#and why searching for a blanket when you can cover your Master with your own body right 😏

[mayhemspreadingguy]

Anakin the weighted blanket

#obikin #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #sw art #star wars #mayhem art #they were both too tired to get to the bed not even mentioning getting changed. #and why searching for a blanket when you can cover your Master with your own body right 😏 #especially if the Master in question is too tired to protest 😌 #(and perhaps Obi-Wan secretly likes being weighted down by Anakin)

[emsgwenstan]

Blood and secrets

I really wanted a way to bond reader and rissa that wasn’t extremely happy but kinda down the earth and wholesome x

Summery: reader x Larissa. Reader In trouble and Larissa comes to help, gets intimate and personal. Fluffy fluff fluff my darlings.

Warnings: menstrual cycle mention, blood, insecurity issues, smoking, alcohol.

The sun is slightly shining through your dark emerald blinds, causing you to stir awake. After about a minute or so of lying in your bed readying yourself for the day to come, you sit up feeling lightheaded and a somewhat saturated feeling around your hips down to your knees, slowly peeling the blankets of your warm body you look down to what can only seem to be described as a crime scene.

Frantically grabbing at your blood soaked clothes, you start hyperventilating, smearing the liquid all over your hands and chest from grabbing at your shirt searching for air to quickly delve deep into your lungs before you pass out. You could hardly see out of your stinging teary eyes when you start searching for your phone, still on the nightstand you went to reach out to grasp it when your bloodied hand come back to view. You ask Siri to call her.

You didn’t know what you were doing. Why would she want to help you like this? Although She’s the only one who seems like she could or would help. “Hello?” Her voice was confused, “hey um… I didn’t know who else to call, I um- I need help” your voice broke sounding week and frail. “What happened y/n? Are you ok? Did you hurt yourself? Do u need me to come to your quarters?!” She asked frantically. “Only if your not busy, i don’t want to disturb you. Im sorry if I woke you, but I…I don’t feel very good Larissa.” “nonsense! Just tell me if I need to get a substitute to cover your classes?” She said matter of factly. “Yes, please”. You could hear the opening and closing of her desk drawers and the closing of her laptop on the line. “Ok darling, I will be there in two minutes alright?” She said. “Please… help me” the tears began to flow again. “I’m coming, I promise I’m coming to help you just hang tight sweetheart, I’m assuming u can’t unlock your door I’ll bring my master key. Y/n, I promise I’ll be there, just breath.” With that she hung up leaving you back to your jittery thoughts.

Larissa Weems and yourself were like each other’s admirers, close colleagues and borderline best friends. Your relationship is more on the professional side but when either of you have a stressful day or just need a break, you both came to an agreement that you would go to one another baring a bottle of wine and talk about it, support each other and complement one another. You had been working together for 4 years and still don’t know a lot of personal things that go on in your lives but the situation your in now is sure to bring your friendship to another level.

1 minute and 37 seconds, that’s how long it took for you to hear the keys jingling in the lock of your door. As it was opening wanted to warn her “wait!” You could see her hand on the edge of the door grasping it. “Just- prepare yourself.” She slowly opens the door and looked at you in utter shock, her mouth agape and eyes wide flicking from the scene before her to your own eyes. She turns to shut the door in a swift motion, running to you, bending down by your side. “Are you ok?!” She clasped your wet cheeks wiping the liquid from them. “Help me” you said in a barely audible whisper. Larissa took a hold of your wrists pulling them in a way as a signal to look at her, your eyes settled on hers as you tried to match her breathing. “I am going to help you sweet girl…do you trust me?” She was searching your eyes for permission. “Yes.”

After a few moments of Larissa thinking and reassuring you, she slowly rises from her knees and bends at the hips to lace an arm around your back and under your knees. “No Larissa, I’m to heavy, I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” You said in a small delicate and insecure whimper. “It’s fine.” She said “your going to get blood all over you.” Still trying to push her away. “So be it, I don’t care I want to help you, do u want me to help you?” She said as a rhetorical question but you still nodded. “Ok than.” Larissa lifted you of the bed and held you to her body, walking towards your bathroom, she lightly put you down on your feet, your eyes met her blood streaked dress, internally scolding yourself for how uncomfortable she must be to touch you let alone look at you.

She peered down on you and saw you looking at her clothes than down to the floor noticing the droplets in a trail from your bed. Larissa held your chin and tilted your head to look at her. “It’s ok it’s just blood, your bed can be washed, the floor can be wiped and my clothes can be cleaned or I’ll just buy another. It’s ok, but now it’s time for you to get clean, are you comfortable with me helping you? I don’t want to to loose conciseness and hurt yourself.” You close your eyes and take a deep breath “yeah that would be nice if you wouldn’t mind.” You smacked your hand on the vanity bench feeling your week knees wobble, Larissa moves just as fast putting one of her hands on you hip and the other under your arm. “I’m ok, just a little lightheaded.” She took her hands away slowly. “If this gets any worse I’m taking you to the hospital.” She said sternly but you knew she was worried.

“Will you be ok if I step out for a minute and let u undress?” She asked, you looked at her with a faint smile and nodded, she walked out of the bathroom and left the door ajar. While waiting for you she stripped your bed and gathered the sheets in a pile and grabbed a couple of tissues and wiped the remaining blood off the floor and disguarded them. You turned the shower on, this being Larissa’s queue to re-enter the bathroom. She was very attentive to make you as comfortable as possible. She got a set of fresh towels, a wash cloth, a set of underwear and a T-shirt with matching sweatpants and placed them on the bench.

You had gotten into the shower while she was gathering your clothes and just stood under the running water to help calm down, when she re-entered you turned to face the wall, feeling insecure but knowing inevitably she wasn’t going anywhere. Larissa was trying to look anywhere but you she didn’t want you to think she was starring. It was new to both of you, it’s never been easy to be naked in front of anyone for you, ‘to tall, to fat, to unconventional’. Little did you know Larissa feels exactly the same way. It was awkward to say the least, however Larissa’s caring nature provided enough comfort to ease the weirdness. Looking at herself in the mirror she glanced your way initially just to check you were alright but her eyes wandered over your bare back, ‘beautiful’, she thought, just as she was about to look away she saw your shoulders trembling. Larissa sprung into action and ripped of her dress left in nothing but her underwear, she opened the screen door and latched onto your shoulders slowly turning you around, your eyes were blood shot and full of tears, she looked down at you with furrowed brows and a knowing and understanding expression, she cupped your face with both her hands and peered into your eyes “shhh darling, it’s ok, your going to be ok” she guided your head to her chest still holding your face in her grasp. You didn’t hear her walk into the shower but you didn’t care because she was there nonetheless. You wrapped your arms around her torso and pressed you bare body to hers and just sobbed.

After she calmed you down, Larissa drew back with her hands resting at the base of your neck and her fingertips on your jaw. “It’s ok sweetheart, here.” she let you go and stepped out grabbing the wash cloth and stepped back into the shower to rejoin you, wetting and lacing it with soap she bent down to her knees not worried about the amber water pooing around her legs. She looked up at you for permission. “It’s ok I can do that-” you say before she cuts you off “please… let me?” She said lightly holding the back of your thigh. “Ok.” You said giving in, Larissa started to expunge the blood off your legs and hesitated when she was about to clean your most intimate area, but she pushed on not making a big deal about it and softly pulled around your calf to spread your legs a little. You were breathing shallowly while looking down at her, the awkwardness was out of sight because you completely trust her, your half lidded eyes took in her sight from her slightly creased brows and perused lips from concentration, adoring the small scar on her upper lip, you watched as her face contorted into a small Proud smile as she rinsed and wrung out the cloth. You grabbed some more soap and quickly washed your upper body before she stood, washing yourself of you ran your hands over your hair slicking it back out of your face, you turned to look at her with a blush. “Thank you.” You said. Larissa found your shampoo and conditioner and with out asking pumped some into her palm, you turned your back and let her lather your hair. Her nails gently caressing your scalp felt like heaven, your neck went almost limp leaning back into her touch, she turned you around and you kept your eyes closed while she rinsed your hair you dare not open your eyes.

Once you were dried and dressed larissa handed you a sanitary product and reluctantly helped you with it, “uh just wait here for a sec.” You walked out leaving her in the bathroom wrapped in a towel and her damp underwear. You retrieved a T-shirt, pair of black leggings, bra and panties. You stared down for a minute at the clothing in your hands, ‘her bust seems the same but I think- know, that the panties are to big’, you thought re-entering the bathroom handing her your clothes. “I know these are terrible but I suppose these are better than nothing… if the pants are to big I’ll get you a pair with drawstring…” you said on the verge of tears, resisting looking at her to show your weakness, as you turned to leave her in alone with privacy, she grabbed ahold of your wrist, you looked up at her confused, her head was down looking at the clothes you had given her with bewilderment than to your face. “Thank you, I- I really appreciate it.” She says with a greatful smile. You just nodded absentmindedly making your way to your bed.

Standing there for a minute you sigh looking at your bloodied bed wondering what to do before hearing Larissa’s footsteps approach, you turn around and see her holding her towel and wet undergarments and dress, the outfit you lended her hung loose on her frame but she looked comfortable. you reach out and take the towel from her, tossing it carelessly onto the pile of sheets, Larissa took another step dropping her clothes in her hands bring them up to your face, leaning in more to press her forehead to yours. Both embracing each other, soaking in the warmth and comfort, Larissa retracted just enough to kiss your forehead, such a small gesture but seemingly so intimate and delicate. “Come, I’ll have this taken care of later.” Nodding her head towards the bed and sheets. “How about we go back to my quarters, I’ll take care of you, speaking of, how do u feel?” She asked. “I feel achey and my stomach feels like contracting knots and have a headache on the way… I’d love to go with you but I’m afraid I’d be more of a burden than a guest.” You spoke. “Nonsense y/n, grab a few things you need and we’ll be on our way.” You put your phone in your pocket took a charger and a pillow as well as a unopened pack of cigarettes you kept in a drawer to your desk. Larissa regained her clothes, keys and shoes before heading to the door. “I guess we haven’t thought about the students.” You say weary of prying eyes. “Trust me darling i have, I know some shortcuts.”

You arrive in front of her office and help her with the keys, pulling them from her teeth, you smile and open the door. She dumped her clothes in a hamper near the door in her room, you were stood in the middle of it admiring the decor and the impeccable aesthetic taste when Larissa offers you a glass of water and painkillers, which you obliged. She tossed back the covers and took your things placing them on a nearby arm chair and guided you to lie down, she tucked you in and turned to leave the room. “Stay, please… stay with me.” You said. Butterflies erupted in Larissa’s stomach she looked at you in taking in your fragile state and made her way to the other side of the bed, almost to scared to touch you, she tried to stay as close to the edge as possible. “Do I make you that uncomfortable.” You said with your eyes closed and back turned. She moved closer feeling your body heat as she turned to face your back, you could feel her staring.

After a few minutes Larissa’s heart was beating out of her chest, you were slightly squirming bringing your knees as close to yourself as you could, hugging onto your cramping abdomen. She noticed and was conflicted. Larissa moved closer, pressing her front to your tense back she moved aside your arm and held onto your hip. “Will you let me try something?” She whispered softly into your ear. “Yeah…” you squeaked. She slid down the waist band of your pants and splayed her hand over your stomach. You let out a deep breath and moved you hand to be on top of hers, the warmth immediately helped. She let her head lay in the crook of your neck and you melted into her, your bodies moulding perfectly together. It wasn’t long after that you both fell asleep peacefully.

Hours passed by before you woke up, still in the same position as when you both fell asleep. The feeling of her hand on your stomach was overwhelming, you loved how kind the gesture is and how her skin felt on yours but your insecurities come back to play, you don’t have a very flattering body in your opinion. You don’t have a flat stomach or the perfect posture, you have thick thighs and stretch marks, these things after all these years are still your downfall, so scared about liking yourself or for others to like you because of it, although after Larissa insisted on helping you, it doesn’t feel like she’s judging. While being in the shower with her u didn’t want to look anywhere but her face, you wished to be respectful, but if you had you would of noticed the small stretch marks on her hips and breasts, the scene replayed in your mind until Larissa stirred awake.

“Hi.” She said in the deepest sleepy voice. “Hey.” You spoke in a low whisper. “How do u feel?” She asked. “A lot better than before.” You said. “That’s great, what’s the time do u know?” You turned your head to her nightstand and looked at the small clock. “6:17pm.” She hummed in acknowledgment. Larissa slowly removed her hand, releasing it was still there she blushed furiously, you turned back to look over your shoulder at her, Larissa’s face was bright red and her eyes wide when they make contact with yours, you sit up and move back to rest against the headboard before tossing back the blankets to stand, she looked at you quizzically. “I’ll be back in two seconds.” You said walking out into her office, headed towards her liquor cabinet that’s hidden in plain sight, you smile at the thought. Coming back to her room you held a bottle of red in one hand and rounded the bed to stand next to Larissa. “Come on, I think we could use this.” You said offering the bottle. She took your outstretched hand and waited as you went to the arm chair that’s reserving your things and plucked out the pack of cigarettes, you turned to walk towards her balcony, grabbing her hand dragging you with her, she managed to grasp a blanket on the way out.

Not bothering to use glasses just drinking straight out of the bottle you had both drank about 3/4 of it, Larissa sat right next to you and shared the blanket, draped around her and your shoulders. You took out your pack of cigarettes and lit one, you could see her in your peripheral vision eyeing you. You smirked a little and asked “yes?” She looked straight ahead away from you taking another sip of wine before saying “I didn’t know u smoked.” You looked at her directly “I don’t really, only when I’m stressed.” You said. She looked back at you and smiled. “Me to.”  her response was a shock. you took a drag and passed it to her. “Thanks.” She said, you watched as she inhaled and exhaled, taking the time to admire her more, something about how graceful she let the smoke escape her red stained lips was beautiful.

She took another drag before passing it back to you. “I need you to know how incredibly grateful I am for your help this morning, to be honest it’s never been that bad, I felt immobilised and there’s never been that much blood. I just didn’t know what to do.” You said handing eher the cigarette to finish it off. “It’s fine I believe you would do the same for me, even if I’m more stubborn.” She added. “I would. I’d do anything for you.” You said not shying away from the facts and looking her deep in her eyes to show your sincerity. “Well since we’re being honest I think I should express something.” She said, gripping hard at the bottle. “I’m listening.” You said cheekily. “Well… I don’t know if it’s just the result of the wine to have enough courage to tell you, but… for a while now, I’ve liked you, a lot. You are the sweetest most down to earth and understanding person I have ever met, not to mention how beautiful you are… I, I don’t want you to take it the wrong way but, being able to see you this morning up close and personal and see all of your beautiful marks and blemishes, made my heart feel full, because I didn’t feel alone. Forgive me if this sounds strange but I love that everyone of your stretch marks tells and scars tells a story, and that you’re not as thin as a pencil, I understand that u must have terrible insecurities like me but I only wish to ease them every single day for as long as it takes for you to see how beautiful you are. Because you are and u deserve to be treated the way you treat others including me.” She stopped for a moment stifling tears, she continued in a shaking voice “now I understand my feelings aren’t reciprocated but I believe it only fair to tell you.” A single tear rolling down her cheek and closing her eyes, waiting for rejection.

You on the other hand was in tears once again, you let out a groggy, wet chuckle, reaching out taking a hold of her cheeks in your palms. She looked down at you confused, although her face softened at the sight of your adorable grin and tear stained face. You put your forehead on hers closed you eyes and whispered, “finally….. after all this time…. I have found someone who wants… me? Of all people it was the one I always wanted.” You said laughing and crying at the same time. She pulled back from you with a small smile plastered on her face. “You, you really mean it?” She asked. “I do, I really do, you have no idea how long I have waited to be chosen Larissa, by anyone for that matter, never being first choice really takes a toll on the self esteem, and to know u want me in the same way I desire you, and not just as a friend, not just second choice, but as more, means everything to me. And as for the insecurities stuff… I have never let anyone see me naked willingly, to be honest I’m still socked that I did it. and thank you for saying those things about me, not one person in my life had said something like that about me.” At that moment you let your hands trail down and around her neck, unpinning her hair and letting it fall around her shoulders and spill down her back, you brought your hands around to her collarbones and caressed them gently, your hands went lower to her chest and onto her sternum laying your palm on top of it. “This part, right here, is where I feel you, in the centre of my being close to my heart. This bone protects your heart when I cannot.” You explained.

Larissa took ahold of your wrist holing her chest and guided it to her lips and kissed your knuckles, than put your hand on her face once again leaning into it, holding you there. Gazing into one another she spoke. “I adore you darling girl… I love you so much sweetheart.” She whispered as if it were a secret that not another soul eligible enough to hear. “I love you rissa, more than anything on this planet.” You lean in and wait for her to close the gap, her breath was faint on your lips as she pressed them to your own, it was slow passionate and absolutely full of love. When you both pull back, more tears were shed as you lay in each other’s embrace, curling up in the blanket more, stealing longing and loving looks of each other while staring at the stars.

#larissa weems #gwendoline christie #principle weems #wednesday #romance #larissa weems x y/n #larissa x reader #gwenchrist(ie) #wlw fanfic #larissa weems x reader

[meshlasolus]

The Rain Is Cold

Part 2 of the Obi and Little One Miniseries

Summary: it’s raining outside the temple, and the heating is out on your side of the apartment. You decide that curling up on the couch with your Master is you best bet at warmth.

Warnings: …a little yearning from Little One- fluff, a little angst (just a disclaimer, little one is about 16/17 by now)

The storm was cold, much colder than Coruscant usually would be this time of year. You only had a single thin blanket to keep wrapped around yourself as the rain poured down outside, making the lights in the distant city seem blurry through the lenses of your condensation covered window. It was thick, the cold was. It seemed like it was trying to penetrate your room and devour you whilst you tried to rest.

You normally welcomed this type of weather, feeling more calm and at peace through the force when the sky was gray and the breeze was full of moisture from the downpours. It was a lovely feeling most of the time, but for right now, you couldn’t focus on anything other than the fact you were cold, and the little blanket you curled up beneath was doing nothing to aid you.

You huffed loudly and dramatically once you’d given up on your plans to rest. If you were going to sleep at all on this night you were going to need more blankets, and if possible, two winter robe sets.

Tip-toeing out of the room, you didn’t want to wake anyone else up, but upon seeing the face of your Master, you relaxed a little. He felt your presence stirring about earlier, and it distracted him, but he needed to focus on his task. You coming out of your room made him believe that this border dispute would never be resolved, but he set down his holo-pad all the same, ready to help you with anything should you need it.

“I didn’t know you were still up,” you laughed lightly in a whisper, continuing on your trek to find what you were searching for, but the further into the apartment you went, you realized it was far warmer than your room. Perhaps your vents weren’t flowing properly, it would explain why you were so chilled in there.

“I could say the same about you.”

At this you scoffed quietly, nearly under your breath. “I’m not trying to be. I think the heat is out in my room, I’m freezing in there.”

You collected two blankets from the linen closet and journeyed to the couch instead of your room. You were already wide awake by now, and going back into the refrigerator known as your room would not well suit you until the storm was over, or someone fixed the heater.

“Do you want me to look at it for you? It might be an easy fix,” he suggested, but you shook your head, plopping down next to him and unfolding both blankets to cover yourself.

“It’s much warmer in here,” you knew he was busy, and taking time to fix your heating sector in the middle of the night would most likely take far more time than he thinks. “Besides, you look like you could use the company.”

He smiled, dropping his head down to face his lap, glancing over at his holo-pad which he’d laid aside when you walked in. Even though you didn’t acquire his attention at all times, he was keen to give it to you. Something along the lines of being the best Master he can be to his students, in hopes of them turning out as the best Jedi in the order.

“This dispute has gone on almost a month, I’m starting to think II’m unqualified to diminish it,” he was stressed, that much you could tell. He already had so little time to himself in the day, and now he was sacrificing his hard earned sleep to work on something that was somewhat out of his control. He couldn’t even help it, the assignment was far too much to handle on his own, but he wanted to show the council he was worthy of completing it. He was losing his confidence that it could even be resolved at all, and he would be reprimanded by the council on grounds of the unfinished mission.

You hated when he started getting this way, because he meant the worlds to you. He worked hard every day, breaking himself to try and prove he was a good Jedi. You already knew he was, given the training and companionship he’d always given to Anakin and yourself. Everything outside of that was even more amazing in your mind, because it showed how limitless he truly was. Having one padawan and maintaining a mission schedule was hard enough, but having two, and taking on assignments meant for five Jedi was incredibly impressive on all fronts. He was the best of the best, from the stories you’d heard, no Jedi compared to him, not even Master Yoda.

“I think you’re too hard on yourself. The things you’ve accomplished in this order are beyond what most will ever achieve, you should be proud of that, Master.”

You admired him far more than you should, and often times worried if what you were feeling was wrong. It was wrong, wasn’t it? To think of him in ways a student should never think of their teacher, much less a Padawan to their Master. It was obvious that the order did not condone nor approve of in any way that sort of relationship, and you wished sometimes you could make those feelings disappear from you, but it wasn’t that easy. You were drawn to your master, as you’d seen him in your dreams. He was a dream to you, in every way. If only he knew that.

He turned to look at you, and the sheer look of compassion on your face made him feel as if you truly understood the weight he carried. He wasn’t even under any scrutiny by the council like you constantly were, and yet you were always unequivocally yourself, smiling and following your path as you should always do. You knew the pressures of a superior that looked down on you, and you thrived despite it. He wanted to be more like you.

“Thank you, little one,” he sighed, “but there’s only two things in this galaxy I am truly proud of.”

You smiled, scooting closer to him and resting your head on his shoulder. “There’s only one of me, though.”

He laughed, rolling your eyes at the thought of even acknowledging Anakin. It was all in good fun, though, because he knew you loved that boy dearly, as did he. You shuffled around on the couch next to him to become more comfortable, and one of your bare feet barely nudged his knee. He flinched immediately, feeling as though a piece of Ice had just been brushed against him.

“Your feet are freezing,” he furrowed his brows, using the back of his hand to feel the side of your arm before pulling it back with a jolt as well. “How cold is it in your room?”

Clearly he wasn’t as concerned before as he was now, but you didn’t seem to think it had been a big deal, and he only realized it was when he felt how deathly cold your skin was. He leaned away from you only to shrug off his robe, and to wrap it tightly around you, even on top of the two blankets you were snuggled into. Such a small gesture, and it meant the world to you. He was always so kind and gentle, you adored him for it.

“I told you,” you giggled, the face he made in reaction was purely comical. “I think the heat is out in my room. I’ll probably sleep out here tonight.”

He wondered how you were even able to stay in that room for the period of time that you did, and huffed out a sigh and a shiver just thinking about it. He didn’t like the cold, it was, to put it simply, cold. Seeing you wrapped up in a ball next to him, laying your head on his shoulder made him happier to know you were warming up. If you’d gotten sick because of this, he’d feel horrible for not knowing the heat went out in your room. He only hoped it would be fixed by tomorrow, because the storm was predicted to worsen then.

He sat for a while, picking his holo-pad back up and beginning to resume his work while you quietly watched on his shoulder. It was only when he heard soft snores did he turn back to look at you, peacefully sleeping with your mouth open a little. He kissed the top of your head, then tried to maneuver so that he could stand from his seat without waking you. After realizing you were deeper in slumber than he originally thought, he scooped you from the couch, and took you into his room, The heat was working fine, so he figured he’d let you have it to yourself for the night. He set you down, making sure an abundance of sheets and blankets were tucked in around you, to ensure that you were going to be nice and warm once he had left.

You’d nestled down into his bed so easily, clutching the blankets to your chest and heaving deep and even breaths. He was satisfied with how peaceful and relaxed you were, and went out to the couch to finish his work before ultimately passing out on it from a long day f over working and pure exhaustion.

-

tags:

@cool-h-posts @honestlywtfisgoingon @fandomstanner24 @elvenrin

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan series #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan x padawan #ewan mcgregor #anakin skywalker x reader #hayden christensen #anakin skywalker

[crying-fantasies]

Where Is Your Soul?

Synopsis: Everyone can live, everyone can have a future, a brighter one, if you give up your own.

Warnings: Character's death, suicide thought, self-sacrifice, angst, dismembered body, blood, mention of sexual assault, if you don't like this don't read, it's just me searching for some pain.

Jonathan Joestar

- When he declined your offer to keep searching for Dio's possible corpse he didn't believe that it would end like this, he wanted to spent time with Erina after so long, he could have told you, he really should have done it.

"Maybe later" He was trying to get to see her soon, so he left you there, in the street near your home, you only needed to turn around the corner and get safely to your house, "go straight home, it's dangerous at night"

In another reality you did as Jonathan told you

But now you decided to go along your own idea and turned around, entering the dark streets

- He never thought that you would go alone.

- When he heard of the shooting he didn't connect the dots right away, he thought that you would be still sleeping, your hair a mess and refusing to wake up earlier.

- Then, out of nowhere his father was calling for him, he was going downstairs when he noticed his master, Mister Zeppeli, with a gloomy expression that his father was starting to show too.

- His master appeared with something on his hands, when Jonathan saw it he didn't believed.

- He wished that it was a joke of yours, a weird one, a terrible one, a sick one.

"The body was found next to ashes and this..."

- He was holding your revolver, the one that your father gifted you so many years ago, one that your family didn't want back because of such a thing, such a tragedy, happening.

- It had blood over it, and anyone would know that it was yours.

- Jonathan didn't believed such a thing.

- George tried to stop his son but Jonathan was stronger, he was faster, he got to the place of the events in such a short amount of time.

Why wasn't I fast enough when you need him?

- When he arrived he found Speedwagon there, looking perplexed at the officers and a body in the floor, the blanket over it to spare the gruesome scene from the public didn't cover all the blood that was painting the floor or the walls.

"They really did it" he was trembling, crying, in his hand was your coat, the one that you used to carry all your guns around, it was empty, every gun and bullet on the floor, with blood, "They are both death, Dio is death and..."

- Speedwagon got wind of what was happening, but it was already late, when he got there he found you dragging your body on the floor, so much blood on your way, some kind of bloody pulp on your hands that then he realized was the remains of Dio.

- You left them fall in the sunrise light of the new day, smiling at him while it was turned to ashes that got carried away by the wind.

"Hey, Rob, I did it..." Your body on the floor, your hand full of ashes like some other parts of your body before you finally collapsed, he wanted to call for help but the police areived and at first they put the blame of such a crime on him.

- They just concluded that you committed suicide.

- Even if Jonathan asked Robert would never tell him that you used yourself to trap Dio in your embrace and started shooting, the bullets got to him but also your body, it weakened him and you could wait till the sunrise to finally kill him with the sun, the horrible escene would be forever on his mind.

- People would talk about you, about how your soul would haunt forever that street, how even in the future people would find the many bullets that you used in the walls near.

- Jonathan just thought, with tears on his eyes and your revolver in his hands, how reckless you were, just like always, even when he believed that Dio was already death you thought otherwise, not believing that everything ended, and you were right, even so, why didn't you ask him for help when you found Dio, why did you just go there all alone and without calling him for help, but what if you did, what if Dio caught you and you could only fight trying to survive? If you called for help but he was so far away to even know that you needed him there?

- Why did you choose to go there? All alone, almost ready to die for something that was supposed to be his responsibility.

- When his son is born, Jonathan would be overprotective, almost forbidding him to be near the place where the "Crazy ghost" would be roaming, that damned street where his nightmares would take place from time to time, punishing George when he, after a dare, put a foot in that place.

"Don't you dare to return there!" in all the years that he was a father, Jonathan have never shouted at his son.

- He used so much of his mental strength to even go after his son at that place.

"Dad, why do you have a revolver?" His son would ask but Jonathan would never answer, just taking the gun in it's glass box out of his son's reach.

"I'm..." He finally decided to tell his son when he was 15 years old and planning to enlist, the terror of having his son near weapons was real, and for a moment he would be terrified about the possibility that George would die like you, like a soldier, dying for others, "I'm just taking care of it for a dear friend"

- Years go and never return, now, after so long, he can be near that street again, it's early in the morning and with the help of his wife can finally put a feet there, say a prayer and left flowers for you, finally accepting that you died that day, that he can let go of your ghost.

- For a moment he believed that he saw you with the first sunrise's lights, smiling with mischief at him, snorting in disbelief and laugh at his tear stained face like the good ol' times.

- He hopes that if there is an afterlife then he can meet you again.

You die, all your descendants never existed, you defeated the great danger, everyone else survived

Are you happy with your choice?

Joseph Joestar

- Joseph would be the instigator of many problems but you were the one that would get the two out of trouble, he believed that it was a good dynamic, but then he would regret such beliefs.

"Why can't we just talk about it with them?" You asked that when everything started, like the peace lover that you were, Joseph only said that you didn't understood while giving you a hug, his hand on your hair and messing with it.

"Don't worry your little head" he would say while while smiling, Joseph had his usual mischievous grin, "everything is going to be fine, I will get that ring and we will live till we are old people"

- He knew of your worries and maybe he was a bit bitter about the fact that you liked Caesar, and that maybe you already did the do, it irks him to even think about it.

In another reality you would listen to Joseph and not worry, they were strong

But now you decided to use your imaginary friend, you had an idea, you could at least help a bit

- There is no one on your room when Joseph goes to say good night to you, maybe spend some quality time together after so long, and also to be sure that Caesar wasn't in your room again.

- He believed that maybe you got to eat something or to walk around the island, but then he thought that you may be with Caesar, he wants to puke at the idea and decided to let you be.

- The next morning you weren't in your room, with Caesar or even in the island.

- Joseph was worried, but he believed that you would be doing some tourism around bay because the boat wasn't in the shore.

- Lisa Lisa, Loggins and Messina thought otherwise because the boat was in reality there, bits of steel near it, also because the Red stone of Aja that she had was in reality a perfect copy made of steel.

- Who would do such a thing and keeping her in the shadows about if not you? The one with a strange ability to move things around without even touching them and to create different things out of steel, perfect copies of metal.

"You two will keep training while I'm away" Lisa Lisa didn't gave much explanation and just left.

- She was the one that found you, or at least what was left of you, your body impaled by giant metal bars.

- At first she believed that they got thrown to you, resulting in your death, but she then notices that those things got out of the soil around you, she notices the traces of a fight around but only your body is there, she finds what appears to be the sacred stone but it's broken and pieces of red steel and glass like pieces are everywhere, next to the pieces is the ring that Joseph needs.

"I'm not sure what was the idea but I found the real one secluded underground with many layers of steel around it" Lisa Lisa didn't have a soft touch, she knew that, and maybe she could have been a little more worried about the shattered expression in the faces of her son, her student and Suzi.

- Joseph just tried to figure out what happened with you while trying his hardest to be stronger after drinking the content inside the ring, he cried when he noticed little drops of dry blood on it but he stopped himself soon when the mask on his face didn't let him breath or cry like he wanted.

- When the time comes and they are ready to fight they only find Wammu, Esidisi and Kars, they didn't expected to see them there.

"We already accepted your victory, why are you even here?"

- Turns out that the day that you disappeared you took the real Red stone of Aja.

- For what the pillar men answer to their questions they now know that the stone that you left underground was a perfect copy, a second one, just to take the real one to the pillar men and destroy it in front of them.

- You were little, you were unarmed, so they didn't expected you to form some kind of hammer out of nothing, "this is the real one, the cause of so much problems"

- All pillar men jumped to stop you when you used steel to destroy the stone, summoning steel bars around you to stop them because you couldn't destroy it so easily, they got near you and that made you attack even more close to you, ending in your death and the stone being destroyed by the same bar of steel.

"That one" Wammu started to talk, "Was indeed a great warrior, so I let them the death ring"

- Caesar wanted to keep fighting, to avenge his father's death and your sacrifice with a broken heart and tears in his eyes.

- Joseph didn't know what to do.

"Don't worry your little head, I will take care of it!"

- And like he said, he would take care of it, accepting the plan that you almost did with the pillar men, a way of peace, it was everything but easy yet his achievement finally brought what you wanted.

- He needed to explain what happened to everyone back home, when he finally arrived to his grandmother's house he was welcomed in a warm home and her worried expression, he just wanted to get into his room but in his way he collided with a picture of the two of you hanging on the corridor.

- It was just too much for him.

- Erina had to help her grandson, hugging him back together when she found him crying in front of the picture, finally shattering his shield of normalcy and letting go all his pain even when he kept denying his tears, even when he tells his grandma that he will be okay soon and tries to believe it himself.

- She knows that he is lying, he also knows it, because he has lost someone that he held dear to him, someone that was with him since the very beginning, someone that he loved and he just realized it.

- He put a candle for you near the picture and a steel brooch with the form of your favorite flower next to it, in that way, a flower that would never wither.

You die, all your descendants never existed, the war between the Pillar men and the Hamon masters was over, everyone else survived

Are you happy with your choice?

Jotaro Kujo

- Love can make people do stupid things, that is something that Jotaro believed, but in a different way, for him love would make you a blind idiot.

- He saw it with the girls that chase him, it's not love, it's some kind of infatuation, but they want that belief that they like him, that they love him.

- His grandfather told you that you must go with the others after they returned.

In another reality you would listen, you would wait while the others go ahead.

But now you decided to go alone, you knew Hamon, just a little, but it will help you.

- No one noticed when or where did you go, Iggy was also nowhere to be found, but they had an idea faster than later after hearing a fight inside, a explosion that shattered many windows and the ominous roar of two creatures.

- You were still alive, almost in the verge of death, destruction around you after the attack of Vanilla Ice with Cream, you used Overdrive to finish him but it took your arm after touching it.

"Will you keep me company to the end?" Iggy lost a little piece of his ear but after looking at him you found relief that no further damage was done.

- Talking to the little dog wasn't common, maybe you were starting to lose your mind due to blood lost, even when you already closed it with Hamon.

- You continued till the moment that you noticed an ominous shadow behind you, Iggy barked but it was late, an unknown hand grabbed you from your neck and started to put pressure, you couldn't breathe, you couldn't use Hamon, you couldn't use your Stand.

- You recognized the man, that demon, that nightmare, with your last energy you tried to land a hit in vain, a kick that was blocked, a punch from your Stand was just too weak to inflict damage, The Fool was sent flying by a mere movement of his hand, then you give the command.

- Your Stand took Iggy and ran away, in the exact moment that Dio ripped apart your shirt and opened his mouth before finally biting you, but you smiled, pain cursing your whole body and a silent scream, puting your last breath to use.

- When the rest noticed your withered Stand approaching with an injured Iggy in their last arm they just needed to follow the pieces that kept falling from it, leaving a path of black pieces.

- The first one to found your body was Joseph, the one that raised you like one of his own flesh and blood, the one that teached you the ways of Hamon and the one that got you in all that mess.

- The rest just saw the old man trying to cover your exposed body with his own, sobbing and saying that it couldn't be, your ripped shirt and your face almost a distanced memory when now it had such a malicious wound in it that was still bleeding next to the one on your neck.

- Avdol with Iggy in his arms noticed that your Stand was fading, Polnareff remembered the attack to his sister and almost puked, Kakyoin would remember the day that Dio attacked him and almost had a panic attack, Jotaro was at a lost of words after seeing with his own eyes how your Stand just evaporated with a final and soft growl.

- You used your Stand running away to use ripple in your own body, affecting Dio in the way and making him lose part of his mouth and hand.

- You cleared the path and you gifted then a chance, it wasn't easy, at the end of all everyone was still fatally injured, one worst than the other, but they would survive.

- Joseph was the one to tell your family what happened, drifting apart the two families.

- Jotaro would return home, to his smiling mother, she was now safe and sound, and he tried to go with it, go on with his life even if it hurt.

- Every now and then he hears, in the middle of the night, the last growl of your Stand, one of pain, when he sleeps.

You die, your descendants never existed, Dio is finally death, all your friends return home and enjoy what life can offer.

Are you happy with your choice?

Josuke Higashikata

"(One) more time" you would say when he needed some extra energy in the middle of a fight.

- You did it often, even when they just needed the motivation to give their all in an exam, you would say the words, when they were in trouble and needed that shot of adrenaline you would be there to give some.

- Without the ability to cure you could at least improve power for a limited amount of time

"It's just a bit of my energy" you would say, giving little worry to it, "I only feel dizzy when I over use it"

- Everyone would laugh at your own description of your Stand, it could boost the homeostasis, improve one's health and pain resistance for a short or long period of time.

- You never overused it, so you never knew what would happen when you did it.

- Josuke was bleeding, everyone was like that, and you just found them with Shigechi in the middle of the street, your friend shouted in horror after he recognized the man in front of you, the man that tried to kill him.

In another reality you would take Shigechi with you and run away, make the killer follow you and give the others time to recuperate.

But now you decided to put your hand on his shoulder.

"We are going to fight..." You only whispered but now he felt stronger, Harvest was now even faster and numerous.

- While Shigechi was fighting you kept using your Stand on every one, once, twice and again, then to one nearest, once, twice and again.

- Then you were reached by a bomb.

- When Josuke opened his eyes he saw something on his hand, you were near him, your fingers touching his, and you started to talk in a low voice.

"One more..." He almost didn't heard you, "One more!" Now he could, he understood what you were doing, "ONE MORE TIME!"

- Josuke could feel his body awakening, his mind refreshing in an instant, fast enough to catch your body and heal your wounds, he left you there in order to finally end the biggest danger.

- When the ambulance arrived he felt remorse and hate, but he was just too exhausted to think anymore, then he noticed that Jotaro was next to you and he wanted to ask you why you were still on the floor, was it that using your Stand tired you to that point? Crazy Diamond should have done the work just fine and you should be on your own feet by now.

"You fool..." He heard Jotaro say, and when he was near enough he noticed that you looked fine, you were supposed to be fine, he healed all your wounds.

- So what was the reason that your heart stopped working?

"Hey, this... This isn't funny"

- He didn't know what to say.

- The ambulance ended up picking your body too even when Josuke tried to stop it, Jotaro was the one to put him back on his right mind with a punch.

- He just couldn't grasp the idea that you died so easily, even worse, that you died seconds before he healed your body, he didn't know that you were gone when he touched you, he didn't notice, he just thought that you were exhausted.

- You body, it was warm at that moment, there was blood at your side due to the bomb that got to you, that same blood, he didn't noticed it on his hand, he didn't noticed when it dried up, leaving the sensation that he almost couldn't move it, he tried to clean it at the spot with tears on his eyes and the dry blood fell on the street.

- He realized one day that where you died a little plant started to grown in the middle of the street, not even a year later it was a giant rainbow like wisteria tree, one that emitted melodies with the wind and every person that hugged it could feel energized again, the street is now a park for tourism.

- All the friends that you did in Morioh still go there to reunite.

You die, your descendants never existed, Yoshikage Kira is death, all your friends can live a peaceful life, the "Rainbow tree" is a new point landmark in Morioh.

Are you happy with your choice?

Giorno Giovanna

- Your destiny was already set in stone.

- Meeting Giorno was only a way to make it come to you faster.

- You weren't exactly, and legally speaking, related to all the group so you were the first choice when there was the necessity to bought things and to interact with the public in general.

- Now that Trish was with you all someone needed to buy more supplies.

In another reality you would deny this, preferring to stay with the others while Narancia did the shopping.

But now you take the shopping list and go, alone, trough a different direction and cross paths with the last person that you wanted.

- The explosion that results of your sonic attack is something that everyone is familiar with to that point, they recognize it quickly.

- They are near to the point where they will let Trish with her father, but a second and third explosions later they decide to at least see what is happening, who is attacking you and where exactly are you.

- Using Aerosmith was the first choice.

- Because the Stand returned with the red book that you always had in hands, Bruno is the first to open it, knowing how it works, and what he sees makes some take Trish to safety while the others go to help you.

- Giorno gets the book and also read it.

"You cross paths with DopiolovaiD, Trish's father, who is in his way to kill her and the group that comes with her"

"He realized your presence, your fear, he attack- he has you in a corner, something happened, the time isn't right"

- It was like a horror story, the pages in the book continue to move, to flip, now full of the same words.

"It hurts, it hurts you so much, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts" the same word keeps repeating, page after page of the same words.

"You are bleeding, it hurts- IT HURTS"

- Giorno is supposed to be in the group that protects Trish, but is her who tells him to go.

- When Giorno arrived it was already too late, two bodies on the floor, one is yours and the other is the one of a young man that he can't recognize, both bodies with blood on their ears, the book that he has on his hand starting to turn into ashes.

"If I can ask..." Days before you were eating ice cream together, he had extra cash because he stole a wallet, but he wasn't going to tell you that, you had some kind of heroic mind, "why the Mafia?"

"Why not?" He asked, to you and to himself, he remembers the man that helped him in his worst days and the changes that he wants to happen.

"I mean, what do you wanna do? How can the Mafia keep working without selling drugs or collecting protection money?" Your words held some truth, maybe the whole deal, and he didn't know how to answer you at that moment.

- Even years later he was struggling.

- All the group had to left both bodies on that place to avoid the police, but when Giorno got the power he ordered your body to be dragged back to Italy even when your family had already buried you.

- His people never touched or destroyed your first resting place, so your family would never notice.

- Giorno would use GE to keep flowers around your new resting place, he would visit you often and talk to you about how everything was going.

"I can create a cure for the addicted, I can protect everyone by just giving the order, I don't need their money, we can keep killing and obtain money only if the person is shit and the pay is good" his hand holds a bundle of rocks and these transforms into gold, then all the gold just rumble and turns to ashes, "but I can't take someone dear to me back from the death"

You die, your descendants never existed, Diavolo is death, all your group can achieve their dreams.

Are you happy with your choice?

#Spotify #reader insert #x reader #angst #joestar family #jojo x reader #josuke x reader #jotaro kujo #jjba pt 1 #jjba pt 4 #jjba pt 5 #jjba pt 3 #jjba au #jotaro x reader #joseph x reader #jonathan joestar #joseph joestar #jonathan x reader #giorno x reader #giorno giovanna

[kringletheelf04]

Curtis can’t mind his own business

(Chapter 15 of two souls entwined in the North Pole)

Master list

Bernard wakes up the next morning, dressed in only a pair of flannel sleep pants, soulmate snuggled tightly against his side. Things couldn't be better. Sighing contently, he plants a kiss in your hair. He wishes he could stay there forever, but there's work to be done. Gently untangling himself from you, he steps out from under the covers. Picking up his clothes from the ground, he slips them back on. Securing his beret back in place, he looks in the bathroom mirror. Scratches cover his back and a dark hickey is on the base of his neck. Sighing, he slings his bag over his head and slips on his shoes. Giving one last look to you, he smiles and unlocks the door, stepping outside and closing the door behind him.

"What are you doing in Mx. (Y/n)'s room?"

Whipping around, he sighs after seeing it is only Curtis.

"None of your business." Bernard huffs.

"As keeper of the handbook, it is my business to keep the spirit of Christmas in good health. And that includes their soulmate." Curtis berates Bernard.

"Well, as head elf, I'm overruling that decision." Bernard places his hands on his hips, still sore from the previous night.

"Well, as you should know, the legendary figures are here to welcome Santa and the spirit of Christmas. And that means that Mx. (Y/n) needs to be woken up." Curtis says, opening the door before bernard can stop him.

Curtis's eyes widen as he gazes around the room. Clothes thrown about and a bare leg hanging out of your bed.

"Oh my—" Curtis starts only to be cut off by Bernard's hand covering his mouth.

"I told you that it was none of your business." Bernard almost growls.

You turn over in the bed and reach to where bernard previously was. Feeling that he's no longer there, you open your eyes and scan the room for your lover.

"Oh, fuck!" You exclaim, seeing Curtis standing there, his mouth agape, and gather up the blanket to cover you.

"You— you— Santa's not gonna like this!" Curtis points to them and rushes out the door.

"What the fuck, Bernard!" You scramble to grab underwear and a shirt.

"I didn't mean-" Bernard stutters out.

"Well that's great. Now he's gonna tell my dad." You sigh.

"I'm going to the bathroom. I'll be out in a minute." You stumble up.

"Let me help you!" Bernard rushes to your side, hooking his arm around you.

Walking to the bathroom and sitting down, you quickly pee. Going to wash your hands, you look in the mirror. Large hickeys litter your neck and shoulder. Blooms of purple and blue surround your nipples.

"Look what you've done." You sigh.

"You did a number on me as well. You weren't complaining last night." Bernard crosses his arms.

"Guess I'm wearing a turtle neck for a while. At least I'm not seeing anyone for a while." You sigh in relief.

"Well, actually, the legendary figures are here to meet you and your dad." Bernard rushes out.

"That's just great. When is that?" You ask.

"Actually, now. They're waiting in your dads room." Bernard bites his cheek.

"Now!? Why didn't you lead with that?!" You say, rushing out of the bathroom and throwing on clean clothes.

"I'm fucked!" You exclaim, searching for a scarf.

"Well, since you asked so nicely," Bernard snakes an arm around your waist and peppers your face with soft kisses.

"I'm late, I can't just not show up." You kiss him back.

"Yeah, I guess your right. And as head elf, I'm supposed to be their as well to make sure everything goes smoothly." Bernard pries himself off of you.

"Well, Mr. head elf, lead the way." You giggle, gesturing to the door.

"As you wish, Mx. spirit of Christmas." He jokes back, taking your hand and leading you down the hallway.

Making your way to your dads room, you slip your hand into his and rest your head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know Curtis was going to come into your room." Bernard whispers softly.

"It's okay. I mean we are soulmates. What did he think was gonna happen." You giggle.

Butterflies swarm his stomach. Even though you were just so intimate last night, he can't help but feel special to see you so vulnerable.

Smiling up at him, you place a kiss at the corner of his mouth.

"I love you." He smiles down at you.

"And I love you."

Getting to your dads room you rap your knuckles against the double door. Shifting can be heard behind the door and you untangle yourself from bernard.

Opening the door your dad grins widely at the both of you.

"Finally up, sleepyhead?" He ruffles your hair.

"Yeah, yeah, old man. Hardy har." You roll your eyes.

"And you," your dad points to Bernard, laughing. "I expected you much earlier. I guess even the head elf can be tardy."

"It won't happen again, sir." Bernard blushes.

"Let's get this meeting started." Your dad ushers you both into the room.

"Let's get this meeting started." Your dad ushers you both into the room.

#fanfiction #bernard the arch elf #bernard the elf #bernard the head elf #the santa clause #x reader #fanfic #the santa clause two #bernard the elf x reader #reader insert #xreader #bernard #david krumholtz #character x reader #christmas lights #elves #my fanfiction #self indulgence babey #self indulgence time #self insert #the santa clause x reader #bernard x reader #bernard the elf fanfic #bernard the head elf x reader #Bernard the arch elf x reader

[jasontoddiefor]

A gift for @thenegoteator :D

It took a Temple to raise a child, and Mace Windu was very much aware of this. However, it did not explain what Ahsoka Tano was doing at his door in the middle of the night. Ahsoka had deep bags under her eyes, which wasn’t too much of a surprise considering the current living arrangements of her lineage. While little Luke and Leia were relatively well-behaved newborns, they were still only a few weeks old. If their human caretakers didn’t wake up at every single little whimper, then the togruta with the superior hearing certainly would.

“Do you want to come inside?” Mace asked, not letting his confusion show. He was used to people coming to his door at the oddest hours.

“If—if I can?” Ahsoka replied as if only now becoming aware of her actions. In this, she reminded Mace of her Grandmaster and the many nights Mace had found Obi-Wan coming to his doorstep during the first months of Anakin’s stay at the Temple.

“My door is always open, Padawan,” Mace said – and watched her wince.

Ah.

So there was the problem.

“Caleb is currently sleeping in my bed as Depa is away,” Mace explained. “So please keep your voice down. I don’t want to wake him unnecessarily.”

The boy had already had a hellish enough month behind him, he needed all the rest he could get. Even though the war was officially over, enough planets refused to surrender, drawing out the battles until they had nothing but children left to sacrifice. It weighed on Mace’s shoulders, making him wonder whether he wasn’t too old to carry such burdens still.

Ahsoka nodded and followed Mace inside. He couldn’t recall whether Ahsoka had been in his room before, but from the way she eagerly looked around his quarters, taking in the sight of old instruments, books, and holos, he guessed she hadn’t. Well, at one point in their life, every Jedi had set a foot inside Mace’s quarters, so this was bound to happen sooner or later.

“Do you want a cup of tea?”

Ahsoka tore herself away from the sight and looked at him with surprise. “I—yes? That would be nice.”

“Then I will make a cup. Do you have any preferences? I believe I even have Obi-Wan’s favorite blend here.”

Mace had no idea whether he had bought it or if Obi-Wan had just left it here from himself when he came over. Knowing the other man, it was likely that the latter was the case. For a man claiming to be so very polite, Obi-Wan could be a right brat.

Mace’s kitchen was small, with only a few cabinets and one shelf, two cooking tiles, and an oven. He wasn’t much of a cook himself and preferred to eat in the cafeteria with everyone, frequently taste-tasting what the Initiates had prepared. He selected two uneven cups Depa had made for him when she’d been young from the shelf. Why she had decided to pick up pottery of all hobbies was beside him, but he supposed that she found the motion soothing. Devan did enjoy parkouring through the lower levels and Echuu was quite content playing the guitar to calm himself.

Perhaps Mace should focus less on why all three of his Padawans had decided they wouldn’t follow him into theatre so they could continue to make fun of him. Setting the water to boil, Mace searched through his cabinets until he found Obi-Wan’s favorite blend. The fruity tea was far from the blend he preferred, but Mace prided himself on being a good host. While he waited for the tea to finish steeping, Mace enjoyed the quiet of the night. For all that there were few sounds as dear to him as that of people walking, or in the case of some younglings and few selected Knights, running, down their large hallways, Mace could appreciate the quiet when the world came to rest.

With two finished cups in hand, he returned to the living room, where he found Ahsoka curled up on the sofa, no longer studying his quarters for any hidden secrets.

“Thank you,” she said when she accepted the cup from him. She held it in her hands as if to warm them, letting the steam hit her face. She breathed in once, twice, finding her rhythm again. Mace waited until she’d calmed enough to speak up.

“What brings you to my door, Padawan Tano?”

Ahsoka flinched and appeared to make herself even smaller as if attempting to vanish. When it became apparent that it didn’t work, that silence hadn’t been what she had sought him out for, she let out a sigh. “You keep calling that.”

“Calling you what?” Mace asked, his brow raised, playing oblivious.

“… Padawan.”

“Are you not? I was under the impression that you had returned to the Temple.”

“I did, but I still left,” Ahsoka replied. “I left and I was convinced that I had to leave and that it was good that I did. I still think I had to leave the Temple behind.”

“Then why are you torn?”

Ahsoka’s hold on her cup tightened and so, perhaps in wise anticipation, she set it on the table and buried her hands in her robes instead, hiding their twitching from view. Mace could trace all her mannerisms to her teachers and couldn’t imagine what it must be like to purposefully rip all those pieces from yourself when they had become so ingrained in your very being. Even Dooku, who’d fallen so far from their beliefs, had been unable to fully rid himself of Yoda’s lessons. Maybe it was for the best. Hope had become a scarce commodity during the war, yet Mace considered the possibility that in a decade, they wouldn’t be imprisoning a Sith anymore.

“But am I still a Padawan? A member of this Order?” Ahsoka asked. Her voice was barely above a whisper, and she shook like the leaves on the trees in the courtyard.

“Has your Master told you anything different?”

Ahsoka paused. “…. No.”

Seeing that realization was settling within her, Mace nodded. “Then you should not doubt him. You are a Jedi, Ahsoka Tano, and you will remain one as long as you live by our tenets.”

That teased a startled laugh from her. “Compassion for all except people who cheat at push-n-pull?”

As if transported back ten years, hearing Anakin say the same, Mace snorted. “The similarities between you and your Master astonish me every time. Yes, Padawan Tano, compassion for all.”

This seemed to calm the youth as she reached for her cup again and emptied it slowly. “It’s good.”

Mace smiled into his own cup. “I’d be insulted if it wasn’t. Obi-Wan forced me to memorize all the steps for making it.”

The then young Knight had been frazzled, and Mace honestly couldn’t tell what it had been about and had forced Mace to learn how to make this tea until he’d more or less collapsed on Mace’s sofa, completely knocked out until morning when Anakin had picked him up.

“He does do that,” Ahsoka agreed. “I think this is the only thing anyone can make reliably now.”

“Sleep-deprived much?” Mace inquired.

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. “Like you wouldn’t believe. I love Luke and Leia dearly, but they are demanding and need a lot of attention.”

That was honestly kinder than Mace would have described newborns at her age.

“There is a reason why we usually don’t have children this young in the Temple,” Mace said. “They are very handful. Do you get enlisted to help very often?”

Ahsoka shook her head. “No, Obi-Wan, Skyguy, and Padmé got it covered, and I’m mostly just helping out somewhere else.”

She trailed off a little. This, perhaps, was another issue, but one that could be equally easily dealt with.

“Thank you then for going where you are needed,” Mace told her.

Ahsoka blinked. “Huh?”

“You will grow into a specific role someday, Ahsoka, and that needs time. Do not feel as if you need to earn back your place in the Temple. You don’t need to earn yourself a home you have always had. For now, trust me when I say that everyone you’ve helped is glad that you were there. It is an admirable quality to have a sense of where you are needed. Do not see it as being the odd one out.”

This was the hardest lesson to teach and learn, the fact that there was a path out there for you, but that it took time to see where it would lead. Too many of their Padawans now felt utterly lost without the structure the war had provided them with.

“Oh. I guess if you say so.”

“Yes, I do say so,” Mace agreed. Then, eyeing Ahsoka’s empty cup, he added on, “do you want another?”

“No.” Ahsoka yawned. “I think I might best head back.”

“You can also sleep here if you want, and don’t mind Caleb hogging the blanket. I won’t go to bed tonight anyway.”

Ahsoka squinted at him as if attempting to discern whether he was lying. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Really—”

“Ahsoka, go to bed.”

Clearly feeling better already, she saluted and, after Mace showed her his bedroom, made herself comfortable in it. She took off her shoes and tossed her robe over a chair before climbing into the bed. Ahsoka had barely laid down when Caleb already turned around to curl around her, clinging like a little monkey. After a moment’s apprehension, she relaxed and was fast asleep. Stealing one last glance at the two Padawan, Mace returned to his living room, looking through the incoming reports.

Hectic as the aftermath of the war was, as much effort as caring for their children was, Mace wouldn’t trade it for a single thing in the world.

#star wars #mace windu #ahsoka tano #jedi #light fix it verse #fanfic

[tarydarrington]

"Alright, everyone," Veth says with authority, and everyone else quiets down. "Tomorrow is the big day."

Caleb sighs and ducks behind his drink. There is a speech coming. This is exactly the sort of ceremony he had hoped to avoid by having this get-together at his home rather than the bar Veth had suggested. It's only five of them, tonight; Beauregard and Yasha are always in town, and Veth had insisted on coming. And Essek, of course. He's not sure when the elf's presence at his side became an of course, but in a careful way, he likes it.

“As the person in this world who cares the most about Caleb--”

Essek silently quirks an eyebrow at that, and it doesn’t get past Veth.

“Alright, come on, just because you got him into bed and I didn’t doesn’t mean--”

Caleb clears his throat loudly, and Veth’s smile snaps back into place.

“As Caleb’s oldest, dearest, truest friend,” she says, and Essek manages to look dignified even while rolling his eyes, “it is my humble duty to tell you all how amazing he is on this momentous occasion.”

“You know, I am starting a new job, not getting married,” Caleb murmurs in her direction.

“And we’re all very proud of you!” Veth replies.

Caleb takes a long drink as the others chime in with agreement. Yasha shoots him a sympathetic look, and he returns a tight smile.

“Come on, man,” Beau says from where she leans against the table, “aren’t you excited, at all?”

He takes a long breath. Excited is a word for it. Ready to vomit at a moment’s notice is perhaps more accurate. The Soltryce Academy is tricky. He’s been back there a few times in recent weeks, for interviews and preparation, and each time, it’s felt like walking through a dream of a place the mind could not quite capture properly.

For whatever purpose, Trent has always wanted Caleb - Bren - to follow in his footsteps. Those footsteps feel a touch too literal in those hallways.

“Caleb?” Beau’s voice brings him out of his thoughts. “You still with us?”

He shakes his head. "Ja. Entschuldigung. There is a lot to think about."

Veth lowers her glass, frowning. "Nobody threatened you, did they? Because I'll have words with them."

"No, nothing like that." Not lately, anyway. He sets his own drink down on the table. "Just a bit worried, perhaps."

"Worried about what?" Beau asks flatly.

Caleb lets out a long breath, looking down at the floor. Where to begin? He’s worried that everything will go wrong. Worried that he’ll turn up with his clothes on backwards, or spill coffee down the front of his shirt, or trip over his words before the lesson even starts. Worried, most of all, about what comes after.

“I hope that I will not…” He searches for the right words. “I hope that I will be able to serve my students well enough,” he settles on. “The examples I have had were, ah….” Trent Ikithon is not one he wishes to emulate.

Essek frowns. “Carve your own path,” he says. “Someone as brilliant as you are needs no one to emulate.”

“Ja, well, that is fine for throwing together a spell or two, but I imagine the students will need a little more structure.” These are young minds. Any mistakes he makes will stick with them. He, of all people, knows just how much.

“Maybe you could ask them what they want from you,” Yasha pipes up. “You know, make sure you’re doing alright.”

Caleb lets out a long sigh. “Ja, maybe. That is a good idea.” Of course, it also requires that the students in question trust him enough to give him a straight answer.

They sit in relative silence for a moment, working away at their drinks. He hopes Veth doesn’t resent him for stepping on the atmosphere.

“Seriously, man, you’re gonna be great.” Beau knocks back the rest of her drink. “You’re already the best professor I’ve ever known.”

“I do not think the owl counts as a point of comparison,” Caleb deadpans. “Regardless, I will settle for not making a fool of myself for a first impression. That will be difficult enough.”

Beau shrugs, and reaches over to refill her glass. There’s a devious look in her eye that makes him nervous. "So why don't you practice?" she asks.

Caleb looks at her warily. "Practice?"

"Yeah, man." She gestures at the others. "Here's your class. Teach us something."

Before he can object, she’s already begun to pull an armchair toward the coffee table in the center of the room. Soon enough, three more seats have joined it, all on the same side. She throws her arms wide with a challenging grin.

“First day,” she says. “Don’t be late.” With that, she flops down onto the rightmost chair.

Transfixed in bemusement, Caleb watches as Yasha and Veth rush to occupy the next two seats in the makeshift classroom. The Expositor commands a room, it seems.

“Are you comfortable with this?” Essek murmurs as he brushes past as well. “I am willing to be the, ah... wet blanket, if need be.”

Caleb sighs, briefly twining their fingers together and squeezing once before letting him go. “Not comfortable, no, but it’s not a bad idea.”

Someone wolf whistles from the peanut gallery, and Caleb turns a fond glare on them all. All three of them are, of course, the picture of innocence. He shakes his head as Essek settles down primly in the last remaining chair. It’s not exactly the picture of an academic setting, with their glasses of half-finished booze still on the table in front of them and the lot of them draped over armchairs and ottomans.

“Alright,” says Beau, who has not even bothered to put her drink down. She makes a trilling sound that he thinks is probably meant to emulate a school bell. “Hit us.”

"We will be brutally honest," Veth promises. "Which means we will tell you honestly how perfect you are."

"Or if there's anything you could do better," Yasha adds.

Caleb stares back at them. It’s nothing he hasn’t gone over in his own head a hundred times. Even once or twice, to a captive audience of cats. It’s a short class. It will be over before he knows it.

The others look up at him expectantly. Watching him. Waiting. Caleb clears his throat.

"I, ah... feel a bit silly,” he admits.

Without a word, Essek waves a hand, and the familiar faces before him shift to those of strangers.

It’s almost embarrassing how much it helps. Caleb takes a deep breath and lets it out, running through the lesson plan in his head.

"Guten Morgen, class, I am, ah… Professor Widogast." It's the first time he's said that particular pair of words out loud.

"Whoo!" the student who is not Veth shouts.

"Yeah!" the student who is not Beau chimes in.

Caleb gives them a look and straightens his coat. "This is Introductory Transmutation, in room 142, so if you are all in the correct place--"

"Professor?" The student who is not Yasha raises her hand.

"Ah, ja, Miss…"

"Lionett."

Not-Beau slaps a hand over her own mouth and mutters, “Holy shit,” into it.

“Was that too much?” not-Yasha whispers.

“Babe, it was so hot,” not-Beau hisses back.

Caleb clears his throat. "Miss Lionett, do you have a question?"

Not-Yasha seems to suddenly remember her role, and she folds her hands in her lap. "No," she says, "I have to use the bathroom."

Caleb pinches the bridge of his nose as not-Beau bites back a giggle. “Ja, okay, go.”

“Don’t let her go!” not-Veth interjects. “She knew it was almost time for class; she should have gone earlier.”

“Dude, if she has to pee then she has to pee,” not-Beau protests.

Pointedly, not-Essek raises his hand.

Caleb lets himself sigh with relief. “Ja, Master…?”

“Gross, Professor, we don’t need to know about your weird sex dynamics,” not-Beau says.

Not-Essek’s face blooms red, and Caleb presses a hand to his face to hide the same. “You know very well, Beauregard, that it is an honorific.”

Not-Beau shrugs, looking very pleased with herself as she takes another sip of her drink. Not-Essek glares very polite daggers at her before clearing his throat.

“Thelyss,” he answers.

Beau cups both hands around her mouth and boos.

“No, it’s better that he’s honest,” Veth says. “We already know he’s a terrible actor.”

“Herr Thelyss,” Caleb says, raising his voice above the heckling. “Do you have a question?”

Essek leans forward, resting his elbows on the table in a gesture that’s much too endearing. “I wondered what you will be teaching us today, Professor Widogast.”

Caleb tries not to dwell on the way the title hits differently on Essek’s voice, instead straightening up and waving one hand behind him. An illusory chalkboard appears in the air behind him to polite applause from Veth and Yasha. Back on track.

“Well, this is your first day,” he says. “So I know that - Beauregard, please remove your feet from the table - I know that most of your other teachers will be spending time going over the material that you will be covering this semester, but, ah…” What is he meant to be doing with his hands? They feel limp if they’re at his sides, but too formal behind his back and too awkward in front of him. Perhaps he should have a lectern? Somewhere to rest them, or shuffle with papers?

His gaze drifts back to his “students,” who all blink back at him expectantly. Essek inclines his head as though to prompt him on. He clasps his hands in front of his chest, hoping it will do for now.

“Right,” he continues. “Ja, so I thought we would take a look at something more practical to start. We will leave the reading for tomorrow; you have enough of that today.”

He waves his hands again, and behind him, a set of runes and diagrams appears on the chalkboard. Above it is written the word Prestidigitation.

“So, ah, partner up,” he orders. “Introduce yourselves. If there is someone on their own, a group of three is perfectly acceptable.”

“I call Miss Lionett,” Beau shouts, grabbing Yasha’s hand.

“Can I go to the bathroom, first?” Yasha asks.

Caleb gives her an incredulous look.

“I really do need to go,” she says.

He gestures towards the hallway, and she shuffles off. In the meantime, Veth and Essek scoot their chairs closer together. Caleb’s gaze lingers questioningly on Beau, who shakes her head.

“She’s not learning anything tonight, man. Go ahead.”

“Ja, okay,” he says distantly.

It feels silly, explaining the spell to this motley crew. Beau has leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, eyes glassy, clearly not paying an ounce of attention. Essek has produced a piece of paper upon which Veth occasionally scribbles, though the way he periodically nods approval at Caleb’s points betrays his own prior knowledge of the subject. After a few minutes, Yasha returns and attempts to take down notes of her own.

“Is everyone following along?” he asks after a while, knowing it’s a futile question.

“Yep,” Beau lies.

“Hmm.” Yasha hums.

“Perfectly,” Essek says.

“You’re doing amazing, sweetie,” Veth confirms with a wink.

He continues, running them through the various applications one by one. Beau gives him an occasional “uh huh” that he believes not one bit. At one point, he catches Essek take a passing glance at Veth’s paper, widen his eyes, and lean forward to murmur something to her. He isn’t sure he wants to know what that’s about.

“Let’s keep focused, please, everyone,” he reminds them.

Essek waves a hand to signal him to continue. Nothing too scandalous, then. He goes through the final few points, then comes to stop in front of the chalkboard, hands awkwardly clasped again.

“Okay, that is it,” he says. “You have as much time as you require to finish the spell, and when you are finished, I would like one person from each group to demonstrate.”

He gives the others a questioning look. It’s one of the points he’s most worried about. A way to take pressure off some of the slower students could just as easily be a way to unintentionally foster competition and resentment. But none of them objects, so he gives them another nod.

“I suppose we should skip the demonstration portion,” he mumbles.

“I can do it,” Yasha chirps. Without warning, she swings the massive greatsword from her back and sinks the tip into the table, making the others jump. “I made a small mark.”

Caleb covers his eyes with one hand. “Ja, will it go away in one hour?”

Yasha silently places her drink down over the indentation. Caleb sighs. It isn’t as though he has very many guests, anyway.

“I can probably swing producing an odor, for you,” Beau offers. “But I figure you probably don’t want that.”

He ignores her, and instead gives Essek a tight smile.

“Well, would my second group care to demonstrate?”

Beau jerks a thumb in Essek’s direction and fake-coughs to Yasha, “Teacher’s pet.”

Essek ignores her and sits back, fingers working in those little patterns he draws when something has piqued his curiosity. “I believe so,” he says, and nods to Veth.

Caleb raises his eyebrows as all eyes turn to Veth. Though Essek had the courtesy to leave her a halfling, her features and coloring are entirely different - but that wide smile as she stands and rubs both hands together would give her away, no matter the face it was set in. And as Beau swears under her breath, Yasha and Caleb look on wide-eyed, and Essek watches with a smirk, she pulls her hands apart to let loose a shower of sparks.

“You… learned the spell,” Caleb says numbly. He hadn’t imagined any of them were actually paying attention.

“It was an excellent lesson!” Veth replies.

As she takes her seat again, Beau and Yasha give her a smattering of stunned applause. Essek clears his throat pointedly.

“And I guess, maybe, Essek gave me one pointer,” Veth amends with an eye-roll.

“Hey, so your partner system worked,” Yasha points out.

It had. The lesson had worked, the procedure had worked - his teaching had worked. There’s still a little voice in his head reminding him that Veth is brilliant, and an adult, and perfectly capable of learning things like this without even so much as his help - but he can’t deny that it’s his guidance that taught her this particular spell. ‘An excellent lesson,’ Veth had said. In this moment, he’s inclined to believe it might be half true. Caleb realizes very suddenly that he’s beaming.

With a snap of his fingers, Essek dispels the disguises. The soft smile on his face - his real face, and Caleb always misses it dearly when it’s hidden - says he hasn’t failed to notice Caleb’s relief.

“Danke, all of you,” he says sheepishly, waving a hand to vanish the chalkboard.

“Thank you!” Veth says. “For the shiny new spell and for the masterclass in professoring.”

“You were really good,” Yasha agrees. “I’m, uh... I’m sorry about the table.”

He dips his head to hide the way his face is flushing. They exaggerate, the lot of them. But there is something to be said for having friends who will say such things. “Ja, well,” he says, “I am not convinced it will translate to an actual class, but I will hope.”

Beau takes another swig of her drink, wiping her mouth afterwards. “Dude, we were the worst and you still managed to teach somebody something,” she says. “Those kids have nothing on us. You got this.”

He offers her a smile, retrieving his glass from the table as Yasha, Veth, and Essek do the same. He hopes it’s true. He hopes that, separate entirely from his ability to teach them the how of magic, he will be able to keep them safe. That he will be able to keep from passing on any damage he received in his own time in those halls.

He catches Essek’s eye, and the knowing look there puts some of the anxious buzzing to rest. He will be better. He will struggle, most likely. He will stumble, inevitably. But he will give better than he got. He’s been practicing that part for years.

“To Professor Widogast!” Veth shouts, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“Professor Widogast,” the others echo, and Caleb smiles.

“To my very good friends,” he replies.

“To the hottest professor the Soltryce Academy has ever seen,” Veth shouts in response, and Caleb nearly chokes on his drink when Essek casually clinks his glass against hers with a nod.

They drink together. Caleb thinks, just a little bit, he might be excited.

-

thanks @peregrintook for reading this over and telling me it wasn't the worst thing i had ever written (in much more generous words than that), and @saturdaysky for catching me red-handed last time i deleted it and being so kind about it 💜

#okay here's the strategy. i posted a ficlet i'm happy with last week and i finished another one i'm happy with yesterday #so if i sandwich this in between the two surely i will not believe i am entirely worthless as a writer because of it #...probably #queueing it to post when i'm not home to physically wrench my hand away from the delete post button #shadowgast #background beauyasha #caleb widogast #mine #mine:fic #caleb #essek #veth #beau #yasha

[randynova]

Poor Petal, she must have had a panic attack when she found out she was pregnant for the first time.

She was downright terrified.

She broke down crying, screaming into her pillow, refusing to let Doma hold or console her. Surprisingly, he left her alone, letting her deal with her emotions on her own.

The only words he left her was, "Oh, [Name], I'm so happy. Soon, we're going to be parents, my sweet pretty petal!"

[Name] just couldn't understand how this happened. She was careful, so diligent in taking the tea every night. She began racking her mind, trying to make sense of it all, and search for a possibility why this small mistake occurred.

Until she recalled two months prior, where Doma's insatiable hunger for his wife consumed him. Like an animal in heat, he forced himself on her, ignoring her pleas to stop, releasing his fertile seed deep into her womb. Over and over again, he made sure every night she was filled with his cum, having the sole mission to make her bear his children.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

Doma had to travel southward for demon duties and he felt this was the perfect opportunity for you both to get closer. A whole week together, all alone while he was free from his duties, a chance to finally have some quality bonding time without his cult. It was a dream come true.

However, this place was in the middle of nowhere, hardly any villages, let alone stores, around. All the sources you used to protect yourself from Doma were gone, the foods and teas you consumed to prevent a pregnancy out of reach.

The only people around were fellow upper moons, who stayed far away from your husband, especially you.

Thus, you were forced to endure his doting behavior, forced to play his dangerous games, and forced to let him breed you.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

"Pretty petal. So pretty, so beautiful. You're taking me so well, hah," Doma laughs, snapping his hips harshly, thick balls slapping against your skin. You bounced with every thrust, mewling and whimpering, begging him to slow down. It only stirred him on to go faster. "No, no, no, this is the best way to ensure maximum success with fertilizing you. I have to make sure my seed is as deep as possible inside you, my petal!"

The aching between your legs grew, arching your back as an orgasm washes over you once again. Your juices release over his thick cock, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your velvet walls constrict around him. "Ah! Ah, D-Doma!"

"Mm, hngh! P-petal! Petal! Petal! " Doma whines out, biting his bottom lip, grinning like a madman as the sweet relief of climax fast approaches him. His thrusts turn sloppy and his hips stutter. Quickly, he pulls out and leaves you feeling empty for a few seconds. He grabs your legs, hooking his arms around your knees, and pushes your thighs to your chest, claws digging into your plush skin as he starts to hammer into you. "So-so good! Such a good girl! You'll be such a good mother, sweet petal! Just you wait! I'll make you a mommy, ok? Just- fuck!"

He releases long, thick ropes of cum, painting your womb white with his fertile seed once more. He thrusts weakly, head falling back as he gasps. "Mm, ah-ah, [N-Name]...!" You squeeze your eyes shut, looking to the side, swallowing bitterly as he fills you to the brim, cum leaking out as he slides in and out. It drips onto the bed, staining the pristine, red cotton sheets.

"Oh, petal, please don't look away. I want to see you," Doma croons, pulling out with a shaky breath and looking down at the mess between your legs with a grin. White painted the sheets below like a puddle. He pulls out with a groan. Seeing the way your pussy gushes out his cum, flexing around nothing, it makes him want to take you all over again. He slides two fingers up across your folds, gathering his seed, and pushing it back into your sopping hole with his fingertips. He hums whilsts you whine, rocking your hips at the weird sensation. "Such a pretty sight, you took me so well, petal. I'm so proud of you!"

He's met with silence. Though, it doesn't bother him as he already fulfilled his task for the night. After five long rounds, he believes its enough for the day and he'll repeat the process tomorrow. For now, both of you need rest, we'll, mainly you if you're going to stay awake during the whole ordeal.

You were in a daze as Doma cleaned both you and himself up, changing the sheets into soft clean ones, and covering your body with the blankets, tucking it in.

"Good night, my pretty wife," Doma whispers, taking his spot beside you, his arms slithering around your frame and pulling you close. His chest pressed against your nude back, his legs tangling in yours, and he buried his face in your hair, taking a deep breath of your sweet aroma. "I love you..."

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

Immediately after coming back from your journey, Doma became busy, his schedule packed to the brim with orders from his master. It irritated him, saddened him even, that he would be apart from you for a while.

As much as he loved ravishing your body every night, he had to focus on completing every task with precise accuracy. He doesn't want to disappoint his master after all.

But before he left you alone the first night back, he replaced your assigned follower with a different one. One that reported back to him and carried out his orders, their loyalty to the demon overriding their morals to protect you.

He wasn't stupid. It didn't take long for him to figure out the tea you drank prevented you from becoming pregnant, a huge change to the tea he got to make you fertile. The news did upset him, but he hid the discovery and played along with your little antics. It made him try to come up with a solution, where he disguised the tea you drank to better fit his wishes.

Like an unsuspecting mouse, you walked right into the cat's claws.

Anyone who tried helping you was either eaten by Doma or killed by him in another manner. If the actions of a stupid, disloyal follower was keeping him away from his dream of having a family, the demon won't hesitate to get rid of them. They should know better.

Doma's dreams are his followers' orders.

If he says he dreamt of eating a hundred virgins, his followers should offer him the bountiful feast of meat from a hundred virgins.

If he says he dreamt of growing his cult, his followers should go out and recruit people to join them.

Now, if he says he dreams of a child with his wife, his followers should offer their help and make sure he gets his child.

By god, did they live up to his expectations for once. Everyone - from the ones who prepared your meals to the new members who brought you gifts - made sure every small action built up to the final wish of their leader's plan.

Every food and drink you consumed had been carefully chosen to help make you plump and help the baby grow. Every bath had been filled with excotic herbs to soothe your changing body. Every offering had slowly been gearing towards a human smaller than you. Yet, you never really paid attention to the small differences.

Doma noticed how tired you seem lately, how you complained to the follower assigned to you about the tenderness of your breast and the pain of your abdominal and pelvis area, and even how different you looked, almost glowing.

At first, he didn't put the pieces together. Surely all women were like this, right? Yet, that wasn't the case.

He found himself always wondering why your emotions were easily more unhinged, why you ate the foods he hand-fed you more easily, or why you were napping in the afternoon. Yes, he liked these changes and welcomed them eagerly, believing you were finally warming up to him. But why?

After nearly six weeks, you were worried why your period didn't come. You speculated the stress could have been a prominent factor in causing your late cycle, sometimes occurring in your youth. You seem bloated lately as well, you note, or it could've been weight gain due to the food you have been eating lately. Thus you brushed it off.

It'll come soon, you just know it. Afterall, you're still a human and change is a part of life.

In another area of the temple, a different situation was unfolding. When the trusted follower reported to Doma about your very late menstrual cycle, he clapped with joy like a child being entertained. Of course! How slow can he be?! You finally are carrying his child! The hormonal changes affected how you behaved with him and the sudden weight gain explained it all.

Oh, he just couldn't wait for the day to come!

However...

He had to make sure you did nothing irresponsible to push back his dream.

Doma became more strict and possessive with you. He didn't let you go anywhere alone. Even if you were in the privacy of your room, someone had to be there.

The days where you spent waiting for him in your bedroom were now spent at his side. He forced you to sit on his lap like before, feeding you more than you're used to. Any question concerning his increase of doting behavior was met with a laugh and a kiss to your cheek. "I just love you so much, I want you to be healthy!"

Doma isn't stupid. He knew the moment he mentioned, or even insinuated, you were pregnant, you would break down and possibly affect the baby negatively. He didn't know if you were capable of taking drastic measures of getting rid of it this far along, but he didn't want to find out.

With careful, watchful eyes, Doma made sure everyday you were fed well, that you were always protected, and made sure nothing upset you. He went the extra mile to find medicine and herbs incase you ever fell ill. The demon made sure your attention was always occupied to keep from noticing your changing body.

To say it worked was an understatement.

By the fifth month, you realized despite your growing stomach, you weren't gaining weight anywhere else. Most of your clothes fit like a glove except around your abdomen.

Your heart began to race as you wracked your mind of the events for the past few months.

When was the last time you had gotten your period?

You don't recall changing your sheets every month because you stained it, nor do you recall dealing with the hassle of keeping yourself clean. Come to think of it, you felt at ease these past few months, the usual cramps and cravings you felt no longer bothering you like before.

Ridding yourself of your clothes, slipping your kimono off until you're left in your undergarments of hadajyuban and susuyoke. You undid your sash and revealed your stomach. You're met with the sight of your bulging tummy and tender breasts. Pressing a finger pad to the skin of your stomach, it seemed firm instead of soft and plush. With a shaky breath, you pressed your palms against your stomach and...

Kick. Kick.

You removed your hands immediately, face falling. No...

No. No! No! No!

How didn't you notice it before!?

Your chest fell and rose quickly with every breath you took, hyperventilating as the situation dawned on you. You were pregnant. Actually pregnant with that damn demon's child. A bellowing scream ripped from your throat, the high-pitch intensity resonating like shattering glass throughout the temple.

Doma raced to your bedroom, fearing the worse as he heard his wife scream. He ran into the bedroom, only to be met with your form bawling on the floor, hunched over as sobs wracked your body. Followers tried to console you, yet you ignored them.

Doma approached you carefully and crouched down, but the moment he put a hand on your back, you whipped your head and cracked your hand across his face like a whip. He fell back, catching himself, shock etched into his features. You... You hit him? He paid no mind to the followers who raced to his side, asking him if he was okay. He was more surprised you dared slap him.

The stinging of his cheek didn't hurt , but it caught him off guard. He looked up and leered at you with wide eyes. Yet he clashed with the burning, sorrowful gaze you held.

"Fuck you! Goddamnit, leave me alone, you monster! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!!" You screech, standing up and burying your face in your hands. Tears slipped through your fingers and dripped to the floor.

Doma smiled, finally understanding why you were reacting the way you were. He began chuckling, then giggling, and then he broke into a fit of laughter. He stood up and held a hand to his face, looking at you with a crazed, delighted expression on his face. Gleefully, he spoke, "Oh, petal! You finally caught on!"

You shake your head and begin crying louder, turning your back to the demon. "No, no, no...," you whimper.

"We're going to be parents...," Doma croons, taking small, quiet steps towards you. Like before, he tries pulling you close but you brush him off.

"Please... Please, just leave me alone...!"

"Oh, [Name], you'll see. Once our baby is here, you'll love being a mommy. Just like I'll love being a papa...!"

"No... I didn't want this...."

"But I did! I told you for so long...," Doma whispers, uncomfortably close to you. He lets out a breathy laugh. "And now that you're finally with child, I'm going to make sure I see my baby no matter what."

You could only stand in horror, listening to his voice. The panic crawled up your throat, fear taking hold of you as you froze up. With bated breath, you wait for him to leave. But his next words made your heart drop and blood run cold.

"I'm willing to do anything for our child, [Name]. Even if it means I may have to hurt you to guarantee their safe arrival."

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

Doma is not submissive and breedable. He is dominant and fertile.

He finally has his wish of having a family with the woman he loves.

And he'll do anything to make it come true.

Even if it means he has to become the monster and hurt you to get it.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

©𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚊 || 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚍 || 𝚗𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜, 𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚜, 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚎𝚝𝚌. 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚌𝚒𝚛𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜,

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

#fanfiction #x reader #kny x reader #kny doma #kny douma #doma #Douma #kimitsu no yaiba #doma x reader #douma x reader #kny doma x reader #doma x you #demon slayer doma #demon slayer x you #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer imagines #demon slayer imagine #demon slayer douma #demon slayer #douma x you #douma #douma demon slayer #doma demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba imagines #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #doma kny #douma kny #anime #manga

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hue and Cry

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; abuse of power, threats, chase.

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

Synopsis: You notice a sudden change in Lord Barnes.

Note: This is just me being self-indulgent. I start a new job on Monday and yesterday, someone close to me passed. I’m trying to distract myself but I’m too stressed to work on an standing series. This will have at least one other part.

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You scattered fresh herbs over the rushes carefully as you backed down the hall. The woven mats would absorb the scent and keep the floors tidy until the next sweep. When you reached the corner, you tied up the sachet and gathered up your bucket and broom. The corridors were already smelling fresher though the task had kept you well past the evening meal. 

Your usual chores you assigned to Marjorie. As the years piled on her crooked back, she wasn’t as suited to the more physical tasks. Sweeping would have been too hard on her and you didn’t mind the solitary of the work.

You turned past the kitchens and stopped. Your footsteps seemed to echo behind you. You looked back but saw nothing in the shadows. It was late and most of the castle was asleep already, the torches were snuffed but for a few and you could find you way through the dark easily in the familiar castle.

You went to the rear door of the castle on the lower green, just beside the stables, and dumped the dirt. You heard the horses snoring and nicking as the moon shone down on the wood roofs. You basked for a moment in the silver light and the brisk night air. The harvest season was coming to an end and it would soon be cold.

You dropped the bar as you went back inside and returned your broom and bucket to the cellar. Again you heard a step that did not quite align with your own as you came into the corridor. You spun slowly and glanced around. Some of the younger servants were known to sneak around after hours and there was the odd mouse that skittered over the stone. You saw nothing and went on, more than ready to retire to your straw mattress beside Elsa.

“You sent the old lady,” the voice had your heart in your throat and you stopped short to bow to your liege.

“My lord, I was occupied elsewhere. Harold approved the reassignment,” you said shakily. It was unlike him to traverse the lower floors.

“She spilled wine on my tunic,” Lord Barnes said, “and she can barely see her own crooked nose.”

“My lord, she is old, we did not want her to tax herself--”

“She is a servant. Like you. You have your work and she has hers,” he stepped forward out of the dark shadows though there was no lantern or torch to limn his features, “I bid you to bring my meals and tidy my chambers, no one else. There are far too many covetous servants.”

You were put off by his confrontation. You replaced his former chambermaid several years back but Lord Barnes hardly seemed to warm to the change. He never offered more than an obligatory courtesy and when he was present during your tasks, he rarely spoke at all. Your service had been one of complacency on both sides, so you wondered why he would come to the lower floors to search you out after dark.

“I will be there tomorrow, my lord,” you said, “I apologise for my negligence.”

“And every day thus,” he demanded as he got closer.

“Yes, my lord,” you lowered your chin, “as you wish.”

He stopped only an inch from you and you felt him staring down at you. You didn’t dare look back, that would be an affront to any noble. He let out a long breath and slowly backed away.

“Go, you must be worn out from your hard work,” he retreated, “and there is as much to do on the morrow.”

“My lord,” you bent again and listened to his footsteps fade.

When you dared to look up, he was gone. The man was always particular, even those of his own standing were not guaranteed an audience, even as they visited his estate. He stayed far from court since his injury and on those occasions he did travel to the capital, it was not for more than a fortnight. 

You did not take the encounter lightly. He had dismissed labour for less and you did not relish a job outside the castle, there wasn’t much to be had in the village. As dull as the work was, it provided you a place to sleep and comforts not known to many others of your breeding.

🏰

When you went to the lord’s chambers the next morning, he was away. His horse had been saddled for an early ride and you did not expect him until his evening meal. After your tasks, you kept busy until you were due with his supper. When you arrived with the tray, he was not there. You waited but he did not appear. You left the tray covered to keep the food warm and went to attend the last of your nightly duties.

You retired without seeing the lord once. The next day passed in kind, and the next, and the next. You wondered for a moment if it was due to his ire with you but quickly shrugged away the notion. Lord Barnes did not think so much of you and his absence was not so unusual. He was a reticent man even if he was willful.

The first you saw him again was with his supper. He sat at his large carved desk as you entered with the tray and you crossed to the round painted table. He raised a hand and tutted as he didn’t look up from the parchment before him.

“Bring it here,” he ordered.

You went to him and set down the tray on the left flank of his desk. You filled his goblet and he blindly reached over to take it. He gulped and kept his head down as he picked the chicken to pieces and chewed over the inky words.

You retraced your steps to the door, usually he ate alone, as he did most things. You only returned to clear his scraps.

“Do you not see the mess?” he asked without looking up. You turned and followed his sharp point to the shelves along the wall. “It is difficult to focus in the chaos.”

“My lord,” you nodded and went to the oaken shelves. You rearranged the crooked spines and tidied the stack of loose leaves. You took the cloth from your apron and wiped down the line of inkwells. You could hear him chewing quietly behind you as he shifted in his chair.

“And you will ready my bed for the night,” he demanded as you finished up, “pull back the covers, it’s been a tiresome day.”

He lifted the parchment and leaned back as he wiped his fingers on his breeches. You acquiesced with a “yes, my lord,” and went to his bedchamber. 

You folded down the heavy blankets and linen and fluffed the pillows. You took the brick from the foot of the bed and set it in the hearth. The fall slipped in through the windows and the chill of the castle was no longer so welcomed.

“I won’t need that,” Barnes said as he entered. He was so quiet, you jumped and stood straight. You spun and bowed your head.

“Will that be all, my lord?” you asked as he unbuttoned his overcoat with one hand.

“My footman has been stricken with an ague after we were caught in the rain,” he said evenly, “you can aid with my wardrobe.”

“My lord?”

“Here,” he pointed in front of him and pulled his jacket free of his left arm, “you will take these,” he handed you the garment as you neared, “to the laundries.”

You kept your eyes on the plain grey fabric as he shoved his boots aside and added his socks to your armful, then lifted his tunic as you peered at the floor. He pulled of the leather glove that hid his iron hand, the metal forged to the mirror of his real extremity. You resisted the yen to look higher up the artificial appendage.

You were unprepared to act as his footman and as he stripped away his layers it made you squirm. He rolled down his breeches and slung them over the rest of his clothes.

He stood in only in his undershorts and bent your head lower, “my lord.” You backed away and he caught your elbow. He stopped you and you hugged the pile of clothes with your other arm.

“Didn’t you miss me?” he asked.

The question struck you. You were unsure how to answer. You were used to the silent, brooding lord, not this pensive, prodding master.

“My lord?” you frowned.

“You didn’t?” he urged, “do you not enjoy your duties?”

“I am only… uncertain of what you mean, my lord. I apologise for my displeasing response but I do not know how to answer.”

You looked at his hand still on your elbow. He squeezed and slowly his palm glided up your sleeve. You shivered as he pushed his hand against your neck and his thumb tickled under your chin.

“I must confess I missed you,” he said, “I did stay away because I was upset at your absence and thought to punish you in kind but it seems, it hasn’t had the same effect.”

“What do-- my lord?” you kept your eyes down as his hand moved higher and he brushed along your lower lip.

“I know I shouldn’t let these… feelings persist but there are many lords who indulge without emotion. I assure you, I do not touch you in a meaningless manner.”

“My lord,” you took a step back and he stopped you again. This time his hand gripped your jaw. He pulled you flush to him.

“Look at me,” he hissed. Your lip trembled and you raised your eyes reluctantly, “you continue to deflect me; your lord.”

You stared at him, searched his deep blue eyes desperately, and shivered, “I only seek to fulfill my duties as your chambermaid.”

“And I offer you more. Offer you… privilege over duty,” he rasped, “I would not mistreat you.”

Your heart raced and you wiggled in his grasp. You peeked down at your armful, “I should get these to the laundries, as you bid, my lord.”

He was silent, just for a moment, then he let go of you and tore his clothes from your arm. “You would deny me?”

You stumbled back and watched him fearfully, “my lord, I only-- I am only a maid--”

“I have a dozen maids,” he growled, “I would have you as more. I would take care of you.”

He bore down on you again and you backed up until you were at the hearth, the mantle jutting out against your head. You turned your head as he loomed over you and his hot breath washed over you. His hand was again at your throat as his lips trailed along your cheek.

“A lord does not ask,” he sneered, “a servant obeys.”

“My lord--”

“Shhh,” he hushed as he turned your head and pressed his lips to yours. He parted, his nose rubbing against yours as his hand stretched over your neck, “I can be kind or I can be cruel. Thus far, I’ve spent most of my patience on you.”

You quivered as he kissed you again. You were too afraid to resist as his hand descended to your bodice and he squeezed. You gasped into his mouth and he smiled against you. He grasped your waist and pressed himself to you.

Your blood went cold as the panic rose up your spine. As he tugged at your skirts, you were blinded by fear. You reached up along the mantle as he dipped his head to kiss your neck. You couldn’t think through your shock, your body seemed to move off instinct.

You grasped the beaten metal vase and swung it down on Lord Barnes’ head. He grunted and stumbled back as he touched his head and tried to shake away the pain of the impact. You tossed the vase and it bounced over the stone as you scurried for the door. You tripped as you reached the receiving chamber and heard him behind you, his steps slowly gaining strength.

“You little bitch,” his tone turned to fire.

You struggled to get the heavy door open and raced into the hall. You lifted your skirts as you barreled ahead of him on the stone. Your thin soles slapped the mats and you hurdled down the stairs as you heard his pants coupled with your own. Down and down and down and down.

You led him through the mazed corridors and flitted out through the lower doors behind the stables. You fell into the dirt and quickly climbed back to your feet. You tore off across the yard as he swore into the air and his steps came to a halt.

“I will find you!” he shouted as you head for the wall, your only hope was the tree winding up the east corner, “You won’t get far!” You reached the trunk of the towering oak and your hands scraped against the bark as you hopped and latched onto the lowest branch. You heard him calling to others, “saddle my horse! Rise and ready my horse, boy!”

You reached the top of the wall, weak and worn and hooked your leg over the stone. You carefully scaled the uneven brickwork and the tangled vines. As your feet met the dirt, you turned and fled towards the tree line, darkened with the myths of vengeful wraiths and wicked witches, driven by the threat of a worse monster behind you, the voices and hooves an omen of his intent.

#Bucky Barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #medieval #medieval au #medieval!au #fic #miniseries #dark fic #dark!fic #mcu #marvel #au #winter soldier

[sundaysundaes]

Drunk Antics

Mark Lee X Reader, ft. Johnny | Smut, Fluff | 5.8k | College AU

Summary: After being caught having sex with your previously virgin boyfriend, you thought Mark and your brother Johnny would never get along. That is until your boy comes back to your room in the drunkest state he’s ever been after a short trip to the bar with his Johnny-hyung, asking you to try new tricks he’s learned from the Master of Sex.

Sort of a continuation from Our First Time but can be read separately.

Warnings: Smut, oral sex, drunk unprotected sex. For the sake of the very little plot there is, Mark is intoxicated in this fic so his consent may be unclear. Please don’t read this fic if this makes you feel uncomfortable. I also don’t approve nor allow taking advantage of your romantic partner while they are under the influence of alcohol.

“You forgot that you borrowed his AirPods?!” Your boyfriend is shrieking in whispers, doe eyes shaking in fear and horror as he kneels on your bed, trying to shamelessly hog every inch of your blanket to cover his body.

Mark is so drowning in panic that he doesn’t even notice that you, in fact, are still naked. “I was going to use them before to work on my assignment,” you try to reason, “but then you came so I kind of forgot about them.”

“Kind of?!” He screeches. “I agreed to have sex with you because I thought you were sure that he had his AirPods on!”

You stare at him flatly. “You’re making me feel like I just took advantage of you.”

“I am feeling like you just took advantage of me!”

“You just lost your virginity, I think you have to thank me instead.”

“Babe,” Mark grabs both of your shoulders, staring with wide eyes as if there’s a ghost lurking behind your back but he’s trying his best to calm you down (though he’s pretty much shitting his own pants). “You should’ve remembered that you took his AirPods. He heard us.”

“Mark,” you imitate his tone mockingly, taking a hold of his shoulders in the same manner. “It would’ve been super weird if I thought about my brother when I have my hot boyfriend rubbing his dick against my ass.”

Distracted, a sheepish smile forms on his face. “You think I’m hot?” But he shakes himself awake on the next second, going back to yanking out his hair with both hands. “No, wait—what am I going to do—your brother heard us having sex—I can’t—”

“I heard my brother having sex all the time.” You shrug nonchalantly. “Sometimes even when he’s alone in his room, which is gross.”

“THAT’S NOT THE POINT—”

“Guys?” Johnny’s knocks on the door are becoming more impatient. “I swear to God, if you two go back to sucking each other off, I’m going to throw Mark under the bus and run him over myself.“

Mark’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “Did you hear that?!”

You roll your eyes in response, reaching out to the table beside your bed and snatch Johnny’s AirPods from inside the drawer. “Here,” you hand it over to Mark.

Your boyfriend reacts as if you just handed him a bowl of hot lava and he fumbles with his hands, shoving the AirPods back to you with so much horror in his eyes. “Why are you giving me this—no—no—”

“Mark, honey.” You gently smile, pushing the thing back in the most motherly way you can manage. “I’m covered in cum—your cum, in case you forgot—and you’re hogging all the blanket—“

“No—”

“Also, I’m sweaty and gross. Can you please be a man for once and let me take my shower? You can still join me afterward.”

“Babe!” You can tell he’s about to throw up out of fear but he’s just so cute, you can’t help but keep teasing him about it. “This is not fair—he’s going to kill me! And what do you mean ‘for once’, am I—“

“Okay, guys, any day now.” Your brother, Johnny, calls again from the other side of the door. “If one of you don’t come out and hand me back my AirPods in the next ten seconds, I am literally going to call the police.”

Mark nearly jumps out of his own skin. “What?!”

“Oh, shut up, Johnny,” you shout back, mouthing calming words to your boyfriend who looks like he’s seconds away from fainting. “You’re not going to do that and we both know it!”

“But I am going to call our Mom.”

“That he might do,” you say, wincing a little at Mark. “Okay, I’m going to take a shower.” You lean forward to give him a peck on his cheek. “Good luck, babe.” And you sprint off to the bathroom inside your room, all while holding out your best not to cackle loudly.

“Where are you going—Baby, get back here!” You can hear Mark protesting in whispers, but you just send him flying kisses and a wink, and shut the bathroom door behind you.

Mark’s soul is leaving his body, he can feel it. And that’s okay, because Johnny is going to kill him anyway. But when the older man really starts to count to ten, Mark jumps out of the bed, tripping approximately three times as he tries his best to dress himself back in his own clothes while muttering the words “shit” and “fuck” repetitively under his breath.

When he’s sure he looks less fucked than before, Mark opens the door, breathing hard as if he just did the worst workout in his life.

“H-hey,” Mark starts, attempting to throw his best look-at-me-I’m-a-good-boy-who-did-not-just-fuck-your-sister-when-you-were-around smile at the other man. “How’s it going, man?” His voice breaks in the middle of his line and he winces as he tries to calculate the least painful death options he can commit.

Johnny unenthusiastically gazes back at him. “What are you doing?”

“I’m… smiling at you?”

“Don’t. You look like a serial killer.”

“S-sorry, I’m—“ Mark’s eyes start searching everywhere but Johnny’s eyes as he feels his own feet turning into jelly. “I guess I’m nervous.”

“Nervous? Why?” Johnny places his hands inside the pocket of his jeans, looking way too intimidating for your boyfriend to handle. “Because you just had sex with my sister while I’m in the house?”

Mark’s jaw is almost dislocating from his face from how wide he opens his mouth. “I—I, umm—“ He clears his throat, wiping a bead of sweat off his forehead. “S-so, you really heard us, huh?” He tries to laugh it off, which he soon regrets from the way Johnny’s eyes are throwing daggers at him.

“Yeah, well,” Johnny shrugs, “My ears don’t have on-and-off buttons that I can switch whenever I want. I used to have my AirPods to do that job, but she borrowed them to help her concentrate while doing her assignment.” He gives out a sly grin, almost mockingly. “Little did I know that her assignment was you.”

If he didn’t feel like dying before, Mark is sure as hell feeling it now. “I’m so sorry—I swear, she told me you had them—I also thought you were downstairs—“

“Yeah, I do go upstairs from time to time, you know, ‘cause my room is over there,” he dully replies, nudging his head to the end of the corridor, where his room is located next to yours.

Mark’s entire body shudders in horror. “Dude, I didn’t know—I thought that was a storage room—oh God—”

“Don’t call me dude. I’m not your dude.”

“Fuck—sorry, you’re right—I’m—“ He’s hyperventilating by this point. “Is there any place in this house where I can kill myself?”

“You can try jumping off my balcony,” Johnny answers in the most casual way that Mark begins to question whether he’s really being serious about it.

“G-great, I’ll put that in my options,” is all Mark has to say. “Thanks.”

“Sure thing, bud.” Johnny yawns, offering one hand to the other man which Mark stupidly enough stares in confusion before he takes a hold of it and gives it a sweaty handshake. Johnny switches his gaze from Mark’s face to their hands before he brings back to stare at him straight in the eyes and says, “My AirPods, you idiot.”

“FUCK—“ Mark is so embarrassed that he stumbles on his feet, knocks the side of his head against the door frame, and does a silent scream when the pain jolts to his entire body.

“Man, I wish I had my phone ready to record all of that,” Johnny comments.

Mark is too much in pain to recognize his mumbling. He fumbles with the AirPods in his hand, shoving them to Johnny’s chest. “Shit, I don’t know why I thought you wanted a handshake—here—oh my God—I’m so sorry—“

Even Johnny seems a little bit amused at his antics by this point. “Thanks,” he says, tucking the AirPods inside the pocket of his jeans. “You have some time to spare?”

Mark gulps. “Are you going to kill me?”

“Not until the end of the day.” Johnny says, and Mark laughs a little bit too loud and a little bit too hard and by the way Johnny smiles, he still can’t tell whether he’s joking or not. “Come on, let’s go have a drink.”

“Umm I-I don’t think I should—“

“Not a request, Mark.”

“Yes sir, on my way!” And he knocks himself once again against the door frame as he rushes forward to follow his steps.

“Also, Mark?”

“Yes?”

“Your shirt’s inside out.”

***

“Mark?” Your voice is answered by the silence of your room. You’re feeling a little bit dizzy from the hot shower you just took. You took a bit long in the bathroom, waiting for Mark to come and join you with a cute pout on his lips and tears in his eyes (that’s how you imagined him to be anyway) but your boyfriend, it turns out, was not even in your room. You put on your clothes—a knitted navy blue sweater with sleeves a little bit too long for your arms and a simple pair of jeans—and head downstairs, searching your house but nobody comes to answer. Sighing, you go back to your room and try to call his cellphone but immediately feel disappointed when his ringtone comes from under the bed.

“Great, he forgot his cellphone,” you mutter to yourself, picking his phone up and throws it on the bed. “Did he really run home without telling me?” The image of Mark panicking and running away from your house like his life depends on it sure does look like it’s something he does out of shame. But judging by how great your previous sex activity was, you figure that he’s probably going to go back to you sooner or later. He also has his phone to retrieve anyway.

So it’s time for you to actually get some work done. There’s no other reason for you to run away from your goddamn thesis and the day is getting late. After having some ramyun for dinner, you finally begin working on your assignment.

It’s hard to start, but a few minutes after you get your head to it, you start losing track of time. You’re finally done with your work (most of it anyway), already closing your laptop and place it back on your backpack, when your door abruptly swings open, showing your boyfriend’s face with the biggest grin on his face.

“Baby, I’m home,” he says in a sing-song voice, a bit slurry and a little high pitched. Before you can say anything—too busy trying to figure out how high he is judging from the dopey look on his face—Mark is giggling and walks closer to you. “You know,” he says, placing a hand on your desk and leaning close enough for you to know that he reeks of alcohol. “I just had the greatest day of my life today. And it’s all because. of. you.” He pokes your nose repetitively between every word.

“Mark—“

“Are you hungry? I’m hungry. Do you want some pancakes, because man, I’d love some pancakes—“

“What, are you drunk?” The answer is obvious but you ask anyway.

“No, I’m Mark.” He grins, chuckling at his lousy joke.

“You are so drunk.”

“And you,” he snickers, pinching one of your cheeks, “are so cute~”

You swat his hand away. “Where have you been?”

“I went to a bar with your brother,” he giggles again, playfully massaging your shoulders. “He’s so coooool~”

“What?!”

“Yeah, he’s, like, so tall and, like, so fit.” You can’t believe you’re hearing your boyfriend fangirling over your brother. “And he knows a lot of stuff—like, a lot a lot.”

You certainly have to kick Johnny in the shins after this. “How—why—I thought you were—“

“Babe, you’re rambling.”

You can’t believe you’re turning into him, so you clear your throat and try again. “How drunk are you exactly?”

“Drunk enough to know that this,” he stops to pick up the fishbowl you placed on the bedside table—where Marky the Goldfish is sleeping with its eyes open—and lifts it up to his face, “water cannot be drunk but drunk enough to contemplate about doing it.”

You make a face. “Leave Marky alone.”

“Why did you name it after me?”

“Because it’s dumb. Like you.”

“Huh, can’t really argue with that.” He snorts, placing the fishbowl back to the table and tripping on his feet as he does so—spilling some water from the side but thank God, your fish is safe and alive, though probably also a little bit drunk because of that sudden… turbulence.

“Oops,” he giggles, “Sorry, Marky.” He doesn’t look regretful in the slightest. You stare at him in silence, unconsciously judging him with all you have and usually, he would start becoming nervous and fumbling with his words but now, he just looks at you like you’re the best thing that ever happened to him and rushes forward.

“Man, I love you.” He tackles you into a hug, almost sending you toppling down your chair, “I love you so much. Have I said that today?”

This is certainly not the way you imagined your first confession to be like, especially coming from Mark who’s usually shy and too childish to admit his feelings. “No, you haven’t,” you retort. “Ever.”

“What, really?” His eyes are perfectly round and wide, actually surprised about it. “Shit, I’m sorry. Come here.” He pulls you up to your feet, cradling you into his arms, hands flailing all over your body before they finally rest on your waist. “I can’t believe we had sex and I didn’t even tell you that. I’m so sorry.” He leans back, putting some space between you so he can stare directly into your eyes. “I love you. I’ve always been for a while. I’m so in love with you that I can barely concentrate whenever you’re around.”

You wish he wasn’t drunk out of his mind because those words, those lines, could have been so romantic but even though he looks romantic, you’re not sure whether he’s being one hundred percent conscious about it.

“Okay, let’s talk about this again when you’re sober.” You tap his cheek with one hand and pinch it when he whines. “Have you even taken a shower yet?”

“Yeah, this morning.” He smiles dreamily at you, kissing the inside of your palm. You can’t believe how bold and greasy he becomes when he’s drunk. “And yesterday. And the day before that. And—”

“Okaaaay.” You shut him up by placing your hand above his mouth, which he licks like a little puppy, earning a surprised yelp from you. “Mark!”

“Babe!” He imitates before throwing himself to the bed, laughing at your face. “Come here, join me in my bed.”

“That’s my bed.”

“Isn’t that what I said?”

You exhale loudly, rolling your eyes. “I don’t think you can go home at this state. Your mom would kill me.”

“But I’m already home,” he says, crawling toward you until he kneels at the edge of the bed, face to face with you. “Home is wherever the heart is, right? And my heart is with you.”

You curse yourself inwardly for having your heart flutter at his embarrassing line and you hate yourself even more when he notices you’re blushing.

“Whatever. Just take a shower and get some sleep.” You walk back to your desk, flipping around the pages of your textbook. “I still have two chapters to read.”

You can hear your boyfriend huffing behind you, but try your best to ignore him. It’s an impossible feat, it turns out, when Mark sneaks up behind you, circling his arms around your shoulders and peppers few kisses down the side of your neck.

“Mark—“

“You smell so good.” He inhales deeply, burying his nose in the strands of your hair. Standing up, you turn around to face him so you can protest and push him away but the look on his face makes you freeze.

“You’re so cute,” he says, running his hand up from the curve of your neck to cup your cheek. “And You’re so pretty. And hot. You’re so…” He begins staring at your lips, eyes unfocused. “Hot.”

You can tell it’s coming but when he kisses you, almost hungrily, it feels like he’s snatching your breath away. “Mark, wait—”

“Not waiting,” he murmurs against your lips, pulling your hand over his shoulder so you’re forced to lean your entire weight against his chest. Mark’s calloused hands travel down your body, wrapping both against the back of your thighs and lifts them up so you can wrap your legs around his waist. You follow his lead though still not entirely convinced that you should continue this.

Mark kicks your sliding chair away with one leg and places you down on your desk. He roughly pushes all your papers and textbooks to the end of the table, making enough space where you can sit facing him, with your legs tangling around his waist.

You have spent a decent amount of time kissing Mark over the months you’ve been dating, but only now that you have the chance to kiss him when he’s drunk and you’re aware just how much you’ve been missing.

The drunk version of Mark Lee unexpectedly kisses much more slowly compared to the sober version of Mark Lee, and if you thought fast, passionate kisses were hot, then these slow, deep kisses are sending actual shivers down your spine.

Mark has his right hand cupping your cheek, rubbing comforting circles on your skin with his thumb, while his other one is around your waist, slipping his fingers underneath the hem of your sweater. He angles your head to the side, and his parting lips fit like a perfect puzzle piece with yours. There’s a shy trace of his tongue along your bottom lip, as he nibbles at it slowly and he lets out this small moan as he does it as if it’s something he’s been wanting to do for years and just finally able to do it now.

He tastes like alcohol and you’re not particularly fond of it but the more he kisses you, the more you think it doesn’t matter because he still somewhat tastes like how Mark usually does and you always love the way he tastes on your tongue.

He drags your chin down with his thumb, tasting you a little bit deeper and as he presses his hips against yours, his breathing becomes ragged and you just realize that you probably have a kink for all of this stuff because holy mother of God, this is just so hot.

“Mark,” you sigh as he moves away to kiss your ear, warm lips pressing against your earlobe. He hums in a low, breathy voice that you’ve never heard him do and it makes your stomach flip. “Mark, you’re drunk.” It’s more like a reminder to yourself because you know that as the sober one, you have to put a stop to this but what can you do when he has his tongue tracing against your skin and his soft moans vibrating through your ears?

“Baby,” he whispers, pulling away a little so you can see his eyes and fuck, it’s the biggest mistake you’ve made today—bigger than forgetting that you borrowed Johnny’s AirPods. His eyes are half-lidded, utterly filled with lust and the way he licks his bottom lip as he stares at you has you breathless. He leans closer, as if he’s about to kiss you again, and whispers, “Don’t you want me?”

You remember that you said the same thing earlier to him that day and it makes you think how karma is a fucking bitch. You secretly wonder whether you have the same effect on him because Mark is being so irresistible right now and he successfully makes you throw all of your reasoning to the back of your head.

“Fuck this,” you claim under your breath, pulling him down to you by the neck and crush your mouth together. You can feel your boyfriend smiling into the kiss, and the sounds of your wet kisses make your heartbeat go crazy.

“Take off your shirt,” you command, already grabbing the end of his shirt and struggling as you try to pull it over his head. Mark helps, chuckling a little bit and when it’s off, he has his lips against your neck again. His teeth are prickling against your skin, sucking it until it’s bruised and you have to remind yourself to be angry about it later—because you have classes tomorrow and what if anyone sees that nasty hickey on your neck?—but right now, you just want him to mark you over and over again.

Mark starts to unbutton your jeans, pulling the zipper down and you use your free hand and legs to shake your pants off. It’s not easy, and you almost kick your boyfriend in the face while doing so, but he laughs it off and kisses you again. You can tell how hard he is when he presses himself against you, and you’re eager to put him out of his misery but he suddenly pulls away, saying, “Wait, let me do this first,” and he kneels on the floor, his face right between your legs.

You can feel your breath hitched when he runs his fingers on the inside part of your thighs, his lips follow soon after. He slips his fingers around the edge of your panties and pulls them down. You suddenly feel so exposed to the way he’s looking at you so you pull the end of your sweater down, trying to cover your thighs as much as you can.

“Why are you so shy?” Mark says, taking your hand away and pressing his lips against your palm. His eyes never leave yours and they twinkle in the most teasing way. “You weren’t shy about this before.”

“Stop looking at it too much,” you reply nervously, can’t help but to blush about it. “I feel weird.”

Mark chuckles, airily and soft. “Sorry, I just didn’t have the chance to really see you before,” he explains, one hand unconsciously rubbing your thigh, trying to calm you down. “Can I eat you out?”

Sober Mark will definitely not say anything like this—hell, sober Mark will probably faint just thinking about saying stuff like this—which is why you’re becoming even more nervous and excited at the same time.

“Baby?” Mark calls, smiling softly. “I kind of asked you a question.”

Fuck me. “Yes,” you breathe out, and you realize he was just messing with you before but who the fuck cares right now.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Mark, please.” You can hear yourself whining and you hate yourself for it, but desperate times call for desperate measures. “Please eat me out, Mark.”

He smiles in the sexiest way that you don’t think it’s possible—like seriously, who is this guy?—biting his lower lip as he does so and if he keeps doing that, you figure he doesn’t even have to eat you out to make you come undone.

He presses his lips near your heat, whispering, “Good girl,” before he places his mouth on the exact spot you want him to be.

“Fuck,” you hiss, biting your own lip as you see his head move between your legs. Mark has his eyes closed, repeating what he has learned earlier that day and does the thing you like the most. When he locks his eyes with yours, you almost choke out a sob.

“Mark,” you try to keep your voice down in whispers but Mark is so good that it feels much easier to work on your goddamn stupid thesis rather than holding back your moan.

“Mmm.” The way he moans at the back of his throat as if he’s having the best time of his life makes you weak and you press your thighs together without knowing. Mark places his hands on each side of your thighs and spreads your legs wide apart, allowing himself to be even closer and making you feel way more exposed. You have to grip your desk with both hands to keep yourself from falling.

“Okay, no, stop—“ You find yourself breathing hard, pushing him back by the shoulder and he raises a questioning eyebrow.

“Was it not good?” He asks and you curse inwardly.

“Mark,” You grab him by the silver necklace he has around his neck, pulling him up so you’re face-to-face. “I’m about to come, what do you think?”

“Really?” He looks impressed with himself. “Then, why did you stop me?”

You tangle your legs around his waist, bringing him close and grind your hips against his. “You know why.”

Mark’s thin lips part in a silent moan, whispering, “Fuck,” under his breath but he tries to keep his composure. “No, I don’t,” he says, teasing you though he doesn’t look like he’s able to hold himself back long. “Babe, I literally just lost my virginity a few hours ago. You have to tell me what you want.”

“Mark.”

“Babe.”

You scowl at him and scowl harder when he has this shit-eating grin on his face, and if your eyes could throw daggers, he’d be in so much pain right now. But Mark is making a sound between a giggle and a snort, which is rather cute but you still kick him in the stomach for playing with you at a time like this. “Mark, come on! I want you to fuck me!”

He takes a hold of your thigh, leaning down to place kisses under your ear. “And where do you want me to fuck you, exactly?” He whispers, purposely making an mmm sound as he sucks on your earlobe. “Should we move to the bed?”

“No, fuck, just do it here.” You unbuckle his belt, pushing his jeans and boxer down to around his thighs, low enough for you to stroke his member and position it toward your entrance. “Mark, just put your cock inside me.”

It seems like he’s beginning to lose his mind over how desperate you are actually begging him. You guide him toward you, making sure he’s not doing anything wrong and when he pushes inside, you just have to bite on his shoulder to muffle your moan.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans, eyes closing shut as he grips on your thighs, nails sinking into the skin almost painfully. “I couldn’t remember whether you were you this tight before but—oh God—”

His movements are still a bit sloppy, but soon he finds the pace you both like and maintains it. When he sees you throwing your head back in pleasure, he grins to himself and lifts your sweater up to your chest. You help him take it off, unclasping your bra with so much effort as he continues pounding into you.

He’s so consumed by the sight of your breasts bouncing up and down matching his thrusts until he can’t take it anymore. “Babe, can I go a little bit rough?”

“Wha—fuck!” It’s your luck that you don’t slam your head against the wall from the sudden force Mark is thrusting into you. He has his mouth on your breast, moving his hips much quicker than before,  and moaning your name several times under his breath. The desk is clearly making a sound as it bumps against the wall but you don’t care—your parents are out of town and Johnny already heard you two before anyway. You can just apologize to him tomorrow.

Mark suddenly changes position, lifting one of your legs up in the air while keeping the other down so he can slide in deeper. “Johnny-hyung told me to try this,” he says with a smirk on his face. He’s breathing quite hard, just like you. He kisses the side of your ankle once before he lays your leg on his shoulder. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

When he moves his hips again, with so much force that you have to hold on to the table, you’re pretty much just screaming his name. Mark’s bangs are sticking to his skin as beads of sweat start to form on his temple, and he pushes his hair back with one hand, chanting your name like a prayer and recording every expression you make in his mind.

You can handle his movements but you’re sure the skin around your waist is going to bruise tomorrow from how hard he’s holding you. You’re getting distracted by the way the muscles on his abs flex with every movement that it catches you off guard when he suddenly says, “I love you,” between his soft moans. You shudder at his words, leaning forward to wrap your fingers around his arm, begging for support. “Mark, you’re not fair—“ The rest of your sentence dies when he hits the spot that makes you see stars.

It’s a little bit embarrassing for you, the much more experienced one, to come undone before he does but Mark doesn’t stop, even if you beg him to. “Hold on to me,” he says, smashing his lips against yours and adding, “Just a little bit more, baby,” between kisses.

When he’s finished, your back and legs are aching so much that he has to carry you onto the bed. Mark shakes his pants off before he slides under the blanket next to you. He asks whether you want to shower and you shake your head. “Tomorrow. I can barely stand right now, to be honest,” you comment which earns a light chuckle from him.

You both sigh out loud, staring at the ceiling and trying the process what the fuck just happened.

“Mark?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“I know it’s bad for your health, but do you think you can get drunk more often?”

He giggles at that, turning to his side so he can face you. He looks so sleepy and you let him caress your face with his fingers with the little energy he has left. “Thank you for today,” he says, smiling dreamily. He leans closer to press your temples together, rubbing the tip of his nose to yours in a childish manner before he kisses you softly. He drifts off to sleep soon after.

When you wake up the next morning, still naked and gross from the night before, you realize that yes, small purplish bruises are forming on the skin of your thighs, waist and for sure, your neck. You look to your right, seeing your boyfriend still sleeping soundly with his stomach pressed against your bed and his lips slightly parted. You don’t have the heart to wake him up, but your parents can come home anytime soon and they cannot catch the two of you looking like this.

“Mark,” you softly call, placing a hand on his cheek and rubbing his skin with your thumb. “Mark, wake up.”

He groans, turning his face away from you. You tap his shoulder, run a hand through his dark locks and still nothing. Huffing, you gather the very little energy you have—without coffee in the morning, you’re pretty much nothing—to turn his body around and crawl on top of him.

“Wha—” Mark’s eyes are half-open but don’t stay so for long when he notices how you’re basically straddling his bare abs with your naked body. He panics so much that he begins to flail all over the place and end up falling from the bed and knocking you off his lap in the process.

You break into a train of laughter, pulling some blanket to cover your body. “Guess sober Mark is back.”

“Why are you naked?!” He shrieks, head peeping out from under the bed, and he shrieks louder when he notices that he’s also in his birthday suit. “Why am I naked?!”

“You seriously don’t remember?”

Mark takes a few seconds to himself, trying to process everything that his blurry memories can give and his jaw falls slack on his face when he realizes that, “We had sex!”

“Yeah, we did. Twice.” You giggle, nudging your head toward your desk which is literally in chaos—papers scattered everywhere, books falling to the floor, pens unaligned.

Mark follows your gaze and gapes harder. “Shit, yeah, on that desk—I remember—wait, but how?! Why—” He looks like he’s physically hurting trying to remember every detail, and probably that’s his hangover talking.

“Want some aspirin?”

He pouts rather cutely. “Yes, please.” When you step down from the bed, leaving your blanket behind, Mark blushes and immediately turns his face away, unconsciously letting out a girly yelp as he does so.

“Umm, babe?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re naked.”

You stifle down a laugh. “Yes, I noticed. And so are you.”

Mark covers his bottom half with a pillow, face flushed. “C-can you put some clothes on?”

You were planning to, but seeing him react like this makes you re-think your decision. “Mark, we literally had sex twice yesterday.”

“I know, don’t say it!” He hides his face behind his palm. “It’s still embarrassing for me.”

“You certainly weren’t embarrassed last night,” you tease, “You even asked whether you could eat me out—”

“GAH!” He has both hands covering his ears, turning his entire body around to hide his face but the way his ears are going red is contradicting his action.

“Mark, look at me.”

“No way in hell!”

Smirking to yourself, you slowly walk to his spot, not covering even an inch of yourself. When you call him again, softer this time, Mark makes a mistake and throws you a glance. He’s no longer able to take his gaze off you after that.

You spread your legs, sitting on the pillow he has on his lap and wrapping both legs around his waist. Pressing your chest to his, you lean close to his ear. “Wanna go for another round?”

Mark gulps.

***

#mark lee #lee mark #nct #nct dream #nct scenarios #mark lee smut #nct smut #nct imagines #mark lee scenarios #mark lee imagines #fluff #mark lee fluff #mark nct #mark superm #super m #nct 127 #mark lee x reader #reader x mark lee #mark x reader #mark nct x reader #mark lee x you #mark nct x you #nct edit #nct fanfics #nct fanfic #mark lee fanfic #mark lee fanfics #mine #sundaysundaes

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Ch. 22: Petrichor and Bibliosmia (Library/books)

AO3

Prev

Marinette frowned at the rain outside of her window. She had wanted to go to the botanical gardens with Harley and Ivy today. But with the rain, both women decided it would be better to just reschedule. They didn’t want her to get sick. Which, to be fair, was sweet. But still upsetting because she really wanted to go to the gardens. She’d planned on using the plants as inspiration to make something for Ivy.

“Tikki, I’m bored.” She says, looking at her smallest friend. Tikki just looks at her.

“You’ve been stuck inside because of the weather before, Marinette. Why don’t you design?” Tikki suggests. Marinette huffs, flopping back down onto the cushioned window seat.

“But there’s nothing inspiring in my room, Tikki.” She mumbles, before shooting back up. “Do you think any of the boys are here?” She asks.

“Only one way to find out!” Tikki says with a smile, obviously relieved to have avoided any more whining from Marinette. She jumps up, throwing one of Dick’s old hoodies on over her t-shirt. She’d always gotten cold easily, and becoming the holder of the Ladybug Miraculous didn’t help. That, and the manor was cold on a good day- it would probably be freezing with how bad the weather was. She slides down the banister, knowing her Dad was at work and couldn’t yell at her.

“Miss Marinette, if you insist on behaving like your brothers, I will have to resort to treating you like your brothers.” Alfred says with raised eyebrows. But she can sense the smile wanting to break through. She just grins apologetically.

“Sorry, Alfred.” She says. “Speaking of my brothers, are any of them here right now?” She asks. If they’re not, she could probably convince Alfred to bake something with her. As long as she promises not to slide down the banister again.

“I believe Master Jason is in the library. Masters Dick and Damian are in the gym and Master Tim is at Wayne Enterprises with your father.” He says and she hums, thinking. She could go do some training with Dick and Damian, or she could go sit and sketch in the library with Jason.

“Thanks Alfred!” She says, giving him a wide smile before turning and walking down one of the many halls. She glances in open doors as she walks. Despite having lived here for nearly a month, she still got lost going anywhere other than her room, the dining room, the kitchen, and the Batcave. They were kind of the places she’d gone the most. She could also easily find her dad’s study and the main sitting room, most of the time. But the library wasn’t really a place she’d spent a lot of time in. And while she loved Dick and Damian, she also knew that they hadn’t gotten time to hang out just the two of them in a while. She’d talked to Dick before, about how when their dad was missing, he was basically Damian’s father. She knew that bonds like that didn’t just go away, knew that neither boy wanted it to. So she figured she’d just annoy Jay instead of barging in on the others’ bonding time.

Finally finding the library, she grins. Pushing the cracked door open a little more, she moves into the room, jaw dropping. The floor to ceiling bookshelves were packed. There were huge overstuffed couches, and the large windows had window seats attached- perfect little reading nooks. Quickly making a mental note to come to the library more, she starts to search for Jay. She knew he had to be in here. Alfred is never wrong. She grins when she spots him, sitting in what looked like an insanely uncomfortable position, but one she knew from experience was the best.

“Whatchya reading?” She asks, walking over and getting comfortable on the couch next to him.

“<i>Pride and Prejudice<i>.” He says, continuing reading for a moment before putting a little scrap of paper in the book and shutting it. “What’s up, Pixie Pop?” He asks, looking at her with a grin. Marinette sighs dramatically and moves so that she’s upside down on the couch.

“It’s raining. And I was supposed to go to the gardens with Ivy and Harley but they canceled because of my ‘health’ and they were ‘concerned’.” She says with a pout.

“And you decided the library was the best place to curb your boredom? No offense kid, but you don’t seem like the type to read.” He says and she huffs.

“I like books! It’s just-” She pauses, remembering the way Lila had teased her for it back in Paris. Her classmates hadn’t joined in, not really. They’d just agreed that she was a little odd.

“You okay, Pix?” Jason asks, his earlier grin replaced with a slightly concerned look. Marinette winces and nods.

“Yeah it’s- I can read. I swear I can. But when I’m looking at a book, or an article or anything with a lot of text, it gets hard to pick out the pieces. Things just kind of swirl together and then I can’t decode it and I get frustrated and just stop reading. It sucks, ‘cause I do like books. I listen to audiobooks while doing commissions.” She rambles, stopping and turning red. Though that may be from hanging upside down on the couch. Sighing, she sits up and shrugs. “Sorry I’m so weird.” She says. Jason’s face morphs into a scowl.

“Just ‘cause you learn differently doesn’t mean you’re weird, kid. Just means you’ve got your own style. Don’t let any of those little shits you go to school with tell you differently.” He says, reaching out and ruffling her hair. She smiles at him, a genuine happy smile. She was so relieved that he didn’t think she was weird. Or stupid. Lila had thrown that word around. That one hurt. Marinette prided herself on her quick thinking and cleverness. And her grades. They were some of the best in the class! So for Lila to call her stupid…

“Pixie.” Jason says, drawing the nickname out in a sing-song voice. She looks at him and raises an eyebrow. “You were zoned out, kid. So, was there something ya wanna do?” He asks. Marinette glances down at the book in his hand and frowns.

“I don’t wanna keep you from reading. I can just sit in here with you. I’ll probably end up grabbing my sketchbook.” She says. Jason waves in a ‘no big deal’ motion.

“I’ve read this book a million times.” He reassures her. She glances at the cover again, realizing it’s not one she’s really heard much about before.

“What’s it about?” She asks. “I’ve never read it.” Jay’s face morphs into a huge grin.

“You said you like listening to books, right?” He asks. She nods. “Well, then settle in because I’m going to read to you.” He says proudly with a grin.

“Oh, you really don’t-” She tries to say. She didn’t want to make him read to her. That was not-

“Oh but I want to.” He says, effectively cutting off her mental ramble before she can complete her meltdown. “Listen Pix, this is one of my favorite books. If you go listen to some dumb audio book, you won’t get my commentary. Trust me, this is the best way for you to read the book.” He says and she snorts, shaking her head lightly.

“Okay, Jay, let’s read a book.”

---

Finally arriving home after being stuck at the office, Bruce sets off to find his daughter. Since his apology a few days ago, he’d attempted to make an effort to check in on her and see how she was doing. He tried to also do the same with the boys, but they had all given him odd looks, so he didn’t continue. He checks her room, the Batcave, the sitting room- nothing. He finally decides to check the kitchen. If he had to guess, she’d be there baking with Alfred. He walks in and sees Alfred, but no Marinette.

“Good evening, Alfred. Have you seen Marinette?” Bruce asks, silently hoping she hadn’t left the planet again.

“I believe she’s in the library with Master Jason.” Alfred says and Bruce blinks in surprise. He’d never seen her read a book before, while Jason always had a book on him. He supposed it could be a hobby of hers that he just hasn’t noticed. Or, she could have just followed Jason. Which seems more likely. The two of them were all but attached at the hip ever since the Gala. It was surprising, but at the same time welcoming. Thanking Alfred quickly, he walks towards the library. He’d just say hi and leave. No need to make them stop reading if they were having fun. Gently pushing open the library door he walks in and pauses at the sight. Marinette had wrapped herself in a blanket and was almost sitting on the edge of the couch, leaning forward with an intense look of concentration on her face. Jason had his legs swung over the arm of the couch and was reading out loud. Immediately recognizing the book as Jason’s favorite, Bruce slowly leaves the library, careful not to let the door slam. He’d have the chance to talk to Marinette later, but for now, he’d let the two continue reading in peace.

Next

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[starrconch]

Congrats on the milestone!🎉🎉 Can I request b, i and w for childe, please?

FLUFF ALPHABET

★ Includes: Childe / Tartaglia, GN reader, letters B, I and W from my event

★ Word Count: 1680

★ Master List

★ 300 Followers Event

★ Notes: Thank you! I was hoping someone would request W for Childe because I have the perfect headcannon >:)

CHILDE / TARTAGLIA

✦ B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

★ If you asked him outright what he admired about you, it would take him a split second to reply with ‘everything’.

★ Though if he gave it more thought, he would lean towards the more cliche things: the enchanting colour of your eyes, the way your smile made him feel.

★ Your partner also adored the passion you had for your hobbies. The way you would talk about them with so much joy made him remember why exactly he fell for you in the first place.

Childe had a long day full of work, meaning he came home very late at night. Sneaking into your home in hopes to not wake you up, thinking you would be asleep, he peered in the bedroom to see you sitting up with the covers wrapped around your shoulders.

Sitting next to you, he took your hands in his own. “You’re up pretty late. Did you have a nightmare?” His thumb rubbed circles on your palm, his eyes searching yours.

“Childe, what do you like about me?” You couldn’t help your voice breaking a little from the tears you were holding back.

Catching onto this, your partner quickly hugged you in his arms, squeezing you tight. “What don’t I like about you? You’re perfect in every way.” He placed a gentle kiss on your lips, making sure you were paying attention to him instead of sinking back into your thoughts.

“Your flaws.” Kiss. “Your appearance.” Kiss. “The way you annoyingly hog the blanket when you sleep.” Kiss. “I love all of it.”

You leant into him, resting your head on his shoulder, still resisting the urge to cry.

“Where did this train of thought come from?” He smiled sympathetically, concern filling his eyes. How long had you been feeling this way? He felt awful for not noticing it sooner.

You shrugged. “There are several better people out there for you who are so much better than I am. I-"

“No.” He lifted your face and pulled you in for a long, breathless kiss. “There is no one in Teyvat who is as perfect for me as you are.”

As he laid you down and tucked you in, holding you tight as you drifted to sleep, you started to believe his words.

✦ I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

★ You didn’t really change him too much, he was still a harbinger who loved his work and his family. But you helped him revert back to his past self who realised how much he missed spending all of his time with the people he loved.

★ Before he became a harbinger and he was just a mere fatui lackey, he spent the majority of his time with his siblings and helping out around the house.

★ Now that you were a part of his family, he wanted his old ways of living back so he could spend his time with you, treasuring every moment you had together.

When you returned home from work and had gotten inside your home, you noticed something felt off. There was another jacket hung up on the coat stand and an extra pair of shoes sitting on the doormat when there wasn’t usually.

“Childe?” You called out into your home in confusion. He wasn’t normally back this early as it was only just after lunchtime and your partner was always swamped with work. What was going on?

You were met with your lover running towards you and encasing you in his arms. “You aren’t supposed to be home yet,” he murmured into your ear, his arms stretching out behind you.

All you could do was chuckle. “Me? I’m not supposed to be here at this hour? This is the time I usually finish my shift, you’re the one who’s acting out of the-“ before you could continue, the door opened behind you and Childe gently pushed you out.

“Come back in a short while,” he smiled as though nothing was wrong, “then I’ll let you back inside.”

As the door shut in your face, your jaw hung ajar in shock. What in the archons was going on? Did he just kick you out of your own home?

You waited outside of the door with your arms crossed, and, thankfully, only a quarter of an hour had passed before he let you back in.

“What’s going on?” You were starting to get worried. Had he done something?

“I’m sorry.” He rubbed a hand behind his neck sheepishly. “I didn’t want you to spoil the surprise before it was even ready.” Offering his hand for you to take, you cautiously accepted it, letting him lead you into your dining room.

On the table was a grand meal set up for the two of you, the food steaming having just come out of the oven. The napkins in front of the plates were crimson and folded neatly to look like small hearts, and a candle sat in the centre so the lights around you could be dimmed.

“I wanted to do something nice for you and make this a special occasion seeing as I feel like I owe you that.” Coming up behind you he wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder. “Do you like it?”

A smirk appeared on your lips, disguising the heart that fluttered at an erratic rate in your chest. “Well, presentation wise it’s amazing, but I haven’t gotten to try the food yet.”

He walked over to your chair and held it out for you to sit down so he could tuck you in. “Before we eat...” Childe handed you an envelope sealed with a wax stamp.

He watched nervously as you opened it, his eyes roaming over the boat tickets that you held.

“To Snezhnaya?” You questioned, astonishment taking over you at the realisation you made.

“I’d like you to meet my family!”

✦ W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

★ Despite his lack of free time, your partner was actually quite an impressive cook, picking up the skill from taking care of his siblings every now and again.

★ He thought of the kitchen as his battle ground and of the dish he was making as his fight. Anyone who joined him with the cooking would suffer to his wrath as he challenged them to see who could make the best food.

You were visiting his home in Snezhnaya for the first time and it already felt like you had been there for years, having settled in straight away. When you had first seen it, you were overcome with shock with how grand it was. Of course you were expecting something extravagant as the money Childe earned was on an insane level, but you didn’t expect it to look so warm, so homely.

Tonia, Teucer and Anthon were also just as lovely as you had imagined. They had sent letters to you for quite some time so you knew them quite well, it was nice to meet them in person for once.

“Hey.” you looked up at your partner from where you were laid on his chest. “Do you want to bake something, maybe like some cookies?”

He flashed you an evil smirk and Teucer gasped in shock, “no! Now he’s going to get all competitive!”

“Oh really?” You raised your brows, waiting for Childe’s response.

“I would love to, only if we can see who can make the best ones. But be warned, I do have the advantage seeing as this is my kitchen. I will be brutal.”

Returning his grin, you stood and made your way over to the cupboards to get a head start on gathering ingredients. “Challenge accepted.”

★ You decided to make some generic chocolate-chip cookies to be on the safe side as they were something you weren’t likely to mess up, if you didn’t burn them, that was.

★ Your partner’s siblings (who were also the awaiting judges) stood in the doorway watching with awe as the two of you prepared and baked, observing the chaos unfolding.

As your cookies were baking, you eyed Childe who was working on decorations for his blue-coloured biscuits. He was putting in a lot of effort into this, so much that you were slightly worried over the victory you thought you had secured.

Reaching into the bag of flour that was lying out, you grabbed a handful of it and threw it at the back of his head. If you couldn’t win from skill, you’d just have to distract him until the time was up.

He turned around slowly, pausing what he was doing with a murderous expression. “So this is how you want to play? May I suggest that you take cover before we start this war?” His hand snatched the flour away from you, aiming it so it was going to pour its whole contents over your head.

You cried out, dashing out of the kitchen past his siblings and hiding behind them. They laughed, trying to move out of the way, but you wouldn’t let them.

Childe scoffed. “If you don’t come and face me with courage, your cookies are going to burn.”

★ You faced him eventually, but he was too absorbed in his icing to even notice you had snuck back in.

★ You presented your cookies neatly arranged in a circle on a plate which appeared to be very inferior in comparison to your partner’s. His were not only blue in colour, but he had iced them so that they looked like small seashells, a white-chocolate star in the centre.

★ The judging began and while Childe clearly won for presentation, yours won for the taste.

He pulled you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head and then leaning down to your ear. “Next time, there will be no victory for you.” From his tone, you couldn’t tell if it was a playful taunt, or a serious threat.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x you #childe #genshin childe #childe x reader #childe x you #tartaglia #genshin tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x you #starrconch #300 followers event #genshin headcannons #genshin scenarios #fluff alphabet

[britishassistant]

Oooo oh! The post you just made is so interesting! Can you do a version with how things go down in the supervillain universe? Like all the dorm heads call Yuu Prefect and Yuu freaks out internally as to how these younger version of the supervillains know their secret?

@ectopus said: ok now i wanna know more on whats happening with older Yuu with the dorm leaders from twisted wonderland

Anonymous said: Finding out your crush is also your enemy sometimes ally is amazing funny! Reporter Yuu gots their hands full with these teenagers and twenty-year-old.

Yuu the Reporter isn’t exactly happy to hear frantic banging on their apartment door late at night. Unsurprised, but not happy.

“I know I told you all I have the 6AM shift tomorrow.” They grouse loudly as they go to open it. “So I don’t care what amazing scheme it is you want to kidnap me for, it is not my pro—”

They stop short when they see what looks like younger versions of Tsunotaro, Charon, and...is that Viper-san? The aide to Kalim Al-Asim?

The trio are huddled together miserably on their doorstep, all dressed in similar school uniforms. Tsunotaro and Charon have a blazer and a hoodie held over their heads, as if that will in any way disguise them.

“This just became my problem, didn’t it.” The reporter says glumly to the three...teenagers? They look like teenagers, Great Seven they’re so lanky and baby-faced, it’s making Yuu feel old.

Teenage Charon lets out a squeak, the edges of his hair flaring hot pink under his hoodie. Teenage Tsunotaro is just staring at them, wide-eyed and mute. Teen Viper-san swallows and says “You think?” in what is probably supposed to be a sardonic manner, but the effect is kinda ruined by his voice cracking halfway through.

It says a lot about Yuu’s life that they just open the door wider and stand aside to let the teenagers shuffle in with only a weary, “Age ray or alternate selves?”

Of course, it can never just be two or three afflicted with the supervillains.

Malleus, Idia, and Jamil are in the middle of explaining how they each came to in different lairs, running into each other on their way to the only recognizable name in the lair’s databases and running away from the screaming townsfolk in Malleus and Idia’s cases, when there’s another violent pounding at the door.

The reporter has to get Jamil to put his...magic wand? thing away before they can go see who it is. Yuu’s not sure how much damage that thing can do, but they’d rather their apartment not get turned into the scene of a brawl again, please and thank you.

The teenager insists on hovering though, as though Yuu is not a grown ass adult who can open doors on their own and not shatter like glass. He promptly gets bowled over by the three other uniformed teenagers and young adult (?) that burst in the moment the handle turns.

The younger King slams the door shut behind them, tail lashing up a storm and ears nearly flat on his head, a growl still rumbling in his chest. The teenage Octo Dealer’s glasses have been snapped clean in half. Yuu still doesn’t get why younger versions of Dr. Rosehearts and Schoenheit-san are with them, but the pair of civilians look understandably shaken.

They are all covered in glitter.

The reporter recognizes that look well. “A RSA hero found you, didn’t they?”

Schoenheit-san sneezes on glitter as he scoffs, “Hero? An overgrown manchild courting indecent exposure and awful fashion sense is more like it!”

White Neige it is then.

The reporter goes to get the first aid kit and lint roller to begin patching up the high schoolers like they’ve done countless times for the minions and supervillains before them.

So Yuu’s little apartment is now filled with high schoolers. High schoolers who are having some trouble absorbing the fact that they’re in a world where four of them are highly feared supervillains, and three of them are hapless civilians. All of them seem to be united in glaring at Grim when he strolls out of the reporter’s bedroom and asks how they all got so small.

By now, Yuu’s phone has begun blowing up with messages from the Game Night group and the other minions asking where their bosses are.

The reporter texts back that they have no idea where Snake Charmer, Poison Queen, or Royal Flush are, but they do snap a picture to send in a group message of the teenage boys who are currently bickering over who gets to sit on the couch versus the floor, and whether Leona lying down on it and taking up the whole thing is “fair” to everyone else.

Uproar in the chat.

Lilia is squeeing over how small and cute Malleus is, lookit him in his little fancy school uniform!! Sebek is both joining in with this praise, and terrified about how they can turn the young master back to his old self! Silver is asleep because he has that luxury, the lucky bastard.

Ruggie is disappointed that his boss doesn’t have anything embarrassing that could potentially serve as blackmail material to get himself a pay raise. Jack wants to arm wrestle young Leona if he’s still there tomorrow and see who would win.

Floyd and Jade want to come over to pick on Azul! Yuu says no! They say they’re coming anyway!!

Ortho is coming too!! His nii-san is now younger and needs him and there’s nothing Yuu can do about it!!

Lilia heavily implies that they all can wait until tomorrow or else.

Suddenly Yuu is no longer anticipating any more house guests tonight. Yay?

Waterboy’s weirdly excited at the picture of Jamil, and Huntsman keeps rhapsodizing about Vil’s youthful beauty, but they’re both a little odd so the reporter purposely thinks nothing of it.

Just like they think nothing of Trey’s oddly monosyllabic mother-henning over the young Riddle. He’s much smaller than the other boys—he probably just set of Trey’s big brother instincts is all. And if the rest of the Heartslaybul minions have gone strangely quiet too? They’re likely just busy searching for Royal Flush. Nothing to read into here, no sir.

Yuuken tells Yuu to call if they need any extra food or blankets for their guests or anything. He’ll try to convince their boss’s boss that Yuu’s taken ill tomorrow. For a moment, all seems right with the world.

Then Azul calls for the “prefect” to come settle the couch argument.

Yuu promptly drops the cup they were about to pour lemon tea into.

They wave off Malleus and Riddle’s concern, Azul’s apologies, and Jamil’s attempts to clear up the shards up for them, saying they were just...startled at being addressed like that.

The reporter explains that, while the students’ version of Yuu might be known as a prefect back at their school, here The Prefect is the name of a...controversial vigilante. One who foils the villainous schemes of the top seven supervillains in the city, and usually takes quite the beating while doing so. The supervillains’ ire even extends to their friend and cameraman, Yuuken, who’s only suspected of being the Prefect.

Yuu likes being on good enough terms with the supervillains that they know even if they get kidnapped, they won’t get seriously hurt. If they or any of their minions were to be given reason, however flimsy, to believe the reporter was The Prefect...

Well. Yuu doesn’t like to think about what would happen then.

The high schoolers keep shooting Yuu looks that suggest they don’t buy this flimsy explanation, but they let the subject drop mercifully, turning back to serving tea and dividing up who will be sleeping where.

Another argument erupts when the reporter offers to sleep on the floor so one or two of them can share their bed. Leona and Malleus come close to almost burning the apartment down before Yuu takes a page out of Uncle Divvy’s book and breaks out the rolled up newspaper to restore order.

Later that night, after it’s all settled and the students are all fast asleep, Yuu the Reporter has a panic attack in the privacy of their bathroom.

They don’t know how much longer they can keep this up.

#ask #ectopus #neko2413 #twisted wonderland #twst #supervillain au #malleus draconia #idia shroud #jamil viper #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #riddle rosehearts #vil schoenheit #twisted wonderland yuu #twst yuu #twst malleus #twst idia #twst jamil #twst leona #twst azul #twst riddle #twst vil

[jinmukangwrites]

Whumptober 2021 - October 3 - "Who did this to you?"

Fandoms: Linked Universe

Ao3

Warnings: major injury, attempted murder, blood, near-death experiences

---

Trouble comes with a smiling face; not that Wild knows that yet. All he sees is an eager young woman with kind eyes and a humble dress, offering to show him where he can get some wine to cook with tonight.

He and the rest of the heroes have been on the road for quite a while now, without a single town in sight. Nothing but various barns to cross their path. This is the first actual town they’ve seen in miles, even though it’s not a very big one. Yet, there is a small inn for weary travelers, and a marketplace near the front entrance of the town where farmers can sell their goods and towns-folk and gossip. The whole group of them are rather low on funds, but the market seemed like the perfect excuse to relax. Spend some money that they just barely have. Pretend to be normal people for just a few hours.

Just until sunset.

It was Wild, Twilight, Warriors, and Hyrule out in the market while the others were making deals with the innkeepers to get cheaper rooms and more beds. Wild wasn’t really sure what the others were wanting to find out in the market today, but Wild was on the hunt for quality ingredients for quality food that he couldn’t make while on the road. He planned on making a meal tonight fit enough for Zelda herself, and he needed wine to do it. Not to drink, of course not, but to soak into fine slices of meat to add extra flavoring. Nothing strong enough to get a man tipsy—and if he ends up with extra wine, he’ll put it in a flask and gift it to the Old Man. Hylia knows he deserves it.

But he couldn’t find anything even remotely related to wine in these small markets. Some stalls sell alcoholic jars of milk, but Wild honestly has never even heard of milk that could be alcoholic, let alone ever cooked with it. By the time the sun was starting to caress the horizon, frustration was bubbling in his belly because of this and all he could think about were those berries he saw on a tree a few days ago that looked perfect for making some of his own wine out of.

Twilight and Warriors were looking at a jewel-smith's stall, admiring the finely crafted trinkets and murmuring to themselves about the ones that would match her eyes, or impress that gentleman at the tavern, and Wild soon lost interest in both the stall and his love-sick companions. He had stood several feet off, leaning against a brick wall, eyeing the closest stalls to him and hoping for even a small sight of anything close to wine set up for sale.

And then he saw her. Trouble, despite him not knowing it. He didn’t even suspect it. Perhaps he’s gotten too used to the threats of other worlds, that he forgot the threats of his own.

She walked up to him, a swish to her brown dress that seemed to almost have a pink tint. Her hair was brown, done up in messy braids and a bun above her head. Wild assumed she was the daughter of a farmer who was selling crops from their farm, so he didn’t assess her too critically. Before he knew it, she was stopped a few feet from him, swaying her dress side to side between her thin fingers.

“Is there something you’re looking for, travelers?” she asked, her voice sweet like sugared honey. Beside him, Hyrule blushed a bit at the ears.

Wild wasn’t much in a good mood at the moment, but he decided that asking for help might be his only option at this point. “I’m looking for wine, or any kind of beverage like it made out of berries?”

The girl hummed, pressing her finger to her chin in thought. “The most popular beverage ‘round here is milk…” she said, and Wild’s shoulders slumped. But then she continued. “Though, I know a liquor shop further in town where they sell all kinds of drinks. I’ll show you the way, but it closes really soon.”

Hope surged in Wild’s chest. Perhaps he would be able to make a fancy meal tonight after all! Feeling in lighter spirits than he had all night, he told Hyrule to inform Twilight and Warriors that he would be going to the liquor shop. Wild barely noticed the slight hesitation on Hyrule’s face before he turned and did as he was asked. Wild should have noticed it. He should have thought more about how eager and smooth talking the girl was, should have been more in tune with his companion’s concerns, but he followed her out of the market anyway.

And now he’s here, laying on the ground in a pool of his own blood thanks to a hole in his stomach. The “liquor store” was nothing more than an abandoned shop several blocks away from the market, but he only found that out when he walked inside and saw the hastily put together lanterns to give the illusion of life, each one placed among dust and cobwebs. Before he could even turn back and question what was going on, the girl was sliding her arm around his side and heartlessly impaling him with a familiarly curved, sickle-like blade.

Her laugh was also familiar as his knees gave out and he crumpled to the floor, wheezing. Though not familiar in a way that he knew her name; he knew her kind.

“Wh-” he gasps, using one hand to clutch at the floor blanketed in bloody dust, and the other to press onto the wound in his stomach like he’s trying to keep everything in. “What-”

“You’re probably wondering why I’m here, hero,” the girl… Yiga chuckles, stepping over his crumpled body to squat by his head. “To tell the truth, I’m not sure either. I fell into a portal… and found myself in a whole new world. And I saw you, and your friends. I can’t tell you how long I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment to take you down. This is for Master Kohga-” Wild’s too weak to fight her off as she reaches for his body, searching his pockets and taking the only healing potions that he had. “-and for Calamity Ganon. I don’t care what happens to me now, as long as you die painfully and slowly, right here.”

Then, she stands up, takes his potions, and leaves, shutting the door behind her as she laughs into the night.

Stupid. Wild is so stupid. How did he not guess something like this would happen? Did he truly let his guard down so badly that he forgot to always be on the lookout for Yiga soldiers? Has he become so comfortable traveling between worlds that didn’t have rogue Sheikah that it didn’t matter for him to worry about them as much?

He’s going to bleed out and die here, all because he wanted some wine to cook with in a town that only sold fucking milk and he couldn’t bother to make sure the person he was following was actually someone with good intentions. He can already feel his vision swirling, and his entire body feels pathetically weak and cold. The pain is unbearable, bringing tears to his eyes.

He coughs up blood, and does his best to prepare himself for a failure’s death, as he’s too weak to even call for help; let alone try and save himself.

Stupid…

His vision swirls white, and then fades black, and he knows nothing more.

-o-o-o-o-

“Something’s wrong,” Twilight says, several minutes after Hyrule told him and Warriors that Wild had gone off with some farmer girl to find a liquor store.

“Something is wrong,” Twilight repeats when they ask a local villager for directions to the nearest liquor store, and they reply the only alcohol this town sells is the milk in the market.

Hyrule is quick to point out the direction he remembers seeing Wild and the girl go off in, and then they thankfully split up to cover more ground. The second there’s no one to see, Twilight changes into his wolf form, sniffing the air desperately for his kid. Wild’s scent is one that he will always remember, it’s stored and locked within his brain, right next to Mipha, Zelda, and all the kids at Ordon.

He finds Wild’s trail after a nerve wracking few moments, and then he’s dashing through dimly lit streets like his life depends on it.

The feeling of something being horribly wrong only gets stronger when he finds Wild’s scent leading inside a run down looking building with dim, flickering lanterns in the windows. Then, the reek of blood hits his nostrils at full force. He shifts back into his human form and bursts into the front door without a single care on what’s on the other side.

The stench of blood is stronger here, even for his human nose. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that his eyes drop to the floor along with what feels like a stone in his stomach. Wild is at his feet, curled up like a child, red pooling around his terribly pale body.

“No-” Twilight drops down to his knees, already pulling out his spare red potion and gathering Wild into his arms. Wild makes a strangled groan through his throat, but his eyes are squeezed closed.

He’s alive though. The thought that he’s still alive is the only thing that gives Twilight enough strength to pull out the cork of his jar and shove the opening to Wild’s lips.

Wild chokes as the liquid enters his mouth, but Twilight doesn’t let up. It’s preferable to drink red potions, but when it comes to drastic situations like this, just getting it in the injured person's body is enough to save their lives. Wild coughs through the liquid and writhes in Twilight's arms, and it’s all Twilight can do to keep the bottle there and shakily whisper every comforting word that he knows. Eventually, color returns to Wild’s cheeks, and his eyes blink open blearily as his choking turns into instinctive swallows.

When the contents of the bottle is gone, Twilight lets the glass jar fall to the floor as he now uses his newly freed hand to check Wild’s wound.

It’s still nasty, and deep, but no longer life threatening. Another potion or some stitches and Wild will be as good as new. For the first time in what feels like years, Twilight allows himself to breath out a sigh of intense relief.

“Twi…?” Wild asks, voice incredibly small.

Twilight holds him just a little tighter, willing his heart to calm down. He’s almost… he’s come so close to almost losing-

“Who did this to you?” Twilight demands with a bite to his tone that he doesn’t mean to direct at Wild.

Wild doesn’t react to it though. He just closes his eyes and shakes his head. “It… doesn’t matter…” he replies in a whisper. Twilight feels anger swell in his stomach and he almost argues back, but Wild talks more despite how much it must still hurt. “Later,” he says. “’M hurt, wanna sleep. Deal with… it later.”

Twilight takes a deep breath, counts to five, then lets it out. He doesn’t feel any less upset. However, he keeps his voice level, deciding that arguing with Wild here will just upset the boy more than help him.

“Okay,” he agrees reluctantly. “I’m going to carry you, okay? I’m out of potions, but Wars or Hyrule should be nearby with some of their own. Then we can go get a well deserved sleep.”

Wild simply nods and relaxes into Twilight’s arms, breathing a sigh and closing his eyes. Twilight bites his lip, then resolves himself to hold one of his dearest friends close to his chest as he stands up. There’s blood everywhere, staining his hands, his tunic, his boots, his pants. But he got here in time. Wild will be okay.

That’s all that matters now. Once Wild has all his color back and his stomach no longer has a hole in it… then Twilight can make sure whoever did this regrets being born.

“I got you, kid,” he says, “I got you.”

#linked universe #wild linked universe #twilight linked universe #whumptober2021 #no.3 #who did this to you? #blood tw #injury tw #violence tw #fanfiction #jin writes

[knivesareout]

My Best Decision

Pairing: Javier Peña x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Smut (18!!!+), Oral sex (fem receiving), Unprotected sex, Filth, Possible typos and bad usage of commas.

A/N: I have a whole ass universe to these two tucked away somewhere in my mind and this scene felt like it needed to be written so here we are. I haven’t written anything substantial in years so pls be nice to me, thanks. You can also read it on AO3 here. Big thanks to @dirty-holy-things​ for being a general gem of a friend and proofreading this for me. Hope y’all enjoy!!!

Summary: Time to yourselves is something hard to come by for you and Javi. When his dad offers to take your little one for the night, you have a few things in mind on what you can fill the quiet with.

Texas was a different kind of hot, you quickly came to realize. Colombia had been sticky and humid, the feeling of your clothes sticking to your skin the absolute worst. Texas came with a dry heat compared to Colombia and it was a change that was welcome in your book.

It’d been about two years now in Laredo and it always made you wonder when you’d stop comparing the two places. It’s not like you lived in Colombia all that long, anyway; just the time it took to complete your Master’s Degree and a few months after, staying behind with Javier until his assignment with the DEA was over. Javi had warned you of all the different things moving to Texas entailed when the decision had been made, even offering up a few other options- like Miami, where Steve had tried to entice the two of you to join him and Connie and their kids. But, Texas had felt right for some reason. Being close to Javier’s father and having that sense of family was something you craved and so, Laredo became home.

Once you had your first child, it just cemented that moving to Texas had been the right decision. Javi had been a mess in the delivery room, pacing constantly and offering to get you anything every 10 seconds. It would’ve been funnier if you weren’t in pain and almost screaming at him to fuck off. Your daughter was born screaming and crying into the world, Javi’s tears unstoppable as he cut the cord and passed her over to you, the gentle grip on her so tender and careful. 

The sight of Chucho crying when he’d met your little girl at the hospital, whispering to her how spoiled she was going to be by her abuelo, was something you’d never forget and with Javi rolling his eyes behind his father’s back, you knew he was going to be just as bad as his father, if not worse, and he was. Tiny little Emilia Anaís Peña had the two men wrapped around her finger the second she yawned, her fists popping out of the blanket she was wrapped in, in search of a finger to hold on to. 

Now, at just six months, your little girl was a handful and that was putting it lightly. She was crawling everywhere and yanking on anything she could get her hands on, and that included yours and Javi’s hair. A moment of peace was hard to come by, her cries loud and piercing if no one was paying attention to her. Javier was always the first one to give into her pleas, placating her wails with quiet songs sung under his breath and a soothing hand across her back. She was a daddy’s girl and you couldn’t even find it in you to be upset about it, the sight always putting an instant smile on your face. 

It was crazy to think there was a time where you believed something like this wasn’t possible- the family, the house together, and anything really beyond a late night hook-up with Javier. Yet, here you were, and Emilia was the perfect blend of you two as you caught her dark eyes slowly drifting close on Javier’s shoulder. 

“Javi?” You ask, shuffling the bills that cluttered your kitchen table into a neat pile and setting them aside to go through after dinner.

“Yeah baby?” He slowly turns to glance at you, his hand spanning across your daughter’s back as he holds her to his chest. You could already see the drool mark on his salmon colored shirt and smile softly to yourself. It was still early, and any sleep she got was a blessing. 3am wake up calls were getting tiring and Javi was taking the brunt of them, letting you sleep.

“I was thinking,” you start, walking towards him to brush a fallen strand of hair across Emilia’s forehead as she breathes in slowly. “Maybe Chucho could take Emilia tonight? He called earlier and mentioned I sounded tired, asked if we needed a break. I thought it would be nice to have a night to ourselves. Maybe actually catch up on sleep, watch a movie.”

You would’ve been offended at Javier’s father calling you out, a quiet chuckle escaping you when he brought it up, but you knew he was right. Sleep was a myth at this point and it was only made worse now as Emilia was slowly starting to get her teeth in. You told him you’d let him know what Javier thought by lunch time, giving him a quiet thank you before you’d hung up. 

The look on Javi’s face was one you knew well. It was his thinking face. Brows furrowed in thought, lips pursed. He was silently going over the pros and cons of being away from your daughter for the first time, his lips pursed. “It’s gonna have to happen at some point, right? I guess that’s fine,” he finally acquiesces, hiking Emilia higher up on his chest while she snoozes. “Call my dad and let him know we’ll be over in an hour. I’ve got a few things I need to finish up.” With a kiss to your forehead, he turns out of the kitchen and whispers quietly to Emilia that her ‘daddy was going to miss her so much’.

You nod mostly to yourself as he leaves, watching as he heads through the house to no doubt hole himself up in the office with Emilia on his chest while he read over papers he needed to grade. There wasn’t a task he did day-to-day where he didn’t try to have Emilia with him. He’d take her to class with him if you didn’t physically remove her from his side in the mornings. Watching Javier hand her over to Chucho would be interesting and you smirk as you walk back to the kitchen to call your father-in-law, a little pep to your step as you thought about all the things you could do in the next 24 hours.

__

The handoff had been hilarious, your giggles quiet behind your hand as you watched your daughter reach for her grandfather with a giant smile on her face and paying no mind to Javi’s scowl. Emilia was just as smitten with her abuelo as she was with her father and she wasn’t nearly as torn up about the goodbye as Javier was. She’d giggled and waved bye with the help of Chucho as you’d left and it almost looked like Javier wanted to cry. He’d huffed once you were back in his truck and remained quiet on the short drive back to your house, your hand reaching for his in a comforting squeeze. 

The house seemed strange, feeling almost empty, without Emilia’s presence despite her toys being scattered throughout the living room. Some part of you felt guilty at your excitement to finally have a night without your daughter but, it was needed and you’d be damned if you didn’t try to make the most of it. Locking the door behind you once Javier was sitting on the couch, you kicked your shoes off and sat down to curl yourself into his side, his arm wrapping around you tight.

“Are you gonna mope around until we pick her up tomorrow?” You tease him, reaching up to tilt Javier’s gaze towards your own.

A slow smile breaks across his features and he shakes his head, looking guilty. “No. I’m sorry,” he sighs, taking your hand from his chin to lace your fingers together. “It’s just weird and I know it’s something that we’ll have to do but I just. Miss her.” 

“I know, Javi,” you nod, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Why don’t we take a nap and then I’ll make us lunch and we can just bask in the quietness for a little bit, hm?”

“Yeah, that sounds,” he yawns, making you chuckle. “Good. Yeah, a nap sounds good.”

As you push yourself up off the couch and stretch, Javi’s calloused fingers reach out and brush across the bare skin of your hip, your t-shirt raising with the stretch of your arms and the feeling of his hands on you sends a slight shiver up your spine. It’d been far too long since the two of you managed to be intimate, your mind blanking on the last time it wasn’t just hurried hands and covered mouths to muffle the moans and grunts from seeking a quick release before running off towards Emilia’s cries.

It’s like Javi’s tiredness is suddenly forgotten, the bareness of your skin a reminder that he hasn’t touched you in so long. A smirk slides across his lips while his hand travels further up your shirt, squeezing along your side until his fingers skim across the underside of your left breast and this thumb seeks out the hardened peak of your nipple to pull between his nimble fingers. 

“Javi,” his name is quiet on your lips and you’re not sure if he even heard it until you feel his hand engulf the entirety of your breast and he squeezes and kneads the sensitive flesh in answer.

“Please.”

In a flash, Javier is pulling you down onto his lap where he still sits on the couch and you’re almost winded at the move as you sit on his strong thighs to steady yourself.

You hate that you want to stop this and move it to the bedroom where his back won’t hurt as bad, where you both can spread out and enjoy each other because the spontaneity of it all is sexy and a call back to your time in Colombia where you and Javi couldn’t get enough of each other. 

When you don’t automatically start grinding down onto his lap, Javi glances up at you curiously, “What’s wrong, baby?

“Take me to bed?”

He gets it then with a quick nod and you know he’s thinking the same things you are and pulls you close to his chest as he moves off the couch and slides you back down to the ground. Taking your hand in his, he guides the two of you down the hallway towards your bedroom. It’s almost comical, the eagerness of your steps, and he presses you against the wall just next to the door of the room once you’re inside. 

“Can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner when you suggested dropping off Emilia at my dad’s,” he breathes against your ear, hands falling to your hips and squeezing them tight. 

You laugh against his ear, his mouth moving across your neck and his lips trailing across your collarbone to sponge heavy kisses on any bare skin he can find. “Kinda figured it was an unspoken thing. I’ll be more blunt next time,” you grin, running a hand through his dark hair and tugging him away from your neck to lock your gaze with his. “Fuck me, Javi. I’ve missed your cock, baby. Please.” 

His eyebrows raise in surprise at your bluntness but he wastes no time, pulling you away from the wall to back you up against the foot of your bed where you fall back, your hands reaching back to catch your fall. Biting your lip as you watch Javi’s chest heave, the tight pink shirt stretched across his chest, your legs instantly pressing together in search of some relief. Even just looking at him has you wet between your thighs and the movement isn’t lost on him. 

Javier is quick to undress, his clothes haphazardly tossed to the side, leaving him in only his boxers where his cock is straining against the seam in the middle. Seeing his clear arousal causes another wave of wetness to pool between your legs and you crook a finger, hoping to entice him to come closer. Kneeling on the bed, he brings you up with him to lay against the pillows and trails a finger down your thin t-shirt to where your leggings sit on your stomach, tracing along the waistband. 

“Tell me what you want, hermosa,” Javi asks you quietly, nose nudging against your cheek while his fingers dip just slightly under the fabric. 

Normally you weren’t so bold, but with how pent up you were there was no hesitation to your voice when you spoke up, turning to look him in the eye. “I want your mouth on my pussy, Javi. Then I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk the next day.” His fingers still against your skin, the side of his mouth quirking up and he sat up suddenly, yanking down your shorts along with your underwear to leave you bare from the waist below. 

“So wet for me already, hm?” Javier spreads your legs wider, putting you on display for him and your body is shameless in the way it opens itself for his greedy eyes. Your hands slide up your tummy and under your shirt to grasp at your breasts, tugging on your nipples while you watch him watch you. 

Rough hands smooth up your thighs as Javi moves to settle himself between your legs. Your eyes follow his movements, watching as he licks his lips once he pulls your pussy lips apart and sighs softly to himself. “Most beautiful pussy I’ve ever seen,” he makes sure to tell you before flicking your clit with his tongue. 

Javi is relentless in the way he eats you out, mouth sloppy and slick after just a moment and when he looks up at you from his place between your thighs, you can see how debauched he already is. You blink quickly as Javi spits on your pussy, bringing a finger up to rub the wetness against your clit and you cry out. Your hands move from your chest to grip the comforter below you and you pant his name like a prayer once his two of his fingers slowly slide inside of you. 

“It’s been so long, baby. Gonna have to stretch you out a bit before I slide my cock in you.” Javi’s voice is rough, scratchy and you bare down against his fingers once he starts a slow rhythm of fucking you. “You always take me so well though. Like your pussy was made for me.” 

“Want your cock, Javi. Please,” you plead in reply, your left hand releasing the comforter from your grip and sliding it through his hair and tugging softly to get his attention, hoping he would look up and see the desperation on your face. 

Javier pays you no mind. His fingers start fucking you in earnest, a third slipping in next to the other two thick digits and you can slowly feel your orgasm building. A slow simmer through your body, like a current that was waiting to crash. Your whines fill the room, along with the wet sound of his fingers fucking you. Once his thumb starts rubbing your clit in time with the thrust of his fingers, you feel like you’re about to tip over the edge. 

“Come on baby, can feel you squeezing my fingers so fucking tight. Come on my fingers. Come.”

At the sound of his voice, something snaps inside of you and you cry out his name as wave after wave of pleasure wracks through your body. Your body pulses around his fingers, back taut as you ride his hand. 

Javier’s voice is soft as he coaxes you through your release, “Such a good girl. So good for me, aren’t you?” Peppering kisses across your thighs and up your tummy, he slowly slides his fingers out of you and into his mouth to lick them clean.

The sight is obscene as you watch him, your body still pulsing from your release. A smug grin is painted across Javier’s face and you bring a hand through the damp hair on his forehead and push it out of his eyes. “God that was good,” you laugh, scratching at his scalp. 

“Thanks for the glowing review, querida.” Javier kisses his way up your stomach, tugging at your shirt that had been bunched up under your arms to finally rid you of the last bit of material that was blocking your body from his.

You can taste yourself on his lips when they finally meet, his tongue sweeping across your bottom lip before kissing you slowly. The kiss is languid and soft, your hands grasping at Javier’s back to pull his chest to your own. Your hands wander down to his hips, tugging at the band of his boxers with a frustrated groan when you can’t manage to pull them down all the way and you move away from his lips, “Javi, take them off. Fuck, please. I need to feel you.”

Javier pulls away just enough to tug down his boxers and kick them off before he’s descending back on to you, his cock hard and wet at the tip smearing across your thigh. Your hips move around as you try and line him up, a whine slipping past your lips, desperate. It’d been too long since you’d been able to fully appreciate the heavy weight of him inside you and you were needy, body wanton and open for him.

“Baby, calm down. I’ve got you. Shhh,” he quiets you, a quick kiss to your lips. 

Your eyes widen as you feel the tip of his cock running through the slit of your soaked pussy, the head catching on your clit and you cry out as he continues to tease you. The feeling is torture and you dig your nails into his back, a silent plea that you need more. Javier seems to get the message and presses into your cunt, the thickness of him splitting you open in the best way. He’s wide and long, the perfect fit and once he’s bottomed out you feel pure euphoria at the pleasure it brings you. 

“Shit you feel so good, squeezing me so tight,” Javier  grunts, his hips slowly starting a rhythm as he fucks into you. The slapping of skin fills the room, his cock slick with your arousal.

No one had ever felt as good as Javi did and he knew it, the smug bastard. You nod quickly, agreeing with him as you were at his mercy. “So good, Javi. So good. Harder, please.”

He’s quick to comply, his hips fucking into yours at a brutal pace. His hands pull your thighs up at an angle that makes your vision blurry, calves thrown around his shoulders and he’s relentless as he thrusts into you. You watch him lick at the pad of his thumb, the digit finding your wet clit quickly and he rubs in time with his thrusts. 

A moan catches in your throat as your climax nears, head dug into the pillow beneath your head, legs going rigid against him and you tighten around his cock as you cum, Javi’s filthy words muttered low. “God you feel so fucking good around me, squeezing me like this. Cum for me baby, fuck fuck fuck-,” and he finds his own release just behind your own, spilling hot and wet inside your cunt. 

Your body feels boneless, the tips of your fingers numb as you drag them across Javi’s back as he breathes slow and hot against your neck trying to catch his breath. Feeling starts to return to your limbs, and you card your fingers through the sweaty curls at the back of Javi’s head. “You still got it there Agent Peña,” you tease, tugging the short hairs up to get him to look at you.

The look on his face is pure annoyance and you give him your biggest shit-eating grin as he shakes his head and slowly pulls out of you with a groan before sliding next to you and tugging you into his side. “You’re lucky I love you,” Javier grumbles, arm wrapped around you and fingertips trailing along your upper arm in a soothing motion.

“I love you too,” you sigh against this chest, tucked underneath his chin. “How many more rounds do you think we can get in before we have to pick up Emilia tomorrow?”

Javi pauses before he answers and hums to himself, knowing he’s genuinely thinking about it putting a smile on your face. “Gonna shoot for 5 but, I’m an old man now so who knows huh?” He digs his fingers into your side, tickling you. 

“Shut up and go to sleep, Javi. I’m tired.” You pat at his chest blindly as you yawn, kissing his chest once you’re more settled under the blankets.

He grumbles quietly to himself but is out like a light a few beats later, snoring softly in your ear, filling the silence of the unusually quiet house. Your hands trace carefully along his chest, mind already filling with other things you two can get up to before you pick up your daughter, wondering if you still had your toys stashed away somewhere.

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #narcos #pedro pascal #narcos fanfic #my writing

[theonewiththefanfics]

Give You Hell (one-shot)

Synopsis: When you’re in a relationship with someone famous while being famous it can be difficult. But not for the Reader and Harry, yet when her past comes knocking, she’ll make sure to know where she stands.

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: fluff, some minor angst, like microscopic 

Warnings: swearing, reference to past abusive relationship, but nothing explicit.

Word count: 3428

100% inspired by ‘All American Rejects’’ ‘Gives You Hell’

Dating someone famous while being famous yourself had pros and cons, much like everything in life. The cons mostly came from the outside, not from the inside. It was the opinions of others, thinking what they said mattered, the scrutiny of the press, hoping one of them would mess up, and they could run some bullshit article just so their numbers could go up, without a second thought of how the people involved felt, and it was some jealous fans who didn’t seem to comprehend the people they admired were actual human beings with feelings and thoughts and emotions and autonomy. But other than that, Y/N’s and Harry’s relationship was just like any other. Save for when their emotions bubbled over, millions of people heard them in songs.        They’d met at the iconic yellow-suit-Harry Brit awards. She’d been right next to Hugh Jackman opening the show, a red glittering bodysuit with a black and gold ring-master jacket, a top hat adorning her head as she dominated the stage. If Harry had been sloshed at that point (much like he was later on, but who was Y/N to say, given how most of the night was a blur for her), he would’ve absolutely started drooling at the sight of her, and he was one of the thousands who stood up, hollering and clapping as she and Hugh ended their performance.

       Much to his dismay though, Y/N wasn’t one of the people assigned to sit by his table, instead, she was a couple of rows behind, whispering something into Billie Eilish’s ear, the two erupting into uncontrollable laughter.        He felt like a creep as he tried to catch every possible glimpse of Y/N, her smile making his heart race. She’d been on his radar for a while, had even thought about asking her to collaborate on a song for ‘Fine Line’, but at the end of the day, it was an album of personal discovery (and when one of his producers told him Y/N was halfway across the world in the middle of Norwegian woods for the next half-year working on her own music, he didn’t want to be a bother). But seeing her then, Harry wondered why he hadn’t reached out on his own, especially after at the after-party Lizzo had dragged Y/N to him and introduced the two.        The following day, pictures of them dancing together, drinks in hands and drunken grins on their faces would sweep the web, sparking millions of rumours, but, at that moment, they didn’t care, nor did they care about what was written because as Harry twirled Y/N under his arm, as much as the connection was there, that night they went their separate ways. Even when they were drunk, they understood that about the other person, and wouldn’t accept anything else, but a sober and coherent ‘yes’.        Sometime midday the next day, Harry reached out to Y/N through a DM on Instagram checking in on how she was doing, which then turned into a six-hour FaceTime call.        “What do you mean you’ve never had a hangover?!”        Y/N laughed at Harry’s almost offended expression. “I mean I’ve never had a hangover. I’ve never thrown up while drunk or after being drunk, my head’s never hurt – nothing. I mean I’m tired, but that’s because I’m still on New York time and got to bed at like five AM.”        “You… are something else.”        She wiggled her eyebrows. “Is that something else something good?”        Y/N didn’t know, but when Harry saw her eyes sparkle, his heart skipped a beat, and he immediately knew – she was it. “The best.”        “Well…” she bit her lip. “If I’m the best, would it be too forward of me to ask you out for a coffee?”        What Harry didn’t know was that when she saw him smile as if those were the best news in the world, her heart skipped as well, and she knew he was the one.        “Only if it’s my treat.”        “But I was the one who asked you out.”        “Yes, but you can pay for the second date.”        Holding in her squeals of joy was tough, but she raised her eyebrow, giving Harry a sly smirk. “Already so confident there’ll be a second date?”        Harry scoffed. “And a wedding!”        Seeing Y/N throw back her head as she laughed, made all sorts of butterflies fly through his stomach.        “Okay, Styles. I’ll take your word for it.”        Three months into the relationship, the two were booked to appear on The Graham Norton show together, which was also the first time they’d appear officially as a couple at a work/outing kind of a setting since the rumours started floating, and a picture of Harry kissing Y/N outside of a hotel room had sort of confirmed that.        “So, you two.” Graham pointed between Y/N and Harry with his cards. “Have started to date? Not to say anything Harry, but Y/N… I didn’t think boy-bands were your type.”        That made her lean over in laughter as Harry gave everyone a shocked face, before slumping back and pouting, nudging Y/N with his knee. “That’s not funny.”        “I mean it kind of is.”        “She was twelve when she swore off boy-bands.” Graham nodded, taking a sip of his wine. “Isn’t that what you said last time you were here?”        “Hey, it’s been ten years since I said that!” Y/N laughed. “Cut me some slack. All the people I was crushing on are married anyway… with kids… and could probably be my dads… I have issues, don’t I?”        Everyone exploded into giggles while Harry shook his head, chuckling.        “Love you with all of your issues.” He nudged her shoulder, and she nudged right back, taking a sip of her drink.        “Yeah, give it a couple of months. You’ll regret your words.”        The thing was Y/N was so wrong, and she’d never been happier to be so wrong. Each morning they were together, Harry woke up to her showering him with kisses or vice versa. As private as Harry was, his Instagram stories were now filled with pictures and small videos of them, of Y/N’s face half-covered by a blanket, glasses crooked as she smushed her cheek to his chest and watched a movie, or her eating breakfast while re-watching old Bones and Castle episodes with captions like ‘dunno how she keeps the food down’ and ‘she swears it’s just for research’, while her feed was full of candid Harry photos or her rummaging through his closet and showing everyone his immaculate style, and giving tips how others can recreate it (also she may or may not just use that as a reason to steal his clothes).        Generally, people loved it, and their love for one another. It was refreshing to see them enjoy each other’s company, and not be afraid to do so, especially now, given how it was a couple of days before Y/N ended her tour in New York in Madison Square Garden, to which Harry had specifically flown out for despite being in the middle of filming for ‘The Little Mermaid’. Three AM blinked on the clock, as the two finally drifted off to sleep after five hours of a passionate reunion when her phone dinged, indicating a message had arrived.        “Turn it off,” Harry grumbled into the skin of Y/N’s back. “’S too early.”        She hummed in agreement, furrowing her brows as her palm blindly searched for the offending device, and she squinted her eyes as the light burned her retinas before widening in shock at the message.        Harry felt her body go rigid, and he pressed a kiss to her neck. “Everythin’ alright, lovie?”        “Uh – “ she stuttered, trying to process the words on the screen. “Uh, yeah. Yes, everything’s fine. Just… some last-minute changes for the show. They want something really big for the ending, and some of the propositions are just…”        She could feel a smile stretch across Harry’s mouth. “Extravagant?”        “You could say that, yeah.”        “Sounds like it’s gonna be one hell of a show. Not that the others weren’t.”        Y/N switched the phone off wiping away the message first and then turned to cuddle into Harry’s chest. “It most certainly will.”        For the next two days, she was an anxious ball of mess, as her crew got everything ready, and her and her band rehearsed relentlessly before she asked all of them to gather at the studio to add a song to the setlist.        “It’s gonna be a couple more hours, Hazza,” Y/N murmured into the phone as Harry had called in to check on her. “ ‘M sorry. You don’t have to wait up for me. I know you’re still adjusting to New York time.”        “ ‘S alright,” he slurred, clearly already falling asleep but determined not to. “Can’t sleep without you anyway.”        At those words, Y/N’s heart did that stupid flipping thing it’d been doing ever since Harry entered her life to stay, and a shy grin blossomed on her lips. “You’re exhausted, sweetheart. But I’ll tell you what - if you do go to bed, I’ll be sure to wake you up with a kiss when I get back.”        “You promise?” She could hear the smile on his face.        “Swear it.”        “Alright, lovie. I’ll be waiting to cash in on that kiss.”        “I’ll run to give it to you as soon as I can. G’night.”        “See ya’ in a bit.”        Y/N let out a shudder as she heard the call disconnect. She entered back inside the studio and clapped her hands, drawing the attention of her producers and band members. “Where were we?”

***

       The hour before a show was always nerve-wracking for Y/N. It’s when the adrenaline truly started to rush, when her feet and palms got all tingly, and her ears and cheeks heated up. It was when their warm-up band exploded on stage, and the crowd got pumped up. But the best moment that night by far was right when she was about to run out, Harry had pulled her back by the wrist and kissed the living daylights out of her.        “You’re gonna kill it tonight,” he muttered against her lips, words skimming her mouth and making her smile as bright as the sun. She seemed to do that a lot around him. It’s why he now dedicated Golden to her every time he sang it.        “Thank you. For being here.”        Harry flicked her nose. “Always. Now go. People are waiting.”        When Y/N finally appeared on stage, pretty much glowing as brightly as the stage lights, her fans went wild, and even more so when she jumped, starting off the show. The whole time, her gaze flitted to backstage just to get a glimpse of Harry, and whenever she did, she saw him dancing, singing along, filming her having fun and some clips of himself as well, going absolutely ham to her songs.        As the night was moving towards the end, usually, she’d feel euphoria from giving a great performance, after hearing thousands of people sing her songs in unison, now Y/N felt closer to throwing up and fainting.        “So uh…” She pushed back strands of sweaty hair, hollers of people echoing in her head. “This is a very special show tonight. Umm… this is the first concert my boyfriend’s come t - .” She didn’t even get to finish the sentence before the cheers of the people interrupted her, deafening the girl even with the earplugs.        “But umm… it’s also a special show because two days ago someone reached out to me, and uh… he… well, he was as important of a person once the same way Harry is right now, and he wrote this.”        Y/N went over to where the piano chair was, lifted it and fished out her phone from it, revealing the message that’d been basically haunting her nights and days since receiving it.        “Breaking up with you was the biggest mistake I ever made.” To her own surprise, her voice was steady and sure, unlike her hands which were trembling like leaves in a storm. “I know you look happy and in love, but I know it’s not true. I’ve known you for five years, I know how to see through the mask you put on every day just to make sure others are happy while you yourself suffer an inauthentic life. But you do deserve to be happy. And I’ll be waiting for you if you decide to give us a chance again. I’ll be at your concert in Madison Square.” She looked out into the crowd. “You wrote a song once for me. If you sing it, that’s how I’ll know you feel the same.”        By the time she got to the end, there were no more shouts or screams, but confused murmurs. Y/N let out a shuddering breath, hoping that she could manage to do what she wanted, and everything didn’t fall apart. “The thing is, I’d like for Harry to come on stage, please.”        She could see the fear in his eyes as he jogged to stand next to her, but he disguised it with an overenthusiastic smile as he waved over towards the raging sea of people. He’d seen the message, had seen her reread it more than fifty times by that point, and as sure as he was in their relationship, when someone who held such importance, no matter if good or not, in someone’s life came knocking again, you could never be too sure what would happen. Harry didn’t want to say anything, believing if it was important enough, she’d tell him. Guess that was it.        “So, uh…” Y/N pulled Harry’s arms over her shoulders and grasped onto them, grounding them both. “This is for you.” Y/N looked over into the crowd before glancing over her shoulder, Y/E/C eyes meeting Harry’s wavering green ones. “And you,” she whispered so that only he could hear. “Hope you know I mean everything.”        As the cords started playing, she felt Harry unwarp his arms from where she’d been holding them over her shoulders and a smile erupted on her face.        “I wake up every evening,” Y/N sang, “with a big smile on my face, and it never feels out of place.”        “And you’re still probably workin’,” Harry’s voice joined in, grin as wide as the Cheshire cat’s, as he now had a microphone in hand, the other placing earplugs in his own ears, “at a nine-to-five pace… I wonder how bad that tastes.”        “When you see my face hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell,” the two harmonized, Y/N’s eyes locked onto the masses, imagining the face of her ex-boyfriend who had the audacity to send that message.        “When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell.” Harry was looking at the crowd as well, now fully understanding the message and the person behind it, and although he lived by ‘treat people with kindness’, he couldn’t help but gloat at the fact he got to sing with the love of his life on stage, and basically serenade a break-up song to a person who didn’t know how to appreciate what he’d had.        Y/N cocked her head to the side. “Now, where’s your picket fence, love, and where’s that shiny car? It didn’t ever get you far. You’ve never seemed so tense, love. I’ve never seen you fall so hard. Do you know where you are?” It was hard not to smile, knowing where she was and who she was with. Harry threw an arm over Y/N’s shoulders as she sang, giving a mock sad look, while Harry pouted. “And truth be told, I miss you… And truth be told, I’m lying!”        “When you see my face hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell! When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell! When you find a gal that’s worth a damn and treats you well.” Y/N pointed towards where she imagined her ex was standing. “Then she’s the fool, you’re just as well, hope it gives you hell! Hope it gives you hell!” For a split second, the music slowed down, guitar strumming in the air, as Harry pulled Y/N by the palm and towards his chest.        When the next lyrics came out of his mouth, he knew them to be true as he sang them to the man, he’d heard Y/N talk about, to the man who thought everything he’d done to her, every horrible word and deed was justified, to the man who thought breaking someone else down was the only way to bring themselves up. “Now tomorrow you’ll be thinking to yourself, where did it all go wrong, but the list goes on and on.”        “And truth be told, she misses you,” Harry hummed, Y/N letting out a large laugh, holding onto his bicep, as he slightly changed the lyrics. “And truth be told, she’s lying! When you see her face, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell! When you walk her way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell!  When you find a gal that’s worth a damn and treats you well.” Harry sighed, shrugging his shoulders. “Then she’s the fool you’re just as well hope it gives you hell.”        “Now you’ll never see,” Y/N took over the song. “What you’ve done to me.” She placed a hand over her heart. “You can take back your memories, they’re no good to me. And here’s all your lies, you can look me in the eyes, with that sad, sad look that you wear so well.” She dragged her finger down her cheek, giving a pout while Harry mimicked her stance before turning the mic to the audience.        “When you see my face, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell,” the crowd sang back with such vigour, Y/N was sure the whole ground was shaking just from their voices, and the clapping and stomping to the drum rhythm would bring the whole world down. “When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell! When you find a gal that’s worth a damn and treats you well, then she’s the fool you’re just as well, hope it gives you hell!”        The two were jumping around the stage like madmen, adrenaline filling their veins. “When you see my face hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell!” “Hope it gives you hell!” Everyone else repeated.        “When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell!” “Hope it gives you hell!”        “When you sing this song and sing along, well you’ll never tell. Then you’re the fool, I’m just as well, hope it gives you hell!” Y/N grinned once more, placing her hand over her heart, meaning every word – she was just as well. She had amazing friends, a career that’d flourished, and a person who loved her more than words could describe.        “When you hear this song, I hope that it will give you hell!” Harry crooned down the mic, knowing their happiness would, Y/N’s happiness would give him hell. And he enjoyed it, knowing how good her life was.        “You can sing along I hope that it puts you through hell!” Her voice became the only sound as the last word echoed around everyone, her chest heaving up and down from the exertion, from all of the emotions running through her body as well as the overwhelming feeling of not only having Harry watch her perform but to end up performing with him.        When his hands wrapped around her body, it startled her out from the daze, and the popping confetti startled her even more, as the rest of her band joined the two to take their bows, grins on all of their faces while they did so.        “Not the song you thought I’d sing, is it?” Y/N laughed into the mic, Harry’s arms tightening around her waist. “There’s a reason I blocked your number, let alone you from my life. Don’t think I won’t do it again.”        “But I would like to say thank you, to the asshole in question,” Harry said, making Y/N’s forehead scrunched up. “You let go of the best person ever; you had the honour of calling yourself her boyfriend, but instead, you chose to walk away. So, thank you for that. Because now I’ll have that honour and pleasure for the rest of our lives.”        Yeah. It was one hell of a show.

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Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife​ @ollyoxenfrees​ @bnhvrdy​ @tvwhoresblog​ @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15​ @breezykpop​ @girlboss99​ @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist​ @alliyjane​ @sirtommyholland​

A/N: I love ‘All American Rejects’ and have been listening to ‘Gives You Hell’ non stop. It’s the best break-up song ever, and you won’t convince me otherwise. 

P.S. my tags are always open :)

P.S.S. please don’t repost my work on other platforms without my explicit written permission. reblogs are fine :)

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x reader smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fandom #1d fan fiction #1d #one direction #one direction imagine #harry styles angst #eroda #harry styles eroda #all american rejects #give you hell #gives you hell