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redskull199987 · 7 months

Note

Plzz write fnaf Michael x femreader! It starts like a fluff and then smut👀

Lucky

Mike Schmidt x fem!reader Request Word Count:2.4k Warnings:Angst to Fluff to Smut, this got way angstier than i thought SOWWWY- but I promise, fluff ensues, Smut ensues, so MDNI/18+, Movie Spoilers Summary:After you finally return from work, a few surprises await you at home…

Masterlist

Your day had been slow. Agonizingly slow. Time seemed to go by extra slow today and by the time you finally left your office, it had felt like you had spent a week there, instead of a day. But as you slowly made your way towards your car, your mood lightened, as you remembered what would await you at home.

Your loving Boyfriend and his even sweeter little sister.

The little family you had built over the years always managed to put a smile on your face and especially after the whole drama at that Pizza Plex, you were even more grateful for what you had.

You slightly shook your head, trying to avoid thinking of those memories. The things you had seen, while Mike and You tried to save his sister from the dead children. You hoped that they got what they wanted…and that the Monster who created them had gotten what he deserved.

Your mind was about to wander back to the memory of the springlocks violently stabbing into his chest, as a knock on your car window quite literally pulled you out of your thoughts.

A quiet gasp left your lips, as you looked outside to see who had knocked. Much to your relief, it was only your coworker, who wanted to wish you a good night. You quickly uttered your goodbyes, before finally starting the car and making your way back home.

By the time you arrived, the sun had long since disappeared behind the horizon. You quickly parked your car next to Mike´s before moving towards the entrance.

You didn't bother turning on the lights in the hallway, as you dropped your bag to the floor and kicked off your shoes.

Before you could call out for Mike and Abby, you heard someone running towards you and as you realized what was happening, you quickly duck away, stumbling backwards.

Just in time to avoid being hit by the bat that was swung into your direction.

“Mike!! It's me!! It's just me!!”, You quickly yelled and reached for the lightswitch.

As the hallway was suddenly illuminated by the dim gleam of the ceiling light, you could make out the figure of Mike in front of you. He was breathing heavily. With the bat still in his hand, he was towering over you. He just looked at you for one more second, before finally realizing what was happening. He quickly dropped the bat, a hand flying to his face, covering his mouth in disbelief of what he had just done.

“I´m sorry…”, he mumbled, dropping to his knees,”I'm so sorry. I thought…I thought it was..that it was o-one of t-them..”

Your heart broke at the sight in front of you. You quickly pulled Mike into your arms:”It's okay, Mike. I´m alright. They're gone now. They're gone.”

You gently kissed his temple, as you saw that he tried to suppress his tears. You knew that he was having a hard time dealing with the gruesome events. It had left scars on him. Both physically and mentally.

“I´m sorry..”, he muttered once more, pulling you closer to him. You only kissed his forehead again and mumbled sweet nothings into his ear until he had calmed down again.

You gently cupped your boyfriend´s face and gave him a soft smile. To your delight, he returned the smile and leaned forward to quickly peck your lips.

The sweet moment was interrupted as the voice of Abby grabbed your attention. The young girl came running into the hallway, calling out both of your names. Your smile got even bigger as she quickly came over to you, giving you a short hug, before starting to ramble about what she had drawn today and that she wanted to show you all her artworks. You happily nodded at everything that she said.

“Alright Abbs.”, Mike suddenly said, interrupting his sister and affectionately patting her head,”You can show her tomorrow. It's time for bed now.”

The little girl pouted for a moment and turned back to you:”But I wanna stay up and play with you.”

You gave her a mischievous smile:”I tell you something. If you promise me to go to bed now, I will play and draw with you tomorrow the entire day. And I'll make your favorite Dinner, hm?”

Abby´s face lit up in anticipation. She quickly nodded and said good Night to you and Mike, before disappearing into her room.

Mike only looked at you with admiration,”How do you alway do that?”, he asked, as the two of you also made your way to your shared bedroom.

“It´s a secret”, You grinned and let yourself fall down on the bed. A satisfied groan left your lips, as you finally felt the stress from work dissolve into nothing but hot air.

You watched how Mike pulled his Hoodie over his head and throwing it to the side. Now only left in his T-Shirt, he flopped down beside you, propping his head up on his arm and looking down at you. He didn't say anything for a few seconds, just looking you up and down, before he slowly lifted his hand and gently grasped your cheek. You gasped quietly, as he suddenly leaned forward and connected your lips in a sweet and tender kiss. It only lasted for a few seconds before he pulled back again. You looked up at him and saw that his eyes were closed, as he leaned his forehead against yours.

Finally, Mike opened his mouth to say something, but after a few seconds of silence, he closed it again and he opened his eyes. You looked at his dark orbs and almost lost yourself in all the emotions, he was trying to convey only with his gaze.

“It's okay.”, you affirmed, “I know. You don't have to say anything, Mike.”

The boy only smiled at you and it was a genuine smile. One, that you rarely got to see.

Without another word, Mike suddenly sat up, pulling you with him and into his lap. You gasped loudly at the sudden change of position, which gave Mike the chance to put his mouth back onto yours.

This kiss was different. It was passionate, hungry even. He groaned lowly as he pulled your body tighter against his. Your hands pressing up against his chest, while he explored your Body with his.

“Mike..”, you warned him, as he started to kiss your jaw, your skin burning like fire everytime his lips touched you.

“Your sister…”, You mumbled again, but you and him both knew that it was already too late, that you were already at his mercy, the gaze of yours just as hungry as his.

“We'll be quiet.”, he finally answered, as he pushed you off his lap and onto the mattress. You watched how he now also pulled his Shirt over his head, before leaning down to kiss you again. You moaned against his lips, as you felt his cold hands wander under your sweater. He squeezed your hips tenderly, while making it his mission to let you drown in his kisses. As he finally parted to help you out of your clothes, you immediately missed the feeling of his lips pressing against yours.

Quickly you pulled your sweater over your head, discarding it on the floor. Mike only admired you for a few seconds, his gaze wandering all over your Body and you felt heat rising to your cheeks.

“Don't look at me like that.”, you mumbled and gently put your hand over his eyes.

Mike only chuckled at your antics,”Like what?”, he asked, acting all innocent and letting your hand remain on top of his eyes.

After a few seconds of Silence, you slowly pulled your hand back and his eyes went back to look at you.

“Like that.”, You croaked, looking away from him.

“But why?”, Mike teased, pulling you closer to his body by your hips,”I love what I am seeing.”

Upon hearing his words, you looked back up at him. his eyes held no ounce of doubt. He was a hundred percent sure.

“I love you too, Mike”, You smiled and quickly pecked his lips. Mike only returned the smile,”May I?”, he asked, mentioning towards your bra.

You quickly nodded and mere seconds later, your bra joined the heap of clothing that was already on the floor.

Mike´s lips quickly latched onto your breast, as his hand gave the same attention to the other. With a moan, your head lolled back in pleasure.

“You like that, hm?”, Mike mumbled, as he pushed you back down on the bed. You weren't able to form a coherent sentence anymore, so you just nodded.

“Please, let me have you.”, he urged, his hands wandering to the hem of your pants,”Let me make you feel good.”

“Mike please..”, You finally pressed out,”I need you..Need you inside of me.”

That was all the confirmation he needed, before finally pulling your pants down, alongside your panties.

He slowly pushed your thighs apart and started to kiss up the inside of your calves, but never quite touching you where you desperately needed him.

“Mike please.”, You whined again, while trying to keep your voice down. But your eyes widened in surprise and you tried to suppress the loud moan that made it´s way up your throat, as Mike suddenly pushed two fingers inside you without a warning. His tongue joined mere seconds after, as he ate you out like a man starved.

Your hand wandered to Mike´s hair and you gently pulled and pushed at his head as he was working you closer to your release. You could already feel that coil form inside you and after only a few more seconds, it snapped and with a suppressed moan, you came against his mouth.

As your heavy breathing started to slow down again, Mike finally looked back up at you, the desire in his eyes bigger than ever. He quickly latched his lips on yours again and you could taste yourself on him as he kissed you hungrily.

Your hands now wandered towards his sweats and as you grabbed his already hard member through his pants. He groaned lowly, closing his eyes in pleasure.

Quickly, you pulled down his pants, leaving him now also bare in front of you. Without a second thought, you grabbed his length and gave him a few experimental pumps. That seemed to do the trick on him and you watched how Mike´s brows furrowed, as he melted against your touch.

“Wanna be inside you..”,he mumbled against the skin of your shoulder. With anticipation, you lined him up with your entrance and looked back up at him. Mike was looking at you questioningly. And as soon as you gave him a small nod, he finally pushed inside of you.

You grabbed onto his biceps, as the pain slowly dissolved into pleasure. Mike slowly started moving in and out of you, grabbing your hips tightly. You suppressed a moan by sinking your teeth into his shoulder. Not to pierce the skin, but hard enough to leave a mark.

You could hear Mike mumbling incoherent words into your ear, as he picked up his pace, desperately trying to push you over the edge again.

“Mike..”, You moaned, feeling yourself coming closer and closer to the sweet sweet relief and as you looked back into his eyes and saw the adoration that he had for you, you were done for it. You clenched around him and came all over his cock. Mike followed soon after, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm.His thrusts got slower and sloppier and he finally pulled out of you, his breath still heavy against your skin. He quickly kissed your temple, before getting up. After a minute, he returned with a damp cloth and a water bottle. With a smile still on his face, he gently cleaned you both up, before slipping back into bed with you.

You chuckled, as he nuzzled his head into your neck, his stubble tickling your skin. You wrapped your arms around him and pulled his body closer to yours. His warmth engulfing you fully.

“Good Night, Mike.”, you smiled and gently kissed his cheek.

“Night.”, he replied with a yawn.

It didn't go unnoticed by you, that he didn't use his pills to fall asleep today. Or the recording of nature sounds. He didn't even look up at the Poster of Nebraska, that was now hanging over his bed again.

Looking at your beloved one last time, you smiled once more before finally closing your eyes and letting sweet sleep engulf you.

Bonus:

“Mike!?”

“Miiiike!?”

“Miiiiiike!?!?”

Your eyes snapped open and within a second, you were sitting up on the bed. Your gaze wandered to the door, where loud knocks and shouts were being heard. After a few seconds of trying to understand in which century you had woken up in, you realized where you were and the events of last night returned to you.

“Mike?”, You mumbled quietly and tapped your boyfriend's shoulder, who was laying next to you,”Mike??”

With a groan, he finally looked up at you and before you had the chance to say something, he tumbled off the bed due to leaving too much over the edge.

You couldn't suppress the chuckle that left your lips as you leaned down to check on Mike.

“Morning.”, You smiled, as you realized that he was fine. You quickly leaned down to peck his lips, which immediately seemed to wake him up more.

“Miiiiike!?!”

Your sweet moment was interrupted, as you heard Abby banging against the door again.

Mike let out an annoyed groan before getting up and putting his pants back on.

“In a minute, Abbs!”, he yelled back and the banging on the door finally stopped.

“We have a lot to do today.”, you said as you finally got up too and started to get dressed.

Mike only looked at you in confusion:”What do you mean?”

“Remember how I made Abby go to sleep yesterday?”, you chuckled and softly kissed his cheek before walking to the door. Pushing the handle down, you were immediately greeted by the sight of Abby who grabbed your hand and pulled you towards her room to show you her drawings.

Mike could only look after you with a tender smile on his face. How had he gotten so lucky?

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hana-no-seiiki · 1 year

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I saw that you need ideas, so how about a yandere from the Neons? I mean, I would like to see more content from them since they represent the elements in Honkai star rail, by the way, sorry if you don't understand, my English is bad... I leave you a little drawing of a masculine makima (it has nothing to do with it, but as a gift ) xd Also, I don't know if I'm the only one, but Nanook makes me handsome >///<

(Sorry, I had already finished it but the work was stained hahaha and I did it again)

Yus the Aeons are so cool looking!! You really feel like they’re actual gods of the universe, especially since you don’t see them first hand (at least for now). Also Masculine Makima reminds me of Karma Akabane lol. I’ll draw it in my style, and add it here as an extra for you ♥️

Hb we mash those two topics up together actually?

warnings: mild yandere themes. mild spoilers for csm. major canon divergence. reader takes the shape of a masc/amab character but it isnt their original form.

status: unedited. updated art.

YANDERE! AEONS + VARIOUS! HSR x AEON OF FEAR/CONTROL! READER

You have no memory of your conception, only that you started existing for what felt like an eternity.

You represented fear and despair, but unlike IX whose mere presence drove humanity into insanity, or the rest of your fellow aeon’s godlike status amongst the world,

you walked around as a normal, ordinary human being.

As normal as an Aeon can get anyways.

In your current lifetime, you took the shape of Himeko’s “brother”, planting fake memories into her mind and being the one that urged her to travel the stars. While she was the navigator, you took the role of conductor before creating Pompom to supplant you.

Welt always knew you weren’t just a regular person. Your eyes always felt distant, so far off that not even a century’s worth of trail blazing would allow him to come close. As such he mostly kept cordial relations with you.

The youngsters of the bunch on the other hand, never seemed to realize the sheer magnanimity of the danger you held and always hung around you.

Particularly that Caelus. The newest addition to the crew. The stellaron within him always pulsed in some sort of giddiness and excitement whenever you were around. The boy couldn’t help but be a nervous wreck when he was around you. Stuttering and stumbling was a common occurrence whenever you so decide as to just breathe at his direction.

You knew what those Stellarons are, their nature, their purpose, the way they were created. In fact if you wanted to, you could have taken the Astral Express straight to the source of it all, your partner: Nanook.

However that would have ruined the fun of it all. So you chose to let them have their little adventures before the final confrontation.

Also because you signed a contract to not meddle with Nanook’s business in exchange for your freedom. But that was another story to tell.

“Why . . . why do you continue this farce? This utterly worthless play?”

IX’s voice rang within your ears and no one else’s. You were the only being it ever gave the time of day to. You imagine it to be the reason why insanity slowly built itself within the recesses of your head.

“You may see the entire universe as worthless . . . but I,” You breath hitched. You looked around your room. Time was frozen. Everything turned grey. You weren’t afraid of the others in the express hearing you, just that the following words you were about to spout out felt like bile on your mouth. “I suppose I’m still a bit like them in a way. I wish to see the world without its evils.”

“And destroying them. That is my first step.” You summon an orb of golden light. Stellarons. The creation of the very thing that made you loath all evil. Including yourself. You will eradicate these and then Nanook yourself. One day.

“Is that why you send those hunters out?”

“Perhaps.” The orb within your hands get covered in chains, quickly getting crushed within the metal like substance as it soon disappeared.

“Do as you wish. Just do not bother me like that imbecile.”

“I promise. I will be much worse than Yaoshi.”

IX remained silent for several seconds, no doubt regretting its decision of associating with you before adding, “. . . And do not die.”

“That one I cannot guarantee.”

Your room’s color returns, time continues. Signaling the end of two Aeons’ encounter.

Nanook, the Aeon that threatened to eradicate all that you love. All so they could have your soul once more. Within your gilded cage. Within your original body that lied dormant.

The Destruction will no longer be a path. That is a guarantee you write upon the stars when your Trail Blazing lifetime eventually comes to a close.

The stage is set, your actors ready.

All you needed was the cue.

Your gloved hand arose, pointing towards the express’s windows in the shape of a gun.

“Bang.”

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fayes-fics · 3 months

Text

When The World Is Free: Chapter 8 - Je N'en Connais Pas La Fin

MASTERPOST PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, WW2 AU.

Warnings: tiny dash of spice… making out, hands wandering. Light angst, emotions, late-night confessions.

Word Count: 2.3k

Author’s Note: Multi-chapter fic based on a request by the lovely @amillcitygirl. Please see the masterpost for a synopsis of this story. Please don't be mad at me about this - I could not go with the cliche of wedding night. These idiots just need one more night to get their sh*t together. Sorry, and yes, as penance, Chapter 9 will be posted very soon. Thanks to @colettebronte for beta reading. Enjoy!

Montivilliers (just outside Le Havre), September 1939

A nervous energy ripples through your limbs as the four others leave, traipsing across the garden to the neighbouring cottage, leaving you and your new husband alone. Still waving awkwardly from the patio as they all disappear from view. A chill passes through you, just noticing how cold the night air is, autumn drawing in and without the warmth of Benedict holding you in some way, as he has been the past few hours. You startle slightly as he interrupts your reverie by chivalrously wrapping the faux fur stole around your shoulders.

“It’s my something borrowed,” you blurt, unsure what else to say.

“Eloise?”

You just nod, too nervous all of a sudden to look up at him.

“Let’s get inside,” he suggests, observing even the extra layer does not halt your shiver, gesturing to the kitchen door.

You walk awkwardly past, catching a whiff of his delicious scent that you woke up to this morning, the involuntary urge to sway into him intense.

You drift to the living room, Benedict wandering to the gramophone, putting on a mellow jazz record before taking a seat; part of you sad he chooses the armchair, not the sofa beside you.

“Well… that was a day,” he understates in his usual affable manner.

“I don’t know how I can ever thank you,” you respond earnestly, looking down at the simple band on your finger by reflex. “It’s all thanks to you that I have a chance to escape while I still can.”

“You would have done the same for me,” he demures with a quiet certainty that makes you yearn to touch him.

Instead, you exchange slightly awkward smiles, the mantlepiece clock ticking sounding so loud, even with the music playing.

“And I'm sure you will get home one day,” he assures. “Your family, I'm certain, miss you… and... And your fiancee,” the reluctance in his words evident.

“I’m not sure a married woman can have a fiancé anymore,” you remark; the lash of guilt every time Stanley’s name is invoked lessening with every moment you spend alone with Benedict.

“You can once you are a single woman again, as soon as you are safe,” he counters softly, so altruistic in his manner your throat almost itching with unspent words—a want to yell. No! Fight for me! I want you more than I ever will want him!!

“You yourself said on the train that perhaps there is something better out there for me,” you respond cautiously. “The longer this adventure runs, the more certain I am of that.”

His mien is profound as you finally raise your eyes to his, wanting so much to say more but feeling too tongue-tied and cowardly to be that selfish, to declare he is what you want.

He shakes himself a little and leans back into the armchair as if resetting himself and the line of conversation. Like he senses the mutual danger lurking there.

“Tomorrow, when we sail… they will likely notice the date on our marriage certificate,” Benedict counsels gently. “That may raise flags about the authenticity of our union.”

“What can we do to assuage them?”

“Come up with a plausible story. Be physically affectionate. They may ask no questions, or they may ask as many as they wish,” he warns, “especially of you. They may ask you about…” Benedict pauses, his face flushing a little, “… intimate matters. They have every right to ask if the marriage has been consummated.”

You feel yourself flashing hot as he says it. “I should lie?” you whisper.

“You should say whatever you think will make them believe we are a real couple,” he obfuscates.

“I’m a terrible liar…” you confess, blushing when you realise your words could be interpreted as an invitation to be intimate. And on this, your wedding night.

His gaze is heavy. “You can do it y/n. Your freedom and safety may depend on your ability to convince them you love me... And I you.”

I think I might, your mind screams.

“I know… I… think I can do it,” you falter, replaying every kiss you have shared. “We seem to have done a great job convincing Jerome and Marie…”

“They are not looking to see artifice,” he counters. “British soldiers will be.”

“Sh… should we practice?” It’s out of your mouth before you can stop it, champagne again taking your tongue, a deep flush spreading over your skin as you realise it.

“Y… yes, I think maybe we should,” he agrees very quickly.

He stands somewhat awkward, peeling off his jacket and rolling up his shirt sleeves, leaving his waistcoat. You find yourself again mesmerised by him, as you were that night in Paris, wanting to run your hands over the flex in his arm muscles. In fact, you are so distracted you don’t even realise he is proffering you a hand out of the chair. You spring up to your feet without his help, the idea of touching him right now entirely too distracting, which seems to amuse him briefly before his expression turns sincere.

“We have kissed, but not as lovers, as married people would. We... we may need to do so, casually, of course, within sight of those allowing boarding,” he opines, even as your heart speeds up, realising what he is saying.

“You think we need to… practice more kissing? Now?” you are mildly annoyed by how stupefied you sound.

“Yes,” he confirms, drawing closer, “passionate, real kissing.”

You are looking up into blue eyes and a gorgeous face as fingertips loop around your wrist as if checking your pulse.

“Grab my wrist if you want me to stop,” he tutors softly, so gentlemanly in his approach, even as you fret that he can feel your heart rate hammering hard in your veins.

Once again, time is in slow motion as his lips descend. At first, the kiss is breathtaking but still chaste, like previously. But then there is a noise in the back of his throat that makes the hairs on the nape of your neck stand on end; his lips part yours, a wave of damp heat as the kiss deepens. His tongue swipes yours tentatively, a tease before you mirror his moves. He tastes of champagne and something else that is entirely him, an impulse to bite the inside of his cheek. And then it’s abruptly fervent, wanton - like a dam has broken - his hands gripping the crest of your hip bones, each finger an insistent dig into your flesh.

Finally, given the permission, you don't hold back. Pushing into him, one hand grasping the buckled loop at the back of his waistcoat that cinches it to his slim form, the other winding around his sturdy neck, encouraging him to lean down further, take from you. The kiss seems never-ending, a rolling wave of to and fro, a dance not unlike the one in the square just last night. Those fireworks still explode, but this time, it feels like those ones that are so powerful they knock a punch to your solar plexus, a ricochet you feel physically,

His hands slide up your back, a sensual drag that makes you moan into his mouth, a noise he greedily swallows. But he stops as they reach the faux fur wrapped around your shoulders and reluctantly breaks the kiss.

“Please, take this off,” he implores, “I cannot do this with you wearing my sister's clothing,” he points out with a cringe that creases his face charmingly.

Your responding giggle causes him to break into a lopsided grin, and wordlessly, you untie it as he watches, pupils blown. When you push it back off your shoulders, it hits the rug behind you with a soft whump, and your instinct takes over, rocking onto your tiptoes, one hand sliding into the lush hair at the back of his head and bringing his face back to yours.

The minute your mouth opens to his, you are heavy and weightless all at once, not unlike that wooden roller coaster on Coney Island that made you see stars. Your nails flex on his scalp as his hands slide over your dress, looping low around your hips, tugging you snugly into his body as your tongues tangle.

This.

This must be what the girls whisper about—a tart metallic boiling in your blood, a heavy tug deep inside your pelvis that needs relief. A wanting so physical it almost hurts, a hunger that makes you feel reckless, liable to behaviour you could never justify, a pure carnal caprice. But all too soon, he is pulling back, a need to breathe, even as he does so inches from your face, his eyes locked on yours as they flutter open.

“Again,” you murmur, uncaring how gossamer thin your excuse is, just wanting more.

His eyes are glittering as he complies. Kissing like a wild storm now, hands hot through the thin, cool silk fabric. And you cannot stop the noises you make, shameless and breathy, right into his open, wet, questing mouth. Pressing hard against his body, a solid warmth in his trousers promising things you need so badly you crave to curl around him, open yourself to him.

You have never felt this before. A tingle under your scalp that vibrates all the way down to your toes. A want to take and be taken. To bite and be bitten. To ride and be ridden. For him to rip your dress from your body and throw you onto the sofa—a yen that feels not entirely human and definitely not civilised.

It's like he senses your thoughts have slid somewhere wild, or perhaps his have too, as when he pulls back, he is panting, and there is a quaking in his entire being like he is crackling with energy.

“Please. Go.” His voice is ragged, deep, almost wrecked. “Please. I… I can’t do this anymore,” his voice cracks a look that is at once hungry, aching, and barely contained restraint.

Please don't be a gentleman now, Benedict. Please. No. God. Not now. Don’t.

“I’m s…sorry,” you stutter, feeling guilty you have pushed it too far but utterly unmoored by the searing passion and the sting of his rejection, albeit reluctant.

Even you can see the war in his being, physical desire being muzzled by the gentleman he was clearly raised to be. Knowing if you stand here much longer, something will happen that one or both of you will regret. Your wedding ring seems to burn your skin as you turn around and shrink away, leaving the room, not daring to look back, knowing he has also turned away with ragged breaths.

As you climb the stairs, feet feeling leaden, your body in utter turmoil, you hear the discordant scratch of the gramophone being halted. You undress in a daze, swearing you can still feel the heat of his handprints through the silk of your dress. Climbing into the bed approaching numb, champagne swirling unease in your gut with all the rich foods, an oily disquiet that means it takes ages to settle.

You lay there fitfully for what feels like hours, tossing and turning, picking over the minutiae of every moment with Benedict - tonight and all the nights and days before. Seeing possible signs that make your heart clench.

Could it be that he is not doing this all for show?

It's a seizing thought that catalyses your body: it has you up on your feet and rushing down the stairs in your nightgown, breathless and stumbling. But when you round the corner into the living room, all your courage to declare it is sapped by the sight of Benedict sleeping, curled slightly, looking smaller somehow, his back turned to you, face buried into the back cushion of the sofa.

Instead, you back away, padding to the kitchen to take a glass of water, hoping the hydration will stave off the worst of a hangover; the water is a relief to the tumultuous, racing feeling as you stand on the large slab of earthen tile gleaming in the moonlight, cold underfoot. You pour another glass for him without thought.

Tiptoeing back into the living room, careful not to wake him, you crouch beside him to leave the glass of water within easy sight and reach should he stir. But you find yourself unable to leave without saying something. The temptation to confess to his unconscious self is impossible to resist, the grip on your own glass so tight.

“I’ll never be able to repay you,” you murmur to his back, fingers itching to trace over the bare skin of his shoulder blades where they peak out of the blanket. “For this unbelievable act of kindness and generosity. And yet… god, this is so selfish,” you flick your eyes up to the ceiling to stem a tear you feel gathering, “… still I’m greedy. Always wanting more. Wanting…. Wanting to never return to my old life. Wanting to run away. Wanting this… Wanting this to be real.”

The last phrase is barely audible, but still, you are instantly horrified that you confessed it out loud, even to his unconscious, sleeping frame. And you know you must leave.

God, what is wrong with me? What is this? Temporary insanity? Too much alcohol, a fake wedding and an impending war are not a good recipe…

It’s a silent internal lament as you stand up and withdraw, self-chastisement echoing so loud in your head. And yet, you can't resist a parting sentence from the doorway.

“Goodnight, Benedict, you are truly the very best of men...”

—

What you don’t see as you slowly climb back up the creaking wooden stairs is Benedict’s eyes blazing open, a look of utter astonishment claiming his face as he twists around and stares at the doorway you left by, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

He was never asleep.

And he heard every single word.

Benedict taglist: @foreverlonginguniverse @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies @balladynaaa

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton angst #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton angst #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n

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dawnisdreamlanding · 6 months

Text

CHAPTER 2

Ghost x Reader x Konig

Neighbor! and Roommate!au hehe

About me | Masterlist |

Author's note: Happy Hanukkah! I'd like to say THANKS SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT FOR THE FIRST PART AAAA!! I've been wanting to write fanfics for agess but I was always too nervous to hahahdsf so all the support means so much to me, especially for it being my first fic. But less talk, more story, I hope you enjoy part 2! <3

‘Why am I meeting so many tall, buff guys today? Well, not that I’m complaining,’ you chuckle inwardly. Konig’s so tall that when he greets you, he bends down slightly. Talk about being short. You mentally shake that thought away before smiling and telling him to follow you to your apartment.

Everything goes smoothly, and he ends up moving into your apartment the following week. It takes him a couple of days and a little head-banging on the door frame due to his height for him to get used to your shared apartment.

It’s been a month since then. You learn he’s from Austria, and he starts to call you ‘Maus’ which was self-explanatory. But you never really learned anything else other than that. So, to recap, both your neighbor and roommate are both silent and secretive. And they’re hot. You quickly shake that thought away. You shouldn’t be thinking about them like that!

Speaking of Simon, you haven’t seen him for a couple of days. You wonder what he’s doing. After a few extra moments of silence, you realized you’ve spaced out from doing your work. Your gaze lands on the long list of emails you’ll be needing to respond to by tonight, followed by the time on your computer on the bottom right of the screen. ‘7.43 pm’. Ugh, this looks like you’ll be staying back late in the office tonight.

It’s already been a few hours since the last of your coworkers said goodbye to you, and the office lights has been turned off except for your section of the office. The darkness surrounding the office was a little unsettling if you were being honest, but you pressed on with answering those emails. Your phone buzzing makes you jump in your seat and the bright screen in contrast to the surroundings makes you squint a little.

Oh, Konig’s calling. You pick up the call and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t relieved to hear someone’s voice after hours of overtime. The line’s a little staticky, but his voice comes through the phone. “Hello, Maus? Where are you?” Konig sounds worried. “Hey Konig!” You try to sound a little upbeat, but your exhaustion comes through nonetheless. “I’m working overtime tonight; I’ll be coming home late.”

Home. You don’t know when you started referring to your apartment as ‘home’, since you’ve always thought your apartment felt so soulless since you moved in. If you think hard about it, the emptiness of your apartment only ever seemed to disappear when Konig’s large frame started to fill in the empty space in your apartment. Despite not knowing much about Konig’s life, the two of you spend quality time together, bonding over shows on Netflix ranging from ‘The Good Place’ to ‘Emily In Paris’. Though you’d have to admit, the more mind-numbing the show is, the more entertaining it is when you hear all Konig’s quips and comments while the two of you watch it. God, you wish you were hanging out at home with Konig now.

“Maus?” Konig calls me once again, snapping me out of my train of thought. “H-huh? Sorry could you repeat that?” I reply. “It’s looks like its about to rain hard tonight, do you need me to bring you home?” his voice gets a little more staticky by the second, and you’re only able to get out a “it’s fine” before the power in the office shuts down.

“Oh hell no,” you say out loud to yourself. You watched enough horror game playthroughs to know that you’re not staying a second longer in office if you want to see another day. Your line gets cut off and you groan. If this isn’t the start of a horror movie.

You managed to exit the office without tripping in the darkness with being little on edge. Little droplets of rain start to fall to the ground, slowly painting the pavement a darker shade of grey with each drop. Your line comes back and you were seconds away from calling Konig to ask him to drive you back home but then a hulking figure leaving the nearby grocery store enters your field of vision.

You are quick to look at this guy because who the hell is he and why is he dressed in all black at night, looking like a robber? Oh my god is he a robber? Oh, it’s your neighbor, Simon. You should really stop bumping into him in such shady situations.

---

Simon ends up driving you back to your apartment complex. This time around, you try to talk to him the car ride there. In between the awkward silences, the two of you managed to bond over some shared bands playing on the radio and you learn that he’s from the military.

“’s not fair that they’re makin you work overtime like this.” Simon grumbles out. “Yeah well, what can I do? Besides, they pay me quite well.” You reply. It was true; the company you worked is quite taxing at times, but the benefits and pay holds you back from quitting.

“Well,” he inhales as he puts his car into park. “If you ever need a lift home, just let me know.” His offer puts a smile on your lips. For someone who you’ve gotten to really know in the span of a 20 minute car ride, he has a heart of gold. “Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind.”

He has the manners to walk you back all the way to your apartment — you ignore the fact he lives literally right next to you — and makes sure you enter your apartment safely before unlocking his own door.

You sigh and drop your bag onto the floor. Your eyelids feel really dry and the constant urge to get some shut eye makes the tasks of getting ready for bed seem to stretch on for far too long. Part of you debates on sacrificing dinner so you can sleep a little earlier but that’s when you hear Konig call out for you in the kitchen.

“Eat.” He speaks. “I cooked dinner for the both of us, but I didn’t know you were staying in the office.” A slight pang of guilt shoots through you at the thought of Konig waiting alone at the dinner table for you to come home. “Thanks, Konig.” I smile at him. “I’m glad to be home.”

Konig tries to ignore the warmth that creeps up on him during moments like these. His eyes naturally drink in the sight of you sitting across the table, happily munching on the food he’s cooked you. Fuck, maybe being a househusband wouldn’t be so bad, especially if its for you. He quickly shakes off that thought. He kills. He likes to kill. What was he even thinking?

“Emily in Paris?” he suggests when you finish your dinner. You sigh and shake your head. “Sorry, too tired, Ko.” The nickname slips out of your mouth so easily that you don’t notice it, but he does. His body freezes up and his brain short circuits. He’s so focused on the nickname you used for him that he doesn’t even feel sadness when you rejected his suggestion. He hums in acknowledgement.

“Maybe this weekend?” You say and he nods, watching you turn to head into your room. He decides not to tell you he’s leaving for work that weekend. Leaving to kill people. “Next weekend.” He confirms. You smile tiredly at him and the warm yellow light illuminates your features. “Goodnight, Konig.” God, he wishes you could call him Ko again. “Goodnight, Maus.”

Taglist! @gojo-mochi

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evan4ever · 7 months

Text

Sick

Kai Anderson x sick reader

Warnings: Kai being a (slightly more caring) jerk, vomit, sick reader, mentions of pregnancy

a/n: it’s short but I just loved the thought

—

You felt feverish all night and even into the next day. You knew, by 1 pm, that you had to be running a fever of over 100 by the way your body shook yet your forehead glistened with sweat and your teeth chattered. Your body was hot but you felt freezing. But you didn’t bother attempting to ask Kai for medicine or even a thermometer so you knew the severity of the fever. It would be burdening him and he was busy, especially today.

You barely could keep your attention on Kai during the meeting in the basement. Your eye would flutter shut every so often as your mind focused on not allowing you to give in to the new feeling of vomiting. Your mouth salivated, a warning sign that you were very close to throwing up, but you focused harder and harder to keep it down — at least until the meeting was over. This only made you sweat more and tremble more.

You felt the occasional eye(s) on you, wondering what your problem was or if you were okay. If you could, you’d open your eyes and glare back at them, not wanting their attention on you to bring Kai’s attention to you when everyone’s should be on him.

“Y/n.” You heard your name, your eyes shooting open and immediately landing on Kai who only stared at you with anger.

Fuck.

You cleared your throat and readjusted your position on the floor and nodded to him, a quiet “I’m sorry” being heard just enough for him to shake his head and turn away from you, continuing where he left off.

But that short moment you focused on him rather than on not vomiting led to your stomach turning into a tight knot, your throat involuntarily gagging and you knew you couldn’t keep it down any longer.

Your hand immediately clutched your mouth to hold any vomit that may come up in and you grabbed the couch with you free hand, pulling yourself to your feet and booking it for the staircase. You didn’t care that you interrupted Kai, or that every single human in the rooms eyes were on you before you disappeared up the staircase. You just needed to make it to the bathroom.

Running as fast as your feet could carry you, you made it into the main floor bathroom and threw yourself over the toilet, allowing your body to vomit into it. And it did, over and over again.

You still trembled as you held yourself over the toilet the best you could, vomiting once more before you finally felt some sense of relief. You groaned into the toilet bowl, using some toilet paper to wipe your mouth before flushing the vomit down and pushing yourself from the bowl and into a sitting position next to the toilet.

“Are you pregnant?”

You jumped at the sudden voice from the doorway, looking over to see Kai standing in it, his eyes on you. You cleared your throat and shook your head, almost wishing you were.

You knew Kai wanted his “special” child. And you were lucky enough to have been chose by Kai to carry it when the time would come. So if you were pregnant, the treatment from Kai would be much better than what it’ll be when you announce that you’re not pregnant, but sick with the flu.

Kai sighed, crossing his arms and leaning himself against the doorframe.

“Why are you so sick? Haven’t you been taking care of yourself?” He asked, annoyed at the inconvenience you’ve caused him. “I had to cut my meeting short.”

“You could’ve carried on without me.” You stated as you turned away, trying not to sound as upset as you were. He replied with nothing, so you glanced at him only to see him just staring at you from the same stance. You sucked in a sharp breath and opened your mouth to apologize to him but another vomiting episode began, your body leaning back over the toilet to ensure it be caught.

Your muscles stiffened as they were used extra to throw up everything your stomach held inside of it, and even after every bit of food and drink had been thrown up, you dry heaved and threw up stomach acid.

At some point, Kai had made his way to you, collecting your hair that had been falling inside the toilet and holding it up. You were even more surprised to feel his hand against your back, gently, rubbing it as you continued dry heaving.

“You have nothing left to vomit, y/n.” You heard him from above you, nodding as you slowly pushed yourself back from the bowl again, careful not to allow yourself to gag.

“fuck” you breathed out, feeling Kai let your hair fall before he wrapped your arm over his shoulder and wrapped his own arm around your torso, pulling you to your feet easily. You let out a groan, the feverish feeling returning.

Kai noticed it too, his eyes quickly meeting your with concern. You narrowed your eyebrows not understanding his expression but his free hand found your forehead and then your cheek, and you understood.

“You’re burning up.” He states, your head nodding to agree. His concerned eyes change back to his previous cold eyes, letting out an annoyed sigh before helping you to his room, where you’d been allowed to sleep since he’d chosen you to carry his future child. He helped you next to the bed then let go of you, your arms catching yourself on wall and rolling your eyes at him. “You can rest in here. I have to finish some things downstairs. I’ll check on you later.”

Though you were slightly grateful for the tiny bit of concern he showed you, you were also annoyed because now he expected you to lay down when you were desperate for some kind of fever reducing medicine. But you didn’t dare object to the care he’d shown you, otherwise you’d receive the opposite treatment from him and that’s the last thing you needed.

So, you nodded at him and pulled his covers back, glancing at him once more, his eyes just watching you, before crawling into the bed and pulling his comforter over your body just below your chin. Your eyes met his again, a silent hope for his approval which was granted with a nod of his head, watching as he turned and left the room, turning the lights out before shutting the door behind him.

You sighed hard after he left down the stairs, slapping your arms against the bed as you now lay flat on your back and stare at the ceiling fan as it spins around and around. Your mind wandered to yours and Kai’s interaction in the bathroom, how the first thing he asked was if you were pregnant. He was hopeful, you knew it already but heard it in his voice. He wanted his baby so bad and your body hadn’t given it to him yet. But, yet, despite the disappointment when you told him no, he was still caring for you in the little ways Kai knew how. It wasn’t often or a familiar feeling, but it HAD happened before, Kai caring for you. There were very few occasions but when he acted like he cared, for the moment in time, you couldn’t help but fall so deep in love with him that it made every bad, painful, horrible thing he’s done to you in the past seem like nothing.

It was dangerous.

But he was addicting. And that’s how he kept you addicted. Showing you the slightest bit of love when you didn’t realize you needed it the most. A smart man, indeed.

You heard a knock at the door and looked up, meeting Winter’s soft and careful eyes as she approached you. Your eyes fell on the items she held and you shot her thee most thankful eyes you could, her smile being a you’re welcome.

“Kai, actually.” She nodded as she sat next to you, your body now leaning against the wall as you took the Tylenol and pepto bismol from her. You glanced at her confused. “He sent me up with them.” She smiled, setting the bucket next to the bed and handing you a bottle of water. “Some tea is being made, too.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, quickly popping each medicine in your mouth and taking a swig of the water to swallow them down.

“Wow.” Was all you muttered, resting your head back against the wall.

“Right.” She chuckled lightly. “He can be so… full.. of surprises.” She admitted, you agreeing with her.

“Keeps me wrapped around his finger.” You sighed, your eyes falling on the bucket and smiling at the fact that he knew to even send that up with you in case your body decided to vomit again. It was such a small detail to think about but, it meant a lot. “Makes me love him more than I should.” You whispered so just Winter could hear, your eyes meeting hers sincerely.

She looked at you with pity, knowing what you meant and also knowing it would eventually be your demise. Not many, if any, survived Kai. Winter truly believed that neither you or herself would be any different.

And you knew exactly how she felt but despise her feelings, you knew you’d never get away from him.

“Get some rest.” She squeezed your hands before standing and exiting the room without a second glance, leaving you to your thoughts while the medicine worked on your ill body.

Some time later, another gentle knock at the door brought your attention back to it as Kai now entered, holding the mug full of your favorite hot tea in his hands. You couldn’t read him. He looked neither happy nor mad. He just… was.

His eyes held yours as he approached you and sat the mug by your bed. You pressed your lips together and held his eye contact for another moment before finally clearing your throat.

“Thanks” you nodded.

“You should feel better soon.” He stated. You nodded, thankful for him. “Yeah. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.” He said so simply before turning to leave.

You tried to stay quiet but couldn’t help yourself.

“Stay” you blurt out, silently cursing yourself, but you started so you weren’t going to stop now. “I mean, if you want.” You cleared your throat in uncertainty as he stood still, facing away from you. You stared at him a moment, then continued. “Just stay… please.” You said, now in a whisper.

Kai was never readable. No one ever knew what he was thinking or what his next move or reaction would be. So you sat in his bed, your body tense with nerves, awaiting his next move.

But to your surprise, you watched as Kai easily slipped his shirt over his head. Your eyebrows shot up, almost having no time to react before he was crawling into his bed next to you, his arms pulling you to him. You weren’t sure how to react, so for another minute your body remained tense. That was, until you felt him hold you tighter, silently telling you it’s okay to relax.

And so you did. And you laid in his arms, something you’ve only done a handful of times.

And it felt so nice.

—

Tags: @evanpetersmood @witchsbitchestime @demxnicprxncess @yes-divine-ruler @shjjpm @evanpsrealwife @iruzias @jangsuzchap @quicksilversg1rl l @submissiveforahsmen @angelmenace @lovelizzie-blog1 @justa19 @daylas-life @simp4petermaximoff @totta69

(I need to redo tags!!!)

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mellifluouaamor · 2 years

Note

hello! can I request isis, rezef, and ijekiel courting or crushing hcs? also gn!reader please, like how they would act around their crush, what they would do for them, unless you have a character limit I'll redo this request :') thank you if you took up this request! I hope you'll have a lovely day or night ❤️❤️

ISIS DE ELMIR, REZEF HILL, IJEKIEL ALPHEUS (SEPARATE) ⍣ GENDER-NEUTRAL READER

synopsis. how he courts you.

warnings. rezef hill being rezef hill.

author's note. HI SORRY FOR DISAPPEARING FOR MONTHS 🙈 to answer your question though - because of how easy it is for me to write for manhwa characters, i wanna say that i have no character limit... but alas, i gotta cap it at 3 so i can catch up with my other requests 😂

it'll take empress iris and aisha talking to ISIS to get him to realise his intimate feelings for you, and he'll immediately think of courting you once he's sure that what he feels isn't a product of him being in the heat of the moment. if he's already close with you, the way he endearingly treats you won't change but there will be a hint of shyness in his gestures.

his attempts at courting you may be a bit awkward, but there's no denying the heartfelt sincerity in every gift that he leaves in your hands. the gifts that he hand-picks himself reflect his innocent wish of making you the happiest person in the empire (as well as the time that he spends thinking about you).

as the crown prince, isis spends most of his time studying and training, and rarely has a moment to think about relationships. as a result, he would often turn to his father and mother for help. he'd take you out to the places they've suggested and would plan every date meticulously; courting you is an operation that he must succeed in!

he pays extra attention to you on your dates and considers those outings as your days. if there's a particular place that you want to visit, don't hesitate to tell him as he'll gladly bring you there on his carriage - or his horse if you ask him. something in a shop caught your eye? consider it bought.

during royal balls and banquets, isis will always make sure to ask you if he could be your partner for your first dance. he wants to be the one to lead you to the dance floor and show the audience that there is no one in the whole world who shines more brightly or beautifully than you. if he's the star, then you must the sky that allows him to exist.

despite being the crown prince, the way isis treats you will make you feel like royalty - and he's not being endearing just for the sake of getting your hand. every action and word of his is genuine, especially his promise to devote his faith to you and being your sword.

REZEF will kill a person, burn a mansion down, and even forsake his own country if it means that he can obtain you. with the way he was raised and treated as a child, it shouldn't come as a surprise that rezef views you as a property to own rather than a living human whose feelings he has to put above his own if he truly loves you.

you'll find yourself on the receiving end of his kindness and comfort more often, and you'll wake up to find expensive gifts piling up in your home. he doesn't bother leaving himself anonymous because he knows that once your parents are aware of the prince's courtship, it'll be hard for you to refuse his feelings later.

instead of taking you out to the places that you've never been to before, he'll invite you over for lunch or dinner with him in the palace and try to charm you. if you're cayena's close friend, she'll encourage you to get to know her brother better and will even go as far as putting in a good word for him to convince you; even if you're intuitive enough to realise that he's not someone you should get involved with, cayena's charisma is enough to make you inclined to accept rezef's invitations.

as the prince of his country, rezef is not short on money. if jamil tells him that you've been showing interest in a certain trend or have been eyeing some things in the shops, he'll order his servants to purchase those items and wrap them up as gifts to be delivered to you promptly. he doesn't stop to think about where you'll store his endless stream of gifts because if you run out of space, you always have the option of moving into the palace with him and becoming his beloved.

the more time you spend with rezef, the more possessive he is of you. only he's allowed to court you, only he's allowed to touch you, only he's allowed to love you. other people don't get those privileges, and if they try to steal you away from him, they'll face punishment even worse than death.

IJEKIEL is a gentleman at heart and wants to treat you with utmost care, believing that you deserve only the best. he's already kind to you, and you'll often find yourself being doted on by him in private.

he's quite romantic and would send you more love letters than gifts, which are reserved for special occasions such as your birthday. the words and emotions he normally wouldn't express to you in person are inked onto every sheet of paper folded and tucked into the envelopes that will soon find their way to your hands. sometimes, he would deliver his letter to you personally to show you just how genuine he is with his courtship of you.

when the two of you have a free slot in your schedules, he'd take you out for a boat ride and ask you about your day. don't spare him the details; he wants to know everything, so don't be shy about speaking freely around him. he likes listening to you ramble on about the things that make you happy as he watches your animated expressions with a fond smile. of course, he'll gladly talk about himself too if you ask him.

ijekiel will invite you to join him in night markets if you don't mind crowded places. it's the perfect opportunity for him to see what you really like and buy you a memorable gift that will hopefully remind you of this day whenever you look at it. these crowded night markets also give him a good excuse to hold your hand; you wouldn't want to suddenly be separated from him now, would you?

before every social event the two of you have been invited to, he would make sure to gift you something to wear to it, something that will obviously indicate whose heart you've captured. with how charming you are, ijekiel is positive that many suitors will approach you tonight, and wants a subtle yet effective way of warding off any potential threats to his courtship of you.

ijekiel always wants to be the partner of your first dance in balls and banquets. the moment he sets foot in the venue, he's weaving through the crowd, eyes searching for your familiar face. as soon as he finds you, he wastes no time in approaching you - and if you happen to be having a conversation with someone, he'll politely slot himself in to ask you if he could be your first dance partner.

during the first dance, you won't miss the way he's tenderly holding your waist as he meets your eyes with a loving gaze; in these moments, he'll make his feelings for you clear as day in hopes that one day, he'll have a place in your future.

#loveletters—!#manhwa x reader #into the light once again #the villainess is a marionette #who made me a princess #i suddenly became a princess #isis de elmir #isis de elmir x reader #rezef hill #rezef hill x reader #ijekiel alpheus #ijekiel alpheus x reader #headcanons #gender neutral reader

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drewsbuzzcut · 1 year

Text

I Tore You Right Apart

mat barzal x model!fem!reader

a visceral in doses blurb

part 1 here

warnings: angst, sadness

You had just settled the boys in bed, spending an extra 30 minutes watching them while they slept. They are finally becoming adjusted to the Hampton’s house after being here for a month.

Making your way to the cozy living room to relax, something you haven’t been able to do lately, you hear your phone ringing. The color in your face disappears when you see who’s calling you, Nadia. You cautiously reach for your phone as if she could jump out of it and yell at you.

“Hello?” You say in a small whisper, resembling a frightened child.

“I’m surprised you picked up,” she responds and your shoulders sag in relief that she doesn’t sound angry.

“If we’re being honest, I was scared to pick up,” you admit.

“Why? There’s no need to be scared.”

You fiddle around with a loose string on your jeans, wishing you could just be wrapped in Mat’s arms on your huge bed.

“But he’s your son, Nadia,” you say defeatedly.

“And he told me everything, you have every right. Don’t get me wrong, you both made mistakes, but you needed space and that’s okay,” she says, soothing that ache just a bit.

“He told me that you’re going to be helping him,” you say, changing the subject, surprising Nadia at the fact that you two have talked.

You and Mat have no choice but to talk. It’s not fair to Angel or Nolan for them to not see their father. You can actually count on one hand how many times you’ve talked; he usually just calls for the boys.

“I am, but I think it’s good that you said to start off on the weekends.”

“Yeah. Weekends just seem best, especially right before the season starts. Did he tell you that Angel is actually not going to be with him for a little while because of the breastfeeding situation?”

“No, he didn’t tell me. Well, hopefully I’ll be able to pick him up for the day, so Mat can see him,” she mutters, sounding sad.

You gather all your strength to not burst into tears. You are disappointing all of the people that matter to you.

“Nadia…”

“Yes, dear?”

“Am I making a mistake? Do you think I can do this, because if Mat doesn’t think I can do it, then maybe I can’t?” Your voice cracks, eyes becoming tearful.

“Sweetheart, Mat didn’t mean what he said. He loves you and he knows you’re a great mother. He wouldn’t have had kids with you if he thought you couldn’t do it,” she sighs out, reassuring you.

“I told him that I hated him,” you sob, face falling into your hands.

“I know, he told me.”

“I’m a terrible person,” you blurt out.

“No, you’re not. You just said something out of anger. I love you and my grand babies. Give them kisses for me, and I’ll see if we can meet up sometime to talk more. I just got to Mat’s, so I have to go.”

“Okay. I love you, too.”

You hang up the phone, sinking into the unwanted silence of the house. To “Mat’s” place; the thought sends you spiraling. Your tears continuously run down your cheeks. Silent sobs wracking through your body.

I am a terrible person. You think to yourself, knowing all too well about that piece of paper hidden in your purse stating that you are pregnant with your third child.

a/n: So sorry for the angst, but it’s needed for the story to move along. Hope you all enjoy!

taglist: @literatureluster

#mat barzal #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fluff #mat barzal angst #mat barzal smut #nhl imagine #nhl fic #visceral in doses

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ragingbookdragon · 1 year

Text

She drummed her fingers against the teacup, watching as her brother disappeared into his bedroom, the door shutting behind him. Her heart sank for her dearest brother, and she drew her gaze to the disappointed stares of the dwarves at the table and she looked at Thorin. “I’m so sorry for Bilbo’s answer, Thorin. I was sure he would take a leap of faith at such a chance.”

Thorin merely sighed deeply. “It matters not, we will do without.” With a glance to the others, he said, “We will leave before dawn’s first light.” Turning back to her, he asked, “Might we settle in for the evening?”

“Oh, yes, of course!” she answered, hurrying to rise and show everyone to couches and chairs. She led Thorin to the guest room and showed him in. “The bed is here, extra blankets in the cupboard. Is there anything you need before I go to bed?”

“Nothing, thank you,” he replied curtly and turned his back on her, starting to unfasten his armor. Her cheeks flushed and she quickly averted her gaze, but stayed, feet shifting nervously in the carpet; Thorin looked over his shoulder with an expression of irritation. “Is there something you need, Miss Baggins? I would very much like to rest before starting my journey.”

“Yes, I—I know.” She swallowed thickly and bowed her head slightly. “I know I’m not the one that Gandalf wanted for the company…but if it’s all the same, I’d be honored to accompany you to take back Erebor.”

Thorin blinked and turned to face her. “You?”

She had half a mind to be offended by his doubt. “Yes? Is that a problem?”

“Can you even fight?”

She cocked a hand on her hip and retorted, “I’m fairly handy with a frying pan, if I do say so myself,” she nodded firmly. “You should’ve seen me when the badgers began digging through the side of the home last summer.” Thorin chuckled lowly in his throat, and she smiled. “Thorin, I know you’ve no reason to trust nor even believe that I would be of any worth, but if there is a chance that I can be, I ask that you give me it and let me prove myself to you.”

He gazed at her. “Is this truly what you wish? To travel with a bunch of men? You know you’d be the only woman with us.”

“All the same, I wish to partake in this adventure.” She stuck out her hand. “Thorin Oakenshield, I formally request to join your company.”

He grasped her hand in a gentle but firm grip and shook it. “Miss Baggins, I accept your request. Welcome to the company.”

Her face erupted in excitement, and she hurriedly pulled back with, “I’m going to pack right now!” as she rushed for the door, she turned back around ran back and hugged him tightly adding, “Thank you so much, Thorin. I won’t let you down, I swear it!”

***

“I’m so sorry to bother you with having to ride with me, Thorin,” she said bashfully. “I don’t think the pony liked me very much.”

He had to hide the smirk at remembering how she’d practically wailed bloody murder when the pony became skittish and took off with her. “It’s fine,” he gruffly stated.

She looked down and cleared her throat, trying to ignore the warmth from his back bleeding into her. “Might we play a round of questions to ease the silence? I can’t imagine it would be very fun to ride in total silence.”

“If we must,” he replied as if annoyed, and perhaps on some level he was, but she did have a point that complete silence was sometimes tiring.

“Perfect! Since you are the esteemed company, you go first!”

He thought a moment. “What is a skill you’ve always wished to master?”

“Oh…I would say sewing. My mother could sew like no one I’ve ever seen.” She smiled fondly. “I can sew well but nothing compared to the clothes she could mend and make. My turn! When was a time in your life that you felt truly happy?”

“I was ten years of age. I had just received my first real sword. My grandfather had made it for me. Silver blade, sapphires in the hilt.” He frowned. “What qualities do you believe makes a person good?”

She paused. “Well, that is a tough one, especially if you believe that people have inherent evil.”

“Do you?”

“Of course not! I personally think that everyone is capable of good, no matter how bad a life they have lived.”

“A bit naïve don’t you think, Miss Baggins?”

“Perhaps. But if you go around distrusting everything that breathes, you’ll never be able to trust anything when it comes to truly needing it.” She inhaled. “Honor, loyalty, kindness, selflessness, love. Those make a person good. Someone who would put the needs of others above themself and go above and beyond for those they loved. Even if it meant they would be left behind.”

“Now that is truly naïve.”

“I know,” she said with a smile and before she could even open her mouth again, they heard,

“WAIT!”

Thorin pulled the reins, and everyone turned to see Bilbo running over.

“WAIT!” Bilbo called again and her face lit up.

“Brother!” she greeted as he came to a stop.

Bilbo panted heavily. “I signed it!” he handed it off to Balin who looked it over and smiled.

“Everything appears to be in order. Welcome Master Baggins, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield.”

Thorin rolled his eyes and started to turn his own steed around. “Give him a pony.”

“Oh no-no-no!” Bilbo immediately said. “That won’t be necessary, thank you. I’m sure I can keep up on foot. I-I’ve done my fair share of walking holidays, y’know? Even got as far Frogmorton once—WUGH!”

She giggled when Fili and Kili hefted him up by his pack and buried her face in Thorin’s back to muffle her laughter; when she felt Thorin’s back rumble with his own chuckle, she couldn’t help snort even harder.

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belit0 · 9 months

Text

2000 Word Commission (Uchiha Madara / Fem Reader) @moroseu

"I was wondering if you could write Madara falling for reader who was one of the many shinobi he had to fight during the war era. He never had the chance to actually act out on his feelings until the creation of Konoha, where he saw her for the first time outside of combat, during a diplomatic meeting of sorts. She is not wearing armor, she seems a lot more gentler unlike on the battlefield and for the first time, she greets him with a smile. Who will make the first move!? Will he chase after her when the meeting ends or vice versa!? That will be left up to you!"

As I was editing this, I noticed how I changed the meeting situation and got an angry Madara instead, I just hope you like it, my darling Roseu💕😭🙏 Thank you so much for always trusting me with your amazing ideas, I feel truly honored🛐💫

EACH COMMISSION COMES WITH AN EXTRA SECRET SCENARIO, THAT I UNIQUELY AND ESPECIALLY ADD FOR THE BUYER. (I'll leave you an example of it at the bottom, but in Spanish, so you don't cheat.)

KO-FI COMMISSIONS

Madara is angry, in such an intense and terrible mood that makes him look like a hedgehog poised for a fight. Those who know the Uchiha usually avoid getting close to him in this state, aware they will get nothing but a threat and at worst, a glimpse of the Sharingan.

Obfuscated on his desk he tries to read Hashirama's indecipherable handwriting, whatever he tried to explain in the document he left for him. Peaceful times brought out the worst in everyone, and while the Senju leader stands out as the shinobi god, he has no freaking clue about what he's doing in office terms.

Madara, adopting the position of Shadow Hokage, spends more time between trips and physical negotiations than sitting behind a piece of wood, but every time he has to deal with his best friend's errands, his blood boils inside his body.

Is this motivation enough to start another war? Maybe…

"The... a-village of... con-no.oga? What the..." He sighs to himself, abandoning the document on the table and leaning back against his chair. One hand travels to his hair, running through the completeness of his scalp anxiously, and the other to his face, wishing he could disappear into the darkness his gloves provide.

He could ask for help, interpretation, or assistance, were it not for the fact that both Senju brothers decided to disappear altogether, leaving him with total responsibility for the situation. Izuna? Of course not, he doesn't count, he is more of an enemy than an ally when it comes to administration.

With his eyes still covered he remembers those times when everything was simpler and complicated at the same time, where the paperwork was not important and the only decisive thing was blood, sweat, and effort. His body tends to miss those scenarios where it was a matter of killing or getting killed, when the only meaning was to protect his own and to return home with as many as possible, to make sure that Izuna was safe, that the family was still complete.

War times were as terrible as they were wonderful, moments where only Tajima had to deal with annoying elders and combat strategies, Madara being a free young man with the only goal of bringing the Senju heir's head in arms and presenting it before everyone as a symbol of power.

Of course, he did not count on becoming the best friend of this Senju in question, nor running a village with him.

Blood used to flow smoothly, screams rang out from all sides, weapons roared against each other, and she looked as beautiful as ever in her armor and-.

"STOP!" The Uchiha suddenly shouts, standing up and planting both hands on his desk. Eyes wide open and hair tousled, he's grateful to be alone in the office and avoid having to give embarrassing explanations to anyone.

His inkwell spills onto the paperwork because of how he slams the desk, and the document which was already illegible because of Hashirama's handwriting now becomes even worse. The half covered by a huge black stain is given up for lost, and Madara holds his hair yet again, this time itching to rip it out of his head.

"SHIT!" He vowed to never think of her again, to deny that woman place and space in his mind, to eradicate her from his memories and exile her from any corner of his brain. For years he battled against that beautiful face captured in his thoughts, charming eyes, and the ferocity with which she tried to kill him over and over again in the name of the Senju.

She was not part of the clan, but her family allied with them to avoid being massacred for lack of decision. Hashirama worked with her side by side, and the woman dared to stand up to Madara on countless occasions when the leader had to attend to other fronts.

Never had he seen anyone but Hashirama or his stupid brother dare to look him in the face, avoiding his eyes of course, but with their heads held high and proudly puffing out their chests. "Now… what is the name of this warrior who dares attempt to end my life?" He had asked her with a smirk, expecting a perfect escape rather than a coherent answer.

"(Y/N)" she confessed to him before attacking, lunging with savagery and impressive speed at him, the only time she almost succeeded in slashing his neck. He had let his guard down in front of the woman, inviting her to dance a deadly tantrum from which he himself almost ended up losing his life.

The girl proved to be unbeatable, with will and strength of steel, always with an ace up her sleeve. At some point, the confrontations against the Senju took on a new flavor, giving the Uchiha the chance to see her, to fight against her, to have the privilege of admiring her raw power, and to be the recipient of all her assaults.

She was the only warrior he could not kill while holding her at the end of his weapon.

That time, (Y/N) had gotten careless after hours of combat, almost zero chakra left and few physical resources to use. Only the last several warriors were left standing, including the two of them. There had been hours of terrible exchanges, hard blows, and worse answers, but the girl gave an easy access entrance, an opportunity Madara did not hesitate to use.

When he had her on the ground, surrendered under his body and the strength of his hands, he could feel how she gave herself to destiny, how she submitted to whatever life wanted to happen to her, and that distracted him. The kunai was resting on her neck, all he had to do was press lightly, pierce the skin, and tear her throat as with countless enemies.

Instead, his hands were diverted by the warmth of her skin, the sharpness of her eyes, how soft her lips seemed even after hours of fighting and little to no water. Her presence became intoxicating, to the point where it managed to steal his goal of slaughter completely off his mind. She was the only opposing presence the Uchiha dared to forgive, and instead of finishing her off with the edge of his hatred, he allowed her to live.

He allowed her to live.

Her face has been hunting him ever since, unintentionally etched on his Sharingan and chasing him even with closed eyes. That was their last confrontation before the peace treaty, and he never knew what became of her once the war ended, feeling incapable of asking Hashirama about her whereabouts.

He felt fortunate to have had the privilege of witnessing her, meeting her, fighting as an equal opponent against her, yet that was all. He decided to ignore the reminders of (Y/N)’s presence in his mind, to bury her in the depths of times that are no more, and allow himself to move on without regretting not enquiring about her, searching for her.

Odds are that, if he did, she would spit in his face.

The man looks at the ruined sheet and decides to try and fix it, not to give up in the face of adversity caused by horrible penmanship and bad luck. He approaches Hashirama's desk and proceeds to rummage through all the visible and hidden contents in hopes of finding a copy. If the Hokage followed his advice and instructions, if he deigned to listen to Tobirama's damned recommendations, then he should have written it twice.

Or so he hopes.

Papers fly here and there as his frustration mounts, that wonderful dream of finishing his pending assignment looking farther and farther away, embarrassing decorations from his best friend raining down on the floor. He lets out another angry scream, thankful again to be alone in the room, pounding on the wood to the point of breaking it completely.

Shit.

"Bad day?" A female voice asks, and it sounds way too close for him to have imagined it. He knows that voice, yet it is not a petulant memory from the past, but an actual event in the same room. Memories come flooding back, the same tone he heard over and over again when she tried to impale him with her techniques. It takes him a minute before he dares to look up, but when he does, he understands not to be imagining anything.

"You look bad, need a hand?" he can't answer, can't find words to speak, and feels heat rising to his cheeks. It's one thing to see the girl you like fighting against you and always in a context of death and destruction, yet a totally different one is to appreciate her after years, casually dressed and with no deadly intentions.

(Y/N) looks even more beautiful than how he remembers her, stunning body covered by civilian garments, coaxing eyes looking at him with a tone of laughter on her wonderful face. The lack of armor allows him to admire the gorgeousness of her curves, how smooth her skin looks, and-.

"Madara?" She shakes him out of his stupor with a snap of her fingers, forcibly bringing him back to earth and landing on his ass. He blinks a few times and produces a few babbles before finding coherence inside his head again.

"Yeah, no, I mean... (Y/N)?"

"The one and only." She smiles harmoniously, her face beaming with the gesture and making him reassess whether he is dreaming or not. "I was instructed to bring this to you, you know how politics works." She hands over a sealed scroll, one the Uchiha receives with clumsy hands. He ends up having to take off his gloves for accurate finger control, opening the delivery's contents and feeling his soul returning to his body.

"Tobirama figured it would be beneficial for you, he didn't have much hope for the Hokage's work." She simply explains with a relaxed posture, like not having a care in the world. While Madara feels like he might pee his pants at how intimidatingly beautiful he finds his wife... the, woman, she seems totally unaffected.

He confirms this is the document he screwed up, but it's a legible, polished version, traced by the albino's handwriting and thoughts, proofread probably about three times before having the final product. Composure returns, and he feels like an idiot for the scene he put together, such simple solutions delivered by the angel in front of him.

"I see you're still as fierce as ever, huh? You should learn to control that anger, dear. War is over and life is beautiful." The woman winks and pats his arm, smiling again before turning and heading for the door.

It's now or never.

"WOULDYOULIKETOHAVEADRINKWITHME?!" The question sounds more like a barked demand than an invitation, but it gets (Y/N) to look back at him with amusement. She comes closer again, each step executed with both grace and elegance, making Madara feel like a little boy in front of the love of his life.

Is she the love of his life? Probably, yes.

"Are you asking me out, Uchiha?" she purrs mischievously, savoring the taste of having her former enemy basically at her feet. Madara never felt so vulnerable, and he hates every second it took him to work up the courage to ask her out. Impulses are not always good, and just as he is about to retract his proposal, the woman invades his personal space to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"When and where, Madara?"

EXAMPLE OF A SPECIAL AND UNIQUE ADDED SCENARIO

#uchiha madara x reader #madara uchiha x reader #madara x reader #uchiha madara #madara uchiha #madara #naruto founders #hashirama senju #senju hashirama #hashirama #tobirama senju #senju tobirama #tobirama #uchiha clan #senju clan #naruto x reader #ko fi commissions #commission #kofi commission

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draculasfavoritewife · 5 months

Text

Let Me Patch You Up

Summary: Getting your partner to sit still and let himself be taken care of has always been a challenge.

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of canon-typical violence, mild blood/injury, Din tries to hide his wounds because of course he would. Lots of fluff, sensuality, and hella implied smut at the end.

Because I adore patching-up fics :) Especially when one person is far too stubborn for their own good and the other is a caretaker type. 'Nuff said.

*Translations of less common words/phrases in Mando'a at the end

"I'm not mad!"

You can hear the sigh behind you, longer and heavier than a New Republic frigate.

"You sound mad."

"All I'm saying is they should've paid double for the extra abuse! Their intel was way off." You scowl and rattle the pouch of currency for emphasis. "I didn't sign up for this job to fistfight an Aqualish, Din. An Aqualish!"

"You came out alright." There's a layer of warmth there now, sunk deep under the weariness. "Wish I could have seen more of it."

"I'll tell the Kid the story later, I'm sure." You gaze down at the dark bruising creatively decorating your arms and midsection with a wince. "Good thing I'm not vain anymore."

"Makes you look tough." His tone is clipped as he leans on the switch to pull up the boarding ramp of the ship. You can imagine his jaw clenching beneath the helmet; for all his beskar, he must be pretty roughed up, too. Aqualish may be brutal, but at least they're still flesh and blood.

Enforcer droids don't suffer from such weaknesses as pain and fatigue.

"How're you holding up, Cyare?" You keep the query casual -- he hates being fussed over.

You've learned from many previous jobs that your partner, when injured, has to be handled as cautiously and cleverly as a twitchy Blurrg; he's just as liable as one to bolt or take a bite out of an unguarded hand.

"Fine." He turns to make for the cockpit, tries to disguise the fact that he's still leaning on the wall for support under the pretense of examining the internal wiring. "Wind knocked out of me. Some sleep and I'll be in top form again."

He pauses at the foot of the ladder and gazes upward, the distance to the pilot's chair suddenly seeming excruciatingly long. As he ponders the best way to proceed, his dexterous fingers absently seek out the end of the small blade buried in his left shoulder, and yank it out.

No sound leaves his lips, he's far too conditioned for that, but he can't hide from you forever.

"Din?"

"Hmm?" He's still studying the length of the ladder.

"Dank farrik, Cyare, you're bleeding." Now truly concerned, you throw your subterfuge out the window and reach for his arm. Sometimes even a wild Blurrg just has to be wrangled into submission after all. "I'm going to fix you up, Din, and you're going to behave for me while I do."

"But I can still --"

"No."

"But you're --"

"No."

"What if --"

"Stop protesting, Di'kut! I won't have you collapsing on me if I could have done something about it." You push him down -- somewhat gently -- onto a cargo crate in the hold, stepping down on the edge of his cape as you search for the medkit.

He glances down at your firmly planted boot, up at your serious face. "Really?" he asks dryly.

"I'm not taking any chances with you, my love," you inform him sweetly, reaching around his body to press the releases on his cuirass and pauldrons. "You have this unfortunate habit of disappearing to lick your wounds in solitude whenever I take my eyes off of you for a moment."

"It's worked this long, hasn't it?" he mutters gruffly, but he knows well enough by now to not protest and aid you in removing his vambraces and finally his shirt.

It steals your breath for a brief second as it always does, the sight of him half-undressed but with his identity still shrouded from you.

Mesmerizing.

Alluring.

A tantalizing mystery that one day you desire to fully uncover.

But you know now is not the time.

Your rapidly heating thoughts are interrupted by a squeal from Grogu as he shuffles across the floor to stand by your legs. His tiny clawed hands grip your calf as wide, frightened eyes absorb the canvas of smeared blood and old scars spread across the Mandalorian's broad chest.

"Hey, Kid," Din says softly.

"Your buir is okay," you tell the little one, lifting him up to set him on the crate beside his father. "Maybe you can make him stay put for me."

Din insists he's not too badly off to help you, and you know he's still not comfortable being completely at the mercy of someone else's hands, so you let him handle the smaller task of cleaning up his stab wounds while you cauterize them. You still remember the first time you watched him do it himself, how you hated the way he hissed and spat in pain every time the tool slipped or stuck on lacerations that were awkward for him to reach.

He'd never admit so aloud, but with your more delicate touch behind it, it's a fair sight less painful of a process than it used to be.

"Still think I shouldn't have knocked them around until they coughed up more pay?" You let your fingertips skate gently over the taut bronze skin before you, checking for any sign of tenderness that could indicate an internal injury.

"You hungry for more bruises?" He shakes his head. "I know I'm not. We got what we came for. Sometimes renegotiating is pointless, Cyar'ika."

"I guess." You're kneeling on the floor now, his broad thighs on either side of your body as you finish closing up a slash to his abdomen, its rough line trailing down to his belt. Your hand tenderly follows the new scar, drifting over textured skin.

His muscles harden abruptly beneath your light touch, and it makes you smirk. He's always been a little ticklish there; it's an unspoken weak spot of his.

"What's really got you so worked up?"

Even exhausted he's still as sharp as ever.

You let out a long breath. "When are you going to stop trying to hide from me when you're hurt?"

That surprises him. "I don't...."

"Don't deny it. You tried to fly this heap of scrap with a knife embedded in you, Din."

"I would have taken care of it sooner or later."

"Probably later!"

He's staring, helplessly trying to figure out why his habits have disturbed you so deeply. "I haven't died yet," he points out in a monotone that would be hilarious under different circumstances.

You lean into his midsection, cheek resting against his ribcage. The familiar scent of sweat and slight charring from the cauterizer calms you, bringing with it delicious memories of sleepless nights and long, hot showers. Your choppy breaths even out as you search for the best words to express what you want to tell him, and your hands massage into his lower back, drawing a sound halfway between a sigh and a groan from him as aching muscles finally loosen to your persistent kneading.

"You're the closest thing I have left to aliit," you murmur at last, catching a shiver from him at the movement of your lips against his chest.

Still so sensitive to touch.

"As you are alor of our little clan, I would follow your way in all matters." You lift your eyes to meet that gleaming ebony visor, seeing the forward tilt to his helmet that means he's truly listening to everything you say, not merely hearing.

"Yet as the one I would consider my riduur, in soul if not by ceremony, you must know that even my respect for you is overridden by my own selfishness. I can't let you be careless with your life, ner'kar'ta. Even a beroya needs a cabur sometimes."

His hands, finally ungloved, slowly drift up to cradle your face, roughened fingers burying themselves in your hair. "I...will try, Mesh'la. Understand this is all still strange to me. But I do not want to cause you pain. Or be a burden on your worries. I will fall back into old habits some days, so I just ask your patience."

Relief wells up within you, and you all but let yourself fall into his lap. "Thank you. I don't know what I would do if you ever --"

"K'uur, ner'cyare." He shushes you and leans back against the stack of crates behind him, taking care not to crush Grogu who has been playing with his cast-off armor. "No more of this talk. I just want your touch for a moment. Gedet'ye."

Lying half on top of his reclined body, you exhale, telling those stubborn thoughts to let go of you for now. There will always be time for fear. The times in between hardships and fears are the rare ones, these sparse moments when you and your Mandalorian are gifted with a small respite from the inherent challenges of your lifestyle. These blessed breaths in which all that exists before you is the little aliit you have formed together, and his warm skin beneath your palms, and his heart beating beside your ear.

"Like this?" you hum, pressing your lips to the center of his chest, taking in the cherished taste of him, tracing the story of his life from the faded scars beneath your kiss.

"Jate?"

There's a shudder in the answering breath that rasps through his vocoder. "Jatne," he confirms, fingertips digging into your shoulder blades.

You keep kissing him, losing yourself in his deadly, battered body, and the way that his caresses answer your searching mouth.

As you push forward to go for his throat, however, you suddenly find his powerful legs pinning you in your place, holding you back from the kill.

"What -- ?"

"Hold, Cyar'ika," he grits out between his teeth. "No more."

You stop struggling against the iron hold of his legs. "Oh! Am I hurting you?"

"...No...." He jerks his head meaningfully in the direction of the Kid, who is still playing among the boxes. "But you can't tease me like this with him in the room. That's VERY unfair of you."

Catching on, you smirk and pull back out of his grip, not missing the way he almost thinks about not letting you go so easily. "Who said I was teasing?"

He huffs. "Then we really need to stop. Poor Kid's been traumatized enough in his life." A calculating look passes over the visor, sliding from you over to Grogu and back again. "Though I might be able to get him down for a nap."

You push him all the way down and straighten up, lifting the Kid in your hands. "Better let me, then. He gets clingier when he can tell you're impatient." You nudge his leg with your knee as you leave the hold, ignoring his disapproving stare.

"Besides, you need to cool down there for a bit, Djarin."

He knows you're flirting hard when you use that name for him. And it's just a tiny bit cruel of you to leave him all alone like that, simmering in his thwarted frustration.

Half an hour later, your small charge finally dozing off, you let yourself into Din's cramped quarters, realizing only too late that you've walked right into a trap. It's dark as the belly of a sarlacc in here, and you're pinned between a wall and a heavily breathing Mandalorian before you can even react.

"You're late, Mesh'la," he growls close to your ear, his scruff scraping your cheek. "And you know I get...restless...when I'm kept waiting."

"Oh trust me, I do." You melt into his trapping embrace as his mouth starts to blaze a trail across your flesh; inhibited by his creed in the light, Din more than makes up for his inability to reciprocate once the lights have gone out and all bets are off. "But be gentle, Cyare."

"A little Loth-cat once told me she likes it rough."

There -- the tempting threat of teeth skimming the base of your throat. You can't keep yourself from trembling slightly with anticipation.

"Just don't reopen any of your wounds, Din, I'm serious."

"To hell with that." A couple skillful maneuvers and you're laid out on his bed, still locked in his arms. "Now, are you ready to finish what you started back there?"

"Dank farrik."

You smirk at his sighed expletive, pulling him in closer until you can feel the softness of his damp curls falling across your chest.

"Now remember, you can't complain about being stiff tomorrow," you chide through a kiss to the top of his head. "I tried to tell you to take it easy."

He shrugs. "I've lived through worse. And it was worth it."

"Mmhmm. I definitely won't deny that." You stretch out your own depleted limbs, sure that the tapestry of bruising will look worse come morning. But he's right. Times like this make all of it worth it, the moments in which he is not Mando'ade and you are not dar'manda, but simply two people alone in a brutal galaxy, who love each other deeply and don't get to tell the other as often as they deserve to hear it. When it's just you and your beroya in the dark, relying on skin brushing skin to see and wordless exclamations of love to take the place of eloquent poetry, all of the struggles are worth it.

This life and its pitfalls are never easy, but you have him, and he is what matters.

"What are you smiling about?" you murmur, as his full lips break into a rare grin against your chest.

"Only that maybe it would perhaps benefit me to come to you more often when I'm injured." His voice is silky, deceptively innocent as a hand strokes its way upward to find your jawline.

"After all," and he leans into a chaste Keldabe kiss even as his touch once again turns suggestive, "I can tell you, none of my solitary patch-ups ever ended with anything like this."

You arch into him and claim his lips with your own, smiling into his mouth.

"Then you can consider this possible incentive for the future, Djarin."

Di'kut = Idiot

Aliit = Family/Clan

Alor = Leader

Ner'kar'ta = My heart

Beroya = Bounty hunter

Cabur = Protector

K'uur = Hush

Gedet'ye = Please

Jate/Jatne = Good/Best

Mando'ade = Child of Mandalore

Dar'manda = Not Mandalorian

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #x reader #female reader #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #mandalorian and grogu #hurt/comfort #sentimental #romance #hes so hot #bounty hunter #suggestive #favorite tropes #im completely normal about this #my love #sexy

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itsonlydana · 2 years

Note

Heyo Dana :D you have the same name as one of my irl friends lol, anyways can I get a sbi + winged little sibling reader? Like maybe hybrid school au and their the only winged hybrid so they feel a bit out of place or smth- idk it's just an idea I needed out of my brain. Anyways have a good day and make sure you drink some water and eat something!!

"those who don't mind matter"➷ sleepy bois inc

➛ pairing: c!sbi & winged sibling!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

➛ idea: being the only winged hybrid in your new school took a toll on your self-confidence, but that is nothing that can't be fixed by some good old cuddling on the couch with your family

➛ words: 2,1k

➛ tags/warnings: fluff, tiny bit of hurt/comfort, swearing

➛ an: your friend is like soo cool because of that name! I apologize for how long it took me to write this- tbh i lost motivation to write sbi for a while but now i finally sat down and wrote it in one go. Hope you enjoy it anon!

important links: rules + masterlist

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

you were never insecure about your wings - how could you be when from an early age you were praised by your family for them and any insecurity was smothered in the bud before they could even sprout

even if three of your older brothers were wingless, they tried their best so that you would not feel different. You loved each other for your differences

especially in the early days when your wings were growing and you had to learn how to use them, you did not feel alone, for Phil walked every step with you by his hand and guided you through all the new and unfamiliar things that he had to go through as well

he gave you flying lessons with Techno, Will and Tommy cheering you on from the ground (and rushing to help when it looked like you were going to crash)

all four of them helped you preen your wings, a task each of them performed with care, pride and honor. It was hard for you to groom your wings alone, but as soon as you realized it was time again, all you had to do was sit in front of one of your brothers, and immediately they knew what to do

it was relaxing and strengthened the bond and trust between you all the more, made you feel like family even if you were not blood related

when the invitation to Hybrid School came, Phil was the most excited and raved about the wonderful memories of his school days filled with friendships and adventures. You just had to bring up the subject and a dreamy smile spread across his face and his gaze disappeared into the distance

even if you weren't sure what it would be like to be in a new environment with complete strangers and to be away from your family for several hours a day, Phil was happy enough for both of you - besides, things couldn't be all that bad

The front door clicked into place with a barely audible "clack," and the handle was released as quietly as it could be with that creaky thing. It seemed to work, because the clatter of dishes from the kitchen didn't stop, nor did the clamor of Tommy and Will from the brightly lit living room. You would have to pass both rooms to walk up the stairs to your own bedroom, and so you stopped indecisively in the dark hallway, the straps of your backpack clutched tightly in your hands.

From the smells coming from the kitchen, Phil was probably cooking your favorite meal, just as he had promised you: "After your first day of school, I'll cook you whatever you want and then you can tell us how great it was!" You were looking forward to finally being able to wish for dinner without Tommy complaining, but now you weren't sure if you would be able to eat a single bite; even swallowing was difficult because of the lump in your throat. And then there were the rocks in your stomach and the loss of appetite, despite the prospect of your favorite freshly cooked meal that Phil must have gone to extra trouble for today.

You leaned slightly to the side, brushing off your one shoe with one foot and then the other, pushing the pair you'd already worn through to the pile of other shoes lying around in front of the shoe rack where only Phil's shoes were on the otherwise empty bars. Unfortunately, in doing so, you stepped on one of the floor ledges, which groaned loudly enough at even the slightest touch to wake the whole house. Tense, you held your breath.

"(y/n)?" you heard Phil call over the rumbling that was coming from the living room.

Crap

Before you could answer, the blond was already poking his head into the hallway, as expected a gleam on his face that made your worry of disappointing him run cold down your neck. "I didn't hear the door at all. Take off your jacket and come in, dinner's almost ready. You don't even have to help anymore, just sit at the table. I'm sure you can't wait to tell us about your day, we're all very excited mate!"

During his flow of words you could hardly look Phil in the eye. Instead, you dropped your backpack on the floor. For a moment you considered storming up the stairs and fabaricading your door. If you didn't get out, the others couldn't get in either, and you wouldn't have to answer any questions, and you wouldn't have to get out tomorrow!

The plans you made in your mind were thwarted by two giants rushing out of the living room, because suddenly you found yourself in the arms of Will and Tommy and how could you keep your dams up?

A sob drowned out every sound and silenced the excited questions of your brothers and one sob was followed by another and within seconds you were pressing your tear stained face against Will's familiar yellow sweater. It happened in a matter of seconds, the crash in the kitchen as Phil dropped everything and stormed into the hallway. Even Techno's room door on the second floor opened, even if he couldn't possibly have heard the crying, and flew down the stairs.

"What happened? Did something happen?" asked Techno, visibly ready to take on anyone who was even slightly to blame for your condition.

"(y/n), hey everything is fine," Will tried to reassure you, one arm wrapped around you and the other patting your head lovingly. You didn't want to let go of him at all, your hands were clasped behind his back in an attempt to feel caught again after a day of completely out of control situations.

"School was awful," your tears quickly soaked the sweater, as soon as you started crying you couldn't hold anything back. All day you had been suppressing these feelings, trying not to let on how overwhelmed you felt being alone in this new environment and now that you were back with your family it was impossible to keep these walls up. Their love was overpowering, you didn't want to hide from them.

A meaningful silent conversation took place over you between your brothers, after which you stepped from the dark hallway into the warmth of your living room - you continuing to press against Will, for you dared not look Phil in the eye.

A cool glass of water and a shuffling around on the couch until everyone had found their place, later, you told your family about the day you'd just had. You began by saying how impressed you were with the old walls of the castle, which had served as a school for hybrids of all kinds for centuries now, and how you couldn't take your eyes off the battlements, sloping towers, and magical-looking courtyard. However, the magic of the castle and the feeling of being a part of something big and secret faded as soon as you stepped into the hall with all the other first-years and quickly realized that you were the only one with magnificent feathers. Of course, there were fairy hybrids whose fragile glassy wings glistened in the sunlight, and there had been a group of older dragon hybrids with gigantic leathery wings that could fling you into the air with a powerful push, but no one was like you. You had been startled to realize that....

"I was completely alone," you finished your narration, and again quickly drank a sip of water before tears could once again make their way up. With that burden lifted from your shoulders for the time being, you leaned against Phil to your right, exhausted. He didn't look disappointed at all, you noticed from the angle you were resting on his shoulder, much more sympathetic and as he looked down at you a warm smile played around his lips.

Tommy, sitting next to Phil with the armrest at his back and his legs intertwined like a pretzel, again screwed up his face. "But just because no one else has wings like yours, doesn't mean you're alone! There are a lot of kids and really none of these thousands wanted to be friends with you?"

"Can't get more insensitive than that, can you?", Will clicked his tongue before poking you in your left side. "You can never expect too much from your first day. Most people are overwhelmed with it anyway because it's new and unfamiliar. Don't let it get you down that you haven't found anyone to get into mischief with yet. I'm sure that will come once you all get settled." Even though he was right somewhere, you didn't dare approach anyone either, it was different.

Remembering back to the introductions in your class, how everyone had some friend or sat together in groups. "No one will want to talk to me," you sighed, raising your glass only to mumble in it as you drank, "Not after one of the cool guys said I looked like a pulled chicken."

"HE DID WHAT?" Techno's previously quiet voice filled the room like a thunderclap, sudden and loud enough to make you flinch. The pink-haired man's red eyes were able to pierce a hole through you with the sharpness in them, and you were glad that the anger wasn't really directed at you, otherwise you would have been guaranteed to run for the hills by now. Techno's back was pushed straight through, his thighs strained, and he looked like it was costing him everything not to jump up from his usually comfortable position next to Will. Will, however, didn't really look calm either, his soft gaze had become hard and he gritted his teeth under his tense jaw.

You looked from the twins, who looked more alike than ever at that moment, to Tommy. His jaw lay ready to be picked up from the floor.

One hand rested on your thigh, the other under your chin, turning your head so that you looked at Phil. He spoke your name softly, quietly and gently and full of warmth that put a band-aid on all the wounds of the day. "First, and it's the most important thing you need to know in your life, is that you are perfect just the way you are," he began and you were almost ready to cry again. You made an effort to keep looking him in the eyes, even if Phil seemed more hurt about these events than you were "and secondly, you can't let comments like that get to you, okay? The ones who think they can judge you aren't important, but the ones who don't mind matter."

"Because they're complete bullshit!" shouted Tommy indignantly, and despite the expletive, he was not admonished by Phil. Instead, the elder nodded in agreement, which only spurred the young blond to continue, "They're talking trash, irrelevant lies because they're idiots! Jerks! Ass-"

Before he could utter the last expletive, there came an urging, long-drawn-out "Tommy" after all, to which he only gave you a braces-presenting satisfied grin.

"Phil he's right" Will fell back into the couch cushions behind you and threw his legs up on the small coffee table in front of you "The little rug rat has no idea who he's messed with"

"Messed with?" Alarmed, Phil tensed next to you and his eyebrows shot up at Techno's nod.

"Messed with" Techno confirmed, looking thoughtfully around the room "We could come with you tomorrow and dangle him off one of the towers"

"Or we could dunk him in the fountain for revenge, then he'd have to walk around with wet pants on" Tommy suggested.

"Or," Phil firmly interrupted the creative exchange of ideas on how your brothers could get back at the boy "Or we approach the teacher and settle it without violence"

The three boys sighed, you began to grin. At the saddened faces, you leaned back against Will, patting Techno with one hand and smiling at Tommy. "I'm very grateful to you, but you don't have to be my bodyguards. I can handle it on my own. It was just a stupid comment from someone I don't know and from now on I'll just stay away from him."

Before you knew it Phil's wings spread out behind you all, pressing you all closer until you were lying in a heap on top of each other, arm in arm, some foot half in your stomach, but together. Maybe tomorrow wouldn't be so bad, maybe you'd even meet a friend with whom you could do all the nonsense Phil had experienced in his time at school.

And if things didn't go well, the four self-proclaimed bodyguards sitting outside the school gate in sunglasses would immediately come to the rescue.

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cheeriecherrymain · 1 year

Note

The flooding of the "domestic/relationship situation prompts that make my heart warm" prompts

(2 of 5)

#12 - saying goodbye over and over because they keep forgetting things and coming back

(This can go either way, as someone with ADHD I do this constantly - but also the reader making Viktor give goodbye kisses every time would be adorable)

LITERALLY ME THO i would forget my own head if it wasn't attached to me

Viktor x Reader

-So this probably goes hand in hand with the last little headcanon scenario, before the two of you figure out how to help his forgetfulness at home.

-Before you start leaving notes out for him, he probably just Tries Really Hard To Remember Things. Which honestly doesn’t help him much, because he’s groggy in the morning, and no amount of coffee is going to wake his mind up: if he forgets something, and there’s no visual prompt for him to tie to it, it’s forgotten.

-It’s led to a lot of funny moments.

-Especially since you rise later than him.

-He always kisses you good morning, and rouses you slightly, but you fall back asleep. He does the same thing again right before he leaves - presses a kiss to your cheek or forehead, and wishes you a good day (sometimes you reply, but most of the time you just mumble incoherently from the edge of sleep).

-His memory gets better as he wakes up, once his morning coffee kicks in and he starts to gain some awareness. Unfortunately, he’s almost always on the way to the lab at that point. Sometimes he’s a few minutes away from your front door, sometimes he’s almost all the way to work, but he always remembers something during that period, and it’s always something important.

-So he ambles back home as fast as he can manage to hunt down whatever it is he’s looking for. Which…he’s still kind of tired, okay? So he doesn’t really remember where he leaves things.

-But you do.

-And he feels bad for waking you, especially since you look so sweet with your face smashed into your pillow as you quietly snore. But he needs to get to work, so…he gently nudges you. And nudges you some more. And then a little more. Until you finally make a noise of complaint and open an eye.

-The moment you see him leaning over you, you smile and ask, “What have you lost, love?” and then direct him to it when he sheepishly tells you.

-He kisses you goodbye again, and heads out the door. You could go back to sleep after that, but how likely would it be that you would be woken again?

-Very likely, you think, when you notice his notebook still on the windowsill in your room. You grab it from where it sits, and clutch it to your chest as you sleepily make your way around the apartment. From room to room, you pick out little things that he had mentioned the night before - specific pens, some special paper, one of his old workbooks, an angled ruler, his lunch.

-You pack it all into an extra satchel and wander into the front hallway to set it by the door.

-Right as he comes bustling in, looking frazzled and somewhat impatient.

-You look at him with a knowing smile. As soon as you offer him the bag from your hand, his posture relaxes, and he slips the strap over his shoulder.

- “I believe that’s everything,” you tell him, with a lopsided grin. “If I find anything else, though, I’ll bring it to you at lunch.”

- “What would I do without you?” he asks, tenderly taking your face in his hands.

- “You’d be like an hour late for work every single day,” you joke. But he just rolls his eyes and pulls you into a kiss. It’s sweet, it’s soft, and you have half the mind to make him even more late to his job…but you spare him. At least for now.

-He bids you a good day for the third time, and disappears out the door, shutting it quietly behind himself. You stand there for a couple moments, leaning against the wall while you smile like a charmed schoolgirl.

-Until your gaze zeroes in on the little tray that sits on the shelf by the entrance.

-He forgot his keys.

#viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #viktor headcanons #domestic fluff prompts

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candyvenombites · 4 months

Text

Mickey and Friends X Madoka Magica

Wishes and Abilities

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

Hey! It’s been awhile! I’ve been pretty busy with school and other personal projects, but today I had time so I’m gonna make a quick post about my Disney x Madoka Magica AU!

I’m gonna showcase some of the characters wishes, the ability they got, their weapon, and a little bit of info!

Let’s get to it!

⚠️Spoilers Ahead for Madoka Magica⚠️

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

Mickey Mouse

Wish: ???

Ability: Energy Blasts

Weapon: Rapier Sword

Info: Much like Madoka Kaname, Mickeys wish varies from timeline to timeline and his main ability is unknown, but he can fire energy blasts through his rapier. I mainly based the weapon off of ‘The Three Musketeers’ because I thought he’d look cool in a musketeer like outfit.

Donald Duck

Wish: “I wish my boys could be with their great uncle…”

Ability: Water Manipulation

Weapon: Trident

Info: Donald is the Sayaka of the story, especially in wish sense. If you know you know. Donald’s ability and weapon are inspired by him being a sailor.

Goofy Goof

Wish: “Please…Heal my son and me…Save us…”

Ability: Advanced self healing

Weapon: Gauntlets

Info: Goofy is one of the most experienced magicals around. He was 20 years old when he made his wish and he is now 38. He’s kept the territory for a long time and is a very strong magical.

Minnie Mouse

Wish: “I wish my family could make things grow”

Ability: Plant Manipulation

Weapon: Bow and Arrow

Info: Minnie’s wish has a lot of head-cannon, but basically she grew up on her family farm and her family almost lost it due to her parents not being able to grow plants, so she made her wish. I imagine her outfit to be kind of fairy like

Daisy Duck

Wish: “I wish to be a successful fashion designer”

Ability: Cloth Manipulation

Weapon: Daggers

Info: Daisy was the first character I made for this AU and has a more simple yet elegant design in my head. The fashion designer idea came from Ducktales 2017

Panchito Romero Miguel Junipero Francisco Quintero Gonzalez lll

Wish: “Please help my brother sing. Help him become a famous star!”

Ability: Sound Manipulation

Weapon: Duel Pistols

Info: Panchitos story was challenging, because it was hard to make this upbeat and kind man into a Kyoko, but after giving him a little brother it was way easier! I knew immediately what his wish would relate to but I needed make a story that matched.

Jose Carioca

Wish: “I wish for everyone to forget my negative reputation”

Ability: Illusions

Weapon: Umbrella (Can split into a shield and spear)

Info: Josè has a lot of regret over what he wished for, but that doesn’t stop him from surviving. He survived purely for Panchito and his nephews. If anything were to happen to them then his soul gem would go completely black.

Oswald The Lucky Rabbit

Wish: “I wish that I could go back and save my brother…I want to be the one to protect him!”

Ability: Time Manipulation

Weapon: Shield/Explosives

Info: Oswald is 100% the Homura of the story. I was debating over Donald or him, but I eventually went with Oswald due to the relationship he has with Mickey. Obviously the love is different but he fights just as hard as Homura.

Extras

Felicity Fieldmouse

Wish: “I wish I could make news stories happen.”

Ability: Mind Control

Weapon: Camera (Takes control of people’s minds after snapping a photo and can freeze enemies)

Info: Taking Felicity and turning her into a magical girl was tricky, but after learning that she is devoted to her job, I made her wish also devoted to it. To provide for her family and to keep her career she made a contract

Della Duck

Wish: “I always want to be on an adventure!”

Ability: Creature Construction (Can create any creature)

Weapon: Sword

Info: What if instead of flying to the moon, Della became a magical girl and disappeared without a trace one day. Unlike her brother, Della would most likely make a contract immediately and not truly think about the risk of becoming a magical girl, thus putting her in a lot of danger.

Gladstone Gander

Wish: “I want nothing but good luck. Let me have my cousin's great luck!”

Ability: Luck Energy Manipulation (Gives a person bad luck or good luck for a short period of time)

Weapon: Long Circular Saw

Info: This one also has a lot of head-cannon, but I think that originally Donald had all the luck and Gladstone was very unlucky. He was so jealous that he made a contract to steal his cousins good luck. He didn’t intend to make his cousin miserable, but he doesn’t have a lot of regret about making his wish (Who would be when they’re so lucky all the time?)

Drake Mallard ( Darkwing Duck)

Wish: “I want to inspire others like my hero inspired me”

Ability: Temporary Emotion Manipulation

Weapon: Versatile Grappling Hook

Info: Darkwing was fun to make in terms of wish and abilities, but he was also fun to make in his downfall. Darkwing can have a black and white view of things, so when things start to get hazy, it might start taking a bad toll on him. Right and wrong start to blur and he just begins to lose it.

And that’s the last one for now! I hope you enjoyed and if you did, let me know if there’s anyone else to cover!

💕🍬Stay Sweet🍬💕

#the three caballeros #donald duck #disney #madoka magica au #AU #fan made #disney au #disney x Madoka Magica au #madoka magika #disney fandom #madoka magica fandom #mickey mouse #the three cabarellos #darkwing duck #fyp #disney fan fiction #puella magi madoka magica #Madoka Magica fanficiton

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itsmaferart · 2 years

Text

Small theories #4

(Warning: manga spoilers)

In my last analysis I highlighted the relationship Twilight once had with his mother. And what he wished he had when he was a lonely boy, scared and lost in the middle of a war.

It was the warm arms of his mother

Which made me think, if in an alternate line, Twilight hadn't lost her mother, he and Yuri might be a lot alike.

Perhaps if Twilight hadn't lost his mother, he would have dedicated his life to protecting her. Since it is the only trace of love left in the world. Perhaps, he would not have been a soldier or a spy... or if he became one, he would be in charge of protecting peace and avoiding war to give him a peaceful life of his mother

After all, Twilight is also someone very protective, especially when someone tries to attack someone he loves (Although sometimes he doesn't recognize it)

I think the genuine reason Twilight was envious of Yuri. It is that Yuri lost his mother and father, but Yor was there to cover that place. He always had someone who cared about him and gave everything to preserve his happiness.

Instead, the only person who could give him that disappeared long ago.... Remaining only in his memories

It's funny, since Yuri and Twilight are totally different people, and their respective jobs make them declared enemies.

But, in extra chapters, Yuri has been able to empathize with other people when he understands that they want to protect his family. And although, the mind of the Briar brothers is very crooked. For the traumas they must suffer, for having been raised as two children, without any adult figure to take responsibility (And that Yoru became a murderer very young). Twilight at least if he had been raised with an adult with life experience (Something that Yuri and Yor did not have)

Thus, in the midst of so many differences, both characters would not be as different as it is believed. Maybe in the future, this little line will make two rivals get along.

I hope you enjoyed this little note. It occurred to me, while doing the previous analysis. So consider this as a Bonus+

#yor forger #spy x family #twiyor #loid forger #yor briar #loid x yor #twilight #anya forger #sxf #spyxfamily twilight #yuri briar #loid forger/twilight #thron princess #Twiyor #sxf manga #Spyxfamilymanga #SxF Small theories

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itty-bitty-mess · 7 months

Text

TW: BITTYBONES AB//USE, BITTY WHUMP, BITTY T*RT//URE

Currently thinking about bitties being adopted to complete certain tasks that are usually hard for humans, like reaching very narrow places or finding very tiny items. And once they're done, they get discarded like trash.

Imagine a bitty like a Cherry who is forced to do an extremely stress-inducing task. His anxiety is through the roof and he won't stop crying. He hates it, he can't do it, he wants to throw up, this ammount of stress is NOT healthy for his breed. Oh but Mommy promised a warm bed and yummy food after this, so maybe he can! Yes! He will do it for Mommy no matter how much this traumatizes him, because she loves him very much and she believes in him!!

Finally, he is done, and Little Cherry believes he's gonna get rewarded with a loving home and lots of cuddles from his new Mommy, he's so hungry too, so surely she will be glad to reward him with a little baked treat too! Mommy loves to bake and her treats smell delicious and super yummy! Mommy approaches little Cherry with a big smile on her face, he believes she must be sooo proud of him!! She gently takes one of his tiny bony arms, while Cherry looks at her with pure adoration in his eyes, and then....

*SNAP* Before he can even register it, she effortlessly snaps one of his arms in half like a toothpick. Cherry screams, of course. Oh god, it hurts so bad, its absolutely unbearable. The love and adoration in his eyes disappear and get replaced by confusion, panic and sheer terror. He's screaming and tears flood out of his eyes. He asks Mommy why she did that but she doesnt respond. Instead, before he can even pull his other arm away from her, she grabs it and yanks it off, making it pop off his arm socket and essentially leaving him arm-less.

Cherry screams like he's getting murdered. This ammount of stress can be lethal for his breed, but who cares, he's just a replaceable little piece of garbage. Just a tool Mommy bought because she needed some extra help. Since Cherry had done his job, he was now essentially useless to her and to the world in general. He was disposable.

All those promises of a loving home and yummy treats? just a simple tactic to get any bitty to willingly do unpleasant tasks for its owner, they always fall for it without fail, especially the weak, pathetic ones. Cherry is in so much pain. His arms are dusting at unbearably slow speed, he feels everything and needs it to stop. His face is now permanently stained red from his nonstop tears. His screams of agony are ear-piercing, but somehow Mommy doesn't seem bothered.

He begs Mommy to help him, he says he loves her and asks her why she is doing this if he did what she wanted. She doesn't respond, he's not even worth a simple answer. To her, he's simple, disposable trash no more valuable than a used napkin. She kicks him in one of his tiny legs and it snaps like a twig.

"NOOO- AAAAAAAAAA PLEASE MOMMY STOP IT HURTS, PLEASE HELP ME IT HURTS SO BAD, PLEASE I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU PLEASE IM SORRY"

She just laughs as she grabs him by the collar of his tiny red sweater, now stained with his tears, and takes him somewhere he cannot see. The position hurts his neck badly, it hurts. His entire body is in agonizing pain. He can't feel his leg or his now-dusted arms, however he can feel some empty gaps on his mouth where some of his teeth used to be, they probably fell off with all the hits he had taken by that point.

He began pissing himself like any other Cherry, as a built in survival tactic, hoping Mommy would pity his already pathetic nature and maybe spare his life. Thats just wishful thinking of course, because all that does is gross her out enough that she finally decides to toss him on some dirty dark alley, too far away from home or from any bitty shelter that could save him. Once Mommy tosses him, he hits the ground skull-first. Now his head spins and hurts as well.

She leaves the alley, her disappearing figure is probably one of the few things Cherry can make out before everything turns blurry. He cries once again, as the realization finally hits him a little too late. She never loved him, he was never gonna be adopted or loved, he was just a simple tool and a commodity to her. He had been abandoned and left to rot alone, dying slowly, bones broken irreparably, discarded like a piece of trash that is no longer of use. He was worthless.

The next morning, there's an extra pile of dust in that alley. But who cares, that's a common occurence anyways.

#bitty abuse #bitty whump #bitty bullying #bitty torture #bittybones #ok so like wow. this was intially a short post but then i edited it and uh got inspired. this was fun haha

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