#decided to provide with hopefully the right gif

[bri-sonat]

someone called out in the tumblr abyss (the tags), i answered.

(one without text and one with for all uses, wants and needs.)

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU

Warnings; Several yanderes, platonic yanderes, romantic yanderes, yandere behavior, monster au, fem reader, no one starts off knowing reader is fem so they/them pronouns used, deranged behavior, spiders, driders, centaurs, unicorns, Nemean lions, werewolves, selkies, minotaurs, genies, nagas, magic, threats, panic,

~~~~~~~~

Nothing made sense anymore.

None of what you saw could have possibly been real, and even if it was, where did that leave you? The area was not familiar and you had gone through one of those mirrors to get where you were. Hopefully those... things... wouldn't think to look for you where you decided to hide out until you got a plan together. This was all provided you could think of a plan despite everything going on around you.

When you had woken up inside a coffin, the panic had set in so quickly. Since the very second that coffin spilled you out on the marble floors to the odd creatures that greeted you with unhindered curiosity, you were afraid and lost. Even now as impossible things had taken place, a thought echoed in your head from what one of the creatures had said.

I thought Humans were extinct?

Certainly a few of those you saw around you looked human, but most were some kind of creature or abominable hybrid. None of it made sense because creatures like this couldn't possibly exist, right? If that was true, you were suffering some kind of psychotic break. But if it wasn't true, if you could actually trust your eyes to tell you the truth, then you had something completely new to deal with.

Exhaustion hit you hard enough that you couldn't help but cuddle close to your stone companion and shelter, seeking comfort in the cold statue.

~•§•~

Eyes slowly flickered open in the dark, searching with sleep-hazed confusion at the oddly cramped surroundings. Attempting to lift your hands only made more confusion race through your mind as some kind of lid stopped you from completing the motion. The fog of sleep that had hung so heavy in your mind was now replaced with sharp awareness and clarity, throwing you into a state of panic as you realized you were trapped.

The dark container you found yourself in had you thrashing and desperate for freedom from your newfound confines. Your kicking and thrashing- painful against the lid of your container- managed to actually knock the top loose and slightly ajar. That bit of light from outside was the only encouragement your knowledge deprived brain needed to know it was doing the right thing by struggling. What you didn't expect was the feeling of this human-sized container pitching forward to spill you out unceremoniously on the ground.

The cold surface beneath you felt even colder on your soft face, wondering just where you were and why all of your memories leading up to that moment were just a blur. You didn't have long to spend on your musings before an unusual voice reached your ears, closer to a baritone than a tenor but still a masculine sounding tone.

"Oh my, I thought we had all of the students accounted for. Could it be I miscounted?"

You pushed yourself up with your hands to try and face whoever was speaking, seeing an oddly feathered man with dark black hair walking towards you. He wore a mask- or perhaps he truly had a beak- that made him look like a rather large corvid walking towards you. Despite his humanoid features, something in the back of your mind told you that this man was not what he appeared at first glance. Even his bright yellow eyes that shined from beneath the black mask seemed inhuman as they studied you intently.

"You certainly don't seem like one of the sudents I selected. I'm fairly sure I would remember someone odd... like you..?"

The man stopped in his tracks, regarding you strangely as if he were actually looking at you now. He certainly wasn't recognizeable to you and you had no sense of familiarity upon seeing him. Something about you must have caught the man's attention as he cocked his head to the side, crouching next to you and observing you keenly. Something about the way he moved was so bird-like you wondered if he was pretending to be some character or if there were actually something inhuman about him.

"I don't often need to ask this question, and I am very curious now what your answer will be, but what are you?"

That was certainly an odd question. You thought the answer would have been obvious, but something about the whole situation made you feel like what you were going through wasn't normal.

"Human..? Isn't everyone?"

There was a long moment of silence and it was in this silence you decided to look around now that your poor face stopped hurting from your abrupt meeting with the ground. You were in the center of a large room where what seemed to be dozens of coffins with various sizes and shapes floated around you. The container you came from was also a coffin and you could see where you had actually damaged the smooth wood with your desperate attempt at freedom.

Beyond the floating coffins- as surreal as they were- you noticed that you were not the only two present. Many others were standing around you, all in the same black, purple, and gold robes. All looking at you with unguarded curiosity. It was as you looked at these unusually robed people that you began to realize none of them looked particularly human. The more you searched, the clearer it became that none of those standing around you seemed to be fully human.

One of those standing there was a heartbreakingly beautiful bird-man with smooth complexion and flawless makeup darkening his lovely purple eyes. His fair blond hair woven with long feathers. Behind him was a long train of peacock feathers in iridescent colors that seemed all the more colorful beneath the flicking candlelight. As he noticed you glance at him, he seemed to almost puff out his chest in pride and the feather train behind him ruffled ever so slightly.

There was what you could only describe as a some kind of horned horse-man standing not too far from the bird-man. He had fiery red hair that complimented his smokey blue eyes, a prominent golden horn sat in the middle of his forehead with two long strands of hair framing the protrusion. His horse-half had pure white fur, the tail of the horse sporting the same flaming hair the human-half had. The hooves on the horse half were that same sparkling golden that made the hybrid almost seem regal in a way.

Even beyond the two oddities you saw more and more inhuman features on the beings standing around you. There was a light murmur of conversation humming through the air and that was when you caught something unusual.

"I thought humans were extinct?"

You were brought back to attention by the man in front of you clapping his hands as he stood back to full height. He had an unsettling smile playing on his lips and he regarded you the same way one would regard a lost puppy sitting, shivering from fear and cold at their door.

"You actually are a human, aren't you? How amazing! To think, a human just appeared at my College after centuries of one not even being sighted! How thrilling. This certainly is an unusual situation, and it is my duty as Headmage to safeguard such an endangered creature. Worry not, little human, you are safe here. Aren't I just the kindest?"

You felt like you had been dropped in some wretched nightmare that made no sense despite how desperately you searched for it. There was no such thing as horned horse men, or crow men, or peacock men! None of this was possibly happening because these things just didn't exist where you were from. Maybe as a child you had believed such lies, but as an adult you couldn't comprehend these creatures possibly existing. It was just madness.

It was as you were pulling yourself too your feet that another voice spoke up, this one a touch deeper than that of the Crow man.

"Merveilleux~ to see such a mythical being up close like this... Their beauty is absolutely stunning in such a captivating and exotic way, très bien!"

You saw the man speaking and felt a little confused when he was taller than many of those standing around him. As others moved to look at him you saw just what it was that gave him such height above the rest. It looked as if someone had taken the top half of a man and attached it to the body of a spider about where the face would be. The spider body itself was compact with black markings along the abdomen and long, spindly legs that seemed more than double the length of the body. Two prominent fangs sat curled at the front of the man, slightly obscured by his robes hanging over them, but you could see the faint sheen of venom on the pointed surface of the far too-large mandibles.

Something about seeing the handsome face and shining green eyes of the blond man paired with the monstrous spider-body that he was attached to made the world seem to spin and pitch beneath you. Though you had just managed to get to your feet you certainly didn't feel steady on them, but as the crow man reached out to steady you, you did the only thing you could think of and bolted. Your sudden flight from the situation made several others startle, and in the confusion you darted for what looked like an exit or portal out.

It had not been what you hoped it to be as you found yourself standing before a dark castle that seemed all the more intimidating compared to the monster filled room you just fled. Still, you could try to find somewhere in the castle to lay low, maybe even out on one of the balconies next to the many Gargoyles that overlooked the dour building. There had to be somewhere out of place enough for you to hide- or so you hoped- from the hybrid monsters that so happily decided to keep you despite not knowing a thing about you.

The slow wandering of halls with no opposition put you on edge, wondering if you just got lucky or if you hadn't seen anyone for a reason. Even as your footsteps quietly echoed in the dark halls, you remained vigilant in your quest to find somewhere out of the way.

Eventually that quest for somewhere safe led you to one of the many rooftops of the building. Your salvation came in the form of a recessed alcove that went further back than it appeared, facing away from the front of the castle. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep you sheltered from the rather cold wind and make you feel concealed even among the rooftop.

With Gargoyles as your company and adrenaline quickly fading, you found yourself exhausted and in need of a rest. Despite how fast you seemed to have stumbled upon your hiding place, you could see it had actually been quite a distance you must have run. The portal far away on the other side of the enormous drawbridge that let you into the castle. Your energy was sapped and you were more than confused, but you couldn't fight the insistent pull of sleep on your frazzled mind forever.

~•§•~

The old crow Fae was still reeling from the absolute shock he had just gone through, but most would likely be feeling the same were they in his shoes. It simply was next to impossible, but an actual human was roaming the halls of Night Raven College. He himself had last seen a human more than half a millennia ago and they had since been declared extinct for several centuries. Seeing such a mythical being in the Hall of Mirrors was certainly unexpected and curious.

At first he believed they were a Selkie who had lost their fur, but the absolute lack of magic from them told him all he needed to know. Humans were the only non-magic species that had reached sentience in Twisted Wonderland, but this left them at a disadvantage as all other sentient species had magic and quickly out competed them. Some of the Naga and other beastman tribes even took to eating humans as a delicacy before they were declared extinct. Now Crowley had what was very possibly the first recorded human in centuries somewhere lost in his college.

The grants he could get to care for the human alone justified finding them and keeping them at Night Raven despite the fact they were not actually a student or member of the college. Even beyond just the money to keep such a rare specimen safe, he was going to get to see their magicless qualities first hand. It was always assumed that humans had some kind of innate abilities to make up for the fact that they didn't have magic. Their affable nature made them great at keeping the peace between strong personalities and powerful magic users. Though humans were technically at the bottom of the food chain as far as sentient species were concerned, Crowley could keep this one creature safe at Night Raven College.

All he needed to do now was find the wayward human and get them to settle down. Of course, there was still the question for where the human could possibly stay that would ensure their safety.

~•§•~

The dark haired prince walked through the somber halls of Diasomnia. Emerald eyes taking note of the ever familiar surroundings that made up his temporary home. The dour prince was looking to visit his beloved Gargoyles and figured now was as good a time as any. He had not been invited to the ceremony after all and he was not so rude as to show up without invitation and no good reason. Besides, it had been a while since he last visited his beloved statues.

As he made his usual rounds based on the age of the statue, the horned royal paused when greeted with an unfamiliar sight. Beneath one of the Gargoyles was someone soft and delicate looking. They were clearly not made of the same stone as the statues, but by all appearances the Gargoyles had borne a child of flesh and not stone. Perhaps Lilia would know where this odd little creature came from.

The prince was gentle removing the soft (s/c) being from beneath the statue, taking care to not wake the warm creature. His obsidian wings flared with contentment as he managed to extract the oddly delicate humanoid. Outwardly appearing, they almost seemed to be a selkie without fur, but their scent said otherwise. They were much softer than a siren or banshee which often had very taut skin. With renewed purpose, the thorn prince carried his new discovery to his own room, tucking the little being into his blankets. He would find somewhere else for the odd creature to stay after he conversed with Lilia. For now, he could leave the fragile being in the safety of his nest until he figured out what they were.

Perhaps he would crash the ceremony after all. Even if he wasn't invited, this was a good reason.

[cloveroctobers]

HOW THEY DEAL WITH DISRESPECTFUL NEIGHBORS — MULTI [Summer Preferences]

A/N: thanks for voting on my poll, which I already knew who was going to win that but I still wanted to do a preference anyway since I never got around to writing what I originally wanted for my other characters on my summer prompt list rip to that idea! I’m writing in the order of which was voted from most to least highest minus one character.

WARNINGS: language, violence is sometimes the answer 🤭 + FC changed for Mikey due to recent news unfortunately, *GIF DOES NOT BELONG TO ME, not here to argue with anyone that feels different and you’re always welcome to keep imagining JB or simply do not engage with this.

<- read my previous summer anthology prompt here.

࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪

~ARMANDO~

He doesn’t take disrespect lightly.

The both of you lived just fine in your condo out in Miami, although Armando preferred the privacy more than anything he just kept this to the back of his mind that he was going to provide for your dream house together. Having your four year old daughter, Isaura only gave him more drive to get out of here.

The neighbors that lived on the floor directly above you, were all wide smiles and friendly making it their special job to try and introduce themselves to whoever they caught. They found you three at the pool one Sunday evening before dinner. Armando immediately felt they were weird telling you later that night in bed beside you, “they look like they eat people.”

“Armando!” You scolded as you slipped a bonnet on a half sleep Isaura, “they do but maybe they’re just the over friendly type.”

Armando sucked his teeth as he reached around you to snatch the sleepy toddler into his chest, “niña, can you say oblivious? tell mama that’s exactly what she is.”

Isaura just shifted her head looking away from the both of you.

“See, even your own daughter doesn’t want to listen to your mess. Give me my baby back so I can put her down,” you waved your fingers while Armando swings his legs to the edge of the bed.

He shifts the tiny girl against him and shakes his head, “nah, I got it. Got to make sure the fucken weirdos aren’t hiding in her room since you don’t want to believe me.”

“Hey, watch your mouth!” You lecture while Armando rolls his eyes, peeking down to see if Isaura even budged at his foul language before you continued, “I don’t know what goes in your mind sometimes,” you sigh with a shake of your head as Armando makes his way to the door, “…now you know I’m going to be up half the night checking on her.”

“Don’t worry about it, daddy’s gonna take the daybed just in case.”

Frowning you respond, “So you’re just going to abandon me?”

Armando snorts, “there’s enough of me to go around but if you wanna stay hold up in here by yourself, when we have the hills have eyes lurking from the floor above, that’s on you.”

���Bastard.” You muttered just as Armando was about to shut the door.

“What was that, mami?”

“I said I’m getting my neck pillow.” You answered as Armando laughs to himself, leaving the door open just a crack before carrying on down the hallway.

Armando would peep the disrespect more than you would but mostly on separate occasions. First it started with the husband constantly taking Armando’s assigned parking spot with one of his many cars, he would always turn up right when Armando had to circle around to take someone else’s, and when he was face to face with the husband’s false apologies and story about how he had to keep his monster truck locked away in storage thirty minutes away from the building, yet he always decided to take it out when Armando worked late nights…which was pretty convenient if you asked Armando.

Then you would tell Armando how the wife would make…interesting comments about how many more kids you two planned to have. “Hopefully a soccer team with your good looks!” She would laugh as she gripped your wrist. She would also ask: How you two managed to have free time with a four year old and if she was receiving enough attention between the two of you? That last question was off putting because why was this woman worrying about your child? Then if you listened closely enough, around the time it was time for Isaura’s nap or bedtime, whether Mike, Marcus and his family, or your best friend or family were watching her while the both of you were at work, the couple would decide to either start salsa lessons (according to the wife, Amy) which ended up turning into salsa lessons with no clothes directly on the floor, the husband winked at Armando who was not the least bit impressed.

“I think it’s common courtesy that you two learn to keep it down for not only us who have a child…who also has a routine but for your other neighbors as well. I’m sure there’s plenty of classes out in town you two can get into outside of this building.” You hinted to them.

“Oh sorry! I told Kit we were being too loud, see honey?!” She weakly slaps the wannabe WWE star against his buff chest, “We’ll definitely keep everyone more in mind this time, again sorry about that.” Amy apologizes.

“A man has needs though, am I right?” Kit would laugh, clapping his hand down on Armando’s shoulder who peeked at it, wondering why this man was so comfortable touching him.

Armando sniffed, “and you need to have some respect is all that we’re saying. Along with removing your hand from me.”

“Hey now! No need for the animosity, we’re all friends here neighbor!” Kit says as he applies a little more pressure on his hold of Armando’s shoulder but that only causes Armando to darken his stare.

Even Armando knew that statement was fake. Next thing he knows, when he’s heading out to work the morning after, he’s got a broken side mirror on the driver’s side and a large scratch on the passenger door with Kit’s car—that’s usually parked to the right of Armando’s—already gone for the day. Armando doesn’t take long to assess the situation, jaw tight as he looks around the garage for where exactly the cameras are. He would be hacking those as soon as he clocked in and didn’t give a damn who had something to say about it. He ended up calling you on the way to work, thanks to him phoning Dorn to carpool—him and Kelly had a disagreement so she drove to work on her own—to tell you exactly what happened since it was one of those days where you clocked in earlier than he did.

“I’ll try and keep him from doing something stupid.” Dorn calls out to you from the driver’s side.

You whisper as you stepped out briefly from working with a client as an aesthetician, “would you? I know it’ll be hard—

“I’m right here.” Armando reminded, “I’m done dealing with their creepy asses, Kit better hope I don’t see him when I get home tonight because his ass might turn up missing.”

You didn’t even argue because once Armando had something made up in his mind, it was hard for him to ever see another perspective. Also you didn’t doubt that Kit had something to do with it.

The last straw was when Kit and Amy’s German shepherd nipped towards Isaura’s face, when you had a minor confrontation with Amy, who you ran into while out shopping. She tried to sweep over the fact that she admitted to wishing that it was Armando on top of her instead of her actual husband and that it wasn’t a big deal because Kit was doing the same with you. Not only did she fix her mouth to say that, she also said she thought about what a kid would look like with her looks and Armando’s. “There’s nothing wrong with daydreaming.”

She said and it felt like she had spit in your face at how wicked her smile was on her overfilled lips. Again she was too close in your space but once Isaura ripped a cry so loud below along with the sounds of snarling from Amy’s dog, you didn’t hesitate to pull your child up into your arms and to kick at the dog.

“What’s wrong with you?!” Amy yelled pulling on her pet’s leash, “He’s just an animal!”

“An animal who tried to bite my kid’s face off! You’re lucky my foot didn’t connect but next time my fist won’t miss yours.”

“Are you threatening me?!”

“It’s not a threat, It’s a promise.” You concluded, “Stay away from my family if you know what’s good for you.”

“Excuse me? What does that mean?” Amy kept a tight hold on the leash now, “These are the things Kit and I get for being good neighbors?!”

You stopped in your tracks as you turned to give Amy one last look while you cradled a scared Isaura to your chest, “it means exactly what you think it means. Y’all keep saying your good neighbors but is that in the building with us or in your sick delusions? I’m warning you Amy, back the fuck off or you’ll really be sorry.”

Amy sticks her nose up in the air, “my uncle is the best lawyer in the city. If you’re thinking about harming my family then I’ll sue both of you so hard that little Laura will have no choice but to have a new family. Kit and I have been trying for months for a little one and Laura is the cutest thing.”

Laughing you found it hilarious that Amy thought she could continue to try you with her mind games. She really didn’t know who she was fucking with.

“I can guarantee that your uncle doesn’t have shit on my man. Also my father-in-law is a pretty good detective and he’s already heard about you two, just waiting for the word. The difference between you and I, is that I love only one man. And sweetie, it’s no competition when I’ve already won. Now you enjoy the rest of your day…before it expires.” It was your turn to send her a sickeningly charming smile as you spun back on your heels.

Leaving her like a gapping fish, you make your way back to your car, strapping Issy in with another caress to her face, quadruple checking that the dog didn’t do anything to her face and handing Issy one of her toys to cuddle with on the way back home. As you started your engine, you immediately called Armando through the car’s Bluetooth before pulling off from the curb.

It’s game night when there’s a knock on the door. Since Armando is helping Issy with the game piece on the game board, you push off the couch to get the door.

“Oh hi!” You greet, which makes Armando also move to get to his feet.

“We’re your new neighbors on the floor above who just moved in and we wanted to say thanks for the blueberry crumble and bottle of wine you sent our way, you really didn’t have to do that! We just thought it would be the kind thing to find the time to come down and introduce ourselves.” The woman speaks first with her hand held out.

You grasp her hand with a warm smile as you say, “mostly everyone is to themselves here but we got…pretty close with our old neighbors and my boyfriend, Armando and I thought we’d keep the tradition going.”

Armando gives a short wave at the two new faces as he stands beside you now, “hello,” he addresses the two while he bounces a giggly Issy on his hip.

“Aw, she’s so precious! Isn’t she, Steven?” The girl at the door elbows the guy beside her.

You take in her expression carefully, “do you two have any kids?”

She jabbed a thumb at the taller man, “Oh I’ll leave that all to my brother here.”

“I don’t have any…at least no one’s ever told me anything.” He nonchalantly shrugged while he looked off in thought up from his phone, while his sister rolls her eyes at him.

Armando snickers, which makes you quirk up a brow at him.

“Do you guys know where the other tenants moved off to? The agent says it was pretty abrupt but we got a steal on most of their furniture.” The young girl chats.

Armando speaks up, “heard they really wanted to explore more of Europe…guess Miami living inspired them to see what else the world has to offer.”

“Sweet,” Steven nods, “that would be a dream.”

“That is what they say life is,” Armando adds as he sends a quick wink to you while you lightly shake your head at him. He then slips an arm around your waist appearing as a Kodak moment to the siblings outside the door, “but welcome to the neighborhood you two, I’ve got a feelin’ you’ll be good neighbors.”

In short: he eliminates the problem.

~RIO~

He had been away on a business trip when he gets back home earlier than expected. He likes to do this sometimes, liking to surprise you with his pop-in’s—take that how you will. What he wasn’t expecting was his ex sitting in the sitting room with you, the two of you chatting to the right of the home from the foyer over a bottle of tequila.

“…so the hell are you gonna tell lollipop king?”

“Girl, who?”

“You know his name, Christopher!”

You laugh followed by a groan, “he’ll find out sooner than later since old man Stewart and him are practically golfing buddies who act like they don’t gossip.”

Rio used that moment to clear his throat from his leaned position against the doorway. He didn’t like how your guard was down as he just lingered there, you slouched on the couch and Rhea balled up in one of the living chairs but that was another conversation. He needed to know just what you were hiding from him and now.

“Tell me what, mama?” Rio rasped, hands clasped in front of him.

Rhea’s mouth formed into an O-shape, getting ready to collect her things but Rio cuts his eyes at the short haired woman too, “nah, you don’t gotta leave on my account.”

“Believe me I’m not,” Rhea sassed as she collected her square glass and the almost empty bottle, “I’m going to check on our son while you guys—debrief.”

You gasped, “this involves you too, you know?!”

“I don’t live here!”

“Could have fooled me.” Rio adds as Rhea makes her way by him, bumping her shoulder with his.

Rio just snorts as the woman heads across the hall towards the side entrance of the kitchen. When he sets his eyes back on you, he watched as you used one of your hands to pinch in between your brows as you pulled your bottom lip into your mouth. The buzzed haired man then plops down beside you, lolling his head to meet your gaze but you just quickly down the rest of your drink.

“What’s going on?” Rio questions.

You exhale, “oh nothing much, it’s good to see you though!”

“You’re tipsy on a Wednesday afternoon and not on wine…something’s up?” Rio analyzed you pretty quick, which was to be expected.

Exhaling you close your eyes, thinking if maybe you just dozed off then Rio would leave you alone and Rhea would sneak out with Marcus out the back. You knew that was a slim chance since that boy loved his father a lot and would want to see him before heading back home with his mom.

Your eyes were widened as Rio gripped your bandaged hand, making you wince as he did so. You were hoping that he wouldn’t notice but you couldn’t be that much of a fool, not when it came to your husband.

“I’m going to ask only one more time before I start looking for answers myself, so tell me what happened?” Rio quizzes one last time.

Sighing you meet Rio’s eyes as you tell him, “Polly’s mother is visiting and she started shit with Marcus while he was outside playing in the front yard. I was bringing the plants from the garage up front when this all happened but Stewart saw it happening from his window and came out before I got up front. I handled it, she got HOA involved, and now apparently there’s a meeting on Saturday morning.”

The shift in Rio was instant as he sat up, still holding your hand in his lap, “she don’t even live here and she thinks she can say something to the kid? Did she do this to your hand? Give me the details, mama.”

And so you did. You told him how Marcus was running around out front keeping himself entertained while you were dragging the outdoor plants that you thought would look nice in the backyard up front from the garage. It took some time for you to pick up on the yelling, making the palm of your hand get impaled by one of agave leaves that you tossed to the ground at the familiar rebuttal of Marcus’ voice. Your instincts kicked in even if your hand bled like crazy and hurt like hell, you didn’t take kindly to strangers screaming at kids.

You were once an elementary school teacher before becoming a housewife to Rio. There was always a certain way that you needed to speak to people, especially kids and you weren’t having it with Polly’s mother who always visited in the summer. Polly was cool, even her mother-in-law was tolerable (although she was a yapper) but you just didn’t understand how someone like Polly had a mother as nasty as this Karen who was drilling into Marcus who she didn’t even know. In her mind she believed that Marcus specifically shouldn’t be playing around the sidewalk, that it was against the “rules” of this community that she wasn’t sure Marcus even belonged to and should be playing in a different area instead.

You guys had a fence but Marcus said that he hit the ball too far and it ended up on the sidewalk so that’s the only reason he came around the fence. You didn’t care what the reason was, he knew not to play near the street of the gated community but you trusted his word regardless and old man Stewart confirmed this with a nod of his head. He had the both of your back’s and you guys spent the holidays every so often at each other’s houses.

“It got ugly, babe. Told her to keep her finger out my face and to not ever speak to my kid like that again. She tried to chest bump my back so I turned around and shoved her on her ass. She’s lucky I didn’t smack the shit out her wal-mart Glenn Close looking ass. Which was enough ammo for her to call HOA but we’ve got cameras just as much as Polly’s got her ring camera so I’m not worried. I just didn’t want Marcus to deal with that bullshit.”

Rio ends up smiling at you and you widen your eyes at him. “I’m glad you find this amusing.”

“Oh it’s not—I’m just proud of you.”

“For not going to jail?”

Rio tilts his head to the side, “The verdicts probably still out on that one, knowing the kind of woman she is.”

“You’re right.”

“I’ll have to talk to Polly.” Rio decided as he caressed your fingertips.

“She’s already sent mountains of texts, she’s with us and says she’ll work on talking to her demon—I mean mother.” You can’t fight against the liquor but even still, you said what you said.

Rio nods, “you don’t even got to worry about the rest. I got us.”

“…do I want to know?”

“Nah,” Rio shrugged as he used his other hand to caress your face, “just continue being the best thing that happened to me. I know I don’t have to thank you but I want to, for looking at Marcus as your own.”

You laugh, “he’s a great kid, part of you, which makes me love you guys even more so of course I will—without question.”

Rio pulls you by the chin to his lips, which you’ve been missing all week and when he lets you slip your tongue into his mouth, he pulls back with a grin. “Later mama, I got to make sure you two are good first.”

“Huh?” Your eyes fluttered open as Rio holds your own hand up in front of your face to prove his point, “that’s just a scratch.”

“Our girl will be the judge of that.” Rio tells, “Can’t believe you didn’t try and sneak her over here.”

“Thought she was on business with you guys.”

“We got more than one medic, mama. I kept the best here with y’all.”

“How kind.”

“I’m a kind guy.”

“I don’t think the dust bag will think so when you’re finished spooking her.”

Rio doesn’t fight his grin but replies, “Who says I’m gonna do it? I got people for that but the message will be real clear.”

“Rio—

He shushes you as he pecks your lips once more, making you lean your forehead against his, happy that he’s home before he’s sending out a code to your number one medic girl to stop by the house ASAP.

the both of you break away as the thudding of steps decended down the steps, revealing Marcus who called out Rio’s name, who he needed further reassurance from.

“Hey bud,” Rio starts as he embraces the young boy before knocking their fist together, “you good?”

He slowly nods but Rio knows he’s not, although he had a feeling Marcus held his own. It usually took a lot to bring it out of him to defend himself but Rio would see for himself once he looked at the footage tonight.

“You know what? Let’s go play outside while the ladies finish up.” Rio gets to his feet and the slight panic in Marcus’ face is evident, making your heart break while Rhea tightens the folding of her arms.

Rio squeezed Marcus’ shoulder, “hey, when you’re with me you remember you’re the king of your own castle, aight? Nobody can tell you nothing, move how you wanna move and own it. This is your neighborhood too, you understand?”

“…yes dad.”

“Alright? I got goalie.”

Rio sends a firm look to you two ladies before he heads outside with Marcus right beside him.

He attentively analyzed the situation before deciding what else needs to be done. One thing you could never do was go against the family he built and that was always serious to him. Anybody that messed with his family, immediately became his target and if it had to be a part time neighbor from across the street?

So be it.

They’ll learn soon enough.

They always do.

~LUCA~

“Babe! You’re not gonna believe this.” Luca calls out to you as he slams the front entrance door from down below shut, before making his way upstairs.

You can always tell when Luca’s home because he has a tendency to be heavy handed, always slamming the door that it tends to shake the house. It’s not something he purposely does, majority of the time he doesn’t even notice but it is a thing and even your neighbors in the townhouse to the left of you mockingly mentioned it.

They were assholes anyway and should be the last ones to talk about noise. Having loud company over every other day and some type of event at their home every other weekend, also crowding up the streets, without inviting you guys on multiple occasions. There were eight specific units on this street that were all grouped and managed underneath the same property and you would think they would also include you two. The both of you quickly learned that Chicago was much different than Copenhagen.

And what Luca remembered.

“I wouldn’t take it to heart and give it some time, yeah? Otherwise? They can piss right off!” Luca’s older sister that he’s reconnected with while being back in the states tells you two, laughing lightly as she’s helping you two unpack weeks ago.

You wouldn’t have if you didn’t decide to be neighborly, bringing them their mail when it accidentally got mixed in with yours, waving at them in passing as you chatted with the other residents, and then actually going over to introduce yourselves with a platter. It was all fraudulent and they just didn’t want to be bothered with you two, Luca gradually started to forget about it after finding a new position at one of the top three upscale restaurants in the city until you would bring it up. And of course he listened to anything that bothered you.

Their music was too loud for hours at a time sometimes until two in the morning on a week night, Luca would calmly address the situation to the guy of the household when he would get a hold of him on his way in from running around the city in sweats and a hoodie—yes in the middle of a scorching August, the both of you always had early mornings with you being a medical assistant down at the hospital and with Luca always having to do prep. You didn’t have the patience to stick around for the guy and his significant other never came to the door when you both knew she was home probably hungover.

Luca was friendly in his approach about it and at first, the athlete told Luca that they were just celebrating as much as they could before he was back on the road to get in the box yet he couldn’t help but to throw in a jab, “They do have these things called single family homes. Maybe you two should consider that.” In the end he said they’d try to keep it down. That still rubbed you the wrong way when Luca slipped up and told you that part.

Which only meant turning the music up even louder that the house rattled on their end. If their garbage was over filled, they would dump some of it into yours attracting raccoons but would then claim it had to be one of the other neighbors—you two had a ring cam, it wasn’t. The last straw was the fiancée drunkly pissing right in the path of your garage, which you stepped in the next morning when you were running late to work.

Humming you turn your attention from the street view of the balcony to Luca who stood in the doorway. You sat comfortably in the outdoor chair, paperback turned over on the table as you finished sipping at your fruit water.

“Hey baby,” you greet with a smile, relaxed and bare faced on your day off in the summer light as you held your face up for Luca to place a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth before he sat in the chair across from you.

Luca stretched his arms across the table as he greeted you back, “hello darling…you’re not gonna believe this!” He continues.

“What? That you suddenly caved and like Chicago dogs now?” You quizzed, folding your own arms as you leaned against the table, ready to listen.

Luca chuckles, “not likely, babe. Guess I won’t ever fit into their standards, yeah?”

“I think the world will still turn.”

“I think so too,” Luca agrees with a small smirk, “listen to this. I went to the bakery, the one Marcus is working part-time at now because of the whole thing with Carmy’s uncle—just to check on him you know? Guess who was also in there?”

You raise your brows after finding it sweet that Luca made it his mission to check in on Marcus. The two hit it off when Marcus trained underneath him for a couple of weeks back then and he’s been over to the flat a few times along with Sydney. Luca didn’t give you much time to guess since he was so adamant about telling you about his day. Usually when something was on Luca’s mind, his words went haywire out of excitement—depending what it was of course.

“Ryan!”

You blinked at the news of your boyfriend running into your problematic next door neighbor in slight confusion, “okay…a little surprised he likes baked goods since he gives the impression that he drinks egg yolks and eats raw meat for fun.”

It was Luca’s turn to furrow his naturally arched brows, “I’m not quite sure how you’ve gotten that idea and you might want to cut back on your time watching Santa Clarita Diet. It might help.”

You snort as you wave your fingers along for the now buzzed blond to continue. It wouldn’t be the first show that you watched where Luca passed judgment on. He is definitely the one to ask a thousand questions while you’re trying to watch something.

“Ryan told me, Leah was rushed to the hospital yesterday morning.” Luca informs you, “Want to know what for?”

Sitting back against the chair, you keep your arms crossed and fight the urge to roll your eyes, “…not particularly, no.”

Luca bites down on his bottom lip trying to hold it in but doesn’t, “she crapped out a parasite.”

Your mouth drops open, “You’re lying.”

“Honest to flavor town.” Luca does the praying motion before pointing to the sky and you knew it was serious business if he mentioned Guy Fieri.

Clasping a hand against your mouth you try to hide your snickers but Luca picks up on the fact that you found this a little too amusing.

“…what have you done?” He points an accusatory finger at you.

Lifting your shoulders, your lips twist around in laughter and you dared peeked back at Luca who was awaiting your answer. You wouldn’t leave him in the dark much longer, “fine! I sent a cleanse her way after all that day drinking and with my medical knowledge…I thought I’d give a helping hand.”

“Which means what?” Luca pressed, sitting back as well as he listened to you.

“I may have or may not have used the papayas that Grace left here before she went back to Texas when we went to that farmer’s market,” you slowly admit of your time with your old friend who came to visit with her baby girl Charlie, informing your boyfriend of the slight clues, “we both know I’m allergic and I didn’t want them to go to waste. So I made our lovely neighbors some papaya cereal with the seeds, put it up real nice in a jar for them to enjoy. Left it by their door and watched Ryan bring the bait in.”

Luca exhales, “you’re actually starting to scare me.”

“Remember that old nutritionist who’s heavily spiritual I told you about that we always end up seeing once a month at the hospital?” You ask while Luca nods his head, “she experienced the same thing partygirlLeah99 did but her’s was intentional.”

The bomb that you dropped had Luca clenching his eyes shut, “what you’re telling me is…you basically gave our neighbor some form of a laxative?”

“Just removed the toxins and clearly Leah has some. How many parasites was it?”

Luca shook his head, “no, no, no. We’re not just going to skip over the chaotic evil you’ve just done.”

You tilted your head to the side, “I think it was more lawful evil…maybe even good. She pissed on our property, Luca! And Ryan’s a dick.”

Luca holds his forehead now stressed, “Yeah and he can K.O. us if he really wanted to if he ever found out! He’s a professional boxer—

“I don’t care! Lessons need to be taught and he’s out of here in the fall anyway so that’s one less problem we have to deal with.” You shrug as you reach for your water again but Luca snatched it back.

He sighs, “we talked about this…you can’t just go and take matters into your own hands without discussing it with me first. I said I would talk to them about the peeing situation—

“You tried talking to them before! They don’t care about us, and sure they don’t owe us anything but I worked really hard on that charcuterie board, then they excluded us constantly and probably will do it again once Halloween comes around—

“So that’s what this is about? You’re worried about Halloween?” Luca questions, knowing it was one of your favorite Halloween parties.

“How dare they throw a summerween party when I’m the number one queen of the spooks!” You childishly turn your head to peek out into Chicago’s scenery from your first balcony.

Luca sips at your water now and exaggerates as he lets out an, “ah! That’s refreshing but I don’t know what to say about my girlfriend being upset over some people that we don’t even know well enough to care about their perceptions of us, if they even have any.”

Both of your professions caused you to be around all sorts of people, especially some downright mean ones but you both persevered. Luca would always take it as a learning curve, whereas you tended to take things more personal majority of the time. Yes you were the type to cry when angry, go ahead and sue your sensitive heart! Luca was only a little older than you and slightly better at communicating—when he wasn’t a nervous wreck—but you on the other hand tended to proceed with action rather than words or a conversation like Luca.

“Don’t say anything to me, just love me, choose me,” you playfully recite while Luca scoffs, “and wish those bitches an early happy Halloween, specifically from me to them. What she won’t know what hurt her.” You wink while Luca runs a hand over his buzzed summer look in shock.

“Well it actually did,” Luca frowns with his hands held out although you’re still unphased, “and doesn’t this count as assault?”

There goes the panic everybody!

You knew a good lawyer that shared the same blood as Luca (if it ever came to that) you weren’t worried and maybe you were chaotic evil after all? Depends who you ask.

Pouting you say, “Did she die?”

“No!”

“Then everybody wins!” You clap as you push back from the table, “So…What’s for dinner?”

“Not fucking papayas that’s for sure.” Luca states while you laugh, beginning to collect your things to bring back inside.

Luca sits outside for a moment longer, you briefly kiss his lips, him shaking his head at you afterwards once more as he whacks your backside before you head in to search the fridge, and he stares out into the city just wondering what else this place will bring.

Hopefully better understanding of being neighbors in the states!

MIKEY

“The hell happened to you?” Mikey asks, sneaking up behind you in your kitchen.

Which wasn’t unfamiliar for him to do but you did let out a yelp as you stood by your coffee and tea counter. You turned to your old friend, who scanned his eyes all over your filth covered clothes.

“My neighbor Lorraine is mad that I called her son out for being a pervert. Then she tried to argue that my dog is barking at all times of the night so I don’t have the right to speak on her son!” You paced the floor.

Mikey crosses his arms, “well she isn’t too bright because that thing in there is far from a dog,” he starts while you give him the side eye for talking shit about your Maine coon, “and what’s this about a pervert?”

You sigh, “..her son is just this college dropout who’s apparently into astronomy and thinks I don’t catch him with his telescope set out on the front sidewalk, right where the living room window is, as if he’s gone camping with my body being the view!”

It wouldn’t be Mikey’s first time catching you streaking around the house either—that was your fault for giving him a key—but this random kid? He had a problem with.

Mikey rubs at his facial hair, “Was he the one that did this to you?”

You huff, “that little bitch ran as soon as mommy Lorraine thought it would be nice to dump her trash on me out in the courtyard.”

There was always something going on in your courtyard out back, whether it was random cookouts even in the winter!, residents fighting over which outdoor seating technically belonged to them (it didn’t belong to anyone, everybody at the condo had access to it), to Lorraine overpopulating the backyard with her garden and horrible smelling manure, and fires being started by the little kids for fun, Mikey can never say it’s a dull moment on Sunnyside Ave.

“…and what did you do?” Mikey questioned, his lips twisting at the corners, knowing he wasn’t the best influence, especially if the shoe was on the other foot.

Which you knew, hanging out with him, Richie, and even Michelle always had the potential go left very quickly.

“There’s onion juice or some shit in my eye,” you start using your wrist to wipe at your red eye before saying, “and if I somehow end up blind before I get in to my eye doctor this year…it’s a wrap for her.”

“So you’re going in for the silent kill?” Michael summarizes, “that leaves the creeper to me then, is he home? I’d love to have a talk with ‘em!”

He points towards the back door which leads out to the courtyard. You leap forward, latching onto Michael’s wrist, “which I’m sure you’ll get your chance but I see you bought something for me?”

Michael rolls his eyes as he glanced back at the counter that contained a bag, “you’re real observant aren’t ya?”

“I’m also hungry but I need to get this stench off me first.” You slap your hands beside your thighs.

He jokingly steps forward to take a whiff towards you, “…I wasn’t going to say anything but whew!”

“Shut up, Mikey!” You shove him back but he just laughs.

Mikey pinches a piece of your hair on your way by, pulling something from it, “looks like she got you good with some shallot skin and soil if you ask me! But I got a nice Cubano waiting for ya when you get out.”

Your mouth watered at the mention of your favorite sandwich Mikey always brought over to you every other Tuesday, “can’t wait for that baby to bring me the biggest serotonin.”

Mikey grins at you.

When you drag your eyes back to meet his you ask, “so how was your day, bub? Good?”

“Yeah! I think it’s going to be alright.”

You hold your hand out, “tell me about it?”

He takes your hand as you lead him to the bathroom. He sits on the toilet as you quickly get into your skincare, terrified of skin mites thanks to some shit Sugar sent to a group chat between you, her, and Michelle. Michael doesn’t mind watching you do your routine, falling into quiet chatter before you strip out of your clothes.

He tries not to let his stare linger but he always thought you were a goddess, even with your clothes on. The comfortability between you two was strong, that at times it felt like there was nothing to ever be afraid of, especially when it came to showing your most vulnerable selves to each other. It’s not long before he’s joining you behind the shower liner, helping each other clean away whatever the day held before you’re embracing each other, arms tucked underneath each others as your now loud conversation fights against the pressure from the shower head.

He tells you all about the possible new hire, her name being Tina and how he feels like she’ll be the one to keep Chicagoland on their toes and in shape. He’s got that spark in his eye when he talks about her, finding a connection and in hopes that she will turn up when she’s ready but he has no doubt that she will.

“Maybe you can call her for backup if you ever come face to face with string bean nose Lorraine.” Mikey jokes over the water.

You scoff, “if the garbage can actually hit me, Lorraine just might need to tap Tina in for her to get me off her ass!”

Mikey chuckles, leaning forward to place a kiss on your forehead before you tuck your head underneath his chin. If you could’ve, you would have held onto him for eternity.

But…that’s not the way life played out in later episodes.

When Tuesday’s hit, sometimes it still feels like he’s here around your condo trying to scare the shit out of your cat, when he’s the one who’s actually terrified of him. And when you catch yourself staring at Lorraine’s nose a little too long during your small morning chats before you’re both leaving for work—that’s right—you two are now cordial enough to have civilized conversations, and yes you had Michael Berzatto to thank for that.

For constantly seeing the best in everybody, even crazy gardening neighbors who loved composting and believing their son could do no wrong.

Who only knows what Mikey’s conversation with that kid was like. You had a feeling that Richie knew, there was a slim chance that Richie was his ride along when you were off at work or someplace else but Richie would always be Mikey’s keeper.

And you were fine with that, as long as you never saw a telescope again.

ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪

SUMMER ‘24 PROMPTS FIN. (For now!)

[thewulf]

My Queen || Aragorn

Summary: Request - Can I pleeeease send you an idea where he finds a girl in the woods, hurt and not conscious but he feels the need to help her and be close to her. So he takes care of her wounds till she wakes up and it's like true love at first sight for both of them... Read Rest Here

A/N: OH WOW, this got out of hand QUICK but I had SO MUCH FUNNNN writing this way! It was a challenge but it felt invigorating to write. I am obsessed with Aragorn and I just love him. Margot Robbie is so right for her cinematic crush! Thank you for the request anon, hope you love it :)

Pairing: Aragorn x Reader

Word Count: 10,000 +

TW: Violence, orc violence, poison, death, blood, crying, angst, lotr warnings, Aragorn being hot af

Just a few more stumbling steps. You could do it. Glancing down you grimaced at the crimson coated and tattered dress that you’d been wearing for the last five or so days. It used to be so gorgeous, a gift from the man you were meant to wed. Truly it was the only exquisite gift you’d ever received in your entirety. However now it looked as if it’d seen a thousand lives, just like the elves had. It bore this resemblance due to the attack on your home. You ran. Running far away from everything you knew. It was tough to grasp just how much you’d been through in the five days since you had to flee your small village just outside of Eriador.

You’d had a good life. Good but rather simple. Almost too simple for your taste. You were engaged to be wed to the local jewelers son at your father’s doing. He had assured you over and over again that going through with the wedding would lead you to a life that he could not provide you. A life you were destined for. Your mother, Valar rest her soul, had been killed a few years prior in an attack on your village leaving you with your father and a small place to live. But it was home.

The local jeweler boy, Newall, had asked you to take a walk around the village right before the tragic events occurred. One moment you were giving him your kindest smile. The next he pushed you into the woods after hearing the screaming coming from the village center. Not making your most brilliant decision you decided to follow behind him only to come to the horrifying realization that your seemingly insignificant village was being brutalized by Orc’s. You stood there frozen in fear as you witnessed men, women and children being slain as if they meant nothing. 

It was only when you came face to face with one that you realized how much trouble you were in. Valar save you. He must’ve listened because the Orc simply look at you, growled and pushed you into the side of the house you were standing next to. But then it dawned on you that he wasn’t done. The creature walked to you terrifyingly slow, standing over you before driving it’s sword into your side. Before you could even yelp out in pain the orc vanished leaving you to die presumably. But it was a shallow wound. It didn’t seem like it was trying to do too much damage. Orcs knew one thing, killing. It was odd that one would have spared you.

When you finally came back to the reality of the situation you knew you had to go. Run to Bree. Your dad always instructed that’s where you needed to go. You had an uncle up there that could look after you. Deciding not to waste another second you rushed inside the house grabbing whatever clothing you could find. Tying a pair of Newall’s pants around your waste to hopefully stop the bleeding you only grabbed a little bit of food before you made for the forest. You’d have to find something along the way. The trek to Bree would take nearly a month on foot.

Using the stars as guidance you moved through the forest you knew very well. It started out fine. You were trained to do just this. Your father had made sure of it. What you hadn’t considered was the poison from the orc blade that was slowly taking its toll on your body. It was the fourth night that you realized you were in serious trouble. On the fifth day you decided you weren’t going to be able to go any further. No wonder the Orc didn’t just kill you there. He left you to suffer. What a vile creation. 

It didn’t take you long to decide on where you wanted to die. You found a nice tree under the shade of the leaved with a comfortable base. You were just going to go to sleep and hopefully never wake up. Hopefully the poison would just do what it wanted to and let you finally go. 

That did not happen though. You felt a light kick on your boot forcing your eyes to open. What you weren’t expecting was a rather handsome looking ranger with ice blue eyes to be staring right at you. Considering what to do.

“Miss,” He knelt down after whispering something to his horse, “Are you injured?” His surprisingly concerned eyes spotted the blood that coated your worn-down dress.

Taking a long breath, you mustered enough strength to answer the stranger, “Yea, Master Ranger.” You let your head lean back on the trunk of the tree relieving the strain it seemed to put on year mere consciousness.

“Forgive me, but you do not look it miss.” His head was level with yours as he moved closer to you. He didn’t dare touch you without your permission, but he wanted too, you were not all right like you so miserably tried to convince him.

A shallow breath escaped you, “I fear I have been stabbed by an Orc blade Ranger. I do not have much longer.” Your eyes flicked away from his in a pathetic attempt to rid him of the conversation. He would have no such thing though. Leave a fair maiden to perish on her own? Not on his accord.

“Strider.” He corrected you. It wasn’t often he’d give out his Ranger known name to strangers, but you seemed harmless enough. What could a human woman such as yourself have done to deserve such a fate he wondered before continuing on, “We are but a half days journey to a small town called Sarn Ford. Have you heard of it miss?” He asked in hopes of seeing your eyes open once more.

You did as he wished and looked at him again, “Sarn Ford? Oh dear. I’ve gone the wrong direction.” You grimaced in pain as you tried to sit up higher on the tree trunk.

“Where are traveling to miss? On your own?” He held out an open hand for you to take. He left the decision on if you’d accept the help up to you.

Eyeing his hand, you knew he was prying. But he seemed trustworthy. The Rangers of the North were meant to be. Strider as he called himself. Your eyes met his again and you caved right then and there. He looked genuine, like he thought he could actually help you. Like you were not too far gone. With all the strength you could muster in your quickly fading body you put your hand in his, “Aye. My village was attacked by orcs. Third time in the last five years. They got me this time.” You sighed trying your hardest to stay conscious, “I was meant to travel to Bree. But I must have taken to the wrong direction. I will be blaming the Orc poison for the misdirection.” You let out a pained laugh trying to lighten the tone of the conversation going on between the two of you.

“All right. Off we go. What is your name?” He asked you needing to know to continue.

He watched you intently sputter out the words you were trying to get out. His fear of orc poison was right, you truly did not have that much time left. With your permission he scooped you up in his arms, called his horse over and positioned you in front of him while he rode. He knew you did not have enough strength to hold on from behind. He knew It would be a challenge to keep you upright on the journey back to Sarn Ford. He was meeting Gandalf there, anyway, might as well help the woman who he had taken a fast liking towards. Even Strider could see the beauty in things, and you were mighty beautiful in his eyes. Even coated in layers of dirt and grime he knew you shined like a star above him.

“Y/N.” You admitted to the man not feeling up to lying to him. You would likely be dead before dawn anyway. You would have hoped he would find a way to let anybody surviving know of your unfortunate fate. But in reality you were just another causality of war. A human life cut far too short.

“Lovely name.” He smiled lowly as he held you into him. He could feel you were fading in and out of consciousness as he held onto your waist tightly.

You hummed in thanks not having the strength to reply to him.

“Hold on miss Y/N. We will be there soon.” He spoke into your ear startling you back onto the middle earth side of consciousness.

But as much as he tried you had succumbed to your own fate. Blackness took over before you reached the village of Sarn Ford.

Much to your own surprise your eyes opened once more. You peaked around seeing all sorts of supplies. You must have been in some sort of healers room you concluded quickly. Looking down you were not in your attire you had been found in but a simple dress that you were more accustomed too. Being so caught up in your own accord you had yet to see the two men. Well one man and one wizard standing off to the side conversing as you came back to reality.

“Welcome young one.” The wizard spoke. You had never seen one before. Thought they were the thing of legends. But sure, as it would be one stood before you. They were easy to spot. Had an aura about them.

Your eyes snapped back to Striders looking at him in surprise. He was more handsome than you remembered as the sun beat down on his features through the window in the hut you were in, “It is all right.” He nodded at you, “This is Gandalf the Grey, he is an old friend of mine.”

“Hello Gandalf.” You broke your eyes away from the stranger your somewhat knew and turned your head towards the wizard.

“How are you fairing?” He asked whilst leaning onto his cane.

“Fine now. Thank you.” You turned toward Strider who made his way closer, “Thank you Strider. For without you I fear I may have been dead by now.” A shiver of realization ripped down your spine as you admitted it out loud.

He bowed his head, “I am honored to have been of service miss Y/N.” You looked over to him giving him a bashful smile. He was really so handsome. More handsome than any of the boys or men in your small village.

“Are you well enough to travel?” Gandalf asked breaking the trance the two of you had been locked in for a moment too long to be just friendly glances. Gandalf was considered wise for a reason. He had an inkling feeling there was something budding between his usually broody friend and the pretty human girl he had found in the woods. Maybe you were his gift from Valar. Every great leader needed one. Who was Gandalf to question the gods.

“I believe so.” You sat you wincing only slightly as the wound in your side. Strider wanted nothing more than to push you back down and curse the wizard who suggested you move so soon.

“Miss Y/N. You need to rest a little longer.” He insisted placing a gentle hand on your shoulder preventing you from standing.

Gandalf grumbled, “You must get to the Prancing Pony Inn. I’m going to meet Frodo now. Time is of the essence Aragorn.”

Your eyes crumbled in confusion. Who was Aragorn?

He did not leave you time to question as he grabbed at your hand, “Come miss Y/N. We have a ride to take.”

You sat at the bar table with Strider who had hood of his robe covering his face. You grew more uneasy as the night wore on at the Prancing Pony. The horse ride was quick thankfully. And much to your delight the Hobbits Gandalf was speaking of finally appeared. Right on time.

Strider shot up from his seat, “Wait here miss Y/N. I must save the Hobbit.” He sighed before bounding off into the depths of the bar. You felt even more uneasy as the eyes around you made their way to your shaking frame. You were nervous.

After far too many moments alone he grabbed you by your arms, “Come Y/N. We must hide.” He directed you to another room than the ones you had planned on staying in.

“Strider?” You asked following him up a set of stairs you were unfamiliar with.

“Nazgul. I’ll explain later. For now, you must sleep. We have a long journey to Rivendell. Especially with the Hobbits.” He let a long breath while opening the door for you. Quickly, you were attacked by questions from the four little Hobbits. Happily, though you answered every single one before lying next to Strider who promised to keep watch.

“You should get some rest too.” You whispered hoping not to wake the sleeping Hobbits.

He nodded, “I shall. In due time. I fear we have something coming.”

Your frown was evident as he continued to try and comfort you, “Do not fret. I am keeping watch for a reason. We are safe.”

“I believe you Strider.” You yawned not being able to keep the tiredness away for much longer.

“Rest.” He commanded.

You were far too tired to argue that as the darkness crept in.

You were woken when the screeching next door commenced. The Hobbits must’ve had more sensitive ears as they were already up and staring at Strider who looked glum.

“What are they?” Frodo asked.

He sat at the window looking at the five of you, “They were once men. Great kings of men. The Sauron the Deceiver gave to them nine rings of power.” You felt a shiver ripple across your body. You’d heard the legends and did not believe those either. Yet again, another thing coming true right before your eyes.

“We must move.” He commented seeing the Nazgul retreating away from the inn.

You must have walked for miles until Strider had the five of you rest at the old watchtower of Amon Sul. You stood there behind the Hobbits staring up the decaying rock structure before you. It must have been grand in its time.

Once you were seated next to the Hobbits he stood and tossed each of you a weapon, “These are for you. Keep them close. I’m going to have a look around. Miss Y/N, will this blade be too large for you?” He handed you a smaller sword for you to try.

“I fear you have too much faith in me Strider.” You unsheathed the sword holding onto it carefully, “But this will work.” You nodded towards him.

“You shall not have to use it. In case only.” He pointed at each of you, “I will be back. Rest. Make no noise or sound.” His command was easy to follow. A natural born leader it seemed.

You woke when you heard Frodo yelling from beside you, “What are you doing?” He yelled a little too loud. You rose from the ground you had managed to sleep on and watched the interaction unfold. You cursed when you saw the fire going. He had not explicitly said no fires, but the intention was there.

“Put it out you fools!” Frodo cried. You rose from your slumber and haphazardly helped him put it out.

The horrifying cry you heard from the Nazgul the night before rang out from outside the watch tower.

“Oh no.” You spotted them coming towards you, “No Strider?” You turned to Frodo with a horrifying realization.

He shook his head, “Go! Up!” You followed the Hobbits to the top of the tower and waited. You shivered when you saw them come from the shadows. You heard nothing but your hammering heart in your chest. This was it. This could be the end. You sword was shaking in your hand.

“Back you devils!” Sam screamed trying to shield them off. You blocked a shot but was stopped when Frodo pulled the ring out. You gasped when they all ran from him. To your horror when he put the ring on he disappeared.

Strider came out of nowhere blocking back the Nazgul from all of you. You ran to Frodo in horror seeing the man defend the five of you with ease. A few of them went up in flames as kept fighting them off. They had enough when he got another went up and flames and ran off. Strider quickly came over to the five of you surrounding Frodo. You had your hand on his horrifyingly black wound. You’d never seen poison like that before.

“Help him Strider!” You cried in a shaky voice once he kneeled down next to you.

He picked the sword up shaking his head slowly, “He’s been stabbed by a Morgul blade.” The blade vanished in his hand as Frodo writhed beneath you, “This is beyond my skill to heal. He needs Elvish medicine.”

You looked down at the Hobbit in pain and let a single tear fall, “We will get you the help you need mister Frodo. Rest assured.” He picked the Hobbit up and began running, “Let us go.”

The four of you trailed Strider in a daze. The Nazgul screams seemed to ring out from every direction as you ran, “Hurry!” he shouted at the four of you with Frodo crying in his arms.

“We are six days from Rivendell! He will never make it!” Sam cried sending a shuddering realization through you.

You simply heard a faint whisper come from Strider ahead of you, “Hold on, Frodo.” From Strider who kept running and did not acknowledge Sam. As tired as you were you had to keep moving for Frodo’s sake. You ran and ran until you could no more and then you ran some more.

He only stopped when he ran into three petrified trolls. He set Frodo down looking around frantically. You and Sam went over to look after him. Same placed a gentle hand to the despondent Hobbit.

Sam shuddered at the touch, “Mr. Frodo! He’s going cold.”

“Is he going to die?” Pippen chimed in. You stood back looking over the shivering Hobbit who long since stopped crying out in pain.

Strider turned to the five of you with a concerned look crossing over his features, “He’s passing into the Shadow World. He’ll soon become a Wraith like them.” He stated so calmly. Your face grimaced at the horrifying realization. Frodo becoming a Nazgul?

Strider continued, “Sam, do you know the Athlelas plant?” You listened in but bent down to hold Frodo’s hand hoping some comfort would help the gasping Hobbit. His eyes were glazing over with something of a blue sheen that sent shivers down your body.

“Athelas?” Sam asked confused by the question.

“Kingsfoil.” Strider tried a different name.

Sam nodded, “Kingsfoil, aye, it’s a weed!”

“It may help the poisoning. Hurry!” He pushed the Hobbit off, “Miss Y/N. Stay with Frodo. We will be back with help.” You nodded holding onto his hand dearly.

Not a few moments later you saw the help arriving. A beautiful elf strode over and down to the quickly fading Hobbit. You took a step back as she took a step towards him. You gaped at the beauty that she was leaning down to your newfound friend. An elf in real life. She was beyond your wildest imagination. You had been told of their beauty, but this was bordering on ethereal.

“I am Arwen. I have come to help you.” She whispered into his ear, “Hear my voice. Come back to the light.” She grabbed at his hand while Strider handed her the plant.

“Who is she?” Merry asked quietly as Frodo was tended to.

“Arwen, an elf.” You whispered repeating what you heard her speak to Frodo not seconds ago, “She’s going to save him.” You said out loud to convince yourself more so than the group of Hobbits.

“Frodo,” She whispered, “He’s fading.” She sounded concerned as she looked over to Strider, “He’s not going to last. We must get him to my father.” The two of them stood as Strider grabbed at Frodo, “I’ve been looking for you for two days.” She said to Strider. You watched as the scene unfolded before you not wanting to get in the way of whatever was occurring.

“Where are you taking him?” Sam asked confused and terribly concerned for his friend.

He was ignored as Arwen continued, “There are five Wraiths behind you. Where the other four are, I do not know.” You watched as Strider put Frodo onto the horse with ease.

Suddenly Strider started talking in what you assumed to be Sindarin as you could not understand what they were saying. They must have agreed upon something as Arwen hopped onto the horse and took off with Frodo. Your mind was sent into a spiral as you guessed where he was going and off so quickly.

“She is taking him to Rivendell. To Lord Elrond for him to be healed. She is the faster rider and will get him there sooner. Come, we must go.” He motioned for the group to keep moving, “Miss Y/N, will you walk with me?”

You nodded speeding up your pace to match his, “Master Strider.”

“Strider is fine.” He hummed as he led the group out of the forest somehow knowing exactly where to go.

“Is he going to make it?” You had to ask him. The thought of his passing was eating at you.

He nodded, “His best chance is with Arwen. The sooner we get to Rivendell the sooner we will find out.”

“Well then let us speed up our pace then.” You smiled up at him.

He chucked and nodded. The two of you walked in a comfortable silence as you occasionally made sure the chatty Hobbits behind you were faring all right.

“She is pretty.” You spoke after a while of not being able to get Arwen’s face out of your mind.

“Arwen?” He questioned you giving you a curious once over seeing that the statement seemingly came out of nowhere.

“Aye. She is beautiful.”

“She is. Most elves are.” He agreed with you, “She is wed to another healer. Her father set the marriage up ages ago before you great great grandmother was even a thought.”

“Oh, to have the lifespan of an elf!” You laughed feeling the weight of whatever tension you were holding onto about Arwen be lifted.

“I bet it is not all that it seems to be.” You nodded as the two of you continued on the trek to Rivendell occasionally chatting about random things back and forth. You were so caught up in him you failed to notice the Hobbits watching the two you of converse the entire journey back as if you were already a married couple just strolling the lands.

“Welcome to Rivendell miss Y/N.” Aragorn smiled when he saw your gaping face taking in all the scenery stretching beyond your wildest imagination. He too was struck in awe by its beauty the first time he had come across it all those years ago.

“This cannot be real.” You gasped as he took your hand, pulling you along to look along the city.

“Aye. It is. Come, I want to show you your living quarters for the time being.” He pulled you along knowing exactly where to go in Lord Elrond’s castle. He stopped in what you assumed to be the center seeing two people walking towards the two of you. The wizard and a dark-haired elf stopped just short of you.

“Ah, welcome young one.” Gandalf walked up with who you assumed to be Lord Elrond, “It is wonderful to see you in one piece. Unlike our young Frodo.” He chuckled not realizing what he had said sounded bad without knowing how he was.

Your face dropped, “Oh no, did he not make it?”

Gandalf shook his head hastily in realization of his error, “He is fine young one. A few more hours and he would not have made it.” Gandalf stepped forward, placing a hand on your shoulder in reassurance, “Aragorn here will show you to your chambers.”

You cocked your head to the side, “Aragorn? You said that back in Sarn Ford as well. Who is Aragorn?” This really was not your place to speak in front of so many important people. But you were always a curious one, so you had to ask. The worst they could do is refuse to elaborate any further and you would not press. You did understand boundaries even if you pushed them.

Strider looked at Gandalf with a question in his gaze. Gandalf always had a plan. He could see the feelings bubbling to the surface for Aragorn for his newfound human companion that had to be a gift from Valar himself. Gandalf knew the longer he kept his identity from you the harder the breach of trust would befall the two of you.

Gandalf nodded giving his friend a push towards you. He knew Aragorn had to admit this to you himself. You saw Lord Elrond cock his head in confusion watching the interaction go down. He must not have been privy to what had been going down in Gandalf’s mind.

“Ah, miss Y/N. Strider is my Ranger name. It is my identity. As is Aragorn. Son of Arathorn.” He spoke slowly watching as your face twisted from confusion to realization. You may have been from Eriabor, but you surely knew who Arathorn was.

He continued, “I am also called Elessar, the Elfstone, Dúnadan, the heir of Isildur Elendil's son of Gondor."

“A rightful King?” You asked him with widened eyes. You had no clue that you had been traveling with such a company. You had been so crass it made you want to run away right then and there, especially with Gandalf and Lord Elrond’s amused gazes watching the interaction between two humans.

He nodded, “You are correct.”

“Aragorn.” You spoke for the first time giving him a wide smile, “I do like it. It suits a King such as yourself. Would you mind if I continued to call you Strider though?” Bowing your head slightly you felt a rush of embarrassment pulsate through you. Why were you so unladylike? It was all so thoughtless when he was just a Ranger. Not a bloody King of Gondor.

He waited until your eyes met his again, “No need to bow miss Y/N. And thank you. You may call me either.”

A quick head nod was interrupted by Gandalf, “We must be off. Aragorn drop the young one off at her residence. You are free to explore the castle and Rivendell. But we will need you to meet us in the gardens. We have much to discuss before the Council of Elrond shows up in a few days.” Gandalf spoke directly to Strider who just nodded in agreement.

“Come miss Y/N.” He took your hand and pulled you along quickly, “You will enjoy your stay here. It is a wonderful place. There is quite a bit to do, and the elves are very kind.” He tried his best to reassure you knowing that Gandalf was right. You could not go on. You were not prepared for this kind of journey to any extent. Gandalf also revealed of Aragorn’s known feelings for you. You would be a distraction he could not have along the journey.

“It seems like it.” You grinned thankful you were able to do your own thing for the afternoon. You felt bad for Strider or Aragorn. He seemed to have quite a bit of business to attend to.

He stopped at a door letting you inside. It was small but quant and rather extravagant. Fine details laced every surface. You’d come to expect nothing less from the elves, “I will find you later. Enjoy your day miss Y/N.”

The days went by slowly as you got acquainted with Rivendell. You had the sneaking suspicion your journey was also stopping as Strider was not so keen on giving you any information even though he was gone for days on end.

It was on the day of the gathering of the Council of Elrond that you had all but given up. That was until there was a rapid knocking at your door. Thankfully your elf maiden Nimloth had made sure you were dressed as Strider stood before you with a smile on his face, “Come miss Y/N. The Council of Elrond is starting soon.”

“I am invited?” You were sure there was a dumb look on your face.

He nodded slowly, “Gandalf insisted. Lord Elrond relented.”

You followed him in silence to the gathering of the council. You sat behind Frodo closer to Lord Elrond and away from all of the action that was sure to go down.

It was not long after you took a seat that Lord Elrond stood gathering the council to begin, “Strangers from distant lands, friends of old and new,” His eyes met yours giving you a small wink before continuing on, “You’ve been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite, or you will fail. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom. Bring forth the ring, Frodo.” A shiver ran down your spine at his straight to the point opening. This was not good.

You watched as Frodo stood and dropped the ring on the stump in the middle of the council.

You heard the man called Boromir speak up, “So it is true.” He looked at the ring with something of desire lacing it. You looked at Strider who was watching the man skeptically. He continued, “The doom of man. It is a gift.” Your heart raced at such a senseless statement. You watched as Strider grew angry at his arrogance.

Nevertheless, Boromir continued, “A gift of the foes of Mordor. Why not use this Ring? Long has my father the Steward of Gondor kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against them.” He passionately spoke hoping to gain the agreement of the Council.

But Strider would have none of that false speak, “You cannot wield it. None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master.” Your heart rate sped down at the sensible statement to the man you had grown quite fond of in your week or so of traveling. You had grown a strong liking to the handsome Ranger who saved your life without a second thought.

Boromir looked skeptically at Strider, “And what would a Ranger know of this matter?” He asked with a smug look to his face. You wanted to slap that look right off of his face for he had no clue who he was talking to! A king!

But the elf called Legolas stood quickly in his defense, “This is no mere Ranger. He is Aragorn, Son of Arathon.” You watched as his face scrunched up in a minor irritation. He had tried so hard to keep that a secret and now it was out, “You owe him your allegiance.” He finished looking just as irritated as Strider did. It still felt weird to call him Aragorn. So, you kept up with Strider.

Boromir turned back to him, “Aragorn.” He spoke with a hint of shock in his tone, “This is Isildur’s heir?”

“An heir to the throne of Gondor.” Legolas spoke earning a glare from Strider who spoke to him in Elvish quickly. You wondered what he said because Boromir looked suddenly very angry.

Boromir nearly spat with vengeance while looking at the blond elf, “Gondor has no king.” He turned to look back at Strider and shook his head, “Gondor needs no king.”

Gandalf spoke up breaking the tension among men, “Aragorn is right. We cannot use it.”

Lord Elrond stood, “You have only one choice. The Ring must be destroyed.”

The dwarf called Gimli stood then, “What are we waiting for?” He grabbed his axe and sliced at it in attempt to shatter it. Of course, that did nothing but startle the entire council into submission.

“The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin... by any craft that we here possess. The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade.” Lord Elrond spoke matter of factly. You watched as Frodo nearly collapsed from the pain and realization. You laid a gentle hand on his shoulder hoping he would find some solace in the touch.

Lord Elrond continued, “It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came.” Your heart was hammering in your chest at the realization. This would be no easy task for anybody let alone a Hobbit and human group, “One of you, must do this.” Lord Elrond commanded sending your head into so many different directions. Would Strider go? Would the Hobbits? Surely you would never be able to go. No, Strider would never allow it. He had made that very clear.

Boromir sighed, “One does not simply walk into Mordor. It’s Black Gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. The Great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland riddled with fire, and ash, and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with 10,000 men could you do this. It is folly.”

Legolas was angry now. He shot up from his seat spitting his words at the man, “Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed.”

Gimli spoke up next, “And I suppose you think you are the one to do it!” The tension grew in the air as everyone began to feel uneasy of the task at hand.

Boromir stood next, “And if we fail, what then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?”

Gimli continued, “I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!” He shouted. Your eyes went wide as everything seemed to be going away from the goal at hand, “Never trust an Elf!”

The group erupted in bickering as you and Frodo sat back in fear of what was going to happen. All but suddenly you watched as Frodo stood. He shouted, “I will take it.” It took him a few attempts before the group heard him.

“I will take the Ring to Mordor.” He said again once everyone had quieted down. You gulped as you watched the scene unfold.

He spoke again, “Though, I do not know the way.”

Gandalf nodded, “I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins as long as it is yours to bear.”

You sat further back into your chair as you watched Strider stand, “If by my life or death I can protect you I will.” Your heart sunk at his words. He caught your forlorn gaze and gave you a simple smile. He walked to Frodo and knelt before the small Hobbit, “You have my sword.”

Legolas stepped forward, “And you have my bow.” Your heart raced seeing the elf walk forward. Thank goodness he volunteered. You had heard stories of the mighty elf warrior of Mirkwood.

“And my ax.” Gimli agreed as he walked towards the growing group. You stood from your spot away from the group, closer towards Lord Elrond. Almost as if you had already known your assigned fate.

Boromir joined slowly, “You carry the fates of us all, little one. If this is indeed the will of the Council then Gondor will see it done.” He stood by the group.

Suddenly the other hobbits joined in earning a hard-earned smile from Lord Elrond.

“Nine companions. So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring.” You watched as Elrond anointed the group complete. Your downcast eyes found Striders who looked at you with all the care in the world. You were more than nervous for the man you had grown so fond of so quickly. Dare you say you might actually have real genuine feelings for the man standing in the group of nine.

“The journey is no place for a lady.” Strider insisted as he pulled you away from the fellowship. He had conjured up a hundred scenarios in his mind and decided you could not come after seeking the guidance of Gandalf. It was far too dangerous for someone as delicate as you were. He shuddered at the thought of seeing you with a sword far too big for you trying your best to defend not only yourself but the Hobbits from the Nazgul. He never wanted to see or put you in such a situation as that ever again.

Your look broke his heart ten times over. It is not like he wanted to leave you in Rivendell with the elves. He would do anything to take you, but it was just far too dangerous. The encounter with the Nazgul did it in enough for him to hold firm on the decision, “I’m not a lady Aragorn, and you know it! But I understand.” You countered but admitted your faults. You were nothing but a lowly peasant from a tiny village near Eriador. You didn’t mean much to middle earth, a place holder for whatever Valar had planned.

He twisted his head to the side giving you a once over and a sly smile, “Not yet anyway.” He walked towards you, stopping right in front of you. Wanting to say the next word so all the elves and Hobbits behind him couldn’t hear. Having to turn your head up to make eye contact he leaned forward and whispered in your ear, “I have every intention of making you one, my lady.”

Your eyes growing wide and the rosiness that formed on your neck and cheeks made the elves behind him laugh in unison amongst themselves. You noticed the confusion lining the Hobbits faces, no doubt wonder what he had said to you to illicit such a reaction.

You looked back to him with the hint of smile dancing on your lips, “They can hear you Strider.”

He brushed the pads of his fingers along your jawline, “Let them.” He had yet to be so forthcoming with his feelings so far. Sure, you had only known him a little over a week but you had not left his side since you met him. It had already felt so long ago. And when the heart knew it knew. It knew it had feelings for the handsome man with the most beautiful blue eyes that looked at you so kindly standing before you.

“Please be safe.” Your eyes welled with unshed tears as you accepted his command. You could not go along with them. You’d be nothing but the burden you so desperately wanted to avoid. But you also did not want to stay in Rivendell. The elves seemed welcoming enough but who knew how long he would have to be gone. You would surely overstay your welcome.

A curt nod came from the man you’d grown to love in such a short amount of time, “As you wish.” He moved his fingers to your eyes brushing away the tears that had managed to spill over, “Do not cry. I will be back as soon as I can.” The moment felt far too intimate to have the whole company trying not to watching but paying close attention anyway, they were not being sly about like they thought they were. They had all grown to adore you in some capacity, more some than others. Pippen was especially sad your journey had ended there. He had quite enjoyed getting to know you along the short trek from The Shire to Rivendell. You were unlike any other mortal he had met.

“I know. But you will find me in Bree.” You answered him letting the tears fall even as you tried your best to stop them.

He shook his head quickly, “No, you will stay here. In Rivendell. You will be protected here. Lord Elrond has assured me of that.” That sounded more like Aragorn than the Strider you knew. It hit you that the rightful King of Gondor was standing right in front of you. No wonder he had seemed so effortless in leading the group to Rivendell. It was in his blood.

“I do not belong here Aragorn.” You spoke in a plea muttering his actual name for just the second time. It still felt foreign, but you welcomed it on your tongue. Aragon, King of Gondor.

His eyes piqued up in utter curiosity at the sudden name change. You had seemed so adamant on continuing to call him by his Ranger name despite finding his true identity through Gandalf, “You can find an identity here my lady. Lord Elrond will not let that falter. Do you not believe me?” He frowned not enjoying seeing you in such a distressed state. He too had grown to have deep feelings for you. You were kind and compassionate. Smarter than you knew. Made him smile more than he ever had in his life in the short time he had known you. You kept him on his toes, and he adored that about you. He grew to like maybe even love you in mere days.

“I am a burden here. Useless. They will get sick of me.” You were pleading to him now. If you knew better you would not be pushing somebody of such high stature.

He gulped not knowing what to say. He could pick up on your stress through your expression and the way you picked at your fingernails. A habit he’d seen both at the Inn and when the group was attacked by the Nazgul. Just as he was about to open his mouth he heard Elrond from behind him. And bless him he thought for he had no idea how to calm your racing mind.

“Have you not enjoyed your stay here at Rivendell? Do you not wish to stay?” Lord Elrond spoke up after hearing the concerns you had spoken in private to Aragorn. He knew he likely should have just stayed quiet and let Aragorn handle the situation. But his overly sensitive ears could pick up the frantic panic in your voice towards the man.

You shook your head quickly, “No my lord. I wish to not be a burden to your home. You see I… I do not have much to offer your city.” You hung your head in shame hoping you did not fully insult Elrond. He had already been so kind to you.

“A burden?” He shook his head walking over to the two of you. All eyes still watching the interaction with the utmost curiosity, “You would hardly be a burden. I will be honest with you. With many of the elves planning to take to the sea I will need some help preparing. You will have a place here. Rest assured.”

A small sigh let out from your chest. Aragorn watched you intently with a bright smile on his face seeing the Elf relax your mind in mere moments. Leave it to Elrond to calm you down so easily. He needed to take a page or two from his book.

“Are you sure Lord Elrond?” You asked timidly to the much, much taller elf. Why’d they have to be so beautiful and intimidating at the same time?

He gave you a quick nod before turning, “I have already made up my mind child. Now let us go. The Fellowship has much planning to do before they are off in a few days.” He motioned for you to follow him.

You turned back to Aragorn before you left, “I wish you luck. I will see you soon. Be safe.” Taking a risk, you grabbed for his hand giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Anything for you my lady.” You caught the brief wink he had given you before bowing his head.

You walked over to the rest of the group, “I wish you all nothing but the best. Please take care of each other. I want to see you all when this is over. Yea?” Your voice broke at the end.

The Hobbits crowded around you giving you one last hug, “We will take your word to heart Lady Y/N.” Pippen smiled as he hugged your side.

“I am no lady.” You laughed once more. Where had they all gotten this ridiculous notion from?

“That’s not what Legolas told us.” Frodo smirked while looking over at Aragorn was deep in conversation with Boromir not paying a lick of attention to the goodbyes you were giving. It hurt him just as much as it was hurting you so he distracted himself with the other man in the Fellowship.

Your eyes found the blonde elf who attempted to feign innocence for the second time that afternoon, “You are a rightful menace Legolas.” You muttered to him almost finding enjoyment out of his butting in.

He shrugged innocently, “I am not sure what you are talking about Lady Y/N.”

You smiled shaking your head while giving each Hobbit a quick squeeze, “Good luck Legolas. Please watch out for him?” Your request may have been too much for the elf and you knew it. A big ask that you would have never of done had you not fallen for him so quickly.

But he agreed, “You have my word, my lady.” He smirked sensing your aversion to the formality you so desperately tried to avoid.

A quick shake of the head and you went off to follow Elrond you was waiting for you patiently in the distance, “I will see you all soon.” You waved, not waiting for their response as it felt to be too much in the moment. It amazed you

“Thank you for your hospitality Lord Elrond.” You said quickly once you caught up to the dark-haired elf.

He gave you what you was sure was a genuine smile, “It brings me a great pleasure to host you Lady Y/N.”

Your mouth gaped, “Is he forcing you to say that?” Surely you were going to have to get used to the title if Elrond had agreed to it. It would be shameful to try and correct the ruler of the land. Even you had some semblance of sanity and preservation.

Elrond shook his head quickly. He gave you a serious expression, one that you were not used to seeing from elf, “Aragorn is the rightful heir to the Throne of Gondor. We recognize the title here in Rivendell. I respect what he wishes. If he has given you that title you should wear that as a badge of honor.”

“You think so?” You thought you might have been pressing your luck with the lord. But he had the patience of somebody you had never met before. He was like no human you knew even if he was half of it.

If he was offended at your questioning he hid it well. A small smile adorned his features as he led you down the path to an empty room in the castle he had placed you in earlier, “I know so. When you have been around as long as I. You tend to notice these small things.”

He stopped in front of a door you had not been privy too in your prior explorations, “Your quarters for the time being. I had Nimloth move your belongings from your previous room to here. I suspect you will find it adequate.”

Your eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets when he opened the massive wood doors. The most intricate carvings of wood was placated on every surface of the room. The detail and craftsmanship was beyond anything you had seen in your tiny little village. You ran your fingers along the different sets of furniture admiring the fine detail that was crafted into every surface, “More than adequate Lord Elrond. Thank Nimloth for me?” You asked after finding all your belongings neatly put away.

He bowed to you. An elf bowed to you! What had this life become? Once so lost now you were somebody a lord found pleasure in conversing with.

“I will see to it. She will fetch you for dinner as well. Welcome to Rivendell.” Without waiting for a response, he shut the doors behind him letting you be with your thoughts. And oh, were they racing beyond your wildest measure.

It had been 414 days since Aragorn and the Fellowship had set out to destroy the ring. You refused to give up any sort of hope as you heard bits and pieces of information from Lord Elrond. You had grown close to elf in your stay at Rivendell. He had given you sage life advice time and time again. You were there for him when Arwen and his sons went off to sea not to be seen again until he were to take his trip. You knew he was utterly lonely and wanting nothing more than to go be with his wife and children. But he had a duty to middle earth that he would see too. He would see that the age of man had a true leader in Aragorn to guide peace and prosperity forward. He knew the age of elf was done and good. Frodo just had to finish it by destroying the ring.

You were sitting in the study reading a text in Sindarin, Lord Elrond had taught you enough of the language to get by, when you heard the doors to the study open with a loud thud. You set the text down on the desk as you peaked your head towards the door.

“Lady Y/N?” Lord Elrond’s voice called out.

You stood from your chair, “Yes my lord?” You caught him smiling ear to ear at the front of the study. A giddy feeling of shock shot throughout your body in anticipation for what might come next.

“They are back.”

You felt like your heart might have actually stopped beating there for a second, “Aragorn?” You asked breathlessly.

“Alive and well. Come.” He motioned you to follow him just like he had all those days ago when you first got to Rivendell.

When you spotted him out in the courtyard you did not give a second thought about being a lady anymore. You all out sprinted to the man who had consumed you whole in his time away. He wrapped you in his arms once you ran right into his chest. Letting out a small grunt from the impact he started laughing. A full-on belly laugh rang out from the man as he held you in his arms once more.

“You came back.” You felt the tears forming in your eyes as you buried yourself in his chest.

He held you in his arms as tightly as he could relishing in the moment of just being there with you, “I gave you my word, my lady. Did I not?” He pulled you back so he could look at you. Ethereal. Rivendell had been nothing but good to you he concluded. He would have to thank Lord Elrond for being so hospitable towards the one he had loved.

“You did. Thank you.” You grasped him a little tighter as he clinged onto you just the same.

You gasped opening the letter from the Shire, “Sam and Rose!” You ran over to Aragorn with a gleeful smile on your face, “Look, they are to be wed in six months! Long after you are crowned King. I would like to go.”

“Ahh, finally.” Aragorn grabbed the letter from your hand with a smile on his face. You admired him as he read the joyous news of the union. He was so handsome. And he was soon to be crowned King of Gondor, Gandalf had shared with the group the night they came back. He was due to be crowned in two months’ time in Minas Tirith. It gave time for all parties to travel to the desired destination to see the rightful heir be crowned king.

“I was worried he would never go for it. We shall go if you will have me?” Aragorn noted as he smoothed out the robes for tomorrow’s crowning. He had felt more nervous of the thought of proposing to you than he was about being crowned King. Valar calm his nerves.

“Aye. I would love to go with you Aragorn. But is that so? Had he been shy about her?” You asked your love that you were almost afraid to admit to.

He nodded recalling all the time Samwise made comments about the Hobbit he had loved from afar, “He was never the most risk adverse. I think the journey changed him.”

“Yea.” You nodded, “It was good for him.”

He nodded his head. His soft expression hardening just a tinge as he took you in, “You are so beautiful. When I did not think that I was going to make it… the thought of you kept me going. I am so honored to have you by my side.”

You leaned your head back into his chest letting the sun beat down on the two of you as he had helped you prepare for the journey to his rightful home. He had been to Minas Tirith many times before, but never as the King. He was overjoyed at the thought of bringing you to his home. He was not lying before when he promise to make you his lady. He was planning to wed to you not too long after he was crowned King.

“It is my honor Aragorn.” You felt him squeeze his hand along your waist.

He had taken you to his new home by horse. Just the two of you heading to his Kingdom. He wanted to spend the time with you and get to know you. And he was more than glad he did. He did not think it to be possible, but he had fallen more deeply in love with you on the month-long trek to Gondor. It had solidified what he had planned to do, propose to you as soon as he was crowned King. He had gotten Lord Elrond in on the plan as well. Surely, you would be more than irritated at the public display, but he knew you would soon get over it.

Your eyes lit up in amazement at the city that had spring up before you once you had finally made it after a little over a month on the road. It was more massive than even Rivendell had been. You had no idea such structures existed within the human world and was slightly ashamed you knew so little about your very own brethren.

“Welcome to Minas Tirith my lady.” A breathy whisper in your ear he watched below as you took in the city.

“This is… incredible Aragon.” Your eyes traveled everywhere in awe as he rode up the main street on his horse. You were pleasantly surprised at all the greetings even you were getting from all the citizens that resided within the city.

He led you straight to the castle at the center of the city knowing you were probably more than overwhelmed. Sure, he had warned you but actually seeing it and doing it was entirely different thing. He bowed to his guards as he made his way to his, and soon to be your, chambers.

“You will sleep here tonight.” He said matter of factly as you explored his chambers.

You shook your head, “I cannot. This is your room. You need to rest before tomorrow! You are being crowned King. That does not happen every day Aragorn.” You protested but he simply shook his head.

“It is all right.” He led you to his bed, “I insist my lady. I have made up my mind and you will not be able to change it.” He grinned beautifully as you sat down on the bed, accepting defeat so easily.

“So stubborn you are.”  You mused at him with a delighted look on your face. It felt like a step was being taken as he insisted you stay in his quarters. Protected by the best of the best. He saw you as nothing but precious to him.

He chucked softly, “I must leave you to it. Feel free to explore. One of the guards can show you around if you would like. I must see to a few things before tomorrow. I will see you after the ceremony?” He asked watching you carefully. He wanted you to be comfortable before he left you. He knew it would be tough to go a night without each other after spending so much alone for the better part of a month.

“All right.” You nodded quickly, “I will see you tomorrow, my King.” You grinned right back at him knowing you would never tire of calling him that. It was a far cry from the Strider you had met so long ago now.

He brushed his hand along your jaw. Giving you a brief bow, he spoke once more, “My lady.” Before walking out his chambers and leaving you too it. A wave of exhaustion coupled by the softness of the mattress below you sent you into a slumber much sooner than you were expecting. Maybe you would get the grand tour another time. For now, sleep overtook you..

You watched in awe as Gandalf crowned Aragorn with amazement in his own eyes. You had truly never seen anything so grandeur in your life. All this for your Aragorn. Yet, you felt he had deserved this and so much more.

“Now come the days of the King.” Gandalf’s voice boomed throughout Minas Tirith as thousands stood to watch Aragorn be crowned. You felt your eyes well up with proud tears as the crown laid atop his head. He was so striking. So Kingly. Your breath was taken away as he turned to the crowd. He was your King.

“This day does not belong to one man… but to all.” His voice now boomed filling your chest with the utmost pride for the man you loved, “Let us together rebuild this world… that we may share in the days of peace.” He smiled as the crowd erupted in cheers for their newly crowned King. You joined in happily clapping and cheering along with the city folk.

He sang as the flower petals began to fall. You watched as his company and all those around him bowed to him as he walked amongst the crowd. Your heart sped up rapidly as he was moving along closer, and closer to you.

Elrond pulled you back behind a shield at your protest as Legolas stepped forward. Being none the wiser you shot your elder a precarious look as he told you to be quiet and wait a second and you would see what was going on. He did not lie to you. Lord Elrond never did.

The elf beside you pulled the shield away leaving you staring right into the icy blue eyes of the man you had loved so dearly. You gulped but stepped towards him. He looked just as entranced as you felt.

Feeling overwhelmed at the entirely of the situation you bowed your head to your King once you were mere inches in front of him. Never before had so many eyes been on you. Yet he had made it feel like it really was just the two of you at that moment.

He would have none of that though. He took his hand under your chin and pulled it up, so you were looking at him. He too forgot that thousands of people were watching. It felt like it was just you and him. You had that effect on him. Your doe eyes staring up at him so desperately is what did him in. He could simply wait no longer to have what he wanted… you.

When you smiled at him he did not care any longer. He went straight in for the kiss. You wrapped your arms around him as he spun you around, happier than ever before. He had let his intentions be known. You were his for forever, his forever.

You would be embarrassed later but now it was just you and him. A giggle erupted from you as you hugged him once more. He grabbed your hand and pulled you along as he went to search for the Hobbits.

You took a knee after Aragorn spoke, “My friends… you bow to no one.” A smile erupted on your face as you watched the kingdom take a knee for them. Frodo’s face told the story. Aragorn gently wiped off the tears that were streaming down your face.

“I love you, my Queen.” He whispered in your ear.

“Your Queen?” You gasped looking up to him. Surely you did not think you would take

“Are we to be wed no?” He asked curiously.

“Aye.” You nodded, “I just did not believe to have such a title.” You looked away from him as he directed everyone to stand once more.

“I am King. You are to be my Queen.” He said so matter of factly you could not believe you were questioning yourself.

“As you wish.” You smiled so gleefully not truly believing this was actually your life now.

He leaned in for one more gentle kiss to please the crowd, “My Queen.” He whispered letting you know he had every good intention in the world with you. For the first time in his already long life, he could not wait to get his life started with you.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!) : @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891

[iwritefandomimagines]

I COULD KISS YOU — GREG HOUSE

masterlist

pairing: greg house x reader

description: when an offhand comment to praise house for helping you diagnose a patient leads to the silent treatment, you’re both forced to confront the feelings that had been lingering unspoken for too long.

warnings: swearing, angst to a teeny bit of fluff, may be a lil ooc as i’m still iffy on fleshing out how i write the house characters but i’m trying <3

author’s note: had this idea and got excited so bashed it out quite quickly while i was motivated af — hopefully you enjoy !!! let me know what you think

“Gregory House, you bloody genius,” you exclaimed, clenching your fists in excitement, unable to stop the words that came flying out next, “I could kiss you!”

You’d been trying to diagnose your patient for nigh on a week now, and with the young boy’s symptoms rapidly progressing and his condition rapidly worsening, House’s diagnostic expertise provided exactly the breakthrough you needed.

You were ecstatic — mentally piecing together just how he had to be correct — and so without another word you practically skipped out of his office to run some tests and reach the certainty needed to treat the boy as soon as possible.

What House had suggested made perfect sense, accounting for every symptom and every adverse reaction to the treatments you had tried so far, and though you usually mocked his tendency to always smugly assume he was right, at present you were immeasurably grateful for his input.

You were disappointed, then, when you rushed to tell him that the young boy was responding incredibly well to the treatment he suggested and he simply gave you his smug “I-told-you-so” smile and rushed away from you.

He didn’t speak to you again for the rest of the day, choosing instead to actually take time to visit his patients rather than deal with encountering you again.

“What did I do to piss House off?” you asked Cameron, Foreman and Chase shyly as you stood near the nurse’s station with them.

They all just eyed you like the answer was obvious, but Chase shrugged, “When has anyone ever needed to actually do something to piss him off?”

“No, he won’t even talk to me right now,” you frowned, brows furrowed, “It’s weird. I don’t know what I’ve done wrong since this morning.”

The group all looked between eachother, as though deciding who would be the one to have to tell you the honest truth.

“Probably something to do with your little ‘I could kiss you’,” Chase replied, doing a terrible impersonation of you and batting his eyelids flirtatiously as he quoted you, “He didn’t seem to like that very much.”

Your mouth was parted in confusion, “Firstly, I do not sound like that. But secondly, why would he give me the silent treatment for that? Is the idea of kissing me that repulsive?”

Cameron scoffed, rolling her eyes, “You’re both as oblivious as each other, Y/N… He’s ignoring you for literally the opposite reason.”

You shook your head in disbelief.

Was she seriously trying to tell you that House was ignoring you because he didn’t like you joking about kissing him?

“Don’t be ridiculous!”

“It’s literally painfully obvious, Y/N,” Foreman groaned, “You’ve had this weird sexual tension going on forever and given that he’s usually bad at giving a damn about people, he gets weird about you. And he obviously has feelings for you, so it rubbed him up the wrong way.”

Chase chuckled, “They’re right. He’s only mad at you because you’re the only person he’s never mad at but you hurt the feelings he apparently has.”

You pondered what he was saying for a moment, trying to piece together whether there was any semblance of truth behind their explanation for House’s weird behaviour.

Truth be told, it was the exact kind of petty and ill-fitting behaviour you’d expect from House.

For such a brilliant man, he could be utterly childish at times, especially if he wasn’t getting his way.

Your relationship had always teetered on the edge of professionalism — he was always making flirtatious comments, he always took your suggestions on board more than the others, always sung your praises to your peers and superiors.

Whilst everyone else was certain it was proof of his feelings for you, you had just thought he appreciated that you never pried into his life unless he offered to divulge information himself, and you were excellent at your job.

Of course, you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed your ambiguous relationship, given the crush you had harboured since very early on in your acquaintance. That’s why you always flirted back, always made sure your input was carefully though out, and why you were always singing his praises too.

But it was Greg House — a man who so famously behaved as though he didn’t care about anyone. So of course you didn’t think that things would ever progress past your unprofessional professional relationship.

“Where is he?”

“In his office,” Cameron smiled, “He told me to make sure nobody bothered him, and I think he meant you because he’s still throwing his toys out of the pram.”

You rolled your eyes with a laugh, “God, he’s ridiculous. I’m going to go and talk to him. Or try, anyway. Wish me luck.”

“Is this House we’re talking about?” Dr. James Wilson made an appearance at your side now, his brow quirked in curiosity as he butted into the conversation.

You nodded, “He’s being a baby instead of actually talking to me about why he’s mad.”

You hoped he’d have some kind of more concrete explanation, given that he was the only person House was even remotely honest around.

“He’s hardly an expert at talking about his feelings, is he? Or having them, actually,” Wilson chuckled, “But he’s been grumbling all day. Please do go and speak to him. For my sanity’s sake, if not your relationship’s.”

“Slow down, Wilson,” you scoffed, but though you didn’t want to get ahead of yourself, you couldn’t deny the fluttering in your stomach at any sort of reference to you and House’s potential relationship, “I’m going!”

You entered the room without even knocking, folding your arms over your chest with a stern expression on your features as you strode towards his desk and stood firmly in front of him.

“I’m busy.”

“Busy being petty and ignoring me?”

He looked up now, narrowing his eyes as he realised you were not going to meekly scuttle away like you had done every other time he’d dismissed you today.

“What makes you think that?” sarcasm dripped from his words, “I just so enjoy spending time getting to know my patients and doing paperwork!”

You huffed out a sigh, frustrated by him already trying to dodge the subject, “Greg.”

“Y/N.”

“Greg!”

“Y/N!” he matched your tone just to challenge you, and you scoffed, “Are you really going to be like this?”

“Like what?”

“So deliberately evasive?”

His lips drew together in a thin line as he eyed you carefully, “How’s your little boy from this morning?”

“You are so fucking frustrating, Greg,” you scowled, “Can we have an adult conversation here?”

He appeared to ponder over another joke to make, but apparently for the first time in his life thought better, as he remained silent and waited for you to continue.

“I’ve been so stressed out about that kid, and you helped me to help him massively — he’s likely to be discharged by tomorrow. I was so happy, so relieved, and I said I could kiss you,” you began, avoiding his gaze at first until your final sentence, “And it was a silly offhanded comment about how grateful I was, but at the same time I honestly could’ve kissed you because I quite honestly want to a lot of the time.”

Oh my God — you’d stunned the Greg House into silence?

Your breathing was jagged, “I don’t know if you’re just being an ass because you don’t like being on the other end of jokes, or if the team actually aren’t just blind hopeless romantics and you actually care about me. But I just wish you’d talk to me instead of doing all this and making me feel like you don’t care at all.”

He pulled himself up onto his feet, grabbing his cane to lean on as he inched closer to you.

“It’s a bit of both,” his voice was low, and you were sure that if you didn’t know him better you might believe him to be shy about telling you the truth, “I’m not good at caring, and I don’t usually like caring, but I guess I do. Sue me!”

You took another step forward, so that you were so close you were breathing right in each other’s faces.

You were trying to be brave and command the conversation, but your stomach was doing backflips as it dawned on you that what he meant was that he really did feel the same about you.

“Why would you go silent on me then instead of talking to me about it?” you bit your lip as you spoke, and caught notice of how his eyes trailed to your lips as you did so.

He swallowed thickly, “Didn’t feel right to. Hardly professional, is it?”

“Oh, because you’re the picture of professionalism usually aren’t you?” you laughed dryly.

“Point taken,” he shrugged, “Maybe I was little scared. And we’ve got a good thing going, it’s a risk pushing things any further.”

You weren’t happy with that, not when this was Greg House — king of taking risks and breaking rules — and you were certain that it was a risk worth taking anyway.

“When has risk ever stopped you?” you asked, whispering now as your eyes darted between his and his lips whilst he mirrored your behaviour.

“Point also taken,” he mumbled, before finally taking the plunge and bringing his lips to yours in a heated kiss that you leaned into immediately.

He quickly leaned back to sit on the edge of his desk, his hands finding your waist as he pulled you to stand between his parted legs.

You pulled back, suddenly aware that anyone could come in at this moment and see you — and whilst the biggest risk here really was endless teasing from the team or a scolding from Cuddy, you did still have some things to discuss too.

You didn’t want to ruin the moment, overcome with giddiness at what had just happened, but you wanted to make your feelings clear; Even if it was to a man who would probably make a jokey remark and underplay his own feelings.

“I don’t know your relationship history, and I don’t care to,” you shrugged, moving your hands to your hips but hardly moving away from him, “Well, I’m not rushing to. I can assume it’s not great, but I just want to take every day as it comes and see where things go because mine isn’t great either. I’m not gonna hurt you, Greg.”

The sincerity in his eyes as he gazed up at you made your heart melt, and you could tell that somehow, some way, you had gotten through to him.

“Don’t make promises you can’t be certain that you’ll keep, Y/N,” he mumbled, before shaking off his own words and standing back up to stare into your eyes intently, “But fine. Because it’s you, I’m willing to try. Provided there’s more of this,” he kissed you again before continuing, “And less of them ogling and concocting their little romantic stories about the lovely doctor Y/N and her damaged old fool.”

You turned around to see the entire team peering through the window, all smiles and whispered chatter at the sight before them.

You raised your middle finger to them, turning back to look at House and stepping back a little from him.

“Unfortunately, those nosey fuckers are not going anywhere,” you rolled your eyes, “If you’re willing to try then we’re going for dinner. Tonight. And we’re going to have a good time, and not talk about this place or about anything you don’t want to.”

He nodded, “I’ll pretend I’m not furious you’ve robbed me of making the grand romantic gesture of being the one to ask,” he cocked his head as he joked, truthfully very much pleased you were the one to ask and confirm that your interest in him was genuine, “But sounds good to me. I’ll wear my nicest tux, eh.”

“Yeah, yeah, ha ha,” you hummed, “Now I’ve got a living patient to go and visit thanks to you. Enjoy your afternoon with that lot,” you gestured to your friends, who were all still stood there watching you, “Good luck. Oh, and pick somewhere to book for us to eat. That can be your grand romantic gesture, hm.”

“Gee, thanks,” he laughed, shaking his head, “I’ll see you later.”

“See you later,” you grinned, swanning out of his office with the biggest smile possible painting your features.

You nudged past your friends as they watched you walk down the corridor, happier than they had probably ever seen you in the time that you’d known them.

They immediately filed into House’s office when you were out of sight, and his head fell back in irritation for a moment despite the smile still gracing his lips.

“Things went well, then?”

“Go away,” he replied, “I’m in a good mood for once, and you idiots aren’t going to ruin that, alright?”

“Woah, okay,” Foreman laughed, “Who are you and what has Y/N done with Greg House?”

———

thanks for reading !!! i hope enjoyed and this wasn’t too ooc lol. let me know what you though pleaaase & if you’d like — feel free to request!

in the meantime, here is my masterlist!

[aliesbienish]

Benedict Bridgerton with wife reader. Slow dance under the starlight. Ohhh, this comes to my mind at the right time it seems. You decide how it goes. Thanks!! :))

Slow Dances and the Night Sky

The night was well and truly underway, but you were still tossing and turning unable to reach sweet slumber. Mind running restless despite the late hour, body protesting no matter what position. Sleep seemed unattainable, and to make matters worse the air was still thick with oppressive heat despite the sun setting hours ago.

With a exasperated huff you decided to give up, slowly extracting yourself from bed without jostling your sleeping husband. You tiptoed out of the room and downstairs, heading for the cool night air.

The sky was clear, allowing the moon and stars to illuminate the garden. The gentle breeze providing some relief from the heat. The grass felt soft between your toes as you padded towards the swing set in the far corner of the lawn. Perching in the seat you faced away from the cottage, staring into the beautiful stillness of the countryside. Your mind began to wander once again as you gently swung to and fro.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when you were interrupted from your thoughts with a gently hand on your shoulder.

“Honey, what are you doing out here,” Benedict asked, his hand moving up from your shoulder to gently caress your cheek.

“Couldn’t sleep, needed fresh air,”

“And now, are you feeling sleepy?”

“No,” You frowned, mind still rushing.

“I have an idea,” Benedict decided, holding his hand out for you. Without hesitation you grabbed it and was pulled up from the swing into the middle of the lawn. Benedict placed you in his arms, wrapping them around his waste.

“Ben, what are we doing?”

“Dancing my love. Not only can you get lost in the rhythm to ease your mind, but hopefully it will also tire you out.”

You began moving in a box steep, slowly swaying. It came naturally, after dancing so often with Benedict you didn’t have to consider every move. You smiled up at him, eyes feeling slightly heavier than before. He looked majestic, stars twinkling in the sky above him.

Benedict noticed your eyes dropping, and slowly led you across the lawn, still swaying as you went.

“Ben, whats this?” You asked as he sat your down in a mass of pillows and blankets just outside of the cottage.

“When I woke and saw your weren’t in bed I figured it was due to the heat. Then the thought stuck me, why do we have to sleep inside in the heat when we we have ample fresh air available.”

“Ben you are a genius,” you giggled, pulling him down into the blanket pile with you. “I love you Mr Bridgerton,” You whispered, placing your head on his chest and allowing your eyes to close.

“And I you Mrs Bridgeton,”

[to-thelakes]

ok but i need a sequel to 'banged up'- pleaseeeee, kneeling, begging for more like 'banged up'

nonnie, ask and you shall receive <3

banged up (2)

pairing; frank castle x fem!reader

summary; frank continues to take care of your wounds while you worry for matt's safety until he decides makes an appearance.

warnings; fluff, hurt/comfort, reader is very injured but also very stubborn, soft frank, not proof-read, description/discussion of wounds and frank stitching the reader up, matt being (also) very soft, slightly suggestive towards the end, reader is catching feelings

notes; i think this is gonna need a 3rd part but i felt like this bit ended at the right time, i dunno what i was going to add to this part so i'm just gonna write another part at a later date (where maybe... frank and reader kiss) and then hopefully this fic idea will stop plaguing me, whoever sent in this ask in, i love you but i also hate you bc i have been plagued by thoughts of these two, anywayyy, enjoy <3

masterlist

part one

It was quiet as you lay in bed. Frank was still in the kitchen. You could hear him putting dishes away as you stared at your bedroom ceiling. The painkillers had worked wonders and lying still didn’t seem to hurt as much anymore. But your face was throbbing in pain. It was red and inflamed to the touch but Frank had promised to bring an ice pack when he was done with the washing up.

You were glad he was still here but you didn’t know where Matt was and that terrified you even more. He should have been here by now. Frank had said that he was going to come over when he was done with patrol. It had been hours. Frank had cooked. Patrol should have been finished and yet the familiar tap of Matt’s gloved hands against the window hadn’t come.

“Stop bitin’ your lip,” Frank scolded, startling your eyes back open. You slowly turned your head to look at him, the ache in your spine gave you a splitting headache. He had the ice pack in his hand as he walked over to the bed, “What you worryin’ about?” He asked. You slowly and gently began to push yourself to sit up. It made every fibre of your being ache but you ignored it, leaning back against the pillow.

Frank perched on the edge of your bed and moved the ice pack in his hand to rest against your cheek. It was red and bruised, probably a little bit swollen but he hadn’t noticed until you’d been chewing dinner. The pain had only got worse so he knew you needed to rest more.

“Why isn’t Matt back? You said he’d be back after patrol,” You responded. Every word made your jaw ache so you tried your best to speak quickly, get it all over with. Frank adjusted the ice pack on your cheek again before he held it there.

“Red can take care of himself. Don’t worry about him, yeah?” Frank said. You couldn’t help the scoff that fell from your lips but the second it did, you cried out. Frank was quick to cup the other side of your face, searching your eyes to make sure that you were okay. You sighed and forced your eyes back open to meet his.

“I’m fine,” You mumbled. He nodded and let his hand drop before he glanced at the bedside table. Maybe some more painkillers would do you some good.

“Can ya hold this for me, sweetheart?” He asked. You nodded and slowly lifted your hand to hold it in place. It made your body ache but you just closed your eyes and tried to forget what was happening. Matt was the one that had gotten you into this mess and he didn’t even have the decency to check up on you. It would have pissed you off if you weren’t so worried about him, “I’m gonna give you some more painkiller, open up,” He urged. You opened your mouth and Frank poured some of the liquid on the spoon before putting it in your mouth. You took it and swallowed it down.

“Aren’t I gonna overdose?” You asked, eyes still closed. You could feel the liquid slipping down your throat, every single movement and feeling in your body was amplified by ten. It was painful but the painkillers hopefully would provide some relief.

“Nah, you’ll be fine,” He said. You looked at him through hooded lids, exhaustion creeping up on you as you held the icepack in place. It was starting to warm up against your skin so you carefully flipped it over while Frank poured another spoon, “Open up,” he said. You grumbled but complied and took the spoonful. Then he capped the bottle and placed it - and the spoon - back on the side. You rested your head back against the headboard as Frank took the ice pack back from your grip. It meant that you could rest again.

“How am I gonna explain this to anyone at work?” You whined as your arms fell to your sides dramatically. Frank sighed and he gently nudged your thigh so that your eyes reopened. He had a sympathetic look on your face.

“Told you, you’re staying here,” He said. You narrowed your eyes but knew it was better not to argue. Your face hurt too much to argue and you closed your eyes again, “Wanna lie down?” He asked. You nodded and he placed the icepack on the side, “Come on, I’ll help.” With the two of you working together, Frank got you under the covers. Your face rested against the pillow and he tucked the icepack underneath. It was soothing against your red hot skin. He then slipped from the edge of the bed.

“Where are you going?” You croaked out as you looked up at him.

“Gonna go get Red,” He said. You pouted and he rolled his eyes, “Try and get some rest while I’m gone, yeah?” You grumbled but didn’t argue with him as your eyes fell closed again. Maybe it was better if you got some sleep. Lord knows that you needed it after the beating your body had taken.

-

The sun was trickling through your curtains when your eyes blinked back open. The pain was worse than it had been the previous night and you felt groggy. You felt sick. You wanted to throw your guts up but also didn’t want to move an inch. Your entire body hurt and you couldn’t help the soft whimper that escaped your lips.

There was an abrupt silence that permeated through the apartment. You hadn’t even realised that people were talking until they stopped. You rolled over, crying out as you curled up into yourself. Your body did it on reflex as if this pain was caused by your period. Curling up seemed to just make it worse.

“Hey, hey, sweetheart, what are you doin’?” Frank’s voice cut through the pain as the bed sunk underneath his weight. He gently nudged the covers back, urging you to lie on your back and you did - reluctantly. Every movement hurt and he checked your face over, concern etched across his features, “Can I check your stomach?” He asked. You nodded your head, not caring what he did as long as it relieved the pain that was running through your system. You felt so sick and every movement hurt. He pulled the covers back and your shirt was covered in a thick patch of blood, “Fuck,” He snapped. You blinked up at him blearily.

“What’s wrong?” You asked. The pain was too all-consuming for you to pinpoint where it came from so you didn’t realise that you had popped your stitches in your sleep.

“Red!” Frank called to the other room. His booming voice made you wince but he was quick to turn his attention back to you and cup your face, “It’s gonna be okay. Just stay calm and stay still, yeah?” You stared at him, confused and your brain was too addled with pain to understand but you didn’t move. You listened to him, “I swear to God, altar boy. If you don’t get here now,” Frank snapped as he turned his head back.

Matt appeared in the doorway with annoyance written across his face. He was holding the first-aid kit and an icepack as he walked over. He offered the kit to Frank while he walked over to you with the ice pack.

“Matt?” You asked as you looked over at him. He was still mostly in his Daredevil suit. His hair was mussed from the helmet and his gloves were off but otherwise, the red material still covered him all over.

“Hey,” He said as he sat on the edge of the bed. Frank had already shoved your shirt up away from your stomach and was carefully removing the popped stitches. You suddenly could feel how the pain radiated from your stomach, wincing with every movement Frank made against your sensitive injury, “Does your face hurt?” He asked. You let out a garbled ‘yeah’ as you tried not to wince in pain. He placed the icepack against it, leaning into the relief (and Matt’s hand). Matt’s gaze then turned away from you, your eyes closed at the small bit of relief, “What happened?” He snapped. Frank was now threading the needle, ready to stitch you up again.

“Her stitches popped while she slept,” Frank snapped back as he glanced up at you. You looked so serene considering the pain you were in but he didn’t have time to think about that. Instead, he focused back on your bleeding wound and pinched the skin together, beginning to stitch it. Matt could hear your soft whimpers and smell the spikes of cortisol with every prick but there wasn’t much he could do to relieve you.

“Knew you didn’t do a good job,” You mumbled from where your head rested. The fact that you were still joking brought some relief to Frank but his shoulders were still ridged as he focused on keeping you better.

“You wouldn’t stop squirming so it was kinda hard,” Frank joked back in response. You rolled your eyes playfully before you looked up at Matt.

“It’s always my fault, huh?” The pain hit you like a wave and he watched as you cried out, back arching. The brief jokey tone that you had taken vanished in seconds, “Fuck,” You wailed. Matt’s other hand came to rest in your hair, smoothing his thumb along your hairline. Your eyes squeezed shut as Frank continued his stitches.

“Nearly done now,” Frank reassured as he was on his last stitch. He tugged the skin back together before sealing the stitches up. Once he was happy, he leaned over and grabbed a piece of gauze, taping it over the wound, “Do you want some pain meds?” He asked. You hummed out, meaning ‘yes’ and Frank slipped off the bed to grab the pain meds from the kitchen. That left you and Matt alone for a moment.

“Where were you last night?” You asked, forcing your eyes open to meet Matt’s unfocused gaze, “I was worried about you,” You muttered. Matt sighed and he shifted his hand on your temple down to your cheek.

“I had to keep patrolling to make sure nobody came after you. How are you feeling?” He asked as you let out little hisses and whimpers of pain. He knew it was a stupid question and he knew exactly how your body was feeling but it was more comforting to hear you say it.

“Like shit,” You muttered, “Can’t believe being friends with you got me into this.” There was a teasing lilt to your tone and Matt chuckled. Even with your eyes half-closed, you knew that Matt felt guilty. You knew that he was blaming himself for what happened but you had decided to associate with Daredevil. Matt gave you the chance to walk away and you didn’t. It was just as much your fault as his.

“I’m sorry,” He said. You scoffed and shifted on the bed.

“Pft, this is nothing. I was walking around last night,” You responded simply. Matt couldn’t help but crack a smile as Frank walked back in with the pain meds and a spoon. Matt took it as his moment to slide off the bed.

“I need to go to the firm. Talk to Foggy and Karen. Will you be okay here?” Matt asked. Matt tried to make it seem like he was asking if you’d physically be okay but you knew that he was asking if you were comfortable with Frank being here. Which, to you, was an incredibly stupid question but you knew Matt. He didn’t trust Frank like you did. So, you simply nodded.

“I’ll be fine,” You reassured. Frank let out a soft ‘uh-huh’, almost glaring at Matt before he walked over to the bed. He helped you slowly get to your feet as Matt grabbed his helmet from the kitchen. He listened to the two of you for a moment before he decided that you would be fine under the care of Frank, “Thank you, for taking care of me,” You muttered as you looked up at Frank. You could see him better now in the daylight. His crooked nose from being broken one too many times, angular jaw, gorgeous fucking lips. His face was a little bruised up but he still looked so pretty to you. A love-sick smile began to overtake your face as Frank poured out a spoon of painkillers for you.

When he looked back up, he caught the way you were looking at him. You looked so bashful despite how bruised up you were. He held the spoon out and you took some down.

“Altarboy is too worked up,” Frank stated and you chuckled, swallowing down the painkiller. You nodded but that made your headache split across your temples. You winced before resting your head back.

“He needs to get laid,” You stated plainly. Frank chuckled at that and he poured another spoon out for you, “He’s not the only one but that won’t be happening for a while,” You muttered, a little bitterly. Frank held the spoon out for you, “They could have at least let me finish my date before they kidnapped me.” Frank’s eyebrows furrowed as you took the spoonful of painkillers, swallowing down the pink liquid.

“That guy was an asshole,” Frank stated and you looked at him, head tilted to the side slightly, “Didn’t treat you right.” You were a little puzzled by his words but you tried not to think about it. The guy you’d gone on a date with hadn’t been your type anyway but it was still a bummer that you lost the opportunity. It could have ended in you finally getting laid but it seemed that the universe had other plans; getting you tortured. What a bitch.

“Find a man that treats me right in this city and I’ll never look back, scout’s honour,” You muttered. Frank rolled his eyes and he grabbed the ice pack from the side, placing it against your face.

“Yeah. I’m not makin’ that promise,” He said simply. You couldn’t help the playful grin that spread across your face.

“Frank Castle backing down? I never thought I’d see the day,” You teased. Frank just rolled his eyes before he got up to his feet. You pouted at the loss of contact, craving the warmth of his touch. It had helped distract you from the pain.

“I’ll make some breakfast,” Frank said before he headed out of the room. You pouted, not exactly pleased but your stomach grumbled for something. So, you let him disappear to cook something delicious for you.

<3

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

What about accidentally sitting on obey me brothers face??

Accidentally Sitting On Their Face | Yandere Obey Me!

Lucifer 

“How in the Devildom did you end up like this?!”

“I don’t want to point fingers but it was-”

“Mammon? I’m going to kill him, just hold tight I’ll get up the steps to get you.”

“No! Agh I’m slipping!”

“(Y/n)!”

He just so happened to find you hanging on the railing of the mansion during their stay in the human world

But the human world has a tendency to make you slow

So it didn’t really occur to him to transform and fly up to you 

All he mustered at the time was catching you himself

He might have miscalculated as you sat firmly on his face

“Ahhh Luci! I’m so sorry!” 

Horrified you spring up 

letting him gain his bearings as he wiped imaginary dust off his pants

“I wished we could save such activities for the bedroom but if you insist.”

He’s usually so composed when you try to tempt him

But your boldness just gets the best of him

“Where are you going, we’re not done here.”

Mammon

“Go ahead (Y/n) just grab as much as you can! I have a whole bag!”

“Okay okay just don’t squeeze too hard!”

If it weren’t for his ultimate goal of getting the mineral deposit he would have been indulging in the intimacy of holding you up

Trying to push yourself up higher you wobbled with a loss of balance

Coming crashing down on the avatar of greed

“Oh, my–Mammon are you okay? Can you breath at all.”

“Mmmm~”

He can’t 

But why would he when he’s deeply focused on suffocating in your scent

He would have never had a chance otherwise

He whines when you lift up from him 

Turning his head when you question the attitude change

When he gets more confident he’ll ask you to do it on purpose

“Come on, lucky charm! It’s for luck in the casino! Don’t you want to give me luck!?”

Satan

It’s all his fault 

This man would sooner murder his brother with a ‘prank’ than clean his room

Even when you decide to actually come to hang out in his room 

It’s a given that you slip while he’s nose-deep in this latest book

Providing the perfect distraction for a demon otherwise too focused to even think about the cleanliness of his room

“Ahh ouch! But of course, I would slip because you don’t clean…Satan?”

“...”

“Why is it so hot down…Ah, Satan!? Are you okay?”

“...Yes, I just…give me a minute…”

He’s spacing out for the rest of the week replaying the moment over and over again

It’s appalling how unprepared for this he is

Practically high on ecstasy for a week

He needs to get himself together if not for your sanity than for his own

“Y-you want me to sit on your face?”

“Yes, this is the perfect form for exposure therapy. So that hopefully next time this should happen I’ll be better able to handle it.”

He never will

Leviathan

Similar scene 

It's dark he leaves a lot of things laying around

And when he’s forcing you to sit in his lap for hours at a time 

When you finally get up your plummeting right back down

Providing Levi with the plush softness of your butt

Now as long as he’s not on a checkpoint who are we kidding he’d be happy even still

“Mmmmmm!”

“Aaaaaaaa!!”

“OmigoshOmigoshOmigoshOmigosh you’re on top of me! I’m in you! Aaahhh this is just like that scene from the Rurichan!!! This is my moment!”

He’s oddly hyped

He takes it as a reward for some of the instant kill missions he’s completed in your name

Rationalizing that you're too wonderful, too mighty to tell him directly

So this is your little way of thanking him

So excuse his forceful behavior when you try to get up

“L-levi you can’t keep doing this! You’ve got to let me go!”

“Nope! I’m reaping the conquest of my grinding…ha ha..in life I mean.”

Asmodeus

“Whoa you almost got it (Y/n)~! Just keep looking~!”

“Is it really far back, I can’t seem to–eh?! Asmo you’re holding the latter right?”

“Huh-uh!”

Totally orchestrates the scenario

He’s been thinking about it for a while 

And cuddling just isn’t doing it for him anymore

Rather he’s looking for some new material to jerk himself off to

He’s very much still into cuddling, he’s just peeved he got caught

“Ooops~!”

“Ah!”

Landing perfectly on his face, Asmo is so pleased he actually did the math for this

He squishes his face into your crevices

Unrefutably sniffing as he holds your shocked self in place

Maybe even a lick or two or twenty

“Ah~Asmodeus! S-stop it! Let me up!”

“Ahh~! I wish I could see your face~but I’m a little busy!”

Beelzebub

“What are you going up there?”

“Dang it Beel, this is my stash! I–whoa!”

“(Y/n)!” He catches you 

But with his face

True to form he doesn’t necessarily pick up on the implication

But he knows one thing 

“Mmmhmhmh!”

“Beel! Don’t try to talk to me just let me-”

“But it smells good here…can I–”

“No Beel! Stop! Let go of my–Ah! Don’t use your teeth!”

He acts like a starving animal trying to get a taste

Either give him a taste or throw him a bone

“I just really like that feeling…I want to feel it again.”

Belphegor

It's known that Belphie sleeps anywhere

Not only that 

He walks in his sleep 

So it isn’t bizarre that he ends up sleeping where you might be sitting

“Oh my gosh, Belphie-? What?”

“Zzzzz stay–zzz”

He’s not letting go 

No matter how hard you pull or try to unhook his fingers 

It makes you wonder if he’s even sleeping at this point

“Oh? (Y/n) what are doing…”

“I accidentally…sat here but then you wouldn’t let me go…but now that your awake can you let me–”

“Nope.”

“What?!”

“I think I’ll turn you around but I’m not letting you go.”

[chaithetics]

Oscar Isaac Characters x Reader with Tics HCs

Pairing: Multiple Oscar Isaac characters (Steven Grant, Jake Lockley, Marc Spector, Nathan Bateman, Richard Muñoz, Anselm Vogelweide, Miguel O'Hara) x GN reader with tics. Request: Oscar Isaac characters helping reader on a bad tic day? Word count: 2.6K Dividers by: @saradika-graphics Warnings: Mentions of tic attacks and injuries, no physical descriptions, reader has tics but no specific tics disorder. Tried to keep this fluffy. Not proofread! A/N: Thank you for this request and for sharing your experiences with me! I hope you and everyone else enjoy it. Dear Americans, I used an english word and candy not sweets! (that's why it's in caps!) Comments and reblogs are appreciated!🫶 More disabled reader fics.

Steven Grant

Steven’s always patient and gentle and he’s been that exact compassionate way whenever you’ve had tic attacks, he’s there for you and doesn’t put more attention or pressure on you when it happens. He’s never made you feel bad or embarrassed about having tic attacks or when you’d have clapping your hands or clicking your fingers in public, he’ll only bring attention to it to check in on you when you look uncomfortable, in pain or he can tell you’re having a tic attack. Steven tries really hard to understand what’s like for you and how to best support you, he’s never seen it as a chore or a burden, it’s just one of his many acts of love.

When you’re having a tic attack he’s immediately at your side, his eyes flicker around to see if there’s anything you’ll injure yourself on. Steven then moves things around a bit frantically and helps you however he can and in ways that you can communicate in the moment or have talked about in the past. Steven tries to use distractions as a way to provide some relief and break the tic attack. He’ll start gently asking you questions about your day, he’ll tell you about the newest facts he’s learnt and books he’s read about ancient Egypt. 

He keeps a container stocked to the brim with different fidget toys and he’ll get them out to help distract you and hopefully help break a tic and prevent you from hurting yourself. He has chewable fidget toys for tics involving biting or teeth grinding, ones for you to squeeze and hold in your hands to try and help with the motor tics in your hands and arms. Steven does everything he can to give you some kind of sensory and mental distraction to try and help while you’re going through an attack. Afterwards he’s more than happy to make you a cup of tea with some biscuits and bring all your favourite snacks to cuddle in bed. He’ll also keep the container of fidget toys nearby and he’ll fidget with them as well as you rest and share snacks.

Richard Muñoz

Richard was your sweet neighbour, you’d seen him walking his cute little dog Bianca before and had done the neighbourly thing of waving to each other when you saw each other in your driveways. Neighbourly things, but you hadn’t interacted for a real conversation or anything like that until one day you’d been having a terrible day. You’d had constant physical tics, your body was in pain and all your muscles ached. You’d been coming home and you had to stop and sit in your front yard right by the driveway and take deep breaths. One breath in, another out, you tried to focus on your breathing in order to not think about how you felt like you were going to collapse. You squeezed your eyes shut as your arm waved out and your shoulder spasmed. 

Richard had noticed you being outside, he hadn’t seen you just sit down like that before and as he looked closer he couldn’t help but see the discomfort in your face. Richard will debate for a moment if he should approach or not because of his anxiety. But he’ll decide to pop out to check on you, Richard will come outside and ask how you are. 

As your body shudders and his eyes widen a little you try to explain as quickly as you can with the few words you can speak. Richard’s an empathetic person and he’s used to stressful situations because of his work environment. He crouches down and asks if you’d like him to stay. You shudder again and give a small nod seconds before your neck painfully spasms. 

Richard sits with you the whole time, he’s great at being a calm presence, you’ll quickly learn. After your tic attack has finished he insists on you going next door to him so he can cook for you so you can get some good nutrition and soul food and have someone around in case you need it. 

It’s not long before you know Richard well and get together. He’s a calm, supportive presence during all tic attacks and he listens to you talk about your tics and what the attacks are like. After you’ve had tic attacks, Bianca will sit in your lap as a fluffy weighted blanket if you’re feeling up for it and if not she’ll sit near you in silent support. Her and Richard have both become big fans of you. 

He makes you his favourite meals and he’ll sit with you and play telenovelas on his television while you sit on the couch. It’s a nice distraction and he’ll explain the elaborate plots of past episodes and seasons you’ve missed while you watch, his eyes get wide and light up each time he does. You give him just as much comfort as he gives you, if not more.

Jake Lockley

His brow immediately furrows in concern as he sees you. He worries that you’re having a bad tic day because of stress and he’s a man of action. He wants to be practical with his support while also pampering you and making everything that he can easier for you. Everything. 

As he tries to help you lay down without getting in your way or putting too much pressure on you, he moves the bedding around in order to create a soft cosy nest in the bed with blankets and pillows for you to rest in but he carefully arranges everything to make sure that nothing could end up as some choking or injury hazard. Jake’s listened to you speak about your lived experiences and been around long enough to know that fatigue makes your tics worse and that having tic attacks is also extremely physically and emotionally exhausting. 

Jake hopes that some rest might help ease up the tics and that if you’re more comfortable it’ll make it easier to feel better. Jake also knows that this is much safer than being on the couch or sitting down somewhere, your muscles are seizing up and spasming, he’s not going to have you fall or injure yourself. 

“Ay, mi vida…” Jake softly whispers as he watches you, he gently caresses your trembling arm with a feather light touch as your neck jerks to the left. 

It hurt, it really did. It was sore and you already knew that because of the pain and deep ache in your neck from all the neck spasming and head jerking from this tic attack, that you’d feel the pain and then be reminded of the tic attack and it would come back later. 

“Just take some nice breaths for me, amor… It’s okay. It’ll pass.” Jake whispers softly, his voice is so gentle as he watches you and he keeps gently caressing your arm as you lay there in bed. You try to take some deep breaths, to regulate your system to the best of your ability. 

After one of the longest 30 something minutes in your life, the tic attacks ends and you close your eyes, inhaling a deep shuddery breath before you open them and he looks at you smiling. You give him a small smile when you can manage it. Jake spends the rest of the night pampering you in bed and encouraging you to rest. 

Nathan Bateman

You were sitting on the floor in one of the many living room-esque spaces in the secluded compound, the only air your body would let you breathe in were short quick breaths, the air never making its way all the way down and you knew it was just adding to the stress. 

You’d been grunting for a few minutes and your jaw ached, it would be no surprise if a bruise appeared over the next day. It wouldn’t be your first and it wouldn’t be your last. A motor tic attack had come on and you’d been punching yourself. You felt woozy as it came on and knew it was best to sit down. As your muscles spasmed and ached you felt like you were going to collapse. At least Nathan had plush carpet installed in this room, it made it feel the tiniest bit safer than if this attack had started in one of the more colder parts of the compound. 

That was how Nathan found you, sitting on the floor, tense, teary eyed and witnessing you just punch yourself. Nathan’s eyes widened and his brows shot up higher in concern. He could tell you were having a tic attack and a more harmful one. Nathan was a certified genius with all the headlines and degrees to prove it, when he’d met you and you’d told him about your tics and what that looked like for you. He nodded, mentally noting down each word you’d said. Nathan had then read every peer-reviewed journal article to ever been published and was impressively educated on tics now. He still let you lead how you wanted to go about things though. 

Nathan pulls some of the cushions off of the sofa nearby and puts them around you to try and help alleviate some of the physical and emotional stress your body is going through. He gives you space though, knowing that any physical touch or hovering just wouldn’t help right now. After a moment he leans back on his heels and then speaks to the impressive system built into the house and your favourite song starts to play. He hums quietly to it as a low stakes distraction. 

“Just some nice deep breaths for me, love,” he says gently and looks at you earnestly. The tone is too gentle for his usual arrogance, it’s moments like this you remember he’s human, just another AI humanoid in a closet. 

You take some breaths, slowly your body starts to relax and you feel better. Nathan picks you up to lay you on the couch, he kisses your forehead and then goes to the kitchen for a brief moment. 

“Here, your blood sugar is probably low and your brain- nevermind, just eat.” He says once he’s back and places a tall glass of juice down on the glass coffee table and a bowl of CANDY near you. 

Nathan then sits down at the end of the sofa, placing a comfortable cushion onto his lap for you to rest your head on and a fuzzy, warm blanket over you as he caresses your cheek gently.

Anselm Vogelweide

Your body had been spasming, you didn’t know how long it had been going on for but one spasm on its own was terrible, let alone feeling your muscles tense and then untense before tensing up again for at least minutes. Your body wasn’t giving you any respite as this happened. “Oh my sweet, dear.” Anselm says as he walks into the bedroom and sees you in bed like this, your muscles spasming and your face coloured in discomfort. 

Anselm doesn’t touch you during your tic attacks, especially when you’re experiencing muscle spasms but he’ll always stay nearby and wait. Watching, he grimaces whenever he sees you in pain, due to his long history of chronic pain he understands the physical toll this takes on your body and he takes it seriously. He’ll stay with you and support you however he can, he’ll softly speak about his latest winnings and some business that’s definitely all legal. He’ll communicate with you on what you need based on what you’ve talked about in the past and what’s manageable for you during each tic attack, whether it’s you speaking, or nodding or moving a finger. 

Afterwards, you’ll lie in bed and he’ll offer to gently massage any limb that’s sore from your spasms and if you want acupuncture or a more professional massage therapist than him, he’ll have some renowned practitioner (that he’ll have a unique connection to) at the estate before you can blink. 

“Oh my dear, whatever you need is yours. Always.” Is what he’ll say to whatever you need and then his staff will come in with water, your favourite drinks and snacks so you can rest, eat, and hydrate to replenish any spoons you’ve lost.

Miguel O'Hara

Miguel’s done plenty of research on tics, he’s listened to every word you utter and experience you’ve shared and then read thousands and thousands of journal articles and textbooks. Technically speaking, he knows more than any of your doctors but you won’t tell them that.  

Miguel immediately knelt down as he went over to see you. He had noticed that you’d been snapping your fingers often earlier that day but here you were, shaking and snapping your fingers and squeezing your eyes shut. His red eyes focus on you as he thinks, he quickly leaps over to a desk and finds a stress ball and a first aid kit. He gives you a stress ball to try holding, hoping it’ll help with your tic. 

It’s not easy to hold but it’s helping a little, as it slows down slightly he asks if he can try putting band-aids onto your fingers, you’d both talked about it before. You shudder and give a small nod, with Miguel’s extra-human gifts he does it in a blink of an eye, quicker than humanly possible and with so much ease you barely notice. Something for the better and something that’ll hopefully help with preventing your fingers and hands from getting raw and sore. 

Miguel has Lyla play a breathing exercise audio that’s been tailored just for you to help you focus and regulate your breathing to help with the tic attack. After your tic attack is finally over, Miguel has your blood pressure and other vitals checked and then gives you a tall glass of water and electrolytes to drink. Miguel then has your favourite sweet treats and snacks high in sodium and other nutrients his research has told him is useful. Miguel will then sit with you on his lap and have your favourite film playing.

Marc Spector

Marc is someone who has had to do a lot of learning but he’s been willing to nonetheless. When he sees you in a tic attack that can be quite harmful to yourself, he has to pause for a moment and remind himself that ‘stopping’ the tic won’t make it go away or any easier for you. And that while it’s uncomfortable for him to see you in this type of pain and distress, it’s a million times worse for him than it is for you. 

If you’re banging your head or arms against a hard surface he won’t ever try to restrain you, instead he’ll go and get pillows to put it between you and the surface to soften the impact. Marc will quickly check for any safety risks like sharp and hard objects and surfaces and he’ll help you move if needed. He’ll stay with you but he’ll give you space because he knows that’s important, he doesn’t want to add more to what you’re going through, he won’t hover or pester but instead support you however he can with what helps and what you can consent to right now and have agreed to in the past. 

Marc will get you water and snacks during and after, he’ll give you cuddles and any kind of physical touch you’re okay with and want afterwards. He’ll get heat pads and gels ready for any sore muscles and keep quietly handing you glasses of water before you spend the night cuddling in all those comfy pillows and cosy blankets.

[lee-lucius]

Fatherly Love

Summary: Zeff isn't used to dealing with kids, especially not one like Sanji.

Word Count: 5,630

Warning: Mild spoilers for Sanji and Zeff's backstory (The Baratie Arc)

There is nowhere near enough content for Sanji and Zeff, and I had to do something about. I've only seen the live action and started reading the manga (hopefully it isn't too ooc 😅), but I'm already unreasonably attached to these two. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! 💙

Zeff never saw it as anything complicated. When they finally did get off that godforsaken rock, Sanji had nowhere to go. And, well, he'd already given up a leg for the boy; he didn't see why he shouldn't give up piracy as well.

So they started over. Neither of them were ready to give up the sea, not until they found the All Blue, and Zeff always enjoyed sharing a meal. So they opened Baratie. 

Maybe it wasn't the best place for a kid to grow up, on a ship full of angry brutes, but the little eggplant got on well enough with the crew—Zeff made sure of that—and he seemed content enough. At least, better than he had been after their rescue. It wasn't perfect, but it wasn't horrible, either.

But there were still moments that shattered their illusion of peace, like right now. Sighing, Zeff pulled off his sheets, slowly sitting up and slipping his legs off the bed, taking a moment to steady himself. It wasn't as easy as it'd been in his younger years. He didn't think he'd ever get used to the wooden leg, or the little eggplant's muffled cries that kept him up almost every night.

It was odd, considering what a deep sleeper Zeff had been when he was younger, but it was almost as if he had a sixth sense for when Sanji needed him; when he'd wake up, shivering and sobbing over his latest nightmare, Zeff woke up as well, lumbering over to his room to provide what little comfort he could for a boy who'd been through far too much.

Knocking lightly, he waited for Sanji's muffled consent before entering and closing the door softly behind him. He didn't know why he'd bothered giving Sanji his own room when Zeff spent the night there more often than not. Something about a growing boy needing his privacy; how simple he thought it'd be.

"Just me," Zeff said, as if they both weren't already used to this routine. It still made something stir uncomfortably in his chest every time, seeing Sanji's small figure curled up in his bed, blankets huddled around him like a faulty shield, head tucked into his chest to hide his tear-stained face, though Zeff still saw the way his shoulders trembled and heard the pained, hiccuping gasps Sanji tried to hide.

Zeff didn't say anything else. There was no reason to bombard the boy with pointless questions, especially when it only seemed to send him slipping further into a panic. 

He never knew what he was supposed to do in situations like this. He liked to think his presence helped; after all, he was the only who'd been there with Sanji, though Zeff thought his issues began with something long before the shipwreck, and Sanji never stopped letting him in. But he'd never quite been a smooth talker, save for with women, and always found himself tongue-tied in situations like these. Zeff wasn't one for emotions, and Sanji was perhaps the most emotional boy he'd ever known.

There wasn't much to do besides perch on his bed, sitting as far away from Sanji as possible to give him space, and frown, trying to act as if his heart wasn't ripping in two at each muffled cry.

It must have been an especially bad night. Zeff realized that as his cries slowly quieted and his small, trembling frame steadily inched closer. Finally, Sanji's knee, barely a fraction of the size, touched his own. He was tense, more than before, and skittish, as if any wrong move from Zeff could send him running. It probably would. So Zeff did nothing, allowing Sanji his own time to decide.

They'd never been affectionate with each other. Zeff had never been affectionate with anyone, really, except for in the brief way that sailors met with women, something as intimate as these moments with Sanji but in an entirely different way.

Zeff had only ever used his body for that and fighting, which only made this harder. It wasn't like the other times Samji had reached out for him, right after the rock, or even in the midst of it, when he threw himself at Zeff in a moment of reckless grief, while Zeff wrapped his arms around him, trying to offer comfort in a way he didn't know how.

This was different. Slower. Intentional. Calculated, even. 

It wasn't a helpless boy blindly reaching out to soothe the ache in his heart, but it was a helpless boy reaching out to him.

Sanji wanted him.

Zeff waited. Sanji continued to creep closer until he leaned into Zeff's side, and finally, slowly, gently, slower and gentler than he ever thought he could be, Zeff wrapped his arm around him, pulling Sanji into a hug.

Sanji buried his face in his chest, his own clumsy arms wrapping around Zeff, clutching handfuls of his shirt as if he was afraid to let go, afraid this would end.

"You're alright now," he said, voice gruffer, and a bit more emotional, than he intended. He lifted one hand, stroking his hair, the other rubbing his back, trying to remember what soothed him all those long years ago when he was a boy. "That's over. You're alright."

Sanji held onto him all night, crying until he finally slipped back into sleep, and Zeff stayed there, awake and cursing the growing ache in his back, until it was time for morning prep, when he shook Sanji awake, squeezing his shoulder one last time before leaving him to get ready for the day. 

-

Neither of them spoke about what happened.

They barely spoke at all, save for a mini-screaming match when Zeff tried to drown Sanji's dish in oregano before it was sent out to his patrons.

It was a busy day, but at least they had had a functioning waitstaff for once—thank god for small mercies. Zeff didn't have the time to babysit Sanji, not anymore than usual, when he had to try and keep the rest of his rowdy crew in line, though he figured the reason at least half of their customers were there was in hopes of seeing the rumored fighting pirates.

There was hardly even a moment for him to sit down, rest his leg and back, and get some shut eye, though the sips of alcohol he savored between the lunch and dinner rushes helped.

But at the end of the day, he was more drunk on exhaustion than anything else, practically stumbling over his feet as he stalked through the kitchen, ensuring every surface and every dish was up to his standards. On days like these, the last day before they hauled up their anchor and moved on, his men tended to get lazy, a problem he could never solve no matter how many times he yelled at them. Except for one, who shared his dutiful dedication to maintaining a clean kitchen.

"Shouldn't you be heading off?" Zeff asked, glancing at Sanji as he silently swept the floors. "A growing boy needs his rest."

"I could say the same. Doesn't a shitty old man need his beauty sleep?"

He grunted. They both knew why he was so tired, and they both knew why Sanji didn't want to go to sleep, but they both said nothing. Didn't matter much tonight, anyway. They could both sleep in, supposing Sanji managed to stay asleep for once. Zeff put a kettle on the stove. Tea usually helped Sanji get through the night.

"Come here, kid," he called, after the tea was brewed. Sanji always preferred it sweeter, so he added a dollop of sugar and spoonful of honey, while he added something a little stronger to his.

Zeff kicked a stool in his direction, and he sat down, gratefully taking the mug that came along with it and enjoying a long sip. 

"Not as shit as usual," he said, which was about as good a compliment as any, coming from him.

Leaning against the counter next to him, Zeff took a much needed drink of his own, glaring down at him. "You don't need to help me down here every night. Not that you're much help."

"'Not much help'? I'm the only reason people come to this shithole!"

"Mm. Are you then?" He didn't have the energy for this now. Damn kid.

"I'm the only half-decent chef you have!"

Zeff would never understand where his arrogance came from, not that it was entirely unwarranted. He had made Sanji his sous-chef for a reason, and it wasn't just his fondness for him.

"And who's the one that taught how to make those fancy little dishes, eggplant?"

"It doesn't matter when you drown everything in oregano."

"It's a delicacy!"

"It's for savages!" He slammed his empty mug on the counter, his one visible eye glaring daggers at Zeff, who had to resist the urge to laugh. It'd be a good few years before Sanji got anywhere close to intimidating him.

"You're too young. Palate hasn't developed yet," he waved him off, collecting his glass to wash it in the sink. No need making the kid do it, not when he was practically about to fall off his stool.

"No, you're too old. Can't taste shit anymore."

Zeff rolled his eyes. He didn't know why he always started a fight. Just his attitude, he supposed. He had to take in a kid with the worst personality imaginable. And it didn't help that he was eerily similar to how Zeff had been at that age.

"I can still see well enough, and you're done for the night."

Sanji stumbled to his feet, knowing he was right but not wanting to agree with him. "You look worse than I do."

"Mhm. Then let's both get to bed," he said, because Sanji was right too, and he couldn't bother to keep up with any more banter.

Nudging him in the back, Zeff wasn't prepared for Sanji's violent flinch that almost sent him toppling over. He resisted his instinct to reach out and steady him, figuring that would only make things worse. Instead, Sanji's fingers dug into the countertop, clutching it so hard his knuckles paled, and he turned towards Zeff, eyeing him wearily.

They stared at each other for a moment, silent, before Zeff sighed. 

"Go on. Up to bed."

Sanji only nodded and trudged along. Zeff supposed they hadn't made as much progress as he thought. He'd have to be more careful next time.

-

Zeff always preferred days when Baratie was sailing. As much as he enjoyed the regular hustle and bustle, serving whatever customers had washed up that day, he enjoyed these quiet moments more.

It was good, standing on deck and watching the ship bob in the water, breathing in the sea breeze that was never the same when they were stagnant. He craved the movement, the sailing. And the quiet. Which made him feel like the old man Sanji always insisted he was. As if he was coaxing into retirement and savoring easy days on the sea.

But there was never anything easy on Baratie. 

After he'd assembled his men to yell at them about their lazy behavior yesterday and lack of respect, they were dismissed and shuffled out of the kitchen, grumbling among each other but knowing better than to stand up to Zeff.

They'd be really punished later, but a light scalding was enough for now. Especially when he had other plans.

Sanji crept into the kitchen, eagerly buzzing around with a frantic energy Zeff rarely saw. That was another good thing about it. On days like these, Sanji was more excited than Zeff had ever seen him.

It was like there was finally life in the kid. His cheeks flushed, eyes bright, and joy palpable. He couldn't shut up either. The whole time he was rambling, trying to spew out his mess of ideas all at once that had been building up in his head since the last time they did this.

It really wasn't anything that special, and it always led to more than one argument between them, but Sanji liked to offer his input to these menu changes, even when most of his ideas consisted of trite, over-inspired pieces of shit. Though Sanji felt the same way about most of Zeff's dishes. 

After gathering up all of his ingredients and managing to form his ramblings into something coherent, Sanji prepared his sample dishes with Zeff watching closely, correcting his mistakes or suggesting alternate techniques. Sanji was always surprisingly receptive to his advice, though he was always an enthusiastic student, and Zeff thought he preferred it when they were alone like this. Even if he still protested oregano coming anywhere near his food. Damn rebellious kid.

It took the entire day and only two fights that escalated so far Zeff worried Sanji would grab the knife on the cutting board and stab him, which was better than usual. They'd sampled enough dishes that neither of them were hungry, nor the rest of the crew, not when they called in a member or two for a third opinion, or a witness when their fights got especially heated.

The kitchen was a mess, but it wasn't their problem. Zeff wanted to head in early, and his crew had to be punished for their mess yesterday, so making them deal with disaster was only fair. With all of them working together, it wouldn't take too long anyway, unless they got into a fight—no, until they got into a fight, forcing Zeff to straighten them out again.

But until then, he pulled Sanji with him above deck to relax for a change.

The sun was already beginning to set; the sky fading into a pinkish-reddish color as Zeff sat down to watch it. Now he really was acting like an old man. Maybe he should start thinking about retirement. 

He glanced at Sanji, but he seemed to be enjoying himself as well, even with something as simple as this. It seemed they both savored these little, simple moments.

Now would be a good time to continue their other training. Zeff had been teaching the boy to fight, only simple moves so far, though their progress was slowed by Zeff's own efforts to adjust to his new leg. But it was late, and they were both tired, even if yesterday was one of Sanji's better nights. He'd put it off for another day.

Zeff was so absorbed by his thoughts that he almost didn't register the movement in the corner of his eye. Not until Sanji was noticeably closer to him.

It was different this time. Maybe it was because of his excitable attitude today, or maybe he was starting to feel just a bit more at ease around him, but Sanji, in one quick, casual motion, pressed into Zeff's side, leaning against him. 

His body was stiff, no matter how nonchalant he tried to act, and when Zeff looked at him closely enough, he could see the slight shake in his hands. It took a few minutes before Sanji began to relax, his tense muscles easing into the touch, and in another act of courage, he leaned his head against Zeff's shoulder.

He was warm. That was the first thing Zeff noticed. He wasn't used to being touched like this. Besides Sanji's fits after his nightmares and consoling his men who managed to survive the battle but not much afterwards, he hadn't been this close to someone since he was a child. Even then, no one ever reached out to him, curling up beside him the way Sanji did.

It was oddly comfortable, and Zeff found himself enjoying the affection more than he should. This was something he never could've imagined, not at his age. 

While he never disliked children, he'd never been particularly fond of them either. And as much as he respected women, he never found one that interested him; no men either, so he never imagined settling down with someone, starting a family, not when his first love was cooking. But here he was, with Sanji. And he couldn't deny his growing affection for the boy, even if he was as rude and shitty as most of the grown men Zeff knew and more traumatized and disturbed than any child should be. He couldn't be sure—it was something he'd never experienced before—but Zeff thought his affection must have been something like that a father felt for his child.

It was a troubling thought that was becoming more persistent, and he had no clue if Sanji felt the same, but that was a problem for another time.

Now, it didn't matter. He simply shifted, leaning his own head against Sanji's to reciprocate the touch and imagined the nervous smile on the kid's face that he must've been fighting so hard to hide.

-

Maybe this had gone too far, Zeff realized, far, far too late to do anything about it.

It started simple enough. 

Sanji had always been a fidgety kid, a fact that Zeff and practically anyone who knew him more than an hour could realize. He was never still, always moving, always squirming. And clumsy, too. He was prone to tripping over his own feet, something that their training had made marginally better so far, but Zeff still held onto the hope that he'd fall out of it with age when the rest of his body grew into his long legs.

Zeff didn't mind; truly, he found it more entertaining than anything else to see the boy bounce around the kitchen. It never interfered with his work, Sanji was far too professional for that, but there were times when Sanji's body moved and fidgeted around so quickly Zeff swore his limbs would fly off, and Sanji swore that he'd die of boredom if something didn't change. 

So Zeff came up with a solution. A rather practical one, he liked to think. Instead of twiddling with his fingers or tugging at the strings of his apron or furiously flapping his hands, Zeff, like a practical seaman, taught him how to tie knots. Figured it'd pay off, considering how much of his life the boy spent on a ship.

He'd bring him up to the deck, show him the ropes and give a brief explanation, then show him how to tie every knot just right and send him off with a smaller scrap to practice.

It seemed to help, though they never talked about such things. Sanji simply practiced his knots, asking Zeff when he wasn't sure if he'd gotten it right, and he'd whip it out and practice anytime he got bored, during lulls between the dinner and lunch rush or at night, in bed, when he was trying to fall asleep.

Zeff didn't know how it ended up like this. He'd noticed Sanji's habit, how he'd begun to unconsciously twist strands into his complicated knots, like his apron or the loose fibers on his cheap blanket. It'd escalated fast.

Sanji must've known it would be another bad night, because he didn't bother going to his own room, instead silently teetering after Zeff to stay with him. He didn't like to be alone on bad nights.

There hadn't even been any sign of it, any indication; he simply leveled a heavy stare at Zeff and not asked, ordered him.

"Stay still. I need to try something."

"What are you planning?" He asked warily, recognizing that glint in Sanji's eye that was only there when he got up to mischief, an occasion that was becoming less and less rare.

"Quiet. I need to focus."

Then Sanji was sitting cross-legged in front of him as Zeff sat, back pressed against the headboard. He had to lean down an uncomfortable amount for Sanji to, much to his horror, reach his mustache as he began working on whatever convoluted idea he had.

Zeff wasn't sure what he was doing, as his eyes were firmly closed—and Sanji began yelling at him anytime he so much as tried to peak them open—but it seemed as if Sanji was styling his hair, hands working with a surprising gentleness and expected hurriedness, though it seemed as if his rush ruined his work, judging his heaving sigh every few minutes as he straightened out Zeff's mustache to start over. Always a perfectionist.

It was annoying, like Sanji always was, but Zeff found he didn't mind the intrusion as much as he thought he should. Not that or the tedious ache once again spreading through his back or the feeling of pins-and-needles in his legs that had fallen asleep under Sanji's weight, who sat precariously on top of them.

Perhaps he couldn't complain because he knew what Sanji had been like mere weeks and months before, and that boy never would've afforded Zeff with this casual closeness, one that made an unsettling happiness grow in him, because he knew that they were getting somewhere, that this makeshift ship was becoming closer and closer to the little eggplant's home, and that did, ashamedly, make Zeff happy.

"Okay, I'm done," Sanji finally announced, and Zeff let out a sigh, of relief or disappointment he wasn't sure.

"On with it then," he opened his eyes, this time without any urgent protest from Sanji, and shifted his good leg with a smile too fond for his liking. "Up so I can look."

Something resembling a scowl appeared on Sanji's face, but it was gone just as quickly as he scrambled off of him, rolling onto the side of the bed. Zeff took his time, ignoring Sanji's protests, to stand up, letting feeling come back into his limbs as he stretched before trudging over to his drawers, accompanied with a small mirror hanging above it.

It was about what he'd expected. Zeff's mustache was styled into two somewhat unkempt braids, tied up with his usual blue ribbons. It wasn't half bad, not for the eggplant's first try, and Zeff didn't recall teaching him any braids. He wondered where he'd learned how to do that, but now wasn't the time for questions.

"Right. We done here?"

Sanji's cheeks puffed out slightly, tinged red as his face morphed into a pout. He always did wear his emotions on his sleeve, no matter how much he tried to hide it. Reluctantly, he nodded and stood from the bed. 

Zeff turned out the lamp, settling back down into his bed and sparing a glance at Sanji. "You layin' down or not?"

There was a moment of awkward shuffling, Sanji's head darting back and forth between Zeff's bed and the door, looking as if he wished he had that rope on him to give his body something to do and soothe his mind.

After an uncomfortable amount of time passed, Sanji perched himself at the edge of the bed, slowly laying down, as if he was scared Zeff would change his mind and yell at him to scram.

He didn't. He had an extra blanket and pillow, so he didn't mind at all, though if he had to, he knew he would've given his own to Sanji to make him comfortable—the kid hardly got enough sleep as it was.

"Night," he grunted, then added, far too impulsively, "Didn't do half bad with the hair."

For a moment, he thought he imagined Sanji's muffled sounds of joy, but then he only laughed quietly to himself, thinking about all the trouble this dumb kid brought with him.

Zeff was going soft, and he couldn't bring himself to care.

-

Morning was quiet. Zeff woke up first, squinting at his window, watching the faint rays of light trickle in.

It was early, but he wasn't ready to go back to sleep. Instead, he carefully shifted in the bed, turning on his side to face Sanji. He was still sleeping, lying curled up on his stomach. Zeff didn't realize how much he moved in his sleep, not until Sanji woke him up more than once in the night with a flying limb.

He'd seen him sleeping before. After Sanji had crossed to his side of the rock and discovered Zeff's secret, there was less distance between them. Less reason to hide. And Sanji seemed to, for whatever reason, like the company of bitter old men, apparently as much as Zeff like the company of snarky young kids. But there were some nights when Sanji fell asleep there, with Zeff. He'd moved around too then, violently, thrashing so much Zeff feared he'd fall right into the ocean. He was prone to nightmares then too, but he didn't have any more tears to cry by then, just hiccuping gasps that sounded so painful coming from his dry, aching throat.

He wasn't having a nightmare now. His face was relaxed, not curled up in an aching knot of dread like it usually was. His chest rose and fell with calm, steady breaths. Zeff couldn't see it clearly, not in the dim light, but he heard it, and the noise was a comfort.

Another impulse. That's what Zeff wanted to blame it on. Say that his arm had a mind of its own; that he acted without thinking. He didn't know if that was better or worse than the truth.

But he did know what he was doing. And he wanted to. That was the reason. 

That was the reason he reached his hand out, with a touch lighter and gentler than he ever thought he was capable of, combing through Sanji's hair to fix the disheveled mess.

It was soft and void of any obnoxious clumps, both traits he attributed to Sanji's fixation with his appearance. Just had to look good for the ladies, apparently. Not that any took interest in him. The little eggplant had about as much charm as one.

Hair straightened, his hand trailed further down, rubbing gentle, soothing circles into the back of his neck. It was something he normally only did after a nightmare, when Sanji cried and clung to him, but it seemed appropriate now too. He thought it was good for Sanji. He always slept better when Zeff held him.

Except now. Sanji twitched, and Zeff worried he'd wake him, so he lightened his touch, fingers barely grazing the skin, and that's when he heard it.

A giggle.

The noise was muffled by the pillows, but it was unmistakable in the quiet of his room. Something high-pitched and boyish and utterly unexpected. 

Zeff's hand stilled, staring intently at Sanji. His body was still and breathing steady. He'd heard Sanji talk before in his sleep, but laugh? That seemed odd. Unless it was something else.

Curiously, he continued his light movement, holding back a laugh of his own when he noticed Sanji squirm, twisting back and forth but trying so hard to hide it. 

So he was awake. And Zeff didn't see why he shouldn't have his fun.

He changed tactics, switching to scratching at Sanji's neck, touch still light, using just his blunt nails.

There was another noise; this one was more like a muffled whine, low in his throat and barely contained. One of his arms shifted, trying for a subtly he had never been gifted with, and pushed the pillow further into his face, hiding his wide smile. 

How stupid did Sanji think he was? He wasn't sure he actually wanted to know after this. And if Zeff said something, he knew it'd ruin the moment. He didn't want to.

He didn't, so he continued tickling the boy who he'd become uncomfortably fond of.

His hand drifted, grazing across the side of his neck in a way that made Sanji's shoulders scrunch up. He couldn't contain himself anymore, and soft giggles poured out of him. The kid was oddly cute like this, and that fond feeling he had for Sanji only grew.

Zeff was careful. They'd never done anything like this—he doubted Sanji'd ever even been tickled before—and they were still in a somewhat precarious position surrounding the kid's tolerance for any touch at all. He wasn't one to be playful, but Zeff figured this was the closest he'd ever get as he moved to new spots.

Sanji chortled when he scratched under his chin, and seeming to have given up the act of pretending to be asleep, kicked his legs when Zeff's fingers prodded at his ears. The strongest reaction came when he scribbled at his back—Zeff hadn't even known backs could be ticklish—making an alarmed high-pitched sound that Zeff could only call a squeal, grip around the pillow tightening, trying to hide his embarrassment or laugh or something, Zeff figured.

After a few more moments, Zeff stopped, pulling his hand away and waiting for Sanji to collect himself. It took a long time for his laughter to calm down, but Zeff only watched, unable to help his own amused smile.

Finally, Sanji removed his face from the pillow, looking up at Zeff. His face was completely flushed, and he had a large, dopey smile on his face that Zeff had only ever seen when he was talking to a girl. Dumb kid.

"Um…" Sanji brought the pillow to his chest, hugging it tightly and partially obscuring his face. "What was that?"

"Tickling. Ever happened to you before?"

He shook his head, eyes flitting away from Zeff with a sad look. He was quiet, seemingly lost in thought, and Zeff watched him, waiting for Sanji to gather himself. 

It took a few minutes before he dropped the pillow, propping himself up. There was still a trace of sadness, but there was something else, something Zeff couldn't quite place.

His eyes were big and droopy, fatigue weighing down his lashes and a smile, albeit faint, dragged across his lips. In the quiet of these late nights and early mornings, there was something different about Sanji, more tender. Like the darkness of the sky cloaked them in a veil of security, wrapping around his shoulders and tucking him in with the same comfort of a loving parent.

Leaning closer, a yawn breezing past his lips, Sanji shifted further towards Zeff, mumbling, "'t's nice."

"Guess so," he grunted and, seeing the expectant look on his face, reached back out, curling his fingers into Sanji's side until he burst into another fit of giggles.

Zeff supposed it was quite nice.

-

Sanji, by some miracle, had actually managed to fall back asleep after crying for mercy. 

Zeff wasn't tired, but he stayed, figuring Sanji wouldn't like waking up alone, and there wasn't much work to be done today anyway; he could let him sleep in. He grabbed a book at random from his shelf, biding the time by staring absentmindedly at the pages, his attention always somehow drifting back to Sanji. It was almost annoying, the grip that the kid had on him.

When he did wake up, scolding Zeff for letting them stay in that late and wasting so much of the day as if Sanji was actually the adult. It was stupidly endearing.

Zeff, like always, brushed away his concerns. "Then stop complaining and help me get ready."

"Help?" Sanji asked, indignant, and Zeff sorrowfully remembered what an attitude he had on him. "What do you need now, old man? A diaper change?"

Sighing, he only gestured to his face, watching the confusion spread across Sanji's face and sighing again. 

"The braids," he huffed, untying the ribbons. "They need to be redone."

Sometime during the night, or perhaps during his horseplay with Sanji, the hair had become wildly unruly, strands unwinding and sticking out at odd angles.

Sanji stared at him for a long moment like he was stupid. Then asked, in an oddly anxious voice, "What?"

"You heard me. Get on with it."

He couldn't bite back his smile. His whole face lit up, and no matter how hard he always tried to hide it, Sanji still always wore his heart on his sleeve, and his joy was infectious. Shuffling closer, he carefully reworked Zeff's mustache, hair now slightly curled, into a neat braid, redoing them both a few times until he was satisfied with his work, staring at Zeff proudly.

It was better than the ones yesterday; Zeff had to give him credit for that.

"Good work, little eggplant," he said, staring at himself in the mirror. "Now you go get ready. It's late."

Sanji, ever the dutiful worker, hurried out, but Zeff caught the blinding smile on his face before he left.

It was worth the odd stares he got from the rest of his crew, and none of them had the courage to say anything after Zeff stared down the first person who'd so much as uttered a word about it.

Unless it was a compliment, which he tolerated in silence only because it brought that bright smile back to Sanji's face, and the kid deserved the praise. 

The day was slow and calmer than Baratie had any right to be. 

There was an odd lightness in Sanji; Zeff didn't know if it was because of him, but he was glad.

And he was even happier when it seemed to persist into the next day and the next. 

They still bickered, of course—the kid—his kid—just had to bitch about every little thing. They spent long days cooking together, sweating and struggling in their somehow always understaffed restaurant. They trained together on those off days, splitting time between cooking and fighting. And in those early mornings, late nights, and all the time in between, they regarded each other with a new softness, with the playful and affectionate touches Sanji had become accustomed to, the ones he craved.

And Zeff, forever worn out by the rude, annoying kid he'd ended up with, always indulged him, his little eggplant.

[st4rb3rries]

the main 4 meeting you for the first time

pairings; stan, kyle, kenny, cartman x fem!reader (all aged up 17-18)

summary; reactions and meeting you

warnings; cussing and suggestive language

a/n; hopefully you guys understand the kyle and stan one😭

how kyle and stan met you:

you met them senior year. they saw your fine ass in class and were like "gawd dayum 😍😍🔥❤️" NAH JK kyle and stan secretly talked shit about you because you were the smartest in class. (they haven't even talked to you once) it was mostly kyle because he was jealous of your academic intelligence.

kyle: "who does she think she is acting like a goody two shoes and she shouldn't even be talking with that big ass forehead her calculations aren't even correct dude i'm totally way smarter than y/n🙄"

stan: "ong bruh like her forehead is bigger than my relationship with my dad😭 and no one can outsmart my super best friend dude🤨"

y/n: ....

like y'all sit close by each other in class and they still have the audacity to talk shit😭. they weren't even slick either you could clearly hear them but they thought you couldn't.

but one day things changed. they were struggling in algebra so you decided to help them. out of the kindness of your heart? no. the teacher told you to help them. this was the moment that would change everything.

y/n: "hi do you need some help it looks like you guys are struggling"

kyle: "no were fine we don't need your help"

stan: "yeah dude you can go away, kyle is way smarter than you we don't need you"

kyle: "yeah that's right i'm smarter than you punk so you can go away now🤓"

y/n: "ok kyle why did you pick 'd' instead of 'c' for number 1🥱"

kyle: "WHAT I THOUGHT IT WAS D HOW COU-"

stan: "DUDE WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TRYING TO MAKE US FAIL"

y/n: "ah look at that so you need my help after all"

stan and kyle: "smart ass"

y/n: "what was that hm?"

kyle: "smart class"

stan: "y-yeah we have a smart class😇"

y/n: "i know you guys talk shit about me don't think your so slick"

stan and kyle: 😮😮

they stopped talking bad about you. since you found out you started "helping" them more and they both started getting to know you better. even though they still had their attitude. and with all that helping there formed a friendship<3.

how cartman and kenny met you:

you also met them senior year. you however only met them because you decided to ditch class and do your business under the bleachers. both of them have seen you in class and they know your smart. they just didn't really care about you though.

*you walk over to the bleachers*

cartman: "oh shit teachers, RUN KENNY'

y/n: "im not a teacher wtf😭 "

they got scared there for a minute. but they weren't anymore until they recognized your annoying voice. cartman and kenny also thought you would never ditch class because your so smart🤨. (they were generally surprised)

cartman: "sorry there's no nerdy bitches allowed😘"

kenny: "you can be my nerdy bitch😏"

y/n: "and that's why your moms should've swallowed both of you when she had the chance."

cartman: 😮

kenny: "HAHAHAH" *bros tryna get into them baggy jeans💀*

cartman: "what the hell are you even doing here"

y/n: "no what are you doing here🤨"

cartman: "ditching class duh you dumb slut🙄"

y/n: "ok tubby well i need both of you to leave"

kenny: "why🥹"

y/n: "don't worry about it"

kenny: "YES MA'AM😍"

unfortunately they stayed because they're nosy as hell. anyways after they both saw you make money by doing peoples homework. they had mad respect for you. cartman was even a bit jealous that you came up with so much money. kenny on the other hand was wondering if you provide other types of services🤔.

cartman: " here y/n take this why don't we talk for a bit"

y/n: "are these crushed up smarties🤨"

kenny: "ya you can smoke em' or snort em' "

y/n: "y'all can't afford the real stuff💀?"

cartman: "so about your services, i'd like to be your manager i can make you stronger and smarter"

y/n: "do you have a gpa of 4.0"

kenny: "does 2.8 count"

cartman: "kenny stfu im tryna make us some money here"

cartman: "anyways so-"

after talking with them you agreed. but little did know that agreement was gonna be a long one. both of them truly admired your hard work and at some point it wasn't about the money. they really just liked hanging out with you😭.

[dreadsuitsamus]

Daddy's Little Secret | Isshin Kurosaki x Reader |

part two

author's note: this idea has been in my head for a good while now, and i've finally decided to write it! there won't be much of a story in this, as i plan each chapter to be a sexual encounter between isshin and reader

pairing: isshin kurosaki x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, no explicit smut but it is sexual and suggestive, masturbation, voyeurism, age gap, reader is a few years older than ichigo

“Are you sure this is okay, Ichigo?” You murmur as he leads you up the pathway of his home, the younger man carrying your bags for you. “I don't wanna just barge in… You haven't even asked your dad if it's cool—”

“Dad’s not gonna care.” Ichigo shakes his head. “He'd rather you stay on our couch than in your car on the street. It's okay. Just trust me.”

Sighing, you follow your friend inside and slip your shoes off politely. Your housing situation has hit a bit of a snag and you're officially, though hopefully temporarily, homeless. Ichigo's to the rescue as always, however, and was quick to give you a warm helping hand, just as he was when you first met him. Being a bartender is wonderful, but the drawbacks such as rowdy, creepy drunks tend to call for more forceful measures than your best holler can provide. Luckily for you, Ichigo has a helluva right hook and you've been friends ever since!

Setting your bags down, Ichigo starts a quick tour of the house. You've met his family before, as the bar you work for is also a restaurant, but you've never been to the Kurosaki household. It's surprisingly well-put together despite the chaotic relationship of Ichigo and his father, though it's likely due to Ichigo's younger sisters, if you had to guess.

“My dad's not home yet, but he should be here soon with my sisters.” Ichigo murmurs as he grabs some linens from the hall closet; tonight the couch will have to do for him, as he's a gentleman and will absolutely give up his room for you, but he'll arrange to stay with his sweet girl Orihime for a little while starting tomorrow. He's not looking forward to it: how his father naps on that lumpy, uncomfortable old couch so easily is a mystery!

“Thank you, Ichigo.” You murmur softly. “I'll try to get out of your hair soon.”

Your friend merely waves a hand and sets the sheet and blankets on the arm of the couch before grabbing the remote and turning the television on. The mind-numbing cartoon isn't performing for you, however, as your heart thrums in anticipation. Ichigo's father, Isshin Kurosaki, doesn't seem like he'd mind your presence, but the worry remains. You know you'd certainly have some feelings about such an unexpected guest!

Your poor heart nearly pops when the sound of voices at the front door get louder upon entry, and Ichigo stands to meet his family, lest his father say or do something embarrassing before you've even been announced. Yuzu rushes to her older brother's arms as Karin spots you, perking a thin brow. Ichigo doesn't tend to bring friends home, especially not since he started college.

“What's up?” She cuts her eyes to her older brother, and Ichigo explains more to Isshin, who is oddly quiet, rather than Karin.

“She needs a place to stay for a little while.”

Isshin nods, turning to look at you. He's as handsome as ever, his stubble grown out a tad more than it was the last time you'd seen him at the bar, and his smile is gorgeous and polite, though you can't escape the feeling of it being more muted than you're used to. “Stay as long as you need to. Any friend of Ichigo's is always welcome here.”

“Thank you, sir.” Your cheeks warm, relief washing down your shoulders. Gazing at your wrist to check the time, you sigh softly. “I’ve got to get ready for my shift tonight.”

“I'll walk you to your car.” Ichigo offers, and waits patiently as you wash up and change into your uniform. Isshin settles onto the couch beside his only son, thumbing at the stack of linens to be used for his temporary bed tonight.

“You know I don't mind taking in your friend.” He starts, voice low in the event you come downstairs and overhear him. “I just would've appreciated a heads up.” Unsaid is that he would've used that advance notice to fix his hair up before you saw him, and perhaps undone a button or two on his shirt.

“Sorry, Dad.” Ichigo murmurs. “Her roommate dropped the bomb on her last night that she had to leave. We spent all day moving her things to a storage unit.”

Isshin rubs at his chin, gently tugging at the bit of stubble. He's gotta shave tonight, he thinks. “You givin’ your room up?”

“Yeah.”

Isshin claps his hand on his son's shoulder. He's raised a good man, one that he's incredibly proud of! He squeezes for a brief moment before pulling away just as you come downstairs, dressed in your simple work uniform. High-waisted jeans and a t-shirt with the bar’s name splashed over the front and tucked into your waistband make for a pretty sight, especially with the low cut that provides Isshin with a hearty eyeful of cleavage. It's what deters him from visiting your bar more often; his daughters don't need to see how much their pervy father longs to faceplant in between your breasts.

Ichigo and his father stand and your eyes flit to gaze at the older man. “I’ll be back around 2:30. I'll be quiet, I promise!”

“You couldn't wake Dad if you tried.” Ichigo deadpans. Isshin's cheeks warm at your giggles, and he tackles Ichigo to the ground. Embarrassing his own father right in front of an absolute babe??? Unforgivable!

“Dad, come on!” Karin shouts, scrambling to intervene now. With a guest over??? Her dad has lost his mind!

Grinning softly at the madness, Karin having been sucked into the wrestling while Yuzu rushes in with a broom to smack at them all, the heels of your boots click on the hardwood as you head for the door. Your stay here certainly won't be dull!

With a sigh, you tiredly park your car outside of the Kurosaki home. Work was rough, and nothing sounds more wonderful than a hot shower and some rest, and maybe even a sandwich if you can stay awake long enough.

You're met at the door by Isshin, who presses a gentle finger over his lips as the sounds of Ichigo's snores ring out. Laughing softly as the older man winks, you slip your boots off at the door. “You're up pretty late.”

“Insomnia.” Isshin shrugs casually and follows you up the stairs, shamelessly staring at your ass the whole way up. “Heard your car pull up. Wanted to make sure you got in safely.”

“Ah.” At the top of the landing, you pause for a moment with Isshin just across from you, his henley and plaid pajama pant combo somehow striking. Perhaps batting your lashes more than you should be at a friend's father, you lick your lips, teeth slowly dragging along the flesh of your bottom lip. “Thank you, Mr. Kurosaki.”

“Isshin. After hours, anyway.” He tucks his hands in his pockets with a shrug, perking a brow at the embarrassing admission from your stomach. “Hungry, hm?”

Cheeks fiery and the tip of your nose and ears burning, you duck your head. “Mm… A little. Ichigo and I had some lunch earlier, but that's all I had to eat. Besides a few fries at the bar, anyway.” And an iced coffee to start the morning!

Isshin shakes his head. “Girl dinner.” He grumbles with a scoff and an eye roll— he's treated too many women that hardly eat at all and then complain about headaches! Turning to start back down the steps, Isshin waves a hand. “I’ll warm up the dinner leftovers.”

Covering your mouth to hide a giggle, you venture into Ichigo's bedroom and rifle around your messily packed suitcases for a fresh pair of panties and pajamas. Exhaustion weighs down your bones and a big yawn leaves you damn near spent, though you power through enough to grab a thong and a tank top to get you through the night. Everyone should be out of the house by the time you wake up to start your day, so the worries of anyone catching a peek of your cheeks don't settle.

Rubbing your tired eyes as the shower warms, you sigh with pleasure as the hot water spreads and soothes the ache between your shoulders. Life has been nothing but stressful lately, this recent move only the cherry on top the shitshow mountain. College is hard, work is unfulfilling and the tip money only barely covers the bills, and your sex life has tanked.

Thinking about sex as you run the soapy washcloth over your breasts probably isn't the best idea, but it doesn't stop your other hand from the pinches and tugs of your nipples to relieve some of the pressure. Leaning against the shower wall, your teeth dip into your lip as your fingers do a bit of walking. It's nothing but a tease, a shallow dipping of your fingers to feel the wetness gathering between your folds. A few soft, breathy gasps pass beyond the thin curtain that veils you, but the man with perceptive brown eyes in the hall pushes the door open just a tad wider than you'd left it to peer into that gap.

Isshin smirks softly, licking his lip as he watches you touch yourself. He's wanted a piece of you since he first saw you, as forbidden of an idea as that is. You're his son's friend! He can't. Even if you wanted to, and he thinks you do, it can't happen. That's a line he can't cross… He's too old for you, anyway.

Though as he watches you slowly rub your clit and toy with your breasts, he's sure that this old dog could show you the best night of your life. With a wistful sigh and a firm squeeze to his cock, Isshin heads downstairs before he's caught perving and fixes your plate of dinner properly.

Biting your lip through a grin, you're quickly out of the shower and drying off before Isshin's back upstairs. Of course that old man's the type to peep in on a young woman's shower! You laid the trap and he walked right into it— what a typical doofus of a man.

You've just slipped into your thong when you hear Isshin moving upstairs again, and you purposely ditch the tank top in favor of looping the towel over your shoulders, your breasts just barely covered by the blue cotton as Isshin turns the corner with a warm plate of food in hand and heads for Ichigo's bedroom.

Two gentle taps of his knuckle on the bedroom door are all you get before he's letting himself in, and for a moment he falters at the sight of you. He really should have taken that melatonin tonight… You're before him in a skimpy thong with only a teeny tiny towel over your breasts, and he has to act like he's fine. Like he's not ready to pounce and pound you into pure oblivion. He can't.

This being a father thing is so damn difficult!

Finding the pause cute and the dumb look on Isshin's face even cuter, you smirk gently and approach him with a swish in your hips. His Adam's apple bobs when you're so close to him he can see the few beads of water on your collarbone, and fuck he wants to lick them away and leave a bite or two…

“Something on your mind?” You practically purr at him, and aren't you just awful! Flirting with your friend's father, the one with a dead wife and three kids he's had to raise by his lonely…

Carefully, the man licks his lips and forces himself to look you in the eye, and frankly he's not sure if that pretty face is making his little problem in his pants any better. “No.”

Reaching up, the backs of your fingers gently graze over the side of his face. “That's a shame… Would've loved to hear all about it. I'm sure you've got some… Interesting ideals.”

A growl forms at the back of Isshin's throat, low and deep and the glint in your eye at the sound just makes him want to tug that towel off and—

Well, now you've gone and done that part for him.

Dropping the towel to the floor, you rub Isshin's jaw, his beard noticeably trimmed down to the way he usually likes it. “You shaved. It looks nice.”

“Just nice?” Isshin sets the plate on the desk, his fingers itching to touch your supple skin as he loops them around the thin bands of your thong, his thumbs rubbing the silky fabric. “Not sexy? Ravishing, even? How about a place you'd like to sit?”

A chuckle bubbles in your chest alongside the fireworks going off inside. The door's wide open and it's three in the morning, any of his kids are liable to get up and use the bathroom at any time! Pressing your hands to his chest, you find him firmer than you thought he'd be. “What makes you think I need something like that from you?”

Isshin clicks his tongue, snapping your thong against your skin as you softly push him away. “My bad for assuming. I just thought with, you know, the way you touched yourself in the shower that you've been a bit pent up.” With a wink and a shit-eating grin, Isshin's closing the door behind him and heading back to his bedroom.

Goosebumps litter your body, and that sly little smile doesn't leave your lips even after you've finished eating and settle in for bed. It's been one night and you've already nearly fucked your friend's father— it's not a matter of if now. Just when.

And will you be able to hide it from Ichigo?

[fairysluna]

SINNERS — Chapter 4

After Maegor finds out his beloved niece is to be wed with her own brother, he absolutely loses his mind. He can't just let her go.

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

PAIRING – Maegor I Targaryen x Fem!OC.

SUMMARY – A year has passed, Maegor's lies are exposed as Aenelys overheard a conversation and they both found themselves in a discussion that was interrupted by an unexpected visit and terrible news..

TW/TAGS – targcest (uncle/niece), age gap, angst, smut (humping, praising), cursing, maegor being his own warning, mentions of death, hurt/comfort, manipulation. if something is missing let me know!!

NOTE – finally i managed to sit and write for this, I'm sorry if it's not perfect, but I'm still struggling with my writer's block.😫 hopefully you'll like this!! pls enjoy🤍✨

WORD COUNT – 5.0k

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤenglish is not my first language.

Maegor was unable to take his eyes out of her. His hand found its way to her back, caressing the soft skin beneath his calloused fingertips. His little princess was exhausted after last night, which finished with her limbs shaking and her beautiful doe eyes covered by tears. 

Aenelys had been behaving these past year, and Maegor was pleased with it. As long as he made her believe he was hers, nothing could go wrong. He was smarter this time; hiding his mistresses in brothels while her princess remained oblivious of his acts, waiting for his return and opening her soft legs to him because she was getting obsessed with the pleasure he could provide to her.

He was no fool, not at all. He knew there was no way he could be inside her without getting her with child, and that was no good for his plans… he needed her a maiden, he could not allow her to breed a bastard, not when her title and prestige were at risk. Those were two things he needed from her, her title and her legitimate child, but for that he must be patient, wait for the right moment. 

But that does not mean he could not have fun with her in the meantime.

Maegor found himself searching for new methods of pleasure that would work for both, one of his favorites will forever be having her plump lips around him. The first time she learned how to please him with her mouth, she was acting shy and flustered, nervously touching him until he decided to control her movements. Aenelys turned out to be strangely good at this, pleasing him like no other.

"Not even the most expensive whore can suck my cock like you do, my sweet dove," he had told her as he wiped the tears off her flushed face. Aenelys smiled widely, feeling proud after realizing that she was better than anyone. She thought that he would only seek release in her after that… but how wrong she was.

There is no secret that Maegor had some carnal need that needed to be fulfilled, and his wish to be inside some tight, wet walls were too overwhelming to be ignored. This is why, after those times where he could not get satisfied by her touch, he would leave once he made sure she was sleeping, and seek that much needed release with someone else; his dear friend and favorite mistress, Tyanna. 

Ser Draqos knew about his dirty little secret, for he would guard the princess door each night, seeing how her beloved uncle and lover would leave her alone for some common whore. It was hard for him to understand how Maegor, a man who had in his power a woman as sweet and beautiful as the princess, decided to sneak out like a rat in the middle of the night and lock himself in brothels with other women. It was nonsense that only a fool could understand. 

But now Maegor was laying beside her, his big hand on her back as she started to move, her eyes slowly opening as she turned around with a small, sleepy smile. Maegor put his hand around her neck, not squeezing it but leaving it there as a sign of some kind of dominance over her, something that the princess loved to feel. 

"How beautiful you look in the mornings," he whispered, brushing his nose against hers in a strangely soft touch. "Did you sleep well?" 

"I always sleep well with you by my side," she murmurs in response. Maegor smirked, almost hearing the devotion in her voice.

Without saying a word, he pressed his lips against hers in a hungry kiss. Aenelys moaned; the sudden act made her heart flutter, still not getting used to these heated touches that made her limbs go numb. The butterflies on her belly blurred her thoughts as he possesively devoured her lips with a fervor that left her breathless. She squirmed beneath him, so easy to arouse. Maegor knew exactly the effect he had on her, and he knew that if he dared to touch between her legs he would find nothing but her sweet slick running down her thighs. Her flesh begging to be touched.

She sighed as he leaned back, a small string of saliva joining their swollen lips as Maegor's darkened eyes stared at hers with a hunger that made her legs shake. He had woken up with the intention of devouring her in every way, not satisfied with the action that took place the night before. Aenelys felt his hand roaming down her body, a small squeeze on her left breast before he positioned himself between her legs, spreading them open for him to see all of her. 

She blushed, looking at him with those beautiful eyes that screamed innocence - or at least what was left of it. Maegor growled, his fingers involuntarily touching her soaked folds as she mewled beneath him, her hips moving upwards as she searched for more of his touch. 

"Look how wet you are for me, my sweet doe," he mumbled, towering her body as he leaned forward, a shadow casting over her petite frame and hiding her from the sunlight. "And all of this is for me, right?" He asked using that husky tone that sent her into a submissive and pleading state. She nodded as a response muttering a small 'yes' that could be easily mistaken with soft gasps. 

Maegor, discontent with that answer, put his hand back around her neck and squeezed it. Aenelys purred under his touch and a smug grin appeared on her uncle's lips. 

"I made you a question, princess," he murmured as he brushed his nose against her cheek. "Answer me." His low voice caused chills down her spine, making her pearl throb with excitement.

"It's- it's all for you," she replied in a sigh, her voice thin and weak as he pressed himself against her. His length felt the warmth of her folds and a groan left his lips as she moved her hips, starting to hump on him. 

"Good girl…" he sighed.

Maegor then started to move as well, his hips meeting hers in slow but hard movements that made her whine. His hardness rubbing against her swollen bud almost made her eyes roll, her hands holding onto his shoulders at the same time he kissed her. The muffled noises of their passion were echoing in the room. 

"I can't wait to be inside you, my dear," he whispered against her lips, "I bet you would feel so good around my cock, squeezing me with that tight cunny of yours." 

His words did nothing but to increase her arousal, her cheeks turning red as her mind flooded with images of him claiming her as his. Her mouth dropped open with a whine, her clit throbbing as he used his free hand to press himself further into her soaked flesh. Aenelys closed her eyes, her back arching as his grip around her neck tightened even more. 

"Does it feel good, byka mēre?" Little one. That bloody nickname sent waves of heat all over her trembling body as she whimpered a response. "Are you going to cum? I can hear how wet you are, love… So needy for me." 

She felt the knot of her lower belly starting to form, searching for that needed release as his name fell from her lips like a sacred prayer. After he let go of her neck, his lips wrapped around one of her sensitive nipples, licking and sucking the delicate bud as she frowned in pleasure and her whole body shook. The stimulation between her legs, plus his hungry mouth roughly working on her breasts, made her see stars behind her eyelids, her limbs shaking as her cries of pleasure became louder. 

Aenelys fell apart beneath his thick frame, crying his name as she reached her overwhelming climax. Her breathing was fast, ragged. Her eyes closed as he kept moving trying to find his release - which was far to come. 

After a few seconds, Maegor kept going in an useless attempt to feel that knot in his gut. The stimulation was not enough for him, and the frustration was growing inside him, losing his patience. Aenelys started to cry even louder, the overstimulation being too much that it became a bit painful. Maegor groaned.

He let go, trying to use his hand but it was still not enough. Aenelys saw his struggle and she tried to make things better as she noticed how his patience was hanging from a thin thread. 

"I can… I can use my mouth-" 

"Be quiet," he snapped at her as he stood up, lurking for his clothes around her chambers. 

Aenelys covered her nudity with the thin sheets of her bed, staring at Maegor as a tiny feeling of inefficiency filled her chest, almost making her cry. It was not the first time this would happen, and even when she would offer to please him in other ways, he would grab his things and leave her room… just like he did this time. 

The princess felt a slight pain in her heart as she was left alone, trying to convince herself that the next time will be different. Trying to convince herself that he went to the training yard instead of a brothel. 

Though she was not very sure of that. 

A few minutes later passed before one of her loyal maids entered her room, preparing a warm bath for her. Aenelys found herself relaxing in the water while Henela washed her hair. The princess had been unable to focus on anything besides what happened with Maegor, she wondered what she could do to be better for him, to please him and leave him satisfied. 

"Are you still a maiden, Henela?" The princess suddenly asked, the lady almost blushed at the question. 

"Uh… no, princess, I'm not," she hid her nervousness behind an awkward giggle. 

"So you know how to properly please a man, right?" Aenelys asked again without shame. She turned around looking up at the flustered maid, the curiosity shining through her eyes. 

"Well, there's many ways to please a man," Henela explained, going to search for the princess' robe. "You can use your hands, or your mouth-"

"I have done those things-"

"Have you?" She interrupted with surprise. 

"I have," Aenelys nodded, standing from the tub and wrapping the robe around her body. "But it seems as if they are not enough… Is there anything else I could do to please him?"

The shock on Henela's face was undisguisable. 

"I'm not quite sure what else you can do, those things usually work," she murmured, now feeling a bit embarrassed. "Has he ever… been inside you?" 

Aenelys shook her head, "he does not want to," she sadly said. "He says a princess shall always wait for marriage."

"Is he planning to wed you?" Henela curiously asked. 

"Yes," she nodded excitedly, "Though I'm not quite sure when, but I know we will get married someday…" Henela felt a tingle of pity on her chest after seeing her dreamy eyes and knowing the truth about Maegor. "He gave me this necklace when I was sixteen," Aenelys said as she grabbed the pendant hanging around her neck, "I think he gave it to me as a promise…" 

"Pardon me for my intrusion, my princess, but is he not already married?" Henela asked. 

Aenelys smile trembled a little and she shook her head, as if she was trying to downplay the situation she was in. 

"Oh, yes, but here we're free, and we can get married even if he's married in Westeros, can we not?" she shrugged, still with a soft smile on her face that was so hard to watch for her maid. "Besides, Ceryse does not love him, not like I do. He deserves a good wife, someone who can give him what he wants."

"What does he want?" 

"A child!" Aenelys excitedly said. 

"Oh…" she simply said.

"How lovely would it be to be carrying his child," Aenelys murmured, standing in front of the mirror and placing her hand on her belly. "But firstly, I need to know how to properly please him. Is there any advice?"

Henela sighed, "Men usually like it when women take control or seem to be confident in the marital bed," she explained, "for that you need to be on top, riding him."

"Like a horse?" 

Her maid giggled softly, "not quite, but the movements are rather the same. Moving your hips in circles or back and forth, it drives them crazy." 

"Does it?"

Henela nodded.

"Please, also remember that men like to hear your pleasure, so you have to be loud, but try not to be too obvious about it or they will know you are lying." 

"That is a bit confusing," Aenelys giggled. Henela laughed too.

"Men are complicated, my princess, but if there is something that can keep them interested is a good sexual companion… I'm sure Prince Maegor would be rather infatuated once he gets to bed you." 

"You think?" Aenelys blushed. 

"Definitely, my princess," she nodded. "Sometimes we can get them to do as we please by just opening our legs, they always think with their cocks."

"Henela!" She gasped, laughing at the word she used and slightly blushing. It was not very common for her to hear a lady using that term.

"It is the truth!" Henela giggled, making her sit in a chair in order to brush her hair. 

"I think the fact he's waiting for me is the purest act of love," Aenelys murmured, her silly smile and dreamy eyes coming back to enlighten her face. "The fact that he stopped seeing his whores is proof that he actually loves me, right?"

The way the princess smiled made her feel pity again; she could only ask for the truth to be out. She simply nodded, hiding the guilt behind a soft look in her eyes. Henela had a special spot for the princess, and she was not going to be the one telling Maegor's little secret and eventually breaking her heart. 

A few hours later she was walking towards the dining room to break her fast. A freshened look on her face as she had taken a hot bath and had her braids done by Henela, leaving any trace of sadness behind after what had happened inside her room. She kindly smiled at everyone who crossed her path; the princess had known how to win every servant's heart, which is why they would always give her pity glances as she walked - they knew what her beloved uncle did behind her back. No one dared to say a word, everyone was too afraid of the Prince to even think about confessing his lie. 

Everyone but Draqos, who was standing in the hall being threatened by a very angry Maegor. Aenelys found them, slowing her pace and quietly approaching the corner to spy. She was able to see her uncle's back and Draqos' face under the sunlight. She frowned, noticing how her loyal guard was visibly mad, his eyes throwing daggers at the man in front of him as they seemed to have a not so friendly conversation. 

She was not able to hear clearly, but her heart ached when she heard his last words before he left: "Consider yourself dead if you dare to tell her about this."

Aenelys frowned, her confused expression being plastered in her face as she leaned back in the wall trying to make sense of what Maegor had just said. That is when a hand was pressed on her shoulder, a touch so gently and caring. Draqos looked down at her lilac eyes, and with a single glance he knew that he had heard part of the conversation.

"What did he mean?" she asked softly, trying not to jump into conclusions. 

"Princess, you shouldn't have heard that," Draqos sighed, almost looking ashamed.

"But I did," she firmly replied, "what did he mean?" she repeated, her eyes never leaving his as she was forcing him to answer her. "I demand you to tell me what is going on."

The inner struggle was obvious in his eyes as he immediately looked away, unable to resist the temptation to tell her the truth if he was staring at her. Aenelys silently pleaded for an answer. 

"He will not hurt you if you decide to speak to me," she told him, softly speaking in an attempt to make him talk. "I will make sure you are safe, I promise."

With that, Draqos was easily convinced. His sweet princess was begging for an answer and he was not going to be the one to deny her of it. He would never deny her anything.

"I'm afraid the prince has been seen occasionally escaping during the nights, and sometimes during the days," he started, his voice somewhat soft as if he was trying to make everything less painful. "He visits the brothels almost every week, seeking companionship in the arms of a courtesan named Tyanna." 

Aenelys pressed her lips into a thin line as she took in the heartbreaking news of the not so unexpected treason. Draqos got a bit worried when he did not see sadness in her eyes; he saw anger. Her soft, doe eyes turned into flames as she imagined that woman touching what belonged to her. 

"How long has this been going on?" she asked. 

Draqos took a deep breath, "it has never stopped, my princess." 

She sighed, a shaky sigh that almost broke his heart. 

"I need you to promise me something, Ser Draqos," Aenelys softly spoke as she took a step closer and looked up at him. Their closeness would not be well seen if someone walked in, but he was not going to be the one to push her away. 

"Anything," he whispered, his deep brown eyes looking at her lilac ones with a devotion she wished to see in Maegor. 

"You are my protector, you sworn yourself to me when we first arrived here," she said as she grabbed his hand. "I do not want just your protection. I want your loyalty and sincerity. Do not lie or hide things from me again." 

"Princess-"

"Promise me," she demanded. 

"I promise you," he answered without missing a beat, not even doubting himself. "My princess, I will always be loyal to you… Until my last breath." 

Aenelys nodded, taking in his words and closing her eyes when he leaned to kiss her forehead, his lips lingering there longer than they should have; it brought some sense of peace and calmness. The princess muttered a small 'thank you', before she took a step back and looked at the floor, as if she was avoiding his stare. She excused herself before her expression hardened again and she walked away from him.

With a single glance to her determined steps, he knew where she was walking to, so he walked behind her just to make sure she would be safe. 

Aenelys reached for the door and pushed it open, hard enough to disrupt the calm environment that had been established in the dining room. Maegor frowned as he looked at her, the sign of dried tears in her rosy cheeks immediately worked as a warning that something was not right, and the realization hit when Draqos stood behind her.

"Leave," she ordered to all the servants that were staring at her with curious eyes. Everyone left, except for Draqos. "You too," she told him.

"Princess-"

"Go," she interrupted him. Draqos doubted for a second, staying still while giving quick glances to Maegor; he did not trust him. However, he eventually turned around, reluctantly leaving the room.

Aenelys saw Maegor leaning back in the chair; his legs spreaded, his jaw moving as he was eating while a small grin appeared on his face. She knew he was going to tease her, a daring provocation in order to make her explode; she tried not to get caught up in that, but her feelings were all over the place, her heart was beating too fast and the ache in her chest did not seem to cease. 

"You lied to me," she murmured, trying to make her voice not break. 

"Did I?" 

"You did!"

"Ah…" he scoffed, drinking from his tea as if she was not falling apart in front of him. "When did I lie to you, darling?" 

"You are fucking a whore, Maegor," she mumbled, wiping a rebel tear as she looked to the floor. A small tsk was heard from his side.

"Well, that's the thing, little one." He stood up, and he slowly started to approach her. "I do not remember telling you I'd stopped fucking whores. It is not a lie if I never said it, is it? You just assumed it." 

There was a silence where Maegor reached for her face, cupping her cheek with his hand as his thumb wiped the tears away. It was a gesture so delicate and soft that it almost made her sigh; her eyes closed, her lips parted slightly, and her heart skipped a beat. It brought some calmness to the turmoil of feelings inside her chest. His softness, that was hardly ever shown, made her almost melt into his touch once again, but then his own voice made her wake up from the trance he had put her in.

"Who told you?" 

That mere question brought her back to reality. She thought about how many people knew about it for him to ask such thing. She thought about how ridiculous she must have been seen by the servants that already knew about it, for she would never hide her undying loyalty and devotion to him. 

She pushed his hand away from her, taking a step back as the anger consumed her once again.

"No one did!" she replied, raising her voice. "You really think I was never going to find out about this?" 

"My sweet doe," he softly spoke, trying to calm her down. "You need to understand that a man has needs-"

"I'm the one who should be satisfying your needs!" She yelled. "I'll be your wife, I will marry you, not her!" She spat the last words with utter disgust.

He took a deep breath, slowly starting to lose his patience. 

"I know that very well," he whispered, taking a step closer. "But there are different kinds of pleasure that you cannot provide me with. You know that." 

"I do not care!" She yelled again, this time pushing him away. Maegor was taken by surprise, and he almost lost his balance. Pure shock on his eyes as he saw her unexpected outburst. "I can be all that for you if you only give me the chance!" She whined. "I'm right here, uncle! I'm yours, and I will always be yours. Why can you not understand?!"

His anger was immediately shown as he unexpectedly wrapped his hand around her jaw, digging his fingers into her flesh - strong enough to make her stay still. Her eyes widened in surprise, a slight panic running through her eyes as she saw the rage written all over his face. She whined, now out of pain. 

"You cannot understand simple things, can you?" He muttered so close to her face that she was able to feel his hot breath against her lips. "Is your brain so small that it cannot comprehend anything? You think I haven't fucked you because I do not wish for it?" He scoffed. "Oh, you silly little thing. I could spread your legs and bury my cock on that needy cunt of yours right here if that is what I want, but I won't; because I'm smart, and I'm patient, you know why? Because I could easily fuck a bastard into you." Those last words were spat with rage, the kind of feeling he had never felt with her up to this point.

He was wondering how she could not understand what he had been explaining to her for months. Her obliviousness to certain things made him furious.

"Is that what you want?" He continued, tightening his grip. "A bastard is a weapon against maidens as you, something they can use to steal your rightful position in the throne, is that what you want? People calling you the whore princess because you opened your legs to someone who's not your husband? Don't act stupid, I know you are more clever than that."

He let her go, and she stumbled backwards as she touched her jaw trying to soothe the tingling pain that was left there. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down as he stared at her teary eyes. Maegor then approached her again, two of his fingers lifting her chin forcing her to meet his eyes.

"Listen to me, my love," his tone changed, returning to be the soft and gentle one he would always use with her. "You want to feel me inside that tight cunny of yours? You want me to breed you until your womb is filled with my seed? That is fine, and you'll have all of that…" he made a pause, appreciating the red on her cheeks produced by his words. "But for that you'll have to wait until we marry. Is that clear for you?"

She nodded, reluctantly.

"Answer me," he demanded. 

"Yes…" she replied in a thin voice, and he smiled pleasantly.

"That's a good girl," he muttered before he leaned and left a soft kiss on her forehead. A chill ran down her back, a sense of uneasiness settled in her chest. She remembered Draqos giving her the same gesture, and causing the complete opposite emotion. "Now… this is the last time I will bear one of these tantrums, do you hear me? I will not forgive you again."

She was about to answer, but the door was suddenly open and Draqos walked in. He noticed the marks on her jawline, he saw the tears in her eyes and the way she looked away from him, avoiding any eye contact. He clenched his jaw as he bowed in front of them, wanting nothing to scream at Maegor for hurting such a delicate maiden like her.

He hid his rage towards the prince as a serious semblance was drawn in his face, clearing his throat before he made his announcement.

"Prince, Princess… The Dowager Queen is here," he informed. 

Aenelys looked up at Maegor, trying to find the same surprise on his face, but he remained nonchalant to the words of the knight, almost as if he was expecting his mother to arrive. 

Before Aenelys could express her confusion, Visenya entered the dining room, dressed with her riding attire and wearing an unreadable expression on her stern visage. The princess noticed how her eyes scanned her body, her expression slightly changing when she noticed the marks on her neck, but returning to be a hard look when she paid further attention to the marks that were left by her son's tight grip.

"Mother," Maegor greeted her, bowing before her and grabbing her hand to kiss the back of it. "What brings you here?"

"I'm afraid I've come all this way to inform you both of something not very pleasant," she started, her voice low and almost lacking any emotion. Visenya turned to look at Aenelys and she sighed as she grabbed her hands; it was at that moment that the princess felt her heart skip a beat. "Is your father, princess," Visenya sighed.

"My father?" She asked with slight confusion. 

Visenya looked at her son before looking back at the girl in front of her.

 "The King unexpectedly died last night in Dragonstone."

She felt the tears clouding her eyes, her nose itching and that agonizing feeling on her chest. She covered her lips with her hand as a sign of shock and disbelief, feeling as if the world had fallen on her shoulders and the weight of guilt was pressing against her chest, causing her to breathe rapidly and unevenly. Aenelys looked at Maegor, whose face was lacking any surprise - she was too shocked to recognize the mischievous glint on his devilish eyes. 

"How… How did it happen?" she managed to speak between deep breaths and sobs. 

"The war weakened him," she explained. Aenelys was taken aback by this new information. 

Information that Maegor already knew and decided to hide from her.

"What war?" Aenelys asked again.

"The war with the Faith Militant," she explained, "The High Septon took your disappearance as an offense, for his niece is Maegor's legitimate wife. People in King's Landing are accusing your father of promoting this relationship between you both, and they raised against his reign." 

Her dress suddenly felt tighter, the difficulty to breath making her gasp as the tears fell down her cheeks. Her eyes looked at Draqos, the despair and desperation was clearly visible in her face. He took a step forward, but Maegor grabbed her first. The princess buried her face on his chest while his hand went to her hair, cooing against her ear while she uncontrollably sobbed, soaking his shirt with her tears. 

Suddenly, the entire discussion with Maegor was easily forgotten, for the pain in her heart was bigger and almost unbearable. The guilt making it impossible for her to calm down.

"Your mother and siblings are waiting for you in Dragonstone for the funeral," Visenya informed her, "King's Landing and the Iron Throne are now empty…" 

Aenelys thought it was quite odd the way she pronounced those kasts words, but her mind was too blurry to even try to process them. Maegor, however, found himself understanding the message between the lines, and he held her close to his chest and gave a soft nod to his mother. Things had never been clearer.

It was time for him to take what was rightfully his, claim his position as King of the Seven Kingdoms, and make Aenelys his queen.

Everything went exactly how he wanted.

BOLD MEANS I COULDN'T TAG YOU.

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[satansamwriting]

The sleeping headcanons were so cute <3 Can I get hcs of Sub-Zero (and other characters of your choosing) with a gn s/o that can manipulate metal?

Mk Sub-zero with an s/o that can manipulate metal

Hello! I'm glad you enjoyed the sleeping headcanons, I might do other characters if people ask for it. ^^

I'm sorry it took me a while to finish this headcanon, had some stuff to deal with irl. Anyway, I did not know which sub-zero you wanted between Bi-Han or Kuai Liang so I went with my favorite icy boy.

Sadly, I did not write about another character because as you'll see, this headcanon is quite long. I wasn't sure at first how to write someone with the ability to manipulate metal but as I started to write, i got more and more ideas. Hopefully, you'll enjoy the way I decided to go.

I might even continue this in a part 2 or do other characters in another post if people are interested.

Anyway, as always I hope you beautiful people enjoy this headcanon and don't hesitate to send request :)

Disclaimer : English is not my native language, there might be mistakes in this. I apologizes for them.Oh and I'm still fairly knew to Mortal Kombat if you could believe it! I don't know everything there is to know about Mk so if I say thing that don't make sense, I do apologies.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

Sub-zero (Kuai Liang)

0o0o0o0o0o0

Ever since you were little, you had the ability to manipulate metal as if it was clay, shaping the element into anything that came into your mind. 

This ability came with a strange connection to the elements.

You could sense which metal was present, or if there were flaws or vulnerability upon touching an object. 

Your reputation as a blacksmith grew over the years, to no one's surprise.

One day, the SF approached you with a deal to work for them.

The idea of helping to protect Earthrealm made you accept the deal

You almost regretted it once you arrived at their camp. 

Too much bad quality metal could be found in the soldiers gears and weapons. 

You were astonished that some of those men and women wore what you would consider scrap. 

Sadly, even as you voiced your concern to the higher up you were supposed to report to, they seemed to ignore you. 

Create weapons and gears for them with the provided materials.

That’s all you were supposed to do.

You met Kuai Liang as you stomped off the tent. Bumping into him by accident, you kept on walking too pissed off to acknowledge the cryomaster.

You were determined to show those assholes how right you were.

Kuai Liang had heard of you before.

He was intrigued by your ability.

Sadly as busy as he was, he didn’t have the time to seek you out 

Until one day, the two of you met again

Closed off inside their own little forge the special force had the courtesy to give them, (y/n) spent days waiting for the perfect moment to show everyone the mockery of armour they were wearing as protection. A piece of borrowed chestplate laid on a table in front of them. Scattered around the object were sheets of papers each filled with analysis and ideas. It didn’t take long for them to find the perfect metal to use and with the help of one of their secret contacts, they soon found their table filled with titanium ingots.Days changed into nights as they poured their heart and soul into these new sets of gears, making sure they were exact replicas of what the special force was currently using. 

After days of work, news of the Grand Master of the Lin Kuei's visiting spread around the camp. It was said that he was there to train some of the soldiers.Thinking it would be the perfect opportunity, they dusted themselves and carefully put on each piece of the newly improved armour before leaving the forge. 

Droplets of rain fell upon the camp turning the dirt ground into mud. Splashing noise accompanied their footsteps as they marched toward the training ground. Soldiers stepped out of their ways as they went. 

Sounds of fighting grew louder as they approached and soon they could see the men and women duelling each other under the supervising gaze of the Lin Kuei Grand Master. To their pleasure, the soldiers were also wearing their equipment. (Y/n) eyes roamed around those fighting, searching. One man stood out amongst the others. He was cocky and full of himself. Perfect!

Standing on the sideline, they waited for him to finish his current fight. The man ended the other pretty quickly and even had the audacity to brag about how great he was. A glance toward the cryomancer confirmed that (y/n) was not the only one annoyed by him. 

Kuai Liang raised an eyebrow as he watched (y/n) approach the overconfident man. They weren’t part of the training and therefore Liang should’ve asked them to leave. However, the cryomancer was curious about them. Their brief meeting and (y/n) reputation had piqued his interest. He knew of their work outside of the special force but had never seen it first-hand. This was his chance.

“Well well well what do we have here? You came to get your ass kick, blacksmith?”

(Y/n) rolled their eyes as they took a defensive stance in front of the man. Their eyes stared at the chestplate of the man's tactical vest. That was their goal. If it was anything like the one they studied in their forge, that thing was on the verge of breaking.

Unsurprisingly, the man charged toward (y/n) without thinking first. His punches and kicks were easily avoided, offering so many opportunities for (y/n) to touch his chest. Wincing at the poor state of the metal within the protective gear, they backed away.

"You should consider changing that chestplate, it won't protect anymore."

The man scuffed and spat on the ground clearly disregarding their warning. 

Heavy rain settled as the two kombatant circled each other, the world surrounding them long forgotten. As they exchanged hit after hit, the man grew annoyed. Contrary to the others he had fought, they had yet to be defeated. Even more, they seemed to anticipate his every move. In one particular vicious attack, (y/n) placed both their hands on their chestplate and raised them to block the incoming punch. The man’s fist collided with a small shield that had somewhat materialised out of nowhere. Growling, he watched as the shield transformed back into (y/n) chestplate.

From his observing post, Kuai Liang crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes were glued to the blacksmith. They had complete mastery of the fight. In someone else’s eyes it wouldn’t appear so, but as he watched (y/n) avoid yet another punch from the soldier, Kuai Liang knew. The blacksmith could have won this fight early on but for some reason kept going. 

Ducking to avoid a high kick, (y/n) took a handful of mud. One swift sweep kick, they knocked the man down, throwing the mud in his face, blinding him for a short while. 

Swearing left the man’s mouth in plenty as he tried to regain his sight.Distracted, he left his whole chest area unguarded.Using the distraction to their advantage, they landed a powerful punch on the left side of the chestplate.

For a moment, the man stared at them while trying his best not to laugh.Some of the mud slipped down his cheeks.

“Was that the best you could do?”

Standing straight, (y/n) pointed toward his chest, where small cracks started to appear before a large piece of his chestplate fell to the ground. To the man's horror, and amusement of (y/n),  his gear broke down completely. Stunted in place, the man failed to notice them approaching, a knife created by the fallen parts in hand. Only with the pressure of the tip of the knife near his heart did he focus back on them.

"Let it be a lesson for you, your arrogance will get you killed. That and the garbage gears the special force is giving you."

Removing their own chestplate, they threw it toward the soldier.

“If you want to survive in the war, pass by my tent. I will make you real gears that will protect your life.Not like those pretty decorations you soldiers are currently wearing.”

They turned toward the Grand Master, bowed politely and left the training ground. 

//////

Hours later, a line of soldiers was formed outside of the blacksmith tent. Talk about the poor quality of the soldiers' equipment had spread around the camp like wildfires. Soon, even the higher-ups, who had denied their request, had to break and allow the blacksmith the resources they needed. After days of tireless work, every armour and weapons had been updated, leaving them with no more work. 

One cloudless night as (y/n) busied themselves with new weapon design, a man entered their tent. Glancing up from their papers, the blacksmith straightened up and gave the Grand Master a courtesy bow. 

“Grand Master, to what do I own your visit?”

Bowing in return, Kuai Liang looked around, his eyes observing the various weapons, guns and gears scattered across the tent. His face as expressionless as ever focused back on them before speaking.

“ You are a great fighter and a talented blacksmith-'' He started while his fingers brushed over a long spear near the entrance of the tent. “The Lin Kuei could benefit from your talent.”

Silence fell between the two only for it to be broken by laughter. From where they stood, (y/n) tried their best to regain their serious posture as they were a bit worried their laughing would be misinterpreted. 

“My apologies Grand Master-”

“Kuai Liang.” The cryomancer interjected. 

“My apologies Grand Master Liang, my laughing was not to make fun of you. I’m just a bit surprised.”

Leaning against the table behind them, (y/n) crossed their arms over their chest. In the many years they had worked as a blacksmith, they had encountered the Lin Kuei once before. Back then, they didn’t have a specific place to stay and so they had travelled around the world, offering their talent to those who needed it. 

It was during their short stay in China that they met the infamous clan. A blizzard had been raging outside that day, making it almost impossible for them to leave their temporary settlement. To their utmost surprise, a man had walked in unbothered by the bad weather.  He had offered a job, something that had to do with cyborgs or some short. But (y/n) had declined. The man left shortly after, not before threatening them that they were obliged to accept the offer or die. A day later, words of the blacksmith vanishing spread around the village they had stayed in.

However, that was a long time ago.The man standing here before them was different. He was cold but caring, strict yet open-minded and quite frankly handsome.

“You are not the first Lin Kuei to ask for my talent, if I remember correctly the first one was about cyborgs.”

If (y/n) was meant to see the small flinch traversing Kuai Liang's body, they did not mention it. Uncrossing their arms, they laid their hands on the table in order to appear nonchalant. 

“Besides, I thought you guys had trials or something like that before accepting anyone in the clan?” 

The cryomancer hummed, his shoulder relaxing a little as his dark brown eyes stared at them. 

“Would you consider courtship as trial then?” 

Speechless, (y/n) blinked a few times not knowing how to respond to that. Of all the things the Grand Master could have said, flirting was the least expected. Carefully observing Kuai Liang, they noticed the smile the other man was offering them. He seemed pleased by their reaction. Who knew the Lin Kuei Grand Master could be smooth.  

“Are you seriously asking me this?” A smile of their own, they went around their desk and stood before the cryomancer. “Consider me intrigued, Kuai Liang. Besides, I heard the Lin Kuei temple was a sight to behold.” 

(Y/n) had accepted to join the special force to help protect Earthrealm but left to go help reform a clan thought to be lost. Perhaps, along the way, they would find love.

[withlove-amber]

Birthday Wishes

gibbs x reader

(Y/F/F) = Your favorite food

‘Ding!’ The sound of the work elevator rang through the ears of one Leroy Jethro Gibbs. He caught a swift glance at the person exiting the elevator, (Y/N), the newest member of the team. He had to do a bit of a double-take, because he was very much not expecting her to wear what she was wearing. ‘Ding!’ The sound of the elevator interrupted her thoughts about her birthday dinner that Abby was planning. She normally doesn’t wear dresses, but since it was her birthday, she decided to do something different than her normal jeans and a long-sleeve shirt. She had gone shopping with Abby one day, and they ended up in this little shop near a farmer’s market. 

Her eyes immediately went to a sleeveless lilac dress, which was trimmed in gold at the bottom. It hit her just below her knees, and she felt so wonderful from the moment she first tried it on to now. She paired the dress with a white sweater (it’s DC after all, it’s cold!), and some nice white wedges to match her sweater. She had also curled her hair, and tied the two front sections back with a ribbon the same shade as her dress. Needless to say, she felt pretty all morning. ‘Wow,’ Gibbs thought, ‘She looks really pretty today.’ He watched her exit the elevator and walk to her desk, where she found a note from Abby saying to come down to the lab. She said her good mornings to everyone (ignoring everyone's shocked faces), and made her way down to the lab. 

She barely set foot into the lab before Abby attacked her with hugs. “Happy birthday, (Y/N)!” “Thank you Abby!” Abby took (Y/N)’s hand and ran to the fridge where she pulled out a bouquet of flowers in a vase and handed them to (Y/N). She immediately inhaled the whimsical scent they provided. “Thank you Abby, they’re beautiful!” “You’re welcome, (Y/N)! So, any guesses where I’m taking you for your birthday dinner?” “Nope, not a one.” 

When she came back to her desk with the vase of flowers, she found a croissant and a cup of coffee, with a note from McGee and Tony, saying, “Happy Birthday!” with balloons drawn on. “Thank you boys, that was really sweet!” “Of course, (Y/N), we totally remembered it’s your birthday!” said Very Special Agent Tony DiNozzo. The rest of the day went by unbelievably quickly. The team didn’t have a case, so they spent the day catching up on paperwork. (Y/N) did notice Gibbs disappear for a bit after talking to Abby, but didn’t say anything, deciding it was none of her business. 

Right before Abby made her way up to the bullpen, she remembered Gibbs was waiting to give (Y/N) something, so she waited a few extra minutes before heading upstairs. Everyone else had left for the night, so the only ones in the bullpen were Gibbs and (Y/N). “(Y/N),” she heard the familiar voice of her boss call her over. After she made her way over to him, he said “Happy birthday” and handed her a beautiful bouquet of wildflowers. “Thank you Gibbs, they’re beautiful!” She said, inhaling the strong scent they provided. 

Seeing her so happy over something he did, made him want to hold her close and never let go. So, he did just that. When he held her close, the only thing he could smell was her soft vanilla perfume, and the wildflowers. And the only thing she could focus on was the smell of his cologne, the earthy smell of sawdust, and the feeling of herself blushing at the close contact. He was not making the crush she’s had on him any easier. He also didn’t make it any easier by kissing her forehead just as she was about to pull away from his embrace.

The only thing Abby saw as she made her way into the bullpen was a huge smile on (Y/N)’s face, and Gibbs walking to the elevator. “Are those from Gibbs?” Abby asked, pointing to the full bouquet that (Y/N) was holding. “Yeah,” she replied. “Come on, let’s go to your hopefully-awesome-because-the-restaurant-reminds-me-of-you-a-lot-birthday dinner!” Abby said all in one breath. Abby and (Y/N) linked arms as they made their way to Abby’s car. Abby had (Y/N) close her eyes when they got close to the restaurant, to maintain the surprise. “Okay, open your eyes!” (Y/N) opened her eyes, and the only thing she saw was her favorite restaurant that her father used to take her to when she was a little girl. “I love it here, Abby! How did you know?” “I had a feeling. I know you love (Y/F/F), so I went on a quest to find the best in town.” “Thank you Abby!” said the now-smiling birthday girl.

The surprise birthday dinner was awesome and also enormous, each of them ordering 3 plates of food. Before they both knew it, it was time for dessert. In the dessert (Y/N) ordered, came a singular candle. Before (Y/N) could decide on a wish (it’s a tired old tradition, I know), Abby said, “Are you gonna wish for Gibbs to make you smile like that again?” Seeing the way (Y/N) ‘s face turned red, was all the confirmation she needed. Needless to say, (Y/N) had a very happy birthday, and she fell asleep dreaming of a certain silver-haired, steely-blue eyed man.

[incandescentlysomething]

Princess of the Smoke: Prologue

House of the Dragon Season 2

Aemond x TargaryenOC

Chapter Word Count: 1889

Aelinor Velaryon's world has collapsed. Her beloved Prince Aemond has murdered her brother, plunging their realm into war. Now Aelinor faces a choice. Can she sit on the sidelines, ignorant to the chaos that consumes her family, or can she muster the strength of the dragon and fight for her mother's right to the throne.

Aemond has destroyed his world. Now he must accept the consequences of his actions, waging a war for his brother even as his heart lies elsewhere. But how can there ever be peace when the woman he loves is now an enemy to his family? And worse, when she hates him?

This is a sequel to Lady of the Ashes! It follows the events of the show, but is canon-divergent.

The skies were fair today.

All morning, Aelinor Velaryon had listened as the guards and servants whispered of the fair weather and glanced fearfully to the heavens. The storms of the past few days had faded as quickly as they had appeared, taking with them whatever meager protection they had provided.

Almost as soon as the dawn had broken, Dragonstone had come alight with activity. Guards rushed too and fro, preparing for gods know what. Her chambers were next to her half-sisters, and she heard them speaking in hushed tones as they moved through the corridors.

Aelinor had hardly slept since her arrival at Dragonstone, her body too beaten by grief to find anything resembling rest. She sat in her window, staring down the cliff face toward the sea. There was no screen in her window, and the breeze carried the cold sting of saltwater into her chambers. Waves smashed on the rocks, whipped into a frenzy by the lingering storm winds. But already they were calming. Soon there would be nothing to keep the Greens from moving against them, not smashing waves to keep their ships in harbor, no lighting splitting across the sky to keep their dragons in roost.

How cruel, that after such an act of brutality, the heavens themselves had decided to enforce a peace, that they had forced everyone to sit in their misery for days before any action could be taken. But it seemed even the heavens had grown tired of waiting, and now they cleared the way forward.

Lucerys was dead.

There was that same horrible truth, that same dagger in Aelinor’s heart that wracked her body with such agony that she could scarcely breathe. Never again would he tease her, never again would they play cards or share in a biscuit stolen from the kitchens. Her dear baby brother, gone off to be a man, and he had been killed for it. She clutched her robe closer to her body, as if it might keep some of the heartache away. 

Aemond had killed her brother.

The knife in her heart twisted, and Aelinor took in a shuddering breath. What a fool she had been. She had let herself be swayed by Aemond’s pretty words, by his kisses and declarations of love. He had never been loyal to her, and indeed, could never have truly loved her if he would do this. Lucerys was his own blood, more more importantly, he had been hers. For Aemond to do this…it was as though he had driven the dagger into her back himself.

How they all must have laughed at her. Silly little Aelinor, trying to play princess while everyone around her prepared for violence. She had been blind, she had been weak. She had failed Luc, and that was something for which she would never be able to atone.

A mournful screech echoed across the cliff side, but Aelinor barely glanced to the side as Darrax soared into view. No doubt her father had requested that the dragons be set free to fly, their mere presence hopefully enough to dissuade an attack.

Darrax’s obsidian scales glinted as he danced through the sea spray, moving back and forth until his flanks glistened like dark pearls. He let out another cry, one sorrowful enough that Aelinor felt a pang of guilt. No doubt that he could feel her pain, and she had neglected him the past few days, barely able to motivate herself to eat or drink, let alone walk all the way to where he roosted.

Her window faced King’s Landing. Somewhere out there, too far for her eyes to see, Aemond waited. She wondered if he had been reprimanded, if anyone had discovered that he had aided in her escape. She had thought him so gallant, so overcome with love that he had been willing to risk everything to save her. But it had not been gallantry, and it certainly had not been any genuine affection for her. No, it had been guilt. Guilt that guided him to bribe the dragonkeepers and help her flee, guilt that he had felt as he embraced her and let her declare her love for him.

Or perhaps he was laughing too. Perhaps he had returned to the Keep and announced to all how he had slaughtered her little brother, and perhaps he and Aegon had shared a cup as they celebrated.

Though she tried to resist, her hand trailed to her throat, feeling the small sapphire pendant that hung there. She was weak. If she was strong, she would have hurled the pendant into the sea, she would have been eager to be rid of anything that reminded her of Aemond.

But for that one, foolish moment, she had believed that everything would be alright. She had let herself believe in his promises, believe that their love for each other would be enough. 

She had been wrong. She could not love this Prince Aemond. This man who everyone had been right to call a monster. For what else could he be? Aemond Kinslayer. Aemond One-Eye. The monster that everyone thought he was, that she had always sworn he could not be. No, he had proved himself to be exactly as horrible as everyone had said.

Aelinor tightened her grip on the pendant, feeling the sharp edge of the gem cut into the burned flesh of her hand. She wanted her Aemond back. The Aemond who had stood by her side through everything, the Aemond who could never have hurt anyone.

Or perhaps he had always been capable of this, and she was the only one foolish enough to be blind to it.

Gods, sometimes the rage cut so deeply, so suddenly that she felt her heart stutter in response. Aelinor could not recall ever being truly angry, but she now found that, in the moments where her grief and apathy faded, where she was no longer indifferent to the chaos around her or the devastation tearing her heart to shreds, that she was truly, deeply furious. Bitter. Betrayed.

And who did she have to turn to? Her mother, torn to pieces by her grief, who had to wage a war and lead a kingdom as she grieved her child? No, Aelinor could not burden her further. Her sisters, Rhaena who now mourned her betrothed, and Baela who tried to comfort her sister. No, they did not need her burdens either.

For perhaps the first time in her life, Aelinor found herself longing for Jacaerys’ company. They might fight, they might disagree more often than not, but he was her elder brother. She longed for the familiarity of his company. But he was gone too, off to the North to spread the word of his mother’s rule. Doing his part, while Aelinor rotted away in grief.

A knock sounded at her door, but Aelinor did not rise to answer it. A servant would not have knocked, and she hoped that whoever it was would be dissuaded.

But the door creaked open anyway, heavy footsteps entering the quiet of her chamber.

“Daughter.” Prince Daemon’s voice was surprisingly hesitant.

Aelinor tilted her chin toward him slightly, as much acknowledgement as she was prepared to offer.

She had not spoken to her father, not since he had told her of Aemond’s involvement in her brother’s murder. She knew that he prepared their war, that he was perhaps all that held their war effort together.

Did he grieve, she wondered. He had known Luc since they were very young, and while she found her father callous and cruel at times, she did not think that he was without humanity. Perhaps he managed his grief by preparing for an attack, by maintaining his indifference even as everyone else fell to pieces. It was admirable, she supposed, in a sort of cold, removed sort of way. Often she saw him and Caraxes patrolling the coast, a blood red wyrm weaving through the skies.

“I am going to ask you something, Daughter,” He began.

Aelinor turned slowly toward him, her hand still tightly clasping her pendant. She saw her father glance toward it, something undecipherable in his eyes.

“But first,” He stepped forward until he stood by the foot of her bed, only a few feet away from her seat in the window. “I need you to know that when you give your answer, you must mean it.”

Her mouth quirked into a wry smile, the movement hurting her face. “I am not prone to lying, Prince Daemon.”

“Not Prince Daemon,” Both of his hands rested on the hilt of his sword. He stared at the ground, and she saw his jaw clench as he spoke. “I am your father. I have always been your father, even when I have not been here for you to know it.”

Aelinor’s lips parted.

“And your mother…” He took a deep breath. “Your mother needs our strength. She needs us to be for her what she cannot be, in the moment of grief. She needs you to be her daughter, and she needs you to be my daughter.”

“Whatever do you mean?” She asked, even as understanding settled into her bones.

He looked up then, his violet eyes settling on hers, and she felt herself flinch with the familiarity of it. There was pain there, genuine suffering shining behind his eyes, even as he steeled his face into a mask of indifference. Was that so different from what she was doing? Or were they more similar than she would have liked to admit?

The answer to that question was already alarmingly clear.

Aelinor took a deep breath, her ribs creaking at the movement. “Ask your question, Father.”

A very long moment passed, so long that she wondered if he had thought better of it, if he was going to leave without ever asking what was on his mind.

But instead he held out a hand. It was a surprisingly tender gesture, an image that she found to be greatly at odds with who she knew her father to be. He stood before her, his hand outstretched, his palm up, waiting for her. 

“I need my daughter.” Daemon said. “And I need her to be a dragon.”

Aelinor felt the familiar stoke of rage in her heart. How dare he ask this of her? How dare he ask her to withdraw from her grief? It was cruel, it was unkind. She was not him, she was not…

Or was she?

Already she felt the veil of grief slipping away, some scorching and unfamiliar falling into its place. Her family needed her. Her father needed her. Her mother…she needed to do whatever it took to protect her mother.

Aelinor’s hand tightened on the pendant, yanking the chain from her neck in one brutal movement. With the flick of her wrist she tossed it to the ground, watching it skitter under her bed and out of sight.

She reached forward, taking her father’s hand in her own. He did not flinch from the ruined skin of her palm, instead tightening his fingers into hers with a tenderness that nearly disarmed her.

But she would not be disarmed anymore. She was Aelinor Velaryon, daughter of the rightful queen, and she would not be weak anymore.

“What do you need?” She asked.