#(unless it's already been done before. if so then my apologies!)

[silvoldoy]

I lay eyes on ONE chess piece character so, naturally, I was inspired.

These are more of 'concepts' than they are OC's. Like I was wondering what each chess piece might've looked like as characters in TADC, how they would play out, etc.

Here's the Bishop

The Knight

And the Rook

That adorable little Pawn piece in the last panel is Pawno! An OC by @s0ckh3adstudios (I love him I love him I love him)

[churipu]

hihi i love ur works sm and i was wondering if i can request where the reader has an argument w the jjk men?? preferably w nanamin + any other characters :3 thank you in advance ^___^

BAD BLOOD — ARGUMENTS WITH JJK MEN !

featuring. nanami kento, choso, megumi fushiguro x reader

warnings. cursing, yelling, slight angst (ends in fluff dw).

note. hi anon, thank you for loving my works, it means a lot to me. and i love this request, i've been feeling like crap for the whole day so this is just what i needed! i hope you like this one <;33 and for anons who have sent in request, i'm writing them down and keeping them in my drafts for daily posts, so don't worry about it!

NANAMI KENTO. i feel like arguments with nanami will be very soft but angry. nanami is a gentle person, and he just hates the thoughts of saying something hurtful to you — but do keep in mind that he won't always be very soft, he could be loud at times. but most of your arguments with him are soft spoken, the both of you exchanging thoughts and troubles.

for the past few days, nanami has been extremely overworked and so you're walking on eggshells around him. he gets sensitive, and the slightest bit of inconvenience angered him. yes, you get it — he's tired from his work, you could totally understand that. he's a busy man after all.

"kento, don't you want to take a break..? you've been working non-stop, you'll get sick," you eyed him, poking around your food.

nanami sat across from you, his eyes glued to a paper, and honestly, it was getting a little sickening. all you wanted to do was to talk to him, but you felt as if you were selfish if you asked the man to prioritize you over his work — so you stayed silent, for almost a week the two of you haven't exactly been conversing right, or talking unless it was an exchange of "hi"s and "bye"s. but that was about it.

"i need to get this done, wait a moment."

that phrase sounded like a template by now, and you huffed, rolling your eyes, "i know, i'm just worried about you. you're not getting enough sleep, you're not eating well, and at this point, i'm just afraid that you'll dig your own gra—"

"i can take care of myself, thank you. you don't have to worry about me, i know what i'm doing."

you can't help but to furrow your brows at his cold reply, a little offended when all you seemed to be doing was care for him. the least he could do was thank you for it, "god, you don't have to be such an ass about it. forgive me for caring then."

at this point, your words only added fuel to the already big fire. nanami stared at you, the exhaustion in his eyes are apparent, and his lips pursed into a thin line before he inhaled sharply, "you're being a child, i just told you i can take care of myself. please, don't argue with me on this. i'm tired with all these paperwork, don't add more burden for my shoulders."

you clicked your tongue, standing up, not wanting to engage on this particular conversation anymore, "well forgive me for caring and for being a burden. enjoy your dinner," was all you spat out at him before going to the living room — plopping your body down the couch.

arguments with him usually ends up with the both of you apologizing to each other, but this particular argument seemed to not just go the way how it usually does. a couple of hours later, none of you talked. you assumed that the male finished his dinner, and you saw him walk by you into your shared room.

the two of you refused to talk to each other, or even as little as making an eye contact. you figured that you'd just spend the night in the living room where the TV could keep you company, so you stormed inside your shared room where nanami was on the bed, eyes still on his beloved papers.

he said nothing, nor did he spare a glance at you. so you become a guest in your own bedroom and grabbed your pillow, it wasn't that chilly outside so you didn't grab the only blanket laying on the bed (you actually left it there for him to use, the ac could be pretty cold at times).

and he never came out, not until you fell asleep with the TV still on. nanami hadn't even slept, he'd gotten his work done hours ago — but still he couldn't sleep. not without you by his side.

the clock strikes fifteen minutes past three in the morning, and nanami pushed himself up from the bed — feeling the void beside him, even with the blanket; he felt cold. opening the door softly, he trudged out of the room, the sight of you all curled up on top of the couch, vivid lights shining from the TV still managing to light up the whole living room despite the lights being off.

he squats down in front of you, brushing your h/c hair out of your face and it made you turn in your sleep. although not enough to wake you up completely, nanami one of his arm under your upper back, and one under your legs. carrying you inside the room with soft steps before laying you down, not forgetting to tuck you under the blanket and leaving trails of butterfly kisses on your face.

he could finally sleep.

with the sun rays greeting you through the creases of your still covered window, you squirmed. groaning out.

"y/n?"

upon hearing nanami's voice, your eyes flutter open. of course — it was a surprise for you to wake up on the bed when you fell asleep on the couch, "did you carry me here?"

nanami nods, he was leaning onto the bed post, "i'm sorry. what i said to you was wrong," he softly said.

the anger you felt the other night was gone by now, and you were just glad that nanami was willing to talk to you. you shook your head with a small smile, "it was part of my fault too, you were working — i shouldn't have pestered you too much."

nanami wasted no time in pulling you towards him, "you were worried for me. never apologize for that."

like i said, arguments with nanami will always end pretty quickly (the two of you are mature enough to talk it out), oh and also? he spoils you the entire day after an argument so — have fun!

CHOSO. i feel like choso would be confused a lot during arguments with you, on one side i could see him being brazen with his words, and on the other side i could see him being careful with them. no in between, he's definitely scared of saying the wrong things to you — and you getting hurt emotionally, hurts him as well. so at times he just tries to end it quickly by saying sorry.

god, he hates seeing you sad. at the end of the day, if he did say things the wrong way (even if it was to defend himself when he's not wrong), choso will apologize to you for how he said his words (and you'll apologize for your mistake). but choso has his share of apologizing because of his mistake too.

"cho, are you listening to me? gosh, you never pay attention to what i'm saying, are you taking this seriously?" choso looks up at you with his brows furrowed, definitely frustrated by everything that was happening around him right now.

first of all, he expected today to be a very special day. he hasn't seen you for the past couple of days because you've been so busy with work, and he was so excited when you told him you'd be having a couple of days to rest. he couldn't wait to meet you and go out on dates with you.

but clearly, his expectations were shoved down the drain because here you both were — arguing over your work hours choso had brought up a few minutes prior. and all he said was that he wished that the both of you would have more time to spend together, which irked you.

it had been a rough week with work where you had to write and write and write on countless paperwork (which you couldn't really complain on because you signed up for the job). and you weren't afraid to admit that you were in the wrong this time, when all choso wanted was time with you. here you were, getting all riled up because he wished that he had more time with you, and if the roles were switched; you were pretty damn sure you'd say the same thing to him.

"'m sorry for bringing that up. can we go out now..? i don't wanna fight w' you." choso mumbled out, averting his gaze to the side.

his tone ripped you away from your anger and you sighed, pulling him into your embrace, "cho, 'm sorry. i shouldn't have taken my anger out on you just because i've had a rough week."

choso returned your embrace mutely, a small smile dawning upon his lips. he was just glad the argument was cut short. all he wanted to do now was to go out of this slump and make you the happiest person ever — even just for a moment, a couple of days before you eventually have to return back to work.

"cho, say something."

choso pulls away from your touch, "i forgive you. let's go out? missed you. so much."

for the rest of the day, you and choso had the most fun in a week. also, choso fell into a pond in the park because he wasn't looking at the road — and also, you might've called your boss to extend your rest day (by saying you weren't feeling well) so you could have more time to spend with your boyfriend.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO. i feel like megumi's the type of boyfriend who tries to stay out of arguments with you, if he was entangled in one where he isn't in the wrong — and you tell him to do something, he'd just kind of do it without any complaints. tell him to shut up? he shuts up. tell him to go away? he'll leave. tell him to leave you alone? he'll leave you alone (for a couple of hours).

but when he feels like things aren't ceasing, he'd try his best to negotiate with you and try to find out what the core of the problem is between the both of you. let's be real, megumi is a realistic type of person, he'd never admit that he's wrong when he isn't just to solve things the fast way, even to you; his own partner.

"y/n. how many times do i have to tell you that it's not that i'm bored of you alright? i've been busy. i'm not bored of you."

okay, you didn't expect one question to lead to this argument. all you asked him was a simple yes or no question: "are you bored of me?" and you didn't throw the question for no apparent reason, the reason behind that question itself was megumi's change of behavior the past two weeks.

he'd been extremely distant, and cold. whenever you asked him about it, he just tells you that he's tired. which you could totally understand since he is pretty busy, like uncle ben said: "with great power comes great responsibility."

being a jujutsu sorcerer is a big responsibility. you could understand where it was coming from, but when it happens again and again, you can't help but to overthink about it. overthink about how megumi might be bored of you and the whole relationship.

"megumi, i...okay— i'm sorry for asking about this. i was just worried." you tell him, not wanting to argue any longer about this whole thing, "i'm sorry, you must be stressed out with school and stuff."

megumi furrowed his brows, inhaling sharply, "no, no.. i'm sorry for lashing out. let's talk about this. i don't want you to get the wrong idea."

megumi explained everything from a to z, about how he was still so in love with you and he had been distant because of his power and what comes with it. it was pretty cute to listen to him talk, the constant flush on his face whenever he talks about you, and the stress in his voice when he talks about his power was apparent.

poor boy just needed a break.

"megumi, let's take a nap. you look like you need it."

"...i do."

argument ended. relationship stronger. and you both get to nap together, absolute win-win.

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !

[gh0stsp1d3r]

𝒪𝓃ℯ 𝒸ℴ𝓃𝒹𝒾𝓉𝒾ℴ𝓃

req: Can I request Rafe in love with Pope’s older sister who refuses to fall in love with him until he apologizes to Pope and changes his ways?

Warnings: readers pretty sassy but we love her for it.

MASTERLIST

Rafe swears he’s loved you since he set his eyes on you. He pushed those feelings down back then, because, well, you were a pogue. And a Heyward. Your brother hated his guts and he hated your brothers.

Now? He’s finally having to come to terms with his feelings that he’s kept hidden for so long. Rafe’s a changed man, he’s different. He’s not such an asshole anymore.

You’re on the beach, not too far from Rafe. His eyes linger on you throughout the whole trip, causing his friends to get annoyed with the boy.

"See that?” His friend pointed to two figures in the distance. “If you don't make a move, it seems like she's getting comfortable with that pogue over there," one of them remarked to Rafe. His jaw clenching as he noticed you and another boy playfully wrestling in the water.

He let out a frustrated sigh, shaking his head and turning his head the other away. "I don't care," he muttered, although deep down, he knew that he did care.

It isn’t until a bonfire night when he finally goes up to you. He’s staring at you from afar when he’s had enough. You walked away from his brother and his friends, going over to get a drink when someone spoke behind you.

“So,” the voice rasped out, you jumping and turning around, quirking an eyebrow when you come face to face with the Cameron boy.

“What do you want?” You sneered out, looking him up and down. Jesus, had he been working out or something? You thought. As much as you disliked the boy, you loved him. A sick, twisted part of you liked the boy.

But, you refused to ever fall in love with him. Unless he apologized for everything he did to your brother and his friends.

“Just wanted to say hi.”

“Yeah, well you’re lucky my brother isn’t beating your ass for talking to me right now.”

He shrugged, giving you a small smile. “What are you drinking?”

“Just water.” You sighed, looking down into the cup in your hands. “Designated driver. It’s what I get for being the older sibling, I guess.”

He snickered. “Always getting the short end of the stick.”

“Always.” You nodded in agreement, looking back up at the boy. “Why’d you wanna come say hi?”

He sighed again, tilting his head to the side. “I just wanted to talk. And…”

You raised your eyebrows, “go on…”

“You’re… you’re really gonna fucking make me say it?” He hesitated.

“I am.” You nodded with a small smirk, already knowing what he would say.

“Let me take you out on a date.” He finally spoke, your eyebrows furrowing, you pretended to be deep in thought. As if you haven’t already planned this out 10 times in your head.

“Hmmm… okay.”

He smiled, ready to speak again before you cut him off.

“But. One condition.”

“What? Condition?”

“Mhm.” You nodded. “You have to apologize to my brother and his friends for anything and everything you’ve done to them.”

Rare groaned, throwing his head back. “You’re joking, right?”

“No. Before you take me anywhere, you gotta do that.” You dug your finger into his chest, smiling back at the boy.

He shook his head, thinking for a moment, looking down at you. “Fuck! Okay, okay, fine.” He grumbled out, turning his head to where the group of pogues were, in disbelief he was about to do this.

You smiled when he walked over there slowly, glancing back at you every few seconds. He talked for a while, all of their faces ones of confusion, except for JJ. Who was laughing his ass off about the whole thing, even goinf to the length of actually slapping his knee.

Rafe had to suppress the urge to kick him in the fucking balls, but he walked away and he did it. With no kicking. He walked over to you, putting an arm around you.

“So?” You asked the boy.

“It went fine. Your brother still wants to punch me but… I think he can forgive me.” He said with a small smirk. “We going on that date?”

“Yes.” You rolled your eyes, but a small smile made its way onto your face as he pulled you closer to his side.

[readychilledwine]

Housewife

✨️Kink education with Elizabeth✨

The Housewife kink, also known as the 1950s Household, is a power play exchange dynamic that typically involves a dom and service sub. It is characterized by one partner being seen as a homemaker and one as the breadwinner. During the 1950s, the homemaker’s “job” was to take care of the household chores, dinner, children (if they had any), and following norms, their husband's needs all while being the picture perfect example of soft femininity and breedability.

Subs partaking in this form of play tend to wear dresses, heels, aprons, ect, while maintaining a clean home and cooking. Many people enjoy this dynamic due to its ability to come into real-life play instead of just hiding in the bedroom.

It is one form kink play that does not necessarily have to be sexual, but that's not why we're all here 👀

NSFW BELOW CUT

💕Peep Valentines Day Bingo Here 💕

Azriel x Reader

Summary - After a long day of interrogations, Azriel is more than pleased to come home to dinner made, a clean home, and a pretty wife.

Warnings - sub and dom dynamics, references to completely power exchange play, oral (mreceiving), slightly demeaning behavior towards females

A/N - I apologize for the delay. My little is going through a growth spurt and a little fussy today. Plus, it took FOREVER to find the perfect gif.

Azriel opened the door to his cabin. His shoulders were slumped forward, wings hanging slightly lower than normal.

It had been a rough day. He had been torturing the same prisoner for 3 days now. They refused to yield, they refused to break, and they refused to bend and give the shadowsinger what he wanted.

He knew that all would change the second he saw you, though. You were currently setting dinner on the table. Your hair was softly curled and pinned back, a soft touch of makeup graced your face highlighting his favorite features of yours.

You were wearing a blue sundress the flowed out at the bottom with heels and a blue bow in your hair.

“How's my wife today?” He took pleasure in knowing you would not address him until he addressed you. He took pleasure in knowing that within seconds of hearing his voice, you were trained to get him a glass of whiskey and greet him with a kiss.

“Azriel, you're home early,” you immediately went to the liquor counter, dress swaying as you did. You poured him a finger of whiskey, moving to add ice before walking to him and kissing his cheek. “How was your day?”

Azriel drank as you began removing his outer heavy layer for him, watching like a hawk as you hung his coat and placed his already kicked off boats into the precise place he had told you they go.

“Same prisoner as yesterday,” he watched you blink in confusion. “The bastard will not break and submit. Did you make dinner?”

You nodded enthusiastically, walking him to the table and getting him a plate. “I made your favorite.”

Azriel settled into the couch after dinner, watching you as you cleaned dishes. Every soft movement of your dress had his eyes locked on the hem. Each time you'd reach forward slightly, he was rewarded with a glimpse at the garter belt straps that connected to the satin tops of your thigh highs. It was a constant reminder to him that you were his present, waiting to be unwrapped so delicately as a reward for your continued obedient behavior.

“Angel,” he spoke softly. “Are all your chores done after this?”

It should have bothered you as a wingless Illyrian female to hand over submission so willingly out of hope you'd be rewarded with your mate's cock pounding into you over and over, but instead knowing you were about to be rewarded, that he was about to use you like a pretty cock sleeve, that had your thighs pressing together. “They are. Unless you wanted me to do something else.” A cool shadow began swirling your leg. Its touch was like soft kisses and left shivers in its wake.

Azriel leaned back, watching his shadow go on its mission, watching as you took a gasp, spine going straight before moaning his name. “Let me know when you finish.” He placed an arm on the back of the couch, scenting your arousal filling the air as you whimpered and went back to the last few dishes.

It wasn't fair. Trying to focus on scrubbing and rinsing as a shadow sat vibrating against your lace covered clit was nearly impossible. 5 dishes, you reminded yourself. He lets you leave them overnight to dry. Just 5 more. You focused on the dishes, doing the best you could to ignore the growing wetness between your thighs.

You almost jumped as rough hands ran up your arms. “My pretty little wife. My mate,” one of his hands wrapped and held your throat. His other hand ran down your chest, through the valley of your breasts, before settling on your hip. He started placing soft kisses along your neck, your ear. “How lucky am I to have such an obedient wife taking care of my home?” He squeezed your throat softly before his other hand began lifting Your dress. The hand on your throat moved to join the other one as he moved you away From the sink and to a different section of countertop, bending you over it and place one hand at the back of your neck to hold you Down. He groaned as his shadows held up that pretty dress, exposing those sapphire lace panties

"The dishes," you panted.

"Can wait. I can't. I've been hard since I walked in to you setting the table wearing my color, wearing a little bow tying your hair back like some innocent little thing." Your panties were moved to the side. Two fingers began to run the length of your core as Azriel groaned behind you. "So fucking wet I've hardly done anything."

You heard a muffled moan and could only assume he had put his fingers into his mouth. "So sweet, baby." You could hear him undoing his pants, feel as the head of his cock ran your folds. You could feel down the bond that it would be a long night.

You gasped loudly, gripping the counter with a mix between a moan and scream as he pushed into the hilt. Azriel wasted no time, threading one hand into your hair and pulling while the other held your hip. Azriel growled as you wiggled slightly, causing you to still. "Such a good little wife."

He wasted no time, setting a pace that had your toes curling in those heels that made your ass look phenomenal. Shadows quickly moved to hold the dress up, allowing the hand on your hip to move to your still covered clit.

There was something freeing about being below him, serving him, being used by him. It was enough for that coil to tighten faster as your mind went blank, focusing on nothing but the feeling of his heavy hard cock hitting every nerve inside of you, angling until he found the spot that had you scream his name.

Despite the roughness he fucked you with, the power you were freely handing to him, Azriel still sent wave after wave of his love, his admiration, and his pride down the bond. With each wave, that coil got tighter and tighter, your moans louder and more desperate as your body felt like it was on fire. "Be a good wife and cum for me," his fingers pressed down on that bundle of nerves, hips pistoning into you even faster as you screamed his name, walls milking his cock.

Azriel pulled out instead of following you over the ledge, ripping that dress off of you and leaving you in the lingerie and heels. He lifted you into his arms while you still came down from the high, your vision almost blurred.

You felt the soft bed under you, smelling the fresh sheets you had just changed hours ago. Azriel smelled them too as he positioned you with your head hanging off the bed. "You spoil me," his hands ran to your breasts, squeezing and tweaking your nipples.

His cock sat heavy and leaking near your face, soaked in your release, "Open." You smiled, opening your mouth wide, allowing him to push in just as two fingers slid into your heat.

He was gentle this time, for now at least, fucking your throat. You ran your tongue along his length, hollowing your cheeks and swallowing around him. You were at his mercy, wiggling and moaning around him as the wet noises of his cock in your mouth and his fingers thrusting in and out of you echoed with his moans and occasional whimper.

His pace picked up as his fingers did, making him chuckle in satisfaction as you gagged around him. "You deserve a reward for how hard you worked today, don't you, y/n?" He groaned as you moaned around him, vibrating his cock as he held it deep in your throat. "Not a single thing out of place, every chore finished, and I came home to you looking like a delicious treat? What a good little wife." You felt your vision getting slightly blurry until he pulled out again, your pleasure almost maddening as he avoided the spongy spot inside of you and brushed your swollen clit with ghost like touches. "That's what you are isn't it? No thoughts in that pretty mind of yours but pleasing me and taking my cock like an obedient whore?"

You would have nodded, begging him to give you what you needed as you agreed to every word, but his cock was still occupying and twitching in your mouth. You knew from the way his fingers had become messier in their rhythm, from the way his words were getting breathy, from how each moment of your throat burning as he held himself deep inside grew longer and longer that he was close.

You had been dreaming of his all day. Dreaming for your reward for dusting, for cooking, for cleaning. The reward you'd get when he came home to a spotless house, to his laundry done, to you wearing your pretty outfit for him.

His fingers curled into the spot you needed, pressing and tapping there as shadows curled and flicked your nipples and his thumb ran gentle circles on your clit. You finished within seconds with no warning, crying around his cock, hands fisting the sheets.

Azriel fell over the edge soon after, spilling with his cock shoved all the way into your mouth forcing you to swallow what you could, head thrown back as his wings flared and he moaned your name without shame.

He pulled out, fisting the exposed length and allowing the last of his cum to land on your face, admiring the mess of drool, makeup, and his seed you had become. His fingers left your cunt, going to his own mouth as he licked them clean with a smile. He watched as your hand waved and the bathtub began to fill.

"I'm not done with you yet," he panted, hands trailing your body.

You smiled, your own hands running up and down his thighs. "I counted in that, but let me take care of your other needs first."

Azriel looked up, a wide smile on his face as he sent a silent prayer to whoever blessed you with acts of service as your love language. "I would really like that."

General tag list:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu

Valentines Day Taglist:

@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish

@novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer

As always- please let me know if you would like to be added to a taglist 💜

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

My tears ricochet

Next chapter

summary: There are thunder clouds in the horizon that threaten Eris’s chance of being a high lord. Rhys strikes a deal. The only thing left to find out now is who gets out of this deal alive?

warning: death, blood, enemies to lovers, fighting, forced arrangements, talk of marriage of convenience.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Things were changing in Prythian. With the length of fea lives, high lords didn’t change often. But when the shift did happen, it was as if someone were to open a beast's belly, and suddenly everyone was on the fence; the territory was for grabs, and others could gain something from the new weaker high lord until the power fully settled in him.

“I’ll need you with me tonight," Rhys said, slowly swirling his drink in the glass. The tension could be felt in all the courts, but Rhys had been deep in his thoughts ever since the news about the new high lord had circled. “You’re in a mood to kill the new high lord of autumn already?", you mussed, making Cassian let out a snort. You had lost the number of meetings that had been held in the past week alone. And while you didn’t like Eris, a small part of you couldn’t help but feel sympathy for him. On one hand, this, no doubt, had to be a relief. To know that the world was no longer tarnished by Beron. But the responsibility was still hard to carry all alone.

“A diplomatic meeting," Rhys clarified, making you roll your eyes, “That can be changed real quick with a dagger." But you could see the plea in his eyes. And something else. An emotion you couldn’t quite grasp. It had been there for a couple of days now. It was hazy at first, while Rhys was still contemplating it all in his head. Now, however, it was set and done, leaving a trail of unease in your gut when you caught a glimpse of it.

“I need you." You were not sure what exactly those words implied. Knowing how fond you and Eris were of one another, it was as if Rhys had planned a civil war to break out in the autumn. Unless he needed Eris to decline whatever offer Rhys was going to propose, and you were just the thing for that, “Fine, I’ll be there," you huffed, bringing the glass to your lips. Even if you knew that not even booze could make a meeting like that bearable, "I can't wait to see Eris’s face when you walk in." Azriel’s low voice filled the room, followed by Cassian’s chuckle. “You enjoy his misery way too much, Az," you said, shaking your head with a smile. “What can I say? I’m a simple man," the spymaster smiled before downing his drink.

Eris had been dreaming of this day since the moment he realized that this brutality would only end when Beron was six feet, make it ten so the bastard wouldn’t have a chance of crowning out, below. One thing he didn’t take into consideration was that the new power would rip at him from within. Leaving him quite shaky and restless. Not to mention that he didn’t have anyone to guard his back. His younger brothers were all corrupted by his father to be of any help at all.

“Apologies for your loss once again," Beron’s right-hand man clapped Eris’s shoulder. "The council will miss Beron’s presence," the other added sympathetically. No doubt, Eris thought. All the males in this room had been fed like pigs out of the same hod for decades. And Beron fed them well with promises that were never truly delivered. “But we do not doubt you, Eris," and here was the silent warning that they expected the same treatment from the oldest Vanserra. No doubt already able to sniff out Eris’s plans on wiping the council out. “Yet we are here to guide you if..." “If that’s all, I would like to end the meeting," Eris said, raising his hand. The yapping of these old men had drilled the last bit of sanity out of him today. With a flow of “Of course, of course," and “our apologies for holding you up," Eris watched them pick up their scrolls as they hurried out of the room.

The moment the door closed, Eris let out a deep sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. Exhausted. He was just so exhausted. If only he could sleep at night. To just… “You looked like a fox kicked by a hunter," Eris opened his eyes to the sound of a familiar voice. "Lucien, my patience is running low tonight." It came out harsher than Eris intended. He was glad that Lucien had agreed to listen in on the meetings in general. He didn’t have to. But Eris had no one to turn to. “This wasn’t that bad of a meeting," the youngest Vanserra said, pulling out a chair for himself. The meeting had barely touched on serious topics. Council had tried to swing the chatter to that, but Eris had fully focused on the food supplies and growing stock.

"Would be better if you came back to stand by my side fully," Eris pressed once more. While a part of him understood Lucien's choice, another was bitter that every offer had been declined. “You know I have duties elsewhere," Lucien replied like he had ever since Beron died. “This is home," Eris pointed out, fingers drumming against the table. Their eyes met, and Eris knew Lucien’s next words before they had even touched his lips. “This was never my home," he stated with a shake of his head.

Eris knew that, it clawed at him that Lucien had been out there, going from court to court. At the time, it felt like the best choice. To take him away from all of this. To make sure that no hits, whether physical or emotional, were ever directed at him.

“How’s mother?", Lucien cut the silence upon the two brothers. "She would have happily danced on his grave if she had a chance," Eris mussed. Both brothers couldn’t help but smile. It was crazy to think that she was finally free. No more playing pretend. Their mother was finally a free woman who could do anything she wanted. And even if it hurt to admit it, Eris knew that she too wouldn’t stay back home with him. Her heart had been elsewhere for decades already.

“Why are you still here, Lucien?" Even if Eris loved having Lucien back, he knew too well that he didn’t just linger to be there. There had to be a reason. “Can’t I come over to spend quality time?" Lucien smirked right as Eris cut him off mid-sentence, “Cut the bullshit." And here they were, back at square one. With all the real emotion swept beneath the masks they have been wearing, “Rhys wants to meet with you tonight." Eris let out a deep sigh at Lucien's words. He just didn’t have it in him to go through one more toying session today. “He has valid suggestions," Lucien reassured his older brother. “He can shove them right up his ass," Eris pushed back his chair, turning to pour himself another drink. “Eris, hear him out. You need allies now; you need recognition," there was truth in Lucien’s words. Even if the times were changing, some old rules still applied, even if Eris didn’t plan to rule by the textbook his father had created. But there were still things he couldn’t escape. “I’ve already made a name for myself, Lucien; they know what to expect," Eris stated bitterly. Not daring to look back. Not daring to meet his brother’s eyes.

Swallowed by the never-ending piles of work, Eris had lost track of time. Only the footsteps that sounded down the hall made him halt as he lifted his head. Listening. “Of fucking hell," Eris muttered. All the fibers in his body twisted. Because he knew. Knew without seeing. Knew it deep within his gut. "Joy and cheer!", your voice echoed as you opened the door to Eris’s study. The devilish grin shone across your face. "Hello, kitten," you mussed up at him. Cassian was grinning, barely holding back a laugh. Even Azriel ran a hand over his mouth to hide his smile. Eris slowly gazed up at Rhys, “I would have offered you to sit, but since you brought that malice with you..." his eyes darted back at you. Looking you up and down in that profound, unimpressed expression of his. Even if deep blue had always been your color. No one wore it better than you did in Eris’s eyes.

“Oh, because you’re such a cuddly bun," you purred, crossing your arms over your chest. "Y/n," Rhys stated firmly, glaring your way. You let out a huff, “Not my problem; he has his nickers in a twist." You pointed at Eris, who pinched the bridge of his nose, “Lord forbid... I have no time for this. You know where to find the exit." Motioning with his hand, the oldest Vanserra gestured to the door. Already turning away to leave.

"Eris, at least let me make a proposition," Rhys insisted, stepping forward before glancing back at you, “And you sit." The order was degrading, at least. Like a youngster being scolded. "I'm not your lap dog," you grumbled, eyebrows knitted. “You sure look like one," Eris muttered under his breath, making you gasp.

You were about to give him a piece of your mind when Rhys cut in, “There’s unease among the high lords." Eris blinked a couple of times. The low lights were doing no favors for his already paler skin. "Rhys, you either tell me something I don’t know or you leave," the high lord sighed with tiredness. He had heard it all before. And one more conversation about this might end up being the reason why Eris was going to drop dead himself. Rhys stood silent for a moment before uttering, “They want to make a vote; they deem you not fit to rule until they know how Beron died."

And for the first time that night, Eris’s eyes were truly forced on Rhys. A new layer of tension lined his shoulders. “What?" he muttered beneath his breath. “They are planning to hold a meeting without you." Now those words cut Eris deep. That same wound Beron cut open over and over again. You’ll never be good enough. Do you think you could ever sit among them? With me gone, you will be nothing in their eyes. “That’s nonsense; I have a right to be informed about this." Eris gripped the edge of the table. A flame of anger rekindled deep within.

“You need alliances and show them that you have it under control," Rhys pointed out, no doubt having gone through all of that himself. In some ways, “I do have it under control," Eris snarled bitterly. “Well, reports say otherwise," Rhys noted, pointing at the reports in his hand. Eris’s eyes skim over the text with urgency. “Look… I’m offering you help”. Rhys's voice died down.

That same sense of chill ran down your back. It was as if something from deep within was warning you that this was way more serious than you had thought. Eris shook his head as he read. Almost all of the high lords were in on it. There were no direct threats there, but the implications were obvious.

“Marry Y/N," and the room died down for a moment. The silence was so intense that the ringing in your ears nearly made you hold onto your head. “What?”, You both breathed in unison before your eyes fell upon one another. One heartbeat. Two. “Hell no", “Over my dead body," both of your declines fell one after the other.

"Eris, you know how the council runs and how they are about the business. You need to make public appearances. You need someone by your side," and Rhys had a point. If most courts had moved on from council power, Beron had held onto them for dear life. They fed his power. Stopped the fires of rebellion for him. And now their way was Eris’s people's way. “I sure as hell don’t need that leech," Eris said in frustration. “Hey, word choice," Azriel pointed a finger his way, making the frown on Eris’s face even deeper. “I’m not marrying that monster," you hissed.

“I would once again suggest you look at yourself," Eris grumbled back, running his hand over his face. But you were done with him. He could go to hell the way he was standing now. It’s your brother who met your angered face. “Why was I not informed about this? What right do you have to even suggest this?" You stepped closer to him, your hands reaching for his shirt. “It’s a marriage of convenience," Rhys said again, trying to kill the frustration his suggestion had caused, “You play by the rules; secure the spot for Eris among that table, and then we’ll find a way to split you apart. My word will be worth more if you’re courting my sister."

No, this couldn’t be happening. Gone were the times when women were traded like pigs. This was a joke. A nightmare. You pinched your hand once, twice. Nothing. It didn’t all fade away. “No, absolutely, no," you breathed, your hand falling on your chest. This was not the life you had dreamed of. Not how it was supposed to go.

“What’s the catch here, Rhys?" Eris breathed. Was he even considering this? Surely he wasn’t. “He left Mor by the fucking border! Do you want me in ribbons by your door?", you pulled at Rhys’s black shirt, practically hissing through your clenched teeth. “I wouldn’t dirty my hands with you that much," Eris’s voice killed your huffs as you turned back at him.

"Asshole," you spat his way. “Whiny little girl," Eris huffed back, crossing his arms over his chest. “I fucking hate you," you shrieked in frustration, pulling at the roots of your hair as the situation slowly sank in. “Oh, you hate me? Do you want to know how I feel?" Eris laughed bitterly, his eyes not leaving you, “If you were my wife, I would put poison in your morning tea." His cold words sliced through you. You let out a bitter chuckle. Taking a breath to compose yourself. A shaky hand running down the skirt of your dress to smooth the material. “Ah, well, if you were my husband, I would happily drink it." Your words lingered in the air,and you could see it even if it was just a flash. A blink. That second of shock that flashed through Eris’s eyes.

With a quick step forward, you pushed at his chest, "Never do you hear me?" You hissed one more time, “Will never happen." His hand caught your wrist with a swift motion as he pulled you closer to him. Your chest firmly pressed against his as he muttered right against your face. “You’re screaming at me as if it’s my idea," Eris huffed, dropping your hand.

You blinked, turning back to your older brother. Who swore to protect you. To always look out for you. “You’re a shit brother, Rhys," you stated. Finding it so utterly hard to even look at him now. All this time. He could have warned you. Said something. Asked. But no. “I’m trying to stop another war from happening," he stated as if this were a simple transaction, not a life-altering decision. “By sacrificing me?" You hit your chest in frustration. Your youthful years would spent slaving in another country, and for what?

“Don’t be so dramatic," Eris huffed, making you let out a frustrated whimper, "Oh, my apologies for not seeing any gain in this for me." Rhys took a deep breath. “The court wants a married man with a powerful woman by his side." Here it was his lord's voice. Not your brother. He stepped closer to you, trying to reach for your hands, but you backed away instantly. “This is more about you than anyone else," he tried to reason. So you were to be a play toy. A figurine in someone else’s game. “Just unbelievable," you said, shaking your head and stepping back. Your leg hit the cabinet, sending a couple of bottles tumbling down. Rhys called your name once more, but you didn’t. Couldn't be here any longer as you bolted towards the door.

"Y/n," Rhys called out in warning, moving towards the exit as well. “Don’t you dare follow her; you’ve done enough damage for the night," Eris’s cold voice made the Lord of the Night halt. And for the first time that night, the uncaring mask on Rhys’s face slipped: “Don’t lecture me when I’m trying to help," venomous frustration seeping through, “I’m landing you my biggest asset. She’s my only blood family." Eris couldn’t help the smile that crept over his face, “If you loved her so much, you wouldn’t toy with her like that”. Rhys’s jaw twitched.

"Careful," Azriel reasoned for the second time that night. Eris had forgotten that the two of them were even there. “Stop barking from the back rows," he hissed at the two batboys. Cassian quickly placed his hand on Azriel’s chest, stopping him in his tracks. Eris shook his head, “You miscalculated, Rhys; admit it." Turning back to reach for the bottle of brandy, Eris took a swig straight out of the bottle. “You’d gain power out of this. But your precious demon of a sister will never forgive you for this." That struck a nerve deep within Rhys. And suddenly, the suggestion itself felt ingenious. So there was a catch after all, huh? “A day," Rhys said firmly, “I’m giving you a day to think this through; then my offer is off the table." Like that. He was dismissed as if he too wasn’t a high lord now. As if Eris wasn’t in an equal position to demand. Eris leaned forward,“You were never the one offering, Rhys; it was never your call to make."

[steddieas-shegoes]

eddie's 1st xmas

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'ornament'

all of my holiday drabbles will be from the bear hugs universe. many of them could probably be read standalone, but will make the most sense and be enjoyed best if you read that first!

rated t | 940 words | cw: mention of character death in the past | tags: established relationship, sentimental, christmas fluff

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

The ornament is hung in the back of the tree when Steve first notices it. He’s sweeping the pine needles up when he sees it glittering between the lights, pushed back so it’s almost hidden from view.

He recognizes it immediately, even though it’s been 12 years or so since he’s seen it.

He’s careful when he touches it, knows that it’s already broken at least once and has been glued back together with gorilla glue and patience by Wayne. He sees one of the cracks as he tilts it closer to one of the lights on the tree, smiling sadly when he remembers exactly how devastated Eddie had been when it fell and shattered into pieces. Luckily, only a couple of the pieces couldn’t quite fit back together, and they were small.

Eddie’s mom’s handiwork deserves a better place on the tree than facing the wall.

Steve sets the broom down and gently lifts the ornament off the branch. The glitter on the top of the ball is nearly gone, and what’s left is dull. Steve thinks he has this exact color in his craft bin, but he wouldn’t dare touch it without asking Eddie.

Unless…

Eddie won’t be home for hours. Rory’s at practice. He already caught up on his lesson plans for the week.

All he has to do is touch up the glitter. It’ll make it look brand new, might even distract from the cracks.

He walks carefully to the spare room that’s mostly used for storage and sets the ornament on the table. He finds the glitter he needs, the clear liquid craft glue he saves for his own projects, and gets to work.

It’s a simple task, but he can’t risk the ornament falling or even cracking further.

When he’s done, and he manages to set it up to dry properly, he smiles.

Eddie’s 1st Xmas is painted in red around the middle, glitter covering the top.

Wayne explained to Steve why this one ornament meant so much while he was fixing it years ago. Eddie had been so upset, he locked himself in his room and wouldn’t even let Steve in.

“She made it while she was still pregnant with him. Before things got hard for her. It’s the only thing he really has as a reminder that she loved him.”

Steve knows he probably kept it hidden in the back so there was no chance Rory would accidentally break it while playing knee hockey, but they can set new rules for Christmas. Eddie deserves to have something special on display just like they do.

Steve finishes up with his chores and starts to head back into the spare room when the front door opens.

He walks to the living room and suddenly feels nervous.

Eddie is removing his jacket and shoes at the door, hasn’t even noticed Steve yet. He may not even realize Steve’s home since he insists on Steve being the one to park in the garage.

“Hey baby,” Steve greets him.

Eddie turns and gives him a small smile. “Hey, sweetheart.”

“Everything okay?” Steve asks. Something seems off.

“Yeah. Just a long day.”

Steve nods and plants a soft kiss on his lips. Eddie kisses back, but it’s not his usual enthusiastic response.

“Can I show you something?” He asks, hoping it will cheer him up to see his ornament with a makeover.

“Sure, Stevie.”

Steve leads him into the spare room and tells him to close his eyes and hold out his hands. He places the ornament in his palms as carefully as possible, leaving his hands there to catch it if Eddie accidentally drops it.

“Open your eyes.”

Eddie is silent. It’s alarming. The strange mood, the quiet, it’s enough to put Steve on edge. He tries to stay positive though.

“I saw it on the tree earlier and thought it could use a little fresh glitter. I hope it’s okay,” Steve is ready to start apologizing for touching it when Eddie bursts into tears. “Shit.”

Steve takes the ornament from him, or tries to, but Eddie holds it to his chest instead.

“Today’s the anniversary of her death,” he sobs.

Steve pulls him close, wraps his arms around him and squeezes as tight as he can while keeping space between them so he doesn’t crush the ornament. He didn’t even realize the date, and he’s not sure he would’ve remembered anyways. Eddie doesn’t talk about her much.

“I didn’t realize,” Steve whispers against his hair, kissing the top of his head. “I’m sorry.”

“No, this is-” Eddie takes a shaky breath. “This is amazing. Thank you for doing this. I’ve been so scared to touch it up.”

“Do you wanna hang it up in the front of the tree?” Steve asks.

Eddie shakes his head. “No. I don’t want it to break.”

“We’ll make Rory play in her room if she plays while the tree is up. I think it deserves to be front and center.”

Eddie pulls back and tries to wipe his eyes on his own shoulder. It’s useless as more tears fall.

“Okay. As long as we’re careful.”

“You wanna tell Rory about her?” Steve asks. He knows Eddie doesn’t remember a lot of his mom, that she was sick from the time he was a toddler, and died before he even started school. He knows most things Eddie can tell are things Wayne’s told him. But maybe it will help to talk about her, especially today.

“Yeah, if she wants to hear about her.”

Steve takes the ornament from him and leads him out to the tree. “I’m sure she’ll love it.”

[maidragoste]

Chapter Two: A United Front

The Hunger Games AU

Katniss!Jacaerys x Peeta!Reader

Chapter One Chapter Three

First of all, thank you very much for all the support that the first chapter had! It made me really happy to see every comment and reblog, it really motivated me to continue writing 🥰🥰

Please let me know again what you thought of this chapter in the comments, as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated too ��💖

My inbox is open so I'm always willing to read your headcanons, opinions and answer your questions.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

Jacaerys was irritated. Firstly, because it is evident that you had already begun to play in front of the cameras since when you two arrived at the train station you did not bother to hide your tears, you probably thought that perhaps this way you could get a sponsor or else your strategy was to show yourself weak and like an easy prey to later fight in the arena. That's what Sabitha Vypren, from District 7, had done in her games.

The second reason for his irritation was his uncle. Larys hadn't said a word to him since before the Repair or even now that they were on the train heading to the Capitol. This was supposed to be the time for them to prepare strategies together, for Larys to give them advice on surviving the arena, but his uncle seemed more focused on enjoying the pork chops and mashed potatoes. Jacaerys was also eating, he was ready to eat everything he could to gain the most muscle mass before the games started, but now and then he would stop and stare at Larys hoping that at some point his uncle would decide to speak.

“So, what do we have to do for Jacaerys to win?” you asked, breaking the silence and making him choke.

You were the first to react, you quickly got up and started hitting him on the back until he finally spit out the piece of meat. Effie looked at him with disgust.

"Are you okay?" you asked, looking at him with concern and now caressing his back. Jacaerys noticed how his uncle looked at the two of them with interest. He had no idea why, neither of you two had done anything extraordinary, he made a fool of himself by choking and you ran to save him…Well, I had to admit that your action was striking, someone else would have let him die by drowning to have one less competitor in the arena, not only that but you just said that you wanted to help him win. It didn't make sense… Unless it was another strategy to gain his trust only to then stab him in the back in the arena.

"I'm fine," Jacaerys responded, putting his hand on your arm to stop your caresses. You blushed and moved away from him as if you had been burned by his touch. “What do you mean by that you said earlier?” he asked you once you sat back down.

"You have a chance to win, Jacaerys," you declared as if it were obvious. Evidently, he couldn't hide his confusion because you continued talking "You know how to hunt and you have good aim. Every time my father buys you squirrels he says that the arrow always hits the eye, you never ruin the body" the boy felt the heat rise to his face at your words and he was sure he was blushing because suddenly you seemed to be stopping yourself from smiling. "So if either of us has a chance of winning it's you. I'll probably be one of the first to die but I think I can be of help in the interview" you said the last thing looking at Larys.

Jacaerys felt his appetite disappear. It didn't sit well with him to hear you talk as if you were already resigned to dying. "She's got a good right hook," he said, looking at his uncle. He couldn't let Larys give up on you quickly, if you lost his interest then he surely wouldn't bother trying to help you win. "Lucerys told me. She hit a boy who was bothering him and gave that idiot a black eye."

"Jacaerys, I won't be able to win just by hitting people. Besides, there are surely tributes even bigger than that boy, they will attack me before I can even land a hit on him."

For a moment he had the image of an unknown tribute mercilessly attacking you with a sword before you had the chance to defend yourself. His stomach fluttered at the image of your broken body.

"You, on the other hand, can attack from afar with your bow. If you hide well you can have an advantage" you continued and went back to eating without realizing that your companion was looking at you with a frown.

Your attitude was irritating him. You should have been trying to impress Larys by saying what other things you can do but instead, you keep talking about him. It did not make sense. It had to be a strategy or maybe you were thinking it was a lost cause to try to win the games by having him as a district partner and his uncle as his mentor. You probably believed that Larys would choose to put all the chips on him just because he was his nephew. That made him furious.

"She can lift weights. I saw her lifting sacks of flour"

You suddenly dropped the cutlery sharply on the table. "Enough, Jacaerys," the annoyance was evident on your face and in your voice. "Don't try to make me feel good just out of pity, please. I know I'm going to lose. Everyone knows that." "You made a gesture with your hand to let you continue talking when you saw him open his mouth." Do you know what my mother told me when she came to say goodbye to me? There may finally be another winner in 12. She wasn't talking about me" you said looking into his eyes.

Everyone knew that your mother was a witch but Jacaerys never imagined that she would be one with her own daughter. It was cruel to tell you that when perhaps it could be her last talk. She should have faith in you. Or at least give you the benefit of the doubt. He wanted to comfort you but he had no idea what to say. Besides, he didn't think his uncle would be happy if he saw him being nice to you. He would tell her that he was weak and that he didn't come here to make friends.

So Jace settled for looking into your eyes, hoping that you could somehow understand that he didn't want you to give up.

"Oh, darling, that's horrible," Effie said, breaking the tension between the two of you, placing a hand on her heart, she seemed genuinely moved. "I think you should try hard to win and prove your mother wrong."

You didn't say anything, you just gave a sad smile to the district escort. A moment ago Jacaerys felt bad for you but now he can't help but think that maybe you only told your last conversation with your mother to gain Effie's sympathy and get her to talk about you to her friends in the Capitol. He hated analyzing everything you did but he couldn't let his guard down with you if he wanted to go home to his brothers. He was sure that if Lucerys was with him and could see what was going on in her mind he would tell him that he was being paranoid. But maybe it wasn't wrong for him to doubt you, Jace thought when he noticed that Uncle Larys seemed to be evaluating you with his gaze.

“Let's start to see who his competitors are,” Larys finally spoke, ending the dinner.

Jacaerys was relieved to see that your stylist had put you in an outfit just like his, at least if he ended up making a fool of himself at the parade he wouldn't be the only one. You're wearing the same shiny leather boots and the same full-length black leotard with the cloak that flutters in the wind. The only difference between the two of you was that your suit seemed closer to your body, highlighting your curves.

As you are taken to the lower level of the Renewal Center, Portia, your stylist, along with her team can't stop talking excitedly about what a sensation you two will be. Cinna, Jacaerys' stylist who came up with the idea of setting their outfits on fire, seems tired of the congratulations. Jace couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he, too, was nervous that it wouldn't work and would end with them dead. You didn't look nervous, which shouldn't surprise him considering you were probably used to fire since he worked at the bakery.

Once they arrive, they basically find a giant stable. The opening ceremony is about to begin so the stylists are having their tributes ride into carriages pulled by a group of horses. Cinna and Portia lead you and Jacaerys to their carriage, both of them carefully arranging the posture of the two of your bodies and your cloaks before stepping aside to talk something between themselves.

“What do you think of the fire?” Jacaerys asked you in a whisper. He tells himself that he's just talking to you to distract himself from his nerves.

“At least we're not naked,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders. Jacaerys grimaces as he remembers those poor tributes who had to parade naked covered in black dust. It had happened years before his uncle became a victor, the only reason why everyone knew about that incident was because whenever the games approached on television they did a recap of the best kills, the best dressed as well as the worst deaths and the worst dresses. In the latter, those poor tributes always appeared.

“Uncle Larys definitely wouldn't have let that happen. He probably would have hit them with his cane as soon as they told him that idea,” Jace said with a small smile as he imagined his uncle hitting the stylists and scolding them. You must have imagined the same thing too because you started laughing. Your laughter was contagious so he soon joined you, feeling his nerves disappear for a moment as well as the heaviness in his shoulders. Cinna and Portia will probably be upset that you two lost your posture but neither you nor Jacaerys seemed worried about it.

"If something goes wrong I promise to take out your cloak while you take out mine," you said trying to get serious again but from the corner of your lips, it was evident that you wanted to smile.

"Deal," he agreed with a small smile.

Jace's calm demeanor disappeared the moment he saw his uncle. He tensed as he watched him walk towards the carriage, ready to feel his eyes judging him and scolding him for acting like a child. His uncle was right to be angry, now the other tributes would see them as weak and stupid.

"I want you to present yourself as a united front," Larys said, surprising his nephew.

"What?"

"If you want to win then you have to do everything I say" the mentor reminded them "So you will go out, hold hands, and greet the audience" In his tone of voice there was no room for discussion but Jacaerys had many questions. He couldn't do any of them because when started playing the opening music Larys headed for the exit.

"Come on, don't look so upset. It's not like I have scabies," you nudged him. If he hadn't been focused on seeing the tributes from District 1 in his glowing robes then he would have noticed how the sparkle in your eyes seemed to have dimmed.

It's not many minutes before you and Jacaerys are near the doors. As the District 11 tributes leave, Cinna appears with a torch. You and Jace don't have time to back away when the stylist turns on both of your cloaks. The three of them sigh in relief when they see that it worked.

“Remember head up and smile. Oh, don't forget the most important thing, hold hands. They're going to love you!" Cinna quickly tells them before getting out of the carriage.

Jacaerys hesitates before taking your left hand. Unlike him, you don't hesitate to intertwine your fingers with his. You give him one last smile before his carriage enters the city. The crowd seems alarmed at first when they see the fire but then they soon begin shouting both their names. Jace can't help but feel overwhelmed by the feeling of everyone's eyes on him so he focuses on staring at the screen. For a moment he is breathless, the two of you look wonderful, especially you look brilliant as you wave and blow kisses to the crowd. In the low light of twilight, the fire illuminates both of your faces and your cloaks seem to leave a trail of flames behind. Cinna got what he wanted and gave you both a chance, no one would forget about you two, you really made a sensation.

You squeeze Jacaerys's hand and remind him under your breath to “Smile.”

Then he tries his best to give his best smile and starts greeting you. Someone among all these people must have wanted to sponsor him. This was an excellent opportunity to win over the audience and he had to take advantage of it. He remembers the words of his uncle Larys, so he raises their joined hands, making the screams increase even more. When they enter the City Circle they lower their hands but neither you nor Jace try to let go. During President Snow's speech, Jacaerys is distracted by feeling you caress his skin with your thumb, he tries not to think about it too much, he tells himself that you must be nervous and you do it unconsciously. Luckily it doesn't take long for the national anthem to be heard and the carriages travel around the circle for the last time. Jacaerys notices that the screens seem to show you two more than the other tributes.

He finishes confirming that it was not his imagination once you arrive at the Training Center and get off your carriages. As Cinna and Portia remove their cloaks, you and Jacaerys notice the angry glances of the other tributes, especially Royce Baratheon, the burly boy from District 2 who volunteered, and his district partner Agatha Durrandon.

Jace notices that the two of you are still holding hands so he lets you go.

"The flames suit you well and you have a beautiful smile" you declared with a smile making him blush.

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[rowretro]

𝐁𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇

✧warnings: suggestive, blood, mafia Hoon, yandere

❁synopsis: Sunghoon is one of the most infamous yet famous mafia leaders known, he was one who had his morals, he wouldn't hurt a woman unless necessary. The man had previously been married twice, both times his so called wife cheated on him, hence he divorced them, making sure they left his house with no money at hand. now he's married to y/n, he's cautious, cold, rude, but he secretly loves her, yet he has his doubts, stalking her and seeing if she's a cheater...

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"Sunghoon! morning Hoon... I-I made you breakfast~" Y/n said with a wide smile on her face. Sunghoon just coldly stared at her, as he glanced at the maids, their heads hung low "I-I wanted to cook for you, it's typical for wives to do so... so uhm.... Im sorry it won't happen again..." she apologized staring down. He silently sat down and ate, not saying a single word.

The girl smiled to herself seeing that he was eating. The man left for work, not even looking in her direction. It's ridiculous one'd say. Sunghoon saw her first, when he was speeding past her on his bike, his helmet on so no one recognized him. Since then, he'd purposely speed by her, smirking at her flustered expression, until he eventually kidnapped her to keep him all to himself. Sure she was scared, but the moment he legally married her, she felt maybe its a new beggining.

He's never touched her nor harmed her since, he barely spoke to her. Y/n wore a white dress that reached just the middle of her thighs, her manga-like lashes done already by a lash tech Sunghoon had paid for, she applied some light makeup as she wore matching high heels, she left the building looking stunning as ever.

Sunghoon wasn't new to y/n getting all dolled up to even just get the groceries, or buy herself some ice cream from the corner store. However, he remained cautious of her actions, following her in his car, not too far behind. Y/n however, wasn't all too clueless. She took note of the same exact black car following her everywhere she went, but she never knew it was Sunghoon in that car.

Hence Sunghoon was rather confused when he saw his darling wife, in front of the window, head down as she sneakily peaked out. He wasn't too interested in what she was doing, more in what she was wearing. He couldn't take his eyes off her body, that short silky white night gown hugged her in all the right places, it only barely covered her. "Hoon you're back?" she whisper asked as Sunghoon nodded.

The male frowned as Y/n pulled him down with her, his arm snaking around her waist as he sat on the floor with her, pulling the girl onto his lap, nis face nuzzling into her neck as he left a few open mouth kisses down her neck to her collarbone "What are you doing babe?" he asked, as he slipped off a strap of her nightgown. "Look- see that black car? it's been stalking me for a week and now its here.... I think its an enemy hoon-" She said.

Sunghoon frowned looking up, only to see her pointing at his old car that he had used to stalk her "Oh my sweet sweet y/n... that's my car.... I was following you around to make sure you were always safe, you've nothing to worry about not with me by your side" he said with a smile. A smile that melted y/n, a smile she's never seen before on him "You should smile more often.... I like it lots!" she said as Sunghoon kissed her jaw. "For you... I will" he said as he pulled her closer to his body.

The wife whom he will always trust, the wife who loves him dearly.

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[rosenyras]

The Night of Feud and Desire

Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon ( Strong ) Female Reader

Summary: After Aemond stirs up the Dragon’s Dinner with his taunts, you go and search for him to give him a piece of your mind. However, the night ends very differently than you had planned.

Warnings: Nsfw, typical Targaryen inc*st, language, slight violence, slight choking, Aemond is rough, overstimulation

Notes: I used a Valyrian translator so apologies if it’s not correct!

To be truthful, you were just about done with every one of your family members.

Your brothers - more so Lucerys - despite being your bestest of friends had never irked you more so than tonight. You had wanted so badly for this dinner to go smoothly, especially after the heartfelt speeches both Alicent and your mother spoke towards the other. But the men in the family clearly had other plans.

By the time you had seen Lucerys’ teasing smirk towards Aemond, your foot kicking into his leg to abruptly stop him came too late and the long haired blonde had already embarked on his disguised digs towards Rhaenyra’s children. His part towards you, however, was slightly different - if not a bit basic - even though the obvious reference to Harwin Strong applied to you as well.

“To my beautiful niece, Y/N, I hope the days ahead of you treat you with kindness. And to my nephews …” And the night fell in sure swiftness after the rest of his words were alight in the air.

When the boys began their scuffle, you had originally wanted to intervene more so to get Aegon’s hands off your little brother. Though he was a nuisance, you were quite protective of him. However, a hand on your arm and a warning look belonging to your great uncle, Daemon, refrained you from doing so.

After all of you were dismissed to your separate bed chambers, only an hour had passed before you decided to leave. You did not blame Aemond for the retaliation in his own right, but the constant digs that he threw you and your brothers about being bastards over the last couple of years had rooted itself in your gut and would not ease unless you confronted him about it.

Aemond and your brothers war of words were one thing, to be entirely truthful you did not forget how Aemond was often tormented as a child, but most of that was derived from Aegon, and he did not show that same aggression towards his brother. And to you - you did not understand it.

You and Aemond were so very close as children, being outsiders in your own right - you, a girl amongst brothers and him, a dragonless child that was often picked on. You defended him from Aegon, and your brothers knew when to quiet so not to face your wrath. You also allowed Aemond to be close to your dragon, Rhyxia, so he could at least satisfy his yearning for a dragon.

In turn, he taught you the way of a sword - in secret of course. You were not allowed to join public practice due to the sole reason of your gender, so he would use whatever he learned in lessons to teach you how to defend yourself. The two of you had an undisclosed agreement of sorts, yet you had never been happier than when you were together.

And then, the distance grew when your mother announced your family would inhabit Dragonstone. Once the year passed and you and Aemond were reunited once more by way of Laena Velaryon’s funeral, it was as if no time had passed at all. Until your brothers and cousins engaged in a fight that took his eye.

You were not there during the attack, but you knew when you heard of the word he had chose to spit in the face of Luke and Jace - and by extension, you - your childhood bonding would be forever fractured. And as he stood with his mother and you yours, you never imagined yourself alone with Aemond again. Until now.

As you shut your door, you were instantly met with your assigned guard. He was a lovely young man, but as your eyes lay on him irritation grew within your bones. “Princess Y/N, where are you headed at such a late hour?”

Biting your lip, you deigned him a response that would indeed be unsatisfactory. “Ser Rolland, I just wish to go for a stroll alone, if you’ll excuse me…”

As you made to take a step, he placed a hand in front of you. “Your mother instructed I stay with you, I’m sorry, my lady.”

You loved your mother dearly, but right now you had to refrain from rolling your eyes at her overprotectiveness.

“Well, we best get a move on then, Ser Rolland.”

As you strolled the hallways, the sound of moving armour dawned each of your steps. It soon became clear to you in your want to keep the secrecy on where you were headed would be of no use, and besides, you couldn’t exactly remember where Aemond’s quarters were now, especially if his rooms had changed.

Turning to your guard, you placed a small smile upon your lips. “If you may, Ser, could you please escort me to Prince Aemond’s chambers?”

A single blink was all you received in terms of facial expression as your guard responded. “Of course, my lady.”

As he took charge, you followed Ser Rolland for quite a distance until he stopped outside a door that held a guard posted outside. So Aemond had changed his rooms. Interesting.

As you approached the door, you decided a knock would be more pleasant than simply barging in on your uncle, no matter how much you wished to do so. If he were to be indecent and you stumbled upon him with no clothes … you shook your head to get rid of those thoughts as your face warmed with embarrassment.

A faint call of ‘Enter’ was your only preparation before you opened and stepped inside Aemond’s room.

You noticed him immediately, sitting in front of a fireplace, his back towards you. You could only see the slightest hint of his face, his eyepatch calling to you as if serving you of a memory you would much rather forget.

“How may I help you, niece?”

His voice spoke louder than the crackling embers dancing in front of him. You clasped your hands behind your back, deigning your voice to remain as steady as possible. “How come you know it is me, uncle?”

Aemond’s head turned towards you in the slightest move that he might not have even moved at all. “Only you knock in such a pattern, Y/N. I have not forgotten.”

You couldn’t help but scoff slightly. “Yet it seems you have forgotten what I once was to you. Are you often in the company of remembering the knock patterns of bastards?”

Silence fell, the tension so heavy that you could easily slice it. And just as suddenly, Aemond stood, as if he couldn’t help but remind you that he towered over you even from afar. As he spoke, he crept closer and closer towards you - as if a magnetic pull was driving the two of you closer.

“You know those insults irk your brothers more so than you, it is why I speak them. Did you not say as a child you had no care for who your father was and by extension that word had no effect over you?”

Well. Damn.

To be truthful you did not expect him to remember such a throwaway comment and in such detail, perhaps you should know better than to underestimate Aemond Targaryen.

“You are right, but perhaps my expectations that you would have forgotten about this childhood melodrama were foolish-”

Not a second passed after those words left your mouth that Aemond had grabbed hold of your waist and pushed you up against the closest wall. Your back thudded with the impact, more so shock from not expecting such a move.

It was a low blow, of course it was, but you had not forgotten that Aemond had not even looked at you the night his eye was taken, as if acknowledging your presence was beneath him from that point forward.

Aemond placed a hand next to your head, caging you in with both his body and his glare. “Your brother took my eye and I swear, I will take revenge for that. You should be content that I did not do more tonight.”

Your eyes briefly flicked down to his lips but you forced yourself to keep eye contact with him, not allowing yourself to flinch away. Instead of replying in English, you flicked your tongue to Valyrian. “Ao would ōdrikagon nyke, Aemond?” You would hurt me, Aemond?

Aemond slightly tilted his head downwards before raising his eyes towards yours. “Daor ao, aōha brothers.” Not you, your brothers.

“Naejot ōdrikagon ñuha brothers iksis naejot ōdrikagon nyke.” To hurt my brothers is to hurt me.

Aemond immediately drew himself closer, his breath mingling with yours as he lifted his right hand up to your throat, to do what, you did not know.

All you replied with was a small whisper. “Kostilus, Aemond.” Please, Aemond.

And that seemed to break him.

Closing the short distance between your lips, Aemond crashed his mouth upon yours, not caring about the smashing of teeth - almost like he was desiring the slight pain. His left hand remain caged against your head while his right enclosed around your throat with the slightest pressure as if it was in every inch of his desire to control you.

A slight whimper escaped you, the heat of anger and wanting building up inside you as you tried your best to convey that within the kiss. Once your mouth departed with that slight noise, Aemond didn’t miss a chance before slipping his tongue inside your mouth, your tongues not so much as dancing but instead his just completely dominating yours.

You lifted your hand against his cheek, the rough leather on the straps of his eyes patch rubbing against your skin. And as suddenly as you had placed it there, Aemond used the hand that was against your head to grab both of yours, lifting your arms up and holding them against the wall.

The sudden impact caused you to gasp, moving your hips subconsciously forward, instantly feeling the effect you were having on Aemond with his hardness stretching tight against his pants. In return, Aemond let the slightest of sighs slip between his lips as he moved his mouth towards your neck, tugging on your earlobe and using his tongue to run its way up and down your skin.

“I’ve wanted you since we were young, Y/N. My heart has always belonged to you.” His right hand moved from your neck to cup your cheek. “Ziry va moriot kessa.” It always will.

“Aemond, I-” before you had a chance to finish your sentence, Aemond took ahold of your arms and dragged you towards his bed, placing you on it before making his way on top of you so the two of you were eye to eye.

“I need to hear you say it, Y/N, that you want this.”

“I do,” you breathed, your words no more than whispers. “I want you, Aemond.”

Giving you one final look, Aemond began moving his way down your body until he was face to face with your clothed lower half. Your dress for the night had been one that was easy to slip on and so you had no other expectations as Aemond quickly slipped it off and with it your undergarments. As you lay completely naked, your nipples hardening with the fresh air, Aemond’s eyes rove over every inch of your body, as if you were a meal he wished to take his time with.

As he lifted his hands towards your thighs, separating them to get a good view of your cunt, slight whines escaped your mouth with the need to be touched. Aemond’s fingers circled around your inner thighs, drawing closer and closer with such a teasing touch.

“Seven hells, Aemond, please just-”

Your whine was soon cut off with his lips upon yours and with it, his fingers finally found your cunt. Considering how wet you were, it took you by no surprise as he easily found his way to your clit, circling it with such ease that you nearly exploded right then and there. His mouth managed to silence most of your moans, but they soon were unleashed as Aemond moved to one of your nipples and began licking and softly biting at it.

It was soon after that he slipped a finger inside your entrance, moving with such efficiency that an added second wasn’t far behind. He soon moved to your other nipple, continuing the same movements. It was after he fitted a third finger inside did he speak.

“Jaelan naejot rȳbagon skorkydoso olvie ao jorrāelagon nyke, isse Valyrīha.” I want to hear how much you need me, in Valyrian.

You whined in defiance slightly, but you were too far gone to refuse altogether.

“Ao gīmigon skorkydoso olvie nyke desire ao, Aemond. Emā va moriot known ziry. Just, please-” You know how much I desire you, Aemond. You’ve always known.

Suddenly, Aemond removed his fingers from you, making you annoyed with displeasure. His raised his hands to his lips, tasting you while remaining eye contact. Having enough of being the only presence in the room without clothes, you quickly tore at his leathers to get rid of them. You just wanted to be close to him.

Once he was rid of his clothes, he hooked your leg around his body, lowering you on the bed as he hovered over you, the two of you simply staring at each other was enough to make you content in the moment. As you lifted your hand to his face, you spoke in a hushed tone. “Take me, Aemond. Make me yours.”

And that he did. Aemond placed a singular kiss on your lips as he directed his cock towards your entrance, pushing in as he rested his forehead on yours. His hand that wasn’t fisted in the sheets beside your head made its way to your clit, circling it to relieve some of the pain.

Your breaths were getting louder by the minute, slowly turning into moans as Aemond moved back and forwards, easing into you more with each thrust. As you wrapped your hands around his shoulders, pulling him even more closer to you - if that was possible - you breathed out, “Aemond… please.”

Taking that as a sign to go faster, he began moving with more urgency with every thrust. It was as if he was conveying how much passion he had for you with how direct he was with snapping his hips against yours. As the seconds pass and your moans became louder and louder, both of your release on the edge, you couldn’t help but slip out, “I love you.”

Aemond’s head was buried in the crook of your neck, his hitched breaths and slight sighs abruptly stopped, but his hips sure didn’t. Aemond began thrusting with sudden urgency, the bed creaking against the wall. The hand that was gripping your thigh began pressing harder, something that was surely going to leave bruises the next morning.

Your release crept up without warning, exploding with such urgency that you couldn’t help but yelp. Aemond, however, didn’t let up on his pace. At first you thought he was helping you ride out your orgasm, but then it became clear he had no intention of stopping. “Aemond-“

“Did you mean it?” His hips slowed to a steady pace as he raised his head to look you in the eye, his only sign of pleasure was his hitched breaths. You instantly knew what he meant and you didn’t even try to deny it during the midst of such pleasure.

“Yes, fuck, yes I meant it.” Your nails began raking down his back as you couldn’t help but chase after another orgasm. Aemond didn’t waste a second before fastening his pace, wanting you to reach the height of your pleasure before he came.

“Fuck, Aemond!” You would feel sorry for every pair of ears in close proximity to you, but right now the only focus was your second orgasm rippling through every part of your body. You soon felt Aemond cum inside you, his only hint of outward pleasure was a low grunt escaping his lips.

Still inside you, Aemond once again placed his forehead upon yours, placing his lips on yours with such contrasted gentleness to the pace of his hips moments before. He made sure to look you in the eyes before speaking.

“It is true for me too, I love you with every inch of my being, Y/N.”

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Do Us Both A Favour

Anselm Vogelweide x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Day 21: Smoking

Summary: Anselm doesn't seem to be as intimidating as others perceive him to be, at least when he's talking to you.

A/N: This is mainly fluff, I'm sorry.

Warnings: smoking, flirting, innuendo, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 1248

You were part of a team hired to catalogue a collection of antique books. It wasn’t the first time you’d done this job, but this was definitely the largest and most varied collection you’d seen from a single individual. 

There wasn’t one room where there wasn’t books. Including an interesting set of laminated novels in the bathroom that were presumably to stop the bath water from splashing on the pages.

You were currently working on a bookcase in a secluded room on the third floor, taking quick notes in your notebook that you would transfer onto your computer later. 

The room opening made you jump, despite how gentle it was. 

“Oh, my apologies.” 

You recognised him instantly, despite this being the first time you’d actually seen him in person. The head of your team had warned you about him quite thoroughly - everyone was to be on their best behaviour when Mr Vogelweide was around.

“No, erm, no, please, I’m sorry, this is your house.” You give him a small bashful smile that he grins at, chuckling lightly. 

He shakes his head, taking a few steps inside. His brace squeaks with every step. He’s wearing a sharp dark teal suit that compliments him immensely. “I’ll put this out.” He says kindly, gesturing to the cigar in his left hand. 

“Oh, no, it’s fine, really.” You say without thinking, wanting to be polite. 

He quirks an eyebrow at you as he moves to his desk, “You smoke?”

You shake your head. 

“Well, I really should put it out then. Manners, you see.” He opens a side draw and pulls out an ornate and heavy looking glass ashtray. 

“Unless,” he smiles, “would you like to see a trick?” 

“A trick?” You turn fully.

He nods, “A trick.” There’s a little gleam in his eyes as he takes the cigar, the smoke wafting into the air. He presses the cigar against his lips and then, with a rather dramatic sleight of hand, it disappears. 

He shows you his empty hands, revelling in your surprised look, before he makes it reappear from his left ear. 

“How did you do that?” 

Anselm grins, “an old party trick.” He lightly presses the lit end into the ashtray. “I’m afraid it takes a lot more for me to reveal my secrets than a simple request, even if it is from a very beautiful person such as yourself.” 

You wish your words didn’t fail you, that heat wasn't burning under your skin. From everything you’d been told Mr Vogelweide had seemed like some twisted miser ready to snap and scream at anyone at any given notice. Instead, he seemed painfully charming. 

“My second trick, seems to be robbing you of your words.” He smiles cheekily as you shake your head ever so slightly, trying to break out of that hypnotic spell you had willfully fallen under. 

“I’m sorry, I…”

“You say sorry, far too much, my sweet.” He’d given you a cheeky wink before he collected a ledger from his desk and left the room, bidding you good day. 

.

It was Tuesday when you next saw him, he’d brought you a cup of sweet honey and lemon tea as you were working in the drawing room. Smiling as he placed the tray next to you. 

“For you.” 

“I, oh,” you smile, blinking heavily as your mind catches up with reality. “Thank you. You didn’t need to.” 

“Oh, but I wanted to.” He sat down, taking a sip of his own drink. 

“Thank you,” You repeat, shifting a little from your place on the floor, it was easier to look at the bottom shelf that way. 

“How is the work coming along?” He asks and you were sure he already knew the answer. But he listens intently as you explain passionately about his collection, smiling when you ask him small questions. 

On Wednesday he invites you to have lunch with him. Seemingly delighted when you agree and sat down in the day room with your packed lunch. Commenting that it was heartwarming to see someone you had prepared their own food. And then grinning like a madman when you’d playfully teased him about it. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry that we don’t all have personal chefs, Mr Vogelweide.” 

He snorts, “Anselm, please. You are far too lovely to have my last name in your mouth.” 

You were used to his kind words by now, sure that it was just something he did with everyone. 

You laugh, “And what is that supposed to mean?” 

“Exactly what I said, my dear.” 

“I think your surname is lovely.” You nod playfully to punctuate the sentence, knowing by now that he always reacts positively to sincerity mixed with light teasing. 

“Hmm,” the sound grumbles in his chest. “But you like Anselm, more yes? You agree that it is lovelier?” He inches a little closer as he talks, pulling a face to make you laugh. 

Some of your colleagues began to notice your friendliness, started to ask you to ask Anselm if they needed more information on certain volumes. Their perceptions of him being so intimidating weren’t surprising, but you found it a little odd that you couldn’t convince them otherwise. 

“Would you like a scotch?” Anselm asked.

You pause, halfway through your sandwich and glance at the clock. “It’s 12:35.”

“Oh, vodka then?” 

You scan his face, looking for any sign of insincerity and find none. “Are you teasing me?” 

He smiles, “Terribly, I’m afraid. You were away with the fairies.” He waves his hand.

“I was not.” You swallow, you do not want to admit you had been distracted looking at his face. 

“You most certainly were, what was the last thing I said?” 

“Do I want a scotch?” 

He chuckles, “Before that?” 

The small pause you take is enough for him to beam in triumph. 

“Ah ha, see, my dear?” He wags a finger playfully at you. “Am I boring you so?” 

“No.” You answer a little too quickly. 

“No? Well, I’m not sure if I am so convinced by your protest.”

“Anselm, that’s not fair.” You squirm a little under his gaze.

“What is unfair is you using my first name now of all times.” He leans a little closer, obviously amused. “Tell me, what has you so distracted?” 

“I… nothing.” 

“You’d be a terrible poker player, my dear.” He preens a little. 

“I would not.” 

“Then tell me.” He raises his chin ever so slightly, daring you. 

“I… wasn’t…”

“You… weren’t?” He teases, delighting in your discomfort. “Was it dirty is that why you won’t tell me?” 

Again, you take too long to answer.

“Oh, it was.”

“No, no,” you laugh in spite of yourself, “Stop, it wasn’t.” 

“I’m sure it was, it’s always quiet ones like you that end up into the most depraved things.” 

“I, what, no,” your giggles are becoming harder to control. 

“It takes one to know one, after all.” He lightly takes your hand in his, stroking the back with his thumb. 

“I have no interest in whatever depraved things you are into.” 

He chuckles, “I very much doubt that.” “Do you?” You pull a face and he laughs harder. 

“Yes, especially when you’ve been staring at me like you want to jump my bones for the last fifteen minutes.” 

You freeze, unable to even deny it. 

Anselm grins wickedly, pressing closer and whispering in your ear. “How about I do us both a favour, and instead of waiting around, I jump yours?” 

Thank you for reading!

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[strawberriianime]

Master

♡ master! muzan kibutsuji x succubus! reader

♡ CW: 18+ themes such as sexual content, muzan is a jerk, manipulation, unprotected sex, degradation, creampies, spitting in the mouth, spanking, punishment, rough angry sex, biting, the reader gets hit with a belt, slight humiliation, explicit language~

Muzan’s eyebrow twitched as he heard you drop, yet another book from his bookcase driving him out of his concentration once more. How could he focus on his task if you kept making noise?

Not even a millisecond later, another thud made Muzan squeeze the graduated cylinder he was holding, causing tiny pieces of glass to fly over his desk area. You let out a slight squeak as the man appeared behind you, yanking harshly at your tail causing you to fall from the ladder onto the hard wooden floor. Looking up sheepishly, you were met with a pair of piercing red eyes staring completely through your head. 

“I’m sorry master! It was just that the book’s where so heavy and I couldn’t catch them before they hit the floor.” you brought your knees up to your chest as your tail wagged like a snake along the floor. 

“Why do I even keep you around, if you can’t do anything right?” he spoke in a low voice, if it was possible you would shrink yourself even more than you already were. You didn’t say anything back, causing the man’s eye to twitch even more. Nothing outside of the regular things upset Muzan more than you. It’s like he had a special nerve that only you can hit. 

You felt a tight grip around your wrist that pulled you quickly to your feet, dragging you along the dark black hallway leading to an area you were oh-so-familiar with. It was his bedroom. No one was allowed into Muzan’s bedroom unless he brought you there. You were brought out of your thought as muzan tossed you onto the floor, as he made his way to a solo chair in the room removing his belt in the process. He sat on the chair shaking his head slightly in disappointment.

“Crawl over here,” he spoke, as you got on all fours crawling to him slowly and steadily before stopping right in front of him.

“Lay across my legs,” he commanded once more. Making way, you laid your body long on his legs which were quite uncomfortable for your stomach and boobs. 

Muzan ran his right hand along the material of the dress you were wearing, it’s not like it was covering much anyway. He stopped right where the tight material ended, pulling it up and bringing your ass into full view. He kneads the plushness of your bottom, completely naked already. He commanded you not to wear panties anymore once the relationship got intimate. 

“Now, why should I not strike you with this belt?” he asked tightening his grip around the black leather belt. 

“Master, I apologized for dropping the books al-” a very hard smack was brought onto your bottom causing you to let out a yelp.

“Wrong answer” he sighed as your bottom turned red like an apple, if you were human you would’ve been done for.

“I’ll give you one more chance.” he tapped his foot slightly looking down at you.

“I did everything you asked me to do-” You were cut off once again as the leather made contact with your bottom once more.

“Why do we have to go through this over and over again?” strike

“If I give you a task I want it done flawlessly” strike

“You dropped 5 books today, that’s 5 too many” strike

“Just pitiful” strike

By now, your face was flushed just as red as your bottom. He stood up, causing you to fall on your bruising bottom. He pulled you up by your forearm, and brought you over to his bed, pushing you down on your bottom once more causing you to hiss out in pain. 

He brought his face down to yours, staring deeply into your eyes. “What kind of succubus are you? you’re weak. weak physically and mentally. how does one who does the dominating become the submissive? What a waste of a demon, you should’ve been born human.” Muzan’s words were mean, you were always sensitive and did he know how to hurt your feelings.

He sighed, adjusting his clothing and loosening the tie he was wearing. He removed his bottoms, running his fingers through his hair. “Luckily I found you, someone could have really taken advantage of you.” he moved your legs to each side of his body, hardened length making way to your dripping entrance. 

Your back arched off of the bed as he pushed himself fully into your tight cunt, squeezing him with each muscle of your body. Without warning, he began pumping in and out of you causing the room the be filled with a slight squelching sound. 

“Master, you’re so deep” you whined as you pulled at the zipper of your dress splitting it down the middle and allowing your breast to bounce free. Although he’s never admitted it, it did turn him on watching you toy with yourself. Taking two fingers into your mouth, you coated them in your saliva pulling them from your mouth with a pop. You used the moistened fingers to rub circles on your clit, your other hand tugging at your nipples causing you to let out a sultry moan. 

“Fuck.” you heard your master say before you felt his warmth leave your body. That was only momentarily, as he flipped you around grabbing a fist full of your hair in the process.  He stretched your neck back, muttering “open” as you stuck your tongue out happily allowing your master to dribble his saliva into your mouth. “swallow” you happily obliged. 

He gripped your hips harshly, pricking through the skin as crimson droplets slid down your hip. He leaned over you, his chest to your back allowing him to deepen his thrust, the entire length puncturing your walls. 

“Master I’m gonna cum” you whined clawing at the bed sheets, chasing your high as a tingling sensation made its way through your body. Muzan let out a deep sigh as he rutted into you one final time, before allowing his seed to take over your insides. Just as your high was about to overcome, you felt muzan remove himself from you.

“Master...I didn’t get to cum” Your eyebrows furrowed with desperation.

“And who’s fault is that?” he asked straightening out his attire that he had quickly put back on. 

“Now when I come back, this room better be spotless. If you can do that, I might just reward you.” He walked out of the room leaving you in the dark and completely frustrated. 

[yandere-sins]

Crisis Averted - Part I [Genshin Spoilers 4.1.]

New Genshin Updates always make my thoughts go brrrr. So here's a little something (with modified happenings to fit the story lol) of Wriothesley after he survived the encounter with the Primordial Sea!

Fandom: Genshin Impact Pairings: Yandere!Wriothesley x GN!Reader   Warnings: Yandere, Topics of death (Fear of death, Near-death experiences, Fear of loved ones dying), Reader got locked into a closet, Forced Relationship, Dub-Con touches, Long post

Heavy were his steps as he finally made his way back to his office. 

The stairs seemed to drag on endlessly after exerting more energy in a matter of minutes than Wriothesley had done in months—actually, years. He couldn't even remember when he last needed to drain his vision for just one more blast of ice and then one more. Luckily, Clorinde was neither a talkative fellow nor in much better shape than he was after they both struggled to hold back the Primordial Sea from escaping. They were both tough and hard to take down in a fight, but even they had their bodily limits.

She left him on the floor beneath his office with a short nod, a few words exchanged out of courtesy and thankfulness. Then she was gone, and Wriothesley's heavy boots continued their ascend, disregarding any weariness in his bones and the burning of his muscles. In a way, the Primordial Water was a prisoner of this place, and Wriothesley chuckled at his own thoughts as he came to this conclusion, exhaustion making everything sound a bit more funny in his head. However, despite knowing that the crisis was averted and the seemingly inescapable destruction and ruin had been contained like an unwilling prisoner of the Fortress of Meropide, he didn't feel like he had succeeded in keeping death away from what he treasured.

Muffling the yawn ripping from his throat, how could he not be elated by the thought of returning to you, the feeling giving him back the pep in his step? Even after all that happened—and Wriothesley had thought of many, many ways this could have ended—you were both still here. Alive. 

Unless the ice had frozen you to the core by the time he reached you.

He skipped the last two steps with a jump to avoid this possibility, generating enough energy to jog from the staircase to the closet. Noticing the glistening ice still enveloping the doorknobs, Wriothesley let out a breath of relief before quickly grabbing them, unbothered by the frozen sting ramming into his hands. Not even his body heat would be enough to melt the ice, but he'd be damned if he let his own safety measures keep him from you. 

Bracing his body against one of the doors, Wriothesley made sure to keep the closet standing upright while he pried the other one open. More strength was needed to loosen the ice that had seeped into every crack, an airtight grave keeping him away from you. But even so, it would have been a better death than what the Primordial Sea would have done to you had they not been able to contain it. Wriothesley forced himself to avoid the thoughts of the pain and agony the water would have caused you, the idea of him suffering such a fate enough to rampage his skin with goosebumps. He had put you into an awful position, but at that moment, he had believed it to be more merciful than being dissolved and drowned in the water.

Jerking the door again, he could hear the ice cracking, more relief washing over him. Relief that it would have succeeded in protecting you until the worst was over, and even more relief that it was giving way now, returning you to him. Surely, you must have already been panicking with the cold raking at you and the slow loss of air. He'd have to apologize later for putting you into this position, wipe your tears if necessary, and get someone to smuggle some cake into the Fortress as a well-done treat. But all he wanted to do now was to have you back in his arms. Everything else was a worry for later, like the Primordial Sea threatening to destroy all life around Fontaine.

One more ice-breaking tug and the door finally gave away, revealing a trembling, miserable person. His trembling, miserable person. Your first instinct was to gasp for air, the few minutes locked away having taken its toll on you. You were coughing and gasping, clawing towards the light, more than ready to exit your makeshift coffin. Wriothesley caught you before you fell, your eyes unaccustomed to the brightness after spending so much time in the dark, and he sat you upright again, helping you out of the blanket he had wrapped around you in a hurry when the commotion started. 

More than any ice, your body had cooled down significantly, and other than when he touched the frozen doorknobs, Wriothesley noticed the temperature of your skin even through your clothes. It pained him, yet, it had been necessary. Pulling his trusty coat off his shoulders, he slung it around your violently shivering form, closing the front tightly so the fur collar would warm your cheeks and ears. There was no way he'd let you walk on legs that were fragile from the cold, and he never planned to let you go anywhere on your own in the first place. 

Strong arms wrapped around your body, now engulfed in his coat. His scent was so prevalent, even when it mixed with yours. Wriothesley appreciated how well they worked together. Had scent been enough to mark you as his, he might not have had to do so many things to keep you by his side. You two could have lived pretty normal lives if all it needed was him rubbing off on you, but alas, normalcy wasn't something he had ever been blessed with. Given that there was a very real chance of him dying from being submerged in Primordial Water, not even his death would be able to be claimed as normal. But neither would yours.

But not today. Neither of you died that day, and Wriothesley thanked whatever godly entity he had to thank for that. Even just having the chance to hold you once more was enough to convince him that everything would be okay. At least for now. For one more day. Lifting you out of the closet, he held you, unmoving. Your arms wormed out, desperately holding on to him as if for your dear life, his warmth seeping onto you. Wriothesley felt your nails rake over his chest, panic driving you closer to him. Every shiver, every squirm through the thick material of his coat, and every sob ripping out of your throat, broke his heart more than you'd ever know. 

"Why did you do that?" you asked, your voice so full of hurt and accusation, yet you pressed yourself harder against him, teeth chattering. For all you knew, you two had been drinking tea (albeit reluctantly on your part) when the alarms suddenly began to blare around you, and Wriothesley shoved you into the closet as if he was punishing you.

"I had to," he mumbled back, his words muffled by the fabric, his arms restricting tighter around your body.

"I could have died! It was so hard to breathe! And the cold… the cold…”

More sobs tore out of you, and Wriothesley closed his eyes, knowing he had to endure the blame your shaky, fragile voice rightfully accused him of. You were right, but would you understand? Could you understand that he'd rather allow you to die peacefully and whole than go through the same agony he'd be in at the same time? Wriothesley had laid awake countless nights thinking of the what ifs and what to do if push came to shove, only to still be unprepared and get run over by the events, wrapping you in a blanket and kissing your head before forcing you into a closet and sealing it shut. Your safety, or at least heightened chances of survival, were the only things he could think of at that moment, you being the only component in his plan that could make him panic.

But now you were crying in his arms, the fear of everything—the unknown, the darkness, death—spilling out of you. He wished he could have prevented it, but now he knew that the truth would only make it worse for you. If he told you what was happening, you'd react like most prisoners here would, and he couldn't guilt you. Not telling you and keeping you in the dark, doing whatever he had to do, regardless of the feelings, was the only way to keep you safe. Wriothesley was the only one to protect you from a fate much worse than what awaited him if he failed. But now that the danger had been averted, the least he could do was hold you.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, rubbing your back through the fabric, hoping to give you the comfort he needed almost as much himself. But other than you, he could only dream of being comforted by the person he loved. And even those dreams seemed unrealistic. Worse days awaited you two, your and his fate sealed together with that of the rest of Fontaine. But not now. Now wasn't the time for tears and worries, and if he hadn't been so damn exhausted—with you in his arms doubly, warm and soft—he would have celebrated your survival more. Soon, you'd come to your senses, fighting him again, and this time, he wouldn't stop you. He couldn't. 

So he'd use what little time he had to enjoy this moment. Walking over to his chair, you graciously let him carry you, allowing him this little, intimate gesture of holding you in his arms all throughout the short journey. Even though he sat down abruptly, knees giving out from under him, your body landed softly, enveloped in his while he let out a strained grunt. The feeling of gravity pressing you into him was one he would have liked to treasure for the next few days, and if it had been up to him, you two would have been cooped up for just as long. But beneath his calloused hands, he could feel your body warming up, your breath no longer icy when it brushed his neck and cheeks.

The fight hadn't taken too long, evident by you still being alive, and yet it felt like he'd been gone for weeks, maybe months. Years of absence that made him miss the feeling of your body and the sound of your voice. His mind should have been on the enemy he was fighting, and yet, his only concern had been you. Getting back to you and not dying without seeing you one more time was everything he thought of as he pushed another punch of eyes to that gate that kept the Primordial Sea contained. You gave him the strength to keep going, if only to give you a chance of survival and to not die in pain like anyone else who'd get into contact with the Primordial Sea. To not give up until Neuvillette showed up, releasing him from this duty to society so he could return to the duty of loving you. 

It had been a lot, but when he raised a tired hand to push some of the fur out of your face, witnessing the tears having stopped and the warmth returned to your cheek, it had all been worth it. Wriothesley had to make progress on the project he kept hidden from everyone to ensure that you'd be protected from all the dangers surrounding him. If anyone, then at least you. So even if he couldn't push this tired body of his to do it that day, he knew that from the moment he'd open his eyes after a nap, he'd be back to working on it tirelessly. 

"This face," he sighed, cupping your cheek and snorting softly at the pout crossing your features. Tracing the bridge of your nose, he hummed, satisfied that everything was still right where it belonged and had not fallen off from the cold. 

"These lips," he mused, brushing his thumb over the soft cushions he dreamed about kissing every night. 

"And these eyes." 

His words made your gaze rise to his, beautiful jewels in the moody, damp lighting of his office, glistening from the tears yet raging like the sea in a storm defying his adoring stare. He wouldn't have wanted it any other way. If you had to hate him, then hate him. Despise him, he'd deal with it. Wanted to hurt him, he'd let you. Love him… A man could dream. But seeing a storm of emotions was better than the faded light of death you had when he pulled you out of the closet. That was something he wished to never see again. That he'd fight and strife for to never appear on your face again.

"Don't," he chuckled, grin splitting his lips as he pinched your cheek in a loving reprimand after noticing how you wanted to start arguing. Wriothesley couldn't help but laugh out loud when you let out the most adorable grunt in annoyance, squirming on his lap until you could hide your cheeks into the fur again, away from his touch. He settled for the nape of your neck, holding you there gently and noticing in the back of his head how long your hair had grown since you came to the fortress as he brushed his hand through it.

You glared at him defiantly from the safety of his coat, and Wriothesley couldn't imagine a better place or better look for you. "That's what I'm fighting for," he mumbled, pushing his strained muscles to move so he could kiss your forehead. "It's all worth it as long as I can hold you like this. Just a little longer, alright? I'll get you something nice in return."

Wriothesley wasn't someone who begged, not even for your attention. He'd take it and have it as he pleased, but in that moment, he worried he'd lose you if he let you go—for real this time. The uncertainty and inability to tell you what was happening, left a cold, dark hole inside him, wrenching his gut and bursting his heart with regret. All he had to soothe the pain it caused him was to hold you and feel your soft heartbeat through the layers of clothes around you two. 

It relieved him to know you were safe. He was safe. You both were okay, but mostly you. He never told you that if there was a way to save your life in exchange for his, he'd do it, no question asked. But it was a weird topic to bring up, especially when you considered him to be a heartless, manipulative asshole who used his authority to take advantage of someone less fortunate. So he didn't. Like many things, he kept his thoughts to himself, hoping that, in some miraculous way, you'd come to understand one day. Maybe even like him. 

"I hate you," you reiterated, and Wriothesley managed another chuckle to hide how much that statement hurt him. He fully expected you to jump off his lap now, walk away from him and out of his office, choosing to spend your time wisely instead of indulging him. You were no longer shivering, your teeth calm, and your heartbeat even, and yet, you didn't budge. 

Turning your head to the side, you placed it on his chest, stilling on top of his heart, this small gesture enough to make it threaten to burst out of his ribcage. Maybe he underestimated you. Perhaps you did understand, at least vaguely, that whatever happened had been pretty bad for him. He'd take the pity if it came from you. Wriothesley could only hope you magically understood that whatever he did in his absence, he did it not to harm but to protect you. You never showed him any mercy with your opinions or actions, so this side of you could only be explained by assuming kindness and understanding from you. But whatever it was, he was grateful. So, so grateful. 

This was all he ever wanted: holding you, burying his face in your hair in a moment of vulnerability for him. Where he wasn't stronger, wasn't exuding authority over you. Forcing you to bend to his will. A moment where he could forget the world as all his senses tuned themselves on you. Everything was you, from the softness of your body to the smell surrounding him. Your heartbeat in his ears and his eyes closing as Wriothesley was comforted by your warmth. Even if you'd never appreciate what he was doing, this was enough reward for all the hardships he went through for you daily, but especially on this day. It reminded him of why he was working so hard, even though he never meant to fall in love with you this deeply. Your tiny bit of compliance would satisfy this overpowering need for you for a couple of days until he'd be back on his feet. 

Wriothesley wanted to say more. In fact, he wanted to tell you everything. But it wasn't the right time, nor did he have the strength. Your feelings changed nothing about his, every beat of his heart screaming, "I love you! I love you! I love you!"

He was a little glad you didn't hear it. That would have been embarrassing. 

Grinning to himself, he could feel his conscience being pulled out from under him. His breaths even, despite the extra weight on his chest that he clung to desperately, his chair never feeling more comfortable than in that moment. He wished to stay awake for a little longer, muse about the fact that you were the best blanket he could wish for, feeling just so right. Sleeping while holding you like this would definitely improve his nights, as he wouldn't have to worry about where you were and who you were with. If you were safe or in the process of trying to do something stupid. But he'd take what he could get, even if it was just this one time of you not trying to tear out of his arms and run from him.

After all, this day could have ended very differently. But it didn't. 

He got to hold you again, the crisis averted so he could return to you. He had to be thankful for that, as his life would be worth nothing without you. And even waking up with you gone would be more pleasant than any thought about you dying far away from him. So he'd take this time to rest like he always had wanted, his beloved in his arms, his thoughts and dreams filled with you.

Trying not to be too greedy, now that he knew what it felt like not to lose you.

[osleeplessflowero]

Time for some conveniently timed romance with Dust! Oneshot Masterpost

*Notes - Gender Neutral Reader - A part of the Bad Sanses series - A little steamy this time. Nothing NSFW, but there is some making out..

tags/warnings: Forced Proximity, Biting

🔒Cornered🔒

"Alright, listen up." Nightmare said as he walked back and forth before your little lineup, each of you standing next to each other and waiting for him to speak further.

"I am only agreeing to start this little game because of Killer's insane amount of persistence. In order to make this little game of his fair, I will be casting a spell over the castle in order to temporarily disable your magical abilities such as teleportation and Checking for souls. This way you will naturally be able to hide and seek each other out. When the game is done I will remove my spell. Are we clear?" He comes to a stop before you all, looking over you and Killer who seem to be bouncing in place with excitement. The others look fairly neutral about this where they stand.

"crystal, boss! let's get this party started!" Killer cheers, already debating where his hiding spot should be, unless he is chosen as the seeker..

"Why you would want to play a children's game is beyond me. But, I couldn't care less, so do as you wish." He holds up his hand, magic forming around it before encasing the outside of the castle with a green glow. "It is done. I will be in my study, do not hide in there or my room. I will snitch."

You internally swear, because you'd decided on that earlier..oh well. You'll just find another space to hide.

"okay, who wants to seek?-" Killer is cut off by a series of "not it"s, frowning immediately. "no fair! you guys didn't give a warning or anything. whatevs, i'll do it. better get to hiding.." A menacing grin stretches across his face as he turns around to count, leaving the three of you to split up and find a good hiding place.

Hearing Killer's loud counting at the end of the hall, you take in your surroundings and try to pick a good hiding place with excitement. You open the door to one of the storage closets, only to be met with a pair of red and blue eyelights..

"Shit, sorry Dust- damn, I need to find somewhere quick.." You look around quickly as Killer reaches the lower single digit numbers.

"it's okay, just get out of here before-" He's cut off by Killer announcing the last number, and you quickly shove him back to enter the room with him and lightly close the door behind you hoping it didn't make too much noise. You look up as the skeleton hiding with you recovers from bumping into the shelf behind you both, apologizing quickly to him and backing up.

"it's fine, don't worry about it." He reassures you, the two of you listening intently as you hear commotion outside.

"You have to be really careful finding spots to hide in here..he's memorized almost all of them by now." You furrow your brows as you whisper, hearing a chuckle leave the skeleton behind you.

"i know. dude's a hide and seek fanatic. eh, at least it's fun for us. sometimes it's good to play games like this, even if we're considered way too old for 'em."

"I don't think you're ever too old for hide and seek." You turn back to him with a smile. He nods in agreement, pausing for a second when he hears a door open and close abruptly in the distance.

"if you run, you might be able to find another spot." He glances briefly back at the objects sitting in boxes behind you both.

"Nah, it's too late for that now. He'd catch me immediately if I left." You lean your back on the door, listening carefully for Killer outside. Dust opens his mouth to reply but hears the sound of something beginning to tip over and fall. He reaches out his hand to stop it, only to remember his powers have been disabled, and you quickly pull him towards you so the group of boxes doesn't hit him. You pause as you listen to the noises outside, Killer seeming to walk past with a few chuckles here and there as he looks into different rooms. Thank god he didn't hear..

"i'll find you sooner or later!" He disappears down the hall, and you let out a sigh of relief, turning towards the skeleton who is..rather close to you right now. His hands are resting on each side of your head where he'd steadied himself after you pulled him, his eyelights staring at you in slight shock as he realizes. You feel heat rush to your face.

"Shit, Dust, I'm sorry- I-I just didn't want you to get hurt so I pulled you out of the way and now we're um..we're in a bit of a predicament, huh?" You smile awkwardly, hoping that the darkness around you both isn't making your flushed face too visible. But considering his eyelights are natural flashlights..you have a feeling he already knows..

"it's okay." He speaks softly, sending shivers down your spine. "i'm not gonna be mad at you for helping me out. ..do you want me to move?"

"I.." You pause, your face growing much warmer. In truth, you don't mind this scenario all that much..being close to him and all. However his eyes being solely on you has you a bit flushed..butterflies appearing in your stomach.

Dust's face flushes within the shadows of his hood, him seeming to already know the answer.

"we haven't had a lot of time together, huh?.. guess this is some pretty damn convenient timing. albeit a little awkward." He chuckles, and you turn to face him more directly.

"Yeah..I'm sorry about that. But at least we can now..right?" You smile sheepishly, removing your hand from one of his arms after realizing it's still holding it.

"..yeah. it'll uh..probably be a while before he finds us.." He trails off, unable to break his stare from you. Slowly, his more awkward demeanor shifts, and a smirk makes its way onto his face catching you off guard. "you wanna..find a way to pass the time?"

Oh man. Oh shit this is indeed happening right now- Your face burns as you rest your arms at your sides, looking up at him. So unfair that he's towering over you right now..

"I-I mean if you want to, I wouldn't mind- I mean it's not like I would mind to begin with because you're really cool and is it hot in here or is it just y-" He cuts your rambling off by pressing a kiss against your lips, silencing you. You don't seem to mind this, raising your arm and placing them around his neck, pulling him a little closer to you.

His kisses start soft..but then the lack of attention begins to get to him..and they grow more desperate, at least on his end. He bites your bottom lip gently, sliding his glowing tongue into your mouth when you permit it. He takes a short break after a while so you can catch your breath, leaning down to your neck and ensuring it's exposed enough for him as he speaks. You feel a chill as his breath hits you.

"do you have any idea what you do to me?.." You hold your hand up to your mouth to ensure you stay quiet as he presses kisses against your neck, stopping at one space in particular before looking up at your expression. He grins to himself when he sees your flushed state, lightly biting down near your shoulder and leaving a mark.

"Dust, he could find us-" You whisper shakily as he returns to meet your gaze, wiping some bright purple equivalent of saliva away from his chin.

"don't worry about it." He leans forwards, kissing you again to keep you quiet as Killer passes by once more. "it's my turn to spend some time with you for a bit..please..let me have this. even just for a little while."

You furrow your brows, pressing a kiss to his cheek and hugging him tightly. "Okay. I don't mind having some time alone with you..though just know you can hang out with me anytime, okay? Come see me later..we could have a sleepover, just you and me." You smile, the skeleton sharing it before leaning back in.

"damn it, why can't i find those two? i found you easily, horror!" Killer crosses his arms, trying to think of where you both could've possibly hid.

"that's because i wasn't trying." Horror says nonchalantly, leaning against one of the walls with a grimace as he watches the shorter skeleton pace back and forth. In truth, he already knew where both of you were. He wasn't about to snitch, though. For your sake, and because he wasn't about to help Killer with anything.

"i mean, fair i guess. but they've gotta be around here somewhere. just gotta think..i checked the bedrooms..we can't go in nightmare's spaces..we already decided we wouldn't go outside..hmm. i'll check the entrance hallway again-"

You both break yet another kiss, breathing heavily as you smile at one another.

"Wow, you are..really bold when you aren't shy." You let out a little laugh, the skeleton sharing the action.

"you bring out different sides of me, 's all." He presses a kiss to your forehead, giving you some space as the door knob begins to shake. He quickly moves you behind him into the darkness, motioning for you to hide.

"aHA! found you, dust!" Killer grins proudly, tagging the other skeleton's shoulder. "now it just leaves Them.."

"better get looking then, yeah?" He watches Killer walk out of the closet, before turning back to you with a grin. You raise a brow at him, confused, before he holds up one of his fingers to his teeth and closes the door. You lean back in your spot on the floor, feeling your face burn hotter than a thousand suns.

You take a few minutes to reflect. You really need to spend some more time with Dust..you'll ensure that he never feels left out ever again. A determined look crosses your face before you lift your hand up to your neck, your face flushing when you realize his bite mark is still there. Damn it, Dust! You do your best to cover it.

"ugh, i can't find them anywhere. i give up.. HEEEY- YOU WIN THE GAME, COME OUT!" Killer shouts, causing the older skeleton to wince. "sorry, horror."

You exit the closet with a smug smile, Killer staring at you exasperatedly. "what?! you were in the same spot? no fair!" He puts his hands on his hips.

"There's nothing in the rules against hiding with someone else." You stick your tongue out, hearing Dust snicker in the background.

"well, whatever. i'll go tell nightmare to remove his spell." Killer waves you off, walking off in search of Nightmare's office. You and Dust share a glance before you walk over to Horror, giving him a side hug since you hadn't earlier in the day.

"Hey, where'd you hide?" You smile up at him, Dust taking a sip of a drink he got from who knows where.

"i just hid in my room under the bed. was a wonder i could even fit under there." He chuckles, before looking over you both. "you two have fun?"

Dust chokes on his drink somehow, spitting it out and coughing. You laugh awkwardly, playfully nudging his shoulder. "I don't know what you mean!"

"mhm. thought so. i'm gonna go take a nap, this shit wore me out. you two uh..do whatever." He messes up your hair, walking off. Well, now the two of you are left flushed in the hallway..

The spell over the castle is lifted, and before you can get a word out, Dust pulls his hood completely shut and shortcuts to his room. You simply smile at where he stood, deciding you'd go check on him later.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Curious on how the Pleiades interact with Flower of Nazarick Mc.

I've already done Entoma and Solution but here are the others! 🖤🖤🖤

Flower of Nazarick Reader with Pleiades | Yandere Overlord

Sebas Tian

“Master (Y/n)!”

“Oh hi Sebas…I seem to be in a predicament.”

“Master…how did you get yourself trapped in the wall?”

 I figured out I could phase through things but then I somehow just stopped…But I’ll get out eventually! I'll just be here for a while.”

“I see. Would you like anything while you wait?”

“Hmm, can I get a–”

He finds you oh-so-precious 

He just so happens to witness some of your weirdest and vulnerable moments

Internally he’s the happiest dragon butler there can be 

He absolutely lives for the times you first discover different parts of Nazarick

When you aren’t training or being babysat by Albedo you’ll be doing your own thing

Sometimes monitored by him and the Pleiades

And the way he’s bared witness to your general silliness is a blessing to him

As much as he’ll preach to Yuri about their job to ‘raise’ you right he too will sway with a bat of your eyes

Yuri Alpha

“Come Master (Y/n). Lord Ainz summons you.”

“So early? Can’t he just wait a few more hours….”

“He’s already been waiting Master (Y/n). Please wake up”

“..”

“...Master. Master? I apologize in advance.”

"Blagh!!!"

Because the floor guardians tend to spoil you to bits no one’s all too keen on actually making you do anything

But with Ainz’s permission, she takes it upon herself to be some kind of disciplinarian

…a disciplinarian whose authority sways with her admiration

She’s well aware that you are a Supreme being in training 

So she regales you with tales of the supreme beings who ran Nazarick in hopes of inspiring your greatness

Any kind of decision or even a break in your casual tone with the Pleiades she’s swooning with a blush

She can’t believe her Nazarick’s flower is growing well and will one day be fit to rule alongside Ainz

She will personally take over anyone she deems too forward with you

Whether in disguise or not you happen to be way too flippant about your importance to Nazarick

So until you take the proper discretion to threaten those who disrespect you she’ll do it in the meantime 

With extreme prejudice

Lupisregina Beta

“Ah! Master I’ve never tasted something so wonderful!”

“Gee, thanks it’s a favorite of mine back where I’m from!”

“Hmmm~Learning about my Supreme Flower is the best!”

“Ah haha, LP make sure to chew your food before you speak.”

“Ack-! A nickname I’m dying!”

One of the most fun Pleiades to hang out with 

Unless given specific instructions she’s all about fun

And she adores how you just want to have fun with her too

That often doesn’t mean being in Nazarick which means you’ll be going a little outside their perimeter

That’s where you’ll probably get to see just how little Lupusregina cares for anyone who is not you

You’ll have to stop her from turning invisible to silently slash away anyone who could take your time from her

She’s not good at filling in the blanks so you’ll have to be very specific

Otherwise, you might just find any place you visit to be a graveyard

Narberal Gamma

“Psst Nabarel…you’re scaring everyone away. I’m supposed to blend in.”

“My apologies Master. It’s just these dirty humans dare look at you so casually I feel inclined to–”

“Nabarel.”

“Right sorry.”

This whole pretending to hide among the humans thing has gotten on her nerves

To see Ainz be treated so flippantly by worthless beings no less

It doesn’t help when the prized Flower of Nazarick occasionally does the same thing

And while she might have the restraint to behave around Ainz

She slips a lot more around you

Glaring more openly at anyone who even looks at you

She won’t even let anyone put a friendly hand on your back

She’s breaking bones if they get too close

But if you bat your eyes and smile sweetly she’ll snap it back

She won’t apologize though

Not for hurting them or endangering their life

Disguise or not she refuses to accept lower-life forms even getting within your vicinity

But she can’t deny the pride and excitement when you allow her to wait on you

Taking a break from her stupid disguise to return to serving you makes it a little bit better

Though she much prefers you stay within Nazarick

CZ2128 Delta

“Master (Y/n).”

“Yes, Delta?” 

“May I hold you?”

“Uh, sure?”

“Thank you, Master!”

She thinks you’re so so so so so so cute

She thinks she might short-circuit from cuteness

In her mind, you rival Eclair Eklair Eklare (The penguin Janitor)

If you give her permission to hold you she may never want to let go

But if it bothers you

She’ll settle by resting her head on your lap

Or holding onto any part of your person

She’s not as violent as the other Pleiades when it comes to protecting you but that doesn’t mean she won’t hurt anyone for you

If any creature divides her attention from you she’ll smite them quickly

And then try to get praise from you

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: anon(s)! baby fic is here!! apologies for the wait but it’s long and i hope it’s worth it ☺️ honestly this fic feels like total chaos but i kind of love the vibes. not too much to say other than this was fun to write and i think we’re done on svechnikov baby birth fics lol

word count: 6.4k

tw: mentions of labor, brief innuendo, post partum anxiety (not diagnosed in fic)

summary: it’s time for baby svechnikov number four to make their entrance into the world and of course it’s chaos in the best possible way

“Mama!” Alina shrieks for your attention and your heart skips a beat at her volume, mild fight or flight kicking in before you catch sight of her in the doorway and see that she’s fine.

“Christ,” you mutter to yourself, heartbeat returning to normal. The baby gives a violent kick to your kidney and you wince. “Sorry, bub,” you pat the side of your stomach, “that hit of adrenaline couldn’t have been fun.”

Alina shouts for you again and you level her with a stern look, “hey, what did Mama tell you about shouting like that?”

You’re too pregnant to be gentle parenting, but if you don’t remind Alina about her indoor voice, she’ll just run rampant over the next few months while you’re completely distracted with the new baby. She shuffles her feet and pulls at the little ruffles on the sides of her bathing suit.

“No shoutin’ unless someone’s bleeding or really, really sick,” she sighs and when you nod, she perks up with a toothy little grin. “But I had to shout ‘cause Papa says your frone is ready!”

“My frone?” You repeat, brows scrunched together in confusion. You repeat the word a few times under your breath until it clicks. “Oh! My throne?”

Alina nods and does a little wiggle, bouncing on her feet. “Come on, mama! We wanna show you!” She’s definitely still shouting, but your middle daughter has never understood the concept of an inside voice.

You smile at her and laugh, “okay, mama’s coming, Alya. Remember I’m very slow.” You brace one hand at your lower back, the other hand rubbing at the side of your distended belly. As scary as it is, you’re glad that you’re being induced tomorrow - your entire body is sore and your back and hips are killing you from carrying around this giant Svechnikov baby. Your actual due date isn’t for another week, but since baby’s measuring so big, your ob/gyn made the call for a scheduled induction.

“Mama’s like a tuuuurtle,” she grins slyly, skipping back to the yard and leaving you shaking your head.

As soon as you get to the back door, you can feel the mid-August Raleigh heat and humidity, sweat already prickling at your hairline and armpits. You frown, already uncomfortable and not really in the mood to go outside. Leaving the air conditioning is going to be miserable, but the girls were begging you to join them and Andrei outside, so how could you resist. You scrape your hair back into a knot on top of your head, trying to keep as much of it off your neck as possible. Little pieces fall out anyway and curl with the humidity.

You wedge your feet into the pair of Adidas slides at the back door and step carefully over the lip onto the back patio. The heat hits instantly and you frown, cranky. The baby jabs an elbow into your side and you wince - there’s absolutely no room left in your stomach and every time the baby moves, you’re painfully reminded of that. You hadn’t even realized your stomach could stretch this much, but baby number four is testing the limits.

“Maaaaamaaaaa!” Alina and Kira shriek for you in stereo and you wave from the door, reluctant to go outside into the heat.

“Mama’s coming,” you call back, bracing a hand under the curve of your belly and waddling farther out onto the patio. The air feels like soup and you have no idea how Andrei and the girls are so energetic. Before you can make it a handful of feet, Andrei’s at your side, kissing your temple and wrapping an arm around your waist. “Hi,” you murmur.

“Hi,” he smiles down at you, looking a little tired. His face is bright pink too, which you had warned him would happen. “Off to your throne, solnyshka.”

You let him guide you over the grass, avoiding the lawn toys and stray Barbie dolls that litter the ground. You’re perfectly capable of walking on your own, but it’s nice to lean your weight against Andrei’s side and have him help you. “Did you reapply sunscreen?” You ask, knowing the answer. Besides his face, his shoulders, chest, and arms are all tinged pink too.

He wrinkles his face at you. “I think once? I’m fine,” he shrugs and stops in front of your throne.

It’s one of your beach chairs settled in front of the girls’ old baby pool, an umbrella stuck in the grass behind the chair.

You grin at Andrei as the girls sprint up and dance around you.

“Do you love it, Mom?” Evie bounces excitedly on her toes. “That way you can watch us play!”

“I love it!” You cup Evie’s cheek in one hand, ruffling Alina’s hair with the other. “This is the best throne ever, you guys are making me feel so special.”

“Only the best for our koroleva,” Andrei winks at you, hoisting Kira up onto his hip when she starts tugging at the hem of his swim trunks. She grins her little toddler grin at you and then whispers in Andrei’s ear, a chubby little hand splayed on his cheek. He nods seriously and says, “yes, Mama will watch you go down the slide.”

You laugh and lower yourself into the chair, your lower back popping and protesting. A little groan slips past your lips and all four of your watchdogs whip their heads in your direction. The girls have wide eyed looks on their faces and you offer up a comforting smile, “sorry, girls. Mama’s okay, remember it’s hard for me to sit so low.”

A brief bout of Braxton Hicks two weeks earlier had taken you by surprise and your startled yelp and the way you had doubled over from the shock had scared the girls a little, so they’re insanely keyed into any weird noise you make lately.

“Why don’t you get Mama’s drink?” Andrei sets Kira back on her feet and nudges the three of them off with his hands. After they skip off, Andrei helps you swing your legs up and over so your feet kick in the cool water in the baby pool.

You sigh happily, dropping your head back, “oh god, that feels good. It’s hotter than Satan’s ass crack out here.”

The baby kicks, the outline of a little foot visible through the taut skin on your stomach, as if agreeing with you.

Andrei scratches at his jaw, rasping his fingers through a couple of days’ worth of stubble. “It’s not so bad, when you have the girls spraying you with the hose every two minutes,” he laughs a little, squatting down next to you and shaking his head so stray droplets of water fly off of his hair. Your face crinkles up and you swat at him, giggling. He taps at the side of your stomach, hand warm against your skin. “The little one is behaving?”

“In the loosest sense of the word,” you sigh, shifting in the chair, trying to get comfortable. “I’m kind of ready to get my lung capacity back.”

His hands stroke over the swell of your stomach, the baby’s arms and legs following Andrei’s touch. You pluck at the white linen fabric of your dress where it’s stuck to your skin with sweat, regretting the choice of clothing. “Tell me when you want to go inside,” Andrei says. “Girls will be fine if you’re not watching the water war.”

You hum, swishing your feet in the water. “A little vitamin D is probably good for me,” your smirk matches Andrei’s when the double entendre is out in the air. It’s been a minute since you had Andrei inside of you, too uncomfortable for the exertion, and you miss having him that way. The horny days of your second trimester are long in the rearview mirror.

Before he can say anything, the girls come running from the house, ice rattling around in the Stanley that Evie’s got clutched in her arms. You grin at the sight - your oldest leading the charge with her younger sisters following dutifully behind. Evie unceremoniously drops the cup on your lap with a chirpy, “here, Mama! Daddy even added lemon for you.”

“Oh, my favorite,” you reach out to tug on one of Evie’s braided pigtails and she beams at you before dancing away, Alina hot on her heels. Kira presses her little body up against your thigh and looks at you with puppy eyes. “What’s the matter, Kiry?”

“I have?” She asks, pointing at your Stanley.

You nod and hold the cup out for her, straw pointed in her direction. She plants her hands on the metal and chews a little on the straw while she sucks back more water than you expected. Andrei laughs a little when she gulps down the water, releasing the straw with a heavy sigh and then runs off, shrieking for her sisters.

“Adding another one to this chaos is going to be wild,” he comments, leaning back and splashing his hand in the pool water, hitting your shins with little droplets.

“Poor number four is either going to be the loudest to be heard or the quietest with three big sisters talking for them,” you giggle, tracing your fingers over the engraved 37 on the Stanley - the WAG Christmas gift that keeps on giving. You get a particularly painful kick to the ribs and wince, muttering, “maybe that first option.”

“Dadddeeeeeee!” A trio of shrieks echo across the yard, the girls calling for Andrei to rejoin them. He stands up and presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Duty calls,” he gives you a little salute and jogs off, leaving you to enjoy the way his ass fills out his bathing suit. It’s a view that never gets old, but even better is watching Andrei chase the girls around and play with them, matching grins on all four of their faces. He chases them through the sprinklers - if those have been on all morning, your water bill is going to be through the roof - and lets them splash him, pretending to get scared. He watches while the two older girls clamber up the side of the small inflatable water slide you’d ordered back in June when it was obvious that the majority of the summer was going to be spent in Raleigh, with the girls running loose in the backyard.

Kira stays at the bottom, in the splash zone, shrieking happily when Evie and Alina zip down the slide and hit her with water.

It’s honestly the best thing you’ve ever bought - the Nečas kids have been over for play dates at least once a week to run wild in the water and you’ve had a ton of the other guys and their families over for barbecues and parties. Now, you’re just glad it’ll keep your girls occupied while you relax.

After you’ve been outside for an hour or so, you call them all back so you and Andrei can reapply sunscreen to the girls’ pink little faces and shoulders. Andrei gets his own healthy dose of sunscreen, even though it’s too late for him to avoid the sunburn on his face, chest, and shoulders. You make a mental note to throw a bottle of aloe into the fridge when you get inside.

“I hate this, Mama!” Alina whines, bouncing from foot to foot while you try to cover her face in Baby Coppertone. “It’s yucky and sticky and I don’t want it!”

“If you don’t let me reapply,” you huff, out of breath from trying to keep her still between your knees and your severely diminished lung capacity, “your skin is going to turn pink and hurt.”

“I want pink skiiiin!” Alina howls, dodging your sunscreen covered hands and running off, her face a little mask of white from the lotion you hadn’t been able to rub in properly. She disappears into the playhouse and you roll your eyes, giving up completely. You’re too exhausted to fight her and tomorrow’s sunburn will be a problem for the babysitting grandparents while you push out the bowling ball baby laying on your bladder.

Behind you, Andrei laughs and teases you, “just like her Mama, that one.”

“Absolutely not,” you grumble, holding out your hands to him so he can pull you to your feet. “I’m literally so quiet and agreeable.”

“Maybe when you’re sleeping,” Andrei scoffs, helping you step out of the pool. His palm finds the side of your stomach like a magnet, fingers spread over the swell protectively. “Otherwise, you’re stubborn like a bull.” He pauses, smirks. “And loud.”

“You’re terrible,” you mutter, waddling as fast as you can to the bathroom. “Bullying the woman who’s carrying your fourth giant baby.”

Andrei’s voice carries through the bathroom door as you shut it behind you, “this is only the second big baby! The other two were normal sized.”

Later, when it’s far past your bedtime and you still can’t sleep with excitement and nerves swirling low in your belly, you whisper into the dark of your bedroom, “Drei? Are you awake?”

It takes a second, but eventually he replies, “depends.”

“On what?” You reply quietly, shifting and bending your leg so you can open up your hip a little and relieve some of the uncomfortableness. Kira curls closer to you, one arm draped over your stomach, the thumb of her other hand wedged firmly in between her lips. She looks even more like a baby while she sleeps, long eyelashes fluttering against the tops of her cheeks, and you start to feel emotion clogging your throat. Her last night of being the family’s baby. You hadn’t had the heart to put her back in her own bed when she came wandering in a few hours ago.

“On what you need from me,” Andrei’s voice is clouded with sleep, but you see and feel him roll onto his side so he’s facing you.

You stick your tongue out at him lightly. “Last night as a family of five,” you murmur. “Any final guesses - fourth girl or first boy?”

“Girl,” Andrei replies on a yawn, reaching his hand out and over Kira to rub at your belly. “Belly looks the same as it did with all three, just bigger.”

He’s not wrong, but, “agreed. But only because I think my nose spread out again like with the girls.”

“You’re just as beautiful as always,” Andrei says.“Your nose looks the same too.”

You’re convinced he’s lying, but there’s no point in arguing now.

“Think we’ll see bub tomorrow or will it be a couple of days?” You yawn, exhausted but wired. You can’t decide if you have to pee or if it’s just the pressure of the baby.

“Tomorrow,” Andrei laughs a little, “if the kid knows what’s good for her.”

You yawn again and Andrei tells you to get some rest, “it’s going to be a busy few days, solnyshka.”

Somehow you manage to fall asleep and then it’s induction day, a hectic morning consisting of four grandparents showing up and three little girls bouncing around asking if their baby is coming yet. You’re overwhelmed by the time Andrei helps you into the passenger seat of the Navigator, kissing you gently.

“Calm, my love,” he murmurs against your lips, rubbing at your stomach. “We know what to do, right?”

You nod, “right.” Wrapping your fingers in the neck of his t-shirt, you tug Andrei back in for another kiss. “Let’s go have a baby!”

Twelve hours later, you’re dripping in sweat, contractions gripping your stomach every thirty seconds with regularity. Andrei’s eaten lunch, dinner, and then a second dinner around 8:30. You, on the other hand, are on your ninth cup of ice chips and are dying for something that will actually fill you up.

You hold out your hand for Andrei’s when another contraction starts and he lets you crunch his fingers together while you breathe through it. “More ice?” He asks, brushing frizzy, damp strands of hair off your forehead.

“No,” you huff, slumping back against the pillows. “I never want to see an ice chip again. The second this kid pops out, I need you to get me a party platter of sushi, I don’t care what time it is.”

Andrei laughs and promises that he’ll get you whatever you want.

After that, it’s a blur. The contractions are nonstop, your ob/gyn between your legs encouraging you to push, and Andrei’s arm braced around your upper back to give you some leverage.

“Okay, I see some hair,” your doctor says. “Big head, but one push and it should be out. Then we’ve got a baby!”

Andrei murmurs encouraging words in your ear that you barely hear over the rush of blood in your head and the guttural scream that forces out of your throat. You scream and cry and there’s pressure and then release as the baby slides out.

You’re allowed to slump back against the pillows, tears streaming down your face while you crane your neck to see the baby, “is the baby healthy? Is she okay?”

“He’s just perfect,” your doctor beams, holding the baby up. “It’s a boy, mom and dad!”

Her words sink in and you start sobbing - a little boy!

Your husband’s big hand is cradled over your head and the baby’s on your chest, bloody and scrunched up and crying. Your own hands automatically come up to cradle him, your lips pressing against the top of his head. “A boy! Oh my god, Drei, a little boy,” you sob to him, laughing into Andrei’s mouth when he kisses you.

“I’m so proud of you,” he says shakily, his cheeks wet. “A son. Solnyshka, thank you. He’s - thank you. Fuck, I love you so much.”

Andrei’s hand comes up to cover yours on the baby’s back and you’re jolted by how warm his hand is compared to yours, you’re shaking and freezing, but all you can focus on is how happy you are.

The baby’s cries taper off and he nuzzles against your chest, your heart melting at how perfect and adorable he is.

“He looks like the girls,” Andrei comments, unable to stop staring. His fingers stroke over the baby’s back, your own trembling with the adrenaline come down.

You laugh. “They all look like you, babe. My genes never stood a chance,” you can’t stop smiling, pressing your lips all over the baby’s head. He’s so warm against your chest.

You’re not sure how long you get to keep the baby on your chest, but the next thing you know, you’re in recovery, dozing while you watch Andrei hold his son. The baby is a big one, like you’d expected, weighing in at a sold nine pounds, eleven ounces. Your entire lower body is still throbbing with pain, but it’s all so worth it to see Andrei with the baby cradled in his arms.

“Four kids and I still can’t believe he’s real,” Andrei chuckles hoarsely, gazing down at the baby with shiny eyes.

“Oh, I can believe it,” you reply dryly, shifting with a wince. “I feel like we should’ve been more prepared with boy names.”

You’d run through the list of the few that you had liked, but none seem right. His middle name will be for Andrei, but the first name is stumping you both.

“We’ll figure it out,” Andrei looks up at you with a grin. “I love you so much, I said that, right?”

“Several times,” you hold out your arms and wiggle your fingers at him. “Give me back my baby, Drei.”

Andrei transfers the baby to you with the ease of a practiced parent, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. You’re both exhausted and it’s so early in the morning the sun isn’t even up yet. You’ll have to pass out soon, but right now you can’t get enough of the infant. He looks so much smaller when he was in Andrei’s arms. You trace over the slope of his nose with the tip of your index finger, seeing so much of the girls and Andrei in his features. “You sure you don’t want to name him after your dad?” You ask, double checking.

“No, no,” Andrei shakes his head. “Geno has that covered. Besides,” his lips twist up in an impish little smile, “Igor’s not my favorite name.”

You know he’s thinking about the Canes’ most recent loss to the Rangers in the second round of the playoffs. The Rangers getting swept in the ECF had been extremely satisfying in your house.

You giggle a little and watch as the baby yawns. He’s been quiet, sleeping on and off, so much more peaceful than his older sisters. “Okay, I get it. You know, my grandfather, his name was Demetrius. A few letter changes…Dimitri?”

Andrei’s knuckle brushes against the soft pudge of the baby’s cheeks and murmurs the name. “Dimitri,” it sounds so different, so much better in his accent, “Dimka.”

He yawns in your arms and it feels like something clicks into place in your chest. You nod at Andrei, “that’s it. That’s his name.”

“Dimitri Andreievich,” Andrei laughs as he says the name. “Big name for a little boy.”

“He’s almost ten pounds,” you scoff. “This is a gift from the Big Boy genes, oh husband of mine.”

He smirks at you, leaning in for a kiss and your poor battered vagina gives a weak throb of pain. It’s too soon for him to be this adorable.

After a solid three hours of sleep, broken up once so you can try feeding Dimitri, you start pestering Andrei for your sushi. It’s nearing eight in the morning on the nineteenth, making it nearly twenty-four hours since you had breakfast with the girls before coming to the hospital.

“What about anything else?” He frowns at you. “Sushi for breakfast is…” He trails off, wrinkling his face in disgust.

With the baby latched to a nipple, you pout at him. “Did I or did I not push your giant child out of my body?” You pause to inhale and then continue, “And! Since it was already this morning before someone thought to feed me, all I’ve eaten in twenty four hours is ice chips and a peanut butter sandwich. I am starving!”

Andrei laughs at you, but before he can answer, gets distracted by his phone vibrating in his pocket. It’s probably Elena, looking for an update since you hadn’t called anyone in the early hours after Dimitri had been born, exhausted and looking to soak in the time as a trio. You turn your attention to the baby while Andrei chats in Russian on the phone. He hangs up and sits down on the edge of the bed, wrapping his hand around your knee. “Mama says the girls are going wild, waiting to hear about their new baby,” he grins toothily. “Can sushi wait? I think maybe I’ll go get the girls to introduce them to their brother.”

“Natives are restless?” You ask, the guilt of being away from the girls, even for a day, even to literally give birth, starting to creep in. Tears well in your eyes and you don’t bother to do anything about it, knowing you’re going to be a weepy mess for the foreseeable future. “How do you feel about meeting the big sisters, D?”

Dimitri lets out a soft little baby squeak and you give Andrei a watery grin. “I think he likes that plan. Bring me my girls.”

In the time that Andrei’s gone, Dimitri naps in his little plastic bassinet and you get helped into the bathroom by your nurse, ready to sit with the girls as long as their attention spans can handle it. You brush your hair back into a neater braid and wash your face clean of sweat. By the time that Andrei texts that he’s parking, you feel a little more human.

You can hear little footsteps running down the hall and you rub a hand over Dimitri’s belly, “get ready for Hurricane Svechnikova, bub.”

“Mama!” Evie bursts through the door first, hair in two pigtails on the top of her head and a bright red tutu around her waist. You beam at the sight of her and open your arms.

“Hi, bunny,” you coo, emotions clogging up your throat. “Come give me a hug!”

She dances over to your side and clambers up on the bed, nearly smacking you in the face with a piece of construction paper and jostling you a little painfully. You wrap her up in a tight hug, inhaling her little-kid scent of markers and Johnson and Johnson shampoo. Over her shoulder, you see Alina skip into the room and you hold open one arm.

“My Alya,” you grin. “Come join Mama.”

She’s in a Canes giveaway t-shirt that you’d cut down so it wasn’t a literal dress on her and you briefly wonder how wild they were being if this is how they ended up dressed. Alina needs a little help getting up on the bed and as Evie is pulling at the back of her shirt, Andrei appears at the door, Kira on his hip and an exasperated frown on his face.

“Didn’t Papa tell you not to run?” He raises an eyebrow at the older girls cuddled against your sides.

“We missed Mama,” Evie replies, pouting. You smooth a hand over her hair and shake your head at Andrei. They don’t need a parenting moment right now. Kira wiggles in his arms and reaches for you until Andrei relents and settles her on your lap in a way that doesn’t cause you pain. None of the girls have even so much as looked at the baby, but you’re not rushing them, knowing it’s a big change for them.

Andrei settles on the little couch while the girls fill you in on all the fun they had with the grandparents yesterday. They make Andrei bring you the bag of pictures they drew for you and the baby and that seems to trigger them. “Oh! Wait, Mama,” Evie perks up and looks around, “where’s the baby?”

You laugh and point at the plastic bassinet, “your little brother is right there. Just waiting to meet you three.”

Like it was rehearsed, all three of them scramble to the side of the bed to get a good look at Dimitri.

“He’s a boy?” Alina asks, squinting down at him.

“We have a brother? Not a sister?” Evie carefully reaches a hand into the bassinet to touch one of Dimitri’s tiny feet. “I thought it was a sister.”

“Baby!” Kira pats the edge of the plastic. “Baby in Mama’s belly?”

You kiss the back of her head. “Yeah, this is the baby that was in Mama’s tummy. His name is Dimitri.”

Andrei comes over to lift Kira and Alina into his arms so they can get a better look at the baby. “It’s different, right, to have a brother?” He asks, looking at you softly. You know he wouldn’t have cared if the baby were a girl, but there’s something about men and their sons, and you’re beyond happy that you were able to give him that.

“He’s not going to do much for a while,” you say. “But when he gets moving, I bet you’re all going to have a lot of fun.”

“Mmm,” Evie hums thoughtfully. “Boys are kinda yucky.”

“I’m a boy!” Andrei gasps, mock offended. “Am I yucky?”

You shoot him a wicked smile over Evie’s head and mouth ‘filthy’ at him, surprised that you even have it in you to flirt with him. Andrei laughs, his eyes sparkling, and you both nearly miss it when Evie chirps, “yeah, ‘cause sometimes you’re smelly after hockey.”

You snort a laugh and then, sensing that he’s missing some kind of party, Dimitri stirs, making little noises and wiggling his arms and legs. The girls watch, fascinated, and you skirt around Evie so you can pick him up. You glance at the clock on the wall and it’s been close to two and a half hours since you fed him, so he’s probably hungry. He starts to fuss more and the girls look a little disgruntled by the noise, so before they start complaining, you pucker up and plant a smacking kiss to Evie’s cheek, making her giggle. “How about Papa brings you guys back home so you can play and don’t have to watch me change any stinky diapers? Then you can come back later with Nana and Pop and Babu and Dedu? You can introduce them all to your new brother,” you grin, adding more excitement and animation to your tone so they’ll get excited too.

“You’re sure?” Andrei asks, even as your two middle kids are fighting in his arms, chattering at each other over who touched who. He’d scooped them off the bed as soon as Alina started poking at Kira to see how close she could get the former baby of the family to the edge of the bed without pushing her off. The noise they’re making is starting to agitate Dimitri and you’re very sure. Andrei himself looks a little frazzled with the girls practically shrieking in his ears.

“Go ahead,” you widen your eyes at him. “We’ll, ah, we’ll do a little more sibling bonding later in the day. D and I aren’t going anywhere.”

Andrei looks conflicted about leaving you, but honestly, Alina and Kira’s fighting is starting to give you a little bit of a headache. Dimitri is fussing more and you don’t want to start feeding him with the girls in the room because that opens up all the “whys” and “what are you doings” that the girls are so prone to these days.

Evie’s tucked against your side, looking down at the baby. She sighs and looks up at Andrei, “he’s so loud. Let’s come back when he’s quiet.”

Andrei’s mouth tips up in a half smile and you manage a weak laugh, reflexively holding out a hand to guide Evie when she half rolls, half climbs off the bed and beelines for the door. She waves over her shoulder and chirps a blithe, “bye Mommy, bye baby brother.”

“I think she’s expecting you to follow her,” you say to Andrei, a little wide eyed at your oldest’s actions. Securing Dimitri in one arm, you wave the other at the door, “go, please! Before she gets kidnapped!”

“Right, yeah,” Andrei nods and bounces the girls in his arms, “say bye to Mama. We’ll see her later, okay?”

Taking a little break from fighting, Alina and Kira wave at you over Andrei’s shoulders, blowing kisses. You wave back and then practically deflate when the door shuts behind Andrei and you’re left alone with the now opening crying Dimitri. You sigh and get him adjusted on your breast, quieting him immediately. You rub tiredly at your eyes, frustrated and exhausted. Maybe you’d underestimated the chaos four kids are going to be.

Once Dimitri is finished eating, you call for a nurse to bring him back to the nursery so you can get some much needed sleep. “I always feel bad sending them to the nursery,” you confess to the nurse, Jenna. “It makes me feel like a bad mom.”

“Sweetheart,” she laughs warmly, “I saw that husband of yours head out of here with your little girls. Sleep as much as you can before going home to that chaos.”

“They’re usually much better behaved,” you say wryly. “New sibling apparently throws off the routine.”

She tucks Dimitri into a swaddle and says, “oh, they get used to it. You two are old pros at this, so I think you know what you’re doing.”

You smile warily at her, a nervous pit in your stomach that you hadn’t felt after any of the girls’ births. You’re not sure why you feel so unsettled now, raising a boy in the early infancy stage isn’t any different than raising daughters. When Jenna takes Dimitri back to the nursery, you slide down on the bed, pulling the blankets up to your chin and getting as comfortable as possible to take a nap. A few tears leak out of the corners of your eyes, dripping down your temples and into your hair and you take a deep breath. It catches in your throat a little and you hiccup, covering your eyes with a cold, shaky palm.

Somehow, you manage to nap on and off, dozing in that weird limbo where you can hear most of what’s happening around you, but time passes faster than you think. After what feels like two minutes, but is actually closer to two hours, you give up on the nap and find your phone in the mess on the bedside table. You busy yourself with responding to texts and scrolling through social media, zoning out to a video of a woman making homemade pop tarts when Andrei appears at the door.

“Delivery,” he announces, your head shooting up at the sound of his voice. In his hand is an obscenely large paper bag with the name of your favorite sushi place stamped on the side. He catches your gaze and shakes it enticingly. “Husband of the year, yes?”

“If there’s spicy tuna in there, I’ll get the trophy engraved now,” you tease, a small, but genuine smile on your face. Andrei kisses the corner of your mouth and sets the bag on the rolling table.

“Two spicy tuna and plenty of miso soup,” he promises, sitting down on the mattress and helping you unpack the plastic containers.

You rub your chopsticks together and ask, “how are the girls? Everything okay at home?”

Andrei’s in different clothes than when he left and he smells like soap and cologne, so you know he at least showered when he got home.

“They’re good, don’t worry about them,” he reassures you, passing over a container of seaweed salad. “Kir was down for a nap when I left and our moms were playing Barbies with the older two.”

You nod, poking at the seaweed with a lazy motion. Andrei’s gaze is steady on your bent head, you can feel his eyes studying you and so you eat a mouthful of the seaweed, chewing slowly. As hungry as you had been earlier, it’s hard to swallow now. Andrei’s knee bumps yours and you look up at him, worried brown eyes on yours.

“What’s going on, solnyshka? Are you okay?” He ducks his head so he can maintain eye contact. One of his hands comes up and cups your cheek. You lean into his touch and shrug.

“I’m okay,” you sigh. “Just…”

Andrei’s quiet while you try and find the words. You’re not even sure what you’re feeling, why you’re so overly emotional.

“I missed the girls,” you say quietly. “But, four kids? It just…this isn’t going to be easy at all, Drei. They all started chattering and Dimitri was crying and I just wanted to cry too.”

“He’s not even a day old,” Andrei says gently. “It’s okay you’re emotional. I’ll tell you a secret,” he laughs under his breath, “I cried in the car when I went to get the girls.”

“Yeah?” You raise an eyebrow, setting your chopsticks down. Andrei’s not usually one to admit to crying.

“Yeah,” he nods. “Probably more because we have a son, but still. I cried.” Andrei winks at you, smiling warmly.

A little laugh slips past your lips and you tug at the end of your braid. “I think I’ll be okay once I get into a routine. But I’m glad the moms are staying until the season starts, we’re going to need all the help we can get.”

Andrei scoffs and moves to sit next to you and wrap his arm around your shoulders so you can burrow against his side. “You’re the rock, koroleva. If anyone can handle me, four kids, and the hockey season, it’s you,” he praises you, mouth pressed against your temple. “Just tell me if you’re overwhelmed, okay? We figure it out as a team.”

You nod against his side, the knot in your chest loosening a bit. Your arm rests on his stomach and Andrei keeps you as close as possible, knowing you need the physical comfort right now. “We’re so done having kids, by the way,” you mutter into his shirt.

Andrei laughs and your whole body vibrates with the sound. He rubs his hand up and down your arm, teasing, “Dimka and I are still outnumbered.”

“Oh, that is not something I care about,” you laugh in response, snaking your hand out to pluck a piece of sushi out of its container. “We’re closed for business down there.” You pause and then continue, knowing Andrei will have a retort. “For baby making business. Other fun activities will be reevaluated at six weeks.”

Your husband gives you a mock little salute, amusement written plainly on his face. He picks up his own piece of sushi with his free hand, popping the piece in his mouth and chewing before he says, quietly and totally sincerely, “you’re the best mom the kids could’ve asked for, you know that, right?”

“You’re going to make me cry again, you big jerk,” you sniffle, pressing a hand to your mouth. “I just finished crying!”

“I’m sorry,” Andrei cuddles you closer. “Eat and rest, because the moms are not going to want to wait too much long to meet the little guy.”

You pull back a little so look up at Andrei’s face and he has a slightly dopey look in his eyes, a little upturn to his lips like he’s trying to fight off a smile. “You want to go get him, don’t you?” You ask, exhaling a little laugh through your nose.

Andrei nods eagerly, unable to hide his excitement. “Yeah,” he admits, “I know we should rest, but I really want to keep holding him.”

“Go get him,” you say, “I kind of want to get a hit of that newborn smell.”

“Weirdo,” Andrei captures your chin in his fingers and tilts your head up to kiss you sweetly.

You grin against his mouth, “your weirdo and mother to your weird children too.”

Andrei’s laugh follows him all the way out the door.

[redrose10]

Could you do 5 and 10 with yoongi

We finally got our power back and are getting things put back together. So I’ll be getting through the rest of the requests that I have!

I originally had this one written differently but given recent events I decided to scrap that one and write a new one instead. I hope this is okay!

#5 Why are you helping me?

#10 Come here

Warnings: Just some angst, swearing

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

For probably the hundredth time you went over the list in your head making sure you had everything completed. You’d spent all day cooking and baking all of Yoongi’s favorites. You knew he was having a hard time lately both mentally and physically and was under a lot of stress so you wanted to do something nice for him. You had a super hot bath ready with his favorite vanilla scented bubble bath. His favorite tshirt and sweats already set out on the bed. The tv was programmed to record the nba game he’d been talking about just incase he missed it. You were excited and ready to show him some love.

So when you heard the front door open you excitedly ran to him jumping up and wrapping your arms around his neck peppering his cheeks with kisses. You expected him to melt into your touch like he normally would but this time he tensed up. His body stiffened and he made no move to reciprocate your affection. Instead he cursed under his breath before pushing past you to the kitchen.

“I made you all of your favorites.”, you said trying to stay calm as you followed after him.

While you were reaching for a plate you accidentally bumped into him making him stumble a little and spill some of the water he was sipping on down his shirt.

Annoyed he slammed his hands down on the counter. “Y/N, do you realize how annoying you are? I just want ten minute of peace without you constantly hanging on me. Can you please just not act like a clingy spoiled child for once in your life and leave me the fuck alone?”, he spat while shoving you away from him. You stood off to the side as you watched him sulk back to the bedroom.

After taking a few minutes to compose yourself you walked back to find him undressed in the bedroom. “I ran you a bath. And I put out some clothes for you already.”, you said cheerily still trying to lighten the mood.

Yoongi ignored you and instead grabbed some clothes out of the dresser before storming out of the room and to his home studio slamming the door behind him. You sighed as you took a seat on the bed next to his untouched clothes wondering where’d you both go from here.

Over the next few days the two of you barely spoke to each other unless necessary. It wasn’t completely unlike Yoongi to turn cold towards you whenever he was going through something. He did it to everyone. You knew that when he was ready he’d come to you to apologize and talk it over. You didn’t exactly like the way he handled things, but you also knew he was working on it so you continued to do your best to support him.

Which is why you were standing in the bedroom watching him struggle to get his tie right for some big meeting he had to attend. He shook his head and sighed before he undid it for the eighth time making you chuckle.

“Come here.”, you said reaching out for him. When he chose to just stand there and pout instead of walking over you playfully rolled your eyes and went to him yourself.

After you were done getting his tie on properly you started helping him with his earrings making sure everything was on and clasped.

When you pulled away you were surprised to see tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Oh my god what’s wrong?”

He shook his head and sniffled but remained silent.

“Yoongi what happened to make you so upset?”, you asked pulling him down onto the bed next to you.

“Why are you helping me?”, he whispered.

You chuckled, “What do you mean? I just helped you with your tie.”

“Not just that. You make me food every day. Make sure I have a hot bath and comfy clothes. You’re so patient and kind to me. I don’t deserve you or your help. I was awful to you all week. Even after I was so horrible you’re still here and taking care of me.”

“Yoongi, I love you. I know you’re going through something and I just want to be here for you. Whether it’s making dinner or setting out your clothes or simply putting your tie on. I just want to help you any way I can and make it even just a tiny bit easier for you. And when you’re ready to talk I’m also here to listen.”

He reached over taking your hand in his, “I’m sorry Y/N. I’m going to work on being able to voice my emotions instead of just pushing you away. But thank you for always being there for me anyways. I love you.”

You knew he was still a little in his head so you helped him into his suit jacket before giving him a kiss and a fresh cup of coffee to remind him you still loved him and were there for him and you sent him on his way feeling a little better than before.