#like let me see my child.... he simply requires kisses on his nose

[everlasting-elegy]

When You Have a Mild Injury (Albedo, Childe, Scaramouche)

Requested by dear 🎎-anon with some alterations by me~ After this I'll actually write the 500 followers requests skdfjslkdf. It's as the title says, when you have a minor injury (think a bruise or notable scratch, something that requires no hospitalisation)

Genre: Modern (College?) AU Word Count: 1.3k

Albedo

Medicine and first aid may not be his area of specialty but it’s likely knowledge he’s accumulated over his life. Albedo is calm and collected upon seeing your injury

He says he doesn’t exaggerate much but he’s still firm when you tell him your state is nothing to fret about. He orders you to take a seat on the couch so that he can prepare the necessary equipment

If you’re insecure about your injury being visible, Albedo will also offer to help cover it up with makeup whenever you prepare to go out. You accepted once out of sheer curiosity, you have no idea when or how Albedo became such a professional with makeup, your injury looking nonexistent

He becomes a mother hen, checking in on you more. If you come back to him with another scratch or bruise while your previous one hasn’t fully healed, he’ll just sigh and shake his head like a disappointed parent

Albedo’s head snapped to you when you broke the silence in his office with a sneeze. You hurriedly apologised, seeing yourself out to blow your nose as not to disturb him further. When your nose was suitably soothed, you re-entered his room, only to be greeted with Albedo sitting straight, looking expectantly at you as he gestured to the paper before him. Standing beside him, you looked at it curiously.

“What’s this?” You asked. Leaning down to get a closer look, Albedo instinctively pulled you onto his lap.

“Just a form I’d like you to fill out for me to keep track of your wellbeing,” he said simply.

“Bedo…” you sighed. “It’s just a little injury, it’s nothing.”

“Yes, but you’ve been showing symptoms of a cold or common flu as of late as well,” Albedo mused. “Correlation doesn’t mean causation, however it is never wrong to take precautions. I don’t want your health to worsen.”

He pressed the end of a ballpoint pen until it clicked, before passing it to you. You stared at his expression as his gaze remained fixed on the form he made. His expression was kept expertly neutral, but you knew better as his arms fastened securely onto your waist, his cheek pressed gently against your shoulder. Noticing your stillness, his eyes flickered up to you, waves of blue shimmering with concern under the light. You couldn’t help but press a quick kiss to his forehead before turning to fill out his form, earning an audible hum from him.

“Thank you, Albedo.”

“No problem, my love.”

Childe

The biggest surprise was how Childe had nothing to do with your current injury. You’ve suffered through plenty of light bruises and scratches with his playful shoving and antics. When Childe sees you tending to your wound, he’s automatically apologising while stifling a laugh

He can also be incredibly cheeky. He’s teasingly pulling you away from sharp edges and corners, sometimes even carrying you since ‘you always get yourself into danger’. Really, he just wants an excuse to touch you

He’ll gladly tend to your injury if you’ll let him. His hands are rough and calloused yet his touch is still light as feathers against your skin. He adores taking care of you, when you thank him he’s practically glowing

Childe tends to be melodramatic when it comes to your wellbeing - and you in general. He definitely told his family about you, his siblings sent you ‘get well soon’ cards and wrote as though you were on death’s doorstep. You were quick to tell them you were alright

“Hey cutie, you single?” You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend’s antics as he entered your place, bags in hand.

“Childe, what are you doing here? I thought you had classes today.”

You followed him as he walked into your kitchen, dropping the grocery bags haphazardly, letting ingredients spill across the table top.

“I told them I couldn’t go,” he shrugged. “I’m busy.”

“Busy with what?” You looked at him incredulously and Childe gasped in mock horror.

“‘With what?’ My partner has been mortally wounded and you’re asking me what I’m busy with?”

“Mortally wounded?” You showed him your injury. “This tiny thing?!”

Childe rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “An injury’s an injury?”

“Just say you didn’t want to go to class,” you turned your back to him, ready to go back to your couch and binge watch whatever’s on.

“Hey, don’t make it sound like that!”

You lurched forward as Childe tackled you into a back hug. Struggling to regain your footing, Childe steadied the both of you as he pressed his cheek into your hair and chest against your spine. “I just wanted to spend time with you, that’s not a sin is it?”

“But lying is,” you retorted.

Parting from you, Childe took your shoulders and turned you to him. His face was dangerously close to yours, lips slightly pouty and eyes wide. After a few seconds you groaned and shoved him away and he let out a victorious cry.

“Damn you and your pretty face,” you muttered and Childe just winked back at you before turning to prepare lunch.

Scaramouche

His initial outward reaction is to be smug. Chances are he likely taunted you, saying he saw this coming given your clumsiness. If it was a sports injury he backhandedly warned you prior, and now look at you hobbling back to him just as he predicted

You can tell him you don’t want to be a bother all you want, Scaramouche is tending to your wound whether you like it or not. The entire time he’s chastising you, telling you how dumb it was for you to get injured, but against his harsh words his hands are nothing but soft and gentle

If the injury was caused by someone, such as someone shoving you or throwing a ball at you, don’t mention their name if you want to keep seeing them around. Scaramouche will give them an earful if he figures out who they are, no matter if the injury was accidental or if they already apologised to you

“Thank you so much for helping me with this worksheet, (Y/N),” an acquaintance of yours whisked you to the local library.

“Don’t worry about it, what are friends for?” You chuckled.

“Just one question.”

“Fire away.”

“Who the hell is he?”

Scaramouche wrinkled his nose at your buddy.

“None of your goddamn business,” Scaramouche sneered as he crossed his arms, leaning closer into you.

“My boyfriend, Scaramouche,” you introduced and Scaramouche only huffed, tilting his hat down to let the shadows obscure his flustered face.

“Boyfriend or guard dog?” Your friend raised their eyebrows.

“Both,” you laughed and Scaramouche slapped your arm lightly.

“What did you do?” Your friend asked curiously. You displayed your healing injury and they started to giggle in response. “He’s all riled up from that?”

“It’s not my fault you can’t look after yourself,” he muttered, completely disregarding your friend and glaring at you. “I can’t even trust you to go outside by yourself. First it’s a scratch, then a bruise, then it’ll be broken bones and hospital unless I intervene. Don’t blame me for your incompetence.”

“Don’t mind him,” you smiled apologetically as you reached down for your bag, your arm accidentally hitting the sharp corner of the desk. You quickly retracted your limb with a stifled hiss but before you could look at it Scaramouche was already cradling your arm and scrutinising it.

“This is what I’m talking about,” Scaramouche chastised. “You’re actually a clumsy fool, you know that, right?”

“He’s very sweet,” you assured and your friend nodded half-heartedly.

Genshin Impact Masterlist

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #albedo x reader #albedo x y/n #albedo x you #childe x reader #childe x y/n #childe x you #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #everelegy genshin #everelegy writes #🎎anon

[ladycatofwinterfell]

Devotion

Summary: He loves his wife so dearly and still he has loved Robert for as long as he can remember. He despises Robert for knocking on their door so late at night and yet he follows him outside

Did someone say nedbert fic? Did someone also say nedcat fic? Probably not but that’s what I have for you. Enjoy!

Catelyn’s skin was so soft as he kissed it. He could feel the smell of her hair as he nuzzled her nose into the crook of her neck. The sweet, somewhat flowery scent. The scent of his lady.

The way she flushed red as he kissed her, it never grew any less lovely. Starting at her cheeks, travelling down her neck and over her chest. It rose and fell with every breath she took, increasing in speed as her breathing quickened. Quick, shallow breaths escaping slightly parted lips. Perfect lips.

Her eyes gleamed as he opened her robe, let his lips run down her chest. Gently he kissed every inch of her that he could reach, ran his tongue over every mark and line that bearing their children had left on her, listened to the way her breath hitched as he hit a spot she liked particularly much. He lingered there until her hands in his hair forced him lower. She had only so much patience.

He placed a kiss just beneath her navel before standing upright again, looking into her eyes.

“I do love that stomach of yours” he told her.

The lines that had turned almost silver since Rickon’s birth never ceased to strike him as the most beautiful thing. He loved how soft all their children had turned her, how one could tell she had given him heirs.

“So put another child in it” she said, smiling. “It would be even more beautiful then.”

She took his hands, slowly backing towards the bed with him following. Never did she look away from him, never did her smile leave her lips.

As she sat on the edge of the bed he kneeled before her. For a moment he turned his face up, drank in the sight of her. Stronger than any wine he had ever tasted. Her hair falling over her shoulders, gleaming like fire in the light of the heart. Her flushed cheeks, her soft smile.

“My love” she sighed. “You are going awfully slow.”

“Am I?”

He placed a quick kiss on the inside of her knee. Barely had he leaned away again before she had woven her fingers into his hair once more. He expected her to bring his mouth to between her legs where she so clearly wanted him to be, but instead she leaned down to kiss him.

“Make love to me” she whispered as they parted. “Please.”

As he stood up and began to undress she shed her robe and threw it to the foot of the bed. Taking one’s clothes off required no large amount of intelligence, but his hands seemed to grow worthless as he looked upon his wife.

Though soon he was in her arms, settling between her legs. Was there a sweeter feeling than the pleasure of their bodies joining? Was there a prettier sound than Catelyn’s soft moan as he pushed inside her? Was there a more beautiful sight than seeing her tilt her head slightly backwards, her lips parted and her eyelids heavy?

The thought barely had time to disappear from his mind before someone knocked on the door.

“My lord, the king–“ began a soft voice.

Desmond was interrupted by a banging on the door so hard Ned for a moment feared it would fall of its hinges.

He heard how Catelyn drew a sharp breath beneath him, though not from pleasure. When he looked at her he noticed she had turned her eyes towards the door, looking at it like a frightened deer.

“Ned!” shouted a man on the other side.

There was no mistaking Robert’s voice. If only Robert had not been king. If only he had been the man Ned knew in his youth, the friend he had grown up alongside. If only he had been simply Robert.

“I know you’re in there!”

Catelyn had pushed him off her before he had time to move himself.

“What an honour to have the king knocking on my door” she muttered as she reached for her robe again. “I wonder whatever reason he could have for it.”

Ned had to walk naked through the chamber to take his own robe from the wardrobe. After having wrapped it around himself he threw a glance at Catelyn to make sure she was covered. She was once again sitting on the edge of the bed, that time with the robe completely covering her body and a rather disgruntled look on her face. Her hair was still somewhat messy from the pillows.

“Good evening, Your Grace” Ned said as he opened the door. “How come you knock on my wife’s chamber door so late at night?”

“I want to speak with her husband.”

Despite that it was so late at night Robert did not appear to be drunk. There was not even a slight slur as he spoke, he didn’t sway on his feet. During the king’s time in Winterfell he hadn’t been sober once, at least as far as Ned was aware.

It was strange to see him so calm after he had almost beaten the door off its hinges. Maybe he just didn’t know how to properly knock. There was so much force in him.

“Can we not speak on the morrow?” Ned asked.

He would rather go back to his bed and his wife. Most nights he spent with her he made sure they knew he would rather not be disturbed. Not always because there was something to interrupt the way Robert had, but because he enjoyed having a calm night with his lady. At that very moment all he wished was that Robert had respected what poor Desmond told him. It had been almost two weeks since he and Catelyn had last found peace enough to lay with each other.

“I’m the king and I want to speak with you now.”

“I’m sure my lady wife–“ he began, only to be betrayed by the lady wife in question.

Catelyn had left the bed and moved to stand beside him. He could feel her place a hand on his lower back.

“He’s all yours, Your Grace” she said.

Her hand on his back said something else. Though she had little choice. Robert was a king. Ned could protest because the king was his friend, she could not. He wished she had let him talk Robert out of it.

“Might he dress first?” Ned asked.

If he was to leave the chamber he wanted more clothes than a robe.

Robert looked at him for a moment, his eyes turning downwards as if he hadn’t really noticed Ned was wearing nothing but his robe.

“In this seven times damned cold you’d freeze your cock off if you didn’t. And we wouldn’t want that, would we, Catelyn?”

Ned was surprised at the chuckle that came from his wife at that.

“No, it would pain me” she said.

Catelyn had never been ashamed of particularly much, merely proper. Aware of how she presented herself without being dismayed at most everything. His sometimes rather bawdy lords had taken a liking to her quickly after she became their lady. And still Ned was taken aback by her reaction.

“Not more than it would pain me” he told her.

Robert laughed at that. His laugh was as loud and booming as ever, even as he wasn’t drunk.

If he had to choose there were other parts of him he would rather lose to frostbite. A couple of fingers he could do without, he’d like to keep his manhood.

“I’d have to dress in black for mourning” Catelyn said.

Once again Robert laughed. Ned could feel himself smiling, somewhat against his will. Catelyn gave him a look that tattled on just how satisfied she was with herself at the moment before drawing back into the room again. As he looked at Robert again he heard how she opened a drawer of her dressing table.

“Black never was my wife’s colour so to spare her from having to wear it I’ll get dressed” he told Robert. “I shall be with you shortly.”

“I’ll be waiting for you outside the keep.”

He only had time to close the door and turn back to face the room again before Catelyn’s lips were on his. One hand in his hair and the other opening his robe again.

“What are you doing?” Ned managed to get out.

“Twice he’s taken you from me, and soon he’s doing it again” Catelyn said rather firmly. “He can wait a little while, it will not kill him.”

“You want me to go south with him.”

Even before Lysa’s letter she had urged him to go, told him it was necessary. For the future of their house, for all it could give them, he had to go south. And after the letter it was to protect Robert and uncover the truth.

“I wish he had never come here, but I know you have to go. You couldn’t refuse his offer.”

He leaned down to catch her lips in another kiss. They had already spoken about it, he felt no desire to do so again. And it would be unwise to keep Robert waiting for too long. Catelyn seemed to agree with him.

The sense of urgency took the enjoyment out of it, at least for him. And he noticed as he tried to make Catelyn reach her pleasure with a hand that it took much longer than it usually did. The frustration was apparent on her face even after he managed to touch her in a way that made her come undone. As she pushed him to his back and straddled him it was hard to think of anything but that she didn’t look very satisfied.

“Catelyn, we don’t–“ he began.

If she didn’t want it he didn’t want to do it.

“No, I need it.”

He couldn’t remember it having been so bad since they grew close with each other. Since it had been so much more duty than pleasure. His body told him it felt good but his mind seemed to be of a different opinion, he had to focus to be able to come at all. Even as she seemed to use every trick she knew.

They stay joined for a moment after he had finished and Catelyn seemed to soften then. As she leaned down and kissed him before moving away. He was glad for that kiss.

Ned was silent as he dressed, his wife was just as silent. She pulled the furs over herself and turned her back to him, he would have believed her to be asleep if it hadn’t been for that her breathing was wrong. It had started so good, he had liked it so much, slowly taking in every inch of her. Then it had all been ruined. He felt somewhat filthy for a reason he could not say.

“I will not object should you wake me upon your return” she mumbled just as he was about to leave. “If that is your wish, of course.”

Usually those words would have him seeing the beauty of it before him. His mind spinning, dreaming of how he would come back to find her still wet and wanting for him, how he would take her again. He would most likely feel it later. When he came back knowing what she had promised him.

“Hopefully I won’t be long.”

The sky was clear above them, the moon and the stars watching over the castle. The clear nights were the coldest, whatever reason could Robert have for wanting to go outside? He had done nothing but complain about cold and summer snows since he arrived there.

Robert stood and looked up at the starry sky with a member of his king’s guard next to him. Only as Ned came closer to them did he see it was Ser Jaime. One could never escape the damn Lannisters.

“Robert” Ned said.

He had meant to call him by his royal title, but his name was what had escaped. It seemed he would never get used to it.

“Leave us, Ser Jaime” Robert said instead of greeting Ned in return.

“Your Grace, it is my duty to–“

“Ned, when was someone last murdered within your castle walls?”

Then Robert looked down at him, his eyes could have been stars. He had been so handsome once, what had happened? Was it the throne that had made him so or had it been inevitable? Was it grief over what had happened during the war that had made him resort to drinking? Or had he always been to fond of the pleasures of life?

“Hasn’t happened during my time as lord” Ned responded. “Not in my lifetime, I believe.”

Not that he could remember. Though there had been no kings to visit in his lifetime.

“And do you believe your people to be loyal to their king?”

He knew the people of his castle, almost as if they were his own blood. They wouldn’t harm a king, even a southern one.

“I do.”

“Listen to Lord Stark and leave us.”

The hand that rested on the hilt of his sword seemed to grip a little tighter.

“Yes, my king.”

The bitterness in Jaime’s voice shone through, at least to Ned.

Robert began walking away, seemingly without a clear plan as to where. Ned followed him, but glanced over his shoulder at Ser Jaime. He had moved to stand by the doors to the keep together with the household guards, seemingly opting to not go inside. He had to be cold in that armour, it wasn’t meant for the North.

“Cersei has started asking to return south sooner than planned” Robert told him.

“I’m not surprised.”

While she remained civil at least in front of Catelyn she had also made it no secret that she disliked the north. Too cold, too dull, too stern. Without colour and life. Ned would have taken offence if it hadn’t been for that many people of the south shared her opinion.

“She’s a thorn in my side, the golden bitch.”

“And still you need her.”

Robert might have disliked his queen, but she was still his queen. Her children were Robert’s heirs, the eldest would be king after him.

“I need her family’s money.”

That couldn’t be denied.

“Do you love Catelyn?” Robert then asked.

Was there another word for it? She was his Cat, had been so for years. He appreciated her company more than anyone else’s, didn’t see the appeal in other people’s beds anymore. She was the one he desired, the one he felt safe with. It had been that way for years.

“I do” he said.

After all their years together, after everything they had slowly built, how could he not? They had made children, given each other love.

“You didn’t marry her for love.”

“No, I didn’t.”

He had married her for her father’s armies. The rest had come later. Of course he hadn’t been happy about leaving her behind in Riverrun during the rebellion, she was his wife after all, but he hadn’t really missed her. When he left her to beat back the Greyjoys as she was expecting Arya it had hurt. He had missed her, spent the nights thinking about the day when he could be back in her arms again.

“When did you know it was love?”

Maybe during the Greyjoy rebellion. Maybe when she placed Sansa in his arms for the first time. Maybe when she kissed him after he told her he was to build her a sept. Maybe when he returned from the Greyjoy rebellion and they made love to each other from sunset to sunrise.

“You have an awful lot of questions.”

And Ned didn’t have an answer to all of them. When had he known it was love? He couldn’t say. He couldn’t remember the first time he had thought of that he loved her. He couldn’t remember first time he had told her he loved her. He just knew he did.

“It feels unfair you get to love your wife while mine gives me nothing but hell” was Robert’s response to that.

“You are free to love whoever you wish, you’re the king” Ned reminded him. “And your queen has given you children, they cannot possibly be hell.”

“You get to be happy in your marriage, you don’t understand.”

No, he didn’t understand. He was aware of that Cersei Lannister wasn’t as sweet as she looked, he understood Robert wasn’t happy with her. But the misery of their existence together that he had glimpsed during their time in Winterfell, that he didn’t understand.

“Your marriage to her certainly hasn’t stopped you from looking elsewhere.”

Ned almost believed the whores in Wintertown had grown richer than he was during the royal visit. According to Catelyn both Tyrion Lannister and the king were generous in their payments. She had overheard it from two of the women in the kitchen as she went there to search for Bran and Rickon. ‘Soon we’ll be able to raise the taxes without them complaining’ she had muttered.

“Though I will never share a life with someone worth loving. The fucking Targaryens took that from me.”

In the end everything always came back to Lyanna. No matter where they turned, no matter where they walked, it was always her. And even she was just a fantasy for him. She hadn’t wanted to marry him, especially not after he had his first bastard.

“You didn’t know her like I did” Ned said. “You don’t know what they took from you.”

He braced himself for the anger that would flare up in Robert as he said it, though nothing came. The fury of the Baratheons stayed calm.

“We should have been family, you and I. Not spend the rest of our lives apart from one another. You up here, buried beneath winter snows and I stuck in that city forsaken by the gods.”

As they turned around a corner Robert stopped and looked at Ned once more. A visible shiver went through his body and he wrapped his cloak tighter around himself. It must have been the largest cloak Ned had ever seen. Golden with a crowned black stag embroidered on it. A cloak for for a king.

“When you return to that city I’m coming with you.”

Not because he wanted to, but because he had to. He didn’t want to leave Catelyn and two of his sons behind in Winterfell, he would despise every moment of it. King’s Landing wasn’t where he belonged. Though still there was a small joy in knowing it would mean less of a burden for his friend. He had known Robert since they were boys, loved Robert since they were boys.

“That’s the only relief I have” Robert chuckled. “Knowing it will be you and I again. Gods, those were better times.”

“Well, they were certainly easier.”

Everything had been so easy. Spending their days doing whatever they wanted, taking every chance they got to drive Jon halfway to madness. He was sure Catelyn would have been wide eye and stuttering had she got to know half of it.

“Less of a charm to it now that Jon won’t be there to yell at us when we take things too far” he added.

“In his last years it was mostly the other way around, but damn I miss the man.”

And Ned hadn’t even been there when he died. It had been years since the last time he saw Jon Arryn. And now Jon Arryn was dead and all that remained of his youth was Robert.

“As do I.”

Ned looked up at the clear sky above them, at the stars. Did Jon look down on them from one of the seven heavens he had believed in? Did he know? Did he fear for Robert as Ned did?

Suddenly Robert had taken him by the arm and forced him to look down again.

“I’ll never let you leave me again, Ned” he said.

“Was it me who left you? I’m not the one who came out of the war a king.”

“You left me down south.”

“I became Lord of Winterfell, I had no choice.”

“You could have had a seat on my council.”

“And who was to govern the North? My boy of less than a year? My southron bride?”

“I don’t care, damnit, I care about having you by my side.”

“And I will be.”

Many years ago they had walked different paths and Ned had been sure of that he would never be side by side with Robert again. Though there he stood with Robert holding his arm. There was a desperation for in his eyes Ned could not recall having ever seen before. Anger, joy, grief, lust, fear, he had seen it all. But he hadn’t seen desperation.

There were traces of the beauty he had possessed in his youth still left in him. His eyes were the same, clear and blue. His hair and beard black as coal. As Robert held his arm they were so close to each other their breaths became one cloud between them when they looked at each other.

“Like when we were young” Robert said.

“Like when we were young.”

Except for that it was different, so very different. Or maybe it was Ned that remembered it wrong. Neither of them were shaven clean anymore, and Robert’s body against his didn’t immediately feel right. It could have been all the years with Catelyn that made it so. Though they were not so unlike each other, there was a hunger in them.

Robert moved his hands to Ned’s shoulders as they kissed, held onto him as if he would suddenly disappear. Ned didn’t know when he had grabbed the front of Robert’s clothes, burying his fists in the fabric, he just knew he was doing it.

He was the king’s man, was he not? The king’s hand. What was he to do if not serve? If not show Robert his devotion?

Before he knew it Robert’s hands on his shoulders had pushed him down on his knees. Gods, he was strong. Not as strong as he had been when they were young, but still enough for it to be impressive. Strong enough for Ned to be in awe.

It had been so long since Ned kneeled for a man. Since he had wed Catelyn he had stayed loyal to her, even if he in the beginning had been somewhat put off by the idea of her. She was a woman, he had never been very drawn to them. Though he had found that women worked as well as men, at least she did. She was the only woman he had ever been with. The only one he had loved.

Still he didn’t hesitate, moved his hands up to undo the laces of Robert’s breeches. With his gloves on it was somewhat hard, but he managed it. He knew neither of them could take off their gloves in the cold, but he would have liked to feel the roughness of Robert’s hands again.

He was already hard when Ned wrapped his hand around the base of his cock and took the tip into his mouth. The taste of salt as he licked off the fluid that had already spilled from him was somehow surprising. He had forgotten he somehow enjoyed it.

Robert grabbed his hair, forced him to take him deeper. He had to suppress the urge to gag, stopped for a moment to breathe through his nose so that he wouldn’t suffocate. He was rusty.

Though Robert didn’t seem to have anything to complain about. At least as far as Ned could tell from the sounds he made when he began moving his head. Running his lips and tongue up and down his cock.

Robert was rather rough, didn’t seem to consider Ned’s comfort at all, he didn’t care so much. He had always been rough, Ned had never minded. As he came close to reaching his pleasure he began thrusting into Ned’s mouth and once again he almost gagged. For a moment he wondered what it was that made him different from the whores of Wintertown then and there. Could it be anything but love?

“Ned” Robert groaned, tightening the grip on his hair.

Then Ned moved away, sitting back on his heels. He was out of breath as he looked up at the king.

“I’m too old to swallow” he told him.

His knees were aching. Soft snow covered the ground and still it hurt to kneel. His neck had also seen better days. Since last time he had grown old.

Robert finished himself with a hand as Ned found his feet again. As it was all over he felt cold. He had left Catelyn in her bedchamber only to go and do that. And while he couldn’t say he had not enjoyed it he knew it was all wrong.

“Too old to swallow, but the years have not taken your skilled tongue from you” Robert said, sounding just as out of breath.

“I have maintained it.”

He bent down to brush snow from his clothes. It had already began to melt, leaving wet patches on him.

Catelyn was also rather fond of his tongue and he didn’t mind using it. There was a pleasure in pleasing, in tasting and listening to what it made the other feel.

“I don’t know if I envy you or Cat more.”

Ned was fairly certain of that he himself didn’t envy neither Robert nor Cersei in the least. He missed Robert, he did. Though was it right? What he had done, was it the right thing? Most likely not. But then and there it had felt good.

“Why would you envy her?”

“Your hers, are you not?”

Ned had never known Robert to hesitate about taking what he wanted. Why was he saying that when he had already taken Ned? He was leaving his home, his wife, to serve Robert.

He couldn’t look at Robert any longer, turned his back to him. He waited until the king had laced up his breeches before he began walking back towards the keep. The night didn’t seem so pleasant anymore, the stars must have judged him.

Robert followed him, silent for once. All Ned heard was his heavy steps, the snow that creaked under his feet.

Ser Jaime was still standing by the doors to the keep, Ned didn’t look at him as one of the guards opened the door so he could enter.

“The bear, the bear, and the maiden fair” Jaime muttered as Ned passed him.

“Better that than a kingslayer.”

All the way up until when he was about to pass her door he was certain of that he was walking towards his own bedchamber. He could not join her in her bed after having pleasured the king with his mouth. Though she had to be asleep by then. He knew his wife, she had probably been asleep before he had closed the door behind him. He didn’t want to be alone. It was selfish.

Just as he had suspected Catelyn was asleep when he entered her chamber. Curled up underneath the furs, just as she had been when he left her. Lost in her peaceful slumber, unknowing. His wife, his Catelyn. What had he done?

He undressed as quietly as he could, did everything to avoid waking her despite that he knew she always slept heavily. Ever since Rickon no longer needed her attention at night she had been near impossible to accidentally wake.

He didn’t take her into his arms, merely slipped into the bed beside her and turned his back to her. It would have felt wrong to do so as if nothing had happened. Though of course he had barely settled before she had turned to him in her sleep and laid an arm over him, her hand resting on his chest. He couldn’t bring himself to push her away even as the betrayal hung over him like a sword above a doomed man’s neck. Instead he took her hand, weaved their fingers together, held them over his heart. The familiarity of it was almost overwhelming. How was he to survive leaving her behind in Winterfell?

“Too tired?” she sighed.

It took a moment for him to realise she was awake, that she was not merely mumbling in her sleep.

“Exhausted” he responded gently.

She moved even closer to him, pressed herself against him. Even as she had been beneath the furs she was cold.

“Me too.”

He felt how she placed a gentle kiss on his neck before letting her head rest against the pillows again. A moment later she had drifted off to sleep once more.

She had told Robert Ned was all his, that was most likely not what she had meant.

#catelyn stark #ned stark #ned x cat #robert baratheon #nedbert #ned x robert #my fic #i really like how this turned out so i hope you will like it as well #not the most positive ive written perhaps but still worth the read (in my not so humble opinion) #ned’s relationships with those closest to him fascinates me

[sweater-equestrian]

cant wait to have my own place someday. been agoraphobic and dealing with schizophrenia big time the past few days and thus cannot drive out to the barn (I can't drive when I'm struggling with reality because its simply not safe). But I really miss my boy :(

#idk if ill ever be able to have my own horse on my own land but like. if i ever even have chickens rabbits goats etc #as outdoor pets... id want to have my own land yanno #idk i think id be better at caring for my animals if i was on property all the time #like on nice days id totally just go out and sit by them yanno #idk its hard to miss a pet but not be able to leave the house bc of ur health #like let me see my child.... he simply requires kisses on his nose

[asimpletroll]

(A) (M) Chisaki Kai X (O) (F) Reader

You?

You were the Omega who had been stinking up his base for the last month?

YOU?

"-so sorry, so so sorry, I didn't see you, I was looking for Eri, Rappa startled her again, I swear I didn't mean to bump you-" You babble at Chisaki, close to your heat and scared of every Alpha in the base at the moment. You don't realize how his eyes have zeroed in on you, you're too busy cowering against the wall, trying to apologize and make sure he doesn't hit you, or worse.

"Be quiet." You immediately shut up, your throat feeling constricted even though he didn't use his Alpha tone or his Quirk on you, you look at him with watering (e/c) orbs as he strides over, taking off his coat slowly. "Your slick is dripping. I'll have someone else look for Eri, you need to get to your nest."

"...I...I live in the barracks, I-I can't-"

"Then come with me." He wraps an arm around you with care he never uses, making sure to keep his coat (you're so small it drops nearly to your knees, and Chisaki is swooning on the inside at how cute you look) between the two of you and wrapped securely around you so that no one else sees your current...predicament.

Chisaki notices your fear increasing, almost every step towards his private wing making you pump out more and more fear in your scent.

Normally, he can't even smell you, which is mildly disappointing to him because you smell citrus-y and a little sweet, but it was always very subtle and clean.

Now, all he could smell was your fear, and the urge to hole you away from everyone and everything was making him very twitchy as he opens the door to his wing.

You instinctively pause upon the threshold, your Omega screaming that this means this Alpha likes you, that it was time to Mate. Chisaki waits for you patiently, knowing the battle you're fighting and being fascinated by the micro-expressions racing through you. Your pupils twitch slightly in every which way, your ears perk and shift a little with noises, and your nose wrinkles a little (like the bunny he had as a child would) as you get particularly stressed.

"I cannot find you someplace comfortable if we loiter for much longer." He finally speaks up and tells you, you flinch a little, but follow his unmentioned command of 'hurry up' and almost bump into him again as he closes the door.

As soon as it shuts, lights flick on, and this time he gently wraps an arm around your waist as you spook. He gently lets you recover from your heart attack adjust to his touch, then guides you past several rooms that reek of other Alphas to you, and the locks on the door along with how reinforced they are tell you all you need to know about what might be in those rooms.

"I am unfamiliar with creating a space for a Heat, but I understand you require lots of blankets and soft things?" Chisaki asks you lowly, he spots the tiny hairs on the back of your neck rising, and your own scent smells sweeter, even with the fear overlaying it.

"Yes." You whisper, and try to hide (due to his lack of comment, you guess you hide it) the fact that you get mildly horny at just his voice.

Chisaki is amused by this, mostly by the fact that your entire face had turned red and was a very clear indicator of your dilemma to him.

"Why are you so afraid, Omega?" He asks you conversationally, as if he had by total and complete accident of course not dropped his voice several octaves just fool with you. You repress a shiver, and he grins under his mask, a very feral and smug grin, as he gently inhales your sweetened scent a bit more.

"M-My parents...they didn't...didn't want an Omega...didn't want me...so they would destroy my nests...even before I was revealed to be Quirkless..." You murmur quietly, timidly almost, to him, and he feels himself harden at how perfect you were for him.

"Why would they do that? Children smaller than four years old require softness or they are in danger of chewing something into pieces or eating it whole." Chisaki keeps his voice low, loving how you try and repress another shiver, and your pheromones almost choke him as he tries to gently sniff them again.

If you two didn't find an appropriate area soon, he may simply take you to his den, which would be twice as dangerous for the both of you.

"I...I don't know...it was...mildly better...after my little brother was born. He was a boy, an Alpha too, and he had a Quirk." You tell him, trying to make your clenching pelvic muscles stop their ridiculousness. Chisaki is too busy rolling his eyes to notice that you're starting to hold on to his coat a little tighter to try and hide the fact that your pants are officially soaked through.

"Oh...they're those types of people..." Chisaki says, his voice the lowest yet in barely-withheld rage, and a pitched whine escapes you before you wrap a hand around the base of your throat. Chisaki almost walks into a wall in surprise, you immediately sidestep as he steadies himself.

"I'm sorry-" You immediately return to the babbling mess you were in the hall, trying to appease him when even you can tell he isn't angry, in fact, if the crinkles by his eyes are any indicator, he's smiling under his mask.

But you're scared. And horny. So you run your mouth without thinking, apologizing frantically before he gently wraps his arm around your waist, he gently tugs you close to him, you keep your eyes averted and lowered to the floor, but he removes his face mask entirely in order to kiss your forehead gently.

You clench the hand around your throat tighter as he re-places his mask back on his face, he then runs a hand through your short hair tenderly. You look up at him from under your eyebrows, your lashes dark and long and thick as they frame your gorgeous (e/c) orbs.

"You simply startled me, there is no reason to apologize." He rumbles to you, his voice much lower now as his Alpha starts to really push for some attention. He watches with amusement and arousal as you clench your legs together, the slick now dripping low enough for him to see it, even with his jacket around you. "But may I ask you something?"

"Y-Yes, sir." You squeak, Chisaki goes from hard to full-blown, raging erection, you can barely hear him inhale, a very subtle noise that doesn't quite click in your mind until he presses the two of you together.

"...have you ever had an Alpha before?" He purrs, your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head and all the fear leaves you immediately as you melt into him. "I'm guessing not."

"N-None o-of them-" You squeak slightly in indignation as Chisaki plucks you up from the floor like a ragdoll, gathering you into his chest and not minding your wet and sticky slick soaking into his chest. "-None of them ever w-wanted a Q-Quirkless Omega."

Chisaki is immediately disappointed, not in you or anything about you, but at the rest of society for letting such a sweet and pure thing sink so low as him.

"They were fools then, and did not deserve you." Chisaki turns down a hall, and it's getting very hard for you to not nuzzle him. His musky, beautiful scent was everything you've ever liked, blended together in such a complex way you couldn't describe all of the unique notes and subtle tones of it. Chisaki notices you eyeing his neck and gently presses your face into it, you let out a startled, but pleasantly so, squeak, and he purrs for real this time at the adorable noise.

Your slick surges and you let out a much higher-pitched purr, leaning in against him as he opens a door quietly, the hall light flicks off and leaves you in darkness before Chisaki gently closes the door with his heel. You've buried your face in his neck, blinding yourself to the fact that Chisaki has brought you to his room, his den and haven.

At least, until his no-longer-gloved hands sneak their way under his jacket, undoing a single button on your shirt to lay themselves on your bare waist. You gasp softly in surprise, moving your face from his neck just enough to give him a startled look.

He nuzzles you, closing his eyes and leaning his back against the door as he openly relaxes, holding you close while gently fondling your slightly-chubby-but-not-noticeably waist.

"C-Chisaki?" You squeak, one of his hands immediately rolls your shirt up and off of you, you squeak again in surprise, but he tossing your shirt and his coat haphazardly onto the floor. You immediately cover your breasts, your face once again blushing strongly, and he quickly does away with his masks as well, hanging them on a hook by the door as he gently turns your face to his by tenderly grasping your chin.

"I want you, Omega. I want you, (Y/N)." He rumbles, striding forward as you turn into a flustered, slicking, horny mess in his arms. His voice is like pure sex but only the deep, tasteful, romantic parts of it.

You mewl a little as he gently places you on his bed, but he rests his arms by your head and kisses you deeply, swallowing anymore noise with tenderness and care. You forget about your embarrassment as he gently move his lips against yours, his cock straining against his pants and pressing up against your legs a bit as he leans over you.

"Do you want me also?" Chisaki murmurs to you once the two of you run out of air to suck from each other's lungs, you immediately wrap yourself around him tightly. "Do you want me like I want you, (Y/N)?"

"Yes, Chisaki, yes I want you-" You don't get another words out as he kisses you again, his hands easily finding and undoing your bra before starting on the buttons of his shirt. Once you run out of air, he starts kissing the underside of your jaw as you pant quietly, he has to pause (his frustration visible) in order to pull his shirt off. You immediately touch the intricate, but traditional tattoos on his arms, pecs, and (you're willing to bet) his back. "You're so pretty, Chisaki."

"So are you, (Y/N), you just don't have art to paw at." He purrs as he descends on you again, you happily undo his tie for him as he kisses you, and the fact that you fumble with it from the distraction of kissing is adorable to him, and he can feel a small wet patch grow do to his leaking precum. You two pause again, and he attacks your throat and neck with powerful sucks and languid swipes of his tongue as you grind your clothed sex against his.

You gasp quietly when he whips your bra across the room, but he gently fondles one breast and you turn into a melty mess again. He chuckles, happily going back to his network of hickies trailing down your throat and across your shoulder. You happily tangle your hands in his hair, pressing him against you further with soft mewls of encouragement.

"A-Alpha, stop teasing!" You finally reach your breaking point, Chisaki almost rips your dress slacks in his immediately eagerness to get them off of you, you giggle a little and he blushes, burying his face in your neck before you tempt him out with kisses to his cheekbone and nose and the tip of his ear.

Then he actually rips them, his face morphing into one of shock and embarrassment as you giggle loudly and nuzzle him. He mumbles a hasty apology before eagerly pulling them off you, taking your panties with and tossing the mess by the foot of the bed before crawling up your body and trailing lazy kisses up from your bellybutton.

"Why are your pants still on?" You tease, kissing his nose before he can reply, he nips your bottom lip playfully, stilling feeling you up as you squirm gently.

"So impatient, (Y/N)." He teases right back, gently tugging on one of your nipples, you steal another kiss from him as he other hand (that is not forming a bruise on your nipple, not at all, no siree) trails down and teasingly circles your puffy little clit. You gasp in surprise, and Chisaki happily presses forward and slips his tongue and one finger into you at the same time. You melt into a happy, horny, submissive puddle under him, causing him to let out a deep and rumbling purr as he explores your mouth with fervent heat and dominance.

He gently explores your opening too, feeling you flutter around that single digit and getting painfully hard in his pants as he stretches you around a second finger. Your slick makes it easier, but it's still painfully obvious that you are still new at this. (So is Chisaki, but he's hoping you're too horny and heat-addled to realize this.)

You eagerly spread your legs a little, beyond ready for this part as your fingers once again find their way into Chisaki's well-kept hair and tangling it. You moan as his two fingers start to gently stretch you, you can feel Chisaki smile into the kiss a little before it goes from 'romantic exploring' into a creature of teeth and tongue and lots of purring from you both.

Unfortunately, Chisaki knows that you still need prepping, and as much as he enjoys the savage kiss, he separates to let you breathe and whimper and mewl as he continues to stretch you. (Both of you think this is taking a while, but this hasn't even been ten minutes since your butt hit his mattress.)

You surprise him when you nip his ear, but he happily turns your head and sucks on the tender skin underneath one of yours, returning you to the panting, mewling puddle. Your slick has surged so many times, his entire hand is covered up to his wrist, and he hasn't even gotten knuckle-deep yet.

"Such a messy Omega, (Y/N), look at what your naughty cunt has done to my hand." Chisaki purrs absolute filth into your ear, and your eyes roll slightly as you let out a porn star-worthy moan, his hips grind up against you exposed inner thigh roughly as he lets out a possessive growl. "Tell me, my messy Omega, who's making you so wet?"

"You, Chisaki, you are, Alpha!" You mewl, he slips a third finger in, starting to actually move deeper into you as you moan again, he happily continues to dirty-talk in your ear, telling you that this would have happened a lot sooner if you had told him that you were an Omega, he would have gladly bent his little nanny over his desk anytime. Or maybe he should've made you Present yourself to him, without any pesky suppressants to quell your scent, then he would've seen what a messy little cunt that hide itself in such a clean, proper suit would've been capable of.

Or maybe he should open the door, let the entire base hear you get railed.

You dissolve under him, not realizing that he's dissolving right with you, pulling his head closer to you as he finally extracts his fingers and simply Overhauls the rest of his clothes off. (Speaking of, where are your shoes? You swore you had them on in the hall, but your feet are bare now.)

"(Y/N), this may sting." Chisaki whispers into your ear, his head nudging your entrance gently, you tuck your face into his neck tightly, but you aren't afraid, simply nervous.

It does sting, but only enough to make you gasp a little, and that gasp is mostly from shock at Chisaki's sheer size. His girth and length were both big, and while he knows you've never had an Alpha before, this still made his already huge ego blimp.

"Chisaki, Alpha, you're huge." You pant into his neck, he struggles to fit himself into you, and you can feel the veins throbbing against your walls as he slowly sinks in, inch by inch, and you mewl once he reaches your G-spot. You pant against his skin as he slowly bottoms out in you, you can feel him twitching inside of you, but you were seeing stars anyway. "A-Alpha-"

"Sh, (Y/N), you need to adjust, Omega." He purrs into your ear, but his cock twitches strongly inside you at the thought of wrecking you severely, to where no man or Alpha could ever satisfy you again. "You're like a vice, Omega, you're squeezing me so tightly. What will happen when I blow my knot, hm? You're so small, I could break you in half with it."

You let out a sinful noise that Chisaki can barely recognize as an orgasm as you sink your teeth into his neck a little. You wrap your legs around his slim waist, anchoring him to you as your walls try to milk him through your orgasm.

"I can't wait for that sound to be my name, to hear you scream so hard the walls rattle-" This kick-starts his dirty-talk again as you slowly calm down, occasionally he shifts his hips, stimulating you just enough for you to know he's teasing you again. You actually clamp down on him and he buries his face in your shoulder with a groan that could make millions, and he slowly grinds against you.

"Naughty Omega, you naughty, naughty Omega." He rumbles from your shoulder, you pant happily in his ear, every deep, slow roll of his hip making you see stars all over again. "I should punish you for that, you naughty thing."

"Then punish me." You pant in his ear, the lick up the shell of it as he groans again, pushing a little harder against you this roll, "Punish me Alpha, make me regret teasing you."

Chisaki rumbles, he drags his hips out, and you expect another languid roll that hits all the right places, but he slams into you like a bullet-train instead.

You try to gasp in surprise, but he smirks against you skin, and that is the only warning you have before he starts pistoning his hips into yours at barely-human speeds.

"Gladly, Omega."

~

You open your eyes, sprawled out across Ch-Kai's chest, your face nuzzled under his chin softly as he continues to sleep while fully sheathed in you. You blink slowly and lazily a few times, trying to remember what day it is, and yawn quietly as you ponder. Kai shifts under you slightly as he stirs, you gently press your face back into the comfortable position you two had.

"How long have you been awake, (Y/N)?" He purrs at you, gently nuzzling you back as you yawn quietly against his throat. "Not long, sleepy-head?"

"Of course not, or I would've brought food." You sit up a little, your fresh Mating Mark stinging slightly as part of the coverlet falls off that shoulder. Kai gently licks it, you hum and kiss the side of his face gently. "If my math is right, today is Kurono's turn to make breakfast, he usually does something simple, like Omurice."

"Yes, but breakfast requires getting out of bed." Kai mutters, gently pulling you back down on his chest, you muffle a laugh at him as he settles his chin on the top of your head. "What? Eri was right when she called you the perfect cuddle-partner, as it turns out."

#soft #chisaki kai #kai chisaki #bnha villains #overhaul #bnha smut #mha smut #villain smut #overhaul smut #omegaverse #bnha omegaverse #a/b/o

[aminiatureworld]

Enigmatic Feelings II

Characters: Beidou, Childe, Eula, gn!reader

Word Count: 5,402

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: In which the reader’s s/o is jealous

Author’s Note: Decided to tack on two characters to the request. This is my first time writing for Eula, and I think this prompt really fit her. She really reminds me of Kaguya Shinomiya in mindset, which is kinda hilarious. I hope I wrote her well!

In case you’re wondering, I kept all the NPCs gender neutral so that the reader might interpret them as they wish.

Beidou

Beidou and her crew tended to get drunk. Like, a lot. Rowdy parties soaked in alcohol, audible from Guyun Stone Forest to Qingce Village were simply part of ship culture. Though they might’ve been loud and somewhat disorganized, there was never any sense of overstepping boundaries, and things never ended up going too far.

Or at least that’s what Beidou would’ve liked to think. Watching you and another shipmate moseying up to one another was a surprisingly unpleasant experience, and Beidou took another swig of her flask to wash out the acidic taste in the back of her mouth.

What did it even matter if someone was flirting with you? It was the end of a long haul, emotions were running high, and everyone knew that you were the captain’s partner. Everyone knew that nothing serious would come of a little flirting, and the occasional compliment or teasing remark towards you here and there had never really bothered Beidou before. She wasn’t about to be jealous of a few flirty shipmates; after all, the ability to sweet talk should probably be a requirement for signing up for piracy anyways.

Maybe it was just how blatant the flirting was, so different than the usual passing, good-natured banter. Beidou knew how well each of her shipmates could hold their liquor. She also knew how quickly norms and rules tended to be thrown out the window the moment one got plastered. Even if the shipmate meant nothing truly malicious or devious in their words, Beidou couldn’t rule out the fact that they were probably genuinely flirting.

Neither could she ignore the fact that you were distinctly flirting back. Beidou wasn’t really surprised by this turn of events, after all you’d always responded with a good natured tease at the remarks flown you way and even engaged in some meaningless flirting yourself towards the other members of the ship. It was part of ship culture after all, to be so open and careless. The sea was never calm or placid, why should her voyagers be so? Still, Beidou couldn’t deny the fact that she was uncomfortable by the current situation, protocol be damned.

A part of her wanted to go up and tell you right out; you were her partner, and she was sure that you’d be able to understand what she was feeling. Yet pride kept her at her seat, downing more liquor to distract herself from her conundrum. After all, it’d be kind of hypocritical of her to cultivate a familiar ship culture and then turn around and revoke it at the drop of a hat, wouldn’t it? Nor would it feel right to enforce rules upon others that she herself didn’t follow. It’s not like Beidou hadn’t ever flirted with or teased someone else without thinking too much about it. How could she blame her crew for following her example?

Still the sight of you and your shipmate danced in front of her eyes, urging her to do something she’d surely regret. Beidou let out a loud sigh, something that wasn’t ignored by the people around her.

“You alright captain?” Juza eyed Beidou worriedly. One of the other hard drinkers on the ship, Beidou knew that she couldn’t rely on alcohol to allay her Chief Mate’s worries.

“I’m fine!” She spoke loudly, plastering a large grin upon her face. “I was just thinking about how proud I am of all of you! How much of a tight-knit crew we are!”

Beidou could tell that she was garnering the attention of the rest of the shipmates and stood up. She had neglected to make a speech so far, so wrapped up was she in the scene playing out before her eyes. Clearing her throat Beidou held up her flask, the eager anticipation of her crewmates combining with the liquid fire in her system, causing a wave of rash confidence to run through her. At least she was an entertaining speechmaker.

“I look out upon the faces of warriors now! We may be somewhat irregular, an anomaly of the seas. However, that doesn’t change our bond, our fierce loyalty, our capabilities. I look out upon a group of people closer than family! Perhaps you’ve had brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles, but tell me this! Could any of those members of your previous lives fight back to back with you? No! They could not! We are a special breed, and there will never be anyone who can understand us as we can understand each other! And we ought to never forget this! Do not forget the brotherhood forged by fire. I know that I never will!”

Cheers erupted from every corner as sailors drank gleefully. A few of the more out of commission crewmates were sobbing uglily, hugging whoever was in their vicinity and making slightly incomprehensible statements of affection and loyalty. Beidou sat down, smiling at the chaos in front of her. Yes, she really was part of a band of brothers, and there was no reason to forget or doubt that. Why was it then that she felt as if she’d been somewhat deceitful? And why was it then that her eyes once more drifted towards you and the sailor who was now enthusiastically slapping you on the back?

The rest of the night passed in a haze of alcohol, as Beidou downed drink after drink. She didn’t walk up to you, didn’t try to acknowledge the source of her unease. Why should she? It was a party after all, and there were other things to do. Passing out just as the sun was beginning its ascent once more into the sky Beidou wondered if she was always going to feel this way when anyone got slightly flirty with you. If so, well, she was in for a rough time.

The next day was greeted by a pounding headache. The sun was much too bright, and Beidou let out an annoyed yelp as she stumbled towards her window, trying to not fall flat on her face as she grasped for the curtains. Yanking on them awkwardly she had just managed to get them somewhat closed before there was a knock on her door. Cursing the captain drew herself up as much as she possibly could in her current state, hoping that her clothes didn’t look too much like she’d simply slept in them.

“Come in.”

“I thought you might want a pitcher of water.”

Your voice was soft and slightly apologetic. Letting out a sigh of relief Beidou nodded, allowing herself to stumble back towards her hammock and flop onto the blanket. Wow she had drank a lot last night. You walked over to her desk, steps too steady to be that of a hungover person. Pouring a glass of water you stared at Beidou as she drank, a question in your eyes.

“What is it? You seem to want to ask me a question.”

“Are you sure you’re up to answering?”

“Well now I won’t be able to rest until you tell me it.”

“Fair enough,” you smiled. “Was something wrong last night?”

“Whaddya mean?”

“I mean you didn’t even walk over to me once. I was kind of surprised, to be honest.”

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, I just want to know why you were avoiding me.”

“I wasn’t avoiding you.” Beidou wrinkled her nose. Her head throbbed in protest and she quickly dropped the expression, sighing before taking another drink of water. “Well, perhaps I was slightly avoiding; but it’s wasn’t your fault.”

“Whose fault was it then?”

Beidou paused, trying to gather her thoughts as she searched for an answer. “You know that I don’t mind some familiarity on this ship.”

“Yes, as you so eloquently put last night,” you giggled slightly. Ignoring the subtle tease Beidou continued on.

“Well, I mean it; but it seems like I’m not very good at following my own rules. That shipmate you were flirting with last night? I just, I don’t know. Normally I don’t mind, y’know? But this time, well, it couldn’t stop bothering me. Even though you didn’t seem to mind it at all.”

“I didn’t mind it because he was drunk off his ass.” You pointed out, voice still soft and understanding. Taking one of Beidou’s hands in yours you leaned over to press a quick kiss on your partner’s forehead. “I’m sorry to hear it was bothering you though.”

“It’s not just that,” Beidou admitted. It seemed the floodgates of her thoughts had opened, and now she felt the need to tell you everything. “It’s that I couldn’t even follow my own rules, that I couldn’t stop myself from feeling… almost resentful. A captain, a good leader, they follow their own rules. It’s the only way to whip all the idiots into shape. But I couldn’t do that, I failed last night; I failed as a leader, I failed as a partner. I couldn’t follow my own example. Some leader.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself,” you murmured. Squeezing Beidou’s hand you shook your head slightly. “I know that the people on this ship sort of see you as a goddess, which you are, to me at least. Still, even goddesses can sometimes have flaws. Besides, if a shipmate ever came to you with these fears you’d absolutely laugh it off, give them a pat on the back, and send them on their way. So maybe you should follow your own example in that way. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

Beidou’s gut reaction was to contradict you, to point out once more how she had failed. However she was too tired, and your point was making a suspicious amount of sense. “Very well,” she smiled slightly, “you have a way with words darling. You sure you haven’t missed a career as a siren?”

“I already have a lovely sailor, thank you very much,” you giggled. Pressing soft kisses across Beidou’s cheeks you stood up. “Now drink a lot of water and get some rest. We can’t have our captain out of commission.”

“I trust I’m not the only one sleeping in today?”

“Oh definitely not! It’ll probably take a week before we’re in any shape to treasure hunt again.”

“Pity.”

“So greedy!” You gasped in fake surprise.

“As if you didn’t know that when you signed up.”

“I don’t know I never pegged you as the jealous type,” you said in a sing-song voice. Beidou felt her cheeks redden.

“Shaddup.”

Your laughter filled the cabin, bright and rejuvenating. Beidou couldn’t help but crack a small smile herself. How had she ever gotten so lucky in regards to her partner? Regardless of how, she wasn’t about to take you for granted.

  Childe

Childe liked to think of himself as one of the “good ones” when it came to Harbingers to work under. Was he somewhat demanding and only expected the best when it came to combat? Well, yes. Did he regularly debase his coworkers and underlings? No, he wasn’t Scaramouche after all. As long as you were passionate in your drive to serve the Tsaritsa and as long as you never missed out on your training, well Childe was sure that he could never have a problem with you.

That was, in fact, not true.

One of the Fatui messengers had been talking to you for almost twenty minutes now, though about what Childe hadn’t the slightest idea. After all, he’d already gotten the message that he needed, and the messenger surely had no business with you – you didn’t even work for the Fatui. Still there the messenger stood and there you stood next to him, a small smile on your face as you let out a soft laugh in regards to whatever they were saying.

Childe knew that he had no reason to feel as he did, but that didn’t stop irritation from rising inside him, and a sudden urge to flaunt his superiority that he usually reserved for the field of battle rose up inside of him. He didn’t quite understand why he was suddenly struggling against the urge to run up to you and throw his arms around you, but the urge was certainly there. What in Teyvat were you talking to that messenger about? What could possibly take up so much of your time? Considering the small fragments of conversation that made it to his ears Childe ruled that it was nothing truly of importance.

Letting himself lounge even more across his office chair Childe let out a slight sound of annoyance. Weren’t the two of you doing something before the nuisance came along? Sure, it wasn’t necessarily the most important thing, but discovering the best place in Liyue to study the stars was hardly worthless. After all, being somewhere high up and with a good view meant a better survey of the land around you. Who knew when some pesky Millelith or intrepid adventurer might try to attack the Fatui members scattered across the plains and mountains in Liyue? It was imperative to have eyes on everything, certainly more important than whatever this was!

Finally giving into his rising irritation Childe walked over to the two of you. Slinging an arm around your shoulder, Childe tried to give the messenger a smile that didn’t convey ‘scram or I’m kicking you out’. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but my partner and I have business to do and I’m sure that your other messages won’t deliver themselves. To the Tsaritsa information is everything and all that, so you should probably make sure people actually get said information.”

“Oh, uh, yes my lord. I’m sorry.”

The messenger pulled himself up straighter, giving an awkward bow. Turning to go the messenger didn’t fail to turn back around to give you one last smile. Accentuating his smile once more Childe finally detached himself from you as the messenger walked out of the office, shutting the door softly behind him.

After that the messenger seemed to be showing up everywhere. Childe could’ve sworn he was getting more mail in a week than he had in all his previous months in Liyue. Not to mention how awkward the timing of the deliveries seemed to seemed to be. What was the point of getting “important” mail right before the Bank ostensibly closed? What was Childe supposed to do with the information now? Never mind the fact that the letters and notes he was getting seemed to be getting more and more mundane, even nonsensical. A shipment of weaponry to be picked up, that might be important. But specifications on the renovations Dottore was making on his lair? Why would Childe ever need to know something like that?

Nor did it escape Childe’s notice that these messages always seemed to come with at least twenty minutes of conversation with you. How was the Harbinger supposed to concentrate when someone was yakking away in his office? Besides, what did it matter to you what this person’s favorite flowers were? Childe knew that the Tsaritsa was often quite ingenious in her schemes, but he truly couldn’t see what relaying someone’s favorite flowers could do? Had he mentioned before that you weren’t even a member of the Fatui?

Every day the messenger would endlessly chat with you about the stupidest things, and every day Childe would end up interrupting the two of you. What started with slinging an arm around your shoulder was slowly escalating. First it was an arm, then two, then an arm around your waist, then a head on your shoulder. One time he’d even pulled you right against him, smiling slightly as you let out a squeak of surprise.

Of course Childe knew what he was experiencing, was not necessarily unfamiliar with the concept of jealousy. Still, he wasn’t about to tell you about it. After all jealousy was a shallow, grasping sort of emotion; something that caused generals to fight against one another to approach him or the Harbingers instead of tending to their own troops. Jealousy was a useless sort of emotion, and not one that a warrior such as himself ought to feel. Besides, did he really need to feel jealous about an annoyingly persistent messenger? They were hardly above a weed in the hierarchy of things.

Still, Childe couldn’t exactly deny that he was feeling jealous. Avoidance was one thing, deceit was another. Even if he didn’t want to tell you about what he was feeling, he would never lie to you about it. Which is why at the end of another tedious twenty minute conversation when the messenger had finally left and you turned around to ask him if something was wrong Childe found himself frozen, stuck between quite the rock and a hard place.

“Why would you ask such a question darling? Does something seem wrong to you?”

“Childe, please. You’ve been clingier than barnacle recently. Are you even supposed to be at the office today; weren’t you supposed to inspect an outpost in Dragonspine today?”

“I just wanted to spend some time with my wonderful, amazing partner! Is there something wrong with that?”

“For you? Yes, there absolutely is. Childe, are, are you upset about something?”

Childe stared at you for a moment, crumbling under your persistent gaze. He could tell that you were worried, could tell in the slant of your mouth and the furrow of your brow. He couldn’t very well say no. That would be lying after all. He was upset about something, even if it was something utterly beneath him. He was still upset.

“That messenger has been annoying me.”

“The one that just left?” You turned to look at the closed door behind you, a puzzled expression on your face. “But why?”

“Isn’t it obvious? They’re flirting with you.”

“They’re not!” Your expression was incredulous, but you paused for a moment, obviously thinking about something very seriously. “At least, I don’t think they are. Are they?”

“Yes,” Childe let out a snort. “I can’t believe you didn’t notice. Why else would they be delivering the most worthless information before chatting with you when they should be somewhere else?”

“I guess you’re right,” you admitted. “But Childe, it’s not like I’d ever be interested in them. I mean, I can see how it’d be kind of annoying to have someone invade your personal space, but why the clinginess?”

Childe stared at you for a moment. “You’re kinda dense you know.”

“I’m not!”

“Oh you absolutely are. How else would you not realize that I’m jealous?”

“Well, well because I don’t know. You just don’t seem the jealous type. Besides, it’s not like I’d ever have interest in anyone other than you. I don’t know, I just don’t see the point.”

“You really are dense.” Childe smiled a small, frustrated smile. Letting his head drop into the crook of your neck he let out sigh. “I know that there’s no reason that I should’ve be jealous. I just, am. I don’t know why, but seeing that messenger flirting with you for days on end, I couldn’t help it.”

“Hey, it’s alright.” Your tone shifted slightly as you reached up to card gentle fingers through Childe’s orange locks. “Sometimes we’re just weird like that. Just as long as you know that you never have reason to be jealous, then you can be jealous sometimes. Alright?”

“Alright.” Childe whispered, finally letting himself relax a bit.

Raising his head he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You let out a small purr of happiness, gladly reciprocating. The weight on the Harbinger’s chest lightened, and he was finally met with the feeling of lazy contentment.

“Now, don’t you have an inspection to attend?” You smiled indulgently. “Go on, I’ve got errands to do anyways. As much as I appreciate the attention, you have to lessen the clinginess, okay?”

“Can’t make any promises darling.”

The sound of your indignant squawk, combined with Childe’s laughter, chased him out of the room and down the staircase.

  Eula

As a member of the esteemed Lawrence family Eula was confident in the fact that such base emotions as jealousy were utterly beneath her. What did people take her for? A commoner? What a presumptuous line of thought!

No, it was certainly not jealousy that Eula was feeling right now. What a preposterous notion. She was simply irritated that a Guild member had forgotten all respect due to the Knights of Favonius. After all, you were a part of Mondstadt’s frontline protectors, a far cry from those poor fools who relied only upon commission to prove their worth. Yes, it was simply how presumptuous that lowly Guild member was being, taking up your time on your patrol across the parapet of the wall surrounding Monstadt, to engage in such a frivolous act as flirting.

Surely there was nothing more to it? No, it was not even worth it to pose such a stupid question. After all, what was a lowly adventurer to Eula? A nuisance, perhaps, but nothing more. Certainly nothing to be worried about. There was no reason to pause at the tower door, no reason not to simply walk over to you, her partner and coworker. Your time on patrol was done, it was time to come in. Why then was she hesitating?

“You must love the view up here,” the adventurer smiled widely.

“Yes, it’s very nice!” You were all smiles.

“I’m sure it’s made all the more beautiful by your presence,” the adventurer pressed on.

“Ah, t-thanks,” you replied, smiling again and reaching to grasp the back of your neck. “Really, you’re too kind.”

“Not at all!”

The adventurer appeared to want to say something else, but Eula had long ago decided that things had gone too far. Who did this mere Guild member think they were?

“Your time is up soldier, you are needed in the afternoon meeting.”

Eula tried to keep her posture as correct as possible, looking straight past the interloper to you. You seemed to brighten, rushing over to Eula and nodding enthusiastically.

“Eula! Of course! I’ll be down, right this instant.”

“Good,” Eula replied, giving a curt not. Glancing over towards the adventurer she crossed her arms. “As for you, layawaying a knight of Favonius is a blemish upon the Adventurer’s Guild. Such a discretion surely must be paid with vengeance. Mark my words, I will not let this deed go unpunished.”

The adventurer stiffed. Taking a step towards Eula their face contorted into a snarl. “Listen here you Lawrence –”

“We’ll be going now!” You jumped in, glancing at you Eula nodded. Turning around she kept her features neutral. However she noticed the way you gestured apologetically at the fool before going to follow Eula, expression one of undeniable embarrassment.

Perhaps it was too much to hope that the adventurer might’ve learned their lesson. There they were the next day, standing right in front of you, acting as if yesterday’s squabble had never happened. Talking your ear off just as before Eula couldn’t help but frown at how they were to you, how they always seemed just about to brush their fingers against yours. How crude to do such a thing to a perfect stranger.

“Dear, is everything alright?”

Your voice snapped Eula out of her reverie. The two of you were walking towards Headquarters to grab your extra equipment before heading home. Normally Eula cherished such quiet moments, feeling like they were the few times when she could be utterly confident, utterly herself. This time however she found the events of the week pressing on her. Only managing to nod Eula quickened her pace slightly, as if to outrun the feelings that were growing inside her.

 “Hey, is something wrong?”

Eula lifted her gaze away from the papers she’d been halfheartedly scanning, her eyes meeting Amber’s. Eula would be the first person to admit that she wasn’t exactly sure how she had become friends with the eccentric Outrider. Indeed most of the things about Amber on paper grated Eula quite a bit. Still Amber was probably Eula’s closest coworker – other than you – and closest thing to a best friend that Eula had. It was perhaps unsurprising that Amber should notice something was wrong, and Eula was almost pleased by the fact that Amber was concerned about her.

“Nothing of great importance,” the knight replied. “There is only a nuisance which has been taking up a great deal of time and seems to still be interfering, despite all my efforts.”

“What kind of nuisance?” Amber tilted her head. Eula looked away, staring at the shelves that lined her office. She didn’t really want to look her coworker in the eyes.

“A, human nuisance. There has been an adventurer from the Guild who has been taking up a great deal too much of my partner’s time. They are utterly too presumptive in familiarity, and I feel that they are jeopardizing the Knights of Favonius with their irresponsible actions. Yet, despite all my efforts, they refuse to rethink their devious ways. It is no small problem.”

“That does sound very unpleasant.”

“Indeed, and yet I know not what to do. My reprimands have fallen on deaf ears.”

“Have you thought of maybe telling your partner.”

“Why would I ever reveal such feelings to my partner?!” Eula whipped her head around to look at Amber. The smile on her face was somewhat self-congratulatory.

“Eula, can I ask if you’ve considered something?”

“What is that?” Whatever Amber was about to say, it wasn’t going to be good.

“Have you considered the possibility that you might be jealous?”

“What, what nonsense! As if I should ever fall prey to such, to such base sensibilities!” Eula felt her face redden. Finding a particularly dirty spot upon the ground Eula stared intently past her friend. No, surely Amber was wrong.

“If you say so,” Amber shrugged. “But you might want to think about it. I mean, if I were feeling jealous I’d want to tell my partner. Besides, isn’t it the duty of a knight of Favonius to be honest and true?”

“You’re taking this awfully seriously,” Eula mumbled.

“Maybe,” Amber smiled, “but I do care about you. Remember that.”

With that the Outrider grabbed the paper she’d presumably been looking for and walked out the door before Eula could think of any sort of comeback. Turning her gaze back to her work Eula let out an exasperated sigh. Vengeance would be required against her coworker for such a ridiculous suggestion.

It was beginning to get on evening as Eula raced towards your regular guard spot. She’d worked later than usual today, probably spurned on by irritation at Amber’s ridiculous suggestions, and now Eula hoped that you hadn’t given up waiting for her and decided to go home. Climbing up the stairs her mind drifted once more to what Amber had said. Jealous? A member of the Lawrence clan was jealous? No, it was surely ridiculous. I mean, sure, she found the majority of her family members repulsive and vain and lazy to a fault, but surely she had to take something out of all the time she had spent within their midst. Besides, appearances had to be kept up, if only for the song and dance that the other people of Liyue insisted on continuing, long after it had stopped being of any use.

And yet, if she really was jealous, which of course she wasn’t, wouldn’t it be right to tell you? It was these thoughts that chased Eula. As she reached the top of the stairs to the opening of the parapet she decided that, if Amber’s theory were somehow proved right, she would tell you. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, the familiar silhouette of an adventurer meant it was the perfect time to figure this question out.

“It’s pretty late, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I suppose it is,” you smiled. “Still, Monstadt must be guarded day and night, mustn’t it?”

“Ah yes, the Knights must do all they can to protect our glorious city. Still, would there not be another reason for you staying up here so late?”

“Not particularly,” you shook your head.

“Are you sure about that?” The adventurer leaned towards you. Eula once more felt her heart seize up with that now all too common emotion. Was this jealousy?

“Uhm, I’m pretty sure.” The more that Eula had watched this song and danse the more she had realized how awkward you seemed around this person.

“Oh come on, a lonely figure looking out from on a wall, it’s sounds pretty story-like doesn’t it? Then again, you are straight out of a fairytale.”

“Thanks,” you replied, laughing somewhat awkwardly.

At this point Eula had come to a decision. Regardless of what this emotion was, and she was becoming increasingly worried it was, in fact, jealousy, you still seemed to be somewhat uncomfortable. Walking out onto the parapet she took your hand, glaring at the adventurer which stood across from you.

“I see you are once more distracting one of the Knights.”

“They didn’t mind, did you?” The adventurer’s mouth screwed up into something resembling a sneer. When you said nothing they shook their head. “You just had to come and make everything awkward; typical of a Lawrence member to be such a pain in the ass.”

“And now you insult one of the Knights! Indeed, the punishment will surely be great; and, until I decide what punishment is to be meted out, I suggest you take your leave.”

“You can’t tell me what to do!” The adventurer sputtered, but Eula merely smiled.

“Indeed I can. If I find you harassing one of our Knights one more time, know that I will not be so lenient as to merely give you a warning.”

“I wasn’t harassing anyone!”

“Distracting them then, making them unable to perform their duties, being a public nuisance. Do any of these serve you better?” Eula waved her hand. “Not that the terminology matters at this point. What matters is that you stop your current behavior.”

“Please just listen to what Eula says,” you piped up. Smiling a small smile you walked over to the adventurer. “I know that you were just trying to flirt, but I think that you should shoot your shot elsewhere now. Okay?”

The adventurer looked slightly red in the face, though whether it was embarrassment or anger was anyone’s guess. Slinking away, grumbling something under their breath, the Guild member was soon down the stairs and out of sight.

Sighing loudly you turned to Eula.

“Thanks for that. I mean, really! I don’t think they were trying to be actively malicious, but really sometimes you just have to read a room! I’m just glad I didn’t have to break it to them by myself.”

Staring at the stones under her feet Eula found herself mumbling something.

“What?”

“It, it wasn’t for your sake.”

“Ah yes, I know, it was for the honor and glory of the Knights of Favonius! Still, thank you.”

“No, I didn’t mean that. It was that, well, Amber’s been talking to me.”

“Amber?” You tilted your head, evidently confused by the sudden turn of the conversation. “What was she talking to you about?”

“About a very foolish emotion, one that I would never dream of feeling myself. And yet, I, I do believe that maybe, just maybe mind you, it had a factor in, in my actions.” Unwilling to come right out with it Eula found herself frowning. “The audacity of her really, to imply that a member of the Lawrence family might experience something as base as jealousy!”

Looking up towards you Eula saw recognition pass over your features. For a moment you did nothing, then suddenly a small, soft smile broke out on your face. Walking over to Eula, you gently enclosed your partner’s hands in yours.

“Thank you for telling me Eula, I’m sure it must’ve been difficult.”

“I-I’m not sure about it yet!” Eula stammered. “Only Amber wouldn’t stop talking about it.”

“That does sound like Amber,” you let out a soft laugh. “Still, thank you for telling me. It means a lot to me, okay?”

“A-alright.”

“I’m glad.”

You leaned over to give Eula a quick peck, before turning to walk down the stairs. Eula followed, one of her hands still intertwined firmly with yours. Suddenly her heart felt lighter than it had all week.

#Genshin Impact fanfiction #beidou x reader #childe x reader #eula x reader #genshin impact #genshin beidou #genshin childe #genshin eula #requested #scenarios #my writing

[krreader]

seven sins | chapter nine.

pairing: bts x reader ; kim namjoon x reader fandom: bts warnings: non idol!au ; historical!au ; princes!bts ; concubine!reader ; sex ; impregnation kink (they all have that at this point lol) genre: smut ; fluff ; angst word count: 2.4k+ previous: 1 ; 2 ; 3 ; 4 ; 5 ; 6 ; 7 ; 8

summary: even in times such as yours, you still led a privileged life with nothing to ask for. that is until first your father, then your mother died and you were left to care for your two younger sisters. the position for royal physician seemed to be open and with your father having been a general and your mother having been a maid for the queen, you thought you might be able to get it.. little did you know that your visit to the palace would put a completely different offer on the table.

a/n: it’s getting teeeeeense here!

The secret you've been trying to hide from the queen so desperately, exposed by one of the princes and so... casually. You were staring at Namjoon with shock and that seemed to amuse him more than anything.

“Don't worry. I won't tell, I know you've been taking them so that my big brother can be the one to impregnate you,” Namjoon said and you instantly let out a sigh of relief, that you quickly hid by gulping down. That wasn't at all what you were taking it for, but you'd rather have him believe this than know the truth, “And I think it's good, it let’s my brothers have their share and feel special.”

“But then why even bring this up?”

“It's not common knowledge that these herbs prevent pregnancies. I only know about it because I've buried my nose in books all my life. So that makes me wonder... how do you know?”

Would this be your chance to finally tell him about it? The fact that you were not actually a concubine, but a physician? Would this finally be over? But if you told him the truth, what would happen? What if he didn’t like it and then, if worse came to worse, killed you for treason? 

You knew your time was running out and you had to finally come clean... to somebody. But would Namjoon really be the right choice?

“Well... my mother and father, they...-

But without knocking, someone slid open the door and your instincts kicked in, too afraid that whoever this was had heard what you had said and would then force you to go on.

This wasn’t something the wrong person should hear. 

So you grabbed Namjoon's shirt and pulled him towards you, kissing him deeply.

“Oh.. I'm... sorry,” another physician instantly bowed a few times, but Namjoon was already gone, immediately kissing you back.

False alarm, but by the time she was gone, you realized that you had already pushed Namjoon over the edge, his eyes full of lust. 

Not really what you had in mind....

“We'll have this discussion later... promise me,” he whispered against your lips and you nodded, but inside, you shook your head.

He wasn’t the right one for this. Prince Namjoon was the smartest of the princes, but he was also one of the most intimidating ones. You had such a heard time reading him, no idea how he would react to the news once he heard it.

So, it was still only prince Seokjin or the king himself.

You knew you could use his lust to your advantage and make him forget about what you had just said for now, pulled him between your legs on the mattress that was on the floor and grinned.

There wasn't much foreplay involved, despite you having thought that he'd be one of the few that would actually like it, but maybe he was just too excited now, because when he pulled down his pants, his dick immediately sprang up.

“Are you sure?” still, stuff like this made you happy. He probably meant because of what happened earlier with the queen, but you felt safe with him now, when he didn’t know your secrets.

Namjoon still leaned down and kissed you, a lot more gentle than what you had expected. His dick was sliding through your folds, entering you effortlessly within minutes because of how wet you got.

But then again... this man looked like a god on top of you. Who could blame you for that?

“How hard do you want me to go?” he whispered against your lips, only moving ever so slightly on top of you.

“You're the prince,” you brushed your hand through his hair, the other you grabbed his butt with, “Take me in whatever way you want.”

In a different situation he maybe would have taken his time, but Namjoon was so ready to do just that, that he got up on his knees and pushed your legs back, beginning to fuck you mercilessly.

The duality. 

His eyes never left yours though, if he had seen just a slight flicker of discomfort, he would have stopped.

All he could see, however, was you biting down on your lip, trying not to scream from pleasure when he pushed your legs further back and hit the spot inside you, that made you see stars.

So that was a good sign.

He let go of your legs, only so that he could lean down and whisper in your ear once more.

“These herbs are great, you know?” he chuckled, his next thrust so deep that you did scream, “But I read that they don't always work...”

You were breathing heavily when he looked at you, confusion written all over your face.

“I can't help but wonder.. what it would be like.. to see you carrying my child.”

You didn't know what kind of books he read, but that was the moment that you realized that you indeed were smarter than him. Thankfully. 

You grinned, “Why don't you try?”

Namjoon licked his lips and immediately pulled out, turning you around and then your ass towards him, so that you were now on all fours.

He fucked you from behind, as hard as before, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips.

Despite you knowing that his plan would fail, you didn't complain, not when he once again found that spot within you that made you scream unintentionally. 

And to your surprise, when you screamed your final scream, so did Namjoon. He timed it perfectly and spilled himself inside you, filled you to the brim just like he wanted to. And he really made sure that not a single drip of his seed left your body. 

Once he was convinced, he gently pushed your upper body down and pulled out of you.

“Stay like this for a few minutes. You'll be with my child soon, beautiful.”

Damn, you really needed to become the royal physician... who the heck told him that this would work?

“Of course, my prince,” you said nevertheless, needing to get on the prince’s good side no matter what. 

The king was having dinner with his family later that night, pushing his food around on his plate, before finally looking up at his sons, more specifically at Hoseok, “I heard your concubine gave birth to a girl. Why not a boy?”

“His seed just isn't good quality,” Namjoon joked, making Hoseok get up and ready to fight him, but Jimin instantly pulled his big brother back down.

“What about you, then? Heard you fucked our favorite concubine today? One of the guards said you wanted to get her pregnant.”

That made the room turn quiet instantly, the king narrowing his eyes at Namjoon, “(Y/N)?”

Namjoon became smaller and smaller, but then he said: “Yoongi hyung, Jimin and Taehyung tried too!”

“Hey!” all three of them instantly started arguing that that was not true, in the meantime, Seokjin was sitting at the other end of the table, looking miserable as he forced himself to eat.

The king noticed, but didn't say anything for now. He let his boys argue this out and then disappeared relatively soon, only to ask for his oldest son in his chambers later on.

“You wanted to see me, father?” Seokjin bowed, then knelt down before his father.

“Am I under the right impression that all six of your brothers have had their share with this concubine (Y/N)... all but you?”

Seokjin lowered his head, but then he nodded, “I wanted them to spend time with her first. Since I'm going to be... you know.”

“The father of the future heir that she will have.”

Ah, great. All his responsibilities summed up in one sentence.

“Yes,” he said simply.

“Well, all six of them have had their fun. Now it's time for you to do your duties. I've arranged for her to come to your room tonight. I want you to finally do what you're supposed to do and give this kingdom a prince that will eventually become king.”

“Tonight?” Seokjin stuttered, “But... but Namjoon and her, they..-”

“Tonight, Seokjin. Every day you waste is another day less that this kingdom has a new heir.”

“But father, I don't think that we should..-”

“You dare to talk back to me?” with the way his voice got louder, Seokjin immediately flinched and shook his head, getting up and bowing a few times, way too afraid of his father to say anything else that would undermine his authority.

“I will do what is required of me. I promise you.”

But the moment he was out in the hallway, he felt like crying.

#bts imagine #bts reactions #bts x reader #bts #bangtan #bangtan reaction #bangtan boys #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #bangtan sonyeondan #reader #bangtan x reader #bangtan boys x reader #mine

[bakingandbooks3]

A Court of Song and Serpents

A bit short but the begging of a project I'm SO excited for- hope you love this as much as I do.

Summary: What a time to be alive as Nesta Archeron, going backward to move forward and finding that the places she once called home are now empty tombs.

Nesta

Nesta held her breath for a moment, a pause, and stilled entirely. The Court of Nightmares. She knew the verdict would be severe, but never would she have expected exile to a world of terror. The horrors of that place, of how it was once the main residence of the High Lord- till Rhysand.

Rhysand, the man who boasted of lands bountiful with choice and reason, now sat across from her donning unmasked hatred. A look he kept shielded from his mate, reserved just for Nesta. The kind that rips one apart from the inside out, would carve out the belly of a beast, burn a witch on a wooden pyre.

Nesta felt nothing, she always did. It wasn’t hard to see what he was thinking of her, how his beautiful wife’s wretched sister was little more than a gambling thief who slept her way through his glorious city. Now, fingers smeared that blank canvas so pure of her darkest shades.

Eyes flicking back, she studied that same sister. The Cursebreaker, the Savior.

How small and insignificant she became next to the glimmering shining thing Feyre was. The lands spoke of her beauty and kind touch, and how she sacrificed everything to save a world of people, and Fae that she was raised to despise.

Nesta wished it’d be known that her touch wasn’t always kind.

She built her bricks firm enough that her house of grace never shattered; Held firm, it was all she had left in her. Too many eyes on her filled with grief, excitement, retribution-Nesta was keenly aware of how this Court of Dreams felt of her.

“This is an exile.”

Rhysand's smirk peaked so slightly, his mate tensing.

“No, no. This is an intervention, a chance for you to find yourself away from bad influences and habits. You can’t keep living like this, and I refuse to let it continue happening and I take the fall for it. Your decisions are impractical and immoral. You are sober much less than you are drunk and-”

“If you’re going to condemn me, do it. But don’t sit here and act as if this is out of kindness.” Nesta snarled. She hated the barbed words, but it’s what she felt. “Who are you to question my morality?”

“I think I can speak for my wife when I say that your presence here is….” Rhysand growled but pulled back, like he forgot Feyre was right there, too.

Nesta wished he would’ve let go, so maybe that facade Rhys reserved for Feyre was broken. No, that’s cruel. As much as she hated this and him, he was making her sister happy.

Something Nesta could never do.

“I do not give a shit what my presence is doing. The decision has already been made, so stop scolding me like a child and make good on your word, Rhysand.” Bile rose in her throat, the words feeling nothing but slimy and disgusting. Foreign, yet habitual all the same. Sometimes, she forgets there once was a woman called Nesta who was so much more than the viper living in her now.

Sometimes she remembers that she can’t ever be her again.

Home was nowhere for her, not in a person, not in a place, certainly not in this bombastic group of “heroes”. Nesta didn’t need a hero, she just needed someone to care. But Nesta knew better, no one would. She was taught to be unlovable, just a woman to be sold off and married- to climb her mothers' ever-growing social ladder.

But Nesta on her own was never enough, even with her mother six feet under and rotted away there were unsung expectations unmet. She was a catastrophic failure and a dark smear on a family name that never truly held weight to her.

Nesta looked up, felt everything all at once again, could only see one man pacing a worn-through tether between them. He wasn’t going to stop this, but she could see it, how it looked like he wanted to jump out of his own flesh, the veins of his arm prominent and knuckles normally so brown a new fresh fallen snow.

There was no prince to save Nesta, much less any will to save herself. So when Mor took the pleasure of bringing her to a living Hell, Nesta did not fight.

She was tired of fighting, after all, she fought an inescapable fate for the first twenty years of her life…

Flowers always made Nesta sneeze, but Elain lit like lights during winter whenever she could thread them through her hair. They all symbolized something, Laine would say. There are ones for good days, and hard storms, for sunshine and stars.

Nesta was always adorned in flowers that paralleled the estate. Astute, cold, tired, where she was warm, comforting, and smelled like cookies- ones that Celia normally baked for the sisters. She never asked Laine why she picked the ones for her that she did, her reasons would stay silent for now.

Spring was a high time of activity in the Archeron estate. There was always a flurry of activity, from preparing their mothers' obscene balls, to guests at every corner in every room. The halls were sprinkled in candles and on walls hung frames nearly kissing it was packed so tight.

They were in the gardens. It was an Elain day, as the girls would call it, and no matter how boring or mundane her wishes were they’d be fulfilled. Nesta was propped on the floor in front of Laine, who was bunching handfuls to weave in tangled auburn coils that gathered on Nesta’s head- as a bird's nest would.

Eventually, Nesta would have to learn braids or risk knotting the curls entirely.

The eldest basked in the silence she created from mentally muting her middle sister, and spared a glance at Feyre. What she saw was not surprising, but required far more willpower than she expected to not burst into laughter and risk the flowery rat's nest on her scalp.

Feyre appeared to be so bored out of her mind she was eating discarded flowers of Elains. Actually, ingesting them, as if she was a critique. When Elain wasn’t looking at Feyre, she’d grab another couple and study them- analyzing her next experiment. Glaring at the blues and yellows as if she was speaking to them, “Which one of you will make me puke the fastest so I can run away?”

In time, Feyre looked up from her taste tests to see Nesta grinning at her so violently you’d think Feyre hung the moon.

And Feyre beamed back, crossing a pinkie across her chest and pointing it back to Nesta. Then she viciously spit out the grass she’d just finished chewing, crying directly at Laine, “This MUST stop at once, my stomach hurts far too much to continue on here.”

Elain, in a garden so quiet, simply ignored her sister's poor attempts at escape. Making Nesta work even harder to stifle the shaking of her shoulders, covering her mouth and nose before she started wheezing. Elain would hardly hurt a fly but sent Nesta a glare that could’ve easily killed a man.

Nesta cleared her throat, “I do believe there are more of the blue flowers down that hill near the pond. Would you mind getting some more for Laine?”

Feyre was already on her feet, mouthing her thanks as Elain turned her back to get the next bunch of flowers, “Why of course I will!” And with a very bad curtsey, Feyre threw off her shoes and was rolling down the hill, spinning wildly, her laughter sure to be heard in meadows far beyond theirs.

You would find the Archeron sisters all together, or never in the same place.

Laine was the easiest to find, by the waters or pond on the east side, in gardens surrounded with bugs and willows calling to the young girl. She could hardly read but if the text included any mention of colors and blooms, suddenly she was a scholar. Elain was not simple or dull, but rather a passive spirit, like a summer wind- brief, fleeting, but teeming with love and hope.

Feyre, as their mother said, was a reckless wild child. Far too young to care, far too small to be whipped into shape. If you were sent to find her and your life depended on it, may the Mother bless you. Feyre liked the kitchen, because of the immaculate food and maids who would shove any sweet down the littlest Archerons throat. But, also for the immeasurable amount of sharp items to be found in there. If it was pointy and could stab a wall or scare their ice-cold mother, Feyre would be running the halls with it in hand or making targets of her fathers old trade route maps.

Then there was Nesta, the firstborn. Molded to be another woman that she somehow couldn’t fit, as if her feet were too big or hair too long, Nesta was outgrowing the standards forged into her being. You would see her as a ghost, floating in and out of rooms, comfortable in silence and slumber, but never escaping people. She loved the maids and could recite all of their names like clockwork, and the workers loved her in turn. Always stuck in new worlds between pages or willingly dragged by the two youngers, Nesta teemed with liberation. She was often alone, but never lonely, and found new loves in the library or in the fields beyond marble confines.

Adela was constantly dissatisfied with her eldest's progress inside these walls, as if at eight she should’ve already been engaged to a prince. Granted, Adela knew better. Nesta would never truly find another kingdom to buy into when she already had a crown waiting for her elsewhere. She was known as fair and beautiful beyond her years, would age like fine wine, and become so much greater than Adela ever was. What Nesta saw as fit would normally come to be, an instinct Adela was unprepared she would inherit. Nothing left her more confused than this daughter only by blood, who was hated by both her parents for reasons far from the same, and how at less than ten years had an entire mansion wrapped around her fingers.

But Adela would wait, and simply leave them be for now. When viper's strike, they kill. And even though the Matron of the house wanted her little queen gone, she had other ways to see this through.

Anyways, children's blood on her hands would stain her diamonds.

---

Cassian

Cassian was violently fucking ill. Watching whatever the fuck that was did not help in the slightest. The second she was gone, so was he.

The General and High Lord were not on speaking terms, his presence was an obligation and not a request. When Rhys first displayed his plans, Cassian just about murdered him. Had his brother on the table in a chokehold that the Shadowsinger had to come and release Rhys from. The way his so-called family planned her exile was… horrific.

Cassian was full of light and humor, but not dull the way his family made him out to be. He could see this for what it was, punishing an already broken female for not meeting every damn need of a fully grown woman that was no longer her responsibility. Cass knew better than to downplay the sacrifices Feyre made, but he was also well aware that Nesta's habits were hardly a financial problem and more of a reputation scandal.

That’s what the High Lord did best, when his Court was breaking at the bonds, the mess would “disappear”. Just like the Illyrians hidden in the mountains, the displaced families of Spring, the homeless warriors of Night.

Cassian loved his brother, but more often than not he wondered when Fate would come to bite them in the asses for Rhys’ neglect.

Now, here he was, in his mothers' cabin, wings dragging behind him wiping tears long since shed over a woman who was thrown to the wolves and torn into so many scraps he wasn’t sure how he could put her together again.

He missed his Nesta, the one who threw glares and begged for her people, not this one who hardly spoke and caved into herself enough that she couldn’t see where she was heading.

Cassian fingered for his mug in the wooden cabinets and hit his mark, soon placing water to heat over a small fire over the counter.

He was not okay, not okay at all.

When you look for something in the dark for too long, you eventually find what you need but not always in the way you expect. Cassian coped the same as Nesta Archeron in his first years post-war. It was suffocating trying to be the happy one while dying inside. He watched men he looked up to fall and a lover he admired take her last breath- too much in far too little time. Cassian was not an idiot, he was simply perplexed. Why was he allowed to grieve in unacceptable manners, but Nesta was a sinner in holy clothing?

Bright walls and unlit rooms in the house were silent, only the winds of the mountains singing outside. The newly dusted snow wrapped the dirt in a delicate kiss- a forbidden touch. It was the peak of winter, just after Feyre’s birthday and another insufferable party.

One that Nesta wasn’t invited to.

Cassian wished he wasn’t invited either.

The cup in his hands was dwarfed in comparison to the bulky Illyrian holding it, but at least it was warm. At least it wasn’t empty.

Because if there was one thing he knew, it could always be worse.

Cassian knew that if things were a little different, he’d be the one sitting in a prison of darkness and Hell because of mistakes made as a child. He’d be exiled by family, cast away by the only living remains of a life once lived.

Nesta didn’t know but long before this he had called it even, their sins atoned for in hurting each other equally.

She was the only one in the world who could tell which smiles he was faking.

To anyone on the outside, one kiss was merely that. How curious it was, the iceberg went far deeper.

So when the mug crashed against the wall, and in its wake resembled his inner turmoil, Cassian took to the skies and found himself at the door of a place far too familiar.

.

.

.

AHHHHHHHH OMG OKAY hope you guys enjoyed this:) if you want to be added to the tag list let me know!

@lovemeforever12345 @champanheandluxxury @nahthanks@perseusannabeth@queenestarcheron@silvernesta

@loosingdreams@sayosdreams@audreycressworth@cyra04@that-golden-lyre@nessiantrashh@misswonderflower@dontgetsalmonella@caram267@bickbickbarnes@sabrinasam-blog

#acotar #cassian #nessian #acomaf #acowar #acosf #a court of silver flames #nesta archeron #nesta x cassian #nesta #acosf rewrite #bab writes #azriel #elain #feyre acotar #feyre archeron #rhysand #anti rhysand #okay it’s not really anti guys it just starts that way #so like bear with me #to have development you gotta bash them first #you know? #anyways love y’all

[ellsbclls]

oh !!! uhm, 🥺💓💗😳😐 wow this'll be ??? confusing ??? but ofc peter or tom and reader <33 (you're so amazing omg - that peter blurb was just astounding !!!)

this... got a little sad in the middle, but is pretty cute nonetheless. thank you for making my heart go splat on the pavement over this

WARNINGS: mentions of blood, injuries, burns, and hospitals.

send me the last 5 emojis you used and 2 characters and I’ll try to write a very short shit-story inspired by those (something like a few sentences long or just a short conversation)

"Oh, my poor baby." You cooed, dotingly sweeping damp, chestnut tendrils from his forehead. He hummed lowly in response, chasing your hand as it retreated from the sweat-slick expanse.

Christine had called you no second sooner than it happened — a small mishap in the midst of production sent Tom grappling for his harness during a particularly intricate stunt. Panic seized your every thought from that point forward, his reassurances from that very morning bouncing off your skull like a cruel schoolyard taunt, reminding you that "I’m Spider-Man!" and "This is child's play compared to Far From Home!"

Child's play your ass.

He would never understand how fortune favored, constantly dangling him over the edge before reeling him back to safety, and each incident made him more careless. Sloppier. It aggravated you, how he could wager his safety with such ease, summoning not only irritation but an evergrowing chasm of love, prone to love him more with each of his little details you discover.

Seeing as the tabloids had yet to sink their talons into the prospective headline, you suspected nothing more than a couple of cuts and bruises.

You were not prepared for the gash that decorated the plane of his left shoulder blade, an angry, crimson smile marring what was once smooth, sun-kissed skin. The engraving mapped out his accident in vivid detail, so it wasn't hard to imagine the depth of his fall.

Flittering across the slope of his shoulder, you made light work of his soiled gauze, digits carefully peeling the tape from his skin. At least the set nurse had sorted most of the damage, leaving you with nothing more than routine clean up every 8 hours or so.

The two of you were remarkably close for people with wildly opposite career paths — Tom and his routine injuries was the golden string of fate that tethered you together.

“You know,” his tone wreaked of impending bullshit, failing to shock you once it was uttered. “This still isn’t as bad as Far From Home.”

Linoleum tile that trailed up the burn unit’s spacious halls, fluorescent lights bouncing off their ivory reflections with a blinding vengeance, and an odor so sterile that it splashed against your chest like acid reflux — the memory curdled each time you revisited it, somehow smudging the line between reality and delusion with each passing day.

You remember how sleep ambushed you in the wee hours of that night, but not before you tested the limits of your imagination, rifling through a curated supercut of the worst possible outcomes imaginable. For hours. You were so tired that the doctor had to prod you awake with the back of his pencil, and even amidst your drowsy daze, your breath still hitched at the mention of pyrotechnics, and how fortunate your boyfriend was to be on the more forgiving end of the flames.

You remembered the dismal glint in his eyes each time he looked down at the length of his arms, glistening with topical creams and singed with fat, gnarled stripes. You swear that it sneaks up once in a while, when he thinks you’re not looking, projecting the memory of his damaged limbs after years of successful recovery.

Somehow, you weren’t able to recall the memory as endearingly as him, and you coughed up a dry laugh in response.

But he was right.

You wouldn’t dare imagine how much worse this could have been. So you don’t — opting to channel all of your concern into the hesitant swipes of alcohol you pressed against his injury, recoiling with each pained hiss that followed. “I know. I know, my love. I’m almost done.” You winced at the way the pad returned heavier with each pass, saturated with more and more crimson residue. “I’ve got a lot of surface area to work with.”

“Are you gonna kiss it better, when it's all cleaned up?” He teased, glancing over his shoulder to gauge your reaction.

“You couldn’t pay me to kiss this, Tom.” Scrunching your nose at the very thought, you scrapped the alcohol wipe in lieu of the medicated cream, something thick and wreaking of menthol that his nurse promised would help.

“Wow,” he sucked his teeth, letting sarcasm drip from his playful quip. “I guess I failed to realize you don’t love me anymore.”

"You're something else," You managed between laughs. Despite your overwhelming compassion, temptation hissed just below your ear, with a cloying proposal that only required the back of your hand and his vulnerable gash. Somewhere between the wicked thought and the action itself, your hand shifted to the spot beside it, swatting his shoulder with a high pitched shriek from his lips. Your laughter only intensified, digits curling around his bicep to keep yourself from doubling over. "Don't move an inch, I'm just gonna grab some more gauze."

Rising to your feet, you playfully bump your hip against his side and set your sights on the bag of first-aid supplies unfurled on your kitchen counter, but you're brought to a sudden halt as his fingers curl around the curve of your wrist, pulling you back into his lap.

In search of his caramel hues, your incredulous gaze is hampered by his own, reverent stare. There's something warm in those honey-dipped hues, kindling with embers of an emotion you can't quite put your finger on, but inviting nonetheless. His hand reaches up to cradle the side of your face, thumb climbing the high planes of your cheek, and with an unwavering timbre he confesses, "Thank you... for taking care of me."

"It's no biggie," You somehow manage to choke out, lungs seized in a stronghold only his affections could enact. It was miraculous that you could even form coherent thoughts, let alone sentences. "I'll take care of you as long as you let me."

Your words coax a love-lorn simper from the corner of his lip, canine's digging into the swell of his lower lip. "It's definitely a biggie, Y/N." his voice lilts at your own words, enamored by your modesty. "No one's ever made me feel as good as you do, and I just want you to know that I appreciate it. From the bottom of my heart."

The mere mention of it prompts you to trace the fabric right above his beating appendage, finding solace in the way it thumps against your palm. His heart, yours to lay claim, as simply as yours belongs to him. You attempt to shy away from the very thought by nuzzling into his palm. "Well, then, it appears that a raise is in order. What, for all my hard work?" You try to lighten the air with an attempt at humor, one you tack onto by tapping your finger against your unoccupied cheek, silently requesting a kiss.

Though, he's three steps ahead of you — sandwiching your face between two sturdy palms, he pulls you up to press a lingering kiss to yours. It's indulgent, and warm, and heavy with a floodgate of love and gratitude that he couldn't possibly put into words. He was an actor, after all, not an author.

You lose yourself in the dizzying trist, encircling your own fingers around his forearms, until you remembered your goal prior. It was nearly impossible, tearing yourself away, but admittedly for the greater good. "Let me finish patching you up. Then I'll kiss it better."

#tom holland blurb #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland oneshot #tom holland x reader blurb #djsbfjhdbfsdjkgbhdksjbghjkdsg i honestly couldn't bring myself to use the actual cherry incident #bc my heart is not strong enough to watch that one interview again #he loOKED SO GOOD #mine*

[terrifictomholland]

Tom making reader squirt for the first time with his fingers, love your writing!!!

word count: 2.3K

warnings: smut! curse words, slight derogatory language, established relationship, fucking without a condom (wrap it before you tap it!) fingering, squirting

This requires a very very special thank you to @worldoftom for helping me out with this, she’s simply the best! 

As usual, this contains adult themes which means 18+ please respect that.

Enjoy!

You let your head fall forward onto your book, making a thud against your desk.

“This is hopeless,” you grumbled before sitting up and swirled around in your desk chair. Tom looked up at you from his spot on your bed, eyes dragging away from the Netflix show he was watching so as to not interfere with you as you studied. 

“What’s the matter?” Those sweet brown eyes stared at you concerned. He made your heart swell every time.

“It’s so hard! I’ve been reading the same sentence twelve times now, twelve, Tom!” You saw how hard he fought not to laugh at you and stomped your feet petulantly.

“It’s not funny!” you whined, truly acting like a child, and he just shook his head. He pulled his earbuds out, pausing the show as he made some space for you and patted said space. 

“Get over here, you’re taking a break.” Your eyebrows lifted up and you quickly made your way over and laid down next to him. 

“What are you watching?” You smiled, toying with the strings of his hoodie. He looked so fine and so delectable in the new hoodie you got him for your 6 month anniversary. It was a maroon coloured hoodie that looked simply divine on him. You knew he loved it just as much because he wore it almost always. It had ‘NIKE’ on the chest in black letters and the brand symbol right under. 

“Mindhunter,” he murmured as his arm wrapped around you to pull you flush against him. You let out a content sigh, scooting closer to him, wanting more of his body heat. 

“Love that show, and right up your alley, mr. future criminologist,” you teased, turning your attention to the screen while you played with the baby curls at the nape of his neck that weren’t hidden by his cap he wore backwards, the same way he always did. 

You got further and further engrossed in the show before you felt him tilt your head to look at him. His lips crashed down on yours moments later and your eyes fluttered shut, immediately getting lost in it.

 You still felt the same rush now as you did the first time he kissed you. You savoured the little shiver that traveled up your spine right as his lips connected with yours, only for you to pull him in closer using your arms you had around his neck.

“I love you, I love kissing you,” you murmured against his supple lips, feeling the way he smiled into the kiss. 

“I love you and kissing you too.” He rolled you so that you were flat on your back now instead of laying on your sides. You hummed when you felt him suck and tug on your lower lip, his tongue slipping inside your mouth with practised ease.

You locked your legs around his waist, pressing him down against you and you let out a sigh, feeling him grind his hips against you.

“Mmh…” You smiled, breaking the kiss so you could move down and kiss his neck. Quickly finding his spot where you sucked hard enough to bruise, hearing his low curse only to soothe it with your tongue. 

“Babe,” he murmured, looking at you with glassy eyes, “you’re wearing way too much.” That said, he sat up and pulled you with him as he helped you out of your clothes. You clambered on top of him, straddling his hips and rolling your hips against his crotch moaning when you felt him starting to harden in his sweats.

“You gorgeous, gorgeous girl,” he breathed as he sucked your nipple into his mouth, causing you to cry out. You arched your back, pushing your tits further in his face, and his large hands squeezed your ass keeping you in place as you ground your hips against him.

“So wet you’re gonna make a mess all over my sweats, aren’t you?” he murmured against your skin, looking at you with hooded eyes. A look that had you soaking his sweats and clench around nothing. 

“Tom, please…” you whined softly, hiding your face in his neck as he helped you hump him. 

“Tell me what you need, how can I help you relax, gorgeous?” he murmured, and you smiled, kissing him deeply.

“Want your fingers, make me cum with them. Make me cum so hard everyone will hear it, who I belong too,” the words spilled out from you. 

The fire that your words lit in his eyes wasn’t something you could miss, and he let out a growl that made stronger shivers run up your spine. 

“I’ll do you one better, the whole fucking country will hear who you belong to.”

Your jaw dropped at his words, and they filled your stomach with fire and your cunt clenched again. 

“Lay down on your back,” he murmured, “Just gonna put this down— oh.” You pounced on him, sitting up until you could reach his neck. Kissing and sucking and biting as his groans hitched in his throat. His head fell to the side, inviting you closer, and you smiled against his skin, nuzzling your nose against his warmth before you let him put the laptop down.

He looked down at you, his eyes blazing with sheer hunger and the lust swirling in them was hard to miss. You blinked up at him pretending to be blasé about his gaze, but your whole body betrayed you as your skin prickled in anticipation. It only got worse as he turned to you almost in slow motion, clearly having his payback for how you'd surprised him moments before. You exhaled when he finally got on top of you, arms caging your head, kissing your lips and making his way down to your core.

“Oh god,” you moaned. You felt him spreading your legs and getting situated between them, his fingers dancing along your inner thighs, and you spread your legs even further for him. He glanced at you with a tiny smirk.

“Someone’s rather impatient…” When he tutted, you felt the rush of embarrassment in your chest, then you squirmed ever so slightly when he swept his fingers through your soaking wet folds.

Your hips jolted forward, and he let out a laugh against your nipple.

“Oh babe, always such a drippy mess for me,” he preened, and you swallowed thickly, feeling him coat your juices all around you before he fucked a finger inside of you. 

“Fuck,” you whimpered, throwing your head back and sucking your lip between your teeth as you let him take over and make you feel good. You felt the tingles of pleasure scatter all the way down to your fingertips as he added a second finger, pumping them in and out of you.

“S-shit.”

You felt your stomach tighten when he started rubbing your clit in circles, with just enough pressure where it nearly hurt. You weren’t very sensitive so he knew you could take it. In fact, you loved it when he went rough on you. Everything he did to you in bed came from a place of implicit trust, communication and love between the two of you.  

“That’s it, baby, fuck yourself on my fingers like the good little slut you are.” He was bringing out all the weapons today to make you feel good. You started raising your hips, fucking yourself on them like he asked. 

“God, look at you, taking my fingers and coating them so good,” he praised, and you basked in the praise, feeling warm and fuzzy from it. It spurred you on to give him even more of a show. 

“My best girl,” he murmured and you pulled him up so you could kiss him hotly.

“M-more, give me more,” you mumbled into his mouth and gasped when he pushed in a third finger. The stretch was absolutely delicious.

“O-oh this reminds me of your cock, stretching me so good, but your fingers can’t get as deep as your cock,” you breathed, pulling away. His eyes flashed, upping his game, fucking into you so that tiny bolts of pleasure fizzled before your eyelids.

“Holy shit,” you gasped, clinging to his arms, staring at him slack-jawed. He smirked cockily at the filthy noises your pussy was making. Squelchy and obscene noises mixed with your gasps and moans. You could see him tenting in his sweats right where you’d left a stain from grinding on him. 

“Yeah that’s right, let everyone know how good I’m making you feel.” He puffed his chest, and you bit your lip, your eyes dancing with delight. And even though you felt so much pleasure, a giggle slipped out of you.

“Fuck, Tom,” you breathed when he curled his fingers, finding your spot immediately. He licked his lips, watching you as the pleasure clouded your senses.

“I’m gonna cum,” you moaned loudly, feeling the tight knot in your stomach loosening and the pressure building up. Tom sat up and got closer to your cunt and you grasped on to the pillow, your body lurching forward as he finger-fucked your harder and faster than before.

You were incoherent by this point, too overwhelmed with pleasure, and he just kept going. He kept hitting your spot over and over and rubbing your clit until the coil snapped and you let out a guttural scream. Warmth spread through you and a gushing sensation rolled over you in tidal waves. Your body trembled and clenched as the aftershocks of your orgasm continued. 

“Oh my god,” he said breathlessly, gently caressing your face. You glanced at him, breathing heavily, and he just kissed your face repeatedly.

“Look at this.”

He pulled away from you slightly, and you looked down, seeing a large wet spot covering nearly half of his hoodie. Your eyes widened. “I did that?!” 

“Yeah, you did!” he exclaimed with a chuckle, and you bit your lip shyly, taking his hand and licking his fingers clean from your juices. His jaw dropped slightly as you sucked on his fingers down to his knuckles. 

“You filthy little girl.” His voice lowered, and you felt yourself clench and licked your lips, knowing you were in for a ride now. 

“Get on top.”

By the time you got on top of him, he’d removed his pants along with his boxers. Revealing his hard cock, showing it off to you as he laced his hands behind his head. You let out a whimper at the sight. Then you straddled him and grabbed hold of the base, hearing him groan a few times as you gave a few teasing strokes.

“Gonna fill me up to the brim and ruin me for everyone else, aren't you,” you breathed as you stared into his eyes, sinking down on him. His eyes went even more glazed than before, and you felt your eyes roll back when he was fully inside of you.

“Fucking hell,” he growled, and you squeezed him, feeling the way he filled you up and dragged along your walls.

His cock was nestled deep inside, the head brushing your spot making you throw your head back as you started riding him for all your worth. Hips rolling as he met your thrusts. Guiding you by using his hands on your ass now, giving it a slap, and you just moaned louder at that.

“Oh fuck.” You moved your hips as fast as you could, nicking the cap off of his head and putting it on your own.

“Déjà vu,” he smirked, and you giggled breathlessly.

“Couldn’t help myself, you look so fucking sexy when I fuck you like this,” you purred, seeing his sweaty hair matted against his forehead, a flush to his cheeks and the veins popping in his neck. 

Yeah, you were a real lucky girl.

“So do you.” He kissed you deeply and you moaned against his mouth when he delivered another slap on your ass.

“Fuck,” you cried out, feeling the exertion catching up to you. He seemed to notice this, picking up the speed for you, and you felt the coil getting tighter and tighter again.

“I, oh fuck! I’m getting close again.” You stared at him, letting out tiny gasps, your moans and whimpers coming out in short puffs.

“C’mon, cum for me gorgeous, make a mess all over my cock,” he encouraged, placing a hand between your legs, and your mouth dropped open in a silent scream when he flicked your clit rapidly. The coil came undone once more and you soaked his cock, watching the way you squirted over him for the second time. You clenching and squeezing his cock was what toppled him over the edge, crying out your name as he came. You felt his hot cum deep inside of you, and you both threw your heads back, riding out your highs. 

You completely collapsed against him once you managed to get yourself together from your earth-blowing orgasm. You smushed your face in his neck, feeling his pulse jack-hammer, and pressed a lazy kiss against it.

“Wow, wow, wow,” Tom panted, holding you close, and you nodded, unable to form words. 

“I can’t believe I did that,” you murmured drowsily.

“Neither can I, but holy shit, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed, baby,” he praised, making you purr in delight.

“Thank you, babyboy.” You kissed him lazily and open-mouthedly.

“You’re welcome, baby, just wanna make you feel good,” he murmured once you pulled away, and you smiled at him lovingly, caressing his face.

“You’ve gotta be roasting right now.” You giggled, looking at his cum and sweat-stained hoodie, and he let out a breathless laugh.

“Is that your way of asking for a strip-tease?” 

You wolf-whistled reaching over into the bedside drawer to fish out a dollar holding it up. “Yeah baby, Magic Mike me!” You hollered and he snorted, his whole body shaking with laughter. 

“You’re crazy,” he laughed, getting rid of his hoodie in one smooth movement, and you whoop-whooped once it was off and he was completely naked. 

“I want cuddles now.” You held your arms out with a pout. He shook his head with a sigh before holding you tightly.

“I love you, gorgeous.” Your heart grew three sizes whenever he uttered those words to you, and you smiled so wide your cheeks ached.

“I love you morer.”

@localfangirlx - @siriuslyslyslytherin  @averyfosterthoughts - @unicorn-princess-1999 - @softbaby-tom - @alwaysbenhardysgirl - @hotforharrison - @awesomelupe - @parkeraul - @howdyho-harrystyles - @thirsttrapholland @imanativeofswlondondahling @londonspidey  @peterparkoure - @fallingforfics -  @captainbuckyy - @parkeraul - @maryjanee23 -  @definitely-not-black-cat - @the-professional-procastinator @parkerpeter24 @lmaotshollandd @quaksonhehe @ethereal-beauty-p @mskatharinak @duskholland @greenorangevioletgrass @rebekkah4766 @farfromparker @geminiparkers @selfcarecap @screamholland @tetralea @t-lostinworlds 

#tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland blurb #tom holland x female reader #frat boy!tom holland #my blurbs

[firstofficerwiggles]

Chapter 5: How the Paintball Battle Was Won

Links to Chpt. 4 , Chpt. 6

Pairing: The Mandalorian x female reader

Rating: T

Warnings: Canonical violence, PTSD for the reader, angst, hurt/comfort

Word Count: ~6400

Author’s note: So this chapter gets more angsty, but I promise it is sandwiched in there between some humor and some serious fluff along with some Domestic!Din thrown in there for good measure. I hope you enjoy reading this chapter! (Also, smut is coming in the next chapter for those of you who are thirsty for it.)

“Paintball?” You look up at Mando in surprise, “Isn’t this a game for teenagers?” He’s brought you to a dusty town on Baros with a few hole-in-the-wall cantinas and a sleepy looking marketplace in the middle of nowhere to play paintball?

“I wasn’t sure if it would still be here, but they’re open,” Mando sounds chipper. “I haven’t been here in years.”

“You used to come here and play paintball?” The idea seems ludicrous, that Mando, a seasoned warrior and top bounty hunter, would be playing a game that requires shooting brightly colored balls of paint at your opponents.

“When I was younger and first in the Fighting Corps, we trained here on Baros for a time. We used to sneak out when we had breaks between training sessions to come and play with the local kids.” Mando’s voice sounds nostalgic and happy as he remembers his youth. “I’m sure now that our commanders knew what we were up to, but it gave us additional fighting practice, so I don’t think they minded.”

You try to imagine Mando as a teen boy stealing away with his friends from a probably rigid training schedule to play fake war games with other kids. It’s a charming thought, but it’s hard to picture when you look at the man now. But he’s right, it would have been decent training too… oh, now you understand.

“This is so I can practice shooting live, moving targets.” You’re on to his plan.

“What?” Mando is all innocence, “I just thought since we’re here, we ought to have some fun.”

“I know you think I can’t tell, but I feel you smirking at me under there.” You tell him pointing towards the helmet.

Mando simply chuckles at you and gives your hand a tug towards the entrance.

“What about the baby?” You ask, hoping to stall a little, “He can’t play paintball.”

“He’ll be safe in his pram, and you’ll have a chance to practice protecting him too.” Mando replies. He’s clearly thought this out.

“That might be too advanced for me to focus on shooting targets and guarding the child,” you tell him.

“Yes, but I’ll be here to help you.” His voice sounds warm as he tells you, “You’re going to be great, c’mon.”

The owner of the paintball place seems delighted to see Mando and tells the rest of the patrons in the prep area that they are in for a real treat today. Most of the other people here are teenaged boys, but you’re surprised to see a couple of adults here too including a few other women. Perhaps you were too quick to judge. The teen boys are in sheer awe of Mando and after they openly gawk at him for a few minutes, they’re pestering the owner to find out if they can request that Mando be on their team.

“Teams will be by random draw as always, although people paying together will automatically be put on the same team unless they request otherwise.” The owner tells everyone waiting. “Now, please enter the locker area to suit up and stow away personal belongings.”

You’ve been given protective gear and a helmet to wear to ensure your safety during the game. While the paintballs aren’t lethal, they can still hurt quite a lot without protection. Mando watches as you gear up, and when you’re done you can’t help but goof around and strike a model pose.

“How do I look?” You can still manage to make flirty eyes at him, as although your helmet covers most of your face, the visor only has light tinting so your eyes are still quite visible.  

“You’re adorable,” he tells you. It’s been a little over a week since your trip to Canto Bight and your first Keldabe kiss with Mando, and he’s been growing more affectionate with you, particularly with compliments. He’s still rather shy about physical affection though, almost as if he thinks he’s limited to only a certain number of touches a day.

“Ok, everyone, let’s go over the rules.” The owner calls everyone to his attention and reviews the rules of the game, which are basically, if you get shot three times in a ‘critical target area’ as indicated on your protective gear, you are out of the game.

“Today’s game is your basic brawl. The last team with the most players remaining when the buzzer sounds will be the winners. However, we have a special guest and special rules that will add to the challenge!” The man gestures towards Mando, “If you want to take out the Mandalorian, you need three hits somewhere not on the armor, and good luck with that!” The man says it in such a way that he’s confident no one will be able to get Mando out of the game.

Before the game begins, you check on the child to make sure he’ll be ok. He has his favorite silver ball and a couple other toys with him in his pram, and you’ve tucked in few snacks that he likes in case he gets hungry.

“Ok, sweetie, you’re going to play with your toys and keep the pram closed until Mando or I open it,” you tell him. He coos at you in response and you give his nose a little boop before securing the pram.

“Here, put this on,” Mando hands you a metal wrist cuff with various buttons, “It’s linked to the pram like my vambraces, so that way the child will follow you wherever you go.” He quickly shows you how the buttons operate.

You and Mando get assigned to the red team and are issued paintball guns filled with the appropriate colored balls. There are three teen boys, a man, and another woman on your team. The teen boys are vibrating with excitement at being on Mando’s team; they keep calling him ‘sir’ and asking for ‘battle advice’. Mando is very kind to them, and answers all of their questions in a serious manner. It’s quite sweet really, how nice he is to them, but you’ve noticed that’s generally who he is, so long as that person cannot be perceived as a threat. With your team agreeing on Mando’s plans for the battle, followed by a loud war cry whoop from the boys, you head out to your designated starting positions.

Your adrenaline is pumping and when a loud bell rings out to indicate the start of the game, you’re almost as keyed up as the teenagers around you.  Mando’s plan calls for your team to be on the defensive and wait for the other teams to come to you, allowing you all to maintain better positions and hold on to better cover for as long as possible. It’s a good plan and fairly soon, some of the teen boys from the green team have charged over to your area recklessly, making them easier targets. You get off a couple shots, but your nerves get the best of you and you miss wildly. Fortunately, only Mando seems to notice as your other teammates are on target and dispatch the boys without anyone on your team getting hit.

“It’s alright, just breathe,” he tells you, “Remember you’re a good shot, I know you are.” He places a hand between your shoulders and rubs lightly to help calm you down. He points towards something moving in the bushes to your right and taps your shoulder. You can see another player advancing towards your position.

“Aim your weapon, take a deep breath,” Mando instructs you, “and shoot.” You pull the trigger and watch as your paintball splatters bright red on the other player’s chest plate. You remember quickly that you need two more shots to eliminate your target and so you shoot again. It ends up taking you five more shots but in the end, you’re victorious.

“I actually did it!” you squeal a little in delight and Mando gives your waist a small squeeze.

“Great job, cyar’ika!”

Hmm, there’s that foreign word again. It’s the second time he’s said it to you, and you think it must be Mando’a but you haven’t thought to ask him about it yet. You’re about to say something when a yellow paintball suddenly bursts on Mando’s left pauldron. You instantly whip your head around and fire off shots in the direction of the shooter. A sudden fierceness overtakes you in your determination to take out the player. You channel all your focus into your aim and once again, you are successful, only faster this time.

“That was even better,” Mando tells you, and your heart soars at his praise. He hasn’t even bothered to take a shot yet, he just seems content to watch you.

The game continues and it seems that the other players have caught on to your team’s plan, which leads to a break in the action. Everyone huddles together for a moment, and you realize the rest of your team are waiting for Mando’s instructions.

“So, Mando, what do we do next?” you ask him.

“What do you think our strategy should be?” he counters.

“Well, it seems like we’ve taken out quite a lot of the green team, so I say we head towards the yellow team’s area and try to lower their numbers more.” You figure this is the best way to ensure that your team will have the most active players in the end.

“Why don’t we finish off the green team first? You know, get them while they’re weak,” one of the other players suggests.

“No, her plan makes the best sense,” Mando says in support of your idea, “If we want to be the winners, we have to make sure the yellow team has more casualties.” There’s something about the way he says this that gives you a sense of pride. He’s not just going along with your suggestion because he likes you, it’s because he trusts your judgement and he agrees with it.

You set out in an attack formation as directed by Mando in search of the yellow team. He’s stationed you towards the rear of the group allowing the child’s floating pram to stay behind you, meanwhile he’s positioned himself at the front as an attractive target. You don’t love the idea of Mando making himself the bait, but you recognize that his strategy is logical as the challenge of taking out the Mandalorian will be too tempting for the others to pass up on and thus it should be easier for the rest of you to hit them.

The plan works perfectly and as a barrage of paintballs are launched in Mando’s direction, your team begins methodically targeting the yellow team. You try not to watch as more yellow paint splashes onto Mando’s beskar, because each time it does you feel a spike of irrational anger, how dare they shoot at your Mando. As for himself, Mando is finally shooting off paintballs of his own, but you get the impression that he’s doing so rather leisurely, like he’s not really putting in too much effort. Must be taking it easy on everyone.

Things seems quiet for a moment and you turn to check on the little guy’s pram. It’s still closed up and he’s safe and sound. You’re just turning back to look over your shoulder when a green paintball hits you in the side, right where there’s no padding. It’s surprisingly painful and you double-over, grasping at your side. Mando’s reaction is swift. He quickly dispatches the green shooter and then rushes over to you.

“Are you hurt? Do you need help?” His voice is full of concern.

“I’m fine,” you wheeze out, “just stings.”

“Take a moment and breathe,” he says as he tucks his left arm around you to hold you close to him while he proceeds to keep shooting with his right. It suddenly strikes you as incredibly attractive how he’s managing to comfort you and still fight at the same time.  

You can’t keep yourself from telling him, “Maker, you’re hot.”

“What?” He looks down at you for a second, a little surprised.

“Nothing, I’m just impressed by you.” You laugh a little and pull away so you can go back to the game.

The game continues for a while longer and you’re astounded by how much you’ve gotten into it. You no longer feel nervous about shooting at other people and you’re caught up in wanting to help your team win. You get hit a couple more times, but luckily they manage to miss the critical targets so when the buzzer sounds, you’ve managed to be one of the ‘survivors’. You run over to Mando to assess his ‘damage’ and while he has yellow and green paint splotches all over his beskar, he has only one green spot on his arm in the unarmored section near his elbow, which means that no one managed to successfully remove him from the game either. After a brief count, your team is announced as the victors by just one player. Your whole team cheers and exchanges high fives as you congratulate each other.

“See, I told you it would be fun,” Mando leans down close to you, “You were great, I was impressed too.” He brings his helmet down to touch the crown of yours.

You don’t have a chance to say anything back as the teen boys are at Mando’s side begging him to take a holophoto with them. Mando dutifully poses with the boys as you help out by acting as the photographer. You pull out your own holopad and snap a few holos too for your own enjoyment later.  

You return to the locker room to get cleaned up and back into your regular clothes. You’re securing your holster belt with its real blaster when you realize again how thankful you are that Mando’s gone out of his way to help you learn so much about fighting, even to the point where he found a way to make sure it would be enjoyable.

You head over to where he’s cleaning the paint off his armor with a bucket of water and some rags. It must be a bit hard to do though because there’s no mirror to help him see all the areas that need to be cleaned. You pick up one of the rags.

“Have a seat and I’ll help you get cleaned up,” you say as you motion to a bench.

“Thanks, it’s hard to do without being able to take it off,” he tells you.

He sits with his legs akimbo and you step between them to get better access to the beskar. Fortunately, the paint washes off without much effort, but there’s so much of it and you want to be sure to get it out of the small ridges and furrows of the armor.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you tell him as you clean, “It really was fun and I think you’re right, it was good training.”

“You’re welcome,” Mando says warmly, and he brings his hands up to your hips to pull you in a little closer. He leaves his hands there as you move to clean his helmet and begins tracing little patterns with his thumbs. His touch is simple, but it makes you feel so fluttery inside. You look down at his visor and give him a little smile as you wipe a streak of gloopy green paint from the crown of his helmet.

“It drives me crazy when you look at me like that,” he tells you with his hands tightening on your hips.

“How am I looking at you?” Your smile widens.

“Like you have a secret and you’re daring me to find out what it is,” he says, his voice sounding deeper.

You chuckle, and as you finish cleaning his helmet you drop your lips down and give it a kiss, “Is that so?” you ask in a coquettish tone and you give him a wink.

Mando groans at you and pulls you in closer, “I’ve had enough being in public, let’s get back to the Crest,” he says. His words and the timbre of his voice fill you with dark excitement, and you nod your head in response.

You bid goodbye to your teammates and hurry out into the street, heading in the direction of the ship. You’re only a short distance from the Razor Crest when you hear a laser bolt whiz past you. You draw your blaster and turn towards the source of the bolt where you see five armed men bearing down on you, Mando, and the child. “Hunters!” Mando shouts to you as he returns fire.

Another blast comes from behind you and you whip around to see three more shooters trying to box you in. Like Mando, you shoot back, your fight mode coming out in full force. You manage to shoot one of the hunters in the chest and you see him fall. You don’t dwell on it though as you scan the area for a possible escape route. You feel Mando tug on your sleeve as he gestures to the left where you can see a small side street. You rush towards the street as fast as you can while Mando provides cover. You’re still wearing the wrist cuff from before so the baby’s pram is following after you. You feel a sharp burning sensation in your side and it almost knocks you to the ground, but your determination to get away is stronger and you push your legs to keep you running.

The narrow street spills out into a broader avenue that is now bustling with activity. You bump into people as you try to get away and it makes you stumble. You look around wildly for help but everyone seems oblivious to your distress. The baby’s pram is still right with you and you’re relieved to see it’s still closed up tightly. But where is Mando? You thought he was right behind you but now you don’t see him anywhere. You turn back to the narrow side street when you see one of the hunters come barreling out of it. He fires several bolts in your direction, one of which ricochets off the pram. People scream and scatter. A primal protectiveness surges within you as all you can think about is how you won’t let this man hurt your child and so you raise your blaster and shoot him twice in the chest. He falls to the ground, but something in you won’t let you stop. You keep moving toward him until you’re standing over him and then you shoot him in the head to make sure he can’t hurt either of you. You should probably feel guilty about killing him, but you don’t. You look down the street, worried that you’ll see another hunter heading your direction, but it seems quiet. You pant as you try to catch your breath and now you realize just how badly your side is hurting, you think it must be from before where the paintball hit you but when you look down you see your shirt is soaked with blood. You sag against a building as you realize you’ve been shot. A woman sees you and hurries over to help,

“We have to get you to a doctor right away,” she’s saying.

“Wait, I need Man-, I need to find Man- Mando.” The pain is making it hard to speak.

“It’s alright, your child’s pram is right here.” She doesn’t understand.

You sway on your feet and she quickly places an arm around you to help you walk. “Don’t try to talk, dear,” she’s telling you as she drags you towards a medical clinic. Everything is getting blurry and you fight to stay upright. When you make it inside the clinic, someone immediately pushes you towards a gurney and you collapse on it just before you black out.

Din is desperate to find you and the child. When he sent you down that side street, he succeeded in taking down most of the hunters. But one particularly large man, a Clawdite, had managed to tackle Din. That allowed another hunter to slip by and head down the street in pursuit of you. After stabbing the Clawdite, Din quickly trails the other man. His head is filled with worse case scenarios but when he finds the body at the end of the street, a sense of relief comes over him. It’s short-lived, however, when he realizes neither you nor the child are anywhere to be seen. Din can feel true fear rising in him that perhaps there were others and maybe you were both captured, when he remembers the wrist cuff he gave you and the tracking device he installed within it. He breathes a sigh of relief again when he pings your signal and realizes you’re nearby.

Din tracks your signal to the medical center, the sight of which makes his blood run cold because if you’re here that means that one of you must be hurt. He rushes inside but before he can ask anyone about you or the baby, he hears a frightened scream and then your voice shouting,

“NO! NO! Get away from me! NO!”

Din is back in full combat mode as he hurries towards the sound of your terrified voice. He finds you in a room with a round floating medical droid trying to administer an injection. You are curled up on the floor in a corner of the room with your hands over your face as you cry out in fear. Din shoves the droid out of the room forcefully before carefully approaching your huddled form.

“Shh, shh, it’s alright, it’s me, it’s Mando,” he says as he tentatively reaches out to you. “The droid is gone, and I’m here.”

You sob something that sounds like ‘Mando’ and launch yourself into his arms. You’re still crying hard when you get out the word, ‘baby’. Din looks around the room and thankfully he sees the child’s pram. He manages to reach the open button on his vambrace and the pram’s dome opens up to reveal the little one safe inside. The baby looks concerned at your distress and he lets out a sad-sounding coo.

“He’s alright, cyar’ika, the baby is safe, you did so wonderful protecting him.” Din holds you and runs a hand over your back, and he continues to whisper soothing words trying to calm you. A noise at the door causes him to look up and see two nurses there who are trying to figure out what all the commotion is.

“Sir, who are you and why is this patient out of her bed?” one of the nurses asks indigently.

“She’s terrified of that droid, you can’t let it near her again,” Din says, scooping you up in his arms and helping you back to the bed.

“Alright,” the other nurse says in a kinder tone, “but you can’t be back here unless you’re family.”

“I’m her husband,” Din snaps, knowing they won’t argue with that, “Now can someone tell me what happened?” His voice is demanding and rough.

“I’m sorry, sir, your wife was shot in the side,” the kinder nurse explains, “She’s lucky because the bolt missed her vital organs but she will need some time to heal. The droid was only going to give her a bacta shot.”

“She’s scared of that droid,” Din repeats, “Can’t one of you give it to her?” His tone of voice makes it clear that it’s a demand not a request.

“Maybe she’s just scared of the shot,” the indigent nurse says, a slight scoff to her tone.

“The shot is fine, just please not the droid,” you manage to say in a weak voice. You look at Din as you explain, “The Empire used medical droids for torture.”

Din remembers how you told him you were punished by the Imps when they discovered your sabotage, but you’ve never gone into details about that punishment. He has some idea now what they must have done to you, and why seeing another droid like that would cause such a negative response.

“No more droids are to come into this room,” Din instructs the nurses.

“Of course, sir, I’ll give her the shot myself,” the kinder nurse tells him, “I’ll be back in a moment.”

Din turns back to you and reaches up to smooth the tears from your cheeks. “It’s going to be okay, I won’t let anyone or anything hurt you.”

“Will you please stay with me?” you ask and you grip his hand tightly as if he might disappear.

“Nothing could make me leave you,” he says as he caresses your face.

A soft whine floats over to Din and you from the pram as the little one wants to know what’s happening. Din steps away from your side to quickly pick him up and bring him over to the bed with you. At first Din tries to just hold him close to you, but the child isn’t satisfied with that. Instead, he quickly climbs out of Din’s arms and onto the bed to nestle up against your chest, he then reaches up to touch your face with his little hand.

“Hi, buddy,” you say softly, “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Din watches the two of you as a vast sense of gratitude washes over him; he’s so very thankful that you both are safe now and no lasting damage has been done. He holds your hand again and brings his helmet down to your head allowing him to watch over you and the child as close as possible.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Several hours later, you are doing much better after the bacta shot has done its work and the medical center releases you to go home. Din swipes a hoverchair and quickly steers you back to the Razor Crest; he insisted that you shouldn’t walk all the way back to the ship. Once on board again, he gets you safely tucked into your bed still with the child cuddled up against your side. The little guy refuses to leave you alone and even demanded to ride in your lap on the way back to the ship instead of returning to his pram.

With the three of you safely in space, Din returns to the hull. He’s pleased to see you’re resting comfortably as you talk softly to the child and he sets about to prepare some dinner for the three of you. It’s been hours since any of you have eaten and he’s sure you must be hungry. Din’s not as good a cook as you are, but he tries to add the little touches that you do for him like cutting up the fruit and arranging it on a plate, and adding honey to your tea the way that you like. When he brings your dinner over to you, he notices that the child has managed to use his powers to bring several of his stuffed toys over to your bed and he seems to be arranging them around you for additional snuggling.

“You’re doing a great job as a caregiver, buddy,” Din tells him chuckling.

“I keep telling him he’s being so sweet sharing his plushies with me,” you respond with a soft chuckle of your own.

Din helps you sit up, before handing you the dinner tray.

“Do you need help eating?” He asks concerned.

“Nah, I’m fine, Mando,” you tell him, “Really I feel much better; I don’t think I need to be in bed anymore.”

“You’re staying in bed for the rest of the day, and probably tomorrow too,” Din replies pointing his finger at you the way he does when he disciplines the child sometimes.

“Yes, Nurse Mando,” you reply cheekily.

“That’s right. Now eat your dinner before I feed you myself,” he says with a nod of his head.

After you’ve eaten, you’re still sitting up in bed and now you’re playing a little with the child and his plush toys as you tell him a story. Din can hear in your voice though that you’re tired and even though he knows you are doing better, you need your rest.

“Ok, kiddo, I think that’s the end of story time.” He comes over and picks up the child despite his little whines of protest.

“It’s alright,” you say softly.

“No, you need to get more rest,” Din tells you, “Besides, it’s time to get this guy cleaned up before he goes to bed.”

You can hear the sounds of water running in the fresher and Mando saying “Don’t look at me like that, she needs to rest so she can get better,” and it makes you smile. Both of your guys are being so sweet as they take care of you. You stretch back out against your pillows and close your eyes, and before you know it, you’ve drifted off to sleep.

When you awaken a while later, you see Mando sitting on a crate near your bed reading something on his holopad. He’s taken off his armor and is now more relaxed in his undershirt, trousers, and helmet only.

“Mando, is everything alright, what are you doing?” You’re surprised he’s not in bed himself or up in the cockpit where he’d be more comfortable.

“I didn’t want to leave you alone in case you needed something,” he tells you.

“That’s very sweet, Mando, but you must be getting tired,” you say.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he replies. You know he can go for long stretches without sleeping, but it’s really not necessary now. Maybe there is a way you can get him to rest at least.

“You could come lie down with me,” you suggest and give him a small smile.

“There’s nothing I’d like better, but you’re hurt and you need to rest,” he says, but it’s clear from his tone that he’s tempted by your offer.

“I won’t do anything more than just cuddle with you, I promise,” you counter, and you give him the flirtatious look that you know he likes. It works like a charm and although he lets out one of his long-suffering sighs, he’s standing up and moving towards the bed.

“Alright, we’re just going to cuddle and you are going to rest and try not to move too much.” Mando may be trying to sound stern, but there’s an eagerness to his movements that gives away how much he wants to join you in the bed.

He lies down next to you on his back and puts his arm around you pulling you close to his side. You shift your position so that you can place your head on his chest and rest your hand on his stomach lightly. This way you can lie on your good side and take any pressure off the side that needs to heal. As you settle into him, Mando lets out a sound of contentment making his chest vibrate beneath you.

“Thank you, this is nice,” you tell him, “Plus, you’re so warm and cozy.”

He chuckles at that and rubs his large palm across your back, “It’s getting to where I can’t say no to you.”

“I see no problem with that,” you reply and you give his chest a kiss through his shirt.

“Mmm, I bet you don’t.” His chest rumbles again pleasantly against your cheek.

“Mando, I didn’t get a chance to really thank you earlier, but I want you to know you really helped me back at the med center.” You hope he understands how important he was for you in that moment.

“You don’t have to thank me for that, I could see how terrified you were and I knew you needed me.” Mando says softly and pulls you tighter to him. He pauses and then asks you, “When you said you were punished by the Imperials, did they… torture you with the droid?”

“Yes,” you tell him in a flat voice, “It would give various shots to induce different types of pain. It was horrible. Seeing that droid today felt like being back there, back in that terrible place. I- I don’t want to talk about it too much.”

“I understand,” Mando tells you, “I hate droids… well, there was one once who wasn’t so bad, but mostly I hate them.” His voice is gruff as he tells you this.

“Why do you hate them?” you ask.

“My home was destroyed by droids,” he says, “Everything was gone, my town, my friends, my parents, all killed.”

“Oh, Mando, how awful,” Your heart breaks for him, “That’s devastating. I’m so sorry for you.”

“I was only a child, and I would have been killed too if not for the Mandalorians who rescued me,” he explains.

“You were a foundling too,” you say softly.

“Yes,” he replies.

You’re quiet for a bit as you stroke his chest in a soothing manner. You know he’s supposed to be comforting you, but you want Mando to know that you’re here for him too. He brings his other hand up to cover yours. You realize that his glove is off and for the first time you are touching his bare skin. Your breath catches in your throat at the sensation and you revel in each tiny movement that he makes as he slowly explores your fingers with his. His hand is large and warm, and you marvel at how delicate and gentle he is as he touches you.

“You skin is so soft, cyar’ika,” he murmurs to you.

“Thank you,” you say softly, but then you can’t help but ask, “What does that word mean, cyar’ika?” He’s called you that a few times now and your burning curiosity can’t wait any longer.

Mando chuckles lightly, “Aren’t you the code-breaker? What do you think it means?”

“Oh, I see, a linguistic challenge, hmm?” You’re willing to play along and you take a moment to think.

“Well, you’ve used it in place of my name, so it could be a nickname, but based on context, I’d say it’s a term of endearment.” You lift your head up to look at him as you propose your theory.

“What do you mean?” He questions, intrigued.

“Well, if it were a nickname, I think you’d use it more frequently, and by my count you’ve only said it four times, which makes me think it must be more special than just a nickname. Plus I know you’ve said my name more often than that.”

“Oh?” He sounds amused.

“Yes, and when you said it was important too,” you explain, “Twice you said it when I was very distressed and you were sure to use a calming tone, but then, the other two times were when you gave me a compliment, and those times, you had a more romantic tone.”

He’s laughing openly now and shaking the whole bed as he does. Oh no, you’ve nerded him into hysterics, “Sorry, am I being too analytical?” you ask him sheepishly.

“No, no, I love how logical you’re being, cyar’ika,” he emphasizes the word again and his voice is caring as he tells you, “I’m impressed and entertained by how you think. I had no idea how much thought you’d put into it.”

“Well, am I correct though?” You’re still dying to know.

“Yes, you are,” he says between chuckles, and you smile up at him in response. He calms down a bit and then tells you, “It means sweetheart.” His voice is deeper as he says the word in Basic and you feel your stomach flutter in delight.

“I like that, Mando, I like it a lot; it’s such a beautiful word,” You wish you had a term of endearment for him that would sound even half as beautiful.

“Din,” he says to you.

“What?” you reply confused.

“My name is Din, Din Djarin,” he introduces himself to you, “I’d really like for you to call me by my real name.”

“It’s an honor to know you, Din Djarin,” you reply in as warm and loving a tone as you can, trying to show him how much it means to you that he’s sharing something so personal.

“The honor is all mine, cyar’ika,” he tells you and he squeezes your hand to punctuate his words, “You mean so much to me, I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.”

“I feel the same about you, Din.” Lying in his arms, it’s easy to tell him how you feel, and you realize how much you want him to hear it. “I was so worried when we were separated today, but when you found me, and I knew you were there, it just felt right, like I knew everything would be all right.”

Din pulls you in closer, hugging you as tight as he can without hurting you. He feels your arm snake around his waist to hold him tighter too and he feels a sense of true serenity. It’s a new emotion for him or at least one he hasn’t felt since he was very young. The two of you stay like that for a long time and as he listens to your breathing, he thinks perhaps you’ve fallen asleep. He relaxes his hold on you and thinks that maybe he should try to slip out of the bed so that you’ll rest properly, when he feels you stir.

“Din, will you teach me more Mando’a?” you ask, your voice sounding dreamy.

“Yes, but not tonight, you need to sleep,” he says softly but firmly.

“Ok, good,” you reply with a small yawn.

You settle back in to the bed a little and pull up the blankets around you more. Din starts to pull away from you little by little, but you’re having none of it and you grip him tighter.

“Are you trying to leave?” you ask, sounding only a little pouty, “Don’t you want to stay and cuddle?”

He sighs, “You need your rest, and I’m distracting you from that.”

“I’ll rest better with you here,” you insist.

“I’ll stay if you promise to go to sleep now,” he replies.

“Ok, I’ll go to sleep.” You’re quiet for a few seconds, but then you whisper to him, “Din?”

“Yes?”

“Goodnight,” you whisper, “I hope you sleep well.”

“Cyar’ika?”

“Yes?”

“Stop talking.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Thank you so much for reading! Continue to Chpt. 6 Where no Mando Has Gone Before. If you’d like to be added to the tag list, just let me know!

By the way, do you all remember that droid from a New Hope that gave Leia the shot? That’s the one I was thinking of when I came up with how the reader was punished by the Empire. That thing gave me nightmares for weeks when I was a child.

Tag list:  @overtly-cuteashell @grogusmum @imabeautifulbutterfly @wellofeternalthirst @idreamofboobear @theamuz @fangirlalexia @callmekane @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11 @theravenreads @nicotinebirds @boomtownboy @nova646 @wandering-storm-lost-shadow @becks-things @sleepwithacommunist @mackycat11 @som3thingcr3ative @punkdalek @pinkninja200 @s-unflowxr @ladyjenny19 @peppywitch​ @haley7242​

#the mandalorian #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian x female reader #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian fanfic #din djarin fanfic

[arttuff]

Nightmare Dads by ninja-kitty-more-like-no

LOOK AT THIS CUTE FIC WRITTEN BY @ninja-kitty-more-like-no!!! I AM SO SOFT

It’s not unusual, in a place like this, for people to have nightmares. God knows Heavy’s woken up enough times hearing his doctor gasping awake in the sheets next to him to know that the next step is to gently pull him to his chest and murmur pieces of poetry he can really only half-recall until he slips back into sleep. And honestly, everyone had looked so pitiful watching them that it had seemed like the next logical step when they’d started to appear on their own bad nights, watching nervously from the doorway until either Heavy or Medic had moved over to make room for them.

He remembers his sisters doing the same thing, first when they were little, and then when they were suddenly grown-ups, dealing with terrifying grown-up realities in their fragile child bodies. He wonders what that makes his team, now.

Monsters, he is supplied, and he clutches Medic closer to his chest and disavows his mind.

Part of the issue is that everyone is so quiet about what’s wrong. They never say anything, just bottle it up until they can’t anymore and someone ends up with a knife buried in them.

Usually from Spy. Especially from Spy.

Spy is a menace.

It’s late some January night when he hears small noises coming from the entry to the base while he’s getting water. He thinks perhaps it’s Pyro, at first, but the room is dark when he looks in. The sound resolves into a soft clicking, backed only by the howl of the wind outside. On nights like these, everyone is usually bundled up in their beds, trying to stave off the cold. No one should be awake.

He flicks the lights. The clicking stops. Ms. Pauling points a gun at his head.

He doesn’t move back, because this is not entirely unexpected, but he takes his hand off the light switch. She drops the gun as soon as she realizes who it is. “Heavy- I’m so sorry, I-”

“Is fine,” he tells her. She’s curled up on the floor with her pistol by her side. Her eyes are red, and her hair is around her shoulders. She’s even wearing pajamas. Clearly, something terrible has happened. “Why you are here?”

She sniffs quietly, rubbing one of her eyes under her glasses. “The roads got too bad for me to leave, so the Administrator told me to stay here tonight, and- did I wake you up?”

“No.” He nods towards her pistol. “Why is gun out?”

She’s quiet for a moment. “I… I still have to work tomorrow.”

“The roads-”

“I know,” she murmurs. She rubs her eyes again, dropping her glasses by her pistol. “I know.”

He hesitates for a moment before sighing and stepping closer. “Heavy has idea.”

She blinks up at him. He holds out a hand and helps her up when she takes it before gently leading her back to his room.

Medic is already awake when he comes back, fumbling for his glasses. To his credit, it hardly phases him when he sees Ms. Pauling. He raises an eyebrow at Heavy, but he only pushes her forward towards the bed and goes to find the kettle that Medic keeps by his knife sharpener. She wraps her arms around her torso as he sits up to make sense of the scene. “Guten abend, Frau Pauling. Is there any particular reason you’ve come to join us tonight, or did Heavy simply herd you up here like ein Schaeferhund?”

She opens her mouth to explain, but Heavy interrupts as he turns on one of Medic’s bunsen burners. “Bad roads. Work tomorrow. She won’t sleep.”

“That’s-”

Medic nods. “Mm. I see.”

“I’m fine-”

“You are dying,” Medic says simply. He throws back the covers and hisses as he makes contact with the floor. “You cannot work if you are dying. I’ll call the Administrator and let her know.”

“What are you talking about.” Heavy can hear the frustration in her voice. “I’m not dying- I’m not hurt, I’m- I’m fine, I’m just busy, and I don’t-”

“When was the last time you slept a full night?” Medic asks before she can continue. “How much water do you drink on a normal day? Ms. Pauling-” He looks at her with narrowed eyes as he pulls on his slippers. “When was the last time anyone hugged you?”

She stares blankly for a long time. “Medic, what the hell does that have to do with me dying.”

Heavy smiles as he pours a mug of hot water from the now whistling kettle. He’s heard this speech before. He does so love it when his husband bullies someone into self-care.

“A human being needs at least seven hours of sleep a night to remain productive. At your size, you need to be drinking roughly two point seven liters of water a day to stay hydrated. People need to be hugged four times a day in order to survive. You are not receiving these things. Therefore, you are not surviving, and, therefore, you are dying.”

Heavy plops a teabag into the mug and turns back around to give it to Ms. Pauling, who is still standing next to the bad. He considers, then grabs one of Medic’s bone saws, too. “I have work tomorrow-”

“Work will wait,” Medic insists. He glances at Heavy. “I’m calling the Administrator. You can have one of my days off if she requires one. You are going to drink something hot and sleep until nine in the morning. Doctor’s orders.”

She sniffs quietly. She looks a little bit teary. “You’re not a doctor.”

He stops, then takes a deep breath. “Then as your friend, Ms. Pauling., please get some rest.”

There’s maybe a second before she just starts crying.

Heavy is at her side in an instant, pushing the mug into her hands as he draws her up onto the bed. He sits down next to her, and she immediately rests her head on his shoulder as saltwater drips down her nose. He’s seen this before. He knows what to do. He lays the bone saw next to her, in case she needs the security, but she shakes her head and curls into him. She trusts him.

She reminds him so much of Zhanna that, for a moment, it hurts.

Medic steps into his office to use the phone. When he returns, it is to his husband gently stroking back Ms. Pauling’s hair as she rests half on his chest, snoring quietly. He smiles quietly and sits down next to them. “I can go use a cot if she would feel more comfor-”

Without waking up, she gropes around and squeezes one of Medic’s hands. He smiles softly and squeezes back. “Ah.”

“Administrator-”

“Cleared it,” he reassures Heavy, gently letting go of her hand. “I just have to ride along on one of Ms. Pauling’s jobs, presumably as bait. Nothing I haven’t done before.”

He hums assent. Medic takes off his slippers and pulls the covers back up. Ms. Pauling sighs quietly in her sleep as Medic leans over her and kisses Heavy on the cheek. “Gute Nacht, Schatz.”

He turns off the lamp. Heavy hears him sigh contentedly as he snuggles back into his covers, looking, as he does every night, for all the world one of his fluffy little birds.

Heavy closes his eyes and thinks of Alexander Pushkin’s Talisman, of his sisters, of the cold night and the fragile weight next to him.

“Spokoynoy nochi,” he murmurs, and the gentle night closes in.

——————–

OMG THANK YOU @ninja-kitty-more-like-no!!! THIS IS SO GOOD I LOVE IT

#submitted #submission #THIS IS SO SWEET!!!!! #ninja-kitty-more-like-no #tf2 #heavy tf2 #medic tf2 #pauling tf2 #miss pauling tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 fanfiction #I LOVE THIS SO MUCH OMGGGG

[wallwriterstuff]

Our Dearest Moments ||Alec Volturi x Reader||

Warnings: None, this is nice and fluffy

Words: 2964

Summary: A request for @royalvolturisblog    Forever is a long time to live, an occasionally a little reflection upon who we are and how we got here is needed to maintain our sanity, and decided some very important answers to equally as important questions.

Sometimes, life is not all we expect it to be. Sometimes, life is cruel. Sometimes, life is disappointing. For me? I can safely say it’s none of these things. My life had always been easy, the best of everything and wanting for nothing. As doting as he was, my father had spoilt me rotten and never let me work hard for anything, never given me life skills that most normal people would need to live a functioning, adult existence. Why would I need them? Money was not a problem for my family nor would it ever be, so why go to the hassle of building a life where a nine to five job sapped the life from me when I could, quite sustainably, simply enjoy my life to its fullest at my loving father’s expense? Why make your child work if there was no need? I would not settle for a subpar life as nothing in my life had ever been less than luxurious.

That was my life in a nutshell. It was flat screen TVs in a ginormous bedroom which would have fit some people’s houses inside it, four poster beds and every new games console, every makeup palette fresh off the manufacturers line and vacations to the most remote and lavish corners of the Earth. I never even had to ask for some of it, my father simply expected I would want things and provided them without request – as those of guilt soul are wont to do.

“Well? What do you say?” Alec asked, his lips pressing the gentlest of kisses against my shoulder. I hummed, leaning back against him.

“Forgive me, I was hardly listening to a word you said, my mind is…elsewhere.” I admitted. Alec squeezed my hips, arms widening around my waist to tighten his hold on me.

“You’re ignoring me now? How very rude. I thought we were passed this.” He chided, though his tone was more playful than scolding.

“Call it introspection.” I sighed. Alec chuckled.

“Introspection? Now that sounds dangerous. I happen to like you as you are, if you haven’t noticed.” He teased, pressing a kiss to my temple. I turned in his arms with a smile. He stood a little taller than I did but I didn’t mind; it always gave me the best angle of the soft curve of his jawline, the fullness of his lips that didn’t like to stray from my own for too long. It also gave me the perfect excuse to nestle my head against his collarbone, escape those all seeing crimson eyes of his. Alec had seen right through me from the very start.

“I happen to know, you inform me every day…you sap.” I smiled a little as he lifted a hand to play with my hair.

“Then why decide to be introspective? What is there to reflect on? What would you wish to change?” he questioned.

“I already have changed,” I pointed out, lifting my hand to play with his coven crest, “I actually work for a living now.” Alec actually laughed at that, pulling back to feign shock.

“You? Spoilt? I would never have guessed.” he teased. He wasn’t wrong. Even now my room was lavish, silks and fine fabrics and luxuries filling every corner, but at least this time I had worked for it. Being a part of the Volturi was a privilege in itself but it required hard work, it required proving your worth and working for the greater good of your species. It was rather odd, how I had turned my entire life philosophy around in the span of a few centuries. Maybe it was Alec, making me humbler and wiser. Perhaps I owed some of it to Vladimir and Stefan, who had taught me to fight for what I wanted rather than throw money at it. I could still remember that fateful day, though faces and names were murky now in my ‘old age’.

Samuel and Scott were two boys I had craved the presence of a lot in my human days, though I couldn’t honestly tell you why anymore. Perhaps it was the familiarity of money, or the comfort that came from knowing someone of your status and experience walked alongside you and understood your world view, but they were the closest friends I had for a long time. What was better than going on vacation with your friends at the closing of exam season? Rome had been beautiful, the sights enamouring and the food…I suppose it was okay – my tastebuds had changed since then. I could still vividly recall the kind of heat I wasn’t accustomed to back home, and the dazzling brightness of the sunlight that spotted my vision and made my ever blurry human memories seem even worse quality somehow. I also remembered laughter, and warmth, the kind of warmth that flooded your soul and felt like a good hug on the worst of days. It was strange, the things that stayed with you.

Then there was too much warmth. The process to immortalise one’s body came at the cost of burning the eternal soul till only a shell was left behind, petrified and cold. That was how Stefan put it at least in his usual, grim way. The memories of my time with them had most certainly been the most vivid, since I was very much a vampire by then and I could remember every little glance, every change in the tone of their voice. Those days….those days were full of anger. My doting father taken from me, my best friends none the wiser as to where I had gone and yet never once pleading on the news for my safe return as most others did for their loved ones. Through time and trial and error, Vladimir and Stefan had shown me that I had actually lost nothing in this life, only gained. I was stronger, swifter, better than any human version of myself could ever be.

Then came the gift.

It had been purely accidental at first. Another boy taken in by Stefan only to be turned (in what I would later find out was an attempt at raising a small army) was similarly gifted. He had the quite remarkable ability to make anything he touched smaller or larger, depending on what he wished it to look like, and unintentionally I had taken his gift to use for myself. He hadn’t stayed much longer after that, Vladimir and Stefan reluctant to let him part but allowing it – only because they knew the Volturi would send the Guard after an unruly newborn causing havoc. Why should they need him when they had me? They had been the ones to train my gift, an enhanced trait from my human life they had said – as I had taken what I wanted then I could do so now with startling efficiency. By the time Alec had arrived I had not truly gotten it under control, hence my confrontation with Jane.

It turns out the unruly newborn had been smarter than we thought, and the Masters’ had dispensed the Guard to see about this gifted vampire the Romanian’s had collected. At this point it had been months since we’d even seen the boy, years since Vladimir and Stefan had stolen me from Rome’s streets on one of their daring missions taking them close to Volturi territory. My gift had made me indispensable to them, though I like to believe that on some level they cared for me as a person, given all the gifts and birthday celebrations they had indulged in for me. There had been trips and movie nights all at my request, and affectionate gestures such as hugs and chaste kisses to my forehead that had lulled me into the false sense of security that I was where I ought to be.

“Your mind keeps wondering. I happen to be trying to ask you a very important question.” Alec was sounding a tad frustrated with me now and my eyebrows furrowed.

“I’m sorry, really, I just…do you ever have one of those days where you feel like you can’t escape thinking about the past? Thinking about the things that led you to this moment?” I sighed. It was perhaps a tad dramatic, perhaps even silly of me to be this distracted by such errant thoughts, but they wouldn’t leave me be. Alec stared at me for a long moment, and then he tucked a lock of stray hair behind my ear and swept me off of my feet to seat us on the sofa before our fireplace. Draped across his lap as I was, he had made me his sole focus and gave me his undivided attention now.

“I can’t say I do, so explain it to me. What are you thinking of in particular?” he questioned. My head tilted slightly, the briefest of smiles tugging at my lips.

“Demetri fixing up his nose the day we met.” I giggled. Alec snorted, eyes rolling.

“Vladimir did hit him rather hard.” He agreed. The commotion hadn’t much bothered me, my head buried too deep in my book to really be bothered by such trivial things, but then he had screamed. It was a blood-curdling kind of scream, the sort you heard in slasher movies when the victim is disposed of. It was the first time I had seen Jane’s gift in action, and the only time since I had stolen it. I had only meant to shove the menacing little blonde away from the man I had grown to see as a second father, only to accidentally set her own gift on her. She had crumpled like a straw doll, screaming all the while, and anyone else who came at me went down the same way.

Felix, Demetri and Jane just writhed on the stone floor while I tried and failed to keep Alec at bay, the mate bond I had unknowingly just set with him the moment we locked eyes preventing me from hurting him and vice versa. His mist had danced at the edges of my feet as he gave me more warnings than I was sure was customary of a Guard with his reputation until I managed to calm the raging inferno in my own mind, and douse the flames in theirs.

“Then you misted me.” I recalled, scowling at him slightly. Alec looked amused.

“You were getting rather violent,” he pointed out, “I’d merely suggested an even trade, their lives for you accompanying us to Volterra, and poor Demetri lost his nose a second time that day.” I could still recall the crunch of his skin beneath my knuckles as I vowed to never let them take me anywhere, and now two centuries on I couldn’t bear the thought of being anywhere other than in Alec’s lap. His hand skimmed my arm as I dropped my head on his shoulder.

“You think he would forgive me for that by now.” I said. Alec chuckled and kissed my forehead.

“Not in a million years, his ego is more fragile than his nose.” He murmured against my skin. I hadn’t been happy for a very long time after that. Dragged away from my home against my will and told it was all for a mate bond I hadn’t been ready to accept. I was cruel, very cruel, and I called Alec all sorts of filthy names. Neither him nor Jane had ever really done me wrong, yet still I rarely addressed them as anything other than ‘witch’ or ‘terrors 1 and 2’. I spent the majority of my days avoiding as many people as I could really, though I found Marcus to be quite calming and consequently ended up with the Masters’ more often than not. It was with their encouragement I ended up confronting my two-arch nemesis, their gentle prodding that had led me into Alec’s arms in the end.

“God I’m sure your mother would weep if she could see you now!”

“She did! She wept and pleaded with the villagers tying us to the stake until they caved her head in with stones. How about yours?”

I cringed slightly, the memory as fresh as if it had been just yesterday. Jane had looked ready to roast me that day, while Alec had cut me down to size with his words. Their mother’s fate, their deaths, they were nothing such of tragic incidents that should never have occurred, not to these two. It had triggered a memory I had thought had faded as most other human memories had, though I could see no eyes in the soft, familiar features of my mother’s face given I couldn’t remember the colour of them. She had been reaching for me in my dreams for years, that single bloodied hand protruding from the wreckage of a car only I had escaped from haunted me to this day. How far I had strayed from the woman she would have wanted me to become.

“How could you forgive me?” I asked finally. Alec raised his eyebrows.

“For punching Demetri in the face? Quite easily. I found it entertaining.” He answered.

“Not for that! For…everything else. I was nothing short of difficult and downright cruel to you.” I reminded him. Alec tilted his head, quietly making a noise of understanding. It wasn’t so long ago Alec had asked me to marry him, at least, five years didn’t seem all that long for a vampire. He shifted till I was facing him, straddling his lap and chest to chest with our noses almost touching.

“I forgave you because I loved you, even then. I didn’t see cruelty, I saw hurt that never truly healed. Our scarred hearts were made for one another, even if you weren’t ready to accept it.” He murmured.

“But all those awful names I called you…” I sighed, closing my eyes as shame ate away at my insides. Alec chuckled.

“Some were quite inventive, I’ll give you that,” he said wryly, “Y/N…you replaced every bad memory with a good one. The time you gifted me that bookmark because you knew how much I loved to read? The memory of our first walk in the Garden’s together where you taught me all about gardening and when the best time of year to plant certain flowers was. Our first kiss, the first time you held my hand even. You made the effort to make it right.” He kissed my nose sweetly before capturing my lips with his. His every kiss had been intoxicating since our very first one, the sweet taste of his mouth on mine addictive, the way his lips moved a hypnotic dance I could forever get lost in performing with him over and over. When we parted I pressed my forehead to his.

“I do love you, you know.” I swore. Alec flashed me a smile.

“I know, you impossible little brat,” he teased, tugging my hair lightly, “Now will you please listen to what I’ve been so desperately trying to ask you all day now?” My eyes rolled, but I nodded.

“Make it worth my while, baby.” I teased.

“Don’t, you know I hate when you call me that,” he warned, though his lips twitched upwards, “Y/N, my impossibly stubborn, talented little beauty. I’ve never been in doubt you love me, and I hope I’ve never given you reason to doubt that I love you just as much. You challenge and enrage me daily, yet you are also my greatest comfort and strength when I need you to be. So stop being so bloody awkward and marry me already!”

“That wasn’t a question.” I pointed out, eyebrows raising. Alec groaned exasperatedly, his head falling back against the back of the sofa. My head tilted slightly.

If my day of reflection had done anything, it was show me how far I had come. I was no longer the same spoiled little girl I had once been. I had become a protector of our kind, and my journey with Alec had humbled my tongue. I was perhaps wiser, far kinder. I had not felt worthy of the mantle before but seeing him beneath me now, my love so ardent in his affection and persistent in his showing of it, I realised I had no need to be afraid – I had proven my worth to Alec tenfold. Gripping his chin, I forced him to look at me. He looked rather frustrated.

“This is the modern era Alec,” I scolded, “I will never say yes to your proposal.”

“But-“

“Because you are going to be saying yes to mine. Marry me, Alec.” I didn’t ask, more stated it. I knew he wouldn’t say no. With another exasperated groan he shook his head.

“You do make me work for it don’t you? So long as I slip a ring on your finger I really don’t care who asks who. Fine, I’ll marry you.” He leaned in but I pressed a single finger to his lips, preventing him from kissing me. His eyebrows arched into his hairline, almost as if to say ‘what now?’.

“It’ll be a Winter wedding.” I decided. A brief smile flashed his lips upwards.

“Spring.” He retorted.

“And the bridesmaids will wear emerald green.” I continued.

“Peach.” He countered, his smile growing as I pulled my finger from his lips.

“Oh and I want diamonds Alec, they’re a girls best friend.” I grinned, our noses brushing now.

“You’ll get a cereal box ring and be happy with it for all the waiting you’ve made me do.” He huffed. I didn’t get to protest, not when he smothered my mouth with his own, both of us laughing as we let the past be and looked forward to our future instead.

#twilight #twilight fanfiction #volturi #alec volturi #x reader #alec volturi x reader #vladimir #stefan #the romanians #dracula 1 and 2

[plush-rabbit]

A Broken Night

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety

Word Count: 2K

A/N: Guess who just finished having an anxiety attack before and after writing this (it was me;))

You’ve seen Tomura in his highs and lows, you’ve witnessed him spliced and bleed, you’ve seen him stand tall and act aloof. You’ve witnessed him scratching at his skin as if he were covered in acid that boiled his skin, until it bled and stained his fingertips an awful color, where you bandaged him and held him, keeping your own tears in check because this was about him- you had to stay strong for him while he broke and rebuilt himself in your arms. You’ve seen throw objects- disintegrating before they even had the chance to reach halfway across the room. You’ve seen the side where he holds onto you like a scared child, clinging desperately to your back with a finger curled up even after he’s regained control of his quirk- too scared that his emotions would win over and you’d disappear from him- as he hides in your chest, your shoulder, or on the curve of your neck. You hear him sniffle and all you can offer is to hold him tight and tell him you’ll stay here, that you have him right now. He rises and looks away from you, eyes never meeting yours but the tears still linger on your skin and clothes and they fade slowly. You’ve seen him after a win, a wide grin hidden by a hand and he’s enthusiastic, bouncing on his legs like a child going to a theme park. He holds you and presses kisses all over your face in private, and you can feel his grin with every kiss. He holds you close at night and he talks about his plans, he talks about the world and in between the space of sleep and consciousness, he looks at you with soft eyes and a smile to match and when he whispers words of adoration to you, he lets his mask slip and he loves you.

You can deal with him when he has a good day. You can hold him in your arms and tell him you love him back, you can brush the hair out of his face and kiss at every scar. His bad days are harder. You never know quite what to say to him. You can’t promise him that everything will be okay because that requires you knowing that everything will work out and you can’t lie to him. So you hold him and when he sobs, and he digs the heels of palms into your back, when he has to bite your shoulder to muffle his cries, you hold back your tears and you bury yourself into him, you try to wish away his pain, to let you take half of it, even a fraction. The man who sneers at society wants to be held and coddled, wants reassurance and love just like everyone else and you can only give him reassurance that you’re still there- that you aren’t going anywhere until death do you part. His brushes his lips over your marks, mumbling an apology that can hardly be heard sometimes, but when he kisses the blooming bruises, you run your lips over his knuckles and his shoulders droop with relief. You forgive him and you always will. 

Everyone has different coping mechanisms and even if it isn’t healthy, you don’t want to push him away. You don’t want to make the fear and anxiety in his heart swallow him whole. He’s always been emotional, no matter how many times he tries to hide it, he’ll always show who he is. He wears his heart on his sleeve, he guards it but with the slightest scuff, he’s cracking and curling tighter inwards.

You enter the hideout, a skip in your steps until Twice remarks loudly when you enter that Shigaraki is “losing it and if we’re lucky, he’ll destroy another building”. You look at the others who simply turn away, hands extended outward daring you to go see for yourself. Your heart drops and you anxiety spikes and courses through your veins. You run to him rapidly, your steps slamming into the floor beneath you, cursing in your mind that you should start doing yoga again the minute your calves begin to burn and your heart races. He can’t spiral. Not now. Not when everything is falling into place. But then you enter the room and he’s spinning. 

Ash is on the floor, half broken items that start or end in ash, broken before they had a chance to fully decay. He looks at you and you your heart stops, your survival instincts are telling you to run away. His glare is enough to stop a bataillon from attacking, it’s enough for you to want to cower. But then he raps out your name and he sounds so broken. His eyes are dark and rimmed red, his mouth pulled into a pained frown and he stumbles towards you. Tears stream down and on his arm, he has bite marks, a quick glance to the pillow and you see it’s wet with saliva. His hair is disheveled and sticks up at all sides. He looks like something out of a horror movie with the environment makes him appear all that much more dangerous. He looks vulnerable and his hand twitches at his side, his eyes glossy and trembling as he stands. You shut the door and lock it with a click and you turn to him and you open your arms.

You hold him. He buries himself into the soft spot between your neck and shoulder and you hush him, rubbing circles on his back while he tries to muffle his whimpers by pressing deeper into you. His words slur and you listen, his arms are limp at his side and he’s hunched over. He shakes in your arms and his cries are quiet and broken gasps, little high pitched noises of agony escaping from him.

“Tomura,” you whisper gently, “you can hold me, love. I trust you.” You squeeze your arms tighter around him and he lets out a choked gasp and his hands are pressing into your back, sliding down to your waist, moving and tickling at your sides and then they find their place, nestled underneath your shirt on the bottom on your back. 

You rock him gently, planting your hands firmly on his side and pressing your nose into his hair. You hope he doesn't feel how your heart races. It’s a painful thing to see him like this. Someone so big and strong to just crumble away when everything piles on. You think it's a cruel joke that he’s been allowed to suffer for so long.

You take baby steps forward, cooing at him when he whines and holds you tighter. You just need to make it to the bed and it’ll be okay. You two will be okay. It’s a promise.

It’s a short trek that makes it feel as if you’ve traveled a thousand miles and it makes your already sore muscles ache and scream a bit more. You hold him up, his body slouched and legs that drag across the floor and offer no more than a shuffle. The back of his legs hit the bed and he sits. He lowers his head and his hair cascades down and hides him from the world. He shakes and his cries have died into piteous whimpers. His hands slip from your back and rest in front of him. 

You crouch and hold his wrists, sliding your fingers down the back of his hand and rests over his fingers. “Tomura,” you lower your voice when he flinches, “I need you to look at me, okay? Just a glance.” He curls deeper into himself and your lips are tugged into a frown. “Can I hold you again?” He nods.

You sit next to him, and he turns to bury himself in your shoulder. He whines and nestles himself further into your touch when your hands run down his hair. You’re careful to avoid his neck, you didn’t see if he had done anything but you wouldn’t put it past him to slip into his old habits. 

“Are you hurt?” You ask, twirling a strand of his hair around your finger.

He moves closer to you and you put your legs over his. “No. Just a few scratches but they aren’t bad.” He breaths warm air onto your skin. “I promise,” he adds.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You shush him when his muscles tense. “We don’t have to. It’s okay.”

“Can you just talk to me?”

“Praise or nonsense?”

“Just affirmation," he whispers, "please,” his voice cracks with the added word and you kiss the crown of his head.

"You're good Tomura. You're safe. I love you. Every part of you. Scars and all." You hold him tighter and he shakes his head. You can talk nonsense to him, tell him your thoughts and talk about your favorite movie until he falls asleep, but words of affirmation is where you get tongue tied. "Tomura," you mumble against the top of his hair, "I love you. I'm here right now, you're in my arms and it's going to work out." He moves closer to you and the grip around you loosens. "Whatever happened, it doesn't matter. We can work it out. You aren't alone anymore. You don't have to do anything alone. Just, for today, let me take care of things, okay?" He lets out a shaky breath and you can feel your skin dampen with burning tears. "I know you don't want to talk about it, but you have to eventually, okay? But for right now, you just stay here and calm down?" You move away from his grasp and he looks up at you with  a tired expression. "And then later we can take a shower."

He shifts out your grasp and curls into a pillow, letting his hair fall to the side and it sticks to his skin. His breathing is deep, and he stiffens when you place a hand on his back. 

Your fingers trail down his spine and move under his shirt, rubbing the skin underneath and tracing formless shapes onto him. 

"I don't know how to explain it," he croaks, voice hoarse and in a low whisper.

"I'll wait as long as I need to." You soothe over his hair and move it away from his face. 

"Can you do me a favor?" His hands curl into loose fists and he lets out a shaky breath.

"Of course, my love." Your hand slides out of his shirt and rests above. "What is it?" 

"Can you wash my hair?" A red hue spreads across his face and he shuts his eyes tight as if awaiting for ridicule.

His face softens and he relaxes into the bed when you press a kiss against his cheek, letting your lips linger on his tear stained face. “Of course. Whatever you want.” You rise from the bed and his hand reaches out towards you, fingers slipping into your palm and sliding off of your fingertips. “Let me go get you water.”

“No, just please,” he rolls over and faces you, “I just… for a bit, okay?” His tongue peeks out and wets his lips. His hand lays limp on the bed and his fingers tap against the bed.

You sigh with a gentle smile curving in your lips. “Of course,” you slowly crawl onto the bed and rest on your side, your arms opening and letting out a soft chuckle when Tomura nuzzles into your chest.

His breathing is gentle and his arms rest lightly on your hips, fingers curling around your waistband and curving upwards onto your skin and making goosebumps rise on your skin. You hold him in your arms and run your hands down his hair, letting the strands fall softly on his back and slide down onto the comforter. His leg comes in between yours and he sighs when you press your weight on him.

“We should get a weighted blanket,” you murmur into him.

“I’ll add it to the shopping list,” he whispers, his voice heavy and words slurring together.

“Get some rest Tomura,” you hold him tight in your arms and bring him closer to you, “I’ll be here.”

#shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki imagines #tw anxiety #kinda #but i thought i should add #burnout from school is real #my school therapist told me and i sobbed #so this was lowkey #cathartic for me #i have an ask #asking about hc for him #and like the more i wirte #the more he solidifies for me #so i'll probably answer my thoughts about him later #its an old ask

[iron-mum]

I wish you would write a fic where Tony and kid Peter are being adorable father and son as retribution for the angst you’ve made me suffer through in the past hah! (JK I love you and your angst! 💛)

Well, well, well. What do we have here, eh? A request for adorable? I'm not sure, I'm very good at that 😌

Here's SIMTony who would stop at nothing to help his unwell son, Peter get better. Even if it meant using Extremis.

P.S. ILY3000 💕

In the final throes of the graveyard shift at the hospital floor, the elevator pinged for its frequent lone visitor. The front desk staff, whilst tense and sitting up suddenly straighter, knew not to actually engage. No ID was needed for their boss, one of them barely suppressing a gulp as his determined strides headed for the private room that had been deliberately placed near to the room equipped for every possible kind of emergency. Once inside, he carefully shut the door silently and took a seat at the bedside.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Sharp blue eyes shifted from the persistent buzzing of the most technologically advanced medical equipment anyone, anywhere could offer before looking back down to something far more invaluable and precious. Tony’s entire world. His purpose in life. The little boy on the bed lay motionless, breathing slowly and evenly, nose occasionally scrunching up at the discomfort of the oxygen mask upon him. He should have been cocooned in a hug from his father but instead his son, Peter, was littered with wires attaching him to the very best modern medicine had to offer.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Pale, soft skin with the daintiest of freckles stood out against the dark curls spread across the far too big pillow. The small fingers of his left hand had loosely closed around the calloused thumb of his father, letting him know that whilst he had been rendered weak from illness, he was still aware of his comforting presence. Tony’s index finger gently glided across the small knuckles, willing himself to see a tiny curve of the lips on his son’s face.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

This had been the Avengers fault. Peter’s current critical condition. The young boy had been on a school trip when a battle had broken out and the wannabe heroes managed to cause more destruction than lives saved. A chemical explosion had landed most of the class in hospital and many of them had ended up becoming very unwell. Unfortunately for Peter, he already suffered many ailments so even under the wing of Stark’s finest medical personnel, the struggle had taken a toll. The genius shook his head as thoughts of revenge started to sprout from the many seeds that had been planted since the catastrophic incident. He shelved the many ideas he had that would lead to the demise of the reckless group once his kid was better.

It had been hours when the sound of a nurse's footsteps acted as the catalyst that would remove Tony from the room so he could head back to his lab. As he reluctantly moved his hand away, there was no reaction. Not even a twitch from the slender child. Bending down, he tentatively stroked a small amount of the exposed skin that was available on the boy’s face before planting a light kiss on his forehead. By the time the nurse was opening the door to the room to complete the routine checks, any sign of a visitor would be long gone.

The moment Tony was back in his workshop, he strode towards his desk. Music started to reverberate from the ceiling, the sound greatly appreciated compared to the low hum and incessant beeping from the emotionless devices that were currently keeping his son alive.

Tony didn’t believe in a higher power other than himself. So in no way, shape or form was he ever going to accept that he couldn’t save Peter from the incurable illness now ravaging his frail body. Feeling powerless was simply not an option.

Rolling up the sleeve to his top, the genius opened a drawer and pulled out a device meant for extracting blood as painlessly as possible. Not that pain meant much to him these days. No pain would ever compete with a parent having to watch their child deteriorate every single second of every single day.

Satisfied with the draw, Tony placed it into a diagnostic machine of his own making. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass of his workshop, eyeing it like he was in the most intense staring contest of his life. Jaw clenching, his arm shot out allowing liquid metal to glide across his skin before firing a repulsor at the glass and shattering it. There was an element of irony to everyone loving his face except himself in the minimal but intrusive “what if” moments that surrounded his current situation. With a crack of his neck, his arm remained outstretched so the Endo-Sym armour could return to it’s housing tank.

“Boss, the results are back,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. informed as the music lessened in volume. “No adverse reactions detected still. The chemical composition indicates that the Extremis is unchanged in it’s integration with you on a genetic level and continues to remain stable.”

“And the sample from Peter?” Tony asked, confident that he knew what the answer would be.

“Also remaining stable.”

“Alert the staff intending to see Peter following tonight's shift that their presence will not be needed,” the genius demanded as he mentally reiterated the next steps of his plan in his head. Lips curled into devilishly handsome grin at his victory, eyes crinkling at the sides. The smile only softened when his eyes drifted to a framed picture Peter had drawn of the both of them. He’d done it.

“Certainly, boss,” the AI had responded without any acknowledgement. Tony was too busy in thought. Not only was the Extremis flowing through his own veins, leaving him feeling at perfect health. But soon, it would be doing the same for Peter too. Pain free, peak performance and at complete and optimal health.

“Have there been any sightings of the Avengers in the last hour? I feel a splash of revenge is in order for this special occasion?” The holo-screens in front of him started to flicker as social media sites were searched and hashtags refreshed repeatedly. Hulk had been trending within the hour and Hawkeye in the last eleven minutes.

"Well, how about that?" he grinned gleefully. "I really am being spoiled for choice."

Whilst the genius had been certain F.R.I.D.A.Y. had relayed the message to the morning staff, Tony still found himself exhaling sharply at the sight of someone sat by Peter’s side reading his file. The thin bag of Extremis in his hand was shifted into his back pocket as quickly as humanly possible. The good feeling from beating the shit out of one of the Avengers, plus the buzz of providing Peter with a cure that no meagre doctor had been able to, shifted into a tension as tried to work out who it was.

Their face was narrow with sharp features and glasz eyes remarkably penetrating when they met his perusing stare. His black hair had been combed back neatly, the sides of his temples a distinct light grey. The well fitted suit looked designer even for Tony’s impeccable standards.

“Your services are no longer required,” he affirmed with a dismissive flourish of the hands before the man could even introduce himself.

“I’m sorry?” the other man replied without hesitation, closing the file and rising from the chair. Tony’s chair. If he’d been expecting any pleasantries or introductions, he was thoroughly mistaken. Tony was already locked onto Peter, the gentle rise of his chest a welcoming sight as always. He refused to allow his attention to be divided, ignoring the piercing stare boring into him now. “I have an oath to this patient. He critically needs help from the best in all fields. He needs my help.”

The genius turned at that, an eyebrow raised as he looked the doctor up and down. He certainly held himself strongly for someone who had that much audacity in addressing the owner of everything within his current vicinity.

“Are you new around here… Doctor Strange?” He asked disingenuously, eyes narrowing as he scrutinised the name badge. The letters ‘VISITOR - Dr Stephen Strange’ jotted on the bottom, likely the reason he hadn’t got his AI’s memo. The receptionist who let him in would be fired whether it was her fault or not.

“Unlike everyone else in this building, no, I don’t work for you” the doctor shot back tersely. “However, you were so insistent on my consultation that, somehow, I found my diary completely cleared of all surgeries that were booked in.”

“Well, you can now stick them back in your diary. We’re done here.”

“I know this is difficult,” the doctor started, tone suddenly softer as if he were hoping a change of tact would get through. “You brought me in for my expertise, so use them.”

“I’m the most intelligent, capable person on the planet. I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone.”

“Your arrogance surpasses all the rumours and expectations I had of you,” Strange snapped back incredulously. Apparently nothing was going to get through. “Your child is-”

“You know, it would be a real shame if you were to lose your medical licence, wouldn't it, doctor?” Tony sneered dangerously low. This ungrateful little shit was going to get it for not only wasting his time and energy, but also his son’s. An insignificant speck like the rest of the world.

“Are you threatening me?” the doctor replied doing his best to keep his tone cool and unflinching when the other man removed all personal space between them. The lack of intimidation he was feeling only pissed Tony off more.

“Let’s not test my resolve, doctor.” Despite feeling completely wrong about leaving considering Peter’s condition, Dr Stephen Strange tucked the file he’d been reading under his arm and left the room in just a few strides. Tony had spotted the hand diving for a phone as the door shut behind him and clenched his fists in disdain.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., be a darling and ensure Doctor Douchebag doesn’t make it back home,” Tony demanded followed by a nonchalant sniff.

“Yes, boss. His phone has also unexpectedly lost all signal so will not be usable anytime soon.”

Satisfied with the course of action his AI had taken, Tony locked the door to his son’s room for good measure. He eyed the current equipment before making his move. One of the drips currently providing Peter with much needed medicine was switched to make way for a sample of the Extremis that Tony had meticulously created and tested on himself. He peered at his son, swallowing thickly that this would all be worth it.

Bag secured, the first few drops started instantly, the older man watching as they flowed along the thin tubes before entering the cannula imposed on Peter’s hand. The skin began to glow orange, the lava looking trail gliding all the way up the arm’s before entering the chest. Daring a glance at the monitors, Tony noted an instant improvement in the readouts. A smile spread across his face as sheet-white, sickly skin started to immediately brighten.

Peter’s big, brown doe eyes suddenly shot open as he took a huge gulp of air, eyes landing on his father who was remarkably in focus for the first time in his life without the aid of glasses. Tony removed the oxygen mask so he could take his son’s face in fully for the first time in well over a month.

“Dad?” the young boy croaked, clearly a little disoriented from the abrupt wake up.

“Hey, buddy,” Tony whispered, voice cracking with emotion as he closed the distance between them.

Peter lunged at his father, his small arms wrapping tightly around the genius’ neck and face burying into his chest. It had been far too long since either had been able to enjoy the tender, heart-bursting feeling of overwhelming, unconditional love from one another.

“I love you, kiddo.” Tony gushed as one of his hand’s lovingly cupped the back of Peter's head holding him as close as possible. The other enveloped around his back, his thumb slowly stroking up and down. When the older man's hand started to trail through Peter's hair, the boy somehow managed to burrow even closer. Tony soothingly lifted curls between his fingers and then let them ping back as new life continued to circle through his son’s body.

“I love you too, dad,” Peter whispered, a strain evident in his voice that Tony hadn’t been expecting. When he leant back, he saw the likely cause. Now unnecessary wires were tugging at his child’s skin.

“Let’s get these off you, bud. You don’t need them anymore,” he promised softly as he carefully went to work at removing the monitoring equipment clips and stickers. Peter’s curious eyes followed every step of the way, surprisingly not wincing even when some of the tougher stickers were peeled away. Although he was too young to even begin comprehending what had happened, he knew from vague memories he’d been hurt and that he’d slept a lot. Often he had been unsure if he was dreaming or awake when he’d hear his father read him stories, express his love and let him know how brave he was being. A slight tug on his hand drew him from his recollection as he looked down.

"I’m scared," Peter timidly admitted as he eyed up the last piece of medical equipment attached to him. The cannula in his hand.

“Here’s what we're gonna do, bud. We’re going to put on our brave faces and before you know it, it’ll be all done and over with. Can you show me your bravest, fiercest face?” Tony gently challenged, as part of his upper lip curled and he playfully growled.

The child’s dinky nose scrunched up and his lips pushed out into the biggest pout he could form. He shook his head a little and hummed in a way that likely felt fierce to him but could only be described as adorable to his dad.

"Wowzer. That was super mean, you nearly scared me!” Tony gasped dramatically, as he gestured for the boy to look down and see that the only thing on the top of his hand was a small cotton wool ball and a light pressure from his dad. Using his free hand to fish into his pocket, Tony revealed a green Paw Patrol sticker with Peter’s favourite character, Rocky, on it.

It had been a distant memory since the young boy had handed it to him, having spotted the numerous nicks and cuts that littered his hard working hands after a long day in the workshop. Extremis meant Peter wouldn’t even need it, but the placebo effect would make it worth it.

“Am I all better, daddy?” Peter asked as Tony eyed him up once more. The overwhelmed father cupped his kid’s face and planted another kiss on his forehead, relief washing over him that he was now free from the concatenation of medical instrumentation.

“You most certainly are. And that means we get to skedaddle out of here.”

Before his son could anticipate his next move, his father had scooped him up into his arms and they were making their way not only out of the room, but off of the floor for good.

They’d had a chance to change into matching casual wear and feasted on a huge breakfast before snuggling up on the sofa. Peter had selected an Octonauts movie to watch as he tucked into his father’s side and enjoyed the sound of his steady heartbeat.

It would be a couple of hours when Tony’s phone pinged with a notification he knew was F.R.I.D.A.Y. when she was being discreet. His son huffed at the movement as he shuffled to get the phone out of his pocket, muttering an apology to his kid before opening the message.

[Unfortunate accident on the Hawk’s Nest, Route 97. Vehicle crossed the barrier and rolled multiple times down the cliff’s edge before landing in the Delaware River. Initial scan from one of the Iron Sight Bot #364 shows one survivor.]

Tony’s smirk widened into a full blown smile. Peter’s heart-of-gold eyes suddenly on him, looking up from his position. It was likely a silent protest at the lack of head strokes he was suddenly receiving so the genius replied swiftly.

[Call off any emergency services and get him med-evaced here.]

“You know what I think we need. Celebratory cheeseburgers for lunch,” he announced as Peter let out a squee of joy.

#writer prompt game #thank you for sending this one in! #ill be working on the next over the weekend! 🐸

[mageofseven]

Part two of this Anon's ask! Part one with the Brothers can be found here.

Diavolo:

The prince was trying to balance the pen on top of his nose. He had been in his office for hours as he went through paperwork and the man was losing his focus.

Beep.

Yes! A distraction! The demon let his pen fall to the desk as he picked up his phone.

'Ddddd I love you 🥰'

The prince grinned.

'I love you too, my Queen! 😘' He texted back then added. 'What are you up to?'

'Wiiinne.'

Ah so that explains it. They're drinking the wine he got them for their birthday.

'Aw. You opened it without me. Aren't you naughty?'

'😔'

'What's that face for, my dear?'

'Youre t9o busyy to spend tim e wth me 😢'

The prince frowned and rose from his desk.

'Where are you? I'm coming now.'

'Ou r room.'

The prince left the room and headed down the hall to his bedroom. He stepped inside and saw his Queen sitting on the couch by the fire place, wine glass and bottle on the low table in front of them. They were sitting with their knees to their chest and staring into the fire.

Diavolo approached the couch and sat next to them.

"I'm sorry, my dear." He said softly, pulling them into his embrace. "I know I've been working a lot lately."

"It's fine..." They mumbled.

"My Queen, you're not being honest with me." He told them, pushing some hair out of their eyes and behind their ear.

"It's just...lonely." They admitted softly. "I know I have my friends to spend time with, but it's not the same. I miss you."

The prince leaned in and kissed their forehead.

"I'm truly sorry, MC." The demon apologized. "I've been putting some extra work on my plate so Lucifer will allow himself more sleep. I know it must have been a hard couple weeks for you though."

The man did this occasionally. He knew how his friend was and knew that simply asking him to sleep more wasn't enough. Even if it was extra stressful for the prince, he wanted to do what he could for his friend so he didn't have to always worry for Lucifer's health.

"No... no, I know it's harder for you; you're the one doing the work." The human laid their head on their boyfriend's chest and closed their eyes.

"I'll be fine so no worrying about me." He kissed them on the top of their head. "How about we go out to eat Friday night? I should have my work done by then."

"Okay." The human yawned.

Diavolo smiled at them.

"Okay, time to sleep. Up you go." The man stood up and carried them towards the bed, covering them up, and giving them one last kiss on the head. "Good night, my Queen."

The demon listened as his love's breath slowed as they fell asleep before he turned and left the room. As much as he wanted to lay with his human and hold them close, he now had a new purpose to his work. After all, now he had to make sure the majority of his work was done before Friday. For his Queen's sake.

Barbatos:

Barbatos was in the kitchen, making a snack for his lord and his sweet human. Lord Diavolo had invited them over for a drink so the two had been sitting outside in the garden, watching the sunset while they had some wine. The butler had no qualms with this; he knew that both his love and his master were trustworthy. That and it was part of his job to come and go so he could spend time with them as well, even if he himself was not joining in on the drinking.

The butler took the finished dish back to the garden, only to discover the table to be vacant now. Raising an eyebrow, the man sat the dish on the table.

"Perfect timing!" The prince was suddenly behind him. "Barbatos, help me find MC!"

The smaller demon raised an eyebrow.

"Is my dear alright, milord?"

"Oh yes." Diavolo grinned. "We are simply playing a human game. Hide and Seek, as they call it."

A children's game? The butler remembered his human telling him about different activities they did as a child and that was one of them.

"I see." Barbatos nodded. "I shall help you then."

He and his master split up, searching the different rooms in the castle. The demon was suddenly concerned for MC; there were a lot of rooms in this castle that are dangerous for the average demon to enter and far more than deadly for a human like them.

He started checking the rooms he most dearly wished that his love would steer clear of.

Ding.

The butler pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket. It was them.

'Barbie cmoe hide wtih me~'

Ah. Perfect timing.

'As you wish, my dear. Where are you?'

'Nnnope. You gtta say you lvoe me fust.'

The demon cracked a smile, a genuine one. Oh that human. I suppose the alcohol is making them a bit bold.

'I love you, my dear. Now tell me where I can find you?'

'Awwwwaww. I love yu t9o 😘'

His smile grew a bit more.

'This is awfully cute, my dear, but I still need to know your whereabouts.'

'The balroon~'

The ballroom? What an odd choice.

'I'm on my way, dear.'

The butler made his way to the ballroom and found his love laying on the floor in the center of the room.

"Do you require any help getting up?" He asked the human, who giggled in response.

"Nooo. Just lay down with me."

"I'm afraid I cannot--"

The human sat up and started tugging on his hand. They were really cute in this state.

"As you wish, my love." And so he laid on the floor next to them. "Now, may I ask why you chose this room to hide from my lord? There's nowhere to conceal yourself here."

MC grinned.

"That's point. He wouldn't think to look for me here."

"Ah, I see." The butler nodded. "You did well, my dear."

They giggled and snuggled up to his chest.

The two laid like that there for a while, enjoying the closeness. Eventually, the echo of the doors opening made it to their ears and they looked over to find Diavolo entering the ballroom.

"My, you two look like you are enjoying yourselves." He grinned.

"My lord--" He went to get up, but was halted by Diavolo's lifted hand.

"No, relax. Please enjoy the rest of the evening however you wish."

Barbatos let his master's words hang in the air for a moment before responding.

"Alright. Thank you, milord."

Solomon:

Asmodeus invited the sorcerer over for some drinks. In all honesty, he had planned on declining since he was close to a break through in his current magical project and didn't want to break away from it. However, the demon had let him know that MC agreed to join him and Solomon had to admit, he was curious about how that would work out. He had never actually seen his little Minx drink before.

This should be interesting, he thought to himself before telling Asmo that he'd be there later that night. When the time came, the three of them were sitting in Asmo's room, drinking and chatting together. The three laid together in a comfy pile on the bed. The sorcerer had to admit, it was a fun night. Asmo got a little handsy, but nothing that the couple wasn't comfortable with; the Avatar of Lust knew their boundaries after all.

At one point, MC had left to go grab something from their room. Fifteen minutes had gone by however and they still hadn't returned. Excusing himself from Asmo, the man went to MC's room to look for them, but it was empty. Strange. He took out his phone.

'MC, where have you gone to?'

A couple moments later, he got a reply.

'Seccret'

'Ah so you're hiding then.' He texted back, smiling. 'I see you're feeling playful.'

The man started searching the house, even knocking on Leviathan's door to ask if he's seen you. When he came up empty handed, the human man could only frown.

He took out his phone again.

'Little Minx, please tell me where you're hiding.'

'Nno'

He pursed his lips as he read that.

'Is something wrong?'

He didn't get a reply for a few minutes. When it did come, the man froze at the words.

'Soli, do yuo love mme?'

The man took a minute to respond.

'What brought this on?'

Nothing. He texted them again.

'MC, please talk to me.'

'I lvoe you, btu yuo makke me sadd 😔'

Something in the sorcerer deflated when he read those words. It took him a while to move past them, but when he did, he was ready to take action.

'Let's talk about this face to face. Where are you?'

'My romm'

Their room? Did they sneak back in there while he was preoccupied? Regardless, he headed back in the direction of MC's room and peeked back inside. This time, he saw light shining through their closet door. Solomon raised an eyebrow at this, but approached the closet.

"MC, will you please leave the closet?" He asked, but recieved no reply, causing him to sigh and quietly open the door.

He found them sitting on the floor, phone in hand, but face hidden in their arms. Solomon paused, not sure about the best course of action here. He eventually kneeled down in front of them and started stroking their hair.

"MC, talk to me." He said softly.

The other human sniffled.

"I was having fun." They told him. "I was having fun with you guys and enjoying myself, but then suddenly I wasn't and bad thoughts rushed in and I couldn't handle it."

"You should of told me earlier." Solomon scooted closer to them and pulled them in for a hug. "I'm right here for you. There's no need to hide away in a dark closet."

"But... I don't wanna be a burden to you." They lifted their head to look up at their boyfriend.

"Relying on me doesn't make you a burden; it shows that I am doing my job right as a boyfriend." He looked into the distance. "Though I suppose if you think such things than I haven't been doing my job properly."

"No! I didn't mean--"

The sorcerer brought his lips to hers, silencing their protests. When they broke away, he looked down into their eyes.

"You asked me earlier if I loved you... the truth is, I am not a man who finds honesty to be an easy thing, especially when it comes to my feelings. However... I cannot deny how much I care for you. I may not say it enough during our time together, but just know that I truly love and cherish you, even in moments when it seems like all I want is to get a rise out of you. Please know this."

MC started wiping their eyes.

"Do... do you mean that?"

"Yes, little Minx." He smiled down at them. "Now please try to remember this for tomorrow. It was difficult for me to admit this one time; I'd rather not have to repeat myself."

The two sat in the closet for a little longer, the boyfriend's embrace slowly wearing away at all of MC's insecurities.

Simeon:

It was at Mammon's birthday party. The brothers had really gone all out for the second brother and though some people were surprised at this, the angel was not. As complicated as the brothers and their relationships to one another are, he knew that they each cared deeply about the others, with Mammon included, of course.

The party was still at House of Lamentation, but they provided so many food and drink options and invited many people; himself and his fellow Purgatory residents (though he made Luke go home after a while when some of the guests were being...a bit much), some work friends of Mammon's from his modeling agency, and some other demons from RAD that the angel vaguely knew.

At first, Simeon hadn't planned on staying long, but Solomon insisted that he should use this as an opportunity to have fun then whispered that the angel just might get some secret alone time with his little Lamb if he were to wait till others had drank enough to forget their absence. Solomon was the only one who knew about him and MC's relationship.

Angel and human relationships are seen as taboo in the Celestial realm. It always has been, but his Father has been a lot stricter with the Rule since the incident with Lilith. This is why he tried so desperately to keep the human at arms length.... it was all in vain though. He loved MC dearly and his little Lamb loved him back. He felt like there was no going back once he knew this. Still, they had to be careful, had to keep it all a secret from others. The two never meant for Solomon to find out, but the angel had to admit, it was almost inevitable. His human friend was commonly with him and he was a very observant man. Simeon wasn't fully sure if he was trustworthy or not, but he gave the man credit for keeping the secret this long.

So there the angel was, standing on the side lines of the the Avatar of Greed's birthday party, only occasionally chatting with others who came up to him, and watched those around them drink into oblivion.

Bing.

The man pulled his phone out of his pocket.

'I LVOE you swet angellly mn 🥰'

Simeon raised his eyebrows. It seems that his Feather has been drinking with the others. Simeon himself was not a drinker. It's not a Celestial rule for angels or anything; he just simply is not a fan of alcohol and rarely partakes in it. Because of this, the angel never stopped to think whether it was the same for MC or not.

'I love you too, my little Lamb. Where are you right now?'

'T he roff.'

His eyes widened.

'The roof, my Feather?'

'Yeess'

The angel quickly (but as inconspicuously as he could) headed towards the front door. Once he was outside, he transformed and flew above House of Lamentation, scanning its roof. He found his human laying on the segment of roof above their room.

He flew down next to them.

"My Lamb, I don't believe this is a safe place for you, especially if you've been drinking."

"I'm fine..." MC merely shook their headed. "I do this all the time."

The angel pursed his lips, but didn't say anything as they patted the space next to them. Getting the hint, he sat down next to them and stretched a wing out to cover them and hopefully shield them from the wind a bit.

"The stars look really pretty in the Devildom, don't they?" The human said softly, staring up at the night sky. "The stars are so much more colorful here than in the Human realm."

The angel followed their gaze and nodded.

"Yes, it's a beautiful sight." He agreed, staring up at the deep specs of color.

Strangely enough, each star was a dark shade of the colors associated with the Brothers. Or maybe it wasn't so strange? The Devildom has always had Avatars of the Seven Great Sins, long before the seven brothers were even born. He remembered learning that in his Devildom History class during his first year at RAD though they never mentioned anything about them having connections to the stars.

"Though... I wish I could show you the night sky of the Celestial realm some day." He added.

"I mean... can you?" They asked, not breaking their line of sight from the sky.

Simeon frowned.

"No... I don't think it'd be worth the risk." The angel answered reluctantly. "I'd rather you not be any near the Celestial realm ever again."

Before the two were dating, MC and Solomon once visited himself and Luke up in the Celestial realm and had a meal. His Lamb had only gotten to see a small glimpse of the beauty that is his home. There's so much more that he wished to show them however and now... he likely never will. He feared the gaze of Michael falling upon them, of the older angel seeing them and figuring out their relationship. Michael cared about him, but just like he supported the death of Lilith for her human endeavors, surely he would also support whatever punishment their Father would choose for him and maybe MC?

"Oh..." MC lowered their head. "Well, what's it like then? The Celestial night sky?"

Simeon paused a minute, letting himself collect his words.

"It's... here in the Devildom, the days give just enough light to navigate the world, but the night is as dark as the void." He began. "In the Celestial realm, everything is bright and uplifting during the day and the nights don't so much get dark, but rather, the light gets dimmer, more gentle, and the pastel stars are seen through the clouds above."

"You get to live in a world like that?" They turned their head to meet his eyes. "It sounds so beautiful. We have nothing like that in the human world. Do you have any moons though?"

"No, just the stars and the sun our Father made for us." He answered. "The Devildom moons seem so big and foreboding to me however. I don't know if we are missing out much in that regard."

"The moon in my realm isn't like these three though." His Feather gestured to the orbs in the sky. "Ours is not as big and... I guess you could say it provides a gentle light for night time. I think it's because it reflects some of our sun's rays, but I can't remember for sure."

"It must be quite the sight, my Lamb." The angel gave them a soft smile.

"Could... could you come see it with me?"

His smile fell.

"I'm... I'm not sure." He admitted. "I don't think I could come up a secure enough excuse to ask for such clearance."

The human didn't say a thing, just pushed their knees up to their chest. Simeon used his wing to push them close to him and brought his hand to their chin. He had them face him before leaning in and giving them a gentle kiss.

"I love you... but this is all we'll ever get, isn't it?" They asked softly.

Simeon rested his chin on top of their head and stroked their hair.

"I love you too, my little Lamb." He told them. "And I... I do not what the future holds for us, but I will give my all to make it a happy one."

~

Masterlist

#obey me #obey me otome #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me simeon

[kikilefangirl]

The Witch Who Won’t Part 4

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

(Word Count: 2064)

You woke up to a flood of texts, calls, and voicemails. Most were from your cousin, but a few came from Marcel. Tossing your phone on the other side of the couch, you rubbed your temple. You hadn’t even made it to your bed last night. Your puff was matted and misshapen.

You rubbed your eyes and stood up. A pounding headache and nausea made you keel over and do a mad dash to your trash can. You yakked up your dinner. After you brushed your teeth, you seized up.

The presence of an Original. Bounding from your bathroom to your front door, you flung it open. You don’t know why you expected Klaus. You had burned that bridge, indefinitely.

Elijah stood at your door offering a handkerchief. You cocked your head to the side and clicked your tongue.

“Whatever you want, I’m not interested.” You spat out.

Thinking back to the night before, you crossed your arms. The reality that Klaus had kissed you, and that he did it to handicap you was too much. Now his brother was at your door too.

“Y/N, would you please invite me in?” Elijah asked. His critical gaze had something else behind it, true concern.

You knew it wasn’t for you. Originals were only truly worried about other Originals. Klaus.

“I imagine Niklaus has upset you. I do apologize on his behalf, he has a, uh, talent for such things.” He said.

Elijah still had his hand out, still offering the handkerchief. You stepped closer, and took it. You wiped your mouth with it and set it on the counter.

“Come in.”

You surprised yourself. The thought of an Original having permanent access to your home made your stomach turn, but this time it was unavoidable. Elijah stepped through the threshold and unfastened his suit jacket as he sat down at the table.

You watched him, cautiously. Elijah wasn’t Klaus. You knew better than to make assumptions about him, certain concessions simply would not be granted.

“I beg you to consider forgiveness. I fear Niklaus requires it.” He replied. Elijah ran a hand across his bottom lip.

“He did what he wanted and now he’s dealing with the consequences.” You were firm.

Elijah scoffed and leaned back in the chair. You didn’t back down. You couldn’t. You sucked in a breath.

“Esther has him,” He ran a finger along the table, his daylight ring more prominent than before, “Aided by our brothers Kol and Finn, my mother has stood against Niklaus.”

Elijah began tapping his fingers. He pulled the corners of his mouth back with thinly veiled contempt. Esther was the original witch. You had learned your history and now it was sitting in your living room.

Esther was the woman who hid Klaus’s true identity, and when it was revealed, bound it from him for a thousand years. The man he had become––the creature that could kiss you one second and shackle you the next was partly her doing.

“She will ruin him. Again. She’ll ruin him again.” Elijah hissed.

On the surface, he appeared perfectly composed. Elijah was the pristine elder brother—the eldest due to Finn’s absence—constantly working for his siblings’ happiness. Klaus too, had his own persona to hold onto as well.

But the truth underneath remained: Where Elijah was cool determination, Klaus was wilder, freer.

“Pass me that grimoire. I’ll see what I can do.”

After a millennia of separation, you knew Elijah was right. Klaus was not going to recover the little bits of him he had left. He had a daughter out in the world who needed him.

“Call Rebekah. She should be here, too. And Vincent.” You said.

Turning on your heel you head down the hall toward the bathroom. Just because you were going to spend your whole day dealing with Originals, your basics weren’t going by the wayside.

                                                         …

Nothing in Gammy’s grimoire could have prepared you for the Original Witch or what she had reduced Klaus to, either.

Esther was in the body of a witch you knew. You flared your nostrils. Dead witches taking the bodies of living ones always made you upset.

“We came here for Klaus.” You announced.

She stepped away from her herbs, though you couldn’t see which ones. Even in another body, Esther was full of the kind of grace and danger you had previously seen with Klaus.

“I am afraid my son is unavailable.” She replied. Her eyes darted between you and Elijah, and even he was stifled by her presence.

“Mother, release Niklaus to us. Immediately.” He said.

“In your custody you and your siblings, especially Niklaus, have been a blight on this earth. You leave nothing but blood and death behind you. I will not be idle anymore.” She let out.

You could feel her anger, and oddly enough her love for her children. Esther was probably a good mother once, but her protectiveness ruined them and her.

You concentrated on Klaus’s familiar aura, drawing it closer and closer to you. Esther must have noticed because her eyes were trained on you.

“My, my, you are powerful indeed. And in love. Nevertheless, the strength in you does not wish to oppose me, nor I you.” She offered. While she spoke you curled your hand and twisted.

The stone wall behind her slid open, revealing a chained Klaus. The bitter part of you that enjoyed seeing him chained after what he did to you was quickly overpowered by a wave of worry. His golden irises burned with rage and hatred even as subdued as he was.

“If you truly loved my son, you would want him to be free of his curse. A pretty young witch like you would want children of your own and a husband capable of loving you without the threat of violence all around you!” Esther continued.

For a split second you hesitated. You did want that and maybe with him. But Esther knew him as a child, and longed for that child. You met the monster first, and loved him anyway. Whatever that made you definitely wasn’t normal.

“You let a man believe the one child he saw true potential in, the one child knew he could mold in his image, was his. And Mikael hated him for it.” You admitted.

Saying the words out loud made Esther pause in shock. Mikael’s name and his function in her life had the same effect on her as it did Klaus. Taking advantage of her vulnerability, you unleashed the brunt of your magic.

Elijah’s expression was cold and unflinching. He knew it was true just the same as you did. Esther may have the title of the Original Witch, but she thrived off the shared power of all witches. Dead and alive. You could draw on them, too. You thought of Vincent, of Gammy and beyond.

Esther flew through the air and slammed against the wall. Elijah immediately went to Klaus, breaking the chains that held him.

Before he was completely free, Esther countered. Her strength coupled with your overexertion made you fall to your knees in pain. You could feel her magic weighing you down. Something wet dripped from your nose. Blood.

You weren’t backing down from her. You felt a tugging in your gut and threw your head back. Esther wasn’t going to stop you from taking Klaus. You called on your ancestors and their power just as she did, with renewed focus. Wind whipped around you, dust swirled at your feet. The jars of herbs and dark objects shook and some shattered to the ground. Letting out a guttural cry, raw power radiated from you and it pulsed through the room and and the entire French Quarter.

You collapsed with exhaustion, your body landing on the hard floor. You were fading fast, you could barely keep your eyes open. As your vision blurred you could see Klaus speeding toward Esther. The chains were still on him, but the ends had been broken off.

Holding a thousand lifetimes of pain and betrayal, Klaus snapped his mother’s neck and she went limp in his arms.

You smiled, as you had done your part. Cold hands were the last thing you remembered before everything went black.

                                                        …

You woke up in a large bed in the Mikaelson compound, completely alone.

You were wearing your pajamas from home. You stepped on the floor barefoot, flinching at the cold.

“Good evening, Y/N. I must say we were beginning to worry.”

Elijah. He offered you his arm and you took it. Your legs still felt like jelly. He led you to another empty room, stopping at the threshold.

“Niklaus, do not be rude to our guest. She did save our lives.” Elijah called out. So this was Klaus’s room.

He did not immediately appear. Preparing yourself, you let go of Elijah and stumbled into the room. You made it to a stool. Nearby were beautiful paintings and three full blood bags. As you admired the artwork, Elijah took his leave. As soon as he did, Klaus finally appeared.

“Careful, love. I did that one in 1823, it’s fragile.” His tone was his usual charming self, but his sunken in eyes, and restricted movements told the story.

“Here.” You slid a blood bag over to Klaus.

He poured it into a glass, but he made no moves to drink it. He swirled the liquid, squeezing so hard on the glass it broke in his hand.

You jumped, but Klaus wasn’t fazed. Instead he was staring at a spot on the floor, expressionless. He sat slack jawed and deflated. He was none of the wild hybrid—whether he was angry or vindictive or proud or jealous.

The man across from you was nothing at all.

“Klaus. You need to drink.” You whispered.

There was something fragile about him you had only seen glimpses of. Klaus always fell back on his default, but this was different.

“Klaus!” You boomed, bolting upright so fast your chair fell to the ground.

You stalked up to Klaus with fear as an afterthought. He was beginning to have that effect on you, which was probably for the worst. You wrapped your hands around his neck and jaw. He wouldn’t meet your gaze.

“Esther was right to call you a monster. She was wrong to say that was all you were. Look at me, Klaus.” You pleaded.

You were nose to nose now, and once you had his eyes on yours you wasted no time.

“Klaus! She was wrong! Esther was wrong. You have a daughter who will always love her daddy. Your siblings won’t turn away from you. I won’t, either.” You said desperately.

Esther was a woman whose back was against the wall and Klaus was her secret keeper, her ultimate secret keeper. And he, unlike Mikael’s children, was hers to isolate, a punishment Klaus could never bear from his mother.

You sucked in a breath, and bore your neck out for him.

“Drink.”

The quick pain as the hybrid’s fangs pierced your neck was followed by pure euphoria. You could feel him take every drop of blood that oozed out. Klaus’ arms wrapped around you, pulling you onto his lap. It was as if you two were the only two in the world, and you reveled in it.

Once you began to get light headed, Klaus retracted his fangs and licked the wound. His amber eyes burned with an intensity that made you squirm at how close you were to each other. You were hyper aware of his body and your own.

Klaus smirked at your newfound discomfort and kissed you full on. You could taste traces of an iron tang on his tongue, but that didn’t stop you. You kissed him back and your heart was heavy with all the emotion and stress from the day before. He leaned into you, taking care to hold you tighter. It was the reassurance you needed. You broke away from the kiss to breathe, and you drank each other in.

Klaus wasn’t one to say thank you, and you didn’t need it. You flashed him a show stopping smile. You didn’t know what would come from your actions.

All you knew was that you had fallen for this man; you truly and wholeheartedly loved Klaus Mikaelson, and he, in his own way, loved you, too.

END

#klaus x reader #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x black!reader #klaus mikaelson x poc!reader #klaus mikaelson #TVD #tvd fanfiction #the originals