#Angst/comfort
Note
Hiii! I've never done this before but... What if Scara and reader had a fight... Like a fight fight... and reader was seriously injured due to him being blinded be emotions... What do you think would the aftermath of this...?
A/n: Yet again, another ask that i was originally gonna js give a short thought to, turned into something longer *sigh* (I need to stop doing this).
Summary: [Angst/Comfort]He could never say sorry, even in the moments it mattered.
Warnings: Harm to reader, Scars, Unrealistic Writing of getting hit with lightning,
———
During his time in the fatui, no one exactly had the galls of stopping his rampages. The balladeer is quite famed for his regular intervals of anger, you’re no stranger to it yourself, you’ve seen him mad. it’s just…
Hes never been angry towards you.
You’d get the occasionally scoff every now and then if you uttered something he found foolish, but never has he lashed out at you to such a degree. Not to this level. He’s painfully reminded by his ignorance as soon as his hand crafted eyes lay sight upon your bare form, a body, a human body, covered in scars from lightning. Lightning he inherited, lightning he engaged, lightning he struck you with.
There’s no doubt, the silence is defeaning while you sit with him in the empty room, waiting for one of the medical professionals in the fatui to check on you.
He’s silent. It’s rare. He’s never been quiet for more than 5 minutes with you. He’s either complaining or attempting to make small talk a vast majority of the time, typically the former. But he doesn’t, he doesn’t even stare at you like he always does. You’re about to break the silence before the harbinger breaks it for you.
“You don’t look okay.” He doesn’t look at you, his vision trained on the white tile at his feet.
“Yeah. you struck me with lightning.”
…
“oh.”
It doesn’t hit you until he releases a quiet ‘oh’ from his mouth. Something you probably know better than anyone else that has been on teyvat within his 500 year lifespan.
This man can not say sorry.
“oh? Oh? Kunikuzushi put your pride away for one second.” you don’t try to hide the frustration in your voice. You truly did not mind the eccentricities the puppet in front of you holds, you never did, not even when you first met him.
He still doesn’t answer but you can see the way his face winces and widens in the same moment. Seems he got way too accustomed to ‘Kuni’ and ‘Scara’ to remember that you do in fact remember his given name.
“What else should I say to you? I’ll strike harder next time?” He isn’t getting mad, he was only infuriated earlier, but not now. You can see his demeanor start changing. Whether it be in the direction you want it to go, you’re not sure yet.
“Maybe a sorry? An apology? A “oh forgive me [Name] I love you so much?” He doesn’t answer you, he only scoffs and fall back onto the back of his chair. You don’t miss the way his fingers dig into the cloth of his clothing, probably using it as a replacement for human skin.
The man can’t breathe, but you can hear him inhale and exhale before his next words.
“i don’t know what happened. I didn’t mean to- well not at you.” It comes out softer than the other words hes said to you the entire period of time in the room. His eyes are finally off the floor, trying their best to maintain contact with your own.
Once again, all thats left between the space of you two, is silence. You look away from him for a moment, fiddling with the blanket draped over your legs. You’d like to assume that’s the closest you’ll get to an ‘I’m sorry from him’, but you can’t accept that, so you don’t reply. Ever since waking up, you never were able to see the scars on your body, only the ones on your arms. You wonder if they look hideous.
Your hand reaches behind you to your back, your fingers grazing whatever part you assume suffers scarring.
“Are you worried about how it looks?”
“No, not at all, fighting is commonplace in the fatui.”
“Lying isn’t good, you told me that yourself didn’t you?” Damn him and his pristine memory. You can never remember where you leave your keys yet he can remember things you’ve said to him years ago?
…
“No matter how scarred and beaten you are you’re still [Name] are you not?” With the way he’s looking at you, you’re sure this is another thing he’d want to keep out of the publics knowledge. “Even without your face i’d strike someone down for you in an instant.”
“Oh like you did to me?”
“…” Seems the sweet moment was ruined. You don’t mind though, it’s funny to you.
———
The weeks that followed still held some tension. You’d refused to see him for awhile. When asked by some trembling lower subordinate, one in which the harbinger had personally sent, why you weren’t seeing him, your reply made the soldier fear for his own downfall.
“He’s insufferable right now. I’ll talk to him when he shows me he’s not a man child who can’t admit his faults.” You’ve always been able to put up with his outbursts, but right now, you realize maybe you should turn up your attitude with him.
After that unfortunate event, not unfortunate for you, for the fatuss, your days have seemingly been more dull. You’ve forgotten just how eccentric the balladeer is. Waking up never seemed so boring, the puppet would either be by your side in the early mornings, or knocking on the door ready to whisk you away.
Seems that routine is coming back.
“Oh? Have you finally swallowed your ego-“
“I’m sorry.”
Seems he couldn’t go any longer without you, how sweet.
———
Tagging this, I was super confused if this could be characterized as angst w/ comfort or fluff. I just did both though.
#scara when reader used his full government name:#Reader: Kunikuzushi. Scara: 😨#genshin x reader#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche fluff#scaramouche angst#genshin impact x reader#kunikuzushi x reader#wanderer x reader#wanderer fluff#angst/comfort#wanderer angst#genshin angst#vesperwrites
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Familiar & Unfamiliar
din djarin x female!reader
warning: attempted sexual assault (not by our boy mando, and i don’t describe it in depth the furthest it goes is non-consensual kissing), light smut, angst then comfort, then fluff fluff fluff, identity theft, mentions of slave trade, canon violence, dom!din trying hard to be sub!din for you, he doesn’t succeed for long
word count: 4,174
Summary: You travel the galaxy with a Mandalorian who is much softer than his impenetrable beskar would lead others to believe. He leaves you with his son to search for a Quarry, but it’s not the Mando you’ve come to know and love who returns to you.
“It shouldn’t take long.” Mando hummed as he collected his gear from his weapon’s storage. You sat cross legged on the Razor Crest’s floor with the child in your lap. His small green hand played with the small, metal ball he seemed to always find. Your hand stroked his ears only stopping to push the ball away from his mouth when he began to try and chew on it. Mando turned around to stare down at you. “Will you be alright here?”
After traveling with the Mandalorian for the last two months, babysitting and completing repairs on the ship, you had finally grown accustomed to the silver beskar covered man. Initially it had been difficult for you to even look at the man for longer than a second⏤ too intimidated by the black t-shape visor that stared back at you. However, joining him had been your only option at the time, an act of self preservation, so you had to push your fear aside. Luckily, you had quickly learned that though the metal he was covered in was impossible to penetrate, the man underneath was as soft as they come.
You learned that the solemn, silent, and dangerous facade Mando wore was more or less an interpretation of what people saw. Yes, he was dangerous. You had seen him wrestle quarries three time his size and come out unscathed, but you had also seen him humming a song under his breath while giving the child a bath. You had seen Mando go out of his way to purchase you a new pair of boots in the market simply because he noticed your discomfort with your current pair. The brief times you felt his touch, a brush against your arm or a hand on your back, it was soft and comforting. His eyes were impossible to see behind his helmet, but you could feel the care in his gaze. Having Mando’s attention on you felt like safety.
Mando called out your name and you blinked in surprise. “Oh, um, yeah! We’ll be fine, don’t worry.”
“I shouldn’t be gone long. Days at most.” He reassured before you could even ask. You stood up and Mando drifted closer⏤ his gloved hand reached out brush the child’s head. Mando chuckled when his son cooed and giggled in response. You heard a long time ago that the best judge of a person’s character was how they treated animals and children. Mando passed that test with flying colors. “You remember the rules?”
“Hmm, no running with scissors?” You joked. Mando tilted his head and you chuckled. “Don’t open the Razor Crest’s ramp for anyone but you, and if I do have to leave for some emergency, get to a crowded spot with plenty of witnesses and talk to no one. Not until you come for us.”
Mando nodded in approval. He gave the child’s head one last pet along the ears and as his hand pulled away you felt his leather covered fingers drag down the length of your bare arm. Heat crept up the back of your neck and you prayed to any deity that was listening that Mando hadn’t heard the hitch in your breath. You were not attracted to your metal armored Mandalorian employer and friend. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself.
Without another word, Mando made his way to the back of the cargo hold. He opened the ramp before heading down and you called out for him to be careful. Mando glanced over his shoulder, at you and the child, and you waved. You stood at the cargo hold’s edge as Mando pressed a button on his gauntlet and the ramp began to rise. As the metal door rose, you stared at the mandalorian’s back until the ramp cut him off from sight.
Din was more distracted than usual and he told himself it wasn’t because of the newest addition to the Razor Crest. It obviously wasn’t because of you. No, he was just busy with all the bounties he was juggling and the stress of trying to find the child’s people. Then the added dilemma of his current quarry. Already he had been on the flesh trader’s trail for three days. Three full days. That was nothing in comparison to past hunts that would take him weeks on end, but Din found his patience wearing very, very thin.
“Are you ready yet, mate?” A voice asked through the closed door.
Din had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. His only lead came from a mercenary who was hunting an Inner Rim politician that had come all the way out here to participate in the slave trade. It was the only access Din would have to get into the market to find his quarry and it came at a cost. Din glanced down at the helmet held in his hands. It was an oddly shaped red thing from Kaleesh culture. His new mercenary partner made it very clear that if he walked in as a Mandalorian everything would be lost. On any normal bounty Din would’ve risked it anyways. There was very little in the galaxy that could coax him out of his armor, leave him bare to the world, but a child in danger did it.
A mother had come to him after he searched for a lead in the local cantina on his first night. She had fallen to her knees in front of him and begged for his help⏤ she offered everything she owned and more in return. Her only child, an eleven year old little girl, had been stolen away from her. Dragged to the flesh market to be sold. Din swore to her that he’d bring her back. On his word as a Mandalorian, she would be reunited with her daughter. He just wasn’t allowed to do it looking like a Mandalorian.
“Seriously, mate, we’re going to be late!” Trigg, the mercenary, barked once more.
Din settled the helmet over his head and shifted uncomfortably. It didn’t fit quite like his real one did, but it was tight enough that he wasn’t worried about it falling off in the heat of battle. For a second, he just stared at himself in the mirror. Red armor of cloth and leather covered every inch of his skin, black gloves pulled on tight, and his oddly shaped helmet covered his face entirely. Din hated it more than anything. But, the sooner he saved the girl and caught his quarry, the sooner he could return to his ship. Return to the child and you.
“I’ll be right out.” Din called back. He settled all his beskar armor pieces into the tarp bag he had borrowed from the child’s mother. It was her home they were using as a base of sorts. Din hid the bag in the closet of the room behind a stack of boxes. It made him anxious to leave his armor behind, but he forced himself to step away and open the door.
Trigg stood in the hall wearing his own personal gear. The blond man had scars from a raking claw on the side of his head leaving those patches with sparse hair. His arms were crossed over his chest and he stared at Din in a mix of annoyance and impatience. “Finally. Did you have to do your hair?”
“It’s you we’re waiting on now.” Din replied dryly as he marched past the man to the door.
The sooner, the better.
Night had fallen for the third night of Mando being gone. It was too soon for you to be worried about him, but a ball of anxiety still sat in your gut. He had been away for longer periods of time before. The longest thus far being three weeks. You were mumbling a soft song under your breath as you rocked the child to sleep. When his eyes drifted close, you carefully set him in the hammock above Mando’s bunk and tucked a blanket around him.
When you were certain that the kid was settled, you drifted toward the fresher to get ready for bed yourself. You wondered what it would take to convince Mando to pick up a bounty on a planet with an ocean soon. Going from the lava plains of Nevarro to the deserts of Tatooine and now this dusty Outer Rim world was bleak. You missed water. You had grown up near a river on your homeworld and spent a decent amount of time there. It wasn’t until you saw dry planet after dry planet that you truly began to appreciate natural bodies of water.
You shrugged out of your clothes, tossing them aside, and slid into a pair of shorts and one of Mando’s shirts. It had been borrowed early on in your travels and now it belonged more to you than it did him. The dark shirt was large enough to cover most of your shorts. You had been in the middle of washing your face when you heard the tell tale sound of the ramp. Quickly, you grabbed a towel and dried your face while rushing out of the fresher.
Mando was walking up the ramp just as you entered the cargo hold and you shot him a smile, “Hey, Mando.” He came to a sudden stop. You glanced around but saw no evidence of a quarry behind or near him. Had they gotten away? “What happened with the quarry?”
The Mandalorian crossed his arms and a nervous energy settled over your skin. The way he stood just seemed…off. And, the silence that surrounded him wasn’t the usual comfortable quiet you had grown used to. Mando’s helmet tilted some, as if his eyes were raking over your form, and you tugged on the bottom of your shirt anxiously. This was an outfit you wore to sleep every night on the Razor Crest, but right now was the first time you felt uncomfortable having it on around Mando.
“Are you⏤Are you injured?” You asked.
Mando strolled closer to you. Another bit of him that wasn’t right⏤ his gait. As you tried to gather your thoughts, he came to a stop right in front of you. Nearly chest to chest. A lump had formed in your throat, mouth dry, and you tried to swallow it down. Being around Mando always made your stomach feel as if it were filled with butterflies, made your heart race out of your chest, made an addicting warmth pool in your core.
That was not how you felt right now.
Your hand reached out, as quickly as you could manage it, and slammed against the lock button of Mando’s bunk. The metal door slid down. It clicked into place, and the Mandalorian in front of you grabbed you by the throat and shoved you back until you slammed into the Razor Crest’s wall. You clawed at the familiar, gloved hand tightening around your throat as a low, unfamiliar chuckle rumbled through the modulator.
“What’s wrong, baby?” A voice that did not belong to your Mandalorian asked. “Aren’t you happy to see me? You were a minute ago.”
“Wh⏤Who⏤” You tried to spit out but you could barely breathe let alone form words.
“I’m your Mandalorian, baby.” The cruel laugh coming out from behind the t-shape visor you found comfort in felt so very wrong. He yanked you off the wall and released your throat. You managed to gasp a single breath of air before he backhanded you across the face hard enough to see stars. You fell to your knees and elbows roughly, a cry of pain leaving your lips, but you struggled to find a weapon of any kind. “That’s right. Crawl away, baby. Run. I’m a Mandalorian who likes to hunt, and now you’re my prey. How’s that sound?”
Your hand found a screwdriver, lying off to the side where you had been working on something under the floorboard earlier, just as he kicked you in the side to flip you over. The imposter knelt on the ground over you and you tried to stab him where only the flight suit sat. Unfortunately, he turned fast enough that the screwdriver struck beskar and did absolutely nothing. He laughed once more as you gave up the attack to try and slip away, but he grabbed your hands by the wrist and pinned you to the ground. The imposter sat on top of your thighs, kneeling over you, and you were forced to stare at your reflection in Mando’s armor.
It would be a bold faced lie for you to say you hadn’t daydreamed about having the beskar armor on top of you⏤ the weight of it pressing into you in every delicious way you could think of. But not like this. Not with a stranger inside of it.
“Who knew the ship came with such a pretty little whore.” The imposter hummed. He shifted your arms so he could pin both your wrists with one hand. With his other, he grasped the bottom of the beskar helmet and pulled it off. The man’s eyes were a piercing blue. Cold and cruel. Blond hair covered his scalp except on the side of his head where the scars of what looked like claw marks sat. He tossed the helmet aside and gave you a sickening grin. “Is that what you’re here for? You keep the Mandalorian’s bed warm? Let him fuck you when he’s done with a hunt?”
“Get the kriff off of me!” You struggled against his grip, against his touch, but nothing seemed to deter him from using his other hand to run over your body. You screamed until you were hoarse and when you cried out for Mando the man sitting on top of you just laughed. Faintly, you could hear frantic tapping behind Mando’s bunk door and fear struck you. Was the child awake? He wouldn’t be able to unlock the door from inside you didn’t think.
It seemed the imposter was too immersed in you to hear the sound.
“How about this,” The man leaned closer into your space, “I get a quick taste of you now, and then, once we’re up and in hyperspace, I’ll fuck you better than your Mando ever could, yeah?”
His lips crashed down on yours roughly. You tried to turn your face away, but the imposter bit down on your lower lip hard enough to draw blood. Between the metallic taste of your blood on your tongue and the smell of his rancid breath you were going to be sick. You gasped in pain and he took advantage by shoving his tongue into your mouth. He pressed his hips down into you, grinding against your stomach now, and the feel of his erection pressing into you made a horrified sob slip form you. It seemed to only spurn him on further. He let go of one of your hands to grasp at the waistband of your pants.
The sound of sprinting footsteps made the imposter sit up and you were barely able to register what was happening when a body dressed in red leather slammed into the beskar covered imposter⏤ both men falling away. Taking advantage of your freedom, you scrambled back as quickly as you could. The stranger dressed in red, wearing an oddly shaped helmet that covered his face, had a hand wrapped around the imposter’s throat while his other fist pounded away at the man’s face. Grunts of anger filled the air with every blow thrown and the imposter fought back only for a moment before his body went slack.
You scrambled away further but your back hit a metal crate sitting in the cargo hold. It shifted slightly and the sound made the stranger sit up and spin around. You gasped⏤panicked. Heart still racing. The imposter laid motionless. His face bruised, broken, and bloody beyond all recognition. You were breathing hard, trying to suck in more air as the air you did get brought no relief. The stranger jumped up, motions smooth and agile, and rushed to you. A cry of fear left you as you tried to pathetically jump up, but his hands wrapped around you. Soft, but firm. A comforting weight.
“It’s me. It’s me. You’re safe, mesh’la.” A familiar voice came out of the unfamiliar mask. The bright red and angry shapes still jarring to look at and you tried to struggle away. He pulled away to rip off his gloves. One hand came to rest on the side of your face, while the other lifted the red helmet just enough to reveal a jaw covered in dark scruff and lips. “Listen to me, mesh’la. You’re safe. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s me. I’m here.”
You were still shaking, your entire body threatening to tremble into pieces, but your breaths were beginning to grow controlled. The warm hand on your face was grounding. It was familiar. You couldn't see the man’s eyes, but you could feel his soft gaze. Safe. You felt safe.
“M⏤Mando?” You gasped.
“Yes.” He nodded. “I’m here, mesh’la. You’re safe now.”
You broke into an uncontrollable sob, unable to bite it back, and Mando didn’t hesitate to pull you into his arms. The coarse, red armor you buried your face into felt unfamiliar, but the strong arms that wrapped around you felt right.
For the first time, Din felt uncomfortable in his helmet. It smelled of the spice that Trigg disgustingly chewed on. He couldn’t even bring himself to pull his armor on. It left him in a pair of plain sweats and shirt. After setting you in his bunk, the child curled into your side, he had stripped the mercenary out of his beskar and thrown the piece of shit into the carbonite freezer.
The job had gone so well then so bad. Din found the young Rodian child and killed his quarry. He’d only get half the bounty with the flesh trader dead, but something was better than nothing. The moment he returned the girl to her mother his heart had stopped when he realized his armor was missing. Din had sprinted to the Razor Crest, faster than he had ever run, and still he hadn’t come soon enough.
Din stepped out of the fresher. The Razor Crest was in hyperspace and the cargo hold was dark. The only light spilling from the open door behind him. The sound of whimpering filled the otherwise silent space around him. Din hurried to the bunk to see you tossing and turning. He scooped the child up and set him in the hammock before crawling in to try and calm you.
He called out your name, bare hands on your shoulders, and when your eyes snapped open, thanks to his visor, he could see clearly the way panic and fear filled them. You screamed and began to swing at him. His helmet. It was his helmet. Without thinking, Din ripped his helmet off and threw it out of the bunk. Din pulled you into his arms again, pressing your face to his shoulder, and whispered reassurances.
“It’s me, Mesh’la. It’s me. I’m sorry. I was wearing the helmet. You’re safe, I promise.”
“Mando?” You breathed. He buried his hand in your hair and pulled you tighter into his chest. As if the two of you weren’t already tangled together in the small confines of his bunk. “I’m sorry I hit you⏤”
“It didn’t hurt. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left you alone. I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner.” Din didn’t know which emotion waged in him the most⏤ guilt or anger. They were neck and neck. You took in a deep shaky breath and your hot breath on his neck made him sigh in relief. You were safe in his arms. Din rubbed your back and the question fell out before he could hold it back. “Did he… Mesh’la, did⏤”
“No.” You whispered. “You got here just in time.”
Din could feel tears soaking into his shirt. When the tears stopped, Din coaxed you out of the bunk and onto the cargo hold floor. He grabbed a first aid kit and rushed back so you weren’t left alone for too long. The only light still came from the open door of the fresher and he sat so his back was to it. The dim light illuminated your features and it was like a spotlight to the injuries you sported. He had told you that you could open your eyes. With the way you sat, it’d be too dim for you to see his face, but you said you didn’t want to risk it.
He let his fingers trace the forming bruise surrounding your right eye. It trailed down to brush against the torn skin of your lower lip. Dank farrik. That kriffing fucker had bit you. He could see the outline of teeth. Din’s jaw clenched. He grabbed a bit of bacta and rubbed it gently into the forming bruise. He was going to do the same for your lower lip when you stopped him.
“Did I hurt you?” He blurted.
“No, no. Not that.” You mumbled. “Can I… Can I ask you for a favor?”
“Anything, mesh’la. Anything.”
“Can you kiss me?” You asked. Din was certain he had misheard you. It was why he sat in silence. He was trying to puzzle out what it was you had actually said. You spoke again, nervous, “You don’t have to. I⏤I…”
“You want me to…kiss you?”
You nodded. Eyes still closed lightly. “I know it’s dumb. It⏤ I just don’t want to feel his lips anymore. I don’t want the taste of him on me.”
“That’s not dumb, mesh’la.”
Din settled one of his hands on the side of your face. His thumb caressed the soft skin of your cheek. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, Din began to lean in. He didn’t want to startle you. He wanted to give you every opportunity to pull away if you needed to. Din would be lying to himself, again, if he said he hadn’t imagined the way your lips would feel on him. But not like this. He hated that these were the circumstances, but there wasn’t a single thing Din wouldn’t do for you if you asked.
His nose brushed against yours. Din was close enough that he could feel your lips part. He waited one second more before pressing his lips softly against yours. One of your hands lifted to tangle in his hair and a simple gesture shouldn’t make him feel so hot under his skin. The kiss was slow and tender. Din was terrified to press too hard and bring you pain. The injury to your lower lip still so fresh. And after what you had just suffered through, he wanted you to have all the control. If you needed to use him to rid yourself of that nightmare, to erase the memory that bastard left on your lips, then he would.
Your tongue brushed against his lower lip, tracing it, and he parted his lips for you giving you room to explore him. Maker, the taste of you was so sweet. It took every single ounce of Din’s self control to not deepen the moment even further. The kiss grew almost frantic. A hand in his hair and another at the back of his neck to pull him into you. You pulled back just enough to suck in a sharp breath before your lips was back on his and Din lost his battle for self control.
He wrapped his other arm around your waist and pulled you into his lap. Din was caught off guard when you pushed down to press yourself against his already hard cock, but it was a welcome surprise. He grabbed your hips, hands tightening into the soft skin there, and grinded into you. You moaned into his mouth and Din pulled away briefly so he could press open mouth kisses along your jaw then down your neck until he reached your shoulder. Thoughtlessly, he bit down, wanting to leave evidence of himself on you, and you let out a sharp gasp while grinding into him again. Din ran his tongue against the bite soothingly.
Din’s hands slipped under your shirt and he desperately let his lips find yours once more. His tongue slipped past your lips, but then he tasted it. The sharp, metallic tang of blood. Din pulled back quickly realizing his plan to let you run the show had gone to shit. Both of you were breathless.
“Are you okay, mesh’la??” He pulled one hand away from your hip to touch your face. His thumb brushed against your lower lip and in the dim light he could see the tint of red.
“Thank you.” You breathed. You leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss that missed and only landed on the corner of his lips. Then you leaned your head on his shoulder and just took slow breaths. Din let his knuckles drag up and down your spine. He could feel your entire body going limp as you melted into his hold. You mumbled, “Thank you, Mando.”
“Din.” He replied, but he didn’t know if you had already fallen asleep or not. “Call me Din.”
#the mandalorian#din djarin x you#din djarin#din djarin x reader#mando x reader#mando x you#mandalorian x reader#mandalorian x you#female reader#reader insert#din djarin smut#dom!din djarin#trying real hard to be sub!din djarin#angst/comfort#fluff
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HELLO!!! Can i make a Luffy x F!reader (not dating YET but mutual pining) request where the reader gets injured during a fight but hides it from the crew because the victory party started, (and because after everything Luffy has been through recently the reader doesn't want him to worry) BUT she goes down half way through the party?
What is Luffy's reaction??
Angst to comfort ig?? does that make sense???
THANK.
OMG YOU KNOW I LOVE ME SOME ANGST!!!!!!!
I hope this is what you were thinking/hoping!!
Luffy x F!Reader
Request
Angst/Comfort
Warnings: Mentions of Death, Blood, and Implied Injury. Some mature language.
Wake Up...
She gripped the edge of the bathroom sink as she placed another round of antiseptic on the wound. It was a fresh laceration, bright red and still bleeding. She had only received it a day ago while the crew was ashore and attacked by a local gang. The fight was short lived, but she still took quite a few hits, and when one came at her with a knife…
It would be so simple to just go to Chopper and ask to be patched up, but by the time everyone made their way back to the ship, the party was underway. Drinks and food and music, complements of Zoro, Sanji, and Brook respectively. It was one of the first times since reuniting that the crew was able to celebrate a win together. Luffy was overjoyed, his smile was back after so much pain…how could she ruin that by making him worry?
After another painful round of wound cleaner, she made her way back onto the deck. Brook was jamming away on his violin while Sanji pined after Robin and Nami with plates of sweets and mugs of tea. Zoro laughed through a half drunk bottle of sake while Luffy devoured a full serving of meat on the bone. The sounds of laughter once again filled the deck of the Thousand Sunny. She smiled, her eyes growing heavy. She braced herself against the nearby pillar and tried to stop the world from spinning.
“Hey kiddo, you doing okay?” Franky walked up beside her, he had been making his way to the spread of food when he saw her loose balance. She looked up at him, his smile faded when he saw how pale she looked, her skin glistening with a thin layer of sweat. “Woah, buddy, you don’t look too good,” he said, putting a large, strong hand on your shoulder. “You need me to get Chopper?”
She grinned, feeling the world swallow her up. “Hey, Franky,” she began. “Don’t let me hit my head okay?” Her legs buckled beneath her and she fell. Franky lunged forward to catch her, easing her onto the ground. “Kid? Kid! Hey, we need help over here!”
Franky’s voice cut through the jovial music, causing Brook to freeze and the rest of the crew to look towards him. When Luffy saw her on the ground, he rushed over, leaving his half eaten meat behind. Chopper followed closely behind, grabbing his bag from off the bench. The rest of the crew shot over, hovering as she lay in Franky’s arms. Her breath was short and shaky, her brow furrowed in pain. Luffy looked her over with panic, that’s when he noticed the blood soaking into her shirt. She was hurt. He faltered backwards several steps before he fell to his knees, his heart beating loud and fast in his ears, his eyes full of fear. Zoro noticed his Captain and knelt down in front of him. “Luffy, you’ve got to stay with us okay?”
“Blood…” Luffy said, his voice hoarse and soft. “She’s bleeding…”
Zoro grabbed his shoulders. He might be the future Pirate King, but right now, he was that same little kid who just lost his brother. “Look at me Luffy,” Zoro said, his voice stern but comforting. “This is not like then, this is now. She’s going to be fine. You won’t lose her, understand?” That’s when Zoro noticed the tears welling up in Luffy’s eyes. He stared blankly ahead, his face locked. “Blood…” he breathed. “So much blood…”
“We need to get her inside,” Chopper said. “She’s responsive but in a lot of pain.” Franky nodded and stood up, slowly cradling her tense body in his arms. She let out a pained yell as he did, and Luffy’s breath caught in his throat. He stood up, shoving Zoro out of the way and running towards her. He was tackled by Usopp who pinned the manic Luffy down. “Calm down Luffy,” he yelled. “You won’t be any help to her the way you are now.”
Luffy clawed at the ground, his fists filling with grass and dirt, he yelled for Usopp to get off him. “I’m your captain,” he screamed, his voice raw. “You do as I say and get the hell off me!”
A large, leather clad shoe pinned Luffy’s head to the ground. Sanji stood above him, his eyes filled with rage and worry. “You need to calm down Luffy,” he sneered. “This isn’t helping anyone, especially not her!”
Luffy fought against the pressure, but with his arms bound by Usopp, he wasn’t going anywhere. His breath became fast and heavy, his body slowly losing the will to fight them off anymore. Hot tears streamed from his eyes and he sobbed. He let our months of repressed worry and fear. Pain he thought he was over all came rushing back into him like a flood he couldn’t control…
***
“You gave us all quite a scare,” Chopper lectured her as he changed her bandages. It had been two days since she collapsed at the party, and in that short amount of time, Chopper’s treatment had all but healed her. “You’ll have a nasty scar, but other than that, your wound looks really good!”
She smiled, caressing the small doctor’s cheek. “Looks like I owe you my life yet again Doctor.” Chopper began to blush, assuring her that her compliments could not fool him, and that she was a liar. She laughed. “Is Luffy around? I haven’t seen him since I woke up.”
Chopper paused. “He hasn’t really talked much to anyone on board. He just sits at the helm and looks out at the sea…we’re all sort of worried about him.”
She sighed, looking out the small window at the ocean. In an attempt to save Luffy the pain of seeing her hurt, she ended up making the situation much worse…
***
Luffy sat cross-legged, letting the sea breeze run its invisible fingers through his hair, his hat dangling around his neck. The sun was getting ready to set, that would mean three days since he last saw her…
”Is this seat taken?” Luffy’s head shot around to see her standing behind him, a small blanket wrapped around her. His heart dropped to his stomach. She looked so tired…
She must have taken his silence as a response and lowered herself down next to him. His eyes never left her, afraid that if he so much as blinked she would disappear forever. “You don’t need to blame yourself, you know,” she began. “I hid it from everyone. I didn’t want to make you worry. I guess that plan sort of backfired though huh?”
Luffy still only stared at her…”You were bleeding,” he began. “And then you collapsed…just like he did.”
She looked at him. “Luffy…”
“I thought you weren’t going to wake up too…”
Before he could say anything else she threw her arms around him, pulling him into her arms. Luffy held onto her tight, burrowing his face in between her neck and shoulder. She felt his body shake with silent sobs. “I’m right here,” she whispered. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere I promise…”
#one piece x reader#angst/comfort#monkey d luffy#franky#tony tony chopper#robin#nami#roronoa zoro#brook#usopp#black leg sanji#fanfic#request#requests open#im so so so sorry
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𝙄𝙢 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚
masterlist
Synopsis | Bakugou hates people touching him. But after certain events take place, he waste no time in reaching for your embrace.
Word count | 4.2 k
cw | character death, angst
Bakugou x Black!reader
A/N | I feel like I did a pretty good job with this. I hope you enjoy!
You didn't know what to say. Staring at him as he lays on your chest like a son would lay on his mother. You were shocked. Even throughout your near year and a half month relationship, he has never initiated touch like this. During a night full of deep conversations and wine, he had revealed to you that the idea of someone touching him further than a pat on the back or high five made him writhe in his skin. You respected it through and through, but for some reason, you couldn’t shake the feeling of sadness that sat in the back of your mind.
It struck something in your heart to see him making an effort to show affection towards you, to show you that he really cared in a way he wasn't suited to. You loved seeing how he would slowly reach his arms around you to reciprocate a hug. He knew physical touch meant the world to you. He didn’t understand why, but he told himself that he didn’t need to, that he only needed to try his best to make you feel appreciated in the way he knew you would see.
It was an unsuspecting, rainy day when he entered your shared apartment. You were immersed in a book for an assignment due in the coming days, blasting music through your headphones.
You weren’t paying attention to your surroundings, and he didn’t blame you for it. He couldn’t, for he knew you wholeheartedly felt it unnecessary to be ‘constantly on guard’. You told him that it wasn’t good for the soul to be in a frequent state of paranoia. He knew you only told him this to avoid a lecture when he scared you as you were walking down the hallway leading to the laundry room shared by everyone in the apartment complex.
He tapped you gently on the shoulder, effectively and unsurprisingly making you jump. “What the hell!” You squealed, putting a hand to your chest. He doesn’t tell you off like he usually does, instead just looking at you with glossed over eyes and drooping shoulders. “Babe, what's wrong?” You questioned, taking your airpods out and putting them in their respective place. He doesn’t answer, opting to lay, almost collapse, onto your chest and torso. He wraps his arms around you and buries his face into the valley of your breasts.
Your eyes widen in shock. He’s never done something like this. What almost stuns you more is his scent. He took a shower at Best Jeanists’ agency. He nevers does that, only resorting to cleaning himself there when he’s too covered in the labors of his day to comfortably walk home. You were about to ask him what was wrong, but then you feel a tear dampen your shirt. More start to follow, and before the two of you knew it, he was full on sobbing. He hiccups and sniffles as his arms come around your waist, circling you as if you were going to disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough. You freeze, not knowing how to go about this the right way as to not make the situation any worse. You wanted to cry yourself, seeing the love of your life be so sad. But instead, one hand goes to his back, and the other to his head, caressing him in a comforting manner. He cries his heart out, and you let him, continuing to soothe him in the best way you know how.
Eventually, the sobs turn silent, and the pair of you lay there in silence, not daring to say a word. You go on with your ministrations, stroking his head reassuringly. You hope he gets the message of your actions, that he understands that whatever happened, you’re here. You sigh a breath of relief when he lifts his head, gazing into your eyes. He sighs, asking if the two of you can talk about it in the morning. You agree almost instantly, telling him to not worry about it. And you sit there with him in silence, simply basking in the presence of each other until you fall asleep.
–
You wake up to find yourself in a room with no one besides yourself. Rubbing your eyes, you walk into the kitchen to find him washing dishes, back facing you. You walk forwards, standing next to him in a silent way of saying good morning. He turns the water off and sighs, not knowing where to start. “Yesterday… I was at work when…” He stops in his tracks, rubbing a tired hand across his face. You could tell he was getting frustrated, so you don’t say anything, only looking at him while he tries to formulate his words. “While I was patrolling yesterday, some shit broke out outta nowhere, and this kid ended up dying.” He pauses, groaning at the memory. “I was with him the whole time, and he was talking about how he couldn’t wait to see mom because they were supposed to watch a movie together when she picked him up. He couldn’t have been more than six, and he just… bled out, right in front of me. And what hurt the most was that I couldn’t do shit about it, and I just had to tell him that it was gonna be okay when he knew it wasn’t. He knew I was lying, but he had a smile on his face the whole time. ” A tear slips down your cheek, and you rush towards him. “I am so sorry Kat.” You say, and he knows you mean it.
You hug him, and he hugs you back. And he hurts, he hurts so bad. But he feels as though he can feel better in your embrace. It doesn’t make him nauseous to feel your body on his anymore, and it makes the pain a little bit better. You make him a little better.
-Nene
#nene#x black reader#x reader#bnha x reader#mha x reader#mha x black reader#bnha#mha#bnha x you#angst/comfort#angst#bakugou x reader#bakugou x black reader#bakugou x reader angst#bakugou x black reader angst#bakugou angst#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou katuski x reader
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u write angst so well ❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹 I'm thinking about one with klaus, but like, something that hurts but it's comforting at the same time
Like him and reader are in a relationship and he travels for some days, reader has depression and during this time she practically can't do anything, cleaning, basic hygiene, cooking, the basic stuff most people do without difficulty. And when he comes back he sees her in this situation and comfort her, giving her a shower, babying her, this fluff stuff
Klaus is one of my comfort characters and, by the way, the speeches he has about life and enjoying like actually helps me a lot with my depression. And u are gold 🥇
Never Alone
Y/n was a sweet girl. She always was.
Growing up she was often full of emotions, crying almost always whether it was because she was too happy or too sad or too angry. However every time her eyes would water, each time her bottom lip would quiver, one of her parents or aunts or cousins would sigh and tell her how annoying she was, how pathetic it was. Her emotions and feelings became ignored, assumed to be overdramatic.
So when she really had something worth crying over, nobody cared to listen. Not a soul would give her even a second. It didn't matter how many times she tried to seriously talk to them, explain she wasn't an oversensitive little girl anymore, she knew what she was feeling and what had happened to her. They didn't care to hear it.
Instead she learned to push any thoughts down or at least aside. If nobody wanted to listen then she wouldn't bother making noise for them to hear.
For a long time, she barely spoke a word.
Most of the time she didn't even really feel anything anymore. She tried to sometimes but she just didn't, couldn't. Life began to feel utterly pointless.
That was when she would spend days in bed, not moving to do a thing. Often she would hope that if she stayed there long enough, maybe she would disappear or if she slept for long enough, maybe she wouldn't have to wake back up. Unfortunately for her, neither of those things happened.
It was fate really that on one of the only days she got dressed and went out that she met Klaus Mikaelson.
Somehow she managed to be in the grill at the wrong time and managed to both witness and experience a supernatural attack. Klaus had thrown Damon across the room which caused him to slam into the wall beside Y/n. Her eyes were wide and she went to walk back out the door but Klaus sped over and grabbed her wrist she she could exit.
"I don't think so sweetheart" he chuckled, pulling her further into the room and she simply couldn't be bothered to struggle. He sat her down in a booth and gave her a fake smile, looking into her eyes and compelling her "Stay still and stay quiet" he ordered before going back and finishing off the rest of the scooby-doo gang.
His eyes flicked back over to the girl he had compelled. Her head lay against the back of her seat and her fingers picked at her lips until the rich scent of her blood reached his nose.
Klaus sped infront of her and he leaned down to pull her hands away, her eyes glanced up at him with anxiety swirling inside of them. His thumb swiped the blood away from her lips and he sucked it off of his skin with a hum. A slither of amusement shone through him as she shifted uncomfortably.
"You can talk now sweetheart, and move as she should please" he told her, interested in her reaction but she barely gave one.
"Can I just go home now please?" She asked, her voice weak and tired. His eyes narrowed briefly before he shrugged and pulled her up.
"Course you can love, come on lets get you back. Point the way" he murmured as he took her outside and placed her infront of him so that she may lead him.
They walked in silence back to her house. She hesitated to go in when the sound of her parents yelling could be heard from where they stood. Klaus observed as she wondered back into the home, her parents oblivious as she slipped past them and up the stairs.
Klaus forgot about her easily, out of sight out of mind.
But then she came into view again, she was sat on the edge of Wickery Bridge with her legs hanging off while she leaned forward daringly.
His brows furrowed and he made his way over. He took a seat beside her, letting his own legs dangle off as well. Again she gave no reaction to his presence, not even when his hand reached out to gently hold her hand. Klaus may not know her or necessarily care for her but he didn't want her life to be seen as a tragedy. He didn't want her to throw what she had away when she could still have so much more.
They sat in silence for some time, sometimes she would swing her legs and lean further forward to see the water below. Each time she shifted closer to falling his grip on her tightened and his gaze hardened.
Later in the night her phone pinged, Klaus glanced to see her mothers name on the screen with a message beneath telling Y/n that neither of her parents would be home for the weekend so she would need to look after herself. His eyes softened as he watched her read the message. Both brows rose on his face when without a care, she tossed the device into the river.
Klaus couldn't help the little laugh that left him as the water splashed and the light from the phone quickly sunk away from sight. His smile died away again as her gaze didn't lift from the deep flowing water and he hesitantly slid his arm around her to secure his hold.
"I'm not gonna jump" she mumbled but he still frowned
"I don't believe you" he whispered honestly and she hummed.
"You don't know me" she muttered and he tilted his head
"Perhaps not yet" he countered but she didn't offer a response. Klaus sighed softly and carefully dropped down from the edge and back onto the rode, his arm stayed around Y/n's waist so that he could pull her back to safety. She huffed in annoyance as he pulled her along with him.
"I don't know who you are or what you are or what you want.." she dragged and he hummed.
"My name is Niklaus, well thats what my father named me however I choose to go by Klaus, I have for centuries. I'm a vampire-werewolf hybrid and what I want is for my family to be calm and collected for one in the thousand years that I have had the privilege to know them" He grinned at her and she stared blankly at him.
"Okay" she mumbled, accepting her fate.
And from that day on, each time he saw her, he would talk at her and pull her along walks with him. He began bringing her back to his house and going through his plans with her, sometimes she would give advice or little comments to put him on a better track and he found her rather helpful when she wanted to be.
Klaus began to notice more and more about her as time went by. Like how she didn't eat much or change her clothes often. He seemed to have to wait forever outside of her house as though no matter what time he came to see her, she had always just woken up.
So he did what he thought would be good.
Klaus set her up a bedroom in his home with a wardrobe of Klaus and a conjoining bathroom which consisted of both a shower and a bathtub.
He caught on quickly that if he wasn't in the house with her then she didn't bother waking up let alone getting up and doing anything. So he started opening her curtains in the morning, gently waking her up and placing some sort of little breakfast item on her lap and a drink on the nightstand while he ran a bath. He'd sprinkle the bath-salts and pour the bath-soak before folding up a towel and hanging it over the radiator.
Then he would wonder back into her room and lift her up. He had discovered that mornings were especially difficult for her to do anything. She wouldn't talk and she wouldn't move. He was lucky that she felt guilty enough to eat the breakfast he fed her, though sometimes she couldn't physically do it and he would encourage her to drink a smoothie so that she had something healthy in her. But every day, without fail, he would carry her to the bathroom and place her onto the heated tiled floor.
"Can you do it yourself sweetheart?" he would ask each morning, his gaze soft and gentle. Sometimes she would be able to and would get undressed and bathe all by herself. Other times she could get undressed and in the bath but would ask him to come back and help her scrub her skin clean. And of course there were days where she just wouldn't respond at all and he would give soft kisses to her head while carefully, respectfully undressing her and helping her into the tub before cleaning her off and lifting her back out to dry her.
There had been one or two occasions when he had been in a rush or a stressed out mood and would end up being a little rude to her. Her eyes would just grow tireder and little tears would gather to them. Guilt would consume Klaus whole and he would push aside whatever was bothering him and apologise to Y/n while helping her get ready before giving her a soft kiss and promising he would be back to check on her.
For a while the most he would do was just a gentle peck on her lips in an act of comfort however as he continued to look after her, he fell in love with her. He would see how long one of his little kisses would last before she would pull away and he would test how far his hands were allowed to wonder before she would let out a whine and curl away.
Time went by quickly, their routine continued. Klaus would ensure she was up and okay, he would go out to fix his problems, return at some point in the day to give Y/n something to eat, sometimes she would have gone for a walk in the garden or be sat with one of his hybrid who were under strict orders to never lay a hand on her, then he would go back out and return a last time. Then she would sit in his art room with a book or a word search or something to occupy her mind while he painted and spoke to her about all the things he had seen that day and which of them he thinks she would have enjoyed. Often they cooked dinner together and then he would take her back to bed and watch a film before departing to his own room.
A few times he would fall asleep beside her with her head on his chest or in his lap as he leaned against the headboard. Neither ever complained or mentioned the arrangement so Klaus began sleeping there more often and would wake his love with a sprinkle of kisses across her cheeks until her pretty eyes would flutter open for him to see.
Things were going quite well until Klaus had to go away for a couple days to speak with some werewolf packs. He had been skeptic and concerned to leave sweet Y/n all alone but he also knew he had his hybrids and asked them to take care of her. He hadn't known that they were unsired at that point and completely forgot the girl even existed.
Y/n hadn't moved from the spot in her bed since Klaus had left two days before. It only took one glance for Klaus to realise this when he returned. His expression changed in an instant and he was pulling the covers off of her, promising her he wouldn't leave her again.
"It's all okay sweetheart, lets get you to the bathroom okay?" He whispered as he carried her in and sat her down on the toilet while running a bath for her to lay in. "I'm gonna get you some water okay?" he murmured before speeding down to the kitchen and grabbing some water and tossing some pasta into a pan with water and turning the stove on before flashing back upstairs.
He placed the glass down on the side and lifted her back up, pulled her clothed off and lowered her into the bath. His fingers gently wiped the tears away that had slipped down her face before pouring some of the warm water over her hair.
"My sweet girl" he cooed softly, his hands lathering her hair in shampoo. "You're going to be just fine" he murmured, rinsing her hair out and combing conditioner through the ends. He reached for the loofa and began washing her body gently, pouring soap over her shoulders and scrubbing it across her soft skin. "Okay sweetheart, stay right there" he mumbled, zipping back to the kitchen and pouring the pasta into the colander and then back into the pan with a jar of tomato sauce before grating some cheese over the top and grabbing a fork. He brought it up and put it on her bedside table before going back to her bathroom and washing the conditioner out before lifting her out the tub and engulfing her in a warm towel and carrying her to her room. He sat her down on the chair by her vanity and stripped her bedding off and tossed i to the laundry basket. Using his vampiric speed her put clean bedding on and then placed her on top the duvet with a kiss to her head. The towel was taken from her and one of his clean shirts was pulled over her head and he carefully pulled her arms through.
"Alright angel, there you are. Nice and clean my lovely, now we're gonna eat some pasta, okay?" he mumbled, placing her cushioned lap tray onto her lap and then the bowl of pasta and her glass of water. "There we go sweetheart" he smiled softly while stabbing some of the pasta onto the fork and hand feeding her.
Once she ate half of it and drank all of her water he took it away and pulled her onto his lap. His arms circled her and she hid her face in his neck before hesitantly whispering, "Klaus?"
"Yes love?" He hummed, stroking her hair
"I need pants" she uttered and he glanced down, remembering he had only half dressed her.
"Of course sweetheart, forgive me" he replied, quickly grabbing some panties and sliding them up her legs to cover her up. "Perfect" he smiled.
"Thank you" she muttered, looking up at him "I'm sorry" she told him but he shook his head.
"No angel, I'm sorry. I should never have left you all alone." he argued, a frown on his face as he kissed her cheeks and stroked her arms. "You feel like going outside today?" he asked kindly and she shrugged.
He nodded silently and carried her out into the garden, sitting her down on the soft grass so that she was surrounded by the flowers. He wondered over to the strawberries growing a little way over and picked a couple before bringing them over to her with a smile. She returned it with warmth and giggled when he held them to her lips for her to take a bite.
He sat down beside her and pulled her into his side. She lay her head on his shoulder and held onto his hand. Klaus rest the side of his face against the top of her head and watched at the trees swayed in the distance.
"I love you Y/n" he whispered, his voice delicate and airy as the words met her ear. Her hand squeezed his and he smiled.
"I love you too" she told him quietly and he kissed her head, she then lifted it to face him and pressed her lips to his. Klaus felt his expression soften as he kissed her back and interlaced their fingers. Their lips parted and he rest his forehead against hers,
"I'll never leave you alone" he told her.
"You promise?" she whispered, her voice shaky.
"I promise."
#angst/comfort#angst/fluff#soft!klaus mikaelson#may be triggering#gentle!klaus#klaus mikaelson#the originals#the vampire diaries#klaus mikaelson x reader#klaus mikealson fanfiction#klaus mikaelson one shot#klaus mikaleson imagine#elijah mikaelson#rebekah mikaelson#the vampire diares imagine#kol mikaelson#niklaus imagines#niklaus mikaelson#tvd klaus#klaus m#klaus mikaelson x y/n#klaus michaelson#tvd universe#hope mikaelson#klaus mikaelson headcanon#klaus mikaelson fluff#klaus mikaelson yandere#klaus mikealson smut#klaus mikaelson x yn#klaus mikealson x reader
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Warning: slight angst, angst/comfort, blood mentions, Leona licks you, some may not like it so you are warned.
Author's note: It was supposed to come out on his birthday but that's okay, it's a reworking of something I've already written in the past.
Twisted Wonderland, Leona Kingscholar x Reader
Nightmare
Leona always thought that becoming king would be the greatest joy he could ever get in life. To be acclaimed by his people, loved, respected, seen for the wonder that he truly is. All his problems disappear before his merits, finally recognized.
You're proud of him, aren't you?
He looks at you next to him, he sees your smile. You know you will share his privileges with him.
You love him, you told him in many ways.
So why that sharp pain in his stomach, that death throb under his side?
You smile happily as you hold the bloody sword in your hands. His blood, dripping on the ground, on the royal robes, flowing amidst the laughter of jubilation at the deliverance from the dying king. Ruggie celebrates too, and Jack, and Epel, and even the brats of Heartslabyus cheer in victory. You didn't even bother using magic, just a sharp blade was enough.
His hand grips the wound in a vain attempt to survive.
But if he survives, what's he ever going to do with your hate on his shoulders?
Leona closes his eyes, and for a moment he asks for everything to end soon. But then he realizes from his gasp that it doesn't have the traits of death. The pain in his stomach is suddenly gone: he's awake.
He finds himself sitting between the sheets of his bed in the dark room.
All is calm, only the pale moon is watching him. His hand is wet yes, but only with the sweat of his torment.
It's just a nightmare, he tells himelf, and Leona Kingscholar is no longer a puppy afraid of nightmares. But even as he says it, his chest hurts, a primal dread scrapes the edges of his mind.
He feels so alone in that bed. It’s not the solitude that he claims, to which he is accustomed. It's a loneliness that asks him questions that he never wants to answer, it's a real loneliness, not the one he pretends to want.
Tomorrow everything will be easier with the sun, he thinks, yet he is downstairs outside his room.
He feels cold, his bare toes starting to bother him, but he's stronger than that.
His knocking on your door is insistent and arrogant, but effective.
When you open the door, a thousand emotions pass through your eyes: concern and confusion prevail.
He stands there like a grumpy tousled cat, cuddled up and nose wrinkled as your eyes alternate between him and the time on your phone's glowing screen.
“Leona…is it…quarter past three in the morning?”
“It seems.”
He sees you flutter tired eyelids: “What's going on? Did something catch fire? Is anyone sick? Hurt?”
Leona awake during the day is already a special event, but at night it is definitely a sign of misfortune.
But he snorts: “Nothing like that. Will you let me in?”
You smile at him, stepping aside: “Well, it's the practice, right?”
He doesn't moan or huff, he just walks past you looking for the first place he can sit down. Your expression saddens.
"Leona..." You call him softly, you kneel in front of him but his eyes escape you. His ears hang over his head and for some reason his general appearance of him brings you a melancholy that doesn't usually come from him. The boredom and pent-up anger that is usually your issues with him are dissolved into an existential sadness.
“What happens?” You investigate again, as gently as possible. What on earth could have hurt the prince so much as to reduce him like this? And what can you do, little creature, in front of something like that?
Leona remains immersed in silence for a period of time that you cannot quantify, but when his green eyes finally look at yours and you can hear his voice, there is no answer waiting for you: "Do you hate me?"
That question comes out to him in such a strange tone, feeble and wounded, that it scares even him. The big bad lion is not brave enough to face his inner monsters.
You're shocked, you almost think it's a joke, or you're dreaming, because such Leona is unthinkable.
“Do people hang out with those they hate at your home?” You ask with a hint of a smile that just wants to reassure him, even if you aren't sure either. Your hands slide over his, you take them meekly as if they were wet little birds: "Why on earth should I hate you, Leona?"
His mind suddenly comes up with more reasons than are actually real, and at the same time he seeks an answer within your gaze.
Then, suddenly, his eyebrows furrow in tension as he sights something that had gone unnoticed up to that moment.
“What did you do?” He asks as his thumb brushes the edges of what looks like a dry cut on your forehead near your left temple.
“What? What is it?” You ask confused at first, as your hand goes up to his.
“Oh, no, it's nothing!” Then you laugh, relaxing “A small accident during the alchemy lesson a few days ago. Nothing serious."
A few days ago. Nothing serious.
He hadn't noticed. Even though you'd been around him most of the time, he hadn't noticed at all. You had been hurt and he hadn't noticed.
He must have let you down, and he feels humiliated. Someone looked after you so well that you didn't even feel the need to tell him – or maybe he didn't listen to you?
He bites his lower lip in an unconscious punishment, while he feels his swollen heart become heavier in the new awareness of being useless to you.
“Come here.”
His dragging you into his lap feels rough, but you sense that something has changed in him, something that had remained unknown until then.
“Leona?” You call him quietly, but he silences you with a soft whisper. You're not sure what his behavior responds to, whether it's a puppy's need for affection, the care of a lover or a primordial protective instinct that resides in the animal part of him.
His tongue slowly caresses your wound with mechanical and slow movements. They are of no use now, yet they speak of his need to have you near, to be worthy of having you.
It's a prayer for forgiveness he'll never say in words, but what's the need for words?
Your palms rest patiently on his shoulders, and his hand gently holds the opposite side of your face as he continues that primal ritual.
How many hidden sides does your magical prince have?
“You should do this more often.” You tell him, while you hug more to his chest.
“Don't get your hopes up.” He answers you, but in the meantime he feels your body abandoned in his hands, all your need to receive the love of your loved one.
Your hand rests on his neck, caresses him, then goes up his cheek, up to his sensitive ear. Leona meekly bows his head to let himself be cuddled. For once, in the middle of the night, with you, he can afford it.
You still love him, it's a relief. A relief that deserves his invaluable commitment, not to make you leave.
#twisted wonderland#leona kingscholar x reader#leona kingscholar#twisted wonderland leona#leona x reader#leona x you#reader insert#angst/comfort#twisted wonderland fluff
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Turn Back the Sands of Time
Feanor x daughter!reader
Request: Can I request a fic for Feanor, coming back to Valinor after hia death, finding out Nerdanel had been pregnant when he left and she gave birth to a daughter. And if possible, this daughter has Miriel's sewing gift. – anon
A/N: I took a different route to how their interaction would occur and made this quite sentimental than I intended :)
Warnings: female reader, soft angst, softness and comfort, reconciliation
Words: 2.4k
Synopsis: With the return of your father to the Blessed Realm, an attempt at rekindling what was never forged, is pursued.
“Leaving so early?”
Your mother’s voice reverberated through the morning air, clear yet carrying a stern undertone. The sun had ascended over the hills and forest, casting its benevolent warmth upon the damp, fertile earth, coaxing the crawlies to retreat to their hidden abodes.
Startled by her sudden intrusion, you jerked in surprise, twisting your neck to find your mother positioned in the doorway. Her hands firmly rested on her hips, already adorned with small flecks of clay and dust. A hasty bun confined her hair, and she wore the familiar work coveralls that marked her dedication to the tasks at hand. “Oh, you gave me a fright!” you awkwardly chuckled, your attention momentarily diverted from the contents of your basket. “I’m... heading out.”
Her bare feet made no sound on the polished floorings as she traversed the distance, positioning herself beside you. With keen observation, she watched as you hastened your packaging, attempting to conceal the contents within the basket. Despite your efforts, you weren’t as clever as you believed. However, she remained silent, extending her left hand to rest against your waist. Leaning in, she placed a tender kiss on your cheek.
“At least be safe on the road. You can borrow a few of my cloaks, they’ll keep you warm, and good luck. I cannot tell you how to decide, but when you do, know that it is something you will have to live with.”
Suddenly, she vanished through the backdoor, setting you on the arduous path to Formenos after brief stops at Tirion’s market to procure supplies. Pastries, breads, salted meats, and fruits were gathered in an attempt to ease any potential awkwardness.
Alone on the road for five days, you revisited regions where you had once stealthily ventured. The surroundings were steeped in familiarity as you leisurely strolled by. The rhythmic clopping of your horse’s hooves on the gravelled road, the subtle rustling of trees and bushes, vast open fields where the wind hummed its tune, and the delightful symphony of birdsong and frog croaks accompanied your journey. Small creatures scurried at the feet of your horse, some perching on your shoulders or head. Nightfall descended, only to be swiftly replaced by the break of day, marking the conclusion of your expedition.
As you arrived at your destination, the wear and tear on the landscape became evident. Paint had faded, stones were missing from pillars and posts, wood showed signs of decay, and windows lay shattered. Face-to-face with the relentless march of time and the scars of neglect, you confronted the tangible evidence of one’s transgressions.
Dismounting from your majestic stallion, you carefully secured him to an apple tree before continuing on foot. The path led you through a gateway and into a garden adorned with a subtle array of colours—some signs of life still blossoming. Your keen eyes noticed the adjustments since your last visit, becoming attuned to the intense presence and weight that the surroundings now bore.
With each step, the gravel and dust beneath your sandals resonated against the cobblestone, creating a symphony of soft crunches until you abruptly halted before the colossal red door, proudly displaying the house sigil in shimmering gold. Tightening your grip on the basket and assuming a more composed posture, a sense of tension gripped your throat, akin to barbed wires constricting around it.
Summoning your courage, you knocked on the door, the sound echoing three times in tandem with the palpitations of your heart.
Initially, it seemed like no one was home, but an imposing presence lingered in the air, prompting you to raise your hand for another attempt. However, before your knuckles could make contact, the hinges groaned, and a towering figure emerged. A giant of an elf with fiery red hair and silvery eyes loomed before you, meeting your tentative gaze. While a hunch suggested his identity, he was not the person you had come to meet. An acute observation of his appearance left you trembling at your core.
His features were the same as the portraits hung in your mother’s workshop, a stark difference to the descriptions your uncle Arafinwë explained. There were no scars, missing ligament or whitening of his hair, but it was still enough to elicit fright in your bones. The stories were enough, running their course to remind all of his actions.
“No trespassing, this is private property. Whatever business you are conducting, take it elsewhere,” he muttered under his breath with emptiness in his eyes before shuffling to slam the door in your face.
Luckily, you stuck your hand out. “Wait, please don’t! I uh…” you fumbled and exhaled, “I came to speak with Lord Fëanáro. Is he in?”
“If you are here to lay blame on him for his actions, I would suggest that you get in line—”
Waving your hands frantically in his face, you panicked. “No, no, no, no! You have it all wrong. I’m not here for that; I’m here to simply speak with him.”
“Speak with him?” Maedhros meditated. “Did King Arafinwë send you?”
Your eyes widened in disbelief at the surprising intensity with which your own brother reacted to your simple desire to speak with his father. It was truly perplexing that, despite all that had transpired, he continued to share living quarters with Fëanáro. Your assumption that their relationship had soured after recent events was swiftly proven incorrect.
Clearly, his perspectives on Fëanáro differed significantly from yours, and he held personal convictions that he preferred to keep to himself. The intricacies of their business remained shrouded in mystery.
“Uncl—King Arafinwë did not send me, I sent myself,” you stated with pride, straightening out any fears in your posture and stretching a confident smile across your lips. “Can you tell him that a…a Lady Y/N is here to speak with him?”
The moment your name fell past your lips, you saw the micro-expression of your brother’s eyes widening before composing themselves. His stance changed from no longer blocking the entire doorway to standing aside and granting you a peek inside. You were half expecting him to make a scene, yet he proved otherwise.
Maedhros’ eyes fluttered and flickered around your frame, contemplating on his next decision. Exhaling, he stepped outside, shutting the door behind and ushered around you figure to the left of the house. “He’s situated on this side of the house. It’s quicker and less…obstructive. Follow me.” And you partially understood what he meant—the bloodstains from where your grandfather was slain, still staining the floors. However, it was the unwarranted meet-and-greet of the rest of your brothers.
You weren’t here for them, and Maedhros was kind enough to spare you.
The journey unfolded in a discomforting silence, compelling you to tighten your grip on the basket as the minutes passed. Your elder brother guided you through a labyrinth of twists and turns, eventually leading to the distant sounds of a babbling stream and the faint rustling of paper being crumpled. As you approached an archway, entwined and covered in an overgrowth of vines, the scene unfolded before you—Fëanáro, seated on a bench, holding a charcoal, and engrossed in fervent scribbling on parchment, an expression of exasperation etched across his features.
Despite the openness of the surroundings, the air felt stifling. The heavens above offered a solution to wash away the lingering muskiness, and yet, it persisted. How could anyone discover peace or find reprieve in such conditions?
“I’ll leave you to speak with him.” He offered a polite smile, and with a bow of his head, Maedhros departed, leaving you to face his father in privacy.
Acknowledging the bow with a graceful return, you redirected your attention towards the man seated on the weathered wooden bench. His appearance had undergone a noticeable transformation since your initial encounter—his once neatly tied hair now cascaded loosely, and his attire, less polished, resembled something reminiscent of what your mother wore when she was in her element. Absent were the ornate rings that had adorned his fingers, and there was a notable absence of any jewellery embellishing his clothing. In this particular moment, he existed simply as Fëanáro, the man who had seemingly returned from the realm of the deceased. The elf who had…
“How long will you linger in the shadows, child?” came his soft voice. It was much mellow that the confrontation shared with your mother.
Taking a large gulp of air, you crossed the archway, entered his space to stand at the entrance and called out. “Greetings Lord Fëanáro.”
A resounding cry escaped his lips the moment his eyes fell upon your timid figure. Joy and agony intertwined in his heart as he realized that his child had come to visit him. With a swift, almost spring-like motion, he abandoned his seat, forgetting the letter that lay there, and hurried over to stand before your magnificence. It was the first time he had a clear image of the daughter he had denied himself the knowledge of. In your features, he saw not just you but also your mother and the reflection of his eldest.
An intense yearning surged within him, a desire to reach out and grasp you, to finally experience the touch of a creation that bore no marks of his mistakes. However, hesitation gripped his mind, as the unexpected loomed overhead like ominous clouds threatening to unleash a storm. The uncertainty lingered, questioning whether the rain would be cold or warm, if it would bring wrath or peace—or perhaps an outburst of everything.
“You…” He laughed breathlessly with disbelief at the tip of his tongue. “You’re all grown up. I was told about you during my return, unsure if a meeting would occur. I had glimpsed you at your mother’s, hoping to be acquainted. Unfortunately, I had not been blessed.”
“Hm, I decided to come see you on my own after…” your voice trailed off, indicating his reunion with your mother. “Well, she had the inclination that I was coming to see you, yet she did not stop me. I wanted to hear from you on my own.”
His facial muscles engaged in a silent struggle, battling the instinct to react to every nuance of your words. His hands, twitching with the desire to pull you into a comforting embrace, held back, understanding that such a gesture might inflict more harm than healing. Your perceptions of him were coloured by his transgressions. You possessed ample reasons to maintain a distance, not just from him, but also from your own brothers.
“What is there for me to tell you when you are aware of everything, my child?” he responded with reservation.
“Why?”
Your question lingered in the air, a stain that defied any attempts at removal; not even the heavens’ rain could cleanse it.
One question. Millions of reasons. One answer, and yet, he chose to walk away with his back turned and head hung in shame. His body collided with the bench with his head in his hands facing the floor.
“What answer might I give to you that would satisfy your perspective of me?” he uttered. “You’ve heard it all; I chose the Silmarils over my family… Why you ask? Pride, maybe arrogance or my blind foolishness. I led my children into death and one by one I watched them succumb to the same madness as me.”
“But you have me who was spared from the doom. I exist, someone you can change for. Someone who can be the answer to why.” Were the words wanting to spill from your lips, however, now was not the time. There was much to be possibly kindled to know how much your words weighed.
Stepping closer to where he sat hunched, you placed the basket beside him and knelt. Your hands were hesitant to touch his, but you managed to pry them off his face. “You know, there’s a saying that ammë says,” you whispered akin to the wind, “it’s something along the lines of, ‘second chances don’t come around often, but when they do, they appear in mysterious ways. It’s only if you desire it, then possibilities will arise’. If you want forgiveness, you can start with me. Show me the you who wants better.”
Fëanáro lifted his head, his mismatch teary eyes locking on your compassionate ones. He was stunned at your sympathy when his wife would not spare him the chance. If only he had not been so foolish, the family he desired would have existed before his very eyes. “You do not truly mean your words? Your mother would not pardon me—”
“I am not ammë; your quarrel with her is between you both. I am Y/N and this is between us. I choose to try building this relationship so long as you work with me,” you corrected with confidence laced in your voice. Your eyes were stern, filled with assertiveness and the reflection of faces you’d never met. “You have to want this.”
He considered with sorrowful eyes, too fearful of repeating his past and ruining his last blessing. With deliberate actions, he shifted to sit upright and meet you head-on. “Then I make no promises...no oaths.”
“Good, because I was prepared to convince you anyway possible since I brought treats for us to indulge, and I would hate for them to waste.” Your eyes darted to the basket filled with delicacies for you both to snack on during your formal meet-and-greet. “Imagine how awkward it would be had you rejected, and I had to return with a filled basket of treats.”
“You could have left it with your brothers. I’m sure they would be thrilled to learn their sister brought treats for them.” Fëanáro felt a surge of pride at the flow of your interactions, lacking awkwardness and tension. It gave him a sense of purpose to understand that all good things were not lost.
Though his refusal to utter the words of “Thanks” remained in his heart, for he knew Eru had heard and seen his gratitude.
Snickering as you reached for the basket to produce a blanket, you threw him a whimsical side eye. “I doubt that. You should have seen how the giant redhead was staring at me. I thought I was about to be thrown like a javelin out the yard,” you giggled.
“Maitimo?”
“Ay, I thought he was going to toss me out! Though it seems that the others are here as well?”
“Would you be willing to meet them?”
“Maybe another time, I only came with enough energy to deal with you.”
Masterlist
Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @mysticmoomin @rain-on-my-umbrella @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @sakurayaxd @ladyenchanted @involuntaryspasms @stormchaser819 @aconstructofamind @addaigio @lamemaster @hermaeuswhora
#feanor#feanor x reader#feanor imagine#feanor x daughter!reader#silmarillion x reader#silmarillion imagine#silmarillion fic#silmarillion scenario#middle earth x reader#middle earth imagine#middle earth fic#house of feanor#fëanor#fëanáro#curufinwë#house of finwe#feanorians#x reader insert#soft angst#angst/comfort#silmarillion#doodlepops writings ✨
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"Don't Touch Me" (Loki x F!Reader)
Summary: Cursed with the power of necrogenesis, you are held captive by the Avengers, who think you are too much of a threat to be allowed to roam free. When they decide to give you a chance to prove yourself, they entrust your care to Loki, who whisks you away to a safe house in New Asgard.
Pairing: Soft!Loki x Captive!Reader
Content Warning: angst, comfort, smut (18+ ONLY), reader is a prisoner, Soft!Dom!Loki, narratophilia, magic bondage (soft), praise kink
Word Count: 5.1k
**Please reblog this if you like it! Thank you!**
Hours?
Days?
Weeks?
For all you knew, it had been a year since your capture.
Three years prior, you’d woken one not-so-fine morning to discover that everything died at the slightest touch of your finger. Whether it was a plant, animal, or person, nothing alive was safe from you. You didn't know how or why it was you, but the fact was: it was you. You went from normal insurance claims adjuster to reaper overnight. It was no small thing to get used to.
You shut yourself away, learned to make friends online and in other countries whom you would never meet in person, tell the pizza guy to leave it outside (money’s in the mail slot), and to put the idea that you;d ever meet a man out of your head forever. You had yet to kill a human, thankfully, but every day you felt the anxiety build within your chest as you knew that record couldn’t possibly remain ‘zero’ forever.
You were a monster. The best thing for a monster to do was to hide in its cave.
Yet, you’d managed three years of hiding, wearing leather gloves from the second you awoke to the second you went to bed (aside from in the shower, of course), and staying as far away from cities as you could. Perhaps, given how introverted you were naturally, you could live a quiet life in peaceful solitude. You were considering buying a cabin in the Appalachians, near a waterfall or a creek one day. It would be lonely, but at least you would be free and unafraid of accidentally killing someone who insisted on shaking your bare hand. The little town in Connecticut where you were keeping a low profile was close enough to NYC that you could see the light pollution on the southern horizon at night, and it would do for the time being.
Unfortunately, your time ended. A surveillance camera had caught an accident of yours in a local park, where one of your gloves had blown off and flown down a path, and in chase, you’d tripped and tried to grab onto a tree branch to stop your fall.
The entire tree came down behind you, barely missing your body, dead as if it had been dried up for centuries in the blink of an eye.
That tape had made it to the eyes of Nick Fury himself over the course of only a few hours. The Team moved in on you on a typical Monday morning, just as you pulled on your gloves, ready to leave the apartment for work. What else could you have done but pulled off your gloves in an attempt to defend yourself? Despite being unable to take out any of your assailants, of which there were four, you’d taken out half of the park’s greenery, and a few unfortunate pigeons that couldn’t get out of your way as you stumbled and desperately scrambled away from the archer, the one with scraggly hair, the red witch, and the birdman.
Before you knew it, you were subdued and wrapped up tightly so that none of your skin below your chin was exposed, and you were taken to a solid glass holding cell somewhere underneath a compound in the Hudson valley: the headquarters for the New Avengers Initiative.
You were fed through a trick door in the side of the 12 x 12 cell (not that you were particularly hungry at any point). You were never taken out or touched, only handed sanitary items through the door and told to shower through a water spout that hung from the ceiling after most of the lab team studying you went home. Dr. Banner gave you 30 minutes without cameras trained on you every day.
Not that it mattered much. You still sat there day in and day out, refusing to speak or answer any of the thousands of questions about your powers that you didn’t want to answer. You refused to eat, and you did little more than sleep or sit on the ground, staring off into the middle-distance.
You began to get weaker, and that was when you first saw your champion.
It was none other than Loki of Asgard, the god who’d torn New York City apart, then played an integral part in stopping the end of the world at the hand (quite literally) of a god much bigger than he. While the rumor was that he still wasn’t considered fully trustworthy, his role in saving humanity was apparently enough to give him a spot on the Avengers squad.
On the morning he’d come down to the cell to get a look at you, he appeared tired, a bit annoyed to be there. “And what do you want me to do about her?”
“She’s a villain, she’s got your…um…background,” said Dr. Banner. “Perhaps she’ll talk to you. She will likely die in a few weeks if this continues. Something has to give.”
“So you called me forth from my respite to show me your latest trophy? Do you think I would approve of you taking captive someone who won’t even speak her name?” he asked, sounding less impressed and more disappointed. “What makes you think she has ill intentions?”
Loki rounded a corner with Dr. Banner, and he was finally in your view.
Your first impression was that he wasn’t quite as intimidating as you’d expected him to be. He was tall, but you’d anticipated a figure at least half a foot taller than what strode up to your cage, dressed in a black leather tunic, trimmed in gold, and form-fitting black trousers of the same color, tucked into green knee-length boots. His hair was tied in a tail at the nape of his neck, and several strands in the front were loose, framing his angular face. His eyes were intense and focused singularly on you as soon as he got you in his sights.
“Did she try to kill you?” he asked, making a beeline for you, standing up along the glass, watching you with interest as if you were a zoo animal.
“She did put up a fight. She may not have super serum strength or anything, but you try apprehending someone who can stop your heart with a flick,” Banner explained.
“And I trust you explained to her what was happening, and gave her the chance to come quietly?” Loki inquired, smiling gently at you, making you turn your head away bashfully.
“Well, no,” said Banner sheepishly. “We were under the impression it wasn’t going to be on the table. According to our intel, absolutely anything she touches dies before it hits the ground, you understand.”
“It sounds as if you wouldn’t have known either way,” scoffed Loki, getting down onto his knee, bringing his eye level closer to the floor, closer to you. “And you all think I’m the bad one. At least I eventually called my sins what they were and changed my ways.”
Banner shrugged. “Well, I’ll leave you to it,” he said. “Maybe if you can get her to talk, we can consider getting her out of there.”
Loki nodded. “I will do my best, and I won’t treat her like a war criminal for defending herself in the process.”
The doctor left the god alone, dimming the harsh fluorescent lights, making the environment slightly more comfortable.
He smiled at you, and even though you knew he was in earnest, something about the sharpness of his grin, the unnatural whiteness of his teeth, gave him an air of sinister jest. You were still afraid to look him in the eye as he shifted around the cage next to where you leaned against the glass.
You heard three light taps by your right ear, making you flinch.
“Hello, there,” whispered a soft, deep voice. “Please don’t be frightened of me. I’m not frightened of you.”
You finally used your voice for the first time in ages, compelled to respond to your dashing jailer without even really thinking on it. “That’s because of the glass.”
“I’m sorry? These walls are thick, would you mind terribly speaking up?”
“The glass,” you repeated. “If we were on the same side, you’d be afraid of me.”
“Forgive me, Miss,” Loki replied, “But I’ve been told enough about you to pass judgment on that, and I say, you aren’t a danger.”
“But how can you tell?” you asked meekly, feeling a tear at the corner of your eye, quickly blinking it back. It was remarkable at how fraught your situation felt: it was enough to extract intense emotions out of every single word you said.
“Darling,” your ally leaned in, as if to whisper a gentle secret in your ear, “I trust my instinct. You look about as helpless as a gosling. I can see how the skin on your neck trembles.”
“I don't know why or how this happened. Please don’t expect answers,” you pleaded. “Please, tell them to let me go.”
Loki sighed and looked down. “My word isn’t, as of yet, in the best position here, though I am working on it, I assure you.”
“Please,” you said, the desperation in your voice losing intensity, giving way to an exhausted weakness. “Please, help me. I just want to live alone where I can’t hurt anyone. I won’t ever go looking for trouble, I swear--”
“--ssh, I know, pet, I know,” Loki said quietly. “Cease worrying. Loki will take care of you.”
Loki will take care of you.
The sentence, particularly its’ delivery, made goosebumps rise along your arms, although you felt them appear for a reason you didn’t quite find familiar at first.
He stayed with you for nearly twelve hours, taking his meals with you, talking gently about inconsequential matters to distract you from your circumstances.
When he was finally forced away so that you could have your evening shower, he turned back one last time before leaving. “I will always be back for you,” he vowed. “Y/N, you’ll be free by morning.”
For the first time since your arrest, you slept soundly, your angular, Asgardian savior filling your dreams with feelings of safety and love.
Loki had promised your freedom by morning. He was true to his word.
“Look, I don't exactly feel confident in letting you two go off into the wild blue yonder to cause havoc,” said the imposing Nick Fury, who, quite frankly, frightened the ever living hell out of you. “I was ultimately convinced,” he looked bitterly at Loki, who shrugged innocently, “but there are terms. If I get wind of either of you sneezing without permission, you both come right back here and get thrown into the motherfucking dungeon.”
“We don’t have a dungeon,” Loki mumbled, a smart-ass grin rolling across his face to try and break the tension. You smiled for the first time in a long, long while.
“Watch it, Laufeyson,” said Fury. “You’re the one sailing this boat. Don't sink it.”
Neither of you wanted to arouse his ire any further, so you decided to quietly slip away and out of the city, taking a quinjet being flown by Banner out to a place you’d never realized existed.
“New Asgard,” your handsome escort explained as you began your descent. “The survivors among my people settled here after the fall of our homeworld and the slaughter we faced when we tried to escape. There aren’t many. It is…regrettably…a bit spartan.”
“Better than that terrible cell,” you answered softly, barely audible. Loki, with the natural hearing of a god, still made out what you’d said, and he gently took your hand and gave it a squeeze, making your heart flutter when you looked into his promising blue eyes.
Indeed, the place was no bigger than a fishing village. In fact, that was essentially what it was. Even Loki scrunched his nose at the sight as you disembarked and let Banner fly off with the plane. Loki had never let go of your hand, and each of you had a small bag slung over your opposite shoulders.
“Welcome to New Asgard,” he said, a bit of disappointment lacing his tone. “We are going to be staying here until Fury sees fit to declare us tame enough to come home.”
You walked up a path to the small town square, every house basic in construction small in scale, and underwhelming in neighborly feeling. Most of the Asgardians were dressed in heavy knitted sweaters and boots and kept their heads down and eyes on their work.
“Weren’t you their prince?” you asked quietly. “Why aren’t they bowing?”
Loki sighed. “Our system of government has changed somewhat since relocating,” he said. “Also, the present King isn’t exactly fond of me.”
You decided to take things one moment at a time (there were too many conflicting emotions swimming in your head to warrant fixating on one anyway), and to let his cryptic comments go. You were going to be here for a long time, so perhaps it was best to let it go. Loki would open up to you in time.
You were nearly knocked over by two children running in chase around you as you meandered. Loki grunted, but remained soft for your sake. “We will need to inform these people, however, to mind themselves around you,” he said, holding back his annoyance.
“Even if it happened by accident, I couldn’t live with myself,” you mentioned.
Loki stopped you and scooped a hand under your chin, looking you in the eye with warm assurance that also had an air of dominance to it, almost like an attractive young school teacher, stern but also kind in his insistence for your obedience.
“Yes, you can, and that is why we are here together,” he said. “Please remember that we are here to help each other, and I am here to protect you.”
“It’s them that need protection from me,” you moaned, disheartened. “If it weren’t for the gloves…” you trailed off.
Loki shook his head and let you go. He tapped your glove. “These will be coming off. Today.”
“No!” you said quickly. “Please, Loki, don’t expose me to everyone like that.”
Your escort shook his head. “Let’s get inside and discuss this. I do believe rain is coming.”
He was correct. Just as the pair of you found your small hovel towards the far end of the shoreline, a chilly splattering of precipitation began to fall about you. Taking out a brass key, he brought you inside, taking your rucksack and tossing it by the bedroom door carelessly.
The cabin was one three rooms: a living room, a bedroom, and a kitchen barely big enough for two people to turn around in. The bathroom also hardly had enough room for a human-sized creature to stand comfortably, as it was about the side of a phone booth plus perhaps a few square feet. There were furnishings, but the sofas, chairs, and tables all look like they’d been scavenged from an old lady’s garage sale at best.
The bedroom only had one large bed, taking up most of the minimal space by itself.
You stood, stupefied, in the middle of the room as Loki observed. You kept your gloved hands close to your chest as you anxiously looked around.
“You may as well get comfortable while I make us some tea,” Loki suggested. “This miniscule cottage is our indefinite home.”
You sat quietly, refusing to move your hands as Loki set up a small tea set he found in the cabinets, taking the steaming kettle to your cup, and in a moment, the smell of peppermint filled your nostrils, putting you slightly more at ease.
He sat beside you, not touching anything on his side of the table, instead bringing the attention back to you once again. He was like an explorer discovering new territory; he needed to know everything about you.
“Pet, I will wait until you are comfortable removing them, but I would like to see them come off today,” he said, again with that attractive stern-but-kind tone that was beginning to make more than your heart flutter. “I would like to feel your skin on mine.”
“You wish to die, then. I can’t control it,” you said quietly, looking away.
“That’s merely because you were never given the opportunity to see if you could,” said Loki, absentmindedly holding out a hand, making you shrink back reflexively.
“Please, don't touch me!”
Loki quickly withdrew, giving you your space and shrinking toward the opposite end of the couch. You couldn’t help but notice he looked a little hurt. “I…I’m very sorry,” you apologized, hoping you didn’t scare off your guardian. “You’re wonderful, and I can’t be the one to take your life, even by accident,” you blurted out.
Loki bit his lip, looking at you again. “Wonderful?”
You nodded. “I believe you when you say you’re not afraid of me. But…I am, okay? I’m a monster.”
He sighed, thinking for a moment on what to say next. “I know monsters. I’ve met them, slain them…you are no monster.” His gentle words filled you with warmth. “And furthermore,” he continued, “I would allow you to touch me, barehanded, right here and now.”
“No.”
You felt his hand on your shoulder, lithe but steady. “The thing about magic, Y/N, is that no matter what form it comes in, what you see is never the complete picture. Any and all magic can be trained, whether to contain or expand.”
You twiddled your thumbs nervously. “I don’t even know where this came from, so how can I know what the key is to controlling it?”
“Willpower,” Loki said, matter-of-factly. “It’s simply how any magic works.”
Loki had stealthily shifted so that your outer thighs were touching, and you were more than a little aware of it. Then, you looked up at your helper just as he brushed a strand of hair away from your brow, tucking it behind your ear, making you sigh a little.
“Ms Y/N, am I startling you?” he asked. “I don’t want you feeling ill at ease with me.”
You didn’t reply.
“If I had to be sent out to a wooden box in the middle of a Norwegian mud pile, I must say I could not have found a more exquisite creature to share in my exile,” he whispered. “I only hope my saying so isn’t too forward.”
“It isn’t,” you answered bashfully. “Loki…I haven’t thanked you yet for what you’ve done for me. And…I think I know how I want to.”
It was as if Loki could read your thoughts, for it was here that he leaned in for your first kiss. You were timid at first, but seeing as it was your escort who initiated contact, you had nothing to worry about, so long as he remained the one to make the first move.
As you pulled apart, you went to remove your cardigan, but you felt Loki’s hand press against yours from through the leather glove you still wore.
“It is your own soft flesh I want feeling my muscles, your fingers I want exploring every part of me,” said Loki. “I have given you every dignity I could throughout this process, but if you cannot give me this one, we cannot--”
You whimpered, and Loki instantly regretted his words. “Y/N, I apologize!”
Shaking your head, you looked at him again, letting your lips perk up at the corners. “You’re right. And, although this has never happened to me before, I don’t want to…to miss out, you know? I just…what if I touch you in the wrong way by accident? If I jump or get nervous?”
Loki smiled. “If you’d really like to, I have an idea. Let me guide you along the way.”
“How?”
“I’ll simply communicate with you. Use my words to describe every gentle move I make. Would that suit you enough to give this a try? I must confess, with each passing moment, I just want to hold you more and more, and listen to your sweet cries--”
“--I…but…”
“There is one more thing we can try,” Loki suggested, brushing your eyebrow with his thumb before laying a sweet, shallow kiss on it. “I can bind you with magic. Softly bind you, so that if you needed to move away, you could, but the weight would be enough to keep you from inadvertently brushing against me with every twitch of pleasure I give to you.”
You felt a hot blush run up your face as the desire laced in between his words filled you with need.
“Wait…”
You took a deep breath and shut your eyes, tugging at the very tip of the ring finger of the glove on your right hand.
Loki ran a thumb across your hot cheek. “You must be brave. I believe in you.” His goddamned touch nearly made you break your concentration, but you were still able to slowly, gently, cautiously, pull off the glove, setting it on the table with a trembling hand.
“If this doesn’t work, I’ll die,” you said, your voice quaking.
Loki was smiling with enough confidence for you both. “There won’t be a need, pet.”
You raised your hand, keeping your eyes focused on Loki, who sat up straight, the kind, empathetic look in his eyes never wavering. If he was in fact nervous, he was a brilliant actor, because you were getting no impression that he felt any sort of peril in the moment.
Finally, you found enough courage to lift your bare hand and bring it in the general direction of your guide. For his part, Loki still did not flinch, even when you felt as if you were about to foolishly commit a murder.
“Loki, I’m sorry if this doesn’t work,” you said meekly, trusting your arm forward before you could change your mind, and closing your eyes.
You felt his cool skin make contact with the pads of your fingers after landing on his left cheek. You didn’t immediately open your eyes, instead waiting for the sound of a body hitting the floor, the sound of a final breath being forced out of the lungs, or the sensation of Loki’s skin going unnaturally cold.
The only thing you felt after several moments was a second set of fingers gently settling over your hand. You opened your eyes, and the tender sight of Loki holding your palm against his skin, his eyes closed as he genuinely savored your touch, was all you saw, and you suddenly felt fifty pounds lighter.
“Oh, Loki…” you sighed in relief. “You’re still here.”
“You don’t want me to die, and thus, I haven’t. Just as I said, yes?”
You smiled and slowly took your hand back so that you could remove your other glove, and with another quick breath, you placed each hand on each of Loki’s, curling your fingers in between his. “Still alive!” you said with a small smile as you finally began feeling at ease for the first time in three long, chaotic years.
“More alive than ever, little princess,” Loki said, leaning over and rewarding you with a longer, deeper kiss. It went electricity down your core, radiating down your legs. You were finally allowed to feel your yearnings, and now, tonight, you could finally act on them. You certainly couldn’t think of a more beautiful, gentle, sexy partner to give yourself to than Loki.
“I think I’m ready for you,” you whispered. “I…I really want you, Loki. You’re the first being to show me such tender kindness, especially after I became a ‘reaper.’”
Loki chuckled without breaking his seductive demeanor. “Is that what you call yourself? Well, princess,” he said, gracefully pulling you off of the sofa to your feet, “the only thing you shall be reaping are the rewards of your obedience to me.”
Smiling, thrilled at the sexy shift to Loki’s tone, you nodded. The god asked, “Y/N, we know your touch won’t destroy me, but would you still like for me to bind you?”
“Yes.” You weren’t agreeing solely out of fear for Loki’s safety, not any more. “Please, an..and please talk to me, too.”
“With pleasure, princess. You were so brave for me, you’ve earned it,” Loki said slowly, leading you to the large, simply-constructed bed and shutting the door behind him. “Now, lie down, no need to remove any clothes.”
You obeyed without a word, which pleased your bodyguard as he stood, towering over you as you lay supine on the mattress. “Good girl,” he said melodically, the voice warming your core, smooth as butter and low as a gentle hum. He snapped his fingers, and with a quick wipe of green mist, both of your clothes fell instantly away, and he now stood before you entirely naked, and you splayed before him similarly.
“My, your skin radiates with warm beauty! Raise your arms out and to the side, or whatever position you would feel best.” You did so, again, without a word, taking your wrists and laying them out at an angle, making your breasts pull apart from one another and creating a gap in between them.
He waved his hand and snapped again, and you felt your wrists go heavy, as if a sandbag was weighing them down. You could move them a little, and you got the feeling you could twist yourself free if needed (not that you wanted to), but you were still securely on the bed, pinned at the wrists and ankles, your legs spread apart, exposing your quickly-wettening pussy to the air as well as your partner.
Loki moaned with approval. “Now, if you need me to lift these, please say so. Understood, lovely?”
You nodded. “Yes, Loki. I’ll do anything.”
Loki looked thoroughly satisfied at your answer. “Oh, you are so obedient! A natural submissive,” he said happily. “It is fortune’s highest blessing to be sharing a bed and home with you tonight…”
He lowered himself over the bed. “May I climb over you and look down upon my conquest?”
You nodded. “Yes, Loki.”
He climbed between your legs, kneeling up between them, his solid, chiseled torso towering above you, intimidating you the perfect amount to thrill you. “Now, I’m going to nibble on that darling little space you have right…here…”
He lowered his head between your breasts, using tongue and teeth to stake his claim on your skin, leaving tiny marks that only nipped a little as he worked his glorious sex magic on you. Every nip, lick, and moan from him made your folds wetter, heavier, needier.
“Y/N, I’m going to touch you now, in this sensitive spot between your legs,” Loki narrated. “I won’t put a finger inside your passage, but I am going to enjoy drawing little figures between your lips and pinching your pleasure bud. And you are going to writhe under me, increasingly needy as pleasure builds up, throbbing for my release…”
You gasped in pleasant surprise as he almost immediately took a hand and inserted two exploratory fingers between your folds. “Norns, my girl is dripping with desire for me. My good girl wants to please her savior!” He pressed his erection against the inside of your thigh as if to display with pride how quickly he’d been turned on by how you were grinding your hips, bucking against his hand.
His silky sweet words echoed in your brain, delirious with arousal. You wanted him to sing these narrations to you over and over. His rich, deep voice was almost enough to send you over your edge. Every word, every action he took, drove you crazy with delightful ache. He fiddled with your clit like it was a tiny marble between his thumb and forefinger, and every flick or twitch of it made you moan and pull against your invisible restraints just enough to feel helplessly anchored in place.
“Y/N, you are so wet, so ready for me already,” he moaned. “I can’t wait any longer. I’m going to fill you with my cock, and you’ll feel your walls stretching around me as I enter you--”
True to his word again, Loki took himself into his palm, positioning himself above you, his tip at your entrance, then, gently, slowly, he thrusted forward, and you felt a slight pinch as he claimed your cunt. Indeed, it felt like every cell inside you had to stretch in order to sheath Loki’s god-sized cock, but the little bit of pain you felt in the moment was quickly washed away in the violent shudders of pre-orgasm tremors that were already reaching critical mass in your core.
Loki arched his back, immediately growling in pleasure as he began thrusting, picking up tempo, sliding up and down your slickened walls with just enough friction to urge him to the edge quicker than he anticipated.
“Damn, but I’m coming…”
You were close, and you knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out for you much longer. “How hard are you coming?” was the smutty question you chose to coax his orgasm from him. “Tell me please! What does it feel like being inside me, Loki?”
Loki grunted animalistically as he concentrated. “You’re milking my cum from me, girl, you’re about to be so full of my seed--”
With the help from his narration, you finally felt your orgasm thunder down your passage and shake your thighs, pushing a high-pitched whine from you as your mouth fell open and your eyes slammed shut.
“Ah! There she is! My good girl!”
Loki’s fall almost immediately followed, marked by four remarkably hard thrusts as he came inside you, his breath heavy and quick. He brought a hand down to your clit and gently massaged it as your orgasm poured out into the open.
“Yes, ride it out with me, that’s my girl,” Loki purred.
Once you both were spent, Loki took your magic bonds off of you. It was still light outside, but you both agreed you were exhausted from your romp, and that perhaps an hour’s nap before supper would be welcome. Still naked, you both went underneath the covers, Loki turning onto his stomach so that he could rest his head under your arm, using your shoulder as his pillow.
“For as long as we are here, you will have nothing to be afraid of, pet,” your lover promised.
“Nothing?” you asked hopefully, already knowing that the strong, wonderful god in your arms was going to protect you for as long as you needed him.
“Your death touch, you have nothing to fear, for it brings me to life,” he whispered softly in your ear. You sensed he was nodding off, and sure enough, with that, his head fell on your shoulder, his breath settling into a softer, quieter rhythm.
Loki will take care of you…
You took a hand and began combing it through his hair, once again enjoying the old-but-new sensation of something other than leather against your fingertips.
@lokisgoodgirl @sarahscribbles @xorpsbane @mischief2sarawr @mochie85 @muddyorbs @michelleleewise @joyful-enchantress @fictive-sl0th @lady-rose-moon @coldnique @chantsdemarins @glitterylokislut @kellatron55 @holdmytesseract @holymultiplefandomsbatman @peachyjinx @trickster-maiden
#loki#fanfiction#mcu#mcu loki#loki fanfiction#mcu fanfiction#loki laufeyson#loki x reader#loki/reader#loki smut#smut#fanfic#angst/comfort#soft!dom!loki#dom!loki#necrogenesis#avengers#mcu avengers#avengers fanfic#loki comfort fanfic
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Somebody give me Bowser being absolutely, and utterly afraid of falling in love again
Come on people don’t be scared to break hearts
After years of rejection, maybe Bowser is just good at faking confidence? maybe secretly he’s just as insecure as Luigi huuu? Ever thought of that (probably)
Like come on, give me Bowser, having not only a fuck no why him?!? mentality when he finds out that he fell for Luigi but also a ignoring all of these emotions and waiting for them to die, is the best course of action
What do you mean every time he looks at Luigi. There’s a little ember in his eyes?His eyes are red! There’s always an ember to them!!!
Give me moment’s of butterflies and bliss just for there to be a down spiral into panic and doubt. There’s no possible way that Luigi could love me after all of the things that I’ve done to him and his loved ones.
give me a Luigi falling head over heels for the Koopa and trying to figure out whether or not if Bowser likes him
Not only that give me Luigi going to Mario and peach for advice
“ I don’t know what to do. One moment he is complementing my outfit and then the next he’s calling my eyes to blue” (insert what the fuck face here)
Mario and his wife peach had to try really hard to convince Luigi that Bowser does like him, but for some reason he’s not doing anything about it
“ I know what heart struck looks like on bowsers face and he certainly looks at you that way weege”
But It wasn’t until peach mentions bowsers history of rejection in were both Mario brothers were like oooooooh *face slap*
Now, technically by this point Luigi can just ask Bowser onto a date, but that’s too easy, so how about instead Luigi just blatantly flirts with Bowser in hopes that Bowser would be the one to ask him on a date. Both Mario and peach agree to this idea thinking that he just needs a little nudge nudge
Even going as far as to comment on Luigis affection towards the king
Mario: “ you and Luigi made really good partners in this race, besides when he’s with me, peach or Daisy, I’ve never seen him have so much fun”
Peach: “ Luigi speaks very highly of you. It almost reminds me of the time of when he used to talk about Prince Peasley, that way” (this would’ve been one of the nail in the coffin. If it wasn’t for the fact that Bowser was unaware of Luigis crush on The bean Prince)
 This just leads everyone to be frustrated because all of the hints and Luigi’s moves are not working the way that they want it to. It wasn’t until Daisy mentioned that Bowser is one of the most stubborn people that they know and “if he has his mind set on some thing a.k.a. not letting his feelings affect him and Luigi’s friendship which he seems to value a lot then he’s probably going to fight tooth and nail to keep it that way”
Mario, peach and Luigi: ooooooh *face slap*
 this is in fact 100% true each and every single flirt or comment left Bowser spiraling finding himself laying awake at night thinking about all the wat ifs and the maybes only for him to remember that he had the same thoughts and hopes with peach only for them to shoot him right back at his face with the devastation
Also, give me Bowser trying to separate himself. his feelings for lu is getting so out of hand that he’s starting to imagine that the plumber is flirting with him! what delusion!!! (Smh)
Finally, with help from his best friend, Daisy Luigi, planned on to finally ask Bowser to go out with him romantically
Now, I don’t know about you, but that seems like a good place to insert a happy ending….
Ooooor
 I’m just saying! I’m just saying. maybe Bowser does try dating.…. Just other people aka someone that’s not Luigi
Luigi, finding this out is absolutely heartbroken (my poor boy what have I done?) thinking that maybe he waited too long that maybe him and his friends were wrong and that it was just him getting his hopes up because as we all remember, weege is familiar with rejection to
It isn’t until his dear friend Daisy, ever the hothead goes up to Bowser yelling at him for leading her bestie on and going on a date with some scamp
 Bowser is absolutely flabbergasted, but also over the moon yet also petrified, because he potentially ruined yet another possible happily ever after. Thankfully, Daisy knows what to do to fix this.
While all this is happening, Luigi unaware of his besties wereabouts is in his room, reading a bunch of sad romance novels that don’t have any happy endings. It isn’t until Luigi stands up to go get himself a snack that Luigi receives a text message from Bowser’s asking if they can meet up.
Luigi internally is flipping out because on one hand, he would love to see his Bowser, but on the other hand, he knows for a fact that Bowser his friend would want to talk about his date, and Luigi doesn’t know if he can handle that right now
But this is a Weege we’re talking about. He loves to be there for his friends and family, even if it would hurt him, so he reluctantly agreed.
Let’s say, Bowser invites Luigi to practice racing with him  in where you can immediately tell that there is an awkward tension in the air. Bowser is not to surprised by this, but Luigi is because as far as he knows, Bowser doesn’t know that he has feelings for him. (good Lord Daisy you better hope that Luigi doesn’t get upset at you for outing his emotions.)
They go on a race or two before taking a little break and getting back into the swing of their friendship, when Luigi decides that he would rather rip the bandage off, then painstakingly wait for Bowser’s to open up
Luigi tries his best, not to let his excitement show when Bowser says that him, and his date both agreed that a second one will not be happening. Even so, after hearing those words, lu very quickly made up his mind it might not be what him and Daisy planned, but if he waits any longer then Bowser’s next date might be the one to get to call him their’s a Luigi would rather fail from trying rather than not trying at all
Because the pain of never knowing what could’ve been hurt so much more than Bowser’s potential rejection
“ if you don’t mind, can I recommend someone for you to try a date with?”
“Oh?”
“Ya… you wouldn’t so happen to be interested in a little green plumber would you”?
 Bowser’s takes a moment to realize what just happened and it probably would’ve taken him longer if it wasn’t for the fact that Luigi started repeatedly saying sorry backpedaling try to fix what was starting to feel like a mistake (what can I say I’m a sucker for an anxious Angsty mess)
Bowser, surprisingly soft-spoken says yes, causing Luigi to look up at him. Shock is in his eyes before his smile meet them.
“Cool” Luigi would say as he tries to keep his smile on the down low but he can’t help it especially if Bowser‘s tail decides to  thump besides him
#luigi#luigi nintendo#bowuigi#bowser#bowigi#bowser x luigi#bowser and luigi#luigi x bowser#bowser nintendo#king koopa#luigi/bowser#bowser/luigi#luigi and bowser#if this idea sparks joy then by all means use it for your creativity#angst/comfort#happy ending#I can’t handle anything that’s just pure angst#And refuses to read anything that doesn’t have a happy ending#listen I read to escape reality and I don’t mind being reminded of it’s cold nature as long as there’s warmth in the end
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My wife, My everything
"The storm inside him was over, now all that was left was the comfort of being in the arms of his beloved"
Tw: Nsfw content, angst/confort
Author's note: Soo, I'ts been raining where I live again and it gave me some quitet and a bit of angst vibes. Long live rainy days💙. I written some scenarios like this one and I will post them later (I'm already writing one for Jushiro too).
_____________________________
It was past midnight and you were still in the bedroom waiting for shunsui but he still hadn't arrived and you were starting to get worried about his delay. He didn't usually take that long to come home unless he had gone somewhere but he used to let you know before he left so you wouldn't be worried, but he hadn't that night. You tried to go to the places where he used to go but no one had seen him. Your heart was only relieved when you went to the first division office and found him with his arms crossed on top of the table and his head in the middle of them hiding his face. You looked at him for a moment and you could see that he wasn't well, the empty drink bottles beside the table also cleared your doubts about what had happened.
"Shunsui? Is everything alright with you?"You crouched down next to him passing your hand over his back trying to get some response out of him
"Did you come to see me Y/n-chan ? I'm sorry for making you worry" His voice sounded like a distant and deep whisper
"It's okay, you were taking so long and since you hadn't said anything I came looking for you. What happened here?"
"Don't worry flower, I was just finishing some things but I already was on my way"He lift his head and looked at you with a sleepy face and a melancholy look
"...finishing some things, he say..." you thought after seeing the empty bottles next to him
"Have you been crying?"You put your hands up to his cheeks as you noticed his slightly dry and red eyes
"No, I'm fine. I probably ended up being careless with the drink again. Nanao will kill me if she finds out that I'm drinking at work" He laughed trying to hide it but you weren't convinced
"Come with me, I'll take you home. You don't look well at all "You tried to help him get up from the chair
He had some difficulty standing up straight so he leaned on you so he could walk straight. You opened the door and walked out with him leaning on you until you got home.
Already after you got home, you took him to the bedroom and sat him on the edge of the bed, you sat down next to him looking at his face that looked so haggard and melancholic. His eyes were blank and his face expressionless, you had never seen him like this before.
"Do you want to tell me what happened to you?"
"I don't want you to be sad Y/n-chan"He looked at you and gave you a slight smile
"I won't, I promise. Please tell me what you're feeling?"
"I'm not feeling good, not good at all. I just wish I had some company to drink with again, like old times"You realized at that moment that he was referring to the loss of his loved ones. "You know, I don't like to cry especially when you're around, a woman as beautiful as you shouldn't carry the pains of a man like me"
"Don’t say that, I promised to stay by your side and help you with these heavy burdens. You don't deserve this, you've been very strong all this time and you need someone by your side to support you and I'm that person, I'm your wife, don't forget about me"You said holding his hands
"I know my flower, but I just don't want you to suffer too, this pain is not something easy to bear"
"I know, but you don't have to keep everything to yourself. It destroys you and leaves you like this, and I don't like seeing you with a sad face. Come here"You pulled him into a hug putting his head next to your chest while you ran your fingers through his brown and wavy strands
You felt his body get lighter after a while, he seemed calmer now and the sparkle in his eyes was slowly returning. You couldn't help but give a little smile after seeing that he were feeling better, even though he was still feeling that pain in his chest. You just wanted to see him smile again
"Are you feeling better now ?"
"Yes, much better. Your chest really works miracles”He said in his usual perverted way
"You really don't change, even though you're suffering you don't miss an opportunity to make one of your jokes" You pushed him away from your chest
"But I'm praising you"
"Praising me? Oh shut up"You slap him on the shoulder and he laughed
You calmed the chaos in his heart and it was you he needed at that moment. Even though he lost a lot of people, life put you in his path with a purpose and that purpose was to help him be strong and smile again.
"Oh my, look at your clothes, take them off"
"Are you trying to start something Y/n?"He gave you a mischievous smile
"No, you just smell like booze and your clothes too"You sighed as you waited for him to take them off
"Fine, I'll do it now"He said starting to undress
You saw him taking off piece after piece and you reached out to take them. When you were turning to go put them in the laundry basket, you felt his hand grab you and turn you towards him to bring his lips together with yours. You were taken by surprise because of the sudden movement, your body fell apart in his arms and you ended up dropping his clothes on the floor. You placed your hands on his face and kissed him back slowly and passionately.
You couldn't tell if he was being overcome by drink or something else but when you looked into his eyes you saw more than just simple desire, you saw need and passion.
"I need you so much my flower"He whispered against your lips
"Shunsui I.."
You wanted to speak but he kissed you again making you forget anything else you were going to say at that moment. You ran your hands along his arms and then over his shoulders to steady yourself as you jumped into his lap. His hands held you and led you to the bed.
"I love you so much...you make me feel like this"He said as he brushed his lips over your neck
Your breathing started getting uneven and your body was starting to heat up. He took off the fabric that was covering your naked body and couldn't help but curl his lips in a smile after seeing the way you looked so perfect and the way you look at him as if you were telling him to continue what he was doing. He felt so good to have you and when he was drinking he didn't hold back especially when you were around him and even when you scolding him for drinking so much, he he thought you were perfect. It wasn't the first time the two of you had been in such a scenario, but it was the first time he'd admitted he wasn't well. He always remained calm and rarely spoke of his sorrows, as he did not want others to suffer too. As his wife, you learn how to read in his eyes what he was feeling, it was difficult at first but over the years you managed to better understand what his good days and his bad days were.
He started to trailed his lips down your neck to your collarbone as he lifted his gaze to meet any expression on your face. He continued to taste your skin until his lips reach between your thighs. The little stubble hairs scratched the skin on the inside of your thigh as he kissed your skin and down to your folds, you felt a shivers as he placed a kiss on your little bud.
He wrapped his arms around your thighs keeping you closer to his face, you moaned when you felt his lips leaving wet kisses on you. You held onto his brown strands as you rubbed your hips lightly against him, your back arched and you rolled your eyes in pleasure. His tongue in you was more than enough for you to feel your body give in to the desire and make you come, your vision was blurry and you could feel small drops of sweat falling down your forehead. Your legs tremble as his touch rushes in and you come moments later.
He leaned over you and kissed you, his lips felt so soft and full of love. You could taste the yourself and the sake he had drunk, you placed your hands on his cheeks as you followed his lips over and over again.
"You make me feel so good"You whispered between the kiss
"No... it's you, it's you that makes me feel good, my dear"He tasted your lips again and again while his hands roamed your body
He moved away from you for a moment so that he could remove the last piece of clothing he had left and he approached you again. He hugged your body close to his to keep you as close as possible so he could feel every corner of you as he filled you slowly. You ran your hands over his back digging your nails in here and there as you moaned his name in his ear and told him not to stop. He kissed your temple and held one of your thighs as he moved in and out of you. He wasn't being too fast or too slow, a balanced and intense pace was what made you arch your back and hold onto his shoulders.
"You are so perfect my dear y/n..."He whispered close to your ear
You felt a little tear poking out of the corner of your eye that was the response to all that emotion and his care for you. He looked at you and wiped it with his thumb and then kissed your forehead.
"I love you so much"You whispered as you felt another tear fall down your eye
He smiled and kissed you, you wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him closer. You needed him like he needed you, it was mutual and unbreakable.
You felt your insides tighten and your legs tremble and that's when you felt it coming.
"Come to me love"He said kissing your neck feeling your fluids drain out
You tipped your head back and moaned his name as you felt him come inside you shortly after. Both eyes met and you could see he looked much better now than before, your love colored his gaze.
"Are you feeling better my love?"You asked
"Yes. Thank you for everything Y/n-chan"He said showing his bright smile
"I love seeing that smile of yours, it makes me so happy too. Don't stop smiling my love"You ran your hand over his face
He held your hand and kissed it and then kissed your lips gently.
"Can I lie down on your chest, again?"He asked smiling at you
"You can, but don't you dare make any jokes of yours"You warned and he laughed
"Don't worry, I'm just going to get some sleep. I think I've had enough for today"
"Yeah, you're right"
He laid his head on your chest and you hugged him as you ran your fingers through his hair. You watched him as he fell asleep and soon after you fell asleep too.
"The storm inside him was over, now all that was left was the comfort of being in the arms of his beloved"
#bleach#bleach fandom#gotei 13#shunsui kyoraku#bleach imagines#bleach x reader#kyoraku shunsui x reader#smut writing#fluff/confort#angst/comfort#angst with a happy ending
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Baby Blue (13/25)
first/previous/next
BARRY SPITTING FACTS
Also I finally kind of know how to draw him, cause man - I was so stressed out anytime I drew him at the beginning of this AXVCBAS
#rottmnt#tmnt#comic#baby blue au#leonardo hamato#raphael hamato#donatello hamato#hamato michelangelo#baron draxum#angst/comfort
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Okay so like, I’ve never requested anything so I don’t really even expect you to see this lol. But likeeee, can I possibly request a Din Djarin x reader, where neither the reader or Din know Grogu has the armor under his robe that the armorer gave him, and something happens where Grogu gets hurt and they both lose their minds before getting to him and realizing little dude is just fine. Please and thank you 🥹
Ooooh this is a good prompt. Speaking of, if you've asked for one then it's probably on my to-do list, but i am slow🤡. plus, updates of AFS and a couple other things come before random drabbles.
Din Djarin x Female!Reader
Word Count: 1.7k (i dont think I'm capable of writing less than a thousand words apparently smh)
AT FAULT
"don't let fear make your decisions." -Michael G. Manning
The quarry was laid on his back as a pool of purple blood began to settle in the sand under him. The twi'lek was motionless and your breathing was finally starting to calm. In one arm you held Grogu who seemed nonplussed by the violence at hand and in your other you held the still smoking blaster. When you managed to tear your eyes off the quarry's body they lifted to land on Din who stood stiff on the other side of the body.
"What the kriff was that?" Din snapped. His entire body was drawn taut like a wired rope pulled to tight. He was nearly vibrating in place and the anger that leaked into his voice was palpable. "Karking⏤ what the hell do you think you're doing out here!?"
His tone made your already irritable mood worse. You stuck the rarely used blaster back into the holster at your thigh. "Apparently, saving you! Maybe show a little gratitude!"
"Grati⏤” The word wasn’t even able to leave Din’s mouth. He stormed forward, boots passing the dead quarry, until he stood right in front of you. Close enough that the Mandalorian was forcing you to tilt your head up to look at him. You knew he stood that close on purpose⏤ he wanted to tower over you right now. “The two of you could’ve gotten killed! I told you not to leave the Razor Crest!”
“We’ve been on that ship for two weeks straight, Din!” You argued. “We just wanted a little fresh air⏤”
“I told you this quarry was dangerous, I said⏤”
“All your quarries are dangerous, Din. You⏤”
“When I tell you to stay on the damn ship,” Din grabbed your by the arm not holding Grogu, “I expect you to kriffing listen. Dank farrik, cyar’ika.” The way he spat out your usual nickname made you wince. “I told you this quarry was bad news⏤”
“And I told you that you shouldn't have taken the bounty!” You yelled and tried to yank your arm free. Din held on tight, and Grogu began to babble worriedly in your arms. “I told you we should take a break! Take a breath! We all need it, even you. Especially, you!”
You yanked your arm back again and this time it broke free. Din settled on placing his hands on his hips, but you could still feel his anger radiating off of him. Tempers had been running high the last few weeks, stuck on a close quarter ship while stressing over the Empire being on your heels, and it seemed the two of you were finally letting it come to a head.
“It’s naive of you to think we have the time for a break.” Din seethed. “I take bounties so we can afford fuel to run, food to eat, and⏤” He shook his head, taking in a sharp breath before continuing. “You tell me to show you gratitude? Gratitude because you risked yours and Grogu’s life for me?” Din took one step toward you and you took two steps back so he stayed a foot or so away. He pointed to himself. “Everything I do, my only priority, is keeping you and Grogu safe. Away from the Empire. So, how about you show a little gratitude and stay on the damn ship when I tell you to.”
Grogu whined in your arms and you shifted him to the other in a poor attempt to console him. You weren’t ready to climb onto the Razor Crest quite yet. You weren’t done with this fight. Din’s anger and words only spurring you on further.
“You think I’m not grateful for all you do?” You spat. “Of course, I am, you ass! I just hate watching you burn yourself into the ground for us. You need to take care of yourself too, Din. That involves taking a break now and then! That’s why I suggested leaving this bounty untouched. I just want to help.”
Din nodded once then tilted his head. “Right. Yeah. Putting Grogu and yourself at risk was a lot of help. I feel much better. Thank you, cyar’ika.”
You scoffed, “You know what, Din? You are⏤”
The sound of an unfamiliar chuckle and your eyes snapped from the dark t-shape visor to the quarry sitting up with a menacing grin. It took less than a second. It happened so quickly that your mind couldn’t register the movements fast enough.
A blaster raised.
A blaster fired.
And, you didn’t have the time to spin away. The force of the blaster bolt knocked you right off your feet and onto the ground.
You heard Din scream, the sound hoarse and raw and broken, then you heard another blaster go off. As you laid on your back, you realized you weren’t hurting. Your back was a little sore from landing on it, but you didn’t feel the sharp burning pain of a blaster scorching through your skin. That’s when your brain finally clicked. That’s when you realized. Grogu. Oh, Maker. Grogu. Grogu, baby⏤ Your eyes snapped down to see the little boy’s eyes closed and the front of his robe was blackened from the blow.
The scream that filled the air this time was yours. You felt the sound reverberate in the base of your throat, it rattled your chest, but the only noise you could hear was the racing heartbeats that pounded in your ears. You sat up, cradling him to your chest, and you could feel gloved hands pawing at your arms. Someone was trying to take him⏤ someone was trying to take him from you. You screamed once more, your body shook, and a gloved hand cupped the side of your face. Nothing registered until you saw Grogu blink his big eyes open. Your breath caught in your throat. That same gloved hand pulled aside Grogu’s ruined robe and the telltale shine of beskar stared back up at you. A mudhorn adorning the plate that Grogu wore at the center of his chest.
Grogu let out a soft mumble and smiled up at you.
“Oh, thank the Maker.” Din breathed. “Cyar’ika. Cyar’ika? Cyari’ka!” A hand titled your face up, tearing your eyes away from Grogu who was wiggling in your tight grip. You met the dark t-shape visor of Din’s helmet. “Are you okay? Did it clip you? Are you hurt?”
You shook your head and opened your mouth, but all that came out was a ragged sob. Even after Din pulled you both into his arms, you continued to cry against his silver beskar plated chest until your own chest ached from how badly each sob racked your body. Grogu seemed content to be squashed between you and Din.
Hours later, in the quiet of hyperspace, Din sat in the pilot’s chair with you on his lap, cradled against his body, while you held Grogu tight to yours. It seemed since the incident Din refused to let either of you go, and you had no desire to complain. Having his arms wrapped around you while you watched Grogu sleep was the safest you had ever felt.
“I’m so sorry, Cyar’ika.” Din whispered. His unmodulated words were muffled by the way he rested his face at the top of your head⏤ buried his lips into your hair to continue peppering light kisses anywhere he had access. In this position, your head tucked under his, you couldn’t see his face. “I am so, so sorry.”
You shook your head lightly. When you spoke, your voice was ragged from screaming earlier, “No, I am. I should’ve listened to you, Din. I should’ve stayed on the ship.” Your eyes began to water again. “I almost got Grogu killed.”
“No. No, that wasn’t your fault. Ner mesh'la cyar'ika, ibic hara cuyir pal'vut.” Din mumbled the end of his sentence in Mando’a. “You were right. I shouldn’t have taken that bounty. I can’t lose the two of you and I’ve grown… obsessive in trying to protect you.”
“It’s worked. You’ve kept us safe. If I had listened to you⏤”
“You’re not prisoners. I can’t lock you away from the world because of my fear.” Din cut in. You let your free hand trace down the small bridge of Grogu’s nose and he scrunched it up at the contact while staying soundly in his sleep. Nothing Din would say could rid you of this guilt entirely. If he wanted to claim the mistake he could, but that didn’t make it any less your fault as well. “Please speak to me.”
You closed your eyes and lifted your head so you could press a kiss against Din’s throat. He shuddered and sighed at the touch. “Can we just agree that this is both of our faults?”
“We can.” Din shrugged, his arms tightened around you. “But I'd rather you not take any of the blame.”
“Yes, well, unfortunately as we’ve learned, I’m not good at listening.” You mumbled.
Din chuckled. “Good. I don’t want you to blindly listen to me. Your ideas are equally as good as mind, if not occasionally better.” He closed the space to press a soft kiss against yours. It was sweet and tender. Not a declaration of lust or desire, but a reassurance that you were there. Din broke away to whisper. “But if you could at least let me know when you are leaving the ship, I’d appreciate it.”
“Only if you promise to take us somewhere pretty soon.”
“I’m already ahead of you, cyar’ika.” As he spoke, his lips brushed against yours and you had no desire to lean back away from him. Din moved his hand and you could feel his hand brush against the side of your arm every time he soothingly rubbed Grogu’s head. “Crest is on route to Naboo.”
You pressed another light peck of your lips against his before leaning your head back down against his chest. Din settled his head back on top of yours, and you felt the soft caress of his thumb against your arm from the hand that was wrapped around you. Din pulled you and Grogu a hair closer, and you reveled in the silence of hyperspace.
"Also, when did Grogu get a mudhorn beskar chestplate?"
"Your guess is as good as mine."
mando'a translations
Ner mesh'la cyar'ika, ibic hara cuyir pal'vut.
[My beautiful darling, this sin is mine.]
#asks#feel free to ask me about anything!!#the mandalorian#din djarin#din djarin x you#din djarin x reader#mando x reader#mando x you#mandalorian x you#mandalorian x reader#grogu#angst/comfort#fluff
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Comforting Female Reader Who Has Experienced an Assault
Anon asked: Hey honey, I was too shy to ask off of anon... But do you think you could do some HC’s for the boys helping a f!reader who was previously sexually assaulted? I am having a really tough time right now. ( I am handling it all and I have people helping me too) it’s just really weird for me to deal with I guess Thank you sweet Ro!
rdr2 masterlist
I’m sorry to hear that stuff like that is happening to you but if you ever need someone to talk to just to vent or for advice you are always welcome to talk to me since I have experienced past sexual assaults and harassments. It’s always a no-judgment zone when talking to me fyi. Just remember everyone processes it differently but you are not alone and hopefully the people helping you are a strong support system.
I love you anon and I hope these make you feel better.
I chose almost all the males I usually write for because they would all kill/die for the ones they love.
Originally published on February 11, 2020
*Speaking to everyone who reads this: These can be taken as platonic relationships or romantic. Just know I am not romanticizing the issue. There will be solid advice. There will be dumb advice. These are after all my headcanons for how I think they would treat the issue with a fem!reader (I think with a male!reader they would act just a little bit differently. This is a sensitive topic so please read the warnings and just remember you are all loved.
Warnings: Angst, PTSD, fluff, mentions of past sexual assault
Hosea Matthews-
He would hear this from you directly
Would be shocked before he drops everything in order to listen to you
If you don’t wanna talk about it he won’t push you but he will hint that it may make you feel better
If it happened all in the past he would piece together some of your tendencies that relate to the assault, what you tend to avoid and whatnot, and basically, he’ll help you so nothing at the camp will trigger you
If it happened more recently he will try and urge you to tell him who it is so he can sick the boys on them, without your knowledge of course
He’ll just say “It’s been taken care of Sweetheart. No need to worry about it.”
Hosea is the most caring one out of them all and will constantly check up on you, see how you are doing/feeling, will get you whatever you want whenever you want, and more importantly will always put others in their place if he feels they are getting on your nerves or are crossing boundaries
If you do daily talks he’ll always ask if it’s okay to hug you or hold your hand because he wants you to know desperately how much you mean to him and the gang
If he sees you heading down the wrong path, he will pick you up without a doubt. Orders you to take care of yourself and if you don’t listen to him, he will send Arthur and John the most awkward boys in the universe to go and talk you into doing the stuff he told you to do
He’ll do about anything you want in order for you to feel better and get past this traumatic experience
“We can’t change what happened to us. That’s all in the past. However, we can change how it affects us now. How we’ll go on in the future. Turn this into something to make you stronger.”
Dutch Van Der Linde-
Will deadass go on a rampage after learning you’ve been assaulted
All you have to say is that you got hurt by someone- He doesn’t need any details unless you want to fill up the rage he already has
He will hunt down whoever they are no matter where they are with most of the gang by his side, it doesn’t matter how long ago it was, he wants to see that bastard/bitch who did this to you in the ground
“And they will surely be dealt with” literally will be his words- Anyway after they are dealt with will he only focus on you
He’ll be careful with you and probably the most annoying thing he can and will do is, treat you like glass
It doesn’t matter anymore if this was in the past or more recently, he will make sure someone he trusts is by your side and preferably a woman so probably Miss Grimshaw
Eventually, he will realize that he is overdoing it but he will give you one of his speeches saying it’s only because he worries about you
You just gotta be upfront with him, tell him what you need and what you do not need, and he will fix himself after apologizing
Expect a lot more gifts from yours truly
By a lot, I mean a lot
He will make it rain jewelry for you if it means you know how much he cares
Can’t say that about the money though
If it still lingers over you he will without a doubt, try and help you through the process of at least accepting what happened well happened
“Try and focus on the now and make yourself better for the future” Or something along those lines would be his advice
Arthur Morgan-
Is a saint no matter what he says
You would have to tell him face-to-face and rather bluntly that you were assaulted. If you hint at it, he may take a moment before he realizes what you mean
He won’t act fast but he will sit down with you and have a talk with you
Of course, he wants to act, his blood would be boiling at the thought of someone even touching you without your consent but for your sake, he will take a breather and wait until you are done venting to him
He would treat you the same
He wouldn’t necessarily tread lightly on certain topics unless he sees that it makes you uncomfortable and omg if one of the boys dares to mess with you he will be on their ass in a hot second
Basically, he may hover but he won’t realize it since he’s treating you the same way as always
It’s up to you as well to decide the fate of who hurt you
If you want them dead, he’ll go do it in a heartbeat
If you want them beaten, he’ll go do it in a heartbeat
If you want them threatened, he’ll go do it in a heartbeat
If you don’t want anything done, he’ll just keep an eye on you and make sure you are faring well
When he’s not at camp he’ll have Hosea, John, or one of the ladies keep an eye on you
He makes sure that you know you can bother him for anything, he may be grumpy about it but he’ll do it just for you
If you’re having nightmares or just can’t sleep you can sleep on his cot and he’ll stay with you until you do fall asleep
If nothing works to make you feel better you bet your ass he’ll take you with him, on rides to town just to get you out and about
His last resort is letting you see his journal- That’s how you know this boy genuinely cares about you because no one touches the journal
“People are not so kind. But you are. What I’m tryin’ to say is don’t let that bastard/bitch put out your light. I care ‘bout ya.”
Charles Smith-
He would be the most understanding like Hosea
Would make sure that you are in a safe space mentally before he allows you to vent
Will reassure you that you are safe no matter what but he will want to get back at this person
It usually goes against his code for killing but he cares about you and no one deserves to get hurt like that so he will take time out of his day (probably go gather Arthur) and go and kill this person
Whether you wanted that or not he would have convinced you this person would probably have another person to prey on soon enough
Speaking of, he will remind you that you are not a victim but a survivor
He’ll be there for you all the way
If you need some company he’s there for you even if you don’t want to talk
Charles can and will be your rock if you need it
He’ll help pick you up and depending on if it’s okay with you, tell a selective few what happened so they can also help you
It may be cheesy but I can see Charles in this scenario making you say positive things about yourself in order to ward away the negative thoughts
“Repeat after me. I am a strong woman. I am resilient. I am a tiger.”
May or may not be making fun of Mr. Pearson at the last one in order to get you to laugh
Either way, he’ll make sure you to feed you positive lines almost every day
If you need to get out he’ll take you on nature rides and remind you out beautiful the world is despite how cruel the people are
He won’t exactly hover but he will be constantly glancing your way at camp to make sure you are all good
Tells you venting is actually good without needing to hear the advice
I forgot to mention it in the others but, all these males will make sure you know self-defense. They give you tips and tricks with each weapon of their choice that way no one will mess with you again
You can always rely on Charles to give you good advice though. Understands that sometimes you just need someone to rely on so you know you’re not alone
“I know you. You are strong and beautiful. Don’t give anyone the power to doubt yourself. Only you have that power.”
John Marston-
Is fucking awkward when it comes to this kind of thing
He will 100% see red as soon as you tell him and no matter what no one but Arthur, Dutch, and Hosea can stop him from going after the person who hurt you (and those three will join him tbh)
He is not the best to talk to about this so he’s okay if you just need the company
May take you to a saloon and get you a drink or two just to ease you, will not give you more
Honestly, I see John as completely awkward and not knowing what to do for this situation. He’s at a loss and if the problem (the person) has been dealt with wouldn’t know how to help you
He would go ask the girls how to cheer you up or make you feel better, go to Hosea would be a better option and would finally just ask you what you need and how so you don’t get stuck in your PTSD
Though he may understand but not in the way that is relatable. He’ll understand the nightmares and such but he won’t understand if you fear that person because his situations have always been near death
He will desperately try to understand you though
Will send Jack your way if that kid can cheer you up
“Well fuck, y’know I always have your back. Just- I um don’t let ‘em get to you.”
Javier Escuella-
This man would have no idea what to say at first
It’ll take him a minute to register before he asks if he can hug you- mostly to reassure himself that you are physically safe
Once that is done and over he will get straight to business and ask what you need
Murdering the person would cross his mind tbh but he’s too focused on you that he won’t ask till much later
If you need to clear your mind he’ll take you fishing, show you how to fish and have Hosea come along so it’s all positive vibes
He’ll write some songs and lullabies for you and serenade you to show you how much he cares
I honestly think Javi bottles everything up when it comes to himself so he’ll be more than happy to talk to you about your PTSD or share stories and even his own past if he deems it right by you
He would gut whoever you want like a fish for you btw
“Hermosa, you’re strength inspires me”
And it truly does
It takes a lot of guts to admit and accept what’s happened and even more to want to reach out for help
Javier would admire that and remind you whenever you need to hear it
Sean Macguire-
Ahaha if you thought John or Dutch had a short fuse for this- The minute he finds out he’s already spouting nonsense of them meeting their demise
And if you allow it or they are not dead he will surely make them have a terrible death
He would risk getting caught by bounty hunters again if that were the case
As for comforting you, this boy doesn’t exactly know how to do that
He laughs off his own traumatic experience so he’d probably be trying to get you to crack a smile or drink with him
Homeboy would try and get you to kill some bloody people for the fun of it ngl
Hopefully, his energy will rub off on you
I don’t really see him as the sitting down type but if he cares about you he is more than willing to listen to you and also more than willing to give you unwanted advice and a shite ton of his opinions
“Yer fuckin’ priceless. No mutherfucker hassa right to touch ye.”
He will end the speech with something gory I bet
*I was going to add Keiran and Lenny but I ran out of ideas but I hope the lovely lads I did write and their reactions/comfort help anyone who needs it
#softrozene writes#rdr2 x reader#red dead redemption 2 x reader#hosea matthews x reader#dutch van der linde x reader#arthur morgan x reader#charles smith x reader#john marston x reader#javier escuella x reader#sean macguire x reader#angst/comfort
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@jegulus-microfic | march 25 eyeliner | words: 819
tw: child abuse, blood, mentions of violence in the past
James was going mad, and it was all Walburga’s doing.
It all started when Regulus finally got out of this horrible imitation of a home. The boy was barely past his sixteenth birthday at the time; when he fell out of the Potters' fireplace, Regulus looked even worse than Sirius did the night he ran away. The older brother has been beaten up badly but could manage to stand on his own; on the other hand, the night the younger brother got out, he was fighting for a breath like a man drowning; his whole face was swollen and covered in blood.
When Regulus appeared in their living room, only James and Sirius were home. At the sight of him, they both panicked to the point where they forgot how to think. All Sirius could do was turn Regulus onto his back and hold his head so the younger boy wouldn’t choke on his own blood while crying and begging anyone who would listen to keep his baby brother alive. At the same time, James was running around the house, looking for something—anything—to help his best friend’s brother.
Thankfully, Effie and Monty arrived only a few minutes after Regulus, and as soon as they processed what was happening, they took all three boys to St. Mungo’s.
Not even a week later, Regulus looked like nothing had ever happened to him. At first, all he did around the house was eat, sleep, and argue with Sirius, but as time passed, the arguments turned into talks and helping each other. James didn’t have to ask to know the Black Brothers were trying to fix their relationship; he saw it in the way Sirius talked about Reggie and how he started bringing the younger boy with them on nights out and letting him into his own world. The change was noticeable in Regulus, too; he opened up a little, spent time with James’ parents, and started trying out muggle stuff like records, Polaroid, or cigarettes. Maybe James didn’t know him well, but he understood that those little things were important both for Sirius and Regulus.
In the first half of August, when Regulus was at their house for a little over a month, James found him sitting on a bench in their backyard. He was reading ‘Crime and Punishment’ Effie gave him, while James’ own copy waited to be read under his arm.
“Do you like it?” the Gryffindor asked, taking a seat next to Regulus.
The boy raised his head slowly, evidently reading the last few words on that page. When their eyes met, James literally lost his mind. Not only that, he also lost his ability to hear, feel, and think—everything except for seeing—because right there in front of him sat the boy he always found beautiful, yet at that moment James couldn’t come up with anything as mesmerising as Regulus’ silvery eyes outlined with heavy black. This mix must’ve outshined the star Regulus was named after. James felt like he could fly just by looking into those eyes; he started thinking of a son-
“Potter? Are you quite alright?” A gentle hand on his shoulder pulled James out of his haze. He blinked once, twice, and a third time for good measure before he closed his mouth (When did I even open them?), swallowed thickly, and mumbled something unintelligible. It was Regulus’ time to blink. After a second, the boy burst out into a loud laugh. “Oh god, Potter, come on! It’s just a little bit of eyeliner; Sirius wears it all the time!” Reg kept laughing, still holding James’ shoulder.
“Yeah,” the older boy managed to spit out when the other started calming down. “But he doesn’t look half as good as you do.” Regulus froze, the grin on his face turning into a sheepish little smile, a pretty pink creeping up his pale cheeks. “Oh,” James started, wondering why he’d said that. “I—I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable; I’m so, so very sorry, I—"
“That’s alright, James. I’m-“ The younger boy cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair nervously. “I’m glad you like it,” he finished, biting his lower lip and still smiling a bit.
James, whose smile was normally big and bright, smiled shyly at Regulus.
“Do you mind if I-?” he pointed at his book. The younger Black looked over at him and shook his head slightly.
“Not at all; we can discuss the story later, if you’d like?” It came out as a question more than a statement, so James nodded once and started reading from where he finished last night.
The silence surrounding them was comforting—just a little buzz of bugs flying around and wind rustling leaves on an apple tree a bit ahead of them. Surrounded by all of it and still slightly nervous from earlier, neither of them noticed the glances they were stealing at each other.
#jegulus#dead gay wizards#starchaser#james potter#james x regulus#regulus black#jegulus microfic#marauders#the marauders#walburga's a+ parenting#angst/comfort#by: allyeardepression#hogwarts au#fluff#hurt/comfort
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What once was
TW: Angst/Comfort(?)
| One-shots |
“Now ye’re just shittin’ me, Kyle,” Johnny laughs at Kyle who cheekily grinned back at him, he squeezed the plastic weapon in his hand, a toy gun, before turning his body to face Johnny, his shoulders shaking up and down as he chuckles.
“I’ve won Johnny boy, deal with it,” Kyle had won a bet between him and Johnny. Kyle had bet that he could shoot down more ducks that Johnny could in the little booth and win you a fluff toy, Johnny obviously loss with the way he pouted and huffed while crossing his arms, the gun on the booth table while Kyle placed his gun down before picking one of the big, fluffy animals that you’d like.
Simon stood next to you with John on the other side, one of John’s hand on your back while Simon had one of his arms draped over your shoulder. It was a small day out for you and your boys, acting like normal civvies and not the cold hearted soldiers you were on the battlefield.
Simon reaches over and adjusts your mask, your stoic eyes watching the two Sergeants bickering, Johnny saying that Kyle had cheated and Kyle trying to defend himself. Your heart fluttered with your boys that surrounded you, enjoying the fair with them, even though they somewhat just kidnapped you to come with them.
Your eyes scanned the crowd as John asks Simon to go with him and get some snacks for the five of you, Simon leaving with John to a food stand, leaving you alone by yourself.
Eyes widening you saw a couple.
They weren’t an ordinary couple, you knew him, you knew her, you knew the youngling.
You felt the air in your lungs tighten from the sudden higher pitched laughter that your ears picked up, every of your senses seem to be heightened as you can hear the couple talk to one another. Your hands clenched into a fist by your sides, you felt stiff, frozen though your body contrasted by shaking. You felt yourself gulp harshly as you let out a shaky breath behind your mask while a few droplets of sweat formed on your forehead.
Johnny nudges Kyle’s side, who was staring at a cotton candy stand, Kyle turning to look at Johnny before seeing your stiffed figure. Eyes following the family that were a couple of stands down.
Kyle and Johnny looked towards the food stand where John and Simon was, Simon feeling the gaze of the two, looked towards them before landing his eyes on you, he nudged Price.
The four men looked at one another before slowly making their way towards you, the silence loomed over the group once they reached you, staring at the family you’re staring at.
“Love?”
A pitiful squeak left your throat as you slightly flinch, your stoic eyes stared at Simon’s, glossed with a thin layer of tears. Your head snaps back at the sound of a young girl.
“Ma? Papa? Are we going to—”
“Yes, we always do.”
“Can we bring the necklace?”
The mother and father looked at their daughter with a sweet, solemn smile as they agree. The three of them passing the group and into the small forest trail.
Johnny turned to look at you but you hid behind Simon, the four clueless as to what was happening. A hand places itself behind your back and moves you forward to John, you breath still hitched as you stare up at your Captain and the others. Questions being fired away at you as you stay silent.
“Do ye know them?”
“What’s wrong, love?”
“We can leave, lovie.”
“Sweetheart?”
You merely stare at the path that the family took before you see them leave, your heart felt like it was being stabbed before you left the group of men, ignoring that they called out your name. The men knowing how you were, wanting space when memories came back, however this felt different so they followed you.
Your feet crunched underneath you as you walked towards the path, the noise ringing in your ears, though something spiked in you as your feet started to quicken its pace as your lungs burn from how heavy you breathed. You knew where you were heading because you have been there, you knew where this path lead.
The others still hot on your trail but enough to give you distance. They were so confused at your sudden change of demeanour, sure you were always unexpressive, seclusive, stoic but this was out of the blue. They continued to follow you but losing you in the process, your agility and speed beating theirs and the fact you knew where you needed and wanted to go. You had disappeared half way on the trail.
They called your name only receiving no response, the afternoon slowly turning to night.
“Where are they?” Gaz mumbled, a frown on his pretty face.
The four sighed as they continue to search before Soap yelled.
“I found ‘em” the three run towards Soap, a small clearing where you stood at the edge of the cliff.
They moved slowly towards you, the slight tremble on your shoulders had them shocked, were you crying? Simon slowly placed his hand onto your shoulder, your shaking stop as you turn towards the four, red eyes, your mask wet with tears, the stoic in your eyes were unlocked with emotions flooding them in.
“What’s going on?”
You grab your mask and lowered it down, a soft whimper escapes your lips, finally letting vulnerability in.
“That family. That’s my husband.”
The four glanced at one another, an unfaithful husband? They were shocked and confused but as they go to speak, you continued.
“That’s my wife.”
More shock, what was going on?
“My child.”
Hiccuping you shrugged Simon’s hand over your shoulder as you turn to look at the ground in front of you, your eyes glancing down.
“My family… my handsome husband, my beautiful wife, my little Sephy…” you choked on your words, covering your mouth with the back of your hand. Your eyes never leaving the view in front of you.
The four men still shocked but the realisation kicked in. You, their emotionless, stoic, soldier, had a family. They gathered around you, to comfort you, to ask you why you couldn’t just go back and greet them. That was until they saw the grey, all to familiar stone of a grave, the writing of your name, your title, your date of death, and a small quote that you had said.
The grave sat beautifully where the sun hits on the cliff, the shadows danced against the grass while a flower wreath, made by your favourite flowers sat perfectly on top of a wooden cross. The sides of your graves littered with pennies, a small bouquet rested on top of your grave and small trinkets and family photos littered around it. The new additions to the grave was a small, hand-made, bracelet made with colourful beads, fake, plastic gems and lettered blocks of your initials - along with a necklace that had your engravings on personal fake dog tags.
Your hand reaches for the bracelet, putting it on with the other two that you had on you. One from your wife that was given on your anniversary, a day after you had ‘died’. One from your husband that was given when he had married you both, a month since you had ‘died’. Now from your little girl, a year after you had ‘died’.
Your death was a sacrifice that you had took to protect the both of them and little Sephy. One where the enemy had kidnapped you, demanding information and threatening their lives. Guns to their heads, you’d remember, their tear stained faces, the whimpers and pleas to be let go. The explosion and fire. The screams of your name echoed the room as you went in flames, watching from a distance as your old squad takes them away from the scene. You were KIA.
Simon hugs you behind, sympathising you in a way as you both lost your family one way or another. The tears already stopped when you wrap your arm around his head, running your hand through the blonde’s hair.
“Love you.”
Your heart warmed at those words, even though they knew of your emotions towards love they never pressured you to say it back, you sigh as you return to a stoic demeanour. You appreciated their love and you would never change it.
You bump your head forehead against Simon’s which he does the same before hauling you towards the group, doing the same with their heads. A show of affection that you normally do with them, their comforting words making you calm as they tell you they love you, they’ll always be there for you, giving you all their love.
Even though you had your boys, sometimes those curious thoughts lingered in your mind if you had went back after the fire. To what once was…
A/N: …Uh— yeah
#cod-z#call of duty fanfiction#call of duty x reader#cod x reader#cod mw x reader#cod x you#modern warfare x reader#task force 141 x reader#141 x reader#cod fanfic#poly tf 141#poly 141 x reader#angst#angst with a happy ending#angst/comfort#call of duty fanfic#cod fandom#cod mw2 x reader#task force x reader#task force 141#tf 141#poly tf141#tf 141 x reader
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𝙎𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙞𝙣'
masterlist
Sypnosis | Onyakapon didn't get the childhood he deserved, but he doesn't see it. You do, and you want to help him. But how you do that if you won't let you?
wc | 4.7 k
c.w | hurt/comfort ig, talks of abusive childhood, breakdowns ig
Onyakapon x black! reader
A/N | Hey y'all, I'm sorry that I havent posted in so long so I hope this can make up for it. I love y'all and I hope you enjoy
If you asked about the of childhood Onyankopon had, he would say, “It was normal, nothin’ really special bout’ it.” And in his eyes, he was telling the truth. But from yours? You knew from deep in your soul that it was anything but normal.
He never got to be a kid who could come home and feel safe. He was the kid who out past when the street lights came out, for he knew that if he came home too soon, he would have to face the consequences.
He was the kid who got pulled from class to talk about his home life. He was the kid who could be the sweetest thing until you brought up his cuts and bruises. He was the kid who wasn’t taught how to handle his emotions correctly; instead only learning from his surroundings on how to feel nothing but anger. He was the kid who would throw chairs and push kids off swings at recess. He was the kid who didn’t get a savior when he needed it. He was the kid who needed to be taught how to live the way any functional person would.
He was a kid that needed to be loved.
So when he grew from a kid to the young man he is now, he struggles. He doesn’t know how to process his emotions the way an adult should. He doesn’t know how to do anything besides concave on himself or push his emotions until they boil to the surface. He doesn’t know how to just let someone love him the way he deserves to be loved.
But when the two of you met, you saw through it all. You saw that beneath all the cold stares, anger, and rough exterior, he was a just little boy who needed to be loved and taken care of; who needed the love and affection he didn’t get in his biggest time of need. And so you give it to him. All the kisses, hugs, and assuring words he so needs. You give all of it to him. But sometimes he can’t see how deeply the things that have been done to him affect him so deeply, and those are the times that he reverts back to his old ways.
“Y/n, I said it’s fine. Now chill the fuck out, you really startin’ to piss me off.”
You freeze, staring at him at shock. You know that he tended to divert the conversation when he felt as though the confrontation was building too high. But to straight up shut it down? You didn’t have the patience to deal with that bullshit.
“What is your problem? Why do you always shut the conversation down when you don’t want to talk anymore? Why do you feel so entitled to do that? You're not the only one who’s feelin’ some typa way.” You frown. You’re not one for any type of confrontation, shying away from it if possible, but the way your boyfriend has been acting really sets you off. And the thing that bothers you the most is that he wont talk to you about it.
“Didn’t I tell you to leave me alone? This conversation is done because I said it’s done. That’s it.” He says, glaring at you like you're a stranger.
“Why do you always do this? Why won’t you fucking talk to me? I am here, ony. I am here for you everything; why can’t you see that? That is what I’m here for, so I really can’t understand why as soon as you have a fucking problem you act like I’ll leave you if you come to me about it!”
He just stares, not knowing what to say. If he’s being honest, he knows that you’re there for him. You’ve shown him again and again that you love him with all your heart, shown him that you’re not going to leave.
But he’s scared.
He’s scared that if he tells you, you’ll leave him for being vulnerable, for being weak. He’s scared that if he shows you all of him, you won’t like it. He’s scared that if he gives you his heart, all of it; that you’ll throw it away.
So he just stares at you, he stares as his eyes start to well up with hot tears, as his throat closes and and his shoulders start to tense. He stares until you notice him crying, rushing to his side as a choked, painful sobs racks through his body.
You hold him as he cries into your arms, accepting your warm embrace. You rub his back as you sniffles and hiccups as you rock the both of you. You don’t even notice when you start crying, wiping the tears away as you focus on comforting the man in your arms. You tell him that it’s going to be okay, to let it all out. You clean his face with nothing but your sleeve as you whisper sweet nothings into his ears to soothe him of his pain. On the inside, you thank your past self for following onyokapon into the room. Scooching back an inch or two, you bring the thick comforter on the two of you as you fully lay down with him on the bed.
The two of you stay like this until its silent, simply opting to bask in each other's presence. Your eyes dart to him as he speaks with a murky, rough tone. “M’ sorry for always doin’ dumb shit. I don’t know why I’m like this.” He apologizes, snuggling further into your frame. “I don’t know how to talk sometimes, I get so fuckin’ angry and I shut everything down so that I don’t say anything I’ll regret later and I’m just sorry for puttin’ you through all my shit.”
You sigh, looking down at him. “I love you, onyankopon. I want to go through all your shit with you. I want to help you, I promise you that.” You say, hugging him closer to you. “Ion’ know why, m’ really fucked up.” He snorts, playing with the hairs on the back of your neck. “Nigga did you not hear what the hell I just said?” You laugh, gently stroking his cheek.
He looks at you gently, gazing upon all your features. From the beauty mark above your left eyebrow to the way your eyes glow a gentle brown when the moonlight shines on them. “I love you, y/n. Like without all that sappy shit, I wanna be with you forever.” He says, tired eyes looking up at you. “Why can’t we have all the sappy shit? I love me some sappy shit!” You joke, sending him a faux offending look.
He huffs, shaking his head. You don’t even realize it, but you help that little boy in him feel everything he was supposed to feel when he needed it the most . You help the little boy into him feel safe, happy, and protected.
You help that little boy in him feel loved.
-Nene
#nene#aot#x black reader#x reader#aot x reader#aot x black reader#onyankopon x reader#aot onyankopon#onyankopon x black y/n#angst/comfort#onyankopan angst#hurt/comfort
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