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animehideout · 4 months

Note

Hi um it’s my first time requesting something..😭so I mean it’s okay if you put your other requests before me

So I was thinking maybe ..can you make a reincarnated version of a princess reader and sukuna ? Like they were lovers in past but she died because villagers killed her and her family because her father was cruel but she was nice to everyone actually and that’s why he fell for her and after 400 years he saw her again but this time she’s one of the sorcerers

For Eternity

Ryomen Sukuna X fem! Sorcerer Reader (Reincarnated)

a/n: Hii anon, hear me out, I was so excited to write this one , you guys always come up with amazing ideas OMG!! I really hope you enjoy it tho 🥺❤️.

Words count : 2.9k (Not proofread)

Angst with happy ending <3

Halted mid-fight. Crimson eyes that were amused while fighting Megumi are now wide open, in shock. Aflamed with ancient fire. His mouth parted in disbelief, unable to form a sentence while looking at you, standing in front of him, in your full glory.

“That's impossible” he managed to say.

Too distracted by your surprise appearance, the love of his life, his princess, the woman he couldn't uproot from his mind despite being separated from her for 400 years, after some villagers murdered her along side her family.

Too engrossed in your face, the face he missed so much, he didn't notice Megumi's attack.

Ryomen Sukuna, the king of curses, that hundreds of sorcerers from different timelines tried to kill him but failed, ended up receiving a powerful punch on his face by Megumi.. because of you, because your presence made him weak and easily targeted.

That punch knocked some sense in him, waking him up from his trance. Now easily dodging Megumi's hits, shoving him aside, no longer interested in fighting some jujutsu sorcerer.

“Y/n” he said as he took a closer step to you, his voice was so soft and sweet, making Megumi look in confusion. “My princess” he added, gently extending his hand to you,

but was met with your cold eyes, clenching your fists into a fighting position, ready to use your jujutsu technique and kill him. Sukuna chuckled in confusion, why on earth would you fight the man you loved against your family and people's will?

“What are you doing? Y/n?” he asked not realizing that being reincarnated means forgetting your past life.

“What am I doing? I'm going to exorcise you Ryomen Sukuna and free the world from your evil” you exclaimed in a challenging voice, yet perplexed by his question and how he knew your name even though it was your first time meeting.

“Y/N RUN” yelled Megumi from the other side as Sukuna got way too close to you, but you stood your ground.

“No you won't kill me! it's me!! the man you swore to love forever–” he explained.

“HUH?!” you and Megumi said in union.

“Are you insane? clearly living for 1000 years damaged your brain” you said in a harsh tone,

furious that Sukuna was toying with you, even though he was telling the truth. Without hesitation, you started attacking him. To your and Megumi's surprise, he didn't fight you back, or even bother to block your hits, you found it as an opportunity to harm him and maybe success in exorcising him.

His soul ached with each blow you landed on him, with the words you said to him.

“Y/n stop” he said,

but you're a jujutsu sorcerer, you can't stop, you fight to protect the weak you fight to kill curses, that's what you do. He suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled you to his chest,

“Fucking stop it Y/n and fucking remember who you truly are” he yelled.

You fought against his tight grasp even though he was holding you so delicately, yet so securely afraid to let go, afraid he might loose you again.

“I'm a jujutsu sorcerer, that's what I truly am–”

“NO YOU'RE NO SORCERER, YOU'RE THE ONE WHO I REMAINED LOYAL TO EVEN AFTER YOUR DEATH, FOR LONG 400 YEARS, YOU CAN'T BE A SORCERER WHEN YOU'RE ALREADY MINE”

You couldn't say anything but stare, eyebrows frowned with the intake of words that Sukuna said to you. When he first approached you, you thought he'd easily snap you in half, or torture you to death. But he did the unexpected, the thing that nor you or Megumi anticipated. He just held you close, and started babbling nonesense.

As long as you were safe, Megumi didn't do anything, he stood there and watched things unfold, too surprised to even react.

“I.AM.NOT.YOURS” you said through gritted teeth, freeing yourself from his embrace, eyes narrowing

“Then who the hell are you?” he asked in disappointment, his eyes fixated on your figure, trying to take into every detail of yours.

Even after years, your face and body that he worshipped and still do, is still engraved im his mind to this day.

“I already said it, I'm a jujutsu sorcerer, and I exorcise things like you” you spitted angrily.

“Things?” he repeated,

his soul shattering with the eco of your voice that rang in his ears. You weren't the princess whose kindness and gentleness captivated his cold heart and ascended on the throne of his ego. Sukuna never believed in love, just power and total vigor. But a princess, with a modest heart and a pure soul swept him off his feet, 400 years ago, making him weak and needy for love, something he never experienced, something he never dreamt of untill he met you. But now, you stood in front of him, cold and distant, full of hatred and enmity towards him. Maybe..maybe if your father wasn't cruel, maybe if those fool villagers didn't kill you, maybe if Sukuna knew beforehand and manged to save you and keep you alive, you'd still be his princess, by his side and not the jujutsu sorcerer you are.

“Then you leave me with no choice Y/n” he muttered,

the idea of killing you, killed him more.

“Y/N” yelled Megumi panicking.

You wanted to run away for your life, but you couldn't. Too scared to even move? Too attached to the idea that jujutsu sorcerers never run away? Or an invisible power held you in place?

Sukuna's red eyes started glowing, evil and scary expression drawn on his face once again, making him the ruthless king of curses that he is. His eyes couldn't leave yours, taking into your sight, one last time before be kills you.

Air hitched in your lungs from fear, you knew there's no point in fighting him back now, as your jujutsu that you've spent your whole life mastering is now useless. You closed your eyes, waiting for him to just do it and end it all, your life wasn't special....but your past life was..Oh if you knew that, you wouldn't give in to death so easily.

You waited and waited but nothing happened....

Jolting, a startled gasp left your mouth when Megumi shook you awake.

“M-megumi?...Am I dead?”

“What? No!”

“D-did you kill Sukuna?”

“No”

“Then we're both dead?”

“NO, he left”

“left?”

Is it a miracle? Did Sukuna pity you and spared your life? All these questions burned in your throat, craving answers.

“Let's go” said Megumi dragging you back to Jujutsu High.

A long sleepless night, how could you sleep after the king of curses confessed his undying love to you? What is so special about you that stopped him from splitting you in half? Looking at the dark ceiling, mind wide awake for hours now.

“What game was Sukuna playing?” you said to yourself.

You refused to believe his words, but you couldn't brush the curiosity that stirred inside you. Putting your jacket on, you headed outside for some fresh air, the room was too suffocating for you. You stood outside looking at the starry night above you, eyes fixated on one particular star, your favorite that you used to watch.

“I have to meet him again” you muttered to yourself.

You knew he could easily kill you, were you dumb or brave to chase the truth from Sukuna? You needed to know, even though you put the possibility of him making all of this up to get to Gojo Satoru and the other strong sorcerers.

Busy in your thoughts, a hand covered your mouth, making you freeze in place. You could feel his strong presence, no one other than him Sukuna Ryomen. Heart hammering against your ribcage, as if he was reading your mind, you wanted to meet him again and he showed up in the middle of the night, emerging from darkness...just for you.

“Come with me”

And who were you to fight against his will, so you followed along, his hand still on your mouth and his other arm wrapped protectively around you..he was trying to protect you while you thought he's the danger. He was loving you while you thought he's the enemy. Taking you to an abandoned place, up on a hill– Everything looked so small from up there, the city lights glistening.

“You always liked to go up on a hill and watch the sunrise with me, you said they are a proof that everyday is a new beginning and a new chance” he started, peacefully looking down at the lights.

Your eyes widened, how did he know you enjoyed watching the sunrise? was he stalking you?

“If you kidnapped me to kill me then do it already!” you said coldly but deep inside shivering form his presence.

“Kill you? 400 years mourning your death and you expect me to kill you?” he said in a sad tone, his palm cupping your cheek, as his thumb caressed the smooth skin. He closed his eyes enjoying the sensation, “I love you Y/n” he added.

You could have stepped back, but something was holding you still, an unexplained force

“But I'm alive, what death are you talking about? Are you trying to drive me insane? What game are you playing Sukuna?” you drowned him in questions, that only him hold the answers for.

You almost broke down, tears threatening to fall. He helped you sit down and took a seat next to you

“I know you're confused, I can't balme you, I'm confused too, but let me explain to you..”

you nodded weakly, all what you wanted in the first place was an explanation.

“We were lovers, many years ago, you were mine... A gentle princess that I couldn't help but fall for..you, you were a princess Y/n– your family ruled back then, your father, a cruel man, an abuser who made your life a living hell, you used to escape from him and come to me, you found safety and warmth in my arms. Despite my sins, despite my cruelty, I was always gentle with you, I've never hurt you and never will, I've lived to protect you...but I failed..” he paused clenching his jaw and tightening his fists, “They took you away from me, you were a victim of their revenge, they wanted your father to suffer by taking what he had, thinking that Killing his family would make him pay for his wrong deeds towards the villagers he oppressed.....you were the price Y/n..I couldn't get a chance to revive you, they burned you alive, leaving me with nothing but emptiness..I killed them all even your father..”

You gulped, how could you believe this when you clearly have a complete different life now. It was hard to swallow his words.

“Maybe I just look like her?..I mean your past lover, maybe it's just a coincidence we have the same name and face, may–”

“NO, it's not just your face, it's your soul, I can feel it”

“So you're saying I'm a reincarnation?” you questioned and he nodded. You stood up quickly, leaving him,

“NO Y/N WAIT.. your favorite flower is Ajisai, you enjoy looking at them” he spoke trying to prove to you that he knows more about you

“Its just a guess Sukuna, anyone can like Ajisai, not only me” you fought the urge to believe him and started walking away,

“You have a crystal necklace, I gave it to you when we first met” he said again,

and you stopped in your track, no one ever saw your necklace it was always hidden beneath your clothes..

“A star, appears in the west, you've named it Heiwa (japanese word for Peace), your favorite star, manifesting peace whenever you looked at it. Collecting leaves in Autumn, you liked the degradation of the colors. Watching the rain pour for hours, dancing while getting soaked with it, saying it purifies us, Admiring the butterflies during spring, wishing that one day you become free like them...” he added.

Electricity ran through you, hands shaking, breathing heavily as your heart raced inside. How could he know every detail about you? your habits? how could he be so accurate? It's not just a coincidence so how? You turned slowly, facing him again,

“W-who are you?”

“Ryomen Sukuna, your lover”

“I can't remember anything..” you choked on tears.

“You will, if you don't fight it back, embrace it and memories will flow back” he reassured..

The first light of dawn appeared on the horizon, a gentle gradation of purples and pinks painted the sky, gradually giving way to warm oranges and yellow. You and Sukuna watched, eyes glued ti the sky, putting you at ease, as the sun rays pierced through the darkness, casting a golden glow..maybe this sunrise is a new beginning for both of you.

“I- I have to go..”

“Wait Y/n.. promise me that you'll try to remember ” he pleaded,

you nodded, sadness taking over you, you left to Jujutsu High with a heavy heart. Was your whole life a lie?

“Where have you been?” asked Gojo, catching you as you snuck into the school.

“I- Um, I” you stuttered.

“Megumi told me about your encounter with Sukuna..hm so curious, how the king of curses withdraws from a battle field?”

you remained silent as you teacher Gojo tried to read your face,

“I don't know” you said.

“I think he's got something for you Y/n”

“It doesn't matter, right?”

“Nah it does, we can use it against him maybe..”

“How?”

“It seems like Sukuna has a weakness..you!”

“And?”

“We grasp the opportunity, you trick him and lead him to our trap, if you're in of course!” he suggested.

Will you betray him and forget about the promise you just made, to try and remember.

“I don't know Sensei, I'll think about it” you answered, you weren't in a stable state of mind of take such decision.

“Take all the time you need y/n-chan” he said with a wide smile.

Straight to your room, no missions for today, you needed solitude, you needed to know who you truly were. Locked inside no matter how much your friends tried to drag you out. Thinking and thinking.. holding the necklace that Sukuna assumed he's the one who gifted it to you. You've never remember how you got in the first place, you've been wearing it for your whole life now, its just an accessory.

Day after day, growing impatient and anxious, you thought you were going crazy, unable to focus on your present while trying to remember your past. Sleepless nights, exhaustion and living nightmares.

Enough is a enough. Sneaking out of Jujutsu High, going up that hill again. You were hoping to find Sukuna there, you wanted to tell him him to just forget about you and to kill you next time in battle. You couldn't remember, but you knew there was something hidden, far away from your reach and it tortured you. With heavy steps you hiked up...but he wasn't there...Sighing, maybe it was all a lie. Your eyes looked up, there was Heiwa, the star you named.

“please show me the truth...please I need to remember ” you pleaded to the universe, desperately whispering.

You brought you necklace that was hidden under your sweater, kissing it. The soft morning lights started crawling, your favorite star's glow slowly fading..

“Who am Im?” you asked again.

Suddenly the crystal on your necklace started ti glow once it was touched by the sun's rays. Your eyes widened, the necklace was always tucked under your clothes, never seen the day light. Each luminous pulse from the crystal seemed to sync with your heartbeat. Eyes fixated on it, you held it up, exactly in the middle aligned with the sun that rose from the east and the star thay faded in the west. The crystal radiated with memories from your past life

“I accept it, I accept my truth” you whispered.

Images, voices, scents, faces and emotions started to flow into your mind like a running river. Overwhelmed by the sudden remembrance you started crying

“I-its real” you cried out.

The crystal that once was worn as a simple accessory, transformed into a vessel of remembrance, channeling gour past life into your present, it channelled your love for Sukuna as well. Your heart suddenly full of him, as if you loved him for years, as if you've never been apart.

“Sukuna– I have to find him” you said to yourself,

ready to run as fast as you could to reach your lover and hug him again, to feel his warmth. As you turned at a random speed, you bumped into his chest, he was there, for you. His arms circled around your body, stopping you form stumbling backwards.

“S-sukuna?” you said softly,

throwing yourself into his embrace, burying your head in the crook of his neck, while sobbing uncontrollably. His strong arms pulled you close, leaving no space between your bodies.

“I knew you'd remember” he said smiling nuzzling into your hair.

You pulled away a little to look at his face, his thumb wiped your tears, his touch making your heart pound fast.

“I love you” you confessed.

“I love you too, I swear I'll protect you , I won't let anyone take you away from me this time”.

He pressed his lips against yours, pouring all of his love that was kept unspoken of after your death for 400 years into the kiss. You kissed him back, passionately. He pushed your head from the back further to his face, deepening the kiss. Oh how much he missed your taste, how much he missed your soft lips and how perfectly they fit with his. Leaving you completely breathless, hungry for more– His lips danced in sync with yours, completely devouring each other. He finally rested his forehead on yours and said,

“It doesn't matter, past or present, because in each life, you'll be only mine”.

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north-noire · 2 months

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My Michael Afton throughout the years! ft. his own little doodles. I'll try to be brief about the timeline and how my Michael was without saying too much since it'll be explored in the Hidden Hands AU fic's chapters anyway so I won't say all the details. Feel free to read if you guys like! I have a lot to say about him.

1983 (FNAF 4) - Michael was 12 or 13-ish when the Bite happened. Very reckless yet adventurous kid. Didn't really hate Evan (William, as much as he had a soft spot for Evan, still loved Michael all the same), just had really bad friends and influence (his friends were mostly bullies) - and didn't really like that he's being told to parent a little brother he had no idea how to take care of. It didn't help that Evan tended to be a tattle-tail sometimes about the trouble he was getting into. Michael also, deep down, got scared of what the bullies would do to him if he dared stand up for his brother or spoke out against them, so he ends up going along with what they did for his own sake. After the Bite, Michael was still deeply guilty about what he did to Evan, and it haunts him every night, knowing he had no good excuse but irresponsibility for what he did to his brother, because after all, it wasn't like William wasn't giving him enough attention. Michael just knew that he deserved anything unfortunate coming to him, but is genuinely surprised that his father kept telling him he loved him all the same. From this point on, he becomes easily troubled, tends to stay close to his dad. Makes sure he follows the rules and doesn't do trouble. Just wants to do a complete personality shift, and is deeply ashamed of who he was before. 1985 (Charlie's death, Fredbear's Family Diner shuts down) - Michael was 15 here. Over the years, he slowly isolated himself from most of the people in his life since he gets worried about his past scars coming back to haunt him. Mostly a recluse and reserved. He's not handling things well after Charlie's death and a family divorce - not to mention the non-existent social life he had. Just prefers to be left alone, but he's nice if you get to know him. Doesn't really have a good relationship with Elizabeth, but is actually pretty close with William. Feels extremely guilty and hates himself/blames himself for Charlie's death. He gets paranoid easily, as he thinks whoever took Charlie is now after him, but his father tells him to not worry too much about it. 1987 (FNAF 2) - (17) Slowly having a good relationship with Elizabeth. Starts to get into stuff like the supernatural and becomes superstitious to a degree over the years. In public, he's mostly polite and nice, but his actual personality shows through whenever he's with his father or Elizabeth - he's sarcastic, and has quite a dark sense of humor, can be a bit of a rebel, he's just more subtle about it. A bit of an over-thinker - he gets lost in his imagination/head easily. Has a (surprisingly) good relationship with his dad, as he's not really afraid to be himself around him - sometimes gifts him funny things or something he knows his dad would love/would use (he gifts William a rabbit's foot - for good luck, he says). He also helped William build the Fun-Times with blueprints and other technicalities (He's not really aware of the questionable features they had, unfortunately). He couldn't really come with his father and Elizabeth on Circus Baby's Pizza World opening due to things he had to catch up with his home-schooling, he had been skipping classes to work on the Fun-Times, but he really wanted to graduate highschool with a bang, so he's giving everything his all, here. Then Elizabeth suddenly goes missing all of a sudden, and, well... I would say more, but my fic sort of takes a canon-divergence route around FNAF 2/SL-FNAF 1 so that would spoil half of the stuff I've been working/writing about! Reference-sheet wise, I just wanted to show how he progresses from a rebellious, happy and adventurous kid into a more reclused, anxious and soft-spoken adult. Sorry for the long post! I've just been wanting to talk about him for some time now. There's a looot more that I've left out but yeah that's because there will be more in the fic!

#yeah in this au my michael and william actually have a decent father-son relationship even after the bite. even after all that will's done.#michael just... isn't aware of what his dad did yet for the meantime.#ik william isn't a great father at ALL in canon but let me WRITE my AU the way i want okay?#hidden hands au #fnaf au #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf fanart #michael afton #mike afton #fnaf michael afton #fnaf mike afton #long post #my art

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rosazoldyckk · 1 year

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-Yandere Killua X Reader X Yandere Illumi-

⚠️warning⚠️ mentions of obsessive and possessive thinking

Fandom: Hunter X Hunter Character(s): Illumi Zoldyck, Killua Zoldyck

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You were the sole butler in the entire Zoldyck mansion allowed to touch master Killua.

When he was younger, Killua had many different servants who touched him, whether it was to tend to his wounds after Zoldyck training or to coddle him as he ventured around the mountain. But these days only you out of all the servants were allowed that close to him, the only one he wanted close to him. And when you had arrived in the mansion moments ago, it had turned out that you being close to him was exactly what Killua wanted. Grabbing your hand, he told you to 'hang out' with him.

It was a common enough order from Killua, one that you were used to carrying out, especially before he was sent out on his mission by his father. But he had always given that order either outside the mansion or in his bedroom, never before had he asked you to do such a thing in the mansion where anyone else could see. You wondered at his sudden desire to have you administer to him infront of his family but did not dare venture to ask him. You had enough experience with his fierce moods to know it was better not to make such an inquiry.

"You know," came Killua's voice, cold and clear, "out of all of the comforts from home that I missed while I was away, I believe I missed this most of all." Though he did not say it aloud, you knew that what he truly meant was that he missed you most of all. Killua would probably never admit it though.

"I am glad to hear it, Master Killua."

"Tell me, did you happen to miss me while I'm away?"

"Of course, Master Killua," you reassured him. "I wait eagerly for your return each day."

Killua smirked in satisfaction at your answer, closing his eyes as you both relaxed underneath the trees. Once the sound of familiar footsteps reached his ears though, he opened his eyes to see Illumi standing before the both if you.

Breath hitching in your throat, you shot up and greeted the assassin, so great was your shock at seeing Master Illumi so suddenly. Though you knew that he had a tendency to show up unannounced from time to time, you had not actually seen him until this moment. Illumi, however, had seen you, watching you from the shadows and hidden alcoves of the palace. Even though Illumi had not seen you since the last time you were in the Zoldyck mansion, his obsession for you had not faded at all. In fact, being parted from you had only made his feelings grow stronger. But that meant that when he entered the Forrest to see you with his brother, it took all of his restraint to withhold the rage crackling in his veins.

"Oh hey big brother," Killua sighed as he stretched. "I don't suppose you remember Y/N? Our butler?" Illumi's eyes slid over to Killua at his taunting, taking a moment to briefly glare at him before returning his possessive gaze to you. Forgetting you had never even been a possibility, had not even been something Illumi had wanted to be a possibility. Killua knew that for himself, for he too had been unable to forget you while he was away. Even before he ran away from home, in the early days of your training as a Zoldyck butler, the two siblings had fought over your services and attention, each of them wanting you to themselves. Once Illumi had been distracted by his upcoming missions, Killua had relished the opportunity to take you for himself, certain that he had won. Now that Illumi had finally come home, he was more than ready to make up for lost time.

"I need you," Illumi said to you, ignoring Killua entirely.

Not sure what you should do, you simply continued to stare at Illumi. Out of the two assassin siblings, you were more afraid of Illumi than you were of Killua, knowing that he would be far more willing to hurt you in order to get his way. Yet Killua was the next in line to head the Zoldyck family, and as such you were duty-bound to serve him above all others except the current head of the family. Illumi seemed to understand your hesitancy though, his blank coal eyes softening at the sight of you so unsure.

"I'm afraid that I have to steal them from you," he told his brother.

"Well, who am I to deny my big brother, the eldest can do what he wants?" Although Killua certainly did not want you leaving his side, especially for you to join his brother, he knew when to pick his battles and when to wait for the best moment to strike.

"I promise to take good care of them."

"Oh, I know you will," Killua answered, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Well?" Illumi asked, once more turning to you. "Are you coming?"

"Yes, Master Illumi," you said, quickly leaving Killua's sight as you followed Illumi.

It only took mere seconds for you to end up pinned against the brick wall behind the mansion. Illumi took one step towards you, finally closing the distance between your bodies, so that your chests were practically pressed against each other.

It was a split second decision when you lifted your head up to capture his lips this time, pouring all the emotion you possibly could into the act in an attempt to appeal to whatever amount of sanity remained in his body.

His reaction was almost immediate.

Illumi let out a noise somewhere between a possessive growl and a hum of approval as he kissed you back harder than before. He had the faintest blush of pink across his cheeks, a few of the shorter strands of his hair were falling in front of his face - which would occasionally be caught in the kiss, not that he cared. He wasn't out of breath, but his breathing was heavy. He had transferred both your hands to one of his own, his free hand Resting behind your head gently pushing you deeper into the kiss.

And the look on his face... The pure hunger that was there before he took you away was gone. He was positively ravenous for you now.

He pulled back very suddenly, the slight sweat that had been shared between your two bodies leaving you unexpectedly cold and confused; whatever was left of your mind desperately trying to understand why he would stop so abruptly. Your answer was given when Illumi pulled you into his body. Holding you possessively as you continued to gasp for air.

"I missed you every day that I was gone," Illumi murmured possessively. "Did you know that?"

"I know."

#hunter x hunter x reader #hxh x reader #hxh x y/n #hunter x hunter x y/n #yandere #yandere x darling #hunter x hunter #hxh fanfic #tw obsessive behavior #yandere x reader #yandere hxh #yandere illumi #hxh illumi #yandere killua #killua x reader #illumi x reader #hxh zoldyck #killua x you #illumi x you

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wholoveseggs · 2 months

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Hey, I love the stories you are writing for us! Thank you so much! If there's room for another one, here's an idea: human reader is pregnant with Elijah's child but is afraid he might not believe her as it is impossible for a vampire to procreate. His reaction, in fact, causes her to leave New Orleans, and a few years later, she returns, and Elijah learns he is a dad. Fluffy, possibly smutty. ")

Devotion

he's so daddy, he's so father

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

When you find out you are pregnant you are afraid of how Elijah will react. His anxieties around fatherhood get the best of him and he gives in to his darker impulses.

♡♡ Thanks for the request(s) @originals23 @classymesstuff009 & anon ♡♡

I combined the ideas and changed some elements, but I hope I captured the spirit of the requests -xoxo

7.7k words - Warnings: this is less of a story with a plot and more of a series of events over the course of readers pregnancy, lots of angst, childbirth, so so so corny, so much fluff, lots of belly touches, Elijah being violently over protective, more fluff, lots of affection, smut at the end, unprotected sex (duh)

"No no no no no," you mumbled, staring down at the fourth positive pregnancy test you'd taken that day. This couldn't be happening, it wasn't possible. But as you glanced over the little box and read the word "pregnant" again and again, it began to sink in. You were having a baby, Elijah Mikaelson's baby, a baby whose existence was impossible.

A sob you had been suppressing broke free, and you collapsed on the edge of the tub. You had no idea what you were going to do, your relationship with Elijah was complicated and had no label, and the thought of raising a baby by yourself was daunting.

"I'll figure it out," you told yourself as you pulled yourself up and splashed some cold water on your face.

You needed to tell Elijah, which was an entirely different kind of terrifying. He had always been very clear that vampires were unable to procreate, so he likely would not believe you. The thought made your stomach turn, and you rushed to the toilet once more to empty the meager contents.

It took you a couple weeks before you were able to build up the courage to tell Elijah. You had tried to find the words to break the news, but every time you thought you had it figured out, you panicked and decided against it.

But you were starting to show, and you knew it wouldn't be long until your clothes no longer concealed your growing belly. So, the day after your second ultrasound you invited Elijah over for dinner.

He was worried about you, it had been over a month since he'd seen you last and over two months since the last time you were intimate together. He missed you, and wondered if you'd met someone else. But that was the only explanation he could think of.

When he arrived at your place, he noticed something different right away. You looked exhausted, but you had a small glow to you, he also noticed that you gained some weight and he enjoyed how it filled out your figure.

You greeted him at the door, and he pressed a kiss to your cheek before handing you a bottle of wine. "Thank you," you smiled softly, leading him inside and taking the wine to the kitchen.

"It's been awhile," Elijah began, not knowing where to start, "are you doing alright?"

"Not exactly," you admitted, pouring two glasses of water and taking a seat on the couch next to him. Your hands began to shake, fear gripping you once more.

Elijah reached over and took your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "What is wrong?" He asked, searching your eyes.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes for a moment before speaking. "I'm pregnant."

You could see the confusion, the anger, the disappointment and a dozen other emotions flash through his eyes. You couldn't stand the way he was looking at you, so you pulled your hand from his and stood, pacing around the room.

Elijah didn't know what to think, clearly you were seeing someone else. It hurt him, but neither of you ever had the talk about being exclusive. The thought of you with another man disappointed him immensely, it made him realize how much he wanted you all to himself. But it was too late for that now.

"Elijah, say something," you begged, tears streaming down your face. You were desperate for him to just say anything.

"Who is the father?" He questioned, his voice low.

You expected this question and had thought about your response for a while. Of course he wouldn't think it was his, it was impossible. But you had been with no one else, and you were tired of being a secret, you wanted to be a family, and if he rejected the idea, then that was on him.

"You," you answered, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

"That's not possible," he shook his head. "I can't procreate."

"Klaus can, why not you?" You snapped. You weren't expecting him to believe you, but the reality of it hurt more than you expected.

"Klaus is unique, I am not," he stated plainly. You were quite distressed and although he didn't believe himself to be the father he still had sympathy for your situation.

“Is the father not... A good man?" He asked.

You began to sob, the hormones were really working against you, and you didn't know what to do. He had no idea how to react, and the longer you stayed silent, the more worried he became.

"I'm sorry," he spoke, his voice low, as he moved towards you.

"Don't," you shook your head, pulling away from his touch. "If you don't believe me, that's fine. I'm not going to beg you. I can raise this baby on my own."

"I can't be the father, y/n," Elijah said, trying to reach for you once more.

"Just leave, please," you pleaded. He didn't believe you, he thought you were seeing someone else, and you couldn't stand to be in the same room with him any longer. "Get out Elijah!" You shouted.

Frustration rose within him, he didn't enjoy being blamed for something he didn't do.

“Fine," he muttered, moving towards the door.

You felt overwhelmed with despair and wanted nothing more to do with him, so you watched him walk out the door without saying a word.

It had been a few weeks since you last saw Elijah and your mental health was deteriorating at an alarming rate. You had very little support financially or emotionally and it was taking a toll on you.

You hadn't slept or eaten well and when you did, you often felt sick afterwards. You had known about postpartum depression, but apparently there was something called prenatal depression as well. You had been reading online about the symptoms, and it was almost as though you were looking in a mirror.

You needed help, but couldn't will yourself to ask for it. You had no family, and no friends in the city. The only person you knew in Louisiana was Elijah, and you didn't want anything to do with him.

His rejection of you and the baby hurt more than anything you'd ever experienced before. You couldn't even bring yourself to look at a picture of the ultrasound. You felt alone and abandoned.

You would walk the streets at night, a foolish thing to do considering the threats in New Orleans. But it was the only thing that seemed to calm your mind, and the fresh air helped ease the nausea.

It was a clear, warm night and the streets were quiet. The soft glow of the street lights created a calming atmosphere, and the cool breeze blew the hair away from your face. You closed your eyes and breathed deeply, enjoying the moment of peace.

Then you started to cry, your hormones making you feel like you were losing your mind. You hated it, you would start to cry for no reason and then cry some more because you were frustrated over crying for no reason. It was an endless cycle.

You felt so lost, you thought you could do this all on your own, but you hadn't even had the baby yet and you were falling apart. Even though Elijah didn't believe the child to be his, it was still a Mikaelson and that came with many consequences, some you couldn't possibly foresee. You knew of Hope and how she barely survived her birth, what if the same thing happened to you and your child? You didn't have Elijah to protect you.

You knew you needed to swallow your pride and convince Elijah, he was the only one who could protect both of you.

Your feet took you to the compound before you could talk yourself out of it, and you stood at the gates, hesitating for a moment before making your way inside. You could feel the baby kick and move, it strengthened your resolve.

Elijah was in his study when he heard you approaching, and he wondered what you wanted. He decided to leave you alone after you kicked him out. It was the right thing to do, he reminded himself, he was not the father.

When he saw you standing in the doorway, he could tell you were upset, but he had no desire to talk to you, not after the last time.

"Elijah, please listen to me," you said softly, the words sticking in your throat. "The baby is yours, I have never slept with anyone but you. There is no one else, only you."

He sighed, he wished he could believe you, but he knew it was not possible. He wondered how awful the true father had to be if you were here lying to him once again.

"I know we were never exclusive, but I wish you would be honest with me about whoever the father is," he said, his voice low.

You stared at him for a moment before a sob escaped your lips. "Elijah, there is no one else, there has never been anyone else."

"Why do you insist upon lying?" He asked, turning away from you, unable to stand the pain in your eyes.

Sudden rage boiled over inside of you and you lashed out at the nearby table, knocking the items onto the floor. "I am not fucking lying!" You shouted.

Your outburst was quite unexpected, and he turned back to look at you, his eyes narrowing. Before he could say anything Freya walked in, alerted by the yelling and broken glass.

"What's going on?" She asked, stepping in between the two of you.

The tears returned, always at the most inconvenient times, and you just sobbed into your hands and knelt to the floor. Pure frustration and exhaustion took over and you were completely overwhelmed.

Freya looked at Elijah, confused and annoyed. He wasn't the type to yell, and certainly not at a pregnant woman. She wondered what was going on and why you were so upset.

Elijah shook his head, and began cleaning up the mess you'd made. He couldn't bear to look at you, the pain in your eyes was too much for him.

Freya walked over and knelt next to you, rubbing your back. "Tell me what's wrong sweetheart," she said softly.

The moment Freya touched you she felt it, her own blood, running through your veins.

"It's okay," Freya assured you. "Can I touch your belly?"

You nodded again, and she gently placed her hand over the swell, and instantly felt the magic pulsating from your womb. Freya could always sense her own blood, so long she searched for it. And here it was, right in front of her.

She was overjoyed, she had a niece or nephew, a new tiny Mikaelson for her to dote on. She was also so angry at her foolish brother she could have strangled him.

"Elijah," she said sternly, mustering her big sister voice to scold her little brother. "It's yours," she said firmly, standing and facing him.

He froze, a mixture of emotions passing through him. First he felt disbelief, then excitement, and finally dread. If this was his child, then the threats they faced everyday were even more dangerous.

"Are you certain?" He asked, not wanting to believe, fear gripping his heart.

Freya nodded, and moved to stand next to you, helping you to your feet. You were exhausted, physically and emotionally.

"Why didn't you bring her to me sooner?" She asked him, helping you over to the sofa and fetching you a glass of water. "Look at her Elijah, how could you leave her like this?"

He knew his sister was right, and he felt ashamed. He had been a fool, and caused you unnecessary suffering. He would not be making that mistake again.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, coming to kneel in front of you. "Forgive me, please."

"I tried to tell you," you said softly, sniffling quietly.

"Leave us Freya, thank you," he said, not taking his eyes off you.

Freya was reluctant, but agreed, closing the door behind her. Elijah sat next to you, his posture stiff, and his face a stony expression. You were afraid, unsure what he would do or say.

He was always prone to self-loathing, but this was a new level, and he didn't know what to do. He felt incredibly guilty and responsible for the pain and stress he caused you. You did not look well, and he knew he needed to do everything he could to fix this.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, you looked dazed and swayed a bit, he pulled you close, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Don't apologize," you whispered, lifting your head and looking at him, "just promise you will help me, that's all I ask,"

Elijah was taken aback by the request. Of course he was going to help, why wouldn't he? But the fact that you needed to ask, made him feel terrible, made him feel like Klaus.

"Of course," he assured you, brushing a stray tear from your cheek.

A few tears escaped your eyes. You were tired and overwhelmed and his words and gentle touches were enough to completely break you. You began to cry, burying your face in his chest as you sobbed. A tidal wave of conflicting emotions washing over you, frustration, anger, guilt and a tiny hint of relief.

Elijah felt terrible, and he hated himself for causing this. You were pregnant, alone, and suffering. He would never forgive himself.

"You will stay here and you don't have to worry about a thing," he soothed, gently rubbing your back, "I will take care of everything, I promise,"

He meant it, you and the baby were his responsibility now, and he would protect you both with his life.

It had been a month since you moved into the compound and Elijah was true to his word and took care of everything.

He compelled doctors to check on you and Freya was also doing a spell daily to ensure the baby was healthy and developing well.

But he didn't have to compel people for the things that mattered. He was the one cooking your meals, helping with the nursery, and ensuring you were getting rest.

One night after dinner, you were sitting on the sofa together, talking and laughing.

You were starting to feel better, but you still struggled with your emotions, and Elijah did his best to make sure you were always happy and stress free.

You began to feel a little anxious, and he immediately sensed it, pulling you close to cuddle with him. Neither of you had discussed your growing feelings and neither of you knew where you stood with each other.

He placed a warm hand on your growing bump, and it instantly soothed the baby, and in turn, helped calm your nerves. You leaned closer into him and he wrapped his other arm around your shoulder.

He enjoyed having you so close, and he could smell the sweet scent of your shampoo as you rested your head against his shoulder. He still felt such guilt for the pain and stress he had caused you.

"Is this okay?" He asked softly, his hand slowly moving over the swell.

You smiled, enjoying the gentle caress. "Mmhmm," you hummed, snuggling deeper into his side.

He was being very sweet, and you were beginning to suspect that he had more than just feelings of obligation for the baby.

Elijah was enjoying the feeling of your body pressed against his, and he hoped that he could continue to make amends for the way he behaved.

"Have you thought of any names?" He asked, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"Hmmm," you thought, enjoying the warmth of his hand and the rumble of his chest. "I'm thinking… Elijah jr," you teased, giggling.

He chuckled and gave you a light squeeze. "Absolutely not," he smirked, kissing the top of your head.

It was a pleasant moment and the two of you laughed and talked about the upcoming birth and baby names.

Eventually, you fell asleep, and Elijah picked you up and carried you to bed. He gently tucked you in and placed a kiss on your forehead.

Now that you were asleep, he could let his own anxieties surface. The trauma around Hope's birth still haunted him and he would do anything to prevent that from happening to you.

So he did the same thing he had done every night since you moved in. He left the compound to go hunting.

The first night you arrived, he went out for a drink, planning on just having one to calm his nerves. But then he heard a group of young vampires discussing the strung out looking pregnant woman walking the streets at night. And when they wondered what a pregnant woman's blood would taste like... Well they didn't stand a chance after that.

It made him feel better, seeing their body parts scattered around him, to smell their blood and have their dead hearts in his hands.

And so on it went, he would stalk the streets of the French Quarter, waiting for anyone to dare mention you or the baby. It didn't matter who, why or even where, they would never get a chance to speak again.

Every night he would return, his hunger sated, and he would climb into bed with you. You were still sound asleep and unaware of what he was doing. He would pull you close to him, and listen to the soft rhythmic beat of your heart and the heart of his child. It was the only thing that calmed him, and it helped him drift off into a peaceful sleep.

But that night you woke, the baby was kicking and it made you feel nauseous. You got up to go to the bathroom, too groggy to notice Elijah in the shower until you walked in.

You gasped at the sight of him covered in blood, halfway through washing it off of him under the warm water.

He noticed the shocked look on your face, and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist.

"Is that... blood?" You asked, eyeing the pink tint to the water as it disappeared down the drain.

Elijah hesitated, "it's nothing you need to worry about," he insisted.

He wasn't trying to lie or deceive you, he was trying to protect you. He knew it was twisted and wrong, and he would be the first to admit he had a dark side, but he would never want you to see it.

"Why are you covered in blood?" You asked, a feeling of dread settling in the pit of your stomach.

Elijah was not accustomed to answering questions, he was usually the one giving the orders, but you were not one of his siblings. He would tell you the truth, you deserved that.

"It's the blood of those who wish to do us harm," he admitted.

He expected you to be shocked, but the truth was, you weren't. He was a Mikaelson, and a powerful vampire, it was only natural that others would want to hurt him and his family. Hayley had shared with you what happened to her when she gave birth to Hope, you were beyond frightened of it happening to you. Fear is a powerful thing, it can override any sort of morals you may possess.

"And did you kill them?" You asked, looking directly into his eyes.

He nodded, he could see that you were not upset, and he was relieved.

"How many?"

Elijah was slightly taken aback by your curiosity, and it gave him pause.

"A lot," he admitted, his dark eyes flashing in the dim light of the room.

"I know you are afraid, I am too," you said softly, reaching out and touching his face. "I'm afraid of the birth, of our child being in danger," you confessed, "and I'm afraid for you and all the darkness you take on to protect us,"

"I'm doing what I have to," he said softly, covering your hand with his.

"I know," you nodded, leaning closer and resting your forehead against his. "And I am grateful for that, and I trust you, but I don't want you to be consumed by it,"

He wrapped his arms around your waist and held you tight, listening to the gentle beat of your heart and that of your child.

"Let's get you back to bed," he said softly, kissing your forehead.

You were still exhausted, and he wanted you to rest. He helped you back to bed and tucked you in, placing a soft kiss on your forehead before heading to his own room.

From that night on he stopped hunting, and spent more time with you. The two of you were becoming closer, but he didn't want you do feel any sort of pressure to be with him. He would be happy with whatever you were comfortable with.

He was plagued by nightmares, visions of you dead in his arms the same way Hayley was, and he woke up in a cold sweat every night. He would climb into bed next to you and pull you close, placing his hand on your bump and waiting for the baby to kick. When the child would move, it was a reassurance that the two of you were alive, and you were safe.

Your eighth month of pregnancy was difficult, and Elijah had become even more attentive. Your ankles were swollen, your back ached, and the baby was a wild one.

But the worst part was the hormones, they were completely out of control. You cried at everything, the commercial about a cute dog, a sad movie, and even a happy song. You were a wreck and it was a struggle just to get through the day.

Hayley, Rebekah and Freya had noticed your increasing distress and decided to throw you a baby shower. It was nice to be surrounded by people that cared about you.

The women of the Mikaelson family understood you more than anyone ever could, and they did their best to make sure you were comfortable. Hayley was especially sympathetic and supportive, having been through it herself.

"The last three months are killer," she laughed, patting your belly.

"Tell me about it," you sighed, watching Rebekah and Freya decorate the courtyard for the upcoming party.

"They are really going all out for this," Hayley laughed, and you could tell she was pleased that the other two were trying to make you feel welcome.

"I think it's more for the baby than me," you giggled, "they love being aunties,"

"Am I an auntie too?" Hayley teased, knowing she wasn't biologically connected, but the baby was still family.

You nodded, and she was beaming with joy.

"Well, i'm excited for Hope to have a little cousin, she needs someone to play with," Hayley smiled, her hand still resting on your belly.

You were both startled by a sudden sharp movement from the baby, and laughed.

"Well, this one will definitely keep her on her toes," you laughed.

The party was extravagant to say the least, it was more of a ball than a baby shower. Klaus had invited every faction of the supernatural world and there was an assortment of vampires, witches and wolves mingling together.

Klaus and Elijah decided to take an entirely different approach to your pregnancy and the impending birth than the one they had with Hayley.

They knew not to repeat the mistakes they made the first time and wanted to foster peace and harmony among the factions.

Elijah was on edge, his nightmares becoming increasingly worse, and he was struggling to find a way to ease his anxieties.

He would have preferred not to have this party, but he was overridden by the rest of his family.

He knew it was important, a sign of good faith and acceptance. But his mind was plagued with the past and the pain and suffering that came from that. He wanted to forget the horrors and the violence and the blood, and focus on the future and the new life that was coming.

He dove head first into the politics, spending the evening schmoozing and talking business with the representatives of each faction. It was the only way for him to feel calm and in control, and it kept his mind from drifting into darker corners.

"Are you okay?"

His thoughts were interrupted by you, and the sound of your voice calmed him. You had come over to him and was holding his hand, looking concerned.

You looked so beautiful, your hair in soft curls, your belly protruding from a flowy blue dress. You were round and glowing and a perfect picture of motherhood.

"Of course," he assured you, squeezing your hand and taking a sip of his drink.

You were worried about him, he seemed distant and preoccupied.

"It's too much isn't it? This party," you asked, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the crowds.

"No," he shook his head, "it's wonderful," he forced a smile, not wanting to worry you.

"If you want to leave, we can," you offered, feeling uncomfortable, and not wanting him to be either.

He kissed the side of your head, a gesture that made you blush. "This is for the baby, and I will not deny the baby anything,"

Elijah had always been a bit affectionate towards you, but he never overstepped his bounds and you were unsure of how to handle it. You enjoyed his presence, but it was getting a little confusing.

You were a bit flustered, and excused yourself, going to find some air outside. Elijah watched as you walked away and was tempted to follow, but he had his hands full, trying to talk the wolves out of challenging a vampire for a perceived slight.

You leaned against the balcony, letting the cool air calm your nerves.

"How's it going?" Said a party goer, you weren't sure what faction they were a part of, but they seemed a little drunk.

"Fine," you said, not wanting to be bothered.

"Pregnant with a Mikaelson, that's some shit luck," he snorted, clearly intoxicated.

"Excuse me?" You scoffed, wondering why this was a topic of discussion.

"I mean, there are three benefits to fucking vampires," he began, holding his hand up to count them, "one, no diseases, two, usually really good in bed and three, no pregnancies,"

He began to laugh, and you felt angry and defensive.

"I would appreciate it if you kept your mouth shut," you warned, not wanting to hear the drunken ramblings of an idiot.

"Was it worth one and maybe two to not have the third?" He laughed, clearly not getting the hint.

You were furious, and you went to walk away, but he grabbed your arm. "Lemme touch your belly, I wonder how strong a Mikaelson kicks," he laughed.

Before you could react Elijah appeared and had the drunk man by the throat. A crowd of party goers gathered to watch the scene.

Elijah was completely overcome by his rage, the fear in your eyes when the man grabbed you took him right back into his endless nightmares. A small part of him knew he should let the man go, but he couldn't, he was consumed by the thought that if he let go, he would lose you, and that was unacceptable.

He squeezed tighter and the man gagged, clawing at his hands and begging for mercy. The crowd gasped in horror as Elijah's eyes went black and veins crawled across his face.

"To anyone here who thinks it's okay to touch her, let this be an example of the fate you await," he snarled.

"Elijah!" You yelled, but it was too late.

The man was dead, and his head fell from his body.

You stood in shock, the entire party was silent, and Elijah dropped the body and turned towards you. He was shaking, and his eyes returned to their normal color, the veins disappearing from his face.

He turned to the crowd, projecting his voice loud and clear. "Do I make myself clear?" He growled, looking at the faces of everyone around him.

The room was full of fearful nods, and the crowd slowly dispersed.

Elijah took your hand, leading you out of the courtyard and towards his room.

You followed without a word, still in shock. He closed the door behind you and you sat down on his bed.

"Are you alright?" He asked, kneeling in front of you, his hands on your bump.

You nodded, and placed your hands over his.

"You have to understand," he began, and you could hear the strain in his voice, "when he touched you, when I saw his hands on you, I..."

He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, "I can't- I won't. Lose you."

"It's okay," you soothed, placing a hand on his cheek.

Elijah could hardly control his emotions, the fear and anguish was too much, and he let out a sob, pulling you into his arms and holding you tight.

You cradled his head in your hands and held him close, whispering sweet words and letting him know it was okay.

He was the strongest person you had ever known, and seeing him like this made your heart break.

"Shhh," you soothed, kissing the top of his head, "I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere,"

You felt his grip loosen, and his breathing became more steady.

"It's okay," you repeated, placing soft kisses on his cheek and forehead, and moving to his lips.

You hadn't kissed in nearly 8 months, not since the night you had made love and conceived the baby. But you felt him return the kiss, and he wrapped his arms around you.

He was hesitant and unsure of how you would respond. You had been together once, but things had been complicated and stressful. But he wanted to show you just how much he loved you.

He pulled away, searching your eyes, and finding only compassion and acceptance.

"I'm hoping we can try again, to be together, if you will have me," he whispered, brushing a lock of hair out of your face.

You leaned into his touch, and he was hopeful that you would want the same.

"Of course," you agreed, pressing a soft kiss against his lips, and running your fingers through his hair.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other and enjoying the moment. It was peaceful and the first time Elijah had truly felt at ease in months.

The day of the birth was finally upon you, and you were nervous and in pain. Freya and Hayley were at your side, holding your hand and trying to keep you calm as they helped you through your labor.

Elijah was pacing in the hallway, anxious and on edge. He had been a wreck, barely able to eat or sleep, and it was obvious to the entire family.

He stopped, listening to you moan and groan and hiss in pain. He wished he could take it all away, and felt a wave of guilt wash over him.

"Why don't you go be with her," Rebekah suggested, putting a hand on her brothers shoulder.

"She doesn't want me in there," he sighed, he had tried, and you had pushed him out, not wanting him to see you like this.

"She's in pain, she's probably not thinking clearly," Rebekah insisted, "trust me, she wants you in there,"

Elijah wasn't sure, but he couldn't handle not being near you any longer, so he went in, ready to be rejected.

You were in bed, sweating and panting and groaning. Hayley was holding your hand and Freya was using a spell to soothe your pain.

You opened your eyes, and saw him, and reached out for him, and he ran to your side, taking your other hand in his.

"You are doing so well," he said softly, his voice full of love.

"I can't," you groaned, feeling as though you couldn't go on.

"Yes, you can," he encouraged, kissing your knuckles.

You were in agony, but his touch and his voice were like a balm to your soul, and it gave you strength.

Rebekah was right, having him next to you was the best thing in the world, and it helped you through the hours of labor.

Finally, the moment came, and you screamed as you gave one final push. The room was filled with the sound of a crying infant and you collapsed back against the pillows.

"It's a boy!" Freya announced, cutting the umbilical cord and wrapping the baby up, passing him over to you.

"Oh my goodness," you cried, tears of joy running down your face as you looked down at the precious life in your arms.

"A boy," Elijah whispered, staring at his son in awe. He reached out and placed his hand on his sons head, feeling the soft downy hair.

"He's beautiful," Hayley commented, admiring the little bundle.

"Just like his father," you smiled, and Elijah kissed the top of your head, wrapping his arms around you and your new baby.

You were exhausted, but ecstatic, and Elijah couldn't help but feel pride and joy. He had helped create such a perfect and precious creature. Out of all of his darkness came something pure and beautiful, and he would do anything to protect his son.

As the night went on the others left, leaving you and Elijah alone with the baby. The both of you couldn't take your eyes off of him.

"We need to decide on a name," you said softly, stroking the babies face with your finger.

"I think," Elijah began, watching the baby squirm and wriggle, "he should be named after his uncle Henrik,"

"That's perfect," you smiled, a tear running down your cheek, "Henry,"

"Henry," Elijah repeated, looking at his son, "I'm your father, and I promise to always love and protect you,"

"I will love you, until the end of time," you whispered, placing a soft kiss on Henry's tiny nose.

Henry let out a little squeak and yawned, and you and Elijah laughed. He was the most perfect thing you and Elijah had ever seen, and the two of you couldn't stop smiling.

Life at the compound was hectic, with Hope and Henry underfoot. Elijah was always watching the babies, making sure they were safe and happy. He was a wonderful father and uncle, and it made you fall in love with him even more.

The two of you were utterly exhausted new parents and Rebekah insisted that the two of you take a break and spend a little time together. She convinced you and Elijah to let her care for Henry for a weekend, while the two of you got away.

It was hard for both of you, you had never been apart from him for more than a few hours, but the two of you needed the time alone.

"Just go, have fun," Rebekah had encouraged, taking Henry from Elijah, "you both need a break,"

The drive was long, but Elijah's company made it go by faster, and you finally arrived at the cabin.

"I hope this is okay," Elijah said, helping you out of the car.

"It's perfect," you assured him, it was cozy and private, and the view was spectacular.

The two of you walked inside, and took in the surroundings. It was a large cabin, with a beautiful stone fireplace and a big open kitchen. Elijah started the fire as you cooked dinner, the two of you fully in sync.

It was easy having him as a partner, and you felt relaxed and at home. The only thing missing from your lives was sex. Once Henry arrived it was a constant state of exhaustion and there wasn't much room for romance.

You thought back to the night Henry was conceived, and how passionate and hot the experience was. But you were nervous to do it again, the pregnancy had changed your body, and you weren't sure how he would react.

After dinner you cuddled up with him on the couch, his arm around your shoulder and your head resting on his chest. He kissed the top of your head and smiled.

"I've missed this," he said softly, playing with a loose strand of your hair.

"Me too," you admitted, running your hand up and down his arm.

He took a deep breath, and you could tell he was nervous about something.

"Is everything okay?" You asked, turning to look at him.

"Yes," he nodded, his brown eyes meeting yours, "I just...want you to know that I am completely in love with you, and I will do anything to make you happy,"

You blushed, and looked away, not sure what to say.

"And I know our relationship has been a bit unconventional," he continued, his voice low, "but I would like to court you, if you will allow me,"

"Court me?" You chuckled, "darling, I think you are doing this all backwards,"

"Perhaps," he laughed, taking your hand in his, "I couldn't ask for a better mother for my child, and a more devoted companion,"

You smiled, and leaned in, kissing him, and the spark was still there. He kissed back, cupping your face with his hands and pulling you onto his lap. His hands roamed your body and your breath hitched when he ran them up your thighs.

"Is this okay?" He asked, stopping, and looking up at you.

You nodded, and pressed your lips against his, wrapping your arms around his neck and grinding against him. He groaned and gripped your hips, guiding them to move with his.

You could feel his growing erection, and the friction against your core made you moan. You had missed this, and could hardly believe you had waited so long.

He picked you up and carried you to the bedroom, laying you down and crawling on top of you, his lips never leaving yours.

You ran your fingers through his hair, and his hands traveled up your shirt, caressing your skin and cupping your breast.

You felt a bit self-conscious, your body was different now, and he hadn't seen it. You didn't want him to be disappointed, but you knew he wouldn't judge you.

"Darling, are you alright?" He asked, pulling away, "we can stop,"

"No," you shook your head, and sat up, "it's just, I'm a little nervous,"

"About?" He asked, furrowing his brows.

"My body," you admitted, "it's different now, and I know it's stupid, but I'm worried,"

He gave you a knowing look, and pulled your dress up over your head. You body was different, your breasts fuller, your hips wider, stretch marks across your belly and thighs.

"These scars are nothing to be ashamed of," he began, kissing the stretch marks across your stomach, "they show your strength and the fact that you brought a beautiful and healthy baby into the world,"

"Elijah," you blushed, not used to hearing him speak so openly about your body.

"These breasts, they have nourished our son. These hips, they carried and protected him," he continued, his hands on your body, caressing every inch.

"I have no words for how beautiful you are," he concluded, his eyes full of lust, "may I continue?"

You nodded, and he pulled his shirt off, exposing his chiseled torso. You ran your hands over his shoulders, tracing his muscles, and down his chest.

He trailed his lips up to your breasts, gently kissing them and sucking your nipples. He was gentle and slow, and it felt incredible. They were extra sensitive from breastfeeding, and his touch sent a shock straight to your core.

He slowly removed your underwear, his eyes raking over your naked body. He kissed every inch of your skin, loving every part of you.

His lips traveled down your belly, and settled between your legs. His tongue moved expertly against your clit, and you gasped, grabbing the sheets.

He hummed contently, missing the taste of you, and wanting to please you. His hands held your thighs, and his tongue teased and swirled.

You moaned and arched your back, it had been so long and you were so close already. He knew just how to get you there, and it only took a few minutes for him to bring you over the edge.

He didn't stop, and continued, sucking and licking, bringing you to orgasm again and again. Your head was spinning, and you could hardly breath, but it felt amazing.

Finally he stopped, and kissed his way up your body, until his lips met yours.

"You deserve a reward for being such a perfect mother," he smiled, his voice full of pride.

You smiled, and kissed him again, running your hands down his chest and stopping at his waistband.

"Now I think it's your turn," you whispered, unbuttoning his pants.

He smiled and watched your face as you underdressed him. His cock sprung free, and you stroked it, running your hand up and down the shaft. Looking into his eyes as he kneeled over you, his eyes heavy and filled with lust.

"It's been so long, I missed your touch," he growled, his voice husky.

"I've missed this too," you replied, stroking him and running your thumb over the tip.

He kissed you slowly and deeply, moaning as your hands worked him. His tongue explored your mouth, and you felt him twitch and throb in your hands.

"Hold on," he said softly, moving away from you.

He got up and rummaged around his bag, coming back with a condom.

"I've never used one of these before," he said sheepishly, and it was the most adorable thing.

You laughed and sat up, taking the foil packet and opening it, rolling it over his cock and kissing him.

"Now, where were we?" You smirked, laying back down.

He crawled back on top of you, lining his cock up with your entrance. He was still gentle, but you were ready for him, and the two of you were eager.

He pushed in, and it felt like the first time, hot and tight. He took his time, pushing in a bit at a time and allowing you to adjust.

Once he was fully inside, he waited a moment, kissing you, and savoring the feeling of being joined with you.

You moved your hips, signaling him to move, and he complied, thrusting slowly and deeply.

The two of you rocked back and forth, the soft sound of skin against skin filling the air. He moved with the perfect rhythm, hitting the right spot with every thrust.

His mouth was on your neck, leaving love bites, and his hands were on your hips, gripping tightly.

"I love you," he groaned, his voice strained.

"I love you too," you moaned, feeling yourself getting close.

You never wanted this to end, a part of you longing for even more than what you already had. You looked into his eyes, feeling the way his body connected with yours so perfectly.

Your orgasm rushed over you, and you squeezed him so hard he pulled out for moment, his cock resting on your stomach. He looked down at you, your pupils blown with love and lust.

"Do you want to make a sibling for Henry?" You said softly, toying gently with the tip of the condom, searching his eyes for an answer.

"Is that something you want?" He asked, looking down at you with pure love.

"Yes," you nodded, "I want another baby, I want a whole family with you,"

He kissed you in response, then smiled down at you, his eyes shining with happiness.

"I will give you anything you want," he whispered.

You pulled the condom off slowly, both of you panting heavily. He looked down, watching as your hands wrapped around his bare cock, pumping up and down, spreading the precum over the head.

You lined him back up, and he pushed back in, his breath catching as he eased his way into your warm and wet heat.

You could feel him throbbing inside of you, his length twitching and swelling as he got closer. He moaned, and rested his forehead against yours, his eyes shut tight.

"I want you to cum inside me," you whispered, knowing he was close.

You could feel yourself getting close, and his breath was labored, his hips grinding against yours, your wetness coating him.

His hips snapped, and his hands gripped the sheets, and with one final thrust he came, filling you up and pushing you over the edge.

He kissed you as he came down, his cock still pulsing as he softened inside of you. He hummed happily, keeping you connected as he rolled you on your side.

You curled up against him, and kissed him, and he pressed his hand gently against your stomach, imagining a tiny being forming inside.

"I always wanted a family of my own," he said softly, nuzzling into you, "thank you for giving me that,"

You squeezed him tighter, understanding the weight of his words. He had given you everything, love, devotion, a family. It was everything you ever wanted. He had helped you become the happiest and the best version of yourself and you did the same for him.

The two of you laid there, cuddled up against each other, safe and content. Tomorrow would bring a new adventure, but right now everything was perfect.

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vampiresluv ♡ @vamprium ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡ @loving-and-dreaming ♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog

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strawbellyx3 · 3 months

Text

Some thoughts on JinMao in The Apothecary Diaries LN (spoilers)

I love how Maomao's love for Jinshi is written in the Light Novel. She's an unreliable narrator and can't put a name on what she feels for a long time and heck, for the most time she doesn't even want to. The beginning of volume 6 showing this perfectly when she didn't want to leave Jinshi's hair stick behind, carried it with her and when she slept, she kept it near her chest because she didn't want to have it anywhere where she could see it. The symbolism *chef kiss* (she doesn't want to face her feelings but also still carries them close to her chest)

She purposely chooses to avoid thinking about any potential feelings for Jinshi and at the end of the same volume it's also stated that she does have some kind of affection for him that she can't yet put into words.

For readers, it's easy to view Maomao's avoidant attitude as disinterest. Even more so paired with how she doesn't seem to ever be nervous around Jinshi. But really, we don't need blushy nervous Maomao to understand what she's feeling. Her feelings come to show everytime she worries about Jinshi's well being and goes out of her way to get him to eat and rest, takes time of her own day to make sure that he's well.

When at the beginning, she always considered him bringing all these tasks to her as bothersome. Maomao just wanted to experiment with poison and make medicine, she didn't want to spend time on anything else, really.

Then, in volume 9 she's even willing to give up her agency if it meant helping ease his burdens.

Maomao, miss "I don't want to have anything to do with this, this is bothersome" tells him to use all of her. Use her until she falls apart. (while kabedoning him, love Maomao being an absolute girlboss even when she tells him to use her)

She's worried by his selflessness. How he's unable to use other people to reach his goals and shoulders everything on his own, wanting to save everyone. Maomao gets upset by it and worries he'd never get anything in return and become as luckless in life as her adoptive father. Who carries the same selflessness and kindness.

I don't think we talk enough about how much it means for Maomao to get to a point where she would rather get used by Jinshi than to see him exhaust himself.

This whole scene afterwards is just..generally really heartwarming honestly.

(Volume 9 Chapter 20)

Her hands went to Jinshi’s cheek. “You’re only human, Master Jinshi. You’re not some mythical immortal who can save everyone.” She held his face in her hands, the fingers of her left hand brushing his scar. “You can be wounded, scarred, brought low. Only human.”

Who was she talking to? She knew Jinshi was standing in front of her, but for some reason she kept seeing Luomen’s face.

No wonder I’m so upset. The principle that drove Jinshi’s behavior seemed very similar to Luomen’s. She was afraid that if he went on like this, he would end up just as luckless in life as her old man. Just like Pops... He’d spent himself trying to rescue everyone and everything. Like a fool. He should have wanted more, been greedier, but instead he’d suffered his fate patiently. Suffered and suffered, and for what? To become an old man resigned to his empty hands. This was, it was fair to say, Maomao’s one criticism of her father. She’d felt it keenly in the affair with the Shaonese shrine maiden. She respected Luomen immensely. A man who never lost his kindness no matter what unhappiness he encountered was like a miracle. The price, though, was that his body and his heart were both battered. In time he became so that everything he did, he did in the expectation of defeat. Would Jinshi end up like him one day? Or— “Please, please don’t go doing anything else like burning a brand into your skin,” Maomao said. “I heard you...the first several times,” Jinshi replied. “Are you sure?” A smile flitted across Maomao’s face, and she slowly pulled her hands away.

#they mean a lot to me #no one gets them the way i do /hj #jinmao #kusuriya no hitorigoto #the apothecary diaries #maomao #jinshi #light novel

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dreamerschroniclesofstories · 4 months

Note

Hiii love 🩷

Could you please make a reader X Tommy, where you take care of Charlie and he slowly falls in love with the reader. At first he denies it but after sometime he can’t take it anymore !! Fluff and happy ending please

Love your writing by the way ⭐️🩷

Hey Lovelie! Thank you so much for this request and the lovely comment , I’d gladly do this for you!

Italics: flashback.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO REPOST THIS ANYWAY ELSE OR TRANSLATION OF THIS FIC.

Summery: request above

[Y/N]: Your name

[L/N]: Last name.

Word count: 2,516

Thomas Shelby. The name of the man that you have loved for the past two years. The man you knew would change your life the moment you set foot into his office for an interview to be a live in maid for his young son, charlie.

The blood pumped through your veins, making your head feel like it would burst at any point. You sent an application to Thomas Shelby secretary for the job but you did not expect to get an answer. So when you got a reply asking for an interview less then three days later, the shock that you were in was explainable.

You knock on the door, waiting to hear the voice of the man you were secretly afraid of.

“ come in” the voice vibrates through the atmosphere

You turn the old doorknob then push the door open, gliding your body through the door. The sound of the door creaking made Tommy lift his head up from his paperwork.

The feeling of your world stops as you make eye contact for the first time with the man with the eyes that could kill.

One month into the job

Thomas smiles slightly and takes off his jacket just as Francis rushes over to him.

“Good evening mr Shelby, dinner should be served soon” the middle aged woman explained, taking Thomas jacket gently.

Thomas doesn’t say a word, taking a cigarette out of his pouch from his trouser pocket. He looks towards Francis, lighting the cigarette.

“Where’s my son?” He questioned curiously.

Before tommys maid could respond, Charlie rushes around the corner from the main room “ daddy” he squeals, running towards Tommy.

Thomas kneels down “ Charlie, my boy” he catches Charlie as he jumps into his arms, Thomas stands up with Charlie in his arms.

Soon after, [Y/N] rushes around the corner with a face that can only be described as anxious. Her face was shiny most likely from running after the young boy.

“I am so sorry mr Shelby, i tried to stop him. I know you don’t like to be disrupted after work. I promise, I’ll make sure it won’t happen tomorrow” she rambles, clearly nervous that Thomas would be mad.

“No need to apologise, make sure that he is calm before he goes to bed, don’t want him to be cranky tomorrow” Thomas smirks slightly and gives Charlie over to [Y/N].

She nodded and quickly walks away, Charlie on his hip. Unknowingly, to [Y/N] mr Shelby was watching her with curiosity plaguing his mind.

Three months into the job.

Charlie had gone missing. Someone had taken him when Tommy was distracted with the guests, during a work event, he hadn’t noticed his young son being carried out through the door by a woman that passed as a maid.

Three hours had passed since [Y/N] had seen the young boy, she was nervously pacing the house, biting her already broken and fragile nails. An anxious trait she’s had since she was a young girl.

The sound of the front door rattling invaded the already chaotic atmosphere of the manor. The banging of doors signalled that Tommy was in his “beast mode”. This is when Tommy is on a mission and if you get in his way, you’ll most likely land with a bullet between your eyes. However, that hadn’t stopped The young maid. [Y/N] opened the door of Charlie’s room and begins to rush her sore feet towards the grand stairs.

“ mr Shelby” she calls out “ oh mr Shelby, is young Charlie been found” she asks, her voice full of worry.

[Y/N] stops her running when she sees the distressed young boy in his father’s arms, nearly making herself fall from the suddenness of the movement.

“ Francis take Charles” Thomas orders sternly, passing him over to his only trusted maid from that moment on.

The older maid nods and takes Charlie, taking the toddler upstairs. The air is so brittle, from the tension, it could snap. If it doesn’t, [Y/N] might. No one speaks, what is there to say?. [Y/N] could feel the fear in her chest waiting to take over her. Perhaps it was only there to protect her but there really isn’t any danger to be protected from. It sits there like an angry ball, propelling [Y/N] towards an anxiety she doesn’t need.

“ where were you miss [L/N]” Tommy questions, accusation filling his voice. His eyes could kill anyone. Those eyes are ocean-strong, swimming with warm sun-lit currents.

[Y/N] gulps, her throat feeling as if it was closing in on it self. Her mouth parts slightly but no words come out. Eventually, words were able to escape.

“ I’m so sorry mr Shelby, I looked away from him for one second, he wanted me to get his toy horse that he dropped, I gave him to another woman, she was dressed in a maids uniform” she explains, her eyes filling with unreleased tears.

Tommy sighs, watching as the young maid clearly showing signs of distress.

“ go back to work” the older man states, passing Charlie back over to [Y/N].

The young maid immediately takes Charlie into her arms, using one of her hands to wipe under her eyes “ of course mr Shelby” she nods.

As [Y/N] walks away, Tommy speaks up again “ have you had dinner miss [L/N]”.

“ no I have not mr.Shelby” [Y/N] replies, turning back around by the stairs, Charlie playing with her short hair.

Tommy nods “ after you put Charlie to bed, come to the kitchen, there will be food there for you” the older man announces, walking down the corridor towards the door leading to the kitchen.

As the months pass, Tommy and [Y/N] work relationship shifted, everybody can see it has except for the pair in question.

However, Tommy wouldn’t admit it. He still feels like he is in love with his deceased wife grace, he can’t get himself to move on. On the other hand, [Y/N] knew of her feelings towards her boss, who wouldn’t? Especially when you boss looks like Thomas fucking Shelby.

Present day

Over the past years that [Y/N] has worked for Tommy, she had gotten close to the women of the Shelby family, mainly polly. When [Y/N] wasn’t working, she was with polly.

Today was one of those days. Today, [Y/N] was helping polly with the books at the Shelby company betting shop. Tommy had given her the next few days off since she had worked for two weeks straight since Charlie was poorly with a fever.

“ fucking men” Polly grumbles, slamming down the book full of incorrect numbers and calculations.

[Y/N] chuckles from across the room as she corrects Arthur’s calculations “ men never cease to amaze you, do they pol?” She raises an eyebrow.

Polly lights her cigarette, taking a long inhale of the hazardous smoke “we are working our asses off whilst the men sit on theirs at the pub, getting god knows how drunk” the middled aged women rants, pointing to the door.

Polly smirks as she stands up “ come on, let’s go” Polly encourages, grabbing her purse.

[Y/N] frowns, dropping her pencil “ where are you going lol?” She asks confused but her eyes full of wonder at what Polly was planning.

“ I know a woman who knows a woman, she told me that the ladies of small heath are going out on strike, by the factories” Polly places her deep red hat on her curly brown hair as she raises an eyebrow at [Y/N].

The younger woman laughs “ you can’t be serious pol, Tommy would have your head” she warns.

“ not if he won’t find me” Polly puts her coat on.

[Y/N] bites her lip, she was conflicted. Her brain turns and twists as she argues with herself internally but eventually, only one side of her could win.

[Y/N] nods “ fuck em” she stands up “ I worked two weeks with his sick child and nothing but a thanks and a few days off work” [Y/N] rants, grabbing her coat.

Polly watches “ that’s my girl”.

Once the two woman get their stuff together, they walk out of the betting shop, Polly placing her sunglasses on her face, the women ignoring the men outside of the betting shop.

[Y/N] chuckles as she links her arm with pollys as they walk together towards the factories to join the woman of small heath.

The garrison pub

The Shelby men sat inside of their private corner room, celebrating Arthur’s recent news of Linda’s pregnancy. What they didn’t expect was another member of the blinders to come in and announce the women’s strike.

Tommy was about to make a speech when the door opens. A young man taking off his cap quickly catches his breath.

“ I’m sorry to disturb you mr Shelby, but I’ve just got word that mrs gray and miss [L/N} have walked out of the shop, claiming that they are striking for women’s rights in the work place” he explains.

Tommy raises an eyebrow, Arthur immediately standing up “ they what?” His drunken voice ripples through the small private room and into the main area of the pub.

Tommy holds his hand out to his brother “ now brother, this will be sorted” he stands up and grabs his cap, immediately following the younger member out of the pub, and towards where his aunt and his maid were currently causing chaos.

The Factories

The sound of the women cheering and chanting blocked the ability for [Y/N] ears to identity the sound of Tommy’s feet but as soon as his hand wrapped its self around her arm, she knew who it was and she knew she was in deep trouble.

Tommy’s breath sends goosebumps down her back as he leans down to speak into her ear “ come with me. Now” his voice quiet but clearly filled with demand.

[Y/N] didn’t say anything, her feet moving themselves in the direction that Tommy was guiding her. As they get further and further away from the other women, the noise of the chaos was slowly fading out.

“ Tommy, tommy please listen” [Y/N] began to protest but Tommy quickly cuts in.

“ what were you thinking [Y/N]. Do you know what this can do to the company” he states, letting go of her arm.

“ it’s not that serious tommy, me and pol weren’t protesting we were just watching” [Y/N] defends herself.

Tommy was about to respond when the sound of the police invading the strike, and women screaming as they get arrested. [Y/N] gasps as she gets shoved onto the floor, the wet gravel of small heaths pavements make contact with her hands. Small but painful cuts develop on her palms.

“ watch it” tommy yells at the woman that shoved [Y/N], clearly trying to run from the police.

“ I’m okay” [Y/N] reassures Tommy as she gently grabs his hand and stands up, Tommy patting down her dress since it had got mudded by the mud puddle on the path.

“ let’s go” Tommy grabs her hand and begins to pace to the garrison, away from the chaos. [Y/N]’s cheeks rise in temperature when she realises that tommys warm hand had engulfed her own. This is the kind of blushing that shows her soul, a compliment to the eyes and having a delicate sweetness within. It shows a connection, it shows that the smile and shyness comes from deep emotions. Her blush is beautiful and something real.

The garrison pub.

The pub was quiet, the occasionally laugh or the occasional cough fills the deadly silence since the moment Tommy stormed out of the pub to find [Y/N].

Tommy guides [Y/N] towards the small corner room, his hand hovering on the small of her back, however the heat still penetrates through her dress and onto her skin.

[Y/N] smiles as she walks into the room, taking her coat off slowly “ thank you Tommy” she graciously sits on one of the seats, placing her purse onto the table.

Tommy watches her as he sits at his usual seat, once again taking a cigarette from his metal holder “ would you like a drink?” He asks gruffly.

“ no thank you, I don’t drink” [Y/N] admits.

Thomas raises an eyebrow “ don’t drink ey, what maid of mine doesn’t drink” he teases.

“ the maid that looks after your infant son” she jokes back.

Thomas lights the cigarette “ my son likes you miss [L/N]” he admits, raising an eyebrow.

[Y/N] smiles, looking down at her dress skirt for a few seconds before looking up towards Tommy. She had the kind of eyes that reach out to Tommy, much like a baby reaching out with open arms, clearly signaling what she wants.

“ do you have a husband miss [L/N]” Tommy takes a long inhale of the hazardous smoke for what seems like the hundredth time that day.

“ please, call me [Y/N], and no I don’t have a husband nor a partner” she admits, her bottom lip sucking in between her teeth every so slowly. Tommy immediately looking down at the movement. Her lips were as good as her eyes in painting a picture of her emotion.

“ come here” Tommy whispers, placing the cigarette into the ash tray, just in time for [ Y/N] to arrive infront of Tommy.

The older man, places his hands onto her hips gently,his thumbs rubbing her in a rhythm, the smoke from the cigarette slowly evaporating between the two.

[Y/N] places her hands onto tommys shoulders “ this is inappropriate Tommy” she whispers, her voice as delicate as silk.

“ everything in my life is inappropriate” tommy points out, gently pulling [Y/N} into his lap, their eyes making close contact for the first time.

They both saw fire within each others eyes, she moved so close Tommy could feel her lips gliding over his own “ one time” she whispers “ one time is alright” she tries to reassure herself.

As soon as those four words left her mouth, Tommy connects their lips, in this kiss there was a sweetness of passion, a million loving thoughts condensed into a moment. [Y/N]’s heart skips a beat, as their lips glide together, making their own secret music. This kiss dissolves and releases any doubt within [Y/N]’s mind.

Tommys mouth parts ever so slightly, his tongue teasing then parting her own lips, wanting to savour her sweetness. A soft moan escapes her as she tastes Tommy in return.

Feeling as though she was burning in overwhelming passion, [Y/N] ripped her mouth away. Both gasping for air. Tommy presses his forehead against hers as [Y/N] runs her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck.

After a few minutes, Tommy lifts his head, placing his hand on her cheek. A slient communication passes through them. They both knew love was their sun, night and day.

They knew they were each others saviours.

A/N: hey again!

So sorry this took so long, my life has been extremely hectic but I’ve finished it and I hope you like it.

Please leave, a like, comment, reblog. All is appreciated so much! ❤️

#peaky blinders fanfic #tommy shelby imagines #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders masterlist #tommy shelby fanfic #peaky blinders fandom #peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby #thomas shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby fluff #thomas shelby fluff #tommy shelby x reader

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babygirl-riley · 4 months

Text

Small Traditions

Simon starts to notice the small signs that his mother would do when he was young to what he now does with his girls

A/N: GUYS naturally I had to use @ave661 art cause listen ovaries HURT anytime she posts the dad!simon series 😭

“That she's gettin' older and I wish that you'd met her. The things that she'll learn from me, I got them all from you.”

Warnings: angst, fluff, dad!simon, mentions of childhood trauma, missing mom hours, swearing

Taglist

simon x reader guide

simon x reader family

Simon was finally able to actually spend time with his baby girl. He was gone for a while, 3 months to be exact. Which made his baby 6 months old, he missed out on appointments and her first roll over on her tummy. So when he came home, he made it a mission to spend anytime and every time with her.

When she woke up early in the morning he turned to you, feeling you getting up. “No love stay asleep, ‘ll get the little one.” He mumbled, waking up a bit.

You hummed and laid back down immediately passing back out. Simon put on a black shirt as he adjusted his sweats as well. He made his way to his babygirl’s room. She was standing up holding onto the rail of her crib. Her smile beaming as she giggled, jumping up and down.

“Ah isn’t the little rascal,” Simon smiled chuckling lightly. She reached up for him as he picked her up. She placed his head on his shoulder and gripped his shirt. “I’m happy to see ya too princess.”

Simon changed her diaper and started to make his way into the kitchen. His daughter cooed as he held her close. She would play with his shirt or put it in her mouth. “See ya starting’ to teethin’.” He said softly, letting her suck the shirt.

After making the bottle he went into the living room to put on the tv. He set her on the couch with him on the edge, she was old enough to hold the bottle herself so he just watched. Her hands gripping her bottle as she chugged the milk down.

Simon chuckled now sitting on his calfs. “Damn little one, ya that hungry?”

He never knew if she was listening or even understanding by how her eyes would just stare blankly. As he stared at her, he noticed the small things. The features that would bring his heart to swell but also break a bit. The dimples that she had were in the same spot that his mother had.

Simon picked her little feet up and played with them as he thought. His mother would be proud of where he is at. The family he created after all the pain he went through. Never would have thought to be a father, after what he saw with his father. He was afraid to become him. To be him. Yet here he was, with a baby girl.

“Grandma would have loved ya,” He mumbled kissing her little socked feet. She sighed as she fought back a laugh, she was very ticklish on her feet. Just like Tommy, as kids Simon used to piss him off by tickling his feet. Simon inhaled deeply before shaking his head. He didn’t need to get emotional, there was no need. However just the way his daughter had some of the features conjured them. “Would love the way you look so much like me, have some similarities from her, hell Uncle Tommy would make fun of actually settling down.” He chuckled to himself.

He never thought even before the tragedy of his family that he would settle down. Family was plagued by his father. His childhood made Simon not want to give his own children one solely on fear of course. Yet here he is. Half of him and half of you. He would never trade it for the world.

Simon has even noticed the things he would do that his mother would do before his father was shunned away from the family. The way she would hum particular child songs to calm both him and his brother down. How when dad wasn’t home, she would whip up a random treat, particularly peanut butter bars. In which, your child has become addicted to them. Or when putting him to bed she would say ‘never forget, you’re smart, you’re handsome, and you’re loved.’ Instead his babygirl would be replacing handsome with beautiful.

Simon would only do it when you weren’t around, whispering it softly. Even though he doesn’t know you usually are around the corner, listening to him, with tears. Simon noticed these things as time grew on with his daughter. It didn’t hit him until now. Thinking of all the things that his mom would do with her grand baby. The family dinners. The babysitting. The holidays. All of it.

Simon noticed that tears were at the edge of his eyes. He shook his head and coughed then grabbed her little feet and softly ran his thumb from her heel to her tiny toes. “Ya made me soft ya brat.” He tickled her foot as she let out a laugh kicking his hands away.

Years gone past and now he has three of them. He stood in the kitchen as he placed lunches in certain boxes. You needed help as you did hair and gathered their school things. Simon never could do hair hell not even his youngest’s hair and she was 1. “Dad! I can’t find my shoes!” Millie yelled as she ran down the stairs.

Simon sighed and smirked. “Well since you didn’ put them away, I threw them in the trash.”

Millie stopped in her tracks and had the same smirk that was on his face on hers. “Uh huh, really though please.”

Simon smiled and nodded. “‘ight ‘light, they’re in the closet with the coats,” She shook her head and went towards the door. Simon placed the last thing in the last box. “Start puttin’ them in ya room yeah?”

Millie nodded and looked at him. “Aye,” She walked up to him and lifted her finger. “Love ya see you after?”

Simon looked down at her finger, his mom would tap his finger, going once up and they would switch sides and tap again. It was their way of saying bye and love you when dad had his beer and game review on. Simon smiled and tapped her finger as they flipped them over to do it again. “I’ll be pickin’ ya both up.”

“Daddy! Daddy,” His head snapped up to see his second daughter soaring down the stairs. “Look what mum did!” Her hair was in to braids that linked into one large one. A smile beaming on her face. Showing one of the dimples his mother once had.

Simon chuckled grabbing a small piece of it before placing his thumb on her cheek. “Looks beautiful Alli,” He said softly then kissed her on her forehead. Simon looked up the stairs and saw you smiling down, holding the newborn. “Ya takin’ them?”

You nodded as you walked down the stairs. “Yes I have to grab more things from the store.”

Simon and you already talked about the store and her taking Millie and Allison to school. Simon pushed and pushed to only get pushed back, eventually compromises came and he staying to give you a break from the 2 month old. Then he could pick up the girls after school. You handed Tessa over to Simon. “Already changed just needs to be held. Needy this morning.” You whispered kissing Simon softly on the lips.

“Roger,” He mumbled as he kissed her one more time hearing Allison fake gag. Simon chuckled as he turned handing you the boxes. “Packed and ready.”

“Thank you,” You smiled, grabbing them, and ushering the older two out the door. “I’ll be back!”

“Bye dad!” Millie yelled walking out first.

“Bye daddy!” Allison followed suite turning to sign ‘I love you’ with one hand.

Simon did it back cradling Tessa between his chest and bicep. You smiled at him, kiss towards him. He smiled as the door shut. Tessa wiggled and started to whine. “Shh shh,” He whispered looking down at her. “It’s ‘light we can go down stairs and watch somethin’ yeah?”

Later that day Millie and Allison opened their lunch boxes that day and found a small sugary snack with a note attached reading; ‘what do you call an angry carrot… A steamed veggie.’ They always loved it, having notes from dad that had terrible jokes even if Millie would roll her eyes and smirk. She loves them.

You didn’t know about it until the next day. You were check boxing everything that was needed to grab as Simon helped with Tessa. When you opened it you saw the note, chuckling to yourself. Millie stood next to you and looked at you. “Dad says that Grandma Riley would leave jokes for him and Tommy.”

You looked over at her and up to the stairs, making sure he wasn’t coming yet. “Oh really?”

“Yeah,” Millie smiled. “I always read ‘em to my friends. Just don’t tell him. His head will inflate more.” She joked grabbing her box.

You smiled as you watched Simon come down the stairs in his uniform. “I shouldn’ be long,” he mumbled having his balaclava in his pocket. Millie frowned as did Allison. “I told Uncle Price I’ll be late to take you two.” He smiled at them as their faces calmed into a soft content expression.

Simon handed Tessa to you and kissed your cheek. “I’ll be home no later than 8.” You nodded and watched them go out the door.

Simon opened the door for both Millie and Allison to get in as they went down the street. “Was Grandma Riley fun?” Millie asked nonchalantly as she looked out the window.

Simon could feel his throat hitch from the sudden question. “Yes.”

“Do you do things like she did to us?”

Simon looked in the rear view mirror for a brief moment. Only if she knew, all the things his mother taught him has been passed down to his girls. After his father was kicked out for good his mother was more open about good parenting, she always was of course. However there wasn’t any hidden signs or anything of the sort. Even when he was older, when confrontation came around, she was kind and gentle. Since both him and his brother didn’t know how to handle or deal with situations as so.

Simon taught his girls to be polite and kind to everyone. Just like his mother was. Everything she did that he remembered he wanted to pass along. Simon inhaled for a moment. “Ya know the finger taps,” Both her and Allison nodded their heads. “That came from grandma. It was our sign to say love you and bye.”

Allison smiled. “Did she do the night routine?”

Simon smiled. “Yes.”

It was silent again before Millie shifted a bit. “Grandma Riley sounded cool.”

Simon smiled again and nodded. “She would have loved all of ya.”

It was good silent as he stopped in front of the school, as kids packed to go inside. Allison opened the door and turned with her finger out. Simon and her did the signature finger taps as she hopped out. He waited until she caught up with friends that were right outside the car. Then he went to Millie’s school.

“What happened to them?” Millie asked, Simon knew that eventually the girls would put two and two. Uncle Tommy and Grandma Riley not around, yet dad talks highly of them? It would make a tween curious.

Simon took a second to think of the answer. He never told you until 3 years of your guys’ relationship. Millie was too young to know but he couldn’t lie to her either. “Someday I will tell you.” Was all he could say to it.

Millie nodded and chuckled. “Was she terrible at the jokes like you?”

Simon laughed a bit. “Terrible? My jokes are amazin’!”

Millie rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Yeah yeah.” Simon pulled up in front of the school and he turned to her. She unbuckled and lifted her finger, smiling. “Glad you keeping’ traditions dad. Grandma would be happy.”

Simon felt his chest tighten as he smiled it off. Doing the taps. “She would be happy indeed,” He nodded his head to the school. “Get goin’ ya love the joke today by the way.”

Millie laughed as she opened the door and shook her head once more. “Yeah maybe.”

Simon watched until she got into the school and drove to the base. “You would have loved ‘em mum.” He mumbled to himself as he kept the tears at bay.

Even through all the hardships, he will be forever grateful for his mother and her teachings. He hopes that one day that she will meet his family, the family that he knows she would have loved. To see how much as changed in Simon that he thought that could never happen. So she could see that not only her that showed him unconditional love even through the darkest parts but how his girls have showed him as well.

Simon sighed as he relaxed. Yeah, she would have loved them all.

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hedwig221b · 1 year

Text

“Where is he?” Stiles rumbled, glancing at each member of the pack in front of him, before settling his incinerating gaze on one person he once considered a brother. “Tell me, Scott, where is my husband?”

Stiles knew the moment it happened that something was terribly wrong. It was the middle of the night when he was woken up by a scorching hot fire, running up his entire body. It took him a full minute of panicked breathing to realize it wasn’t a nightmare, but the pain of his mate he felt through their bond. It stopped rather abruptly, but that did little to calm him.

He didn’t feel Derek. On the other end of the bond, blessedly still existing, there was no usual warmth and steady presence. There was nothing but agonizing emptiness.

Stiles knew, he felt that it was wrong to let Derek pick up their son from Beacon Hills alone. Eli whined all week that he missed his grandpa and Derek, who couldn’t for his life say ‘no’ to their son, volunteered to drive him over for a mini-vacation.

Stiles should have listened to his gut, tell his boss to fuck off and go with them.

It took one wave of a shaking hand to open the portal. He didn’t care about the magic exhaustion. He wanted his husband.

To say that BH residents were shocked to see the empty space in front of them tearing apart in a strobe of lightning…

“I couldn’t do anything,” Scott shook his head, looking up at him remorsefully. Stiles learnt long ago not to believe him.

“Papa!”

Eli.

Stiles raced to his son, who was sitting on the cold ground, reaching with both of his hands towards him. His entire face was red and wet from tears, though his eyes shined beautiful gold.

“Oh, pup,” he murmured, taking Eli into his arms. The boy put his forehead on his shoulder and sniffed silent tears. It was obvious he was in too much of a shock to tell anything — Eli clutched at his father’s back, digging into the skin with the claws, but Stiles paid them no mind.

As Stiles shushed his pup, scratching the back of his head, he looked up at Scott with murder in his eyes.

“Where is he?”

“Nogitsune,” Stiles’ father rasped. He looked almost as awful as his grandson.

“He sacrificed himself,” Scott interrupted him, clenching his jaw. “For the greater good. For the pa—“

Stiles shut him up with a growl he learnt from his husband.

“We have our own pack!”

“He helped kill the nogitsune,” Scott insisted, stepping closer, but then immediately flinching backwards at Stiles’ glare. “He died as a hero.”

Eli’s anxious and terrified breathing grew heavier.

“Shh,” Stiles muttered in his messy hair. “He didn’t die, pup, it’s alright.”

He didn’t know what the fuck happened that brought the fucking thing back, but apparently it had something to do with Derek’s disappearance.

Oh, he would never allow them to take another step in this forsaken place anymore.

“Nogitsune can’t be killed,” he grit out, taking Eli’s hands from him and standing up. “Dad, look after him. Take him to your house, make a mountain ash circle — he’s not in control yet.”

“Stiles…”

“Our bond is alive,” Stiles shouted, making everyone shut up again. “I don’t see a body, and I bet you didn’t scream, either,” he thrust an accusatory finger at the banshee, who just looked away in shame. “If I’m not back in an hour, call Kira.”

---

“Papa?”

“Yes, pup?”

Eli stomped in one place near the bedroom door, glancing nervously at Stiles. He was afraid to look at his dad’s scarred face.

“Is he gonna live?”

Stiles looked up from his husband’s burnt red skin on his torso, but didn’t stop moving his glowing golden-white hands in an intricate pattern of healing magic. Derek already looked better than fifteen minutes ago. By the morning, Derek wouldn’t feel an ounce of pain and all his scars will be gone.

“Of course,” he smiled tiredly. “You know dad’s a tough cookie.”

Eli shuffled towards the bed and fell on his knees in front of it, putting his chin on the bed. He leaned on his side, putting half of his weight on Stiles’ legs. His big eyes didn’t leave his dad’s still body.

Stiles wanted to hug his little boy so much, but it will have to wait. For now he just nudged Eli with his toes, making him look up at him.

“I’m proud of you, Eli,” he said quietly. Eli squeezed his eyes shut and put his temple against Stiles’ knee, breathing harshly. “You shifted. That’s amazing.”

“Lot of good it did,” Eli muttered. “If I was faster…”

“Nuh-uh, the guilt wagon is stopping right now,” Stiles shook his head. “Dad wouldn’t have risked taking you with him back to that inside-out place. None of this is your fault, kiddo.”

Eli sniffed.

Suddenly, Derek grunted something under his breath. All attention instantly zeroed on the wolf, both his mate and his son waiting with bated breath for another sign of consciousness. One of Derek’s hands, lying closest to the edge, moved bit by bit, until it reached Stiles’ knee.

Eli sniffed once again, then carefully took his dad’s hand, mindful of still healing burns, and put it on Stiles’ knee, then laid his head on top. Clever pup, letting his Alpha know his pack was here.

“Eli,” Derek breathed out, his eyelids fluttering.

“Shh,” Stiles shushed immediately, lightly caressing his cheek with his glowing hand. “He’s alright.”

“Stiles.”

“I’m here, love. You’re safe.”

Derek relaxed once again, falling into much needed sleep.

“See,” Stiles said with a relieved smile, looking down at Eli, who finally had some hope in his puppy eyes and a wobbly smile on his lips. “Everything’s gonna be alright.”

ao3

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phas3d · 3 months

Note

helllooooo lovelyyy i really really love your works and i just want to request if it's okay with a reaction possible angst if you do it.

scenario alongside the war, where slytherin boys fighting alongside the death eaters and reader is on the order of the phoenix but another person that is reader's team is having a battle with the boys and reader's team where about to cast one of the unforgivable curse (worse could be the killing curse of course) to one of the boys and readers just jumped out and shielded of the boys which cause them taking the curse, and how would they react to that angst stuff, would they be furious, devastated, angry, pull out the curse as well to reader's team?? idk it's up to youu <3

i'm really a terrible person and i'm really enjoying being hurt as well.

Dying for Them || Slytherin Boys

type :: angst

tw/cw :: death, torture, dead bodies, abuse (mattheo + lorenzo), panic attack (mattheo + theodore), blood (mattheo + theodore), suicide (lorenzon + all technically?)

contains :: draco malfoy, tom riddle, mattheo riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire

summary :: you take a hit for the boys, dying in the process, despite not being on the same side for the war. i love this prompt OMGGG but I'm gonna add that you two are recently broken up due to the different sides for the war

DRACO MALFOY

He was very hesitant throughout the whole war to do something due to fear, he's not a born killer, he's just a boy

Once again, he was getting yelled at by one of the crazy death-eaters about how much of a pussy Draco is and how he's a shit wizard like his father

Draco wanted to defend himself, but the death-eater started ranting about how much better and stronger the Dark Lord would be without Draco

The death-eater shot the killed curse at Draco, but instead you jumped in, taking the hit

You dropped dead in-front of Draco, going completely limp as your soul left your body

Instantly, Draco is sobbing and upset, guarding your body with his own

He looks up at the death-eater and isn't afraid anymore, he shouts out "Crucio!!!"

Makes the man suffer for ages, kicking him, punching him, all whilst he's under the crucio curse

He's sobbing the entire time this happens, and before he knows it, he's been kicking a dead corpse for the past 10 minutes

The man died from the curse bring on for too long, making this one of Draco's first few kills

But Draco doesn't care, the man deserved it

It's better that he died then or else Draco would have tortured him for life

Instantly, Draco doesn't care about his father or mother anymore, running to go fight alongside the Order of the Phoenix in your honor

TOM RIDDLE

You always knew he would fulfill his father's place as the next Dark Lord, but you couldn't stop loving him

But when the war broke out, you two broke up to be able to focus on your side fully

Obviously, everyone was going to be attacking Tom since he was one of the strongest and most supportive of his father's ideas

But even though you two were broken up and even though he's been killing people on the Order of the Phoenix, you couldn't stand to see him die since you knew he was much more than just an "evil" person

You ran in front of Tom as the killing curse struck you instead of him, he watched your body turn limp

Without missing a beat, Tom instead killed the other person

Tom has never been a soft person, even while you two were dating

But he silently reaped over your body, holding your hand against his chest as he placed his fingers on your wrist, desperately trying to find your pulse

From then on, he swore to find the person who killed you's family, friends, even pets and make their lives hell

He also swears to bring you back to life, no matter what it costs

He always thought he would be the type to not care about his lovers and to just move on, but he realized very quickly that he would never ever love someone like how he loved you

MATTHEO RIDDLE

His father was obviously going to force him to fight in the war alongside him or else ungodly things would happen to Mattheo

He wanted to rebel, but Tom found out his plans and snitched to their dad

As punishment, Mattheo was tortured, beaten, and more. He was also forced to break up with you and lose contact with all of his friends who weren't death-eaters

When he saw you during the war, he did his best to avoid you at all costs so he wouldn't be forced to kill you

But when he heard you scream for help, his body was moving towards you before his brain could say no

When he saw you bleeding out, he saw one of his fellow death-eaters about to finish you off

He quickly shouted "AVADA KEDAVRA!!!" as he watched their body fall limp

Instantly, he's hit with so many emotions at once

The feeling of killing someone for the first time, missing you and finally seeing you, the fear of his father finding out, the pressure of the entire war being on his back due to his batshit insane father, and so so so much more

He was so lost in thoughts, borderline about to have a panic attack, making him not see his own brother about to shoot the killing curse at him

As he looks up, he sees you quickly standing infront of him on your weak bloody legs

BOOM

You were shot and fall backwards, into Mattheo's body

He fucking loses it

Every emotion he's been feeling for the past months explodes like a dam with too much water

He doesn't even use his wand, him and his brother get into a fist fight

Obviously, Mattheo was winning until Tom shouted out, "Crucio!"

Mattheo fell to the cold floor, sobbing as he was forced to make eye contact with your dead corpse

(ik he's different from his deadly class character, but honestly he's still a teenager ya know, and i think that he's just a fuck boy who physically beats people up but never actually killing or cursing people because he doesn't want to be like his father or brother)

THEDORE NOTT

He knew he would be forced to fight alongside his father, but he never wanted to

Before the war started, his father forced him to get the Dark Mark which fucked him up mentally

When you two were forced to split up, he was broken and it reassured him that he wanted NOTHING to do with death-eaters

When the war broke out, he was fucking terrified of everything

All of the shots of magic, the screams, the crying, the sounds of bodies dropping to the floor, it was all too much to him

He never wanted to be part of this, if he could, he would make a time machine and force you and him to run away to the muggle world in Italy

As he stood there, shaking anxiously, he suddenly made eye contact with you

Instantly, he wanted to hug you, kiss you, cry and tell you about all of the awful thing he's witnessed within the past month

But he can't even speak, his throat is shut close from how scared he is

"Kill her." He heard a deep voice, without turning his head he knew it was his father

Theo shook his head and closed his eyes, "No, no dad p-please, don't m-make me." His voice was hoarse and weak, his entire jaw shivered

His dad scoffed as he started berate Theodore right in front of you, calling him awful things and threatening him

His dad aggressively grabbed Theo's shirt, pushing him against the wall

The impact of it was so strong that the back of Theo's head began to bleed, making his vision become hazy

All he could see was his father's blurry figure raise his dark wand to Theo's direction, about to shoot a deadly spell at him

Theo closed his eyes, giving up. He knew deep down that his father would never kill him, torture yes but murder? Never

"AVADA KEDAVRA!!!" His father shouted, leaving Theo shocked to his core...

He opened his eyes, only to see your body hit the cold floor right below his feet

LORENZO BERKSHIRE

Was forced to fight alongside Draco's family since they're the ones who gave him a home

To help prove his loyalty, they forced him to cut off all ties with you which ended up with you two breaking up and going no contact

The whole month was pure torture for Lorenzo

Everyday he watched people die as an example to other death-eaters of what would happen if you were unloyal to Lord Voldemort

He was the only one in the group to try and keep the energy light by making small jokes or telling stories when the slytherin boys were locked inside the manor

But deep down, he was exhausted of acting okay and he missed you dearly

Only you could replenish the energy he lost, and he knew fully well he would see you again

When the big fight broke out, he was terrified but knew how to act and play along with the group

As he pretended to fight, he was secretly searching for you

When he spotted you, he instantly got teary eyed as he ran straight towards you

But for some reason, you didn't reciprocate his smile back, instead only showing fear as you shouted something at him

Suddenly you tackled him, shoving him to the ground

"(Y/N)?" He asked, thinking that you were just hugging him "I missed you so much!"

He sobbed as he hugged you, only to realize your body felt heavier than before

But he didn't say anything, thinking you just gained some extra weight

He moves his hand to brush your hair out of your face, only to be met with cold eyes

It strikes him like a truck, you took a hit for him... You were screaming for him to duck but he was so blinded by you that he didn't listen in time...

As Lorenzo looks up, he sees Tom... Of course Tom knew his plan all along, his plan to see you and to join the Order of Phoenix

And of course, Tom had to ruin it all

Lorenzo is shocked, about to scream out in pain but he knows he has to avenge you first in some way

Tom and Lorenzo both raise their wands, about to shoot their strongest spells

This fight may be Lorenzo last, he knows that he's a weak wizard, but he couldn't care less

Besides, if he dies, he'll see you again

And as he realizes that, he drops his wand and allows Tom to shoot him with the deadly curse

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chernabogs · 8 months

Text

Monody

Inc: Malleus x Reader, with special inclusion of Malleus' grandmother, Lilia, and Sebek's mother. Warnings: Existential crisis, brief allusion to death WC: 2k+ Summary: Fae loved rarely, but when they did, it was an all or nothing event—there was no hesitation when it came to that plunge. And this scared him.

She never remarried. When he was younger, his mind didn’t quite wrap around it as he would look up at her portrait in the palace halls. Her, and his mother—a mere child at the time—with her sombre gaze and blank expression, ungiving of any thoughts she had as the portrait was made. She was youthful herself, enough so that surely any Fae in the Valley would have sought her hand, and yet she never replaced the ring his grandfather gave her, nor did she take it off.

What a silly move, he may have once thought. Are you not lonely? Are the ghosts not driving you away?

Ghosts can do little to provide warmth at night, and ghosts are all that Black Scale Palace had. A skeleton court with spectres in the rafters. Once there may have been merriment and joy, but that was well before his hatching. His childhood consisted of hushed conversations in dark palace halls, faces that aged well before their time, and a heavy silence that lingered in the air.

There’s a mausoleum for his family near the palace grounds, and it’s in this place of death that he first discovered the horrors of love. In the stagnant interior, where stone tombs with his family members' faces carved on them rest, he would hide as a child from tutors and guardians alike. The flickering of eternal flames on the wall provided enough light to see the features of those he would never meet. On newfound legs with newfound hands he would touch the face of his mother, of his grandfather, and of all those who came before, mapping them onto his own like he was trying to find a part of them in him somewhere.

His grandmother found him there once. He expected a scolding, but instead she stood in silence, letting him explore until she finally cleared her throat to alert him of her presence.

"This is grandfather?", he would ask her, in the innocent manner that children often do when topics of death arise. And she would nod, as he moved to the next tomb. "And this is mother?", he asked, and she would nod again, her gaze once more ungiving to the thoughts in her mind.

"Do you miss them?"

He didn’t know loss the way she did at the time. He didn’t know the pain from losing your love, from losing your daughter, from not knowing if the last member of your family will live or not.

"I do." He remembers her answering. She stood by the door as she spoke, as though afraid to enter further, afraid to approach the faces that she once saw with life and now only knew in dreams. "I miss them greatly."

"Why?" He had turned to look at her. Her face was washed in shadows, but her eyes—he would always remember her eyes. They were blank as she looked at him.

"Everyone misses the ones they love when they leave us. You cannot speak with them, or hold them, or tell them how much they mean to you. All you can do is stand here—and stare."

He had turned back to the tomb of his mother, with her sombre gaze and blank expression. With features of stone she felt cold to touch, and Malleus suspected the shiver that ran up his spine was not simply because of the mausoleum's temperature. He looked back at his grandmother again, at the way she stared at the tombs that surrounded them, before he hurried to her side.

He did not want to love, he decided then, in a rash thought fuelled by a child's fear. He did not want to be like her one day, at the entrance of a tomb alone, with only the option to stand—and stare.

Love is for the lonely.

_______________________________________________

He knew the Zigvolt girl from the scarce Court events that he was allowed to attend. She was much like her father—loud, with electric green hair and scales adorning her cheeks. She towered over the others with a presence that commanded attention and a laugh that drew all eyes to her when she let it free. As a child, he had found her noisy and irritating, a feeling he had commented to Lilia on more than one occasion.

Then one day she was not there. The absence of sound, of that loud laugh and commanding tone, jarred him briefly and he had ventured to Lilia to question where the young socialite had gone.

"Do you miss her already?" Lilia had chuckled, causing Malleus’ brow to furrow in response.

"Is she ill?"

Illness was the only explanation he could fathom, despite never experiencing it himself. Then he saw Lilia’s expression—a brief flash of sympathy—before it fell back to benign amusement.

"No, not ill. But I dare say we will be seeing less of her at events of the nobility from here on out." Was all he had offered back, as frustratingly cryptic as always.

It was through Malleus’ unspoken-of (yet highly developed) talent for eavesdropping that he gradually began to piece together the scandalous tale of the young socialite and the dental assistant she had found herself enamoured with.

When Malleus learned the man was a human, he had decided that the Zigvolt girl was as foolish as he had suspected. Tensions still lingered with human-kind, and every Fae knew that the shortness of a human's lifespan compared to their own made relationships a ridiculous idea to pursue. Why would one wish to intentionally hurt themself by loving something that would leave them so soon? Surely the brief halcyon days that such a romance would bring would not be worth the bleakness that follows when the coffin is set in the earth?

"She’s happy," Lilia had mused as Malleus pried into the relationship even further. "Baul, less so, but I think even he is gradually warming up to the idea."

"But why?" Malleus had asked, scowling as he did. "Why choose him when she knows he’ll die soon?"

Lilia had fixed Malleus with an unusually stern look at that. The two stood in Lilia’s cottage, facing off against each other with Malleus—in the typical teenage temperament—looking frustrated in turn. "She’s foolish."

"Love makes fools of us all." Lilia had countered then. "When you know you have found the right person, you care little for the obstacles that stand in your way. You would tear the world asunder for them. Death may end it physically, but the feeling will always remain."

"Foolish." He repeated, shaking his head and turning away. "What is the point of being so vulnerable when you know it will only last a moment?"

He had been invited to the wedding. Although he did not go, he had been told the Zigvolt girl had radiated a joy so great that it put even the brightest of the sun's rays to shame.

Love is for the fools.

_______________________________________________

Ramshackle was a dorm of ruins. Even from beyond the gates, he could hear the sound of the floorboards rotting and the cement cracking under the weight of time. It was a soothing melody of decay that seemed to lighten his heart significantly whenever he passed by at night. There was something so lovely about seeing places of life now stand as monoliths in the night.

Which is why, when he saw a light on in the window, it had irritated him deeply. At first he believed that students had crept in for a fright—something he would be more than happy to give them—until a figure had stepped out and stood on the porch, watching him.

He stood by the iron gate, and stared right back.

They faced off against each other for a long moment before the figure trekked down the pathway—he could hear that gaudy shuffling—and came to a stop before him.

A human.

A plain, rather forgetful human, who looked up at him like a child with an expression of both confusion and concern.

The encounter had been brief, enough so that he figured he would forget about it as soon as he returned back to Diasomnia. And yet, it still lingered in his mind in the coming nights, accompanied by an odd spark of eagerness for what would happen next.

What name shall you give me? What role shall I play?

The gifting of a name was an intimate act often reserved for those closest to one another. He had never been close to anyone beyond family and those affiliated with them. This stranger in the night, one of curiosity and caution, would be the first he would forge this connection with.

The name you had granted had been laughable, and it took all of his self-control not to crack a grin when you announced it with such pride at the next encounter. Your naivety was charming in a quaint, adoring manner. That was not the only aspect that drew his interest. Your resilience, your ambition, your compassion to the students around you that so greatly contrasted what he had grown up witnessing in his years at Black Scale Palace. You were refreshing.

There was a feeling there. It unsettled him. He didn’t tell Lilia about it; rather, he secured it in a locked box in his chest, pushing it away and dismissing it as a mere interest over your willingness to be so at ease with him. Sometimes that feeling rattled around and made him feel nauseous, both with himself and with you. Other times, it was though it never existed at all.

Things changed when he over-blotted.

Perhaps it was a cruelty on his part to let you be exposed to the horrors and the tragedies that had plagued his homeland for so long. Perhaps a part of him craved you to know it, to know him, so you would realize that he was not the kind of person you had built up in your mind. He gave you death, and loss, and sorrow—

And in the end, you gave him forgiveness.

He tore the world asunder like Lilia had once alluded to and you had stood through it all, your gaze never wavering, your heart never shaken. He hated it. He hated you (what a lie). He wanted to force you out of existence so that the locked box in his chest could finally be put in the ground like it deserved. He wanted to force Silver, to force Sebek, to force Lilia. The loss of control sent him spiralling because he had always, always, had that at least.

The aftermath of it all was humbling.

Broken words and broken apologies had poured from his lips to those who he held dear. He had met the eyes of the boys he helped raise and the man who had raised him. He had looked to you, his friend, his confidant, and perhaps something more—though the thought of that terrified him more than anything else. Black blot was soon washed away and the world began to push forward despite the rotting briar thorns that covered the land, a mausoleum of its own to the actions that occurred that night.

He had never been to a medical ward, but he was there now, and so were you—sitting by his side, yammering on about some mundane thing that was glossing over his mind. It was on that cot that he had finally forced himself to turn and really look at you.

A human.

A plain, rather forgetful human. Nothing about you should have stood out for him, and yet when he looked your way, it was as though the entire world faded out except for your voice. The locked box in his chest felt heavy. He wanted to rip it out and toss it aside.

You cannot speak with them, or hold them, or tell them how much they mean to you. All you can do is stand here—and stare.

His grandmother’s words replayed in his mind like a broken record. Fae loved rarely, but when they did, it was an all or nothing event—there was no hesitation when it came to that plunge.

And this scared him.

A human. You were a human.

How long did that give you? 60 years, maybe. 70 if you were fortunate enough. 178 years already felt like a blink of an eye for him, so surely 70 would be just as quick?

He thought about the Zigvolt girl again as he continued to listen to you talk. He had considered her foolish once, but now he realized perhaps it had been envy that he felt, rather than disdain. She had the courage to grasp on to an opportunity despite knowing that it would last only moments in her lifetime. Meanwhile here he was, silently watching you with valuable words unable to leave his throat.

He looked away to the white ceiling above. A plain, empty space that one could lose themselves in quite easily.

He wanted to be like the Zigvolt girl. He wanted to be like his grandmother. He wanted to be like Lilia. He wanted to tear the world asunder once more, to shield you away from death as it crept closer and closer with each night that passed. He wanted you. He wanted you, so much so that it ached in his body.

But he couldn’t do it. Not to you, not to himself. He loved slowly, and someone like you deserved a more fulfilling experience than what he could provide in your lifetime.

So he simply lay there, and continued to listen to you speak.

Love is for the lonely.

Love is for the fools.

Loving you is for someone much bolder than he.

#twst x reader #malleus draconia #twst malleus #someone hold me at gunpoint and make me write another dorm plz #anyway that's all she wrote folks

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flowerandblood · 10 months

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The Impossible Choice (4)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, fingering, angst, smut, domination ]

[description: Aemond comes to Storm's End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

The day before their nuptials in the Great Sept she could not sleep. She spent her last days in the care of the queen, preparing for the wedding, learning how she should behave in every situation, when she could speak, and with whom it was appropriate to dance and converse during the wedding feast.

She was surprised when the queen summoned her to her chamber for a face-to-face conversation, alone, even without her servants. She felt that she was about to learn something important and sat tensely in her chair, looking at her expectantly. The queen looked at her warmly, once again giving her that motherly look that she missed so much.

“I wanted to speak with you about your wedding night. Do you know what begetting an heir involves?” She spoke calmly, gently, as if afraid the topic of conversation might scare her.

She pursed her lips in shame, lowering her gaze, unable to look at her.

If you obey me, I will make sure that we both enjoy ourselves.

She didn't know what he meant, but he shocked her with this confession. She wondered if she should believe him, or if he was just manipulating her not to stand up to him.

She nodded slowly, and the queen sighed, rubbing her knees with her hands, as if the topic was uncomfortable and unpleasant for her as well.

"It will be best if you just lie on your back on the bed. This is the most comfortable position. Let him do what he needs to do, the sooner he's done, the better for you. It can be hard, but try not to cry, think about something else. After all, you should lie down for a while. This will help you beget his heir sooner." She said calmly, looking at her tenderly, sadly, comfortingly.

She swallowed hard at her words, horrified by what she heard, but at the same time she felt immense gratitude towards her for telling her all about it. She nodded her head again, indicating that she understood, not being able to utter a single word.

On the day of their nuptials she asked her servant for a cup of wine in the morning to calm herself down. She could feel her hands shaking, but the alcohol had dulled her and relaxed her, making her look less pale.

She tried to think only about seeing her brother and father again.

Royce did not disappoint her. He stepped into her chamber without warning, throwing himself at her while she was halfway through dressing her wedding gown. She laughed with joy when she saw him, her heart squeezed so hard with happiness at the sight of him that she wanted to cry.

Her brother took her warm cheeks in his hands, looking at her tenderly.

"You look beautiful, sweet sister."

He sat in an old wooden chair, sipping wine and chatting with her, as her servants pinned the puffy sleeves with cut-outs over the red chemise underneath her gown.

She tried not to think with regret that her sisters had not come to help her prepare for the day, even though it was a tradition.

She also knew that her father must have been speaking with the king himself and he was too occupied to see her as well.

Her maids had part of her hair braided in a circle around her head, and part of it combed into an exquisite, intricate braid that fell down her back. They slid pins of gold-plated pearls into her hair and placed jewelry around her neck.

She looked dignified, rich, beautiful.

Due to the fact that she was never considered as the future wife of the prince, she did not pay attention to her attires, considering that she would not look as good in a gowns as her sisters.

Now, looking at her own reflection in the mirror she thought proudly that she had not lacked anything.

Before the nuptials she received a blessing from her father.

For the first time in her life she saw him holding back tears of despair. She knew that he was suffering from the thought of what was going to happen to her that night.

She had no words of comfort for him or for herself.

She stroked his rough, beard-covered cheek and walked towards her retinue at the end of which was the carriage that would take her to the Great Sept with her father.

People cheered her as they drove through the sunny, bright streets of King's Landing; the people of the capital remembered the Baratheon's contribution to their safety in all the wars of recent years.

As she stepped out of the carriage in front of the sept she saw with joy that the children were throwing wildflowers at her. She wanted to collect them but her father urged her, saying that there was no time for that.

She placed her hand on his outstretched arm and walked with him to the center of the sept, amid the soaring sound of trumpets and the whispers of the gathered who might see her for the first time.

As she walked, she kept her eyes on the prince who was looking at her intensely.

He was standing in a beautiful black and red tunic, the colors of his house, straight and proud, his jaw clenched, his expression indifferent and expressionless, his gaze almost aggressive.

She thought that she didn't care anymore.

She felt like everything around her was happening outside of her. His cloak on her shoulders, their hands intertwined in front of the septon, their mouths uttering oaths.

They were husband and wife.

She heard the loud applause and cheers, the joy of the crowd.

She felt as if she had gone deaf.

She stared into his dark, dangerous, bright eye, piercing right through her and wondered what was going on in his head right now.

When they arrived at the wedding feast and sat down side by side, not a single word was exchanged between them. She smiled warmly at all the guests, recognizing that at least one of them had to look pleased.

She couldn't swallow anything.

She knew that he wouldn't ask her to dance, but she was still disappointed when it turned out that she really couldn't count on his involvement in this aspect.

Royce, apparently annoyed by this detail, asked her to dance himself. She glanced at her now husband, wordlessly pleading for his permission and saw him nod slowly, turning his face away again.

She knew that he watched her carefully as she danced with her brother and then with the other lords. She knew that he was possessive, that he now wanted to think of her as his own, and she couldn't upset him.

Not before what was about to happen.

As he stood suddenly, announcing that they were going to rest, she felt her heart pounding like crazy in her chest, her whole body froze and stiffened.

She looked up at him and saw that he was glancing at her expectantly, so she rose slowly and bowed to her father and the king, who followed them with uncertain stares.

She followed him silently to his chamber, where Lyanna was already waiting for her to help her pull off her elaborate gown and undid her hair. She stripped her down to a lovely, beautiful embroidered, snow-white nightgown and approached her, smearing her neck and wrists with a pleasant, floral-scented oil.

Looking at herself in the mirror she thought that she was completely vulnerable, helpless.

That's what he wanted.

She shuddered and glanced quickly over her shoulder as she saw that he stood up from his chair, already dressed only in his linen shirt and breeches, a clear impatience in his gaze that it had taken so long.

"Leave." He said dryly.

Lyanna wanted to protest that she wasn't done yet, but the prince gave her only one murderous look, which made her shiver and silently leave, avoiding him, closing the door behind her.

They were left alone.

She could feel the tension between them, the stuffy, heavy air in the chamber; all she could hear in her ears was her rapid breathing and the beating of her own heart.

She thought that she would do anything he asked her to do as long as he didn't hurt her.

After a moment's thought, he approached her with slow, unhurried step. She stared at him helplessly, her mouth slightly parted in a troubled breath that she couldn't control.

He grabbed her jaw with his hand, but more gently than before and stared at her for a moment.

She shivered as his fingers slid from her face to her neck and he began to massage her nape with slow, calm movements that gave her goosebumps all over her body. She wondered what was happening to her, because she wasn't entirely sure if the only feeling she felt was fear.

He leaned over her suddenly, her breath caught in her throat, her eyes wide in horror and anticipation.

“Kiss me.” He whispered and pressed his lips to hers instantly, closing his hand around her neck, holding her in an iron grip.

She stifled a moan, only a soft, startled sound coming out of her mouth, feeling how greedily he bit into her skin, how soft, fleshy and wet his hungry lips were.

She felt his fingers tighten on the nape of her neck at her lack of response, so she timidly brushed his upper lip with her throbbing, sticky mouth, making a low, satisfied sound coming out from his throat.

"More." He commanded softly, and she felt a pleasant squeeze between her thighs at the sound of his hoarse voice, his caresses lazy and pleasant.

She tried to imitate his movements, placing her hand on his chest for balance, running her lips over his, pressing them lightly, wanting to see how it felt. Something inside her was throbbing again and again at the wet, sticky click of their saliva that she heard every time their lips parted, only to meet in another kiss.

He pulled away from her, his mouth puffy, swollen from their caresses that seemed to fill him with desire. His eye wasn't so stern anymore, she thought that he was pleased. So far she didn't feel any discomfort either, quite the opposite − he smelled of soap and bath, sweat and thirst that made her throat dry.

"Will you obey me?" He asked low, his voice quivering slightly with arousal.

For some reason she felt wetness between her thighs at his question, but thought it couldn't be moon bleeding yet, because it was too early.

She nodded and squealed softly as he suddenly lifted her by the hips, walking with her toward his bed. He placed her on her back, and she thought that was it.

She settled herself comfortably on the bedding, looking at him expectantly, feeling her whole body tremble. He did not lie on top of her as her sister had said, however, but sat next to her on the bed, leaning over her.

She shuddered and swallowed hard as she saw his hands begin to untie her nightgown. He unfolded the fabric in two, exposing her breasts to him, making her voice get stuck in her throat.

She didn't know what was happening.

She turned her head involuntarily, breathing loudly, ashamed that he was looking at her naked body in such a licentious way, so close, not even trying to cover herself, knowing that there was no point in resisting, desperation and anxiety on her face.

"Look at me." He commanded. She flinched all over and obeyed him with difficulty, looking at him pleadingly, gasping for breath, feeling her whole body aflame and hot.

She inhaled sharply as she felt his large hand on her breast, running his fingers over it, kneading it lightly, tentatively. She saw his lips part as he felt her soft, firm skin under his hand, his gaze was serious, but also full of arousal and darkness that made her feel throbbing between her thighs.

She nearly jumped and stifled a moan, pressing her lips together as she felt his thumb brush over her nipple, surprised by the brief, sudden thrill of pleasure she felt. He repeated this movement encouraged by her reaction, and she trembled all over, unable to take her eyes off his face. She saw him frown, his chest heaving uneasily.

"I want to hear you. Your every moan belongs to me." He hissed, pressing his thumb against her nipple harder, teasing and rubbing her on purpose.

When a soft, sweet moan of surprise escaped her lips at last, she saw the glint in his eye, the corner of his mouth twitched dangerously, his breathing quickened.

"− good girl −" He whispered with some kind of appreciation, she pursed her lips at his praise, feeling the squeeze between her thighs, a hot, tickling tension building up inside her for some reason.

Her breath caught in her throat as he leaned over her, his mouth clung greedily to her breast, sucking on her nipple like a small child. Another, this time more intense shiver of pleasure vibrate through her body, making her whimper softly, clenching her hands on either side of her head into fists.

She was afraid to touch him.

She didn't know if she should.

The Queen did not reveal such details to her, additionally neither she nor her sister mentioned anything about what her husband was doing to her now.

She pursed her lips and sucked in a loud breath as she felt his hand slid down to the bare skin of her thigh, pulling her chemise up, her legs trembled and closed involuntarily as she felt him want to put his fingers between them.

"Never close your thighs in front of me." He said coldly, stopping the caress, looking at her expectantly.

She swallowed hard and meekly spread her legs slightly, letting him do what he wanted. He hummed contentedly as he went back to sucking on her puffy, hard nipple, felt them both gasp and freeze for a moment as his fingers touched her hot womanhood.

No one had ever touched her in this place, so intimate and private.

Her whole body shuddered as his fingers ran over her moist folds, rubbing a bud hidden between them, sending a spasm of pleasure through her. She heard him stifle a guttural moan as he found her sticky wetness, leaking from her slit down onto the sheets, he looked at her with a gaze from which she felt embarrassment.

"− gods − already so fucking wet −" He hummed, obviously as surprised as she was.

She thought, seeing his reaction, that apparently this was good information.

She opened her mouth wide in silent amazement as his movement changed, his fingers began to press firmly around her pearl, teasing this spot with circular, steady strokes, from which she felt a twitching deep inside her. He felt it and licked her nipple with a low purr, making her threw her head back with a warm, innocent moan.

She didn't expect that.

What she was feeling now had nothing to do with pain.

She was terrified that he was touching the most intimate parts of her body, but he was doing it in such a way that she felt a pleasant, hot tickle in her lower abdomen, which made her feel an increasing need for relief, although she did not know how she could experience it.

She sobbed loudly, flinching suddenly as she felt his middle finger press against her opening, pushing against her tight, hot, fleshy walls. It was both uncomfortable and pleasant, she had never experienced this kind of sensation before and was terrified, so she tried to loosen up and breathe loudly through her mouth.

"− easy − don't resist me − take what I give you −" He murmured, returning to his earlier caresses, pressing his lips to her breasts as if he couldn't tear himself away, she heard him make low, guttural growls every time his tongue licked again her hard nipple.

She whimpered softly as his finger slowly slid deeper into her hot core, stretching her so much that she spread her thighs wider to make it easier for herself and for him, having no clue what he was actually doing.

She moaned loudly when he finally slid his finger all the way in and sighed in relief when he slid it out gently. Her voice stuck in her throat as he repeated the motion, pushing his finger into her at an increasingly rapid pace, rubbing her just above her entrance, teasing some spot inside her through which she felt shivers of pleasure.

Suddenly his pace changed from gentle and steady to quick and sure, his finger slipping in and out of her with the wet clicks of her moisture, squeezing her so deliciously that she wanted to beg him to stop, feeling that something was about to happen to her body, that her tension was reaching a peak.

"− please −" She mewled, her hand clenching helplessly on his arm that he was leaning on, rocking her hips involuntarily to the thrusts of his finger.

"− shhh −" He hummed contentedly, adding his second finger to her interior, causing her body to writhe under him in spasms.

She was no longer able to look at him or focus on anything, her body leaning back, her eyes closed with pleasure, sweat running down her soft skin with exertion.

She drew in a quick breath when he suddenly stopped, sliding his fingers out of her, looking at her with wide eye, his lips parted in unutterable delight.

"− fuck − I need to feel you −" He panted, reaching into the material of his breeches, untying them quickly.

She swallowed hard as he spreaded her legs in front of him, holding her hips, drawing her closer in one, firm motion. His hands went to his breeches again, sliding them down just enough to free his throbbing, swollen erection.

She turned her head away, ashamed of the sight, terrified that this was what she was about to feel inside her.

She didn't know how she was going to take it if his fingers was already causing her discomfort in the begging.

She felt his hand grab her cheeks, turning her face towards him.

"Look at me." He hissed, and she shivered at the sight of his dark eye.

No man had ever looked at her that way before.

He licked his lips with a grunt of satisfaction as her large, terrified eyes remained fixed on his face. He leaned over her, placing his hands on either side of her head, breathing loudly, his long, white hair tickling her cheeks.

They both knew what was about to happen.

"Spread your thighs wide." He whispered, his voice a little softer, but still commanding. She opened her mouth, trying to catch her breath, and obediently did as he said, trying not to think about how scared she was.

She felt his hands lift the fabric of her nightgown above her thighs, exposing everything underneath, her body in some subconscious reflex wanted to move away when she felt the fat, pink head of his cock begin to push against her hot, leaking opening. She trembled as the fingers of one of his hands grabbed her hip warningly, digging into her soft skin.

"Don't run away from me. Be good and I'll take it slow." He gasped as she felt the tip of his manhood press against her entrance again.

She felt his fingers slid lower, parting the skin of her folds to the sides, making her feel uncomfortable.

She pursed her lips as she felt it, trying not to make a sound.

She squirmed silently, closing her eyes as she felt him force his way inside her, her fingers involuntarily clenched into fists, she had the feeling that, indeed, according to her sister's words, her husband was about to tear her apart from the inside.

Was she supposed to fit it all in?

She heard his soft sigh when he slid deeper into her, as if he was in pain himself.

"− fuck − breath − just a little more − I promise −" He panted, and she swallowed hard, trying to calm her breathing, to relax her body.

She was relieved that he stopped, waiting for her walls not to press against him so terribly.

They both breathed a loud sigh when, after a moment, one sure thrust of his hips sank him deep into her, causing her a burning, sharp pain that, however, passed after a moment.

It was a strange, disturbing and intimate feeling at the same time.

She considered it an act of his grace that he waited a moment before sliding out of her slowly only to thrust into her again a moment later, she had the feeling that her muscles had adjusted to his size.

He watched her intently, looking at her with wide-open eye, apparently assessing whether he could already speed up his pace, which he did as soon as he heard her first startled moans.

The tip of his manhood rubbed and squeezed again and again the spot inside her where he had previously dug his fingers in.

Gods, she thought.

It feels good.

Involuntarily, she tightened her hand on his arm and looked at him in horror, not even noticing when they both began pant, first softly, then louder and louder, her hands clenched on his shirt, as she couldn't hold back the tension that was building again in her loins, rising like boiling water.

With each of his sharp, deep thrust, his thighs slammed against her buttocks with a wet slaps of her moisture, so shamelessly, dirty, that she writhed all over him.

"− yes − that's it − ah − so fucking tight −" He exaled, and she, surprised by his words, just moaned sweetly, making him completely lose his temper.

He rose suddenly, taking her hips in his hands, kneeling in front of her, rooting into her quickly and brutally, rubbing her where she needed it each time, making her body arch back in pleasure, shocked by the intensity of the sensation.

"− come on − give me what I want − fuck, I want to hear it −" He panted, slamming into her with all the strength he had in his hips, she felt like he would burst into her stomach.

She didn't know what he meant, but she no longer felt pain or discomfort.

She felt numb to a different kind of feeling, her vision blurred, her mind completely foggy.

All she could hear was how they both panted and moaned alternately, the bed below them creaking with each of his thrusts, each slap of his thighs.

Suddenly she felt something approaching, her whole body tensed, as if trying to defend herself against it.

And then it happened.

She leaned back with her mouth parted wide and sobbed loudly, helplessly, pressing her cheek to the pillow, as a wave of unexpected pleasure surged brutally through her body, then a second, a third, and a fourth.

She heard him groan low, panting in delight at what he had seen in front of him, he made a loud, almost animal sound of relief, and then a warmth spilled inside her. He rocked his hips in her for a while longer, breathing heavily, and then he fell on top of her without strength, crushing her with his weight.

She stared at the door to his chamber, panting loudly, her body trembling in convulsions from what she had just experienced.

She was in shock.

She didn't know that her body was capable of something like this.

He slipped his manhood out of her with her quiet hiss of discomfort, rising immediately, tying his breeches back on. She heard him grunt loudly before he spoke, his breathing still quickened and his voice slightly hoarse as he said the words.

"You may now return to your chamber."

She felt a stab of pain and rejection at his words, unsure if he was dismissing her or if he wanted her to decide for herself where she would spend the night after what had happened.

“The queen said that I should lie down for a long time afterwards. Thanks to this, as she said, I will give you an heir sooner." She whispered in a trembling voice, her body still unable to recover from what she had just experienced.

She saw him glance at her over his shoulder, looking at her intensely. In the end he just grunted and nodded, apparently giving her permission to do what she thought that was appropriate, with no intention of meddling in these intricate, feminine matters.

He walked around the bed, getting under the covers and lying on his stomach, turning his head away from her, not saying a word.

She didn't say anything to him either, but she couldn't help the smile that appeared on her face.

He could pretend to be indifferent to her and not speak to her, but the truth was that he desired her.

She thought, surprised, that he had kept his promise.

He made her enjoy it.

She wondered if he would lose interest in her after all this, or if on the contrary he would want her even more.

She decided that the most important thing was not to impose herself on him, not to make him feel like he broke her or owned her, not to fall to his knees in front of him, begging him to love her.

Most of all, she wanted him to respect her.

She closed her eyes, sighing softly in relief that it was all over.

She wasn't a maiden. The marriage was sealed.

Officially, in the eyes of gods and man, she was his wife.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @diosademuerte @rwdkarla @echos-muses @ipostwhtifeel @letmeloveyouuuu @yentroucnagol

Others: @dreamymoomin @thedamewithabook @dc-marvel-girl96 @zillahvathek @helaenaluvr @tssf-imagines @heavenly1927 @hiatuswhore @it-is-getting-better @linkpk88

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space-invading-pigeon · 1 year

Text

Steve is the Mom Friend™, officially the most reliable member of the Party; it would be Dustin, but Dustin insists that they'd be lost without Steve there to help them. Steve doesn't argue, but he disagrees. He thinks he's too volatile to really be considered for Most Reliable.

For most of his childhood, he was isolated from his peers, who he was Not Allowed To Talk To Because They Aren't Worth A Harrington's Time, Stephen. Steve is young and still wants his parents to love him, so he obeys. He's a good boy, if a little sensitive, and therein lies the problem: he feels so much, and he doesn't have a clue on how to express any of it. He can't process his feelings, they're too big to fit in his body. It overwhelms him easily and makes his throat tight- impossible to speak. His father scolds him when he has these overwhelmed episodes, as if Steve is purposely ruining his off time at home by crying; his mother ignores him if he acts childishly. There isn't really anyone who teaches Steve how to cope with being a human.

Steve remembers that he was always angry. It felt like an itch under his skin, a low but steady humming in his veins that could explode at anything, and even back then, he despised that feeling, scared that it meant he would end up a Bad Person. He'd started getting into fights (the first one he could remember was when he was eight and Keith pushed him to get to the playground faster. Keith got a bloody nose and Steve got detention for a week) and never really stopped. By twelve, his entire school is afraid of him, except for a select few kids: Tommy H, whose dad worked with Steve's dad, Barb Holland, who thought Steve was both a good person and a blockhead, and the new Munson boy, who didn't say much of anything, but especially nothing about the time he caught Steve crying in the woods in April after his parents missed the sixth birthday in a row.

It didn't really get better until high school, when his father demanded suggested he sign up for the basketball team; practice and drills helped diffuse a lot of that stifled anger, and for the first time, Steve feels like he can breathe. He doesn't have to be angry all the time anymore, even if most of his calm is just a lack of energy. That isn't to say the anger is gone; he still gets into fights often, but he manages to tone down the violence and rely more on a sharp tongue and a lazy confidence whenever fighting is brought up.

Cue season one! Steve, at the top of his game, the bloody, undisputed King of Hawkins High, is absolutely head over heels for sweet, shy Nancy Wheeler. He bares his soul to Nancy, who, after hearing what he has to say, promises that she'll be there for him. They're together now, they look after each other. It's everything Steve had ever wanted.

When he finds out about the creepy photos Jonathan took of them at Steve's pool on the night Barb went missing (and I love Jonathan, I really do, but what the hell man), he feels that anger starting to boil over again and panics. He was doing so well! Nancy would help, though, just hearing that find "You're an idiot, Steve Harrington" would cool him off. But it worsens when he tries to sneak in to Nancy's room and Jonathan is SLEEPING in Nancy's bed, half-curled around her. Steve doesn't want to get the cops called on him again, so he goes home.

The next day, it all boils over. He tried to stay calm, really, but it was like using a wine cork to stop a volcano; he stands by while Carol and Tommy spread rumors about Nancy, smirks cruelly while Carol spray paints the slur on the movie theater sign, and does not give an inch when Nancy calls him an ass, tears in her eyes and flanked by Jonathan. He's trying his damnedest to keep his hands to himself, though (his father wasn't happy the last time Steve got arrested, and somehow Steve knew that he wouldn't be happy if it happened again), so he's caught off guard when Jonathan starts throwing punches. (Later, Steve will admit that he doesn't really remember what he'd said to make Jonathan so angry that he'd actually try to fight Steve, but he'll apologize anyway. Jonathan is quick to forgive, and apologizes for starting the fight, as well). Steve's memory gets spotty around this time; he remembers a sharp pain in his head, just above his left ear, and being so dizzy that he struggles not to throw up, but he doesn't remember Jonathan landing any other hits (he has three bruises, two around his sternum and one under his eye, as well as a split lip), and he definitely does not remember running from the police trying to break up the fight.

It takes him a few hours to calm down, but it's largely due to the gap in his memory keeping him confused and panicked; he can't remember what he said, and Jonathan Byers may be a girlfriend-stealer but Steve remembers that he's also the kid who held funerals for the mice caught in the traps behind the school gym. Whatever he said had to have been really, really messed up, and Steve genuinely hates that he gets angry, that it isn't uncommon for him to lose time to his anger, that his first response to anything is always anger. So he goes to apologize.

The loaded gun pointed at his face is somehow the least upsetting part of that night.

During season 2, there's a lot going on. Steve has been working so hard on his anger, on keeping a lid on it and actually processing his emotions (thank you, therapy that Hopper demanded Hawkins Lab provide), but it wasn't enough. Nancy resented him, had actually blamed him for Barb's death, and that bitterness came to a head on Halloween.

Without Nancy, Steve struggled a lot more. He had nothing, no one; he didn't have anyone to tell about his parents' death in early June, and he didn't like talking about his wealth. There was no support system- until Dustin decided that Steve was going to help him. The kid was relentless and demanding and trusted Steve to help him almost immediately. Steve could hardly keep up, but he loved the feeling. And, when they ended up in a junkyard bus surrounded by demon dogs, he had three people depending on him, and suddenly he had a way to channel his anger (Dr. Harris would be so proud when he told her). He had a bat and enough unresolved trauma to rival those people his dad used to talk about with shell shock, and by the gods he was going to use that. He went apeshit on some demodogs, saved the kid's lives, and apparently became a big brother to a genius boy and a little girl that could probably fight God and win. He also got his third concussion when Max's stepbrother threatened to kill Lucas, but the order of events for that night is skewed; he blames the concussion. The doctor Hopper forced him to go to after said that he may never hear out of his left side again.

Season 3 sees Steve with a little family that he built all on his own: there's Will (who's shy but has a smile like sunshine when Steve asks him about anything), Jonathan (who cried when Steve asks if they can be friends and then proceeds to infodump on musicians every time he hears Steve so much as hum in a mildly musical manner), Max (the girl with a keen sense and a quick wit, whose older brother terrifies Steve because that's exactly how he could have turned out had he not gotten help), Lucas (who treated Steve like the big brother he never had and often called him racist for trivial things ["Steve, can we order pizza?" No. "Is it because I'm black?"]) Erica (who just sorta showed up with Lucas on occasion and reminded Steve just how fun it could be to be That Bitch), Mike (who alternated between passive assholery and cartoon-esque assassination attempts), Nancy, shockingly (who sat Steve down soon after the massacre at the hospital and apologized for blaming him for- well, everything. They'd talked for a long time, hashing it out, and by the end of it, Steve felt like he had a friend), Eleven (who comes by every Wednesday and Saturday for homemade waffles and a secret knitting circle), and Dustin (who became like a real little brother in the span of three days and never looked back. Steve vowed to keep Dustin safe with everything in him that night in the tunnels.).

He meets Robin when he gets a job at Starcourt (he may be set for life but Hop had told him that hard work built character, and Hop was the kind of man Steve wanted to become). She's wary of him, at first, especially when she watches him break the ice cream machine in a (now rare) fit of anger after a customer blew up at him for their ice cream melting before they finished it. But then he stammers through an apology and brings her a batch of cookies the next day, and tries to explain that he's better now, really, and Robin decides that he's a good person deep down. Maybe not too deep down, though, because his cookies are the best she's ever had. Besides, watching his face turn cherry red as he hides behind the shelves to spy on the repair guy is the most entertaining thing she's seen all summer, possibly in her life.

("Steve, you're drooling," she warns, and Steve hurriedly checks his chin.

"I'm making sure he doesn't get his hair stuck in the machine!" He tries to defend.

"First, his hair is under that bandanna. Second, Eddie Munson would rather die than ruin his rockstar hair.")

Their ice cream machine breaks six more times before Dustin comes back from camp, and each time Steve is a flustered mess talking to Eddie Munson. To his credit, Eddie only gives Steve a half-fond, amused smile before chatting with him about nothing in particular. After the third time, Eddie starts calling Steve "big boy" and lightly teasing him over the fist-shaped dents in the side of the machine.

Steve fights the Russians in the secret Starcourt base, not because they're coming at him, but because one of them reaches out for Dustin/Erica. The edges of his vision blurs, and distantly he knows that he's experiencing something like his childhood episodes: all his can feel is fire in his soul, burning straight through his body, and he has to get it out, he has to protect his brother-

"Wow, Steve won a fight!" Dustin crows as Steve is coming back to himself, his whole body trembling with leftover rage and no one to take it out on. Steve just clutches Dustin to him and tries to breathe. Dustin allows it for two minutes, then starts to squirm, but Steve doesn't release him until they hear footsteps.

With Dustin and Erica safe, Steve surrenders pretty easily- he needed to save his energy. But then they started the "interrogation," and Robin sounded so scared, and they hurt his hands and there were drugs-

Steve faintly remembers jumping onto a man (so tall and broad that Steve briefly felt like he was just a backpack) and biting him, locking his jaw and clawing like a feral cat. Robin remembers Steve promising to "smack the red right out of you commie assholes" while forcing his way through the tunnels, but she can't be sure if it was real or the drugs they were given. Dustin recalls Steve giggling at the movie they were hiding in, like a dork. Erica will never forget that Steve has a Berserker mode, or that he protected her even though she was in the process of blackmailing him for free ice cream.

In October of '85, Jason Carver catches him in the high school parking lot one night as he waits for Hellfire to get out. Steve denies all memories of what was said between them, but Jason walks away without need for an ambulance, so he counts it as a win.

In December of '85, the day that the kids all get out for Christmas Break, Chrissy Cunningham finds him in the parking lot and they sit for nearly an hour talking about projects for their secret knitting circle with the police chief's daughter. As hellfire let's out, Chrissy leaves, and Steve gets to watch as the older members walk his kids to his car, like awkward little nerdy gentlemen. Eddie always hands them off with a flourish and a wink. ("The children, Your Highness," he would say confidently, his three nerds behind him giving him nervous looks. "Perhaps you'll join us next week, my liege?" Steve pretends to be unamused by his theatrics, but Eddie has an infectious grin and a genuinely happy shine to his eyes.)

Season 4, Steve is definitely on edge, twitchy as they search for Eddie. He's worried for Dustin, who is attracted to trouble and smart enough to drag everyone else into it too, but also for Eddie, who occasionally popped by Family Video to talk with Robin. According to Eddie, he's allowed in the break room and behind the counter because he and Robin are "friends of Dorothy". Steve doesn't even know a Dorothy. (Eddie usually waits until Steve walks away in a flustered, confused huff before whispering to Robin, "Dorothy says: be gay, do crime.")

Eddie held a jagged glass bottle to his neck and Steve didn't feel anything. He wasn't scared for his life like the news promised he would be, nor was he angry like he'd expected he would be. Eddie shuffles around nervously, but the only thing Steve feels is concern for him.

He gets dragged through the Watergate and immediately attacked by those godawful bats- he was almost in the boat, they had to help Max, he would not lose his baby sister, and boom, he's back to fighting. He fends them off with the help of Eddie, Robin, and Nancy, all of whom he is furious with for following him into the Upside Down like idiots.

"Harrington's got her. Don't ya, big boy?" Eddie teased, and Steve felt electricity through his whole being. His face flushed red and he stammered an affirmative, not noticing Robin or Eddie as they grinned at each other. Eddie stuck close the entire time they were in the RV, and if Steve didn't know better, he'd say Eddie was flirting with him. But he did know better, there was no way Eddie was flirting. He was on the run and desperate for human interaction.

Separating for the plan was the hardest thing Steve had ever done. While Dustin was getting ready, Steve pulled Eddie aside. "Please keep him safe. I'll do anything you want, just please, don't let anything happen to him," he begged, desperately clutching Eddie's sleeves. "He's my brother, Eddie, I can't lose him-"

"I promise, Steve," Eddie had interrupted. "I'll guard him with my life."

"Guard him with mine," Steve insisted. Eddie didn't get it at first, but it would hit him later that Steve wanted Eddie to keep them both safe.

Steve would never tell a soul, but he liked confronting Vecna. Armed with chemical weapons, Robin stayed a bit behind, but Nancy emptied round after round into One, and Steve? Steve got to use his bat.

It was exhilarating; as much as he hated his anger problems, he could not deny that it felt good to attack the source of all their problems. His arms grew tired after a while, though, and Vecna seemed distracted, disoriented, so Steve resorted to his usual tactics. He never fought fair: biting, scratching, clawing his way to victory in everyday scuffles, there was no way he'd give up this opportunity.

Something in him twists suddenly. He feels sick to his stomach and scared, but he has no idea why. All he can think about is Eddie and Dustin- he's hurt he's hurt he'shurtheshurtheshurt. So he makes the decision to go back; Nancy and Robin technically have the injured Vecna under control. He runs.

Eddie is being swarmed when he makes it to the trailer. One minute, Steve watches as they descend on his friend(?), and the next, he's supporting an injured Eddie as they hobble together to Wayne Munson's truck, Wayne on Eddie's other side and rambling about "what the hell is going on" so similarly to Hop that Steve feels the hollow sting of loss. Later, as they rest in the living room of Steve's empty house, Dustin tells Steve about what he saw: Eddie, going to the ground, unable to fight them off any longer, hope lost and grief already tearing its claws into Dustin's chest, and then out of nowhere Steve appears, covered in bits of vine and rock. He tells Steve about the enraged roar he could hear from the trailer (ten feet behind Dustin as his hobbling came to a stop) and the nail bat that had yet to leave Steve's hand swinging at each assailant with such a precision that, for a brief moment in the chaos, Dusting could hear the sounds of an orchestra playing a symphony, Steve as their ragged, bloodied maestro. He tells Steve about the wild look in Steve's eyes as he carried a half-conscious Eddie into the trailer, snarling about how stupid and careless Eddie was, and how moronic Dustin was for jumping through a gate the way he did. He tells Steve about the stray demobat that burst through the door, how Steve grabbed it with his bare hands and ripped it in half- Dustin's got stars in his eyes as he relays this, even now, days later.

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This kinda got away from me I'm sorry

I'm still new to people wanting to read what I write so I'm just gonna tag the one person I know was also excited about steve being feral: @amoris-no-smut-allowed

#steddie #stranger things headcanons #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie and steve #the party #let steve go apeshit #feral steve #steve can cook #let steve go feral

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