off from your side and watched as one man from the boat who was still on the dock got shot, a crimson spray of blood misting the air as the bullet made contact. 

Before you could make a move to back up and into an area of cover of your own, a rapid spray of bullets came flying toward you! You barely registered it as a second man from the street crew who had taken the heavy artillery weapon out of the van before the wind was knocked out of you completely and you were knocked onto your back. As you lay on the ground struggling to breathe due to the impact of so many bullets on your kevlar vest, you saw a blur of red dash past you and toward the dock. 

You barely registered the shouts of, “Officer down! Officer down!” from Greene as your heart pounded in your ears. Adrenaline rushed through your veins, but rather than pushing you up like it normally would, it froze you to the ground. 

When you were finally able to turn your head to see what was going on because you could no longer rely on your hearing, you saw the red-clad figure of Daredevil standing over a bloodied man who had crumpled to the ground. You saw his shoulders moving up and down as his chest heaved with the effort of the fight, his fists clenched at his sides as he stood menacingly over the body. His head jerked up as the van peeled away from the dock without their fallen man and the boat zoomed away into the water. 

Closing your eyes, you breathed a sigh of relief to know the fire fight was over. “Take care of him,” you heard Daredevil’s voice bark to the other officers. It sounded like he was getting closer to you. You attempted to take a deep breath, but groaned in pain as you did, earning a concerned, “What hurts?” from Daredevil as he came to crouch beside you on the cold ground. 

“Ribs. Stomach. Bullets to kevlar,” you managed to get out between shallow breaths, squeezing your eyes shut as more pain burst forward with every word. 

“I’ve got-” Daredevil started to say, but stopped abruptly. When he did, your tightly closed eyes were suddenly engulfed by light before more excruciating pain radiated throughout your body as you were lifted up and into Daredevil’s arms. As you moved through the air with your eyes snapped shut, you felt Daredevil nearly lose his balance as a blast of air jostled him. Opening your eyes for a brief moment, you saw the gang’s van flying past you, missing the pair of you by mere inches!

You came to a crashing halt right into his armored chest with a cry of pain a few moments later, your knees buckling under the weight of your body and the pain. “I’m right here, you’re okay. You’re safe,” he whispered, pulling you gently back up into his chest, his gloved hand supporting the back of your neck as he did. 

Through the ringing in your ears, you barely heard your name being called out as officer Greene and Captain Mahoney made their way over to you and the masked man. “Are you okay?!” Greene asked exasperatedly. “Those guys are maniacs! Santos barely got out of the way before he got hit!”

“I’ll-” you tried before groaning in pain once again. 

“Greene, make sure that bus is on the way and get an ETA, I can handle this,” Mahoney told her before you felt another set of hands on you to give support as you were peeled away from Daredevil’s chest. “I can’t believe they tried to hit you!” he grumbled. When you were able to open your eyes for a few moments you saw the deep scowl on his face as he shook his head, mumbling something you couldn’t quite make out through the cotton in your ears as your heart continued to pound relentlessly. 

It felt like mere moments before you were being put onto the gurney and being stabilized by the EMTs as you guarded your midsection while they worked. Glancing over, you noticed that since you were out of his arms, Daredevil was about to leave. Not wanting him to go without an acknowledgement of being the reason you were still alive, you managed to get out a weak, “Thank you. For saving me.” In response, he offered you a nod before sprinting off, leaving you to be taken to Metro General to be checked over. 

A few hours and exams later, you were released by the doctors at the hospital, being cleared of any breaks or concussion. You were simply sent home with massive bruising and told to take it easy the next few days with some pain killers. And although you protested, Captain Mahoney benched you for the next few days, telling you to stay home and heal up before returning for desk duty at the end of the week. 

It was understandable, being told that you would come back for desk duty after what happened, though. You were shot at by a heavy weapon and almost mowed down by a van, for Pete’s sake! You cheated death. Twice! But it still felt like a punishment. Riding the desk hadn’t ever been your style, and you hated to start now…

Reaching over to the nightstand near your bed in your apartment, you felt around for the bottle of Advil that had become your best friend the past couple of days. When you finally made contact with it, you opened the lid and turned the bottle in order to drop a couple pills into your hand, but nothing came out. Groaning in pain and frustration, you realized that you were out and hadn’t bought any before coming home after the hospital visit… Shit. You would have to go to the bodega down the street and get a new bottle.

Getting dressed was a task, and it took you a long time to get your sweats and t-shirt on in order to go to the shop. You didn’t even bother with sneakers, slipping into a pair of slides sitting by the door as you grabbed your purse off the hook and began making your way out of your apartment building. The walk was slow going and painful, the constant bustle of people around you on the sidewalk not helping as they shoved past you, your tender ribs and bruised abdomen taking hits that had you wanting to scream. 

The bodega thankfully had the medicine you were seeking. After paying for it and a bottle of water, you were taking the pills as you left the store, not wanting to wait a second longer for the pain relief you desperately sought. Before you could close up the pill bottle though, from the alleyway beside you, a pair of arms reached out and grabbed you! The pills scattered all around as you struggled to go into a defensive move you knew by heart in order to get out of the attacker’s grasp. But almost as if they knew you had bruised ribs, they squeezed your midsection, igniting your whole body in a searing pain that had you seeing stars. Taking a deep breath to scream turned out to be fruitless as only a weak cry tumbled out when your expanding ribcage violently protested the intake of air. 

“Gotcha,” said a gruff voice, their breath hot beside your ear as they spoke. After he did, you felt a needle enter your arm as he muttered, “Night, night. The boss can’t wait to see ya, Detective.”

When you came to, you blinked hard a few times, thinking that maybe it was all just a pain-induced nightmare. Reality hit you though when you tried to move your arms but couldn’t because they were tied behind you as you slumped over in an uncomfortable chair. Trying to remain as still as possible so as to not notify your captors of your conscious state, you took in your surroundings. 

You were shoved into a corner of the room, so you had a pretty good view of the space around you. Lining two of the four walls were crates upon crates, each marked with the symbol of the gun runners you had been tracking. So, that confirmed your suspicions about who had snatched you… On top of each box was a display of what gun was inside, small spotlights illuminating the weapon as if it was an art piece in a museum. Two men stood guard near the boxes with guns of their own holstered to keep the product safe. Another man sat in a chair nearby on his cell phone. Because of his proximity, you assumed he was supposed to be keeping an eye out for you to wake up.

There was a musty smell that permeated the air and the occasional drip of water echoing in the distance. It was a narrow room with a slightly rounded off ceiling, which you thought was odd. There was graffiti on the wall that seemed vaguely familiar to you, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on where you had seen the tag before… The far wall looked like it had collapsed long ago, and it held the only entrance to the area that you could see. It didn’t even have a door, it was just an opening in the collapse. Something more promising though that clued you into where you may be located was the unfinished rail tracks peeking out from under the collapsed rubble and the unused tracks that had been used as makeshift barriers to protect the guns. 

You must be in the tunnel where the city had tried building an additional subway line a few years before, but it collapsed before they could get too far. Neither you nor Daredevil had been able to figure out where the gang’s base of operations was located, and now it made total sense. The area the city had accessed to get into the underground area was sealed and forgotten about by the population at large. You didn’t even know where the entrance was, although you had your guesses. Any time you would chase a group of troubled teens you caught harassing a street vendor or tagging the window of a business, they would just disappear into thin air near 45th and 9th. That was where you knew the graffiti tag from! There must be an entrance into this place somewhere near there! Not that knowing where you were particularly helped you at the moment, but… If you made it out of here somehow, at least you knew the best way to get to safety. 

“Hey, look who finally decided to wake up,” said the man near you. A shiver zipped down your spine as you realized that it was the same voice that spoke in your ear when you were taken. “Thought we overdosed you there for a little while. Guess I’m not as good at calculating drug doses as I thought. Oh, well.”

“What do you want with me?” you tried to ask firmly, but your voice came out broken and scratchy from lack of use over however long you had been out. 

“You’re asking the wrong guy questions,” the man said in a bored sort of tone. “Hey, Reg! Call the boss-man and tell him she’s awake. He’ll want to talk to her.”

“That he will,” came a new voice. Your head turned toward the opening in the collapse and saw a man in a white button up and pressed slacks walking in, flanked on either side by burly looking men who you assumed were his guard. 

“Ghallagar…” you mumbled, narrowing your eyes at the man you had only ever seen in pictures from the original brief you were given on the case. The whole time he had been in the Kitchen, the man was practically a ghost, so this was your first time getting a good look at him. 

“Detective,” he said with a certain smugness in his voice as he approached you. He held your gaze for a few moments before asking his men, “May we have the room? I need some time alone with the detective. There are buyers coming in an hour. Make sure we have materials to hide this section of the space. We don’t need them to see what I’m about to do. Bad for business.”

“Yes sir,” one of the burly men replied before turning away and gesturing for all of the men in the room to follow. 

When it was just the two of you again, Ghallagar rolled up his sleeves as he said, “I bet you’re wondering why I had you taken.”

“The thought may have crossed my mind,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. What did he plan on doing to you? What did he-

A sharp slap across the face pulled you out of your thoughts. “You seem to have something I want.” Another slap in the other direction nearly toppled you out of the chair before he snarled, “And I intend on getting the information out of you.”

“What do you want?” you asked through gritted teeth, trying not to show any weakness to the man standing tall over you. You may be in the compromised position, but there was no way you were going to let this man break you. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t. 

“Tell me Daredevil’s identity,” Ghallagar said as if it was the most simple question in the world. As if he was asking the name of the cashier at your favorite bodega. 

“I don’t-” you tried, but stopped to let out a cry of pain when he sent a kick into your bruised midsection. 

“You’ve worked with him for months! Trying to find me, finding the gang whose place I took, taking down that mugger together. I could go on with all of the cases you’ve figured out with his help, Detective.” Before you could contain your emotions, your eyes widened momentarily, and that reaction caused a smirk to twist Ghallagar’s lips. “Yeah, that’s right. I know your case files. I have a folder with the names of every criminal you’ve taken down since you got out of the Academy.” He circled around to stand behind you and dug his thumbs into painful pressure points in your shoulders as he said, “You got to do your homework on me, I got to do my homework on you. It’s only fair, isn’t it? And it’s also fair for you to tell me who you’ve been working with since you’ve been such a thorn in my side!”

When he said that last part, a white-hot pain seared over your shoulder as he ran a knife over the skin there. You tried to bite your cheek to muffle your scream of pain, but only drew more blood than was already trickling out of the wound on your shoulder. Taking a deep breath to control yourself only made things worse and you let out another groan of pain as he circled back to stand in front of you. “I don’t know-” you tried again, but were cut off when he shoved the whole chair over with you in it. 

“Do you think I’m stupid?” he shouted as he sent another kick into your ribs, causing more pain to rock your already battered body. “The way he saved you that night on the docks! He made sure to go to you! The way he held you when he saved you from my men’s van! You know who he is, and it’s just a matter of time until I get it out of you!” 

“She was supposed to get back to work today, I haven’t seen her though. Not like her to be late…” was Brett’s response to Matt’s question about where you were. It was the morning you were supposed to be back after the incident at the docks, and Karen had suggested bringing you flowers. He didn’t hear you inside the building on his way there, though, so he hadn’t grabbed any before heading in to speak with a new client. 

“Have you tried calling her?” Matt asked. 

“Straight to voicemail. I was thinking of doing a welfare check myself here in a little bit if she doesn’t show up by noon,” Brett said with a sigh. A quiet chuckle left his chest before he added, “Don’t worry, I’ll get a hold of her, Lover Boy.”

Matt shook his head and laughed light-heartedly at the joke, telling Brett, “I appreciate it,” before he and Foggy left the precinct and headed to their office for the afternoon of case file sifting. 

Running his fingers over the braille case file in front of him, Matt had been fully engrossed in the complexities of this case for hours. Foggy had already called it quits for the night and went home, but he and Karen were still there, working to find an angle they could win this case at. “What if we played up the jury’s-” came Karen’s voice, but Matt tuned her out when he heard your name mentioned in the police chatter from a nearby cop cruiser. 

Officer missing after welfare check. Cameras show the officer’s last known location outside of a bodega before disappearing into an alleyway. Three days ago. 

Matt was out of his office chair and hurtling toward the door before Karen could even ask where he was going, calling over his shoulder that there was an emergency that he needed to deal with. He didn’t even bother with the cane as he ran, he and Karen were the only ones in the building anyway at this hour. He needed to get to his suit and he needed to get to it now. Your life may well depend on it. 

You weren’t sure how long the beatings went on for. There was no light that got into the collapsed tunnel so you couldn’t tell day from night. There didn’t seem to be any patterns on when guards entered or exited the room. There was no specific time when Ghallagar came in or out to beat answers you didn’t have out of you. And there was no use shouting. You felt doomed.

The only reprieve from the onslaught of pain was when buyers came in. When they were there, you were gagged and concealed from sight by a room divider, left to bleed and suffer in pain before more was inflicted when they were gone. Besides the pain, the only thing you knew for sure was that you didn’t have the information he wanted. You didn’t know who Daredevil was. No one did. You just worked with him on the recommendation from Captain Mahoney. That’s all. The way the masked vigilante saved you that night and held you to his chest made you feel safe, yes, but why that made Ghallagar think you knew his identity was beyond you. You wished there was some way for you to prove that you were telling the truth. Some way for him to know- 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the loud sound of gunfire in the front of the room. The enclosed space made everything louder and you squeezed your eyes closed in a feeble attempt to shut everything out. You were afraid of the ricocheting bullets making their way over here. Although, if one hit you, this could all be over… You wouldn’t have to endure anymore pain. There would be no more pain. And boy, did that sound great right now. 

The sound of fighting got closer and closer, Ghallagar’s voice barking orders before suddenly going silent along with the rest of the room. The only thing you heard was the sound of fists hitting flesh and groans of pain from the victims of whoever was dealing the blows. Already conditioned to fear the punches of your captors, you cowered inward as much as you could, a weak and unintentional whimper leaving your throat as you did. 

Within seconds of making the noise, the pounding of fists stopped and you heard a thud as a body landed on the floor, their skull hitting the pavement hard. Your heart pounded in your throat as you heard heavy footfalls approaching you and you wished the person away with all your might. Your wish didn’t come true though as the room barrier was shoved aside, causing you to tuck your head down to be as small as possible in the eyes of the unknown person in front of you. 

Your name was whispered in a gravelly voice, and you shook your head in some sort of attempt to deter the person from you. Instead of another beating that you were accustomed to though, suddenly your hands were free of their confines and you were being hauled up and into the embrace of the person now standing in front of you. You were too weak to fight, but when you felt the texture of the armor adorning the person holding you, you let out a sob and tightened your arms around the man. Around Daredevil. He came to rescue you. He saved your life again. 

“I’m here. I’m right here. You’re safe now,” he mumbled as he held you as gently as he could. With one arm still wrapped around you, you felt one pull away before he spoke again a few moments later, saying, “Tell Mahoney I found her. Collapsed subway tunnel near 45th and 9th. Ghallagar and his men are incapacitated. Get an ambulance here, now. She’s in bad shape.”

It was as if your body instantly switched out of survival mode when he ended the call. The moment you knew that an ambulance was on the way and you were safe in Daredevil’s arms, you collapsed. Every muscle fiber in your body gave out and your joints folded under all the weight and suddenly everything went black once more. 

When you began to regain consciousness, you instantly knew you were in a different environment. Rather than the sound of dripping water and gruff men speaking, there was the occasional beeping sound and soft spoken voices. You were in a somewhat comfortable bed with pillows surrounding you in an effort to soften the mattress and your hands weren’t bound behind you. There was no steady trickle of blood leaking from your body. You were in the hospital. You were safe. 

Your eyelids fluttered open when you heard movement from beside you, and you realized that one of the soft spoken voices was coming from right beside you in the form of Matt Murdock praying. Looking down, you realized that one of your hands was grasped in his as he prayed, and a deep blush creeped onto your cheeks - the moment was far more intimate than any you had shared before. “Hey,” you whispered once he said amen. 

“You’re awake. Thank God,” he said, the emotion obvious in his voice and smile. “You had me scared there for a few days.”

“A-a few days?” you asked, eyes widening. 

“Yeah. It’s been three days since they brought you in,” Matt replied, squeezing your hand gently. “Brett and Daredevil took care of Ghallagar. He and his men are going away for a long time.”

“Good,” you said, your voice breaking with emotion as you remembered what you endured at his hand. Wanting to change the subject off of the man in question, you looked at the gorgeous bouquet of flowers on your bedside table and asked, “Did you bring those flowers?” 

A bashful smile made its way onto Matt’s lips as he nodded, telling you, “I was hoping you’d wake up before they wilted. Was I right?” 

“Yeah. They’re gorgeous. Thank you, Matt,” you said, voice wobbly as you spoke. “And thank you for coming to see me. I- You didn’t have to do that.” 

“I wanted to,” Matt replied softly. 

“Oh hey! You’re awake!” came the voice of Foggy as he peeked into the room. “I hate to break up this happy little reunion, but we gotta go, buddy. Client needs us, like, yesterday.” 

“Yeah, I’ll be right there,” Matt told him. 

During the whole exchange you were left staring at yours and Matt’s intertwined hands and got to thinking. Why hadn’t you ever just made a move with him? Before, you were convinced that he was just playing along with your flirting. That he didn’t have feelings for you like you did for him and that he just didn’t want to be rude. But now, frankly, you didn’t care about your overthought reasoning. After the last week, you realized how fleeting life was and just how lucky you were that you were still alive. So, before Matt could stand up and say his goodbyes as Foggy stepped out of the room, you leaned forward and placed a kiss on his cheek. 

The gesture ignited pain in your battered body and a furious blush on your cheeks as you relaxed back into the mattress. The boyish grin that lit up Matt’s face made your heart flutter, and you swore it almost stopped when he asked, “Can I kiss you?” 

“Yes,” was your instant response in a breathy tone with a wide smile on your lips as well. 

The kiss was brief and gentle with both you and Matt unable to hold back your smiles as it happened. You felt rays of happiness flowing out of you and couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips when he pulled away mere moments later. He squeezed your hand once again as he said, “I’ve wanted to do that for a while. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize…” 

“Better late than never,” you replied, a content smile on your lips as you remembered his soft ones on yours, already craving the next. You hoped that this would be the start of something magical with Matt.

big shoutout to my beta readers in the tuna tank for helping me out with this, especially @sunflowersandsapphires for some of the dialogue pieces as well as @justvalkyrie and @thornbushrose for help with plot points and clarity!

ps: the flirty comment with the handcuffs made me giggle so much! it happened very organically too (even though i am a terrible flirt and needed to ask for help in the server for inspo) also the bit at the end with Matt holding Reader's hand and praying?? i teared up, whoops!

as usual, likes and comments are appreciated! xo, brooke <3

taglist: @reidmarieprentiss

dividers by @firefly-graphics as always!

[machveil]

hey so I eat your Konig stuff up but if you feel up to it I BEG OF YOU to do something with my sweet(insane) princess(grown man)Krueger it can be like,general partner hcs or soemthing specific idk,I am starved for Krueger content.

I just dropped what I was doing because I need you to know anon!! I need you to know I agree, I’m famished for babygirl (soldier) Krueger

General Thoughts about Sebastian Krueger

you didn’t see me accidentally post this early

so, he’s morally ambiguous in my eyes. the Corporal has canonically killed civilians and escaped custody - do we know why? no, his past Lieutenant literally befriended him to help him get to know that team because he saw “talent in a troubled mind”

given his background, it takes a while for him to open up to you - let alone even think of dating you

he’s got a unique personality, humor that ranges on the darker side. he thinks he’s very funny, and he laughs a little harder when he sees the concerned looks he gets after cracking a joke. if you’re also one to find humor in the dark he’ll take a liking to you - someone that can match his freak lol

he’s a surprisingly light eater - he prefers to eat small meals, little portions, throughout the day something about a sensitive stomach. he doesn’t snack though, he literally just eats small meals, he’ll get a bit of protein, some carbs, vitamins. no one knows why he eats like that - no one really knows why he does what he does generally

he’ll get comfortable with you eventually though, maybe sit down with him while he eats. he can enjoy a comfortable silence. he’s not a fan of small talk, why fill the silence when you have nothing to say?

if you’re dating he’s a stoic, serious body guard for you… but he’s still got a soft spot in his heart, he’ll call you meine Prinzessin/Prinz, meine Herz, little Vogel - his Princess/Prince, his heart, little bird

he’s got a possessive streak - maybe a little unhealthy. he can come off as controlling in some aspects he is, but can you blame him? you’re his to protect, his Herz - who wouldn’t protect someone they hold dear?

[itsnotbird]

Orphic ~ File 7

Selcouth (adj.) ; Unfamiliar, rare, strange, and yet marvelous

Bucky!Barnes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: tw for mentions of past trauma, Bucky being obsessive hehe

Previous part here

Masterlist pinned on my blog

Bucky stayed away.

Far away.

He hopes that it might help the fever growing inside of him, that he could sleep soundly if he forgot the way you sound while breathing. It worked in his favor, he hadn’t been needed at the compound for a week, so it was just him and his melancholy apartment.

The distance didn’t cut the thought of you out entirely.

That was the hard part.

And while he walked down the street and thought about how you were handling the colder weather coming, you were in some sort of agony.

It had the same buzz as when you were going through the horrid withdrawal, just felt a little different. You grew more comfortable in your home, you grew closer with your new family, and the days moved by without your James.

It’s the end of the week without him and you sit in the spiny chair in the meeting room with the team, listening to the new plan for the mission. You’ve slowly been understanding and remembering things, helpful things that lead to a potential deal happening in the city.

They decide who would best suit this mission, who will go undercover, who will wait in the get away van.

Your knees are curled to your chest, nails picking at the rips in your jeans and you suddenly have the urge to speak.

“I want to go.”

The room comes to a halt.

“Holy shit, she can speak.” Sam says with bewilderment.

“Of course I can speak, I just didn’t like to…I’m fine now.” You explain.

They all have a peculiar look, but they go with it.

“Blue…are you sure it’s smart for you to go?” Tony asks, mind ridden with concern.

You look over at him. “I’m in control of my power, I won’t hurt anyone.”

Steve adds in. “Are you sure you can jump into action if something happens?”

You giggle. “I was a huntress for over a decade, I think I can handle business.”

You sit straight, then continue. “Besides, I want to do more to bring this whole shindig down.”

Maybe it’s the fact they are still so stunned that you’re speaking, or something else, but they seem to comply easily.

“Alright…Blue will go with the Cap and Romanoff undercover.” Tony declares. “We need to get you in the training room…just to make sure you know what you’re doing.”

You gave him a look, knowing well that he just wanted to throw things and watch you deflect them.

And it seems that was the case for the rest of the Avengers.

“Anyone else scared?” Sam asks, standing behind the protective glass with the rest as you pull your hair up and shrug your ugly sweater off.

“Five bucks says Cap throws in the towel.” Nat bets with Clint.

“Oh you are so on.” He whispers back. “Let’s hope she doesn’t get too hurt.”

Wide eyed, they watch you hold your own in hand to hand combat with Steve, but one leg sweep and your one the ground.

The team cringes.

Then mutter to each other as you jump right back up and get a serious look in your eye.

“She’s pissed now.” Sam laughs, cheering you on.

Steve may be an advanced fighter, he’s twice your size, but he gets tossed like a rag doll with the move of your hand. A line of glowing blue strikes him, he falls backwards.

“Very impressive.” Wanda compliments.

Steve continues to come at you, and Tony laughs hysterically as he gets bashed around.

“Beautiful!” Tony claps, making you proudly smile at the praise. “What else can you do?”

“Uh…I don’t want to hurt him…” You say, unsure.

“What? He’s fine. You’re fine, right?” He turns to Steve.

Steve rolls his aching shoulder, panting slightly as he nods. “I can do this all day, hit me.”

You look at him, making sure he’s okay before you twitch your fingers, sending a bolt of electricity straight to him.

“Oh shit!” Sam exclaims, laughing in amusement as Steve stands there, twitching with bared teeth. “I know that doesn’t feel good.”

Steve falls to his knees, you immediately stop and come before him. Hand on his cheek, you ease the pain you just caused him. He breathes with relief.

“How do you do that?” He asks, getting the strength to stand.

“I can make you do anything I want you to.” You confess.

“Make him do something!” Tony urges, way too excited about this.

“Take mercy on me.” Steve whispers, a half goofy smile.

You rub his cheek, returning the smile. Looking him in the eye, your eyes glow an entrancing blue. Immediately, Steve stops any movement, completely still as you whisper to him.

“Steve…are you listening?” You ask softly.

He nods mechanically.

“Go hug Tony.” You instruct.

Like an obedient soldier, he turns and marches straight for Tony.

“No, stay the hell away from me.” Tony steps away.

Steve just follows, causing the man to panic. The team watching laughs as Tony shouts for you to reel him back in.

“Steve. Stop.” You call.

His feet halt.

“Okay…that’s scary.” Banner agrees, watching as you brake the trance.

Steve shakes his head, almost like he’s clearing the brain fog. Then, he looks to Tony. “Yeah, she’s all yours, I give up.”

“Ha!” Nat laughs in Clints face, holding her palm out for the cash.

Clint pouts as he gives her the money.

You’re shooting at the practice targets as Steve joins the rest of them. They look to him in anticipation for his words.

“Yeah.” Steve nods. “She’ll do just fine.”

Then he nurses his hurt ribs.

- - - -

A deep breath in, he steps through the first doors of the living quarters.

It was after dinner, maybe you were already asleep?

That’s a wishful thought that he doesn’t fully like.

If you were asleep, he couldn’t watch you from a distance, he couldn’t get that faint scent of vanilla and cherry that followed you.

But if you were locked in your room, he could keep his dignity.

But he’s never been a lucky man, that’s why when he makes it to the common space, he sees you very much so awake, sitting in front of the tv, watching what looked like The Breakfast Club.

Now if it were just you, he’d linger for a second, watch you, maybe sit beside you. But it’s much worse, you’re leaned into Steve with his arm around your shoulders, and Wanda is on your other side, head leaned onto Vision’s shoulder.

Bucky’s jaw sets, he glares at the scene that looks too much like a double date.

Nat comes in with a bowl of popcorn, settles on the carpet right under you. And Bruce comes to swap a few jokes with her, then joins her.

And Tony of all people, is sat in the sectional, actually enjoying the movie. Pepper, who the team hardly sees because she’s super woman and runs a business while mothering a daughter she just put to bed, comes in and the team rejoices, all smiles as she sits with her husband.

What the hell was this? A love affair?

Sam approaches behind the soldier who is glaring daggers.

“Aw, a little love fest, how cute.” He snickers, trying to rile Bucky up. “Even Clint went home to his wife, everyone has someone, huh? Oh, except you.”

“You’re one to talk.” Bucky argues.

“Well I’m a little less pathetic about it.”

He turns to look at the grinning man. “Trust me, you’re plenty pathetic.”

Then he turns back to you, how you laugh at a scene and lay more comfortably on Steve.

Like a devil on his shoulder, Sam is there, whispering.

“Aren’t they just cozy? You think Steve’s gonna make a move?”

Bucky’s metal fist clenches.

“I bet you, the next time he laughs, he’s gonna pull her a little closer…surprised she isn’t nuzzling into his neck now.”

“Sam.” Bucky warns. “If you don’t shut your mouth, I’m going to dismember your limbs.”

“Nah uh, you’re not supposed to hurt people, Doctor’s orders.” Sam states, laughing for a moment before he gets serious.

“If you want to be in Steve’s spot, then you need to man up and make a move.” He says.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Bucky shakes his head.

“Oh really? So it’s not killing you that she’s close with him? You don’t want to rip your best friend off the couch right now?”

He hates that Sam’s right.

Bucky sighs, then relaxes his body. “Wouldn’t make a difference if I make a move, she doesn’t need me, she’s got enough problems to deal with. I got enough problems to deal with. Besides, she has Steve.”

Sam chuckles again. “Very poetic, man, but that was a dumb reason. And have you read her file? The girl has attachment issues, she’s close with everyone she feels safe with, doesn’t mean she has a thing for them.”

“No.” Bucky corrects. “I haven’t read her file, but apparently everyone else has.”

You lean down to ask Nat a question about the movie, and your hand rests on Steve’s knee as you do so.

Bucky’s had enough.

He leaves, walks off in the direction of his room quickly, making him a shadow.

But you feel his energy move past and you turn your head quickly, trying to find him. You only see his retreating form.

Your mood immediately deflates.

Wanda looks over at you as you slump back into the couch, questioning you silently. You just put on a smile and nod, showing her you were fine.

You weren’t fine, you had an ache that festered and festered inside of you.

Bucky wasn’t much better, sitting alone in his room for hours while he listened to the movie end and everyone settle in, going off to bed.

What catches his attention is the folder that slides under his door, a note from Sam on it that reads ‘Try to understand her the way we do’.

He crumbles it up and tosses it.

Sitting at his desk, Bucky holds the file in his hand and it’s heavy, weighted.

Slowly, he opens it.

And the air gets kicked from his lungs.

Evidence photos, countless marks and bruises, scars. There’s countless pages from your therapist, write ups from agents who you spoke with, words from Nick Fury himself who is fond of you.

Attachment issues, abandonment issues

…self destructive tendencies…

…unstable signs… night terrors…relapse of memory

Follows orders well…very intelligent…

Can be triggered by mentions of her past traumas.

Subject to panic attacks.

He feels sick, reading all of it.

And much like your actions to his file, he rereads yours multiple times until he doesn’t feel like he’s going to pass out.

It keeps him up, he lays on the floor next to his bed and thinks over everything.

When he thinks he’s exhausted enough, he shuts his eyes, only for a migraine to hit.

Yet another lasting effect from his past.

He lays there miserable for a moment too long before pulling sweatpants on and going to the kitchen, searching for something simple as Ibuprofen…that he’ll take five of them just so it will make a dent in his system.

He chugs a glass of water, then goes to sit on the couch in front of the large window in the common room. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he almost doesn’t notice the figure going into the kitchen.

Your steps are extremely light, but a blue orb follows you, illuminating your path, so he knows it’s you.

In the darkness, he sits completely still. The cloud cover moves away and the moonlight seeps in to paint him a shade of light blue.

You startle as you see him, water sloshing in your glass.

He doesn’t say a word, just watches you pause and read him.

A shirt swallows your frame, he can barely see the plaid boxers you wear.

“Hello, James.” You greet.

“It’s really ominous when you say that.” He states back, rubbing his temple now.

“Are you sick?” You ask, fiddling with the orb above you, letting it fade out.

“Just a migraine, I’ll live.” He says in a tone that gives way to his discomfort.

You come forward, setting your glass on the coffee table and stand before him.

He looks up in question. “Not any less ominous, doll.” He sighs, looking away and missing the way his nickname affects you.

“I can help.” You say. “…Won’t you let me?”

His head pounds further at the deja vu, because even though you’ve never asked him that, he’s heard those words before in his dreams.

His lips part, but no words come out.

Cautiously, you sit beside him, your touch gentle as you turn his face to you.

He watches you with those round blue eyes, feeling his heart beat wonky.

You hold your fingers an inch from the center of his forehead, and he’s further illuminated by the glow of blue. You hum, feeling the pain he feels.

“What…what are you doing?” He asks in a tone that comes out softer than intended.

“I’m just…feeling you, and trying to make it better.”

“You aren’t permanently damaged, you have feelings, James.” Dr Raynor had told him. “It’s a possibility that you are enamored by this woman.”

He isn’t sure if that’s the word. But he feels something rising in him, it’s heavy on his lungs, it makes him feel warm. Perhaps because no one has done a caring act for him in a long time, or maybe it’s because he can feel his soul reaching out and tangling itself in yours. It’s obsessive and caring and entirely strange, but it’s not wrong.

“And what do you feel?” He asks, his throat bobbing.

Your eyebrows drawn, you look into his eyes. “Just you.”

“Is it terrible?” He asks, not any hint of sarcasm.

You shake your head, pulling the pain from him, soothing his head. “You could never be terrible, I don’t think.”

Fuck. You are entirely strange and rare and marvelous.

He breathes clearer as the pain is gone. He reaches out, softly grasping your wrist and it earns a small gasp from you.

Then his palm is meeting yours like he needs to see if you’re one in the same. His touch is warm, you watch the way his hand is considerably more larger than yours.

You slow his heart out of fear that it might burst.

“Tell me why you’re always in my head.” He asks in a husky and breathless tone.

“You first.” You whisper.

He takes your hand, pressing his lips to your palm and you stop breathing entirely.

The feeling in you is new, one you’ve never felt. But he’s sitting too close, looking too good, being so gentle, you have an urge to…cry?

You watch him carefully, dissecting every move.

In truth, Bucky isn’t sure what he’s doing but he knows he wants to. He pressed the tips of your fingers to his lips, trying to understand what’s happening behind your eyes. As he pulls your hand away, it’s like your body moves on its own. You lean forward, rushing your lips to his before you can process what’s happening. You’ve kissed men in your career, all out of business, never for pleasure. This is different, this is an invisible force that wants you to latch onto him and not let go.

Bucky’s eyes widen as you kiss him almost harshly, it short circuits his brain. He can’t even process what to do before you’re ripping yourself away, completely spooked.

Not knowing exactly what to say, you just mutter an apology and rush away, back to your room.

Bucky’s left in the darkness, skin tingling.

Next part

[iamgonnagetyouback]

𝟷𝚔 || 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐕𝐄

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Jess was not what everyone made him out to be, and you were not too naïve to believe that...right?

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: Jess Mariano x Reader

Stars Hollow has always had a way of wrapping itself around you. Every corner of the quirky little town, every face that smiled back at yours, it felt like safety. You’d grown up here, where everyone knew your name and the soft way you saw the world. It wasn’t naivety, at least that’s not how you saw it. You just always chose to believe the best in people, even when the town buzzed around you, warning you to be careful, to protect yourself.

But it was always protective of you. The town. They treated you like something fragile, like a porcelain doll that might shatter if handled too roughly. You never saw it that way. You were just… you. Seeing the good in people wasn’t a weakness; it was just how you were wired. But that didn’t stop everyone from fretting.

When Jess Mariano moved to town, all those concerned whispers turned into full-on conversations. “Be careful,” they’d say, watching you like you were made of glass. “He’s trouble.” And sure, you’d seen his rough edges—the sarcastic comments, the lingering smirk, the way he pushed everyone away before they had the chance to get close. But somehow, with you, he wasn’t any of that.

You’d catch him slipping books into your bag when you weren’t looking, ones he knew you’d love. He’d hold the diner door open for you without even thinking, and sometimes, in those quiet moments when you’d both sit by the bridge reading, his arm would brush yours, and instead of pulling away, he’d linger just a little longer.

But Rory didn’t see that. Rory, your best friend, and when you told her—voice soft, words barely above a whisper—that you thought you might like Jess, it felt like the ground beneath you shifted.

"Jess?" Rory’s tone was sharp, her brow furrowed in disbelief. "You can't be serious. He’s just playing with you, you know that, right?"

You blinked, taken aback by the sudden coldness in her voice. “What do you mean?”

Rory sighed, crossing her arms. “Look, you’re… you’re sweet, okay? Too sweet. You always see the good in people, and Jess—he’s just… Jess. He doesn’t care about anyone, especially not you.”

Your heart sank, her words landing like stones. "How can you say that? You don’t see the way he is when it's just us."

Rory laughed, but there was no humor in it. "He's not different with you. You're just… you're the easiest person to fool in this town. Everyone knows that. You’re the nice one. The innocent one. He’s just going to break your heart."

The sting of her words was sharp, like a slap you hadn’t seen coming. "You don’t get to decide that," you murmured, feeling the familiar burn of tears behind your eyes. "You don’t know him like I do."

But Rory was relentless. "There’s no way Jess actually likes you. He’s just bored. He knows he can mess with you because you’ll let him." Her voice was firm, unyielding, and it left no room for argument.

You didn’t say anything. Couldn’t. Not when the hurt clawed its way up your throat, silencing you. Without another word, you turned and left, the tears finally spilling over as you opened the door to leave.

You made it to the porch, when you saw Lorelai already sitting there, a mug in her hand. Her eyes softened when she saw you, the slight quirk of her lips not quite enough to hide the concern etched in her face.

“So,” she said, trying for a lightness that didn’t quite land. “Guessing you had a little chat with Rory, huh?”

You stood there, heart aching, lip trembling, before finally breaking. “I guess you heard.” Your voice was barely a whisper, and it broke halfway through.

Lorelai’s smile faltered, her eyes filling with that knowing kind of sadness she always got when she wanted to fix something but couldn’t. “Well… she’s not exactly quiet. Or subtle. But hey, that’s our Rory.” She tried to laugh, but it only made your chest ache more.

You sat down beside her, your shoulders slumping as the weight of everything pressed down on you. “What if she’s right?” you whispered, staring down at your hands as they twisted together in your lap. “What if… he doesn’t really like me? What if I’m just… the easy one?”

Lorelai sighed, long and deep, before wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “Kid, you’ve always seen the good in people. Sometimes more than they deserve. But that’s part of what makes you… you.” Her voice was softer now, less playful, and it only made the tears come faster.

You wiped at your face, sniffling. “He’s not like that with me, Lore. I know he’s not.”

She stayed quiet for a moment, her thumb tracing gentle circles on your arm. “Tell me what he’s done. What’s he done that makes you think he cares?”

You swallowed hard, trying to hold it together. “He… he gives me books. Ones he knows I’d like. And he… he waits for me after school sometimes. Even when I didn’t ask him to. And when I’m upset, he just… listens. He’s not the guy everyone says he is.”

Lorelai pursed her lips, thinking. “Sounds like he’s a little softer than the town likes to think, huh?”

You nodded, your voice barely a whisper now. “I think he cares about me.”

She sighed again, this time a little less heavily, and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Maybe he does,” she said quietly, reluctantly, like she didn’t want to admit it, but couldn’t deny the possibility. “Maybe he does, kid.”

You sniffled again, leaning into her, the warmth of her arms the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely. “I just… I just want to believe in him.”

Lorelai pulled you closer, her arms wrapping tighter around you. “I know you do. And maybe you’re right. Maybe Jess Mariano does like you. And if he doesn’t… well, Luke and I will take care of that. But you… you're not the naive one for believing in him.”

Your lip trembled again, the weight of everything finally catching up to you. “I just don’t want to be wrong about him.”

Lorelai’s voice was soft, soothing as she rocked you gently. “Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out. I promise.”

And you stayed there, curled up against her, wondering if maybe, just maybe, Jess Mariano wasn’t the villain everyone said he was. Maybe he was just waiting for someone to believe in him the way you did.

[bubblegumgothglados]

This is my RACK focused judgment free primer for heavy impact play. It covers every part of the body from head to toe and at no point does it say you can’t do something just the risks of doing so. I don't normally put warnings on my posts but most of my writing is fantasy, this isn't. I'm going to talk about any number of painful deaths and heaps more ways of becoming disabled.

In this primer "you" means the one doing the hitting, "victim" is the one being hit, and "tool" is the thing you're hitting with which could be a fist, foot, hammer, bat, anything. I'm writing it this way because its fun for me.

This primer also assumes you know the different types of impacts and how they affect the body, if you don't go look at my other writings.

Finally i take no responsibility for anything you do. All this information is what i could put together from medical journals and car crash reports if I've got anything wrong (and you can prove it) please let me know.

Enjoy

Head. With hits to the head, the two major concerns are concussions and neck injuries. A concussion occurs when a person’s brain impacts with the inside of their skull, this happens because the brain is suspended in fluid so if the skull stops or starts moving suddenly the brain will move out of sync with the skull. Symptoms of concussions can include headaches, confusion, lack of coordination, memory loss, nausea, vomiting, dizziness, ringing in the ears, sleepiness, and excessive fatigue. If your victim lost consciousness for any length of time and is having trouble speaking or understanding your words, you need to get them to the ER. There is no cure for a concussion but the best treatment is pain medication and activities that won’t tax the brain to give it time to recover. There are any number of ways to damage a neck, but generally it happens when a person’s neck is moved suddenly and violently or pushed past its limit. Minor injuries should heal by themselves within a few weeks but if unlucky pain and stiffness can last months or even years. For more major injuries, physical therapy or a neck brace might be necessary but only if the pain lasts longer than a few weeks. It’s also possible to hit someone hard enough to break their neck or fracture their skull but that takes a lot of force. All of these injuries can be avoided by supporting your victim’s head and neck by bracing their head against a surface or holding their head with your hand.

Jaw. It takes surprisingly little force to dislocate a jaw, you can do so with a good slap Dislocations are talked about in Note 3 at the bottom of this primer. Heavy bleeding from gums or a tooth that feels loose could indicate a fractured root. This is a fairly minor issue and if you see a dentist quickly they should be able to fix it back in place with no lasting damage. A tooth that has been knocked out completely should survive; get your victim to rinse their mouth out and rinse the tooth off and shove it back into the gap, and then have them see a dentist to make sure it’s properly seated and avoid chewing with it for a while.

Eyes. A fun combination of fragile and complicated. There's no first aid tips I can give you and it'll be real obvious if something is wrong. I will say you don't have to hit someones eye to give them a black eye, it’s bruising around the eye socket that matters. Also check Note 1 about the use of ice when treating injuries.

Nose. It’s more difficult than you think to break a nose. You definitely can with a good punch but you'll have to really commit. A broken nose isn't that serious (I've broken mine twice now) and isn't even ER worthy. If your victim is leaning backwards after breaking their nose the blood will run down the back of their throat potentially making them vomit or very sick. There is a chance a broken nose will heal in a way that restricts breathing in which case your victim may need surgery.

Cheek bone. Below the temple but above the gum line, running from just bellow their ear to their nose. Special mention to this spot because it’s the best place to hit your victim in the head (in my opinion). This piece of bone is very sturdy and not that risky to fracture. Plus, when you hit them here they have to watch it coming.

Neck. The windpipe, jugular, cranial nerves, vagus nerve, carotid arteries, and spine all live here and damage to any of these can cause permanent disability or death. Seek medical attention if your victim has trouble breathing or swallowing, or a lot of pain or swelling. Stingy tools are far less risky here than thuddy tools.

Shoulders. Note 2 on joints. The shoulder blades can either be an ideal impact location or one of the most risky depending on how it’s sitting. If the shoulder blade is jutting out away from the rest of the back, it’s very easy to damage If it’s laying flat against the back, it’s protected by a thick layer of fat and muscle.

Biceps. Top 4 impact location. The main concern is damaging the elbow and shoulder joints, if hitting in a way that will pull on those joints. Much like with the head, bracing the impact area against a surface will minimize the risk. Repeated hits to this area can temporarily disable the arm, which is fun.

Forearm. As above, the main risk is damaging the adjoining joints. There are also several important blood vessels and nerves running through this area and not a lot of fat an muscle to protect them.

Hands. Very little fat or muscle, mostly tendons, nerves, and cartilage. See Note 2 on joints. Special note to the palm, which hurts like hell but is relatively safe because of the extra muscle and fat in that area, great for punishment. Once again, stingy tools are much less risky than thuddy tools.

Breasts/ biceps. Top 4 impact locations. Thick layers of fat, muscle, and bone protect anything vital.

Sternum. That is the bone running down the center of a person’s chest that connects to their ribs. Not in itself very fragile but the cartilage that connects it to the ribs is easily damaged and will take a long time to heal. A fractured sternum will likely cause shortness of breath and pain when taking deep breaths. There's not much to be done about these injuries just rest and avoiding strenuous activity.

Spine. The single most risky impact location. Any damage to the spine risks permanent paralysis of everything below that point. As ever, stingy tools present less risk than thuddy tools.

Rib cage. Designed to protect a person’s most vital organs, the rib cage is very strong. Fractured ribs will cause pain breathing but aren't particularly serious. Snapped ribs can pierce organs If this happens, it'll be immediately obvious and medical intervention is required to prevent painful death. Special note to the 'floating' ribs at the bottom of a persons rib cage which don't connect to the sternum and are therefore much less resilient. Second special note to the spot right above a persons heart. A significantly hard impact at exactly the wrong moment in their cardiac cycle can stop their heart. They will loose consciousness and you will need to give them CPR until they can be defibrillated. This is ridiculously unlikely but better to mention just in case.

Abdomen. If you feel around your victim’s belly, you can figure out the line where their abdominal muscles sit. If you have them tense these muscles, you can hit them fairly hard with relatively little risk because the muscles plus the fat in that area create a thick layer of protection. (Pro tip: "Stay tense or this will might kill you" is not only true but hot and terrifying). Outside of that area or if they don't tense, there's real risk of bruising or even rupturing their intestines, which carries a 50-70% survival rate depending on how quickly you can get them to the ER. Symptoms to look out for are bloating, diarrhea, loss of appetite, and fatigue. Special note to the kidneys, which sit next to the backbone just below the rib cage and are very easily bruised. The primary symptom to look for is blood when peeing. As always, stingy tools carry less risk than thuddy tools.

Gluteus maximus. That's their butt. Hit it as hard as your victim will let you. Enough has been said about this region; I don't feel the need to recover that ground. Note 4 on bruises.

Genitals. I'm not going to get into CBT, that's a separate kink. But the vagina is very durable as it’s pretty much just flesh and fat on the outside Minimal risk, go to town.

Thigh. Top 4 impact location. Outer thigh will hurt more and bruise more. As with the head and arms, the primary risk is damaging the adjoining joints. Note 4 on bruises because this is the primary place for DVT.

Calf. As above. Shins are also a great location for punishment because they hurt like hell.

Feet. Very similar to hands. The soles of a person’s foot are intended to impact with the ground frequently and with some force, so they can take a fair bit of punishment.

Note 1. Ice. It is no longer suggested injury procedure to use ice to reduce swelling. Yes, it is effective at reducing swelling but we now understand swelling is an important part of the healing process and although ice might make it feel and look better in the short term, it actually increases the amount of time the injury will take to heal. You want the blood to be able to flow to the injury to take away dead cells and bring nutrients and energy.

Note 2. Joints. Neck, spine, shoulders, elbows, wrists, fingers, hips, knees, ankles, and toes. The reason these are almost always labeled "red" or "no go" on impact play body maps is because these are choke points for blood vessels and nerves; they are made of fragile tendons and cartilage, and they have very little padding for protection. They're also important for movement day to day and very difficult to heal properly. If a joint is damaged, you can buy braces for every joint from most pharmacies.

Note 3. Dislocations. If you're lucky, a partial dislocation will relocate by itself if you move the joint around as you normally would, not forcing it or trying to manipulate it with your hand, just moving it with its own muscles. If it does naturally relocate but you still have pain a few weeks later seek a medical professional. If you're unlucky or if it’s a total dislocation, you will have to see a medical professional. DO NOT TRY TO FORCE IT BACK INTO PLACE!

Note 4. Bruises. Normally, bruises are nothing to worry about but there are situations where a deep bruise can be a health concern. If the bruise continues to get worse after a week, there could be a hematoma under the skin, which is like a blood clot, and might need to be removed. The other possible complication is Deep Vein Thrombosis, which is a blood clot and can be lethal, if not treated quickly. With DVT, the symptoms are tenderness, warmth, and a "pulling sensation" which are pretty normal impact play symptoms. But if you're doing impact play at the level that could cause DVT, then you and your victim should know their healing process intimately, so if something feels off or isn't healing right, get them to a medical professional; better safe than dead.

[velveteenprayers]

IN THE DAYTIME, I'M PERCY JACKSON…

pairing: percy jackson x gn!reader

summary: miraculous au

word count: 1k+

a/n: none! pls enjoy

Percy stood on the edge of the building, admiring the city skyline, crisp wind biting at his cheeks. When the dark floating creature -Plagg, he soon found out - told him he'd be able to reach wherever he pleases, he didn't believe him. Not like he does now, ecstasy bubbling in his chest at the sight of afternoon traffic. He could go anywhere he wanted. No longer contained by degenerates in the hallway or the bum of a man back home. He was free.

He was now tapping his staff (because he had one now) in deep contemplation about where he should go next. Jumping onto his apartment building's roof was easy enough, but now he needed to do a serious stunt. Or maybe he should just go to the ice-cream stall a few blocks down. The owner was usually in full operation this time, considering it was Friday and all-

Just then his train of thoughts were interrupted by a loud crash behind him. Heightened senses now alerted, he turned around,  prepared to attack and scanned the perimeter. Just when he thought he was finally going crazy, a wreck of a person emerged from the now damaged roof exhaust, arms failing as you looked like you were about to topple over the edge. Yikes, he thought, approaching you to assist, his concern outweighing any alarm.  

But as he was, you suddenly seemed to gain composure, taking in deep breaths, a clear look of panic in your eyes. For the first time he saw the black string tied around the roof exhaust, his eyes following it until they landed on a red and black polka dotted yo-yo. Your suit, which he had also just noticed, was similarly fashioned. 

His day becoming impossible more exciting, a smile overtook his face. Were you also like him? Just then, your eyes met, and you swiftly looked away, face scrunched in embarrassment as

you pretended to admire some nonexistent thing in the horizon. He almost started laughing, but didn't for your sake.

"Are you okay up there?" He yelled out, and you pretended to see him for the first time.

"What?"

"I asked if you're okay up there, you seem a little...tied up."

"Are you making fun of me, cat boy?"

…

Cat boy?

"Look, I know this is a bit..." He struggled to find the right word.

"Weird? Strange? Scary? Disorientating?"

Percy nodded his head.

"All of the above. But I think it means something. Did you also talk to one of those, um, floaty magical thingies?

"You mean the kwamis." You deadpanned.

"Hm ?"

"They're called kwamis," you repeated, stepping closer towards him, having untangled your yo-yo, "not floaty magical thingies."

"Wow, you actually listened to that spiel?"

You raised an eyebrow in a faux unimpressed manner, though your face betrayed you,  showing amusement.

"You didn't? Well I don't know how I feel working with a person who barely knows the basics."

"The basics?"

"Why, the basics of being a Miraculous holder, of course." You flicked at his chest playfully, showing him a close-eyed smile, as though you were letting him in on a secret. And weren't you?

Just then, your earring beeped loudly, your hand lurching towards it, a look of horror overtaking your face.

"Gotta go!" You announced abruptly, throwing your yo-yo to the nearest building. It failed at latching onto anything, and Percy had to watch as you awkwardly tried to connect it a few more times. Once you did, you left him with a warm smile and a "Bye! See you next time cat boy!" before unceremoniously crashing into the next building, getting up, and running into the distance.

What a weirdo, Percy thought to himself as he detransformed, entering his building, thoughts consumed solely by you. And if he was going to do this Miraculous thing gig full time, he needed a better name than Cat Boy, seriously. And possibly a better partner.

Gods, Percy hated starting new schools. The fact that it was the middle of the school year didn't help. He stood in the doorway, trying to find a seat in the overpopulated classroom. Everyone seemed to know everyone, and that did little to ease his nerves. He timidly chose a desk in the front row, which would probably do very little for his popularity, but what other option did he have? As he was sitting, anxiously waiting for the lesson to begin so he could go home sooner, he failed to notice the looming shadow over him. 

"I sit here."

"Huh?!" He quickly became aware of the towering, monsterish boy. What in the world were they feeding this kid at home? 

"I said that I'm sitting here."

"Oh." Percy had begun to realise how deadly quiet the class had become, everyone watching in either fear or interest, or a combination of both. His blood was rushing to his ears, and he felt a pit of nausea growing in his stomach. He might die from pure embarrassment before this kid would lay a hand on him at all. Until he heard a yell of "Lay off him, Reno." and caught sight of  a lethal glare, and the aforementioned boy was gone.

With your sudden appearance, the class  seemed to collectively let out an exhale, all of them returning to their previous conversations as though nothing had happened. Percy, however, was fully ensnared by you.

"Hey, um," he cleared his throat to get your attention, your intimidating glare lessening as you glanced at him. Gods, where you pretty, "thanks, for your, um, help back there." 

Why was he stuttering so much?

You observed him coolly.

"No problem. You're new, right?" 

It was not as much a question as it was a statement.

"Yeah." You nodded your head astutely, holding out your hand. His ring clad one met yours in a brief moment of eye contact. You had starry eyes. Like the ones in books.

"Percy."

"Name."

 At the sound of the bell, you walked towards  a seat next to a red haired girl, black earring catching the sunlight.

[darkstarofchaos]

Spoilers for TF One.

Considering I've seen all of one person voice dislike for the movie, this might be a rhetorical question, but does anyone else find it kinda disturbing that they had Starscream goading Megatron to hit him? Or, to put it another way, that they had arguably the most abused character in the franchise goading his most frequent abuser to hit him? Specifically while he was being choked to the point of permanent damage?

I will readily admit that I'm predisposed to think the worst of canon when it comes to Starscream (and after EarthSpark, all my trust issues have been exacerbated). I also really do not like headcanons where Starscream provokes Megatron because he likes being hit, or where he sounds like he does because Megatron damaged him. So maybe I'm just reading too much into this, and reacting negatively because now I'm going to see two of my least favorite Starscream headcanons everywhere (and now that one of them is canon, some people are going to act like it's canon in other continuities, which is. Great).

Anyway. It feels like the writers didn't want to deal with Starscream and Megatron having an abusive dynamic. So instead of just, y'know. Not writing one. They decided to have Starscream "ask for it" instead. I mean, they apparently name-dropped Skyfire, you can't tell me no one on the team knew people would treat it as masochism (instead of the machismo it was probably meant to be). It's Starscream, there is no context in which he could provoke an opponent like that and not have people see masochism. But the fact that he specifically goaded Megatron - again, while receiving permanent damage - is just. Really uncomfortable to me. Especially since Starscream is apparently just fine afterward.

Cybertronians are not easy to damage permanently. Normally I refrain from extrapolating things that were true in one continuity onto others, but they're robots. Logic dictates they can repair a far wider range of injuries far more easily than humans can, even if there are still limits to what can be fixed. And voice boxes are one of those things that have been repeatedly shown being difficult to repair. I could accept Starscream being used to battle damage and shrugging it off if it was repairable, but it isn't. Why is he fine afterwards when irreparable damage is so out of the ordinary for Cybertronians? Even if he assumed it was reparable, voice boxes are a known permanent damage risk, so why isn't he at least a little concerned about that?

The whole thing just feels poorly thought out. Even if they weren't trying to handwave any future violence between Starscream and Megatron, they clearly weren't interested in how Starscream would realistically respond to the situation. And yes, people handle serious injuries differently, but considering who we're talking about, I can't see it as an innocent "this version of the character isn't that bothered by injury". It feels too much like they needed to get Megatron in position to lead the Decepticons and also wanted Starscream to sound like he does because of damage, and they just didn't think beyond what they needed for Megatron's arc. And yes, Megatron is a main character and Starscream isn't, so it makes sense to focus on what his arc needs. Megatron has also been repeatedly treated as a better person than the mech he abuses, so "he's more important than Starscream" only makes it worse, actually.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Falling Into Place

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10

Word count: 816

Pairning: Aaron Hotchner x Agent!reader

Summary: Y/n navigates her new role at the BAU while witnessing a softer side of her boss

______________________________________________________________

The day carried on with a surprising quietness. You found yourself glancing toward Hotch’s office more than once, a little nervous about how Ava was holding up. But every time you checked, she was lying peacefully on the couch, occasionally curling up with the small blanket you had brought from home. A small part of you couldn't help but feel touched by Hotch's gesture—letting your daughter rest in his space.

As you sat back at your desk, trying to focus on the case in front of you, Spencer Reid sidled up to you, a soft smile on his face. "So, you have a daughter?" His tone was friendly but curious.

You nodded, smiling back. "I do. Ava. She’s four, but you wouldn’t know it from how mature she can be." There was pride in your voice, despite the lingering exhaustion that came from single motherhood. "She’s smart, just like her uncle Spencer," you added, teasing him lightly.

Reid blushed, ducking his head. “I’m sure she is.”

"She's lucky to have you as a mom," JJ chimed in, leaning on the edge of her desk. "And don’t worry about her being here. We’ve all had to bring our kids in at some point."

A weight lifted slightly from your shoulders at JJ’s reassurance. The team didn’t seem to mind, and that was a relief. But you couldn’t stop wondering what Hotch really thought. Despite his unexpectedly kind gesture, his earlier coldness still hung in the back of your mind.

Later, as the afternoon wore on, you noticed Hotch making his way toward his office. You braced yourself, expecting him to maybe check on Ava and then return to his usual aloof self. Instead, he paused outside the door, glancing at you briefly.

"I was just going to check on your daughter," he said, as though reading your thoughts. His voice was neutral, but something about the way he said it felt… warmer. It was subtle, but you could hear it.

"Thank you," you replied softly, watching as he disappeared into the office.

A few minutes passed, and then you saw Hotch stepping back into the bullpen, holding Ava in his arms. Your heart skipped a beat—seeing the stern, serious Aaron Hotchner cradling your little girl was enough to send your mind spinning. Ava’s large brown eyes were half-open, her cheek pressed against his shoulder, and Hotch’s expression had softened considerably.

“She woke up,” Hotch said quietly as he approached your desk. “She’s still not feeling great, but I think she just wanted to see you.”

You quickly stood, gently taking Ava from him. She clung to you, her little arms wrapping around your neck.

"Thanks," you murmured, meeting his gaze.

Hotch nodded, his eyes lingering on you and Ava for a moment longer. “If you need to leave early, go ahead. We’ll manage.”

You were caught off guard. The gruff, seemingly unfeeling Hotchner was showing understanding, maybe even concern. It made you see him in a new light—one that you hadn't expected.

"I’ll be fine," you replied, bouncing Ava gently as she rested her head against your shoulder. "But... thank you."

Before Hotch could respond, Rossi strolled by, a knowing smirk on his face. “I see we have a future profiler in training here,” he teased, glancing at Ava.

Hotch’s lips twitched, and you swore you saw the faintest trace of a smile.

“She certainly has the eyes for it,” Hotch added, surprising you further. His words were gentle, almost affectionate, as he looked at your daughter.

Later, as the day came to a close, and the team began packing up, you were still struck by how different Hotch had been with Ava. He wasn’t the cold, distant boss you had initially pegged him for. And though he still carried that air of authority, there was something underneath—a warmth you hadn’t expected.

As you prepared to leave, Ava clinging to your side, Hotch approached you one last time.

"If you ever need help with her, don’t hesitate to ask," he said, his voice lower than usual. There was something about the way he looked at you—a subtle shift in the way he saw you now, perhaps not just as an agent, but as a mother.

For the first time since joining the BAU, you felt a connection with him. Maybe he wasn’t just the rigid boss who didn’t like you. Maybe there was more to him than the stoic exterior. And maybe, just maybe, you could trust him with more than just your work.

"Thank you, Aaron," you replied softly, using his first name for the first time.

He nodded, his eyes flicking down to Ava once more before turning away. You watched him go, feeling a strange mix of emotions bubbling inside you. Maybe this transfer wasn’t just about a change of scenery. Maybe it was the beginning of something more—for both you and your daughter.

[frogsinflannel]

w.i.p. snippet that at this point I’m not sure is getting finished ??? 911 - Eddie POV on bucktommy

“I guess, uh. Guess we better go then.” Buck looks unsure, even as he says it, glancing between Eddie and Tommy as they all stand around Eddie’s kitchen.

“Sure,” Tommy says. “I’m ready to go if you are.” He leans back against the sink and takes a quick drink of his water. “We can go ahead and get out of your hair if that’s what you want, Eddie.”

“N-not that we’re trying to ditch you,” Buck says, too quick. “We don’t have to leave if—”

“What? You two gonna hang around here and I have to deal with whatever hormones all that whipped up?” Eddie gives him a flat look and Buck grins, ducks his head and looks half-sheepish and half-pleased.

“Yeah, okay,” Buck says. He readjusts the strap of his bag over his shoulder. “I guess we do have… plans.”

Tommy makes a noise, his face twitching, but when Eddie looks over it’s schooled back to indifference. His eyes are bright, though, and it’s not hard to figure out what Buck means by plans.

It must show on his face, because as soon as Eddie’s had the thought Tommy’s expression has gone scrunchy and smirky and then he winks. Eddie flushes before he can help it–which serves him right, he thinks, because that’s not something he should be thinking about his friends, right? Not what they’re about to leave his house to do to each other.

“Hey,” Tommy says, stepping over to Buck. “You can’t blame me, right Diaz?” His voice is warm and fond, a little teasing. “I mean, this guy?” He puts one big arm around Buck’s waist and tugs him, playful and close, until their bodies are pressed together. “Adorable.”

He’s talking to Eddie but it’s not for Eddie. It’s all for Buck.

And Buck knows it. Is delighted by it, if the expression on his face is telling. His eyes are fixed on Tommy and he’s grinning, tongue between his teeth so it sticks out of the corner of his mouth. “Did you hear that, Eddie?” he asks. He leans in closer to Eddie, raising a hand to cup the back of Tommy’s neck. “I’m adorable.”

“Sure you are, Evan.”

Tommy makes a soft, rumbly noise of approval–like a purr–and Buck chuckles at him, quiet and a little heated. Eddie turns away from them, grabs something just so his hands are busy. It feels intrusive–and it’s his damn kitchen. He hears the sound of a kiss, and embarrassed heat curls up his spine. He feels it reddening his neck and ears.

“Yeah, uh, sorry Eddie,” Buck says, distracted, and Eddie can only imagine why. He’s already pushing at Tommy, shoving him toward the door. “W-we gotta go. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He sighs and scrubs a hand through this hair. “You two get out of here.”

“Hey.” Buck drops Tommy’s hand and steps closer. “I’m serious. If you need us to stay or—if you need me to stay, then—“

“I got it, Buck,” he says, grumbling. “I’m a big boy. Now go. Maul your boyfriend before you pop a blood vessel. You’re getting your pheromones all over my kitchen.”

Buck laughs and then leans in, grabbing Eddie and reeling him in close. Their foreheads touch and Buck says “You got this, man. We… we got this. We got you.”

He pulls away and meets Tommy’s eye. He looks at Eddie with gentle, friendly concern. You good?

Eddie nods. “Go,” he says. “Get out of here.”

Buck grins, stepping backwards into Tommy. He looks over his shoulder, his expression morphing into something that Eddie recognizes as his horny face as his body spins to match his eyes. At this rate, Eddie estimates he’s about a minute away from getting his other ankle broken or having to listen to another (yeah, another—what the hell, Buck) dissertation on Tommy’s dick.

That’s definitely a hand on Buck’s ass now, and they’re swaying into each other, Buck’s eyes fixed on either Tommy’s mouth or chin.

“Yeah,” Tommy says, low and rough. “We’re gonna…” He jerks a thumb over his shoulder, never taking his eyes off Buck.

“Bye!” Buck calls. He’s pushing Tommy out and they’re both laughing and leaning in for another rushed kiss, stumbling over their feet. Eddie rolls his eyes, grinning despite himself.

[grimark]

i can just never take any complaints about media like hannibal or whatever “normalising/romanticising cannibalism” too seriously. like yeah sure this practice that has an EXTREMELY strong taboo against it in many cultures throughout most of human history is gonna be brought into vogue by uh. gay horror enjoyers on tumblr. sure. big risk we should all be worried about.

[ryllen]

alex who is good at heart & said  “good luck” when he rejected you after  “nah... I'm gonna ask someone else” on flower dance festival

and actually care about having friends,

that he has been acting friendly to u even at 0 hearts, in seek of new friend opportunity.