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briefinquiries · 4 months ago

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Under the Blood Moon | Peaky Blinders | Chapter 1

Tommy Shelby x Reader : Chapter 1

Fic Summary: You came to Birmingham for a fresh start, to bury the past and keep your head down. As a former nurse in the war, you've seen enough blood and death to last a lifetime. But fate (and the Shelby's) have other plans. After stitching Tommy Shelby back together, you find yourself drawn further into their world, a world of violence, loyalty, and power. When Tommy offers you a job, it comes with more than just good pay, it comes with expectations and lines you never planned to cross.

Chapter summary: Seeking a fresh start in Birmingham, you never expected a late-night knock at your door to pull you into the orbit of fa family like the Shelby's. But as you work to save the life of their wounded leader, a buried memory stirs, because this isn't the first time you've stitched up Thomas Shelby.

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: Violence, injury, stitching wounds, mentions of blood, gore, and open wounds, brief PTSD and war flashbacks, alcohol use, and mild language.

A/N: I've decided to give a Tommy Shelby x Reader multi-chapter fic a go. Comments / replies are always so appreciated (and motivating). Thanks for reading!

Birmingham greeted you with coal-stained skies. The air was thick with smoke and iron, clinging to your skin and settling into your lungs like something you’d never quite cough out. It wasn’t warm, and definitely wasn't welcoming. But then, you hadn’t come here looking for comfort.

You had come for a fresh start.

You stood outside the house, studying it carefully. It was small but solid, tucked on a quiet street away from the chaos of the factories. The bricks were darkened with soot, the windows a bit dusty, but the roof was sound, and the door was sturdy. Nothing fancy, nothing remarkable. Just a house.

Your fingers tightened around the key, the cool metal pressing into your palm. You turned it over, studying the familiar scratches, the worn edges.

The house had belonged to your uncle, a man you barely remembered. He had been a quiet, reserved man, a blacksmith who kept to himself. You recalled visiting him once as a child, the memory hazy, clouded by time. You couldn’t even remember his face.

He had left Birmingham years ago, moving out to the countryside, somewhere greener, quieter. Then, he had fallen ill.

About a month ago, a letter arrived. It was short, written in your father’s careful, uneven scrawl. "Your uncle passed away, left the Birmingham house to the family. No other heirs. If you ever need it, the house is yours."

You didn’t think much of it at first. You were busy. Trying to survive in London while out running memories of blood and war. But as the weeks dragged on, as thoughts of the war continued to haunt you, the letter weighed heavier in your mind.

It was an escape… a place to start over.

So you took the key, boarded a train, and came to Birmingham. To this house.

You took a deep breath, the air heavy with smoke and the faint scent of metal. Then, you pushed the key into the lock and turned. The door creaked open, the hinges stiff with age. You stepped inside, the wooden floorboards groaning underfoot.

The air was stale, dust settling in the corners like forgotten memories. The furniture was sparse. In the corner, a worn armchair, a rickety table, a narrow bed in the back room.

It was yours. And that was more than you’d had in a long time.

You closed the door behind you, leaning against the wood for a moment, eyes drifting shut. The house was quiet, almost peaceful.

You let out a breath. Your fingers brushed over the windowsill, the paint chipped and peeling. This place needed work. A fresh coat of paint, a good cleaning. But that could wait.

For now, you needed to figure out your next steps. You had made it to Birmingham. You had the house. But what now? Where were you supposed to go from here?

Your gaze drifted to the bag by the door, still packed with the few belongings you had brought with you. Clothes, a journal, medical supplies.

You had been trained as a nurse during the war, a healer amidst blood and chaos. You still had the skills, the knowledge. And if you were being honest, you needed work. You couldn’t live off of memories and dust. You needed a purpose.

But the thought of returning to the sick beds, to the blood and the wounds… it made your stomach twist. You had seen enough pain to last a lifetime. Still, healing was all you knew. And despite the memories, despite the nightmares, you were good at it.

You thought about finding a clinic, a hospital, maybe even a small apothecary. Birmingham was a big city. Surely there was work to be found.

You just had to keep your past buried. No one needed to know about France, or about the war. They just needed to know you could patch wounds and heal the sick. You took a breath to steady yourself. Maybe you could find work somewhere quiet, somewhere far from the blood and gunfire.

You looked back at the window, watching as smoke curled through the streets outside, people bustling about their business.

You didn’t know anyone in Birmingham. No friends, no connections. Just a house. But maybe that was a good thing. Maybe a clean slate was exactly what you needed.

…

The next morning, you set out with a clearer purpose. The air was thick with the scent of damp streets, the sky an endless stretch of gray, pressing low over the city. Birmingham was loud and alive, a mess of bustling crowds, shouting vendors, and the clang of metal from the factories.

You moved through the streets, weaving between workers with soot-streaked faces and women carrying baskets of bread and potatoes. The city had a pulse, gritty and restless.

You weren’t sure where you were going. Not exactly. But you needed to get a feel for the city, to know what work might be available, to see if there was a clinic, a hospital– something that wasn’t a battlefield.

The small apothecary caught your eye first.

The wooden sign creaked in the wind, the glass windows slightly fogged from the warmth inside. Shelves lined the walls, filled with glass bottles of tinctures, jars of dried herbs, and vials of tonics. The familiar scents– lavender, mint, camphor, grounded you in a way you hadn’t expected.

You picked up a small bottle of laudanum, checking the label, when a voice broke through your thoughts.

"Excuse me."

You turned, finding a dark-haired woman watching you with sharp, curious eyes. She was young, but there was something about her– a confidence, an ease, like she was someone who was used to asking questions and getting answers.

"Could you pass me that bottle?" She gestured to a jar on the high shelf just above you towards something amber-colored and thick, labeled in neat handwriting.

You nodded, reaching up and handing it to her.

"Thanks," she said, turning the bottle over in her hands before glancing back at you. Her eyes flickered over you, assessing. "I’ve never seen you in here before."

Your shoulders tensed instinctively, but you kept your expression neutral.

“Probably because I’ve never been here before. I’m new to Birmingham," you said simply. "Just moved from London."

Her eyebrow arched, her lips twitching with something like amusement. "New, huh?" Her eyes scanned your face again, lingering a little too long, like she was trying to figure out what kind of person you were.

"Yeah," you answered, keeping your tone even. "Looking to get settled in."

She hummed, clearly unconvinced. "You have family in the area then?”

"Used to. Not anymore. But my…" You paused, choosing your words carefully. "My uncle left me his house. Figured I’d put it to use."

The woman’s brow arched, curiosity flickering in her dark eyes.

"Whereabouts?"

You hesitated again. There was something unsettlingly sharp about her gaze, the way she looked at you like she was putting together a puzzle. But you couldn’t think of a reason not to answer. Not yet, at least.

"Small street. On the quieter side of the city, just east of the factories."

Her eyes flickered with recognition, her mouth curving into a half-smile. "That would be on the edge of Small Heath, then." She hummed, her expression thoughtful. "Not many folks live out that way anymore. It’s mostly warehouses and old workshops."

You nodded. "It’s quiet. Suits me just fine."

"Quiet, yeah," she echoed, her voice dipping slightly. Her eyes flicked back to you, sharp and knowing. "Unless you count the factory whistles, that is."

You offered a faint smile. "I’m hoping I’ll learn how to tune them out."

Her lips twitched. Amused. "Must be quite the change. Birmingham’s not like London."

"No, it’s not," you admitted.

"What brings you to the shop, then?" Her gaze flicked to the bottle of laudanum still in your hand. "Not feeling well, are you?"

"No," you shook your head, placing the bottle back on the shelf. "Just stocking up. I’m a nurse."

Her eyes flickered with something– curiosity, intrigue, maybe. "A nurse?" She repeated, leaning against the counter, crossing her arms loosely. "That’s rare around here."

You shrugged, trying to keep your posture relaxed. "Figured I’d try my luck."

She studied you a moment longer, her dark eyes tracing your face, her expression unreadable. For a heartbeat, you wondered if she could see right through you.

But then she smiled– a quick, fleeting thing that didn’t quite reach her eyes. "I’m Ada, by the way." Her lips twitched with a smirk.

You introduced yourself, though the way her eyes lingered on you afterward made you feel like she was filing the name away for later.

"See you around."

And then, she was gone, disappearing into the bustle of Birmingham.

The bell above the door jingled softly in her wake. You stood there for a moment, staring after her, trying to shake the unease creeping into your bones.

Something about Ada felt like a warning.

…

By the time you made it home, the sky had darkened, and the city had taken on a different kind of life. The distant hum of music from the pubs, the sharp voices of men laughing and shouting in the streets, the occasional clatter of hooves against cobblestone, all of it filtered through the cracks in the door as you stepped inside.

You locked the door behind you, double-checking the latch before exhaling.

Nights were always the hardest, but routine’s helped keep you steady.

You lit a candle on the worn table, the dim glow flickering against the bare walls. From your bag, you pulled out a small tin of herbal tea, a habit you had picked up somewhere along the way, one of the few things that had helped keep the worst of the nights at bay.

The kettle on the stove took its time, the soft whistle filling the silence. You let the sound settle into your chest, grounding you, reminding you that you were here, in Birmingham, not back there.

You poured the tea, letting the steam rise, inhaling deeply. Lavender, chamomile. Comforting. Soothing. Familiar.

You let the cup warm your hands as you moved to the small washbasin near the window. With slow, deliberate motions, you wiped the soot and city grime from your face, rinsing away the day. Your fingers traced the edges of old scars, faint but still there, a map of wounds that had long since healed.

You pushed the thought away before it could root too deep.

Back at the table, you took a slow sip of tea and focused on the small, simple details, like the warmth of the cup, the crackle of the candle, the soft creak of the house settling. Something in your chest loosened, just slightly.

You weren’t naive. You knew the night wouldn’t be easy. It never was.

But for now, you had a roof over your head. For now, you were safe. You had to let that be enough.

…

The days passed in quiet, measured steps.

You had spent most of your time wandering the city, mapping the streets in your mind, feeling out where you might fit. Birmingham was a city of industry, of labor, of men and women working themselves to the bone. It was restless, alive, always moving.

Finding work, however, had proven more difficult than expected.

You had stopped by a few places– a small clinic near the factories, an apothecary that looked like it could use an extra set of hands. But while people were always in need of medical help, no one seemed keen on hiring a stranger.

You filled your time with small tasks, simple things to make the house feel like your own.

The place had been untouched for years, and it showed. Dust lingered in the corners, the air had been stale, the furniture old and impersonal. You scrubbed the floors, aired out the rooms, patched the curtains that were fraying at the edges. Little by little, it started to feel less like a stranger’s house and more like yours.

You found an old wooden trunk buried in the bedroom closet, filled with relics from your uncle’s past. A few books, a rusted pocket watch, a small collection of letters yellowed with age.

You didn’t know what to do with them, so you stacked them neatly in the corner. Some part of you felt strange throwing them away.

The work kept your hands busy, your mind occupied. And at night, when the city quieted and the memories tried to creep in, you stuck to your routine. Tea. Candlelight. Wash the day away.

You set the steaming cup of tea onto the worn wooden table, the candlelight flickering as the night settled around you.

The routine had become a comfort, a way to quiet your thoughts before bed. You dipped the cloth into the basin, dragging it across your skin in slow, measured strokes, rinsing away the day’s grime, the lingering scent of smoke and iron from the city streets.

The house was silent, peaceful, save for the distant hum of Birmingham outside– the occasional shout from a passing drunk, the distant bark of a dog, the clang of metal from the factories that never truly slept.

And then– A knock.

Not just a knock. A frantic pounding at your door.

Your body tensed instantly, the cloth slipping from your fingers, landing with a soft splash in the basin.

Three sharp knocks. They were urgent– desperate.

You froze, heart hammering, staring toward the door.

For a brief, foolish moment, you considered ignoring it. Letting whoever it was move on, letting them assume you weren’t home. But then you heard another slew of frantic knocks before moving quickly across the room, your bare feet silent against the wooden floor.

You unlatched the lock and pulled the door open. A woman stood on the doorstep, wild-eyed, breathless, her coat slightly askew.

You didn’t recognize her. Her face was sharp, lined with experience, her eyes fierce and intelligent. She looked like a woman who was used to being listened to.

"You’re the nurse?" she demanded.

You blinked, the urgency in her voice rattling you.

"What–"

"No time for questions." She said sternly. “Are you a nurse or not?”

You nodded blankly.

The woman reached forward, gripping your wrist. "Someone’s dying. You need to come. Now."

Your stomach twisted. You could have said no. You should have said no.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you grabbed your medical bag, stepped out into the cold night air, and followed the woman into the dark.

The woman dragged you down the darkened streets of Birmingham, her grip firm as you struggled to match her pace. The cobblestones were slick with the night’s dampness.

"Who are you?" you asked breathlessly, glancing at her from the corner of your eye.

"Not important," she shot back, barely sparing you a glance. "What matters is that someone is hurt, and you’re the only nurse in the bloody area who can help."

That should have made you stop. It should have made you pull away, demand more answers. But something in the woman’s tone, the raw urgency, made your feet keep moving.

"What happened?" you pressed.

"Beaten within an inch of his life," she answered curtly. "Needs stitching, stabilizing. And we can’t take him to the hospital."

That last part made your stomach turn. "Why not?"

The woman finally looked at you then, a sharp, assessing glance that made your breath hitch. "Because hospitals ask too many questions," she said.

You didn’t argue, though unease curled in your gut. You weren’t completely stupid. You knew the type of folks who avoided hospitals were typically the ones who had reasons to stay in the shadows. The kind who couldn’t afford questions, who didn’t want records or police involvement.

The woman led you to an imposing brick manor, its dark windows towering above like watchful eyes. It stood apart from the grime and chaos of Birmingham, looming at the end of a quiet street, a stark contrast to the soot-stained buildings you’d grown used to.

The iron gate creaked as she pushed it open, the path leading to the heavy front door lined with manicured hedges and polished stone. Inside, the air was cooler, cleaner, but no less suffocating.

The woman moved swiftly, her heels clicking against the gleaming floor as she led you through grand hallways, past rooms with plush armchairs and dark, heavy drapes. Without a word, she led you up a winding staircase, her posture rigid, her pace quick. She stopped outside a heavy wooden door, turning to you with sharp, dark eyes.

"In here."

Your eyes adjusted to the dim lantern light, and that was when you saw him. A man lay slumped on top of a bed, his head lulled to the side limply, his body battered and broken. The white of his shirt was soaked through with crimson, his face barely visible beneath the swelling and bruises. He was surrounded by about eight other men– all cross talking and hovering.

"Jesus Christ," one of the men muttered when he saw you, his voice heavy. “Who the hell is this, Polly? Thought you said you were getting help.”

"Get out." The woman– Polly’s voice cut through the room like a blade. Firm. Absolute.

Most of them hesitated, but then they obeyed. Filing out into the hall with murmurs and glances, leaving only the one who had questioned you behind.

She turned to you. "Fix him."

You swallowed, stepping closer, taking in the damage. The man, whoever he was, had been worked over with brutal precision. Deep cuts, swollen bruises, a gash at his temple still bleeding sluggishly. His breathing was uneven, shallow.

"I– I don’t know if I have the right supplies… He’s burning up," you murmured, pressing the back of your fingers against the man’s clammy skin.

"I can assure you that you will be compensated more than fairly if you help him," Polly said firmly.

The weight of her words settled between you like an unspoken challenge. You hesitated only a second longer before nodding, rolling up your sleeves and pressing your fingers to his pulse. Weak. But still there.

You set your medical bag down. "I need clean water and more light, if you have it. And someone needs to hold him still."

The same man stepped forward immediately. "I got ‘im."

Polly exhaled. “I’ll get the water.”

You nodded once, then got to work.

You dropped to your knees beside the man and started taking inventory of his injuries. The most pressing issue was the bleeding. He had several deep gashes– one above his brow had sent blood streaming down his face, coating his cheek in dark red smears, another along his abdomen was deep and oozing. His ribs were bruised, possibly cracked, his breathing shallow and uneven.

His hands were scraped raw, the skin around his knuckles split open, he had fought back. But judging by the state of him, whoever he fought had won.

"I need whiskey," you said, peering towards the man, now lingering towards the end of the bed. "A lot of it."

He let out a grunt of approval before moving toward a shelf in the corner.

You reached for a clean cloth, dousing it with whatever antiseptic you had on hand, and pressed it firmly to the gash on the unconscious man’s head.

He flinched, his whole body tensing. Still fighting, even now. You murmured something low and instinctive. "Easy. You’re alright. Just hold on."

You focused on stitching the worst of the wounds, steadying your hands, ignoring the shake in your breath.

The man with the whiskey stepped forward, dropping a bottle onto the table beside you with a dull thud.

"This for you or for him?" he asked dryly.

You didn’t glance up as you poured some onto a clean cloth, pressing it to a particularly deep wound along the unconscious man’s ribs.

He tensed, but didn’t wake.

"Both, probably," you muttered, shaking your head.

The man let out a short chuckle just as Polly returned with a basin full of water and a stack of clean cloths. She kicked the door shut behind her before carefully setting it down beside you.

"Is he going to be okay?" she asked.

You exhaled slowly, stepping back to assess your work. "If the fever doesn’t take him."

Another silence. Then Polly nodded once, as if that was good enough.

"He’ll make it," the man muttered, rubbing his jaw.

You weren’t so sure.

You took a step back, rubbing your sore fingers against your skirt, trying to wipe away the lingering dampness of blood. It had taken several hours– careful, grueling hours, to stitch and clean each wound, to stabilize his breathing, to keep him tethered to life.

The man in front of you was alive, but for how long was still uncertain.

"He needs rest," you said once you were finished. "No movement, no stress. Keep him warm, keep his wounds clean."

Polly nodded. But her sharp gaze lingered on you, like she was trying to see past your words, past your face, past whatever you were trying to conceal.

You held her gaze for half a second before shifting your focus back to your bag, checking your supplies, steadying your hands.

"You’ve done this before," she said suddenly.

You hesitated. Not long. But long enough for the moment to stretch. "Yes."

"In a hospital?"

"No."

Another silence.

Then she asked, “Where?”

But before you could respond, the door swung open.

"Told you she could help," a familiar voice announced.

You turned toward the sound to see the woman from the apothecary. Ada. Your stomach twisted slightly as you realized how this family had even found you.

She looked concerned, but unfazed by the scene in front of her, the gore, the man slumped on the bed, the piles of bloody, used gauze. She just strode in, coat draped over her shoulders, sharp eyes flicking from you to the unconscious man.

"Will he be alright?" she asked.

Before you could answer, the man spoke first. "He’s Tommy fucking Shelby. He’s bloody tough is what he is, ‘course he’ll be alright.”

The name made you pause. Your heart stuttered in your chest, and your eyes flickered back to the man on the bed. Thomas Shelby.

You knew that name. But from where?

You looked at him again, really looked at him– past the bruising, past the swollen eye and the split lip.

There was something… familiar. Like a ghost creeping at the edges of your mind.

And then, it hit you.

From France– from the trenches, from the cold earth and suffocating dark.

From the tunnel collapse.

Your mind reeled, the memory creeping in like a ghost, unbidden, unwelcome. You could still see it– the flickering oil lamps barely cutting through the darkness, the stench of blood and damp soil thick in the air. The cries of the wounded had blurred together into one endless, agonizing sound, but somehow, over all of it, you had heard his voice.

Thomas Shelby had been one of the lucky ones, dragged out of the tunnel collapse, barely breathing, covered in dust and blood, muttering things under his breath that no one could understand.

You had been the one to sit with him for hours while you waited for help. You pressed a cloth to his forehead, wiped the dirt from his wounds, checked for broken bones. You had been the one to sit beside him as he drifted in and out of consciousness. And you had been there when he woke up later on in the infirmary.

His blue eyes had been dazed, unfocused. He had blinked up at you, confused, disoriented, barely clinging to the present.

"You’re alright," you had murmured, your voice calm, steady, the same tone you had used on countless soldiers before him.

He had just stared at you, breathing raggedly, his chest rising and falling in shallow movements.

Then, a whisper. The words were barely audible, slipping through cracked lips like a prayer, or a curse. "Still here, then."

“Yeah,” you responded. “You’re still here.”

Then, his gaze flickered, just for a moment. "And so are you."

It had startled you then, that he had remembered you. In the chaos, in the dark, you had been just another nameless pair of hands keeping him from slipping away. But he had remembered.

Your fingers clenched around the bloodied cloth still in your hand. You forced yourself to move, to step back from him, to push away the ghosts that clawed at the edges of your mind.

"You’re not leaving, are you?" Ada’s voice cut through the thick silence, sharp and knowing.

You swallowed, forcing yourself to focus on the present. "I’ve done all I can," you murmured, more to yourself than to them. "If he makes it through the night, he’ll live."

The man huffed. "And if he doesn’t?"

You didn’t answer. Because you had seen enough men slip away in the dead of night, their bodies giving out long after their minds had fought to stay.

You didn’t want to see another.

Polly, who had been watching you closely, exhaled through her nose, as if making a decision. “Stay the night. Watch over him. I’ll double your payment."

Your eyes flickered to hers. Calculating. Appraising.

A pause stretched between you.

Then, finally she sighed, “Triple."

“Jesus, Pol,” the man said.

“Quiet, Arthur–” she snapped.

They were desperate– his family, you had to assume. And how could you say no? They were begging in the language they knew, money.

“Triple is robbery. Double is fair,” you replied with a sigh.

Polly’s sharp gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before she gave a small nod, seemingly satisfied.

"Okay then," she said.

Ada exhaled beside her, arms crossed over her chest, watching you with something unreadable in her dark eyes.

The man– Arthur, then took another swig from the bottle of whiskey and muttered, "Fucking hell, he’d better wake up after all this."

You turned back to the man lying unconscious on the makeshift bed, his face still swollen, barely recognizable under the deep bruising. His breathing was still shallow, his body eerily still except for the slight rise and fall of his chest.

You reached for the cloth and basin of water that Polly had brought earlier, wetting the rag and dabbing gently at the dried blood along his jawline.

"We’ll be downstairs if you need anything," Polly said after a moment. "Ada, come on."

Ada hesitated briefly, her gaze flickering between you and Tommy, before she gave you a slight nod and followed her out of the room.

Arthur lingered. He stood by the bed, arms crossed, watching as you continued to clean the remnants of violence from Thomas’ face. "You know, when Pol said she was getting help, I didn’t know what the hell she was talking about," he admitted, voice gruff.

You didn’t look up, just kept your focus on pressing the damp cloth to the dried blood along his jawline.

Arthur exhaled through his nose, rubbing his face briefly before nodding toward you.

"But… thanks. For saving my brother."

You finally glanced up, finding something genuine in his gaze. You just nodded. A quiet acknowledgement.

Arthur lingered for a beat longer before muttering, "Right then."

Then he turned and strode toward the door, disappearing into the hallway, leaving you alone.

Next Chapter >>

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinder imagine #tommy shelby x you #peaky blinders angst #tommy shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x imagine #peaky blinders x reader

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chatterbox-73 · 8 months ago

Text

Kinktober 2024.

Day 16 - Size Difference.

Erwin Smith x fem!Reader

This story is a smut story for Kinktober, I’ll be writing more characters x reader one shots for Kinktober and if you want to see a character please let me know...

You must be 18 years or older to read this...

🔞⚠️NO MINORS ALLOWED⚠️🔞

A/n: H/L/N = husband’s last name.

This is also a repost.

Summary: you rush into marriage and now your stuck with a lousy husband, however once you get recruited as an on-site nurse for the survey corps you get to know commander Smith very well

Word count: 3.3k

CW: NSFW and adult content, size difference, cheating, fingering, y/n has a lousy husband, slightly catching feelings, mention of blood, rough sex, unprotected sex, pull out, implied squirting, belly bulge and slightly commander kink.

You were never one of those little girls that wanted to get married and have kids, but here you were. You settled and got married young, you didn’t love your husband, you weren’t satisfied with your husband, the man wasn’t even your type. However thanks to some frightening life lessons from your old sister, you rushed into marriage and now stuck with probably the most boorish, narrow-minded and egocentric man in the walls.

“We have guests coming over tonight, so prepare extra” your husband demanded as he walked up behind you and rubbed a hand over your butt, before giving it a light squeeze, “alright, who’s coming? So I can prepare something they’ll like” you asked, trying to play the happy little wife and stopping yourself from recoiling from his touch, “honestly it doesn’t matter it’s just a couple of soldiers… so make anything, just a lot of it” he spoke flatly before he walked to his study.

You had finished making the meal and had now began to set the table, while you waited for the guests to arrive. As you set out the final plate of food you heard a knock on the door, “y/n, hurry up and get the door” you husband yelled from his office, you rolled your eyes and answer the door. You were then met with the three commanding officers of the military regiments.

Nile Dok, commander of the Military Police.

Dot Pixis, commander of the Garrison.

And finally, Erwin Smith, commander of the Scout Regiment.

It took you a second to come to grips with what you were seeing, at first you thought your idiot husband, must have gotten into some kind of trouble with the Military Regiments, however if he had, soliders wouldn’t be so civil as to knock on the door, they’d just kick it in and rush the building.

After snapping out of your minor panic, you gestured for the men to come in, “come in… you’re right on time, I just finished setting the table… be sure wipe your boots on the door matt” you stepped aside and let all the men pass through, “straight down, second door on the left” you instructed as you closed the front door.

All the men made their way into the dining room and you told them to make themselves comfortable while you went and retrieved your husband.

When you return to dining room with your husband in toe, you found the three men looking at the small hand carved statues and the landscape paintings, that you had created in all your spare time at home once you got married.

After marrying your current husband, he demanded you to quit your job as a nurse and become the home body, and so to pass the time you began wood carving and paint.

“Sorry if you find those unsightly, my wife picked up the hobby as a way to pass time” your husband quipped, before side eyeing and silently asking you ‘why you didn’t put them away’, however you just ignored him and walked over the the eldest man of the three, who was holding a small white horse that had a black spot over its eye, that you had caved a few weeks ago, “do you like it?” You asked with a smile, the man nodded “yes, my grandson loves horses but we’ve had some difficulty finding toys he likes” Pixis went to place the horse down, “you can keep it if you’d like, I’m not save these figures from anything special” you said, before quickly taking out a handkerchief out of your apron pocket and wrapped the small figure in it, then passed it back to the man.

“Well we should start eating before the food goes cold” you smile and walk over to the table.

You sat and listen to the men conversant as you all ate, however the topic of why the sudden visit hadn’t been brought up yet and you felt yourself becoming impatient.

“If I may impose, but what was the reason for this sudden visit” you look between the three soldiers, “oh right, of course… you see we’re here to request your’s and your husband’s services in the Military’s medical unit” spoke Nile.

Both you and your husband looked shocked, but for two very different reasons “I’m sorry, I was under the impression my wife would have no part in this, she’s not even in service anymore” your husband said sternly, and you glared at him.

“Well that’s correct, however we looked through her medical reports and were also made aware of the short amount of time she spent in the training crops before she moved on to be a nurse” Pixis stated, and your husband snapped his head towards you.

You could see the displeasure in his eyes, “you were apart of the training crops?” He raised a questioning brow and you nodded, “for how long?” He asked condescendingly, like he believed you were dropped from the training crops, “about two years” you answered and then looked to the three man, “so where do you need us?” You smiled.

Pixis shifted uncomfortably before answering, “we’ll place you, Dr. H/L/N in Orvud District of wall sheena, and you, Mrs. H/L/N will be placed mostly in Trost District of wall Rose” he looked from you to your husband, “why won’t me and my wife be working together” your husband stated. “Unfortunately there’s only limited spots in the Orvud District’s medical unit and your wife’s skills are more suited to be with the survey corps, however if you’d like to join her in Trost District, your welcome to” Nile spoke and your husband looked to you, almost begging you to reject the offer so he could work in the inner walls without looking like a horrible husband for leaving you to work in a lesser and more dangerous area, “why don’t you take the job in Orvud District?” You asked with a smile.

Your husband smiled back at you, “because dear, I can’t leave you with the survey corps that’s dangerous” he held your hand, “I’m sure I’ll be fine, besides it’d be good to get some extra money to put in our savings, it’d help when we decide to have a baby” you smiled and place your other hand over top of his.

The way you spoke made it seem like everything was your idea and you were the one who wanted your husband to work in wall Sheena, however you really couldn’t care less where he was or wasn’t, but it was always easier on you to make him look like the good guy.

You weren’t sure if the other men could tell what you were doing, nor did you care, but your husband definitely appreciated it.

The rest of the night went fairly smooth, both you and your husband signed agreement forms and got information sheets about the days you’d be picked up and your tasks in the regiments you were assigned to.

Then came the day, you had a bag packed and you were picked up earlier in the morning by carriage, you said your goodbyes and got in.

Once getting into the carriage, you sat down across from Erwin and watched as he knock on the roof to signal the drive you were ready to leave.

The ride was relatively quiet until Erwin finally spoke, “we didn’t get to talk much at the dinner but the meal was lovely” he said and you smiled, “thank you, I’m glad you enjoyed it” you blushed, Erwin was a very handsome man and there was no denying that, he was your ideal type of guy, and everything your husband was not.

“So why did you drop out of the training corps? You were doing excellently, judging by the class reports we went through” Erwin held a curious expression in his eyes and you shook your head “I feel like I’d save more lives in medicine rather then in the survey corps ‘fighting for freedom’… no offence” you watched as Erwin chuckled at your words, his laugh was so hot… what were you thinking, your a married woman, you may not be happy but your marriage nonetheless.

“So what will I be doing when we get there” you asked, “well first, you’ll be given a uniform, I’ll take you to the training ground to see where you need improvement and then we’ll both write up a timetable, that will have your training times and your clinic times so you can take clients then” Erwin explained “so unfortunately for you, we’ll be spending a lot of time together” he smiled, and you chuckled, “I guess I’m lucky you’re so easy on the eye, commander Smith” you flirt and then mentally scold yourself.

You were all sweaty, hot and out of breath as you stood on a large tree branch, “are you alright?” Erwin asked as he stepped onto the same branch effortlessly “yeah, I guess I’m just a really out of shape” you chuckled and lean on the trunk of the tree, “you look like your in great shape” the man smiled and gave your body a once over, before you thanked him.

You both took off your ODM gear before moving on to hand to hand combat, you could tell Erwin was pulling his punch’s and that was until you got him right in the nose and he stumbled back a bit.

You when in for another hit, however Erwin grabbed your arm and pulled you towards him, then pushing you to the ground and pinned your hands behind your back, you look up at him and noticed he was bleeding.

“Oh my god, your bleeding” you struggle out of his grip and get up to look at his nose, “we should go inside its too dark out here to tell if it’s broken or not” you said in a panic and Erwin chuckled, “it doesn’t feel broken” you frowned at him, “yes but it could be” you pull him to his feet and drag him to the office you were assigned earlier that day.

You sat the large man on the chair and dabbed at his face, after cleaning any blood off his face you felt his nose to check if it was broken, luckily it wasn’t and so you gave him some tissues paper and told him to hold his nose until the blooding stop.

“Well I guess now is probably the best time to start working on your timetable” Erwin said as he wiped off any remaining blood from his face, “I guess your right” you said as you got some paper, ink and dip pens from a draw in your desk.

It didn’t take too long for you and Erwin to complete the timetable, Erwin also wrote a information sheet stating what services you offer and if the soldiers had any questions then to come and asked you, at the appropriate times of course.

You copied the sheet a few times and posted them in popular areas in the survey corps headquarters, like inside the barracks and in the dining hall.

It had been a week since you started working and you had requested for everyone to do a mandatory physical exam, you had started off with the young soldiers, then moved to the older soldiers and then finally to the captains and commanders of the regiment. There was a harsh knock on your door, “just a moment I have to finish up with someone” you called as you jotted Moblit’s height, weight and any physical markers you spotted while doing his exam.

“Are you ready to leave?” You asked Moblit as he slipped on his boot and he nodded, you opened the door to reveal a small grumpy man, “oh captain Levi, I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow” you smiled and ushered him in and let Mobile out, you shut the door.

“Yeah Erwin said that he was busy and asked if I could deliver the message” Levi’s frown deepened, “well while you’re here I can do your exam, if you’re comfortable?” You asked and the man nodded.

You went on with Levi’s exam, and the man was in top physical condition, took down everything you requested and asked him to dress, “while you dress I’m going to shout out some questions, please answer honestly” you said and began with your questions.

The sun began to set and by now Levi’s exam was over, you walked him out of you office and found Erwin standing across the hallway waiting for you to finish, Levi ‘tsk’ when he saw Erwin and then disappeared down the hallway.

“Oh my, I didn’t expect you here, I thought you were busy” you smiled and over the short amount of time you worked here, you’ve begun to feel for Erwin, his just so kind and handsome.

“Yeah, I finished all my work and figured if you ain’t too tired you’d be able to do my physical exam, or at least reschedule it” Erwin smiled sheepishly, “sure come in” you stepped aside and let the large blonde in, “I’ll do your examination today, please disrobe and place this towel around you” you lead him to an area with a curtain and you handed him a towel, “once your done disrobing, sit on that bed” you said and starting gathering some paper and placing it on a clipboard.

You almost dropped the clipboard as you watched Erwin sit on the bed, pulling yourself together you begin the exam with checking his ears, eyes, nose, mouth and head. “That looks all good now I need to take some measurements” you say and gestures for him to stand up, you take out your measuring tape and kick a little stepping stool over to him, for you to stand on while measuring him.

You start with Erwin’s arms, you had to fight the urge to squeeze his large muscles, but you finally managed to take length and then circumference and by god you nearly cream yourself at the width of his biceps, you then moved on to his chest measurements, your first instinct was to run your nails down his extremely broad chest and lick up his chiselled stomach, you tried with all your might to not give into your temptations, however you won’t so lucky, subconsciously you leaned in huffed in his delicious musk, while letting your finger trail down his front, tracing his abs and deep v cut, and once you realised what you did, you stepped off the stool and moved back from the man.

“I’m so sorry commander Smith, I don’t know what came over me” you said with a red face, you were obviously lying, you wanted Erwin more then anything but you were a married woman and although you didn’t love or care for your husband, you were above cheating… you think… “it’s fine, I understand, you miss your husband… it gets quite lonely here, doesn’t it?” Erwin asked take a few steps forward causing you to take a few steps back, until you bumped into the desk.

“Look at me and honestly tell me you don’t want this, if so I’ll get dressed and leave, but if you can’t…” Erwin stood over you, he grabbed your face and made you look at him, “and if I can’t?” You question and Erwin chuckled, “I’ll fuck you silly” you swallowed.

“If I’m being honest I want you, but about my husband?” You asked as you maintained eye contact, “and what about him, what he doesn’t know won’t kill him” Erwin picked you up effortlessly and walked you over to the bed, before lying you down.

You laid on your back naked moaning, shadowed by Erwin’s figure, as he pumped two thick finger in and out of you, while rubbing your clit with his thumb and quickly worked you over the edge.

Erwin pulled his fingers out of you “you should be ready for me” he pulled you towards him, so your ass was just on the edge of the bed and place his length on your mons pubis, before pushing his hips to meet yours and this aloud him to measure his length against you.

Erwin lifted his member off you and poked just under your bellybutton “this is where you’re gonna feel me baby” Erwin smirked as you blushed and told him to stop being like that. Erwin pulled back and began to rub the tip of his lofty manhood against your folds.

You moan at the way he teased you, “just put it in, I’m desperate commander” you whines and you then felt two of Erwin’s finger spread you lower lips apart before pushing his throbbing tip in you.

You gasped at the painful discomfort that came with the unnatural stretch, even your first time wasn’t this painful.

“It hurts… it- it hur- hurts” you cried as you grabbed the bed in a death like grip, Erwin gave you all the time you needed to adjust to him and once your cries of pain turned into whines of pleasure he then slowly pushed more of himself in, you cried out loudly and arched your back as his cock came to the hilt, you heard him groan as he placed a hand on your lower stomach, “shit you need to see this” Erwin said through grit teeth.

You looked down at his hand and watched as he lifted it, there you saw a bulge in your belly and you brought your hands down to it, then began to rub it.

“Mmmm so full” you moaned looking up at Erwin and suddenly the man started thrusting in and out of you, keeping your hand on your lower stomach you felt Erwin’s girthy erection drag against you tight walls, “it feels so good Erwin” you breathed out between moans. Erwin grabbed your hips and pulled you into his rough thrust, you reached out to grab his arms as you gasped out in an attempt to stop him and when you finally got a hold of his arms it just gave Erwin more leverage in his brutal pace.

When you dug your nails into Erwin’s biceps, he left you off the bed and tangled a hand into your hair, before pulling back on it causing your back to bend.

In this new position Erwin pace never slowed it just got harder and deeper, you put your face in the crook of his neck to muffle you pleads and cries.

Erwin felt you tightening around him and grunted, “you gonna cum for your commander? Huh baby?” He placed you back on the bed and roughly gripped your hips, while leaving his pace unchanging.

You nodded as the knot in your stomach tightened and your the pressure in you throbbing cunt became unbearable, just as you began to cum on Erwin’s thick cock, he quickly pulled out of you and you suddenly feel all that pressure in the cunt release in a gush, “fucking hell, baby” you heard Erwin moan and you felt warm liquid spurt onto you.

You laid on the bed with your eyes closed and panting for a while, until Erwin’s hands wiped you down with the towel.

“I know this wasn’t your first time, but there’s some blood here, is that normal?” Erwin asked as he started dressing you, you nodded “yeah, you were just too rough with me” you whine at the pain.

You were then scoop up in Erwin arms and he carried you across the room to the door on the other side of the room, which leads to your private quarters.

Erwin lays you down in bed and sat on the bed until you feel asleep.

When you woke the next morning you noticed a note on the pillow next to you, as you reached to get it you could feel a sharp ache all over your body, but most notably in your hips and lower back.

You read the note and it stated that Erwin requested the clinic be closed today because you were having a day off, after you finished reading, you dropped the note and went back to sleep, to hopefully rest off the pain.

Kinktober Masterlist

Day 15 - Jiraiya: Seeing red.

Day 17 - Asahi Azumane: A/B/O.

#fem!reader #aot #aot smut #aot erwin #erwin smith x reader smut #erwin x reader smut #erwin smut #erwin smith x reader #erwin x reader #commander erwin #erwin smith #snk erwin #attack on titan erwin #kinktober 2024 #kinktober

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casuallyanidiot · 10 months ago

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The Beta Test | Prologue

[yandere male x gn reader]

Local party animal and known social butterfly [name] wakes up to find that they've been abducted by their very reclusive and very wealthy classmate. Why, you might ask, did he do this? Well for one reason of course! He needs to know how he's going to talk to his crush! So now, with their freedom on the line, [name] has to figure out how to get this kid with the one of his dreams or risk never leaving at all. Lots of weird conversations ensue, of course.

600+ words Tw. Swearing, mentions of alcohol and drug consumption, kidnapping, drugging Table of contents

The first thing that came to your groggy mind was: “Shit, I need to work on that research paper.”

The second was: “Oh my god I’m absolutely going to die right now.”

Now, normally when you would wake up somewhere random it wouldn’t be too weird considering the fact that you were a frequent presence at many parties occurring on and off your campus, but you couldn’t say that you had ever found yourself laying on the floor behind a set of bars. Well, the on-the-floor part you had. Just not all that other stuff.

The first thing, and the most logical thing at that, to consider was that you had somehow wound up being arrested last night. While you would like to say that you were a very responsible person when it came to substances of various degrees, there would be times when you would end up getting swept up in the heat and frenzy of a good time and good music, hence the whole waking up in strangers homes thingy. You had never gotten into any trouble while being in a state like that, but hey, there was a first time for everything. You could only imagine how embarrassing you had behaved last night if you ended up in jail.

It really sucked that you had been arrested though. “What the hell am I going to tell my parents?” you thought with a groan as you pressed your hands to your face. Your knees were placed to your chest and the soft material of your pajamas-

Wait a damn minute.

You looked down to find that you were in fact wearing something that would only be taken to bed or to take out the trash. The stains and faded fabric were proof enough of their use, and there was absolutely no way you’d be wearing sleep clothes while getting blacked out at a party. When you actually thought about it for two seconds, it became apparent that yeah, you had been in your apartment wearing comfy clothes, preparing to actually study, and winding down for the evening before BOOM, Nothing.

Your brows were furrowed and your lips were pursed as you wiped at your eyes. Your brain felt fuzzy, and the room ( cell?) was blurred. Though the second it cleared up you realized that you were utterly and unequivocally fucked.

Yes, you were inside a cell, on the floor, sitting on a little mat. The floor was gray and cold and hard, but on the other side of the solid metal bars was a kitchenette and a dining table. From what you could see with the virtually nonexistent lighting were clean white marble countertops and sleek wood accents decorating the entire other half of the room. It looked nice, like one of those backdrops that you would see some social media model posing in front of, pretending that they were cooking.

Oh, and there was this guy sitting on a chair just staring at you.

You blinked harshly in surprise. How you hadn’t noticed him before was beyond you, but to be fair you weren’t exactly in the clearest state of mind. Still despite the terror growing in your gut like a weed, you put on a wobbly, awful, nervous smile and said,

“ Oh hi, what’s up?”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere male #my writing #x reader #prologue #oc #my ocs #javier #tw kidnapping #fanfic writing #the beta test #boyfailure

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summer-nights19 · 10 months ago

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Good for business part 1 - A New Farmer in Town

Balor x fem reader (Fields of Mistria)

Blurb: It was only supposed to be a business partnership with a few benefits. After all, you were both ambitious and seeking to make names for yourselves ... so how did you get here ? You didn't know, and part of you refused to care.

Genre: slowburn

This fanfic will mostly follow the plot of the game and include some lines from it

Part 2

You sighed as you stumbled your way through the woods. According to your map, you were almost there. Honestly, it had been a gamble - after finishing your studies, you hadn't found any work opportunities in your hometown, so, after reading that a little town called Mistria was looking for a farmer and offering free land after being hit by a pretty bad earthquake, you'd quickly written to Adeline to make your interest known. However, it had meant leaving everything you knew behind, a realisation that was dawning closer on you as you neared what used to be a stone bridge but was now floating rubble.

You were so deep in own your own thoughts that you didn't realise when you walked straight into something hard and solid. A wall ? No. You took a few steps back and looked up, slowly coming back down to earth. Before you stood the most attractive man you'd ever seen. He was tall and well built without being too buff; his hair was blue and reached his shoulders. You inhaled and looked up into his eyes, which were a dark, rich brown. Before you could apologise for walking into him, he spoke up, the hint of a smirk creeping on his face.

"Hey ! Didn't expect to find anyone else here. The roads have been a mess since the earthquake. I'm Balor, a travelling merchant. Pleased to meet you. You're here at Lady Adeline's request ? She mentioned someone had taken her up on her offer," he winked at you, and you felt the heat rise to your face

"Yeah, there was something about free land and a house... gotta put food on the table somehow," you were being honest, but you suddenly worried your answer might sound selfish. Balor kept smiling at you, seemingly unfazed.

"It's a lovely spot. Quite close to town. I'll walk with you if you don't mind the company,"

You gave him a smile of your own.

"Great, let's go !"

Balor jumped across the broken bridge and you tried to follow suit, slipping and landing on some rubble in the process. He extended his hand, and, after a bit of hesitation, you took it. It was warm and considerably larger than yours, with a few scars on the knuckles. You wondered where they came from and felt your stomach tighten into knots. He pulled you up letting go of your hand after you found your footing again. You mourned the loss of contact more than you were willing to admit.

"We should be able to make it before it gets dark. Come on, we'll head straight to your new farmstead," Balor started walking down the path after shooting you another grin. You followed him, still slightly flustered.

***

A couple of hours had passed since Balor had left you with Eiland at your farm. After he and Adeline had shown you how everything worked, they'd left too, leaving you alone to unpack your stuff. Not that there was much to unpack - you'd only brought some clothes and a few of your favourite books from home, which you'd packed up in the chest. The smart thing to do would have been starting on the farm work - the land was overgrown and unkempt, so it needed a little maintenance- but after 12 hours of travel, you could only bring yourself to light the fireplace and lie down on your worn mattress. Before falling asleep, you thought back to flowing blue locks, confident smirks, shining brown eyes and scarred knuckles. A sleepy smile started forming on your face.

Maybe you'd be just fine here.

Masterlist

#fields of mistria #fields of mistria fanfic #fids of mistria headcanons #fom #fom farmer #fom balor #fom balor x reader #balor fields of mistria #balor x reader #slow burn #fom balor fanfic

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the-cauldron-witch · 10 months ago

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Weapon accessory gifts

Very simple scenario: Each turtle gives reader an accessory gift. That's all!

Tag group: @thelaundrybitch @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @sophiacloud28 @truffle-draws-turtles @iridescentflamingo (If you wish to be added to my tag list, message me!)

Leonardo

You had learned over the years that gift giving wasn’t one of Leo’s strongest love languages, preferring quality time over materialistic items. Sure, when the time called for a gift like a holiday or an anniversary, the gifts he got for you were always either well thought out, planned, and useful or you had been pining after for some time but never got around to buy for yourself. Gifts outside of that weren’t as common, but they did appear, usually as a surprise silently sitting somewhere for you to find easily. Which is why when you walked into your apartment's kitchen, it was a pleasant surprise to see a baby-blue gift box sitting on your table.

The rectangular box had a white ribbon tying the lid to the box, gently keeping the two together. You smiled brightly, reaching down for the box and picking it up to feel the weight. It had a decent heaviness to it, not enough to be a hindrance but enough for it to be noticeable. You didn’t open the box though, instead waiting for a moment longer with a knowing smile.

Just as predicted a pair of hands suddenly appeared around your hips, a warm body pressing against you from behind. Tilting your head to look up you batted your eyelash at Leo, who returned your warm smile. Leaning down just enough to place a kiss on your forehead he gave your hips a gentle squeeze, happy with the content smile plastered on your face.

“What’s the special occasion?” You giggled, leaning your back against his plastron, pressing the back of your head against his chest to feel the thundering of his heart. A rumbling chuckle vibrated through you as Leo looked down to you with softness in his eyes.

“No occasion, just something to keep you safe” He chuckled.

Now rather intrigued by his statement you turned your attention back to the box, pinching the end of the ribbon you pulled at the silk, the slippery fabric easily undoing itself. Separating the lid from the box you paused, staring at the object within. It looked like a solid, black, flat baton or club from the surface.

“It’s called a tessen,” Leo explained from behind you, watching you take the club in hand. “Unfold it”

Turning and inspecting the tessen you paused, wondering what he means by unfolding it. When you noticed the side looked similar to a paper fan you had used many times through-out your life you understood and slid the fan open. Gasping as the gorgeous midnight blue fan spread out in your hand you marveled at the white blossoms and petals dancing in the wind, giving a serene ethereal feeling to its beauty.

“It’s beautiful,” You breathed.

“Just like you” Leo murmured into the crown of your head. Turning the tessen to study the beautiful craftsmanship, the thin iron spokes between the deep stained wood glinting in the light of your kitchen. The white petals and flowers flowing in the breeze gave the sense of serenity and peace.

“You have to be very careful, sweetheart” Leo reached for the ribbon discarded on the table top he took it in both hands, pulling the fabric taught. Bringing the ribbon to the edge of the fan Leo flicked his wrist, bringing the ribbon over the edge and splitting it in half. “The edge of the fan is a blade, you have to be very careful when you unfold it. When it's folded you can use it as a club, the ends are reinforced for blunt force.

Marveling as Leo’s expert hands took the beautiful weapon from your hands you watched as he folded it back together. He turned it over, the wood lacquer glistening and smooth. Holding the handle of the fan to your eye level Leo leaned down, his bright blue eyes scrutinizing the wood in search of something only he knew of. Taking your hand he extended your pointer finger gliding it along the smooth surface until you felt the slightest difference. It felt like a tiny, circular indentation.

“Can you feel that button?” He questioned.

“Yes?” You smiled curiously at him. Putting just enough pressure to the tip of your finger a small click was heard, the end of the fan's handle segmented into a smaller handle. Taking the smaller handle Leo unsheathed a blade, the surface reflecting your surprised expression. It was a tanto, you only knew this because Leo enjoyed talking to you for hours about weaponry, the handle of the blade just big enough for your hand.

“Leo, this is...wow,” Taking the blade in hand, surprised by how light it was compared to the tessen in the other, your own reflection inspecting back at you as you stared. The blade was brand new, not a single nick or scratch to be seen.

“We can practice at the lair with it some time, I can show you how to properly use it” His voice lowered and his eyes crinkled as he looked at the weapons he had bestowed on you, a sense of worry behind his expression. There was more to his statement and you could feel it, when his eyes finally met yours again you remained quiet and waiting.

“I...I’m not always going to be around if there’s trouble. I’ve accepted that...somewhat. I know we’ve trained and I’ve shown you how to defend yourself, but there’s going to be danger and you aren’t as skilled-”

“Baby,” Before he could continue on his tangent and get lost in his rambling you interrupted him nicely, “I love it, it’s beautiful. I know you’re protecting me,”

Placing the gift on the table with care you wasted no time in turning back to Leo, your hands reaching up to cup his cheeks and guide it down to your own for a deep kiss. His lips molded to yours protectively, one hand trailing up your back and the other firmly pressing you to his plastron. He pulled away and looked down at you, smiling with a fondness that filled you with warmth and sent your heart fluttering.

“I’ll always protect you, somehow, someway. Always,” Leo promised you with a kiss to your forehead, his voice thick with sincerity and love like warm honey.

Raphael

“Come on, keep going!” Raph’s voice boomed off the walls as he stood behind the punching bag hanging from the ceiling, bracing the bag as you drilled into the side vigorously. Focusing on keeping your form and making sure your punches landed on their mark Raph’s unusually loud voice didn’t deter you, instead encouraging and fanning the flame within you.

“Keep your feet apart! That’s it, keep it up, just a couple more jabs!” Grinning with pride as you put all your weight into each solid punch you took, Raph admired you with a toothy grin. Left, right, left, left, right, left, right, right. The only time your eyes wavered from your target was to catch a glance up at Raph, his bright green eyes raking over you to make sure you kept your form while also admiring every single inch of you. His gaze fueled the fire even more, making you swing harder and with more precision.

“Heh, easy tiger, easy! Stand down,” Raph called out to you with a laugh, grinning at you proudly. Pulling back your fists with a huff you paused, waiting to see what he would instruct you with next. He admired that about you, always willing to listen to him and follow his instructions when you trained with him, knowing full well this was all to make sure you could keep yourself safe and hold your own when you needed to.

“You did good today, doll. Let’s call it a break,” Stepping out from behind the bag Raph slid the towel from his shoulder and handed it to you. It was clean but still held his scent heavily, not that you complained at all. Dabbing the sweat from your brow you watched as Raph strolled across the dojo and to his workout bench. Picking up the dripping water bottle from the condensation ring he tossed the bottle to you, smirking as you fumbled to catch it.

“Mean!” You yelled at him, the cold droplets splattering against your hot skin.

“What? I’m just testin’ ya reflexes” He played innocent, a devilish smirk plastered across his cheeks. An abrupt look of realization washed over him at his own words, his bright green eyes flickering with a memory you had no idea about. “Hang on, wait right here!”

He took off towards his room a second later, disappearing down the hall for a moment without explaining any further. Cracking open the water bottle and taking a sip you waited patiently, rather curious by what exactly in his sentence sparked the memory and what he was grabbing. Rushing back with a childish grin and something shiny in his fist Raph returned. Stopping only a step in front of you he uncurled his fist, a red metal rod the length of a pencil sitting in his palm. One end had indented grips for a handle and a keyring while the other end tapered off into a blunt point.

“What is it?” You questioned, picking up the surprisingly light weapon.

“It’s called a Kubotan. It’s a self defense keychain, if you hold it in your fist it’ll make it so your punches are sturdier and harder,” He reached a hand over and gently curled yours into a fist around the kubotan, the grips molding around your fingers as though it was made to fit like a puzzle piece. “The other end you can use either to stab someone in the pressure or reflex point, break a window in an emergency- or a rib if you stab them hard enough”

Turning the kubotan in your hand you couldn’t help but smile at the shade of red, oddly similar to Raph’s own mask. Of course he would pick something that would remind you of him in every way; blunt, quick, and red in color. It was easy to move in your hands with how light it was, possibly made from steel if you had to guess.

“I love it babe, thank you” Lifting your head to look up at him you smiled brightly, “I’ll make sure I always have it,”

“That’s why there’s a keychain” He teased, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips. You couldn’t help but giggle against his mouth at the comment, because of course he would say something smartass like.

Donatello

“I’m so glad you’re here!” Was the first sentence you heard from Donnie as you walked into the lab, putting a bright smile on your face. There was no time for you to greet him back as he was beside you in a second, taking your right arm and guiding your hand outward. You allowed him to fiddle with your wrist, wrapping something silicone snuggly and making sure it is secured.

“I just finished it,” Donnie’s eyes sparkled with pride at the device now attached to your arm. Pulling the device close enough to inspect you recognized it as a sort of smartwatch, the face of the digital watch was bigger than a normal smartwatch was the first thing you noticed. The screen brightened, the word ‘Hello!’ greeting you with an adorable smiley face.

“It’s a type of smartwatch I made for you, I call it the Multi-Tech Watch” He began explaining, pride in every word he spoke as you tapped the screen. The smiling face that had greeted you giggled and changed screens, showing you icons for different functions that Donnie was clearly about to burst at the seams with excitement to explain further.

“You can give it a name, I gave it a cute and simple AI system that can be customized to your preferences. It’s main objective is your safety, so it has plenty of devices”

“When did you start making this?” You questioned as he ushered you further into his lab and into a seat, wheeling his computer chair next to you for more comfortability as he showed you how the device worked. No memories of this invention being mentioned in the past occurred to you as you inspected the new device.

“I was keeping it a secret, I wanted to surprise you...and make sure everything worked as intended,” He gave you a sheepish grin and rubbed the back of his neck, something he always did when he was about to admit something embarrassing to you, “I had to make sure the mace feature worked correctly cause I...might have sprayed myself,”

“Oh my God! You didn’t wear your goggles again, did you?” You chided and suddenly pulled the device far from your face, not wanting the mace function to go off as though on queue. Not wanting to admit further folly Donnie took your hand and guided it back to his front, his large finger somehow able to tap the tiny screen.

Showing you each function for each app Donnie designed himself he explained each of their uses. The app icon with a lightning bolt released a pair of prongs for a taser on the side pointing away from you, the silicone band serving as a barrier from being shocked when in use. A thumb-tack icon was the next app he explained. When pressed the icon gave you three simple options; Send tracker, which launched a sticky button tracker that sent out a signal to the watch and Donnie’s computer. Option two said ‘Track Me’ that would send your immediate location to the pre-programmed contacts Donnie had installed. The last option was a simple GPS, something that would help you get to your destination easier.

A simple flashlight was the next icon, its function rather obvious but came with the simple options. There was a color wheel off to the side, giving you the option to change the color of the light or allow you to rotate through the rainbow or a customized set you could create. There was also a blue-light option, a function he added for when you fell asleep wearing the watch to help soothe you in your sleep.

“For the mace option,” Donnie pointed your wrist directly out in front of you, the watch pointing straight forward to an invisible enemy, “If you press the little spray can icon and hold it for five seconds, the watch will spray a thick cloud of bear mace. You only have a few charges for this, so be careful and try not to waste it. There’s a feature that will let me know when the canister is empty and needs to be refilled,”

“How exactly did you spray yourself again?” You questioned him, interrupting his tangent with a cocky smirk.

“I’ll explain later. Now, for the coup de grace” Dodging your question quickly he took your wrist back, excitedly showing you the icon of a tiny turtle with a helicopter propeller on its shell. It was adorable frankly, but what exactly its function was wasn’t very clear by the icon. Pressing the button the watch opened on a virtually invisible hinge. Tiny whirling propellers began singing as an incredibly small drone popped out, shaped like a tiny turtle with four suction cup shaped feet. A tiny screen attached to the shell turned on, the adorable smile previously on the watch now greeting you on the smallest drone you have ever seen.

“Oh my God it’s adorable!” You practically shrieked with delight at the tiny drone smiling at you, flying around your wrist and head in a figure eight. Grinning proudly Donnie watched for a moment as the tiny drone stopped in front of your face, a small giggle coming from it. Could it speak? You didn’t know just yet, but either way it was precious.

“I didn’t name it, I figured you would want to do that yourself. This little guy is equipped with an AI personality that will grow as the two of you get to know each other, a tiny camera to take pictures and videos, and if you ever get into too much trouble the watch is designed to immediately launch the drone and seek me out for help”

“This is awesome, Donnie,” Cooing at the drone as it slipped itself back into its rightful place in the watch, closing seamlessly and face returning to the watches screen. “I love it, I can’t believe you made this without me knowing. Thank you, I’ll make sure to keep it on me at all times”

“I’m so glad you like it, I’ll upgrade and add stuff to it as I think of them...I just want to make sure you stay safe” Leaning over in your seat you placed a quick kiss to his cheek, more than happy with your gift and eager to pick a name for your new little AI friend.

Michelangelo

The white string of lights gave off a comforting glow within the fort both you and Mikey had made in the middle of your living room. The original plan of a picnic on your apartment roof had been quickly dashed when the roll of thunder echoed in the distance and was quickly closing in. The two of you managed to clamber back into your apartment through your window, sliding the glass shut just as the skies opened up into waves of heavy rain. The gentle tapping of droplets against the window panes and roar of thunder from outside washed a feeling of serenity over the apartment.

Sudden weather change didn’t mean you couldn’t still have a picnic. Mikey didn’t even give you an explanation, simply started grabbing your extra bed sheets and began arranging couch cushions. With little hesitation you began gathering supplies as well, pulling out a box of Christmas lights that had greeted you by falling on your head when you opened one of your closets.

Using broom or mop handles to hold up fitted sheets like canopies, stringing the lights and using chip clips to keep them in the air, and piling the couch cushions and any pillow he could find into a makeshift nest with a special blanket spread out for the food. Mikey beamed with pride at his work before grabbing the food that had been packed originally for a rooftop escapade. You spread out the picnic on the blanket while Mikey turned on the music, using his bluetooth speaker he brought with him.

“This was a great idea, babe,” You praised, smiling warmly as you sat next to him.

“I wasn’t about to let something like a little rain ruin my date with you, Angelcakes!” Mikey beamed with pride, feeling that he had successfully saved the date the two of you had planned some time ago. Scooting himself closer to you he smiled brightly and crossed his legs, reaching a hand behind him slowly. While building the fort he had snuck a present into the cushions while you weren’t looking. He couldn’t wait anymore, he had to give it to you even if he wanted to originally wait until you two ate.

“What’s that smile for?” Giggling at the grin splitting Mikey’s face, you adjusted yourself in your seat, recognizing that ‘I can’t keep it back any longer’ grin and glint in his bright blue eyes. Pulling out the slender and long box from behind his back he handed it to you with a smile that could brighten the darkest room. Taking the gift box with eagerness you held it in your hands, inspecting the cream-orange wrapping paper he had picked to match his mask. Tearing the paper away you opened the white box eagerly and gasped.

A beautifully slender black wooden hair stick with an adorable paper lantern with a tassel dangling at the end sat inside its faceted velvet confines. It was so simple yet so beautiful. Eagerly reaching over Mikey gently took the accessory from its box, rolling it over in his hand to admire the craftsmanship himself yet again. Wrapping an arm around you Mikey hauled you into his lap and held the hair stick in front of you.

“This isn’t just something beautiful, baby girl” Mikey explained softly, his tone low and caring. “If you grab the end with the lantern and the middle, you just need to twist gently like this” Pinching the stick just as he had instructed he gave the stick a gently tweak, you half expected the stick to be broken in half, but instead he pulled out a slender dagger hidden within the stick.

“Oh, wow,” You breathed as you saw your eyes reflecting off the metal, both parts gorgeous and functional. Gently taking the dagger from his hand you inspected its slender form, the paper lantern charm surprisingly very light and posing no difficulty or obstruction as you held the handle. “Mikey, this is beautiful, thank you. Where did you get this?”

“I might have bought it online...with Donnie’s help,” Smiling down at you with a softness that reached his eyes, the bright blue irises brimming with pride at how much you loved the gift. “I wanted to get you something pretty that you’d use daily and could protect you! Just in case I’m not there...and can’t protect you myself,” He looked uncomfortable as he admitted this, the thought of you getting hurt sending a wave of anxiety through him. Placing the accessory in his hand with a gentle, reassuring smile you reached up the under hand to his chin and lifted his head so that he could gaze at you.

“Can you help me put it in?” You requested, wanting to distract him from the thoughts threatening to cloud Mikey’s mood. That bright smile you would shield anything from returned to his face immediately, popping the tip of the hair stick between his lips while his hands began raking gently through your hair when you turned around.

“I looked up a couple of YouTube videos on how to do this,” You could hear and feel the warmth in his voice, closing your eyes and relaxing as Mikey molded your hair to secure the hair stick within.

#TMNT #TMNT scenario #no specific iteration #Leonardo #Donatello #Raphael #Michelangelo #Leo #Raph #Donnie #Mikey #TMNT x reader #leo x reader #raph x reader #donnie x reader #mikey x reader

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kalyanamfurniture · 1 year ago

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Whether in the living area, bedroom or hallway – the Arizona sideboard can be placed in any room in your home. With its rustic exterior, it sets an individual accent and stands out from pure wooden furniture in an original way. Do not hesitate any longer: order the chest of drawers with doors today!

#tv shelves for living room #poster bed online #solid wood dressing table with mirror #solid wood study table #tv shelves design for living room #buy tv units online #tv console for living room #wooden storage cabinets online india #solid wood study table with storage #wooden dressing table

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winged-self-indulgence · 1 year ago

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“…this time when you roll upwards, make sure to land in the malasana pose with your palms pressed together and centered over your heart.”

You obeyed the low, sultry tones of the yoga instructor coming from your phone, inhaling in and exhaling out deep breaths while mimicking their fluid movements to the best of your ability. You kept your eyes resolutely forward, both to ensure that you remained focused on the workout, but also to keep your attention off the demon seated behind you.

Z had been quiet for the past several minutes. Uncharacteristically so. A part of you wanted to turn around and check on them, but you were also wary of doing anything that might cause them to act up. Z was capricious at the best of times, and predicting the whims of a demon was an exercise in futility.

Still, you couldn’t quite tamp down the combination of nerves and curiosity bubbling in your chest. What was he doing?

Playing it as naturally as you could, you followed the workout video’s instructions to breathe in as you pushed your lower body up into a forward fold. Blood rushed to your head for a second as you let your head hang down, giving you a brief window of opportunity to peek through the gap between your spread legs.

The demon was just. Sitting there. Legs crossed on the floor, knees tucked under the coffee-table. Scarlet eyes fixed on you with unsettling intensity through the gaps in his hair. His chin was propped up on ash-black knuckles, the other hand splayed flat over the wood surface (Later on you would walk past and notice the four lines of grooves scratched deep into the tabletop). His tail swayed from side to side like a metronome, but it was the only part of him that moved.

In fact, now that you thought about it, Z was in the exact same position he’d been in when you’d started your workout 20 minutes ago.

A bit unnerved, you paused the video and stood up. “Are you bored or something?” You called out, swinging upright and sweeping the hair out of your face. Now it was your turn to stare as the demon seemed to return from wherever their mind had taken them. They cocked their head, and you folded your arms over your chest. “You haven’t moved in almost half an hour. Are you still mad that I didn’t want to go on a date with you today?”

“How petty do you think I am, Dove?” Z placed a hand on their chest, lips twisting into a melodramatic pout. “Do you honestly believe that I am the type of person who would hold onto such grudges? That I would despair over the fact that my darling little human doesn't want to spend a whole day with me, and would rather do…what did you call this activity?”

“Yoga. And I said I’m not committing arson with you, Z. At least not without a solid alibi in place,” you rolled your eyes at his antics. “And since you keep forgetting that human laws exist and that jail is a very real place, then yoga it is.”

“Awww, Dove. You're so cute. You really think I would let you spend a second out of my sight?” Z chuckled and sprang to his feet, slinking up to you with mischievous intent. Your eyes narrowed, half surprised and half suspicious when Z craned his neck over your shoulder to study the tanned blonde woman on screen. The subtitles below informed the viewer that she was rotating from a downward-facing dog into a flip. “Hmph. Looks weird.”

“Some moves can be. Difficult too,” you agreed, grimacing as you remembered how much your stomach had hurt after holding a boat pose for too long. “Sometimes I can’t hold the stances for long enough, and then I just get frustrated with myself.”

Z hummed in acknowledgement, and then a sharp grin crossed their face. “Why don’t I help out?”

“You what?” You blurted, unable to stifle your surprise. “You want to...help me with my work-out?”

“Well since someone doesn’t want to help me burn down a really ugly mega-mansion, I suppose this will suffice for a date activity,” Z sighed dejectedly. “Besides, how hard can it be? All I have to do is make sure your poses are correct and last for as long as you’re supposed to, right?”

“I mean. I suppose so…” You agreed slowly, searching his face - or what little of it you could see - for a sign that this was one of his jokes. “Are you sure?"

"You're gonna hurt my feelings, you know," Z pinched your chin between two fingers, the pad of his thumb pressing down on the plush swell of your upper lip. He shook your head gently, firmly, commandingly. "I said I'd help, and so I will. All you need to do is say 'thank you Z'."

"Thank you Z," you parroted obediently, unthinkingly. Despite your wariness, you couldn’t help the little thrum of excitement. "Okay, give me a second.” You quickly pulled up one of your usual routines and got into position.

As it turned out, your suspicion had been extremely warranted. Oh, the demon certainly pretended to play along at first; indulging your adorable determination to push from cow to cat to dolphin pose while his hands remained chastely on your waist or between your shoulder blades. However, it didn’t take long for the façade to fall away in exponentially quick increments.

Domineering fingers resting far too low on the small of your back while you were in downward-dog. A greedy hand cupping between your legs when you settled in a leg-lift. The bulge of his cock squeezing between your ass cheeks when you stretched into an extended puppy pose, the girthy weight of it obvious through both his jeans and your very thin yoga pants.

“Fuck, do you have any idea how much of a tease you’ve been, Dove?” Z groaned; one hand was shoved up your shirt to play with your nipples while the other sliced a convenient hole in your pants. Before you could complain, the flat end of his tail slid into your mouth, pressing your tongue down until all you could do was drool and whine while the demon admired the sopping wet mess between your thighs. “I’ve been holding back all day while you flaunted yourself in front me. How cruel, sweetheart.”

Hypocrite. You tried to shout his name, tell him to hurry up and do something, but the tail in your mouth gagged you effectively. Nevertheless, he must have picked up on what you wanted because it didn’t take long for two fingers to slide inside you, stretching you open with a ruthless and perverse desire to watch you cry.

“Ah-ah-ah,” Z clicked his tongue admonishingly when you tried to sit up. “You’re not done with your workout yet, Dove. Face down, hips up, now.”

“But–!” The threat of fangs against the nape of your neck froze your complaints, and the obscene stretch of his cock sliding into you halted them completely. Saliva poured from the corner of your mouth, eyes rolling up into your head as his hips slapped against your ass. Obscene squelches echoed throughout the room as every harsh thrust forced thick globs of cream to drip down your thighs, the noise mixing with your own loud whimpers and Z’s feral growls.

“How are you always so tight?” The demon hissed. His teeth drew rivulets of blood which he licked away, tongue raking over your throat to mark the spot for another bite. Your hips bucked unconsciously, the movement causing your body to squeeze around his cock. Z retaliated with a harsh thrust, one that nearly knocked you to the ground. The demon’s moan was interspersed with a low, rasping laugh. “So fucking needy, huh baby? Need me to fuck you over and over so this poor little hole never forgets what it feels like to have me inside you? Make you my pretty little mess, is that it? Yeah, that’s it, Dove. You can come if you want to. Doesn’t mean I’ll be done with you after though.”

#i need to stop staying up late and letting the demons win #favor game #favor vn #my fic #male yandere #male yandere x reader

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lunarubra · 1 year ago

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Hi :) this is the first chapter of the Shadow of the Sea, let me know what you think about it in the comments. A big thank you to @cillmequick for beta-reading and being the sweetest person ever. I wouldn't have published it without her assurance that it doesn't completely suck.

Pairing: Cillian x OC (Jiyan)

Summary: In this AU set in 2010, Cillian has just finished filming 'Inception'. He has never been married, and after a few disappointing relationships, he finds himself feeling blocked in his personal life, even as his career continues to rise.This is a completely fictional story, not based on real life. I wrote this with the utmost respect for the man and his family.

Warning: Homesickness, Family Distance, Mention of Sexual Assault (not between OC and Cillian), Sexual Harassment, Date Rape Drug/Roofies

Words: 2700

Next | Masterlist

Chapter 1: Eire's Depths

Closing the laptop with too much force, Jiyan started massaging her temples, hoping to alleviate the tension and praying she wouldn't have to deal with a migraine anytime soon.

The library was silent; the only sound was the rain against the windows, soothing the last students. Even if the new semester just started, there were only a few people left in the study area on a Saturday afternoon. Most students had already headed to the pub for a pint or were getting ready for the clubs later.

Jiyan checked her phone, noticing too many messages she had been ignoring since the morning. Sighing, she opened her brother's chat and found three unread messages.

14h11: Ready for a call later?

16h22: Mom is pacing, almost started ironing. You need to call tonight.

18h42: Seriously sis... if you don't call tonight, I will sedate her and take the first plane to yours.

Jiyan chuckled and quickly answered Mikael.

19h13: Ironing, huh? Almost need an intervention.

19h13: Will call soon, little bro. Don't despair.

Clearing the table of books and notes, she put her laptop and the last few things away in her backpack.

Outside, it was raining. Again.

And it was dark. Already.

Coming from a country where the sun kissed Jiyan's skin almost every day, the continuous rain on this island pierced her heart each time. She was tired and hoped to get home, have a cup of tea, and finally make the call she had been postponing for the last two weeks, perhaps even forgetting what she was doing on this verdant yet depressingly weathered island.

The ride to her place was fast, and the bus was on time, something she was gradually getting used to. Entering the small studio made her feel restless and anxious, intensifying the pressure on her temples. Looking around the space she had started calling home in the last few months did ease her discomfort a little.

Having spent her childhood moving to different countries, Jiyan was acutely aware of the housing crises almost everywhere. Still, she was taken aback by the difficulty of finding a flat in Dublin.

After a month spent in a hostel dorm and countless useless house visits, her desperation reached a point where she considered a dubious Craigslist post seeking help in renovating an old studio.

When she first checked it out, she realized the studio was actually above a car repair shop, and apparently, no one had lived there for about 30 years. Sean, the guy who owned the shop, almost cracked up when she asked about costs and materials. It took her a good 5 minutes to persuade him that she was capable of almost any woodworking task and that she could undertake the restorations in her spare time and during weekends if she could live there. They struck a deal: Sean would foot the bill for materials, and until the renovation was done, she'd cover her living expenses by doing all the work herself.

After two months of solid effort, she'd managed to put in new wood floors, set up a functional bathroom with a brand-new shower, and even start building herself a kitchen. Sure, the place was small, didn't have central heating, and still looked like a bit of a mess, but the one thing that sealed the deal for her was the wood stove. It reminded her of her mom’s cabin up in the mountains, where she'd spend lazy afternoons by the fire, lost in a good book with a cup of tea in hand. So, if she could bring a bit of that cozy feeling into her new place, she figured she'd be all set, even with juggling her university work and research study.

It took a couple of minutes to get the fire going and put the kettle on for some fresh mint green tea. Once she finished her first cup, she dialed her little brother's number.

"Finally, are you becoming such a loser that you're spending your Saturday at the library now?"

"It's called work, Mika. Something you'll learn soon enough."

"Yeah, of course, like I'm not living with a psychopath right now. She almost started ironing the bed sheets, Aji. We need an intervention here, immediately. Mom never cleans; she moved from Turkey because she couldn't stand spending her time cleaning. You need to convince her that you're fine."

"I am fine," Jiyan repeated for the thousandth time. "And Mom moved from Turkey because we're Kurds, and she wanted to avoid spending her time in jail for teaching her language in school."

"You're fine?" Mikael said incredulously. "You're living in the land of Mordor. It's been a week since you've seen any sun; I checked the weather!"

"It's not that bad. I'm starting to like the rain," Jiyan said, convincing no one. "And I like the job."

"Is that Aji?" she heard her mom in the background, stealing the phone from her brother.

"Aji, how are you?" her mother's worried voice asked.

"Hey Mom, I'm good. Mika told me you need an intervention."

"Your brother should be studying for his finals, focusing on his Latin test," Jiyan's mother said after a pause. "It's been weeks since we've heard from you, Jiyan."

Jiyan stared out of the window, feeling guilt and pressure rising in her chest.

"I'm sorry, Mom. It's just... I'm super busy with work and renovation here. I started building the kitchen from scratch, and most of the time, I forget to check my phone. I'm fine, really," she tried to reassure her.

"You're avoiding, little star, and today is a difficult day for you. You should be here, not alone on an island without sun," her mother insisted.

Jiyan really didn't want to have this conversation; she moved to this island to avoid this topic.

"It's all good, Mom. It's not a big deal," she said. "Also, I'm meeting new people; it's a good change," she added, feeling the lie stinging her tongue.

She heard her mom sigh. "I miss you, little star."

"I miss you too, Mom. Also, Mika, I need to go now. I'll call you next week."

"You do that, or I'm sending your brother there to check on you."

Jiyan chuckled and smiled. "We'll lose him at the first change of trains."

"Every battle has its losses."

Now really laughing, she closed the call. "Love you, Mom."

"Love you too, little star."

Jiyan put down her phone, staring again at the window. She knew she needed a distraction and couldn't spend the rest of the day inside alone. Not even building furniture could distract her today.

She put on her jacket and boots, grabbed the keys, almost sprinting outside in the rain.

Again.

Snap.

5 points.

Snap.

5 points.

Snap.

15 points.

Sighing disappointedly, Jiyan walked over to the dartboard to retrieve the darts. It had been two weeks since she discovered this pub near her place. The music was usually pretty good, and it could be a cozy spot during weeknights. It wasn't usually too crowded, which suited her just fine. She'd come in to have a soda and play darts, avoiding the regulars and the occasional group of tourists who tried to strike up a conversation.

She knew she stood out as a woman in a pub on a Saturday night, playing darts alone. That night, she had already dodged two American tourists who tried to flirt and offer to "teach her" how to play.

On the other hand, the regulars, after giving her strange looks for the first couple of nights, now hardly noticed or bothered her, accepting the odd loner who didn't drink beer and spent hours throwing darts. Tonight, unfortunately, the pub was busier than usual, with some tourist groups disturbing her vibe.

Feeling a presence behind her, she tensed up immediately.

"Hey, baby, what are you drinking? Can I buy you the next round?"

Jiyan turned around to face a stranger who looked like the typical Chad character from any American high school drama.

"No thanks, I'm good," she replied shortly, turning back to focus on her game.

"Come on, I saw you looking at me. You were checking me out, I saw you."

"Excuse me?" she said, annoyed, not having a clue what he was talking about.

"Yeah, when you went to order your drink, you smiled. The guys and I are having a blast; you could come join us. I promise you a great night."

Jiyan took a deep breath, trying not to get too annoyed. "Listen, Chad, if that's even your name—I don't care. I'm not here to make friends or have a good time with your guys. I was having fun until 30 seconds ago when I didn't even know of your existence. Can we go back to that, please? Thanks, bro."

"My name's not Chad," he replied, irritated.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Jiyan said dismissively, hoping the conversation would end there, and she could get back to her new form of therapy: throwing darts.

Chad returned to his table muttering something about a "stupid bitch," but Jiyan didn't have the energy tonight to educate a stranger about basic respect and boundaries.

She took the last sip of her lemonade and headed to the bathroom, ordering another one from the bartender. When she returned, finding the new bottle of lemonade near the dartboard, she resumed her evening.

Cillian was onto his second pint when his attention wandered again to the peculiar woman in the far corner of the pub, throwing darts.

She seemed to be in her late 20s, sporting a hand-knit beanie that partially obscured her long dark hair. Her frame was small, drowned in a pair of jeans and an oversized dark hoodie. Each time she retrieved her darts from the board and turned around, Cillian found himself momentarily distracted from the conversation, captivated by her large green-leaf eyes.

Despite her efforts to blend in with her dull, oversized attire, every straight man in the pub couldn't help but notice her attractiveness.

Dermot, noticing Cillian's repeated glances, remarked, "She's new around here, lives in the area, spends her nights alone playing darts. Connor was annoyed the first night because she doesn't drink or eat, but apparently, she tips well, so we see her almost every night now."

Cillian raised an eyebrow at his friend. "Do you stalk all the newbies at the pub? Should I be worried? Should I give Connie a call?"

Dermot chuckled. "Like you didn't glance in her direction every five seconds. Just doing you a favor, pal."

Snorting, Cillian covered his blush with a sip from his pint. "I was just curious, and I wasn't staring at her the whole time."

"Sure, sure. Maybe we don't need to worry about you after all. You've been holed up in your basement for a month, and now look at you! You should go talk to her."

Cillian shook his head. "I'm gearing up for the new role, and it's been busy..."

Dermot glanced at his friend. "It's okay, you know, to try again? You're not a bad guy, and not all stories work out, mate."

Cillian looked down at his pint, taking another sip. He hadn't wanted to go out tonight and dwell on his last relationship. After a couple of weeks of seclusion, he was finally finding his balance. It wasn't that he missed her; they both knew the interest had faded months ago. They had reached a point where they were uncomfortable around each other and only ended up hurting one another.

He was just tired.

At 34, he was already questioning if this was it, his life—filled only with jobs he loved and relationships that would fill his life for a few months before inevitably ending.

Glancing up, he noticed a tourist from a nearby table approaching the young woman. Dermot and he said nothing for a moment, watching with interest. She appeared mostly annoyed and seemed to handle the situation well. After a brief exchange, she returned to her darts, and the guy slunk back to his table looking disgruntled.

Dermot chuckled after a sip from his pint, jesting, "Or maybe not the best idea, it looks like not even your piercing blue eyes would work this time."

Cillian snorted. "I think Enda would kill me if I showed up tomorrow with anything less than perfect condition. He owns me until the end of this play."

"Best not risk it, then."

They spent the next half-hour joking, with Dermot updating Cillian on Corinna and their new pregnancy. Cillian tried not to glance at the dartboard anymore, but he couldn't help but notice the American guy hurrying back to her corner after she ordered something from the bar, only to return to his table before she came back. Hopefully, he had finally realized she wasn't interested.

Around 11, they both decided to settle the bill and end their Saturday night.

Connor asked if everything was okay, and they both tipped him generously. It had taken some time for Cillian to find a place where no one cared about him or his career, and he didn't want to ruin it.

While Dermot quickly went to the restroom, Cillian cast one last glance at the dartboard, only to find the corner of the pub empty, with only her half-drunk bottle remaining.

Connor followed his gaze and grunted. "She forgot to pay, these damn tourists."

Surprised, Cillian looked at him. "I can cover her tab..."

"Why should you?" interrupted Connor, waving his hand dismissively. "She's here most nights; it will be covered, don't worry."

While waiting for Dermot, Cillian's eyes wandered to the American group's table, where they were laughing and shaking their heads conspiratorially. He noticed almost immediately that the persistent guy was missing and a bad feeling washed over him.

"Ready? Conie's going to kill me if I get home too late again, and maybe this time I can avoid sleeping on the couch," Dermot said, noticing Cillian's worried expression.

"What?" he asked Cillian.

Shaking his head, Cillian replied, "Nothing, let's go. Goodnight, Connor."

"Goodnight, lads."

Stepping outside, the cold, fresh air jolted Cillian awake. The street was quiet, unusually empty for a Saturday night. Glancing around before bidding farewell to Dermot, something caught his eye. In the corner of the street near the alley that led to the back of the pub, he noticed a jacket he recognized from inside. Dermot was saying something to him, but he wasn't paying attention, drawn closer to the alley where he found the guy from inside with his arms around an intoxicated young woman. She seemed unaware of what was happening and unable to stand on her own.

"Hey! What are you doing to her?" Cillian exclaimed, getting the guy's attention.

The guy jumped, almost letting the girl fall to the ground.

"Just helping her, man," he replied quickly. "Mind your business and go back inside."

Dermot, who had reached Cillian by then, also saw the scene unfolding before them. "What the fuck is happening here?"

The guy appeared more concerned now and, realizing Cillian wasn't alone, released the woman he was carrying, pushing past Cillian to leave the alley.

Cillian quickly moved closer, trying to catch her before she hit the ground. She now looked unconscious, and he gently laid her down, checking her vitals.

"What the fuck, man, this is so fucked up," Dermot said.

"Dermot, call 999. I'm not sure if she's breathing properly," Cillian said, alarmed. "Who knows what the fuck he gave her."

He wasn't paying attention to his friend but was focused on trying to make her a bit more comfortable. After a few moments of cradling her head, he noticed her scrunching her nose and grimacing. She opened her eyes, and Cillian found himself momentarily lost in them.

"Hey," he said softly as she stared at him. "It's going to be okay, alright? Just breathe; the ambulance is coming."

She didn't respond, just continued gazing at him with those beautiful green eyes, looking a little confused.

"It's going to be okay," he repeated, even softer this time. "I'm here. You're not alone. Just rest."

And she smiled, causing his heart to skip a beat, before closing those bright jade eyes once more.

Next | Masterlist

Thank you so much for taking the time to read. Your feedback, in any form, makes me happy. See you at the next one :)

amazing dividers from cafekitsune

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy x oc #cillian murphy imagine #cillian x fem!reader #ari's little corner

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marshmellowfluff221 · 9 months ago

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May I request Levi with a younger cadet where he thinks he’s too old for her but she likes that a lot? Love your fics!

A/N: Of C O U R S E! This is so cute :) I'm glad you like them!!

It took a long, long time. Levi was stubborn and so were you. It started when you transfered over to help him after finding out Eren was a titan. Your job was mostly to survey the kid but you had a second job in studying the way titans are. You were young, but brilliant and that's why you had the title you did. Not as young as the kids you helped, but younger than Levi, enough for him to judge your ways. He likes old school, you like to change his ways.

Of course you and Hange immediately clicked. Sharing notes and research papers, it was a full on party every time you two were alone together. Levi broke that party up every time, complaining that you two should be working and not gossiping. It was the day Hange asked if he was jealous and the blush crept onto his cheeks that you fell for him. He always had a stern attitude but in that moment you saw how kind he was, how vunerable he could be.

So, you began to hang around him more. Eventually, you confessed. He stared at you for a solid minute and each second that passed you wondered if you had broken him. Eventually he gave the excuse that you were too young and needed to grow up. He flicked your forehead on the way out. But that didn't really stop you. You didn't bug him about it and he didn't seem to mind when you hung around him. The two of you became close. The crush you had on him didn't make it awkward and about a month into your friendship you had even made him laugh.

Levi found you attractive the second you appeared at the training camps. He found you even more attractive when he noticed how passionate you were about your work. But he couldn't bring himself to confess to you or do anything about it. Afterall, he figured you wouldn't like someone as old as him. However, when you confessed he had been so shocked he gave out his excuse. He knew it would be a problem in the future, the age gap. Levi beat himself up for it when he made it back to his room.

Regardless of the long time it took, the two of you ended up dating. It happened after he flat out kissed you in the middle of the woods on a mission. A month into dating, Levi's fears began to come true.

Your friend, Gerald, had been sent to accompany your studies. He had grew up with you and was your age. That's exactly what Levi feared. He watched from afar as the two of you laughed together and worked together. A week of it was torture already.

"So, Y/n." Gerald leaned forward, you looked up from the sketch of the titan you were drawing. A label sat on each of the important parts of the anatomy of the titan. "Do you think we should go out into the woods? Maybe look at the wildlife and how they react when Eren transforms?"

"Hm." You hummed, tapping your pencil on your cheek. "That might be a good idea. I should ask Levi if Eren is available this afternoon." You smiled at him, getting up from your seat and tapping him on the shoulder as you stepped over to the table that Levi was working on.

"Hey-"

"What do you want." Levi's voice was cold, emotionless. You furrowed your brows, taken back by his tone.

"Are you okay?" You asked, worried something might have happened.

"Do I need to repeat myself?" Levi sighed. This wasn't like him. He was never this snappy towards you of all people. You shook your head and grabbed his arm tightly. He looked up at you, an emotionless expression.

"Outside. Now." You yanked on his arm and began walking outside, Levi following. Once out of the room you let go of his arm, turning on your heel to face him. "What is wrong with you? Why are you talking to me like that?"

"Nothing is wrong. This is how I always talk." Levi shrugged, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. "If you have a problem why don't you ask Gerald."

The moment he said his name the gears began turning in your mind. "Are you jealous?" You blurted out the conclusion you came to. He had to be.

He was. His silence said it all.

"Levi...I'm dating you, and Gerald is just a work buddy."

"Yeah but he's your age." Levi muttered lowly. You almost laughed, but held it in once you realized he was serious.

"Wait- you think I want to date Gerald just because he's my age?" You asked. "Levi. I'm dating you. I know we have a gap in our age but that doesn't make me love you any less."

Levi looked up at you at your words. His eyes a little wider than before. His lips parted as if he wanted to say something but no words came out.

"What?" You grew confused at his reaction.

"You said you love me?" He asked. There it was, his vunerable side that you fell in love with. You nodded slowly. He smiled that small smile of his. "I do too. I'm sorry about earlier, I just figured if I was rude you'd be okay with leaving me for him."

You smiled back shaking your head at him.

"Oh, and Eren is free, go ahead." Levi said, pushing himself off the wall.

"How'd you know? Were you ease dropping?"

"No, you just talk loud."

He was definitely ease dropping.

#levi x reader #levi aot #levi ackerman #aot x y/n #aot anime #aot x reader

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bigbootyjestinita · 1 month ago

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Armin Alert + Eren Yeager x Chubby Black Fem! Reader

The apartment door clicked shut behind you with a finality that seemed to echo through your chest. Your vision blurred with tears as you leaned back against the cool wood, letting out a shaky breath that turned into a broken sob. The cruel words from your now ex-boyfriend replayed in your mind like a broken record, each syllable cutting deeper than the last.

"I just can't find you attractive... overweight... ugly stretch marks... I can't love you."

You pressed your glasses up your nose with a trembling hand, trying to wipe away the tears that wouldn't stop falling. Your curly hair had gotten messy from the wind outside, and you probably looked like a complete mess, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

The gentle voice made you look up through your tears. Armin was there, having abandoned his textbooks on the couch, his blonde bob slightly disheveled from running his fingers through it while studying. His square glasses reflected the hallway light as he approached you with concern written across his features, his lean frame moving with careful urgency.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your studying," you managed to whisper, your voice breaking on the words.

"Don't apologize," Armin said softly, reaching out to gently touch your arm. "What happened? You're shaking."

Before you could answer, you heard footsteps, and Eren appeared from his room, his dark hair messy like he'd been lying down. His earrings caught the light as he took in the scene, his green eyes immediately softening when he saw your tear-streaked face.

"Shit, what's going on?" Eren's voice was rough with concern as he quickly crossed the hallway to join Armin at your side.

"Come on," Armin murmured, his hand sliding down to intertwine with yours, his touch warm and comforting. "Let's sit down."

Eren's large hand found the small of your back, guiding you toward the couch with surprising gentleness. The cool metal of his rings against your skin through your shirt sent an unexpected shiver through you, even in your emotional state.

They settled you between them on the plush couch, Armin keeping hold of your hand while Eren grabbed the box of tissues from the coffee table, his chain catching the lamplight as he moved.

"Take your time," Eren said, his voice uncharacteristically soft as he handed you a tissue. "We're here."

You felt their warmth on either side of you, solid and reassuring. Armin's thumb traced gentle circles over your knuckles while Eren's hand rested on your knee, a comforting weight that grounded you.

After a few minutes of their patient presence, your tears began to slow. You took a shaky breath, finally meeting their worried gazes.

"He broke up with me," you whispered, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.

Armin's grip on your hand tightened, while Eren's jaw clenched visibly.

"What did he say?" Armin asked gently, though there was steel beneath his soft tone.

You looked down at your intertwined hands, shame washing over you. "He said... he said he couldn't find me attractive. That I'm overweight and have ugly stretch marks, and he couldn't love someone like me."

The silence that followed was deafening. When you dared to look up, both boys were staring at you with expressions of such fierce protectiveness that it took your breath away.

"That piece of shit," Eren growled, his free hand clenching into a fist. "How dare he—"

"Eren," Armin interrupted quietly, but his own anger was evident in the way his shoulders tensed. "Let her talk."

You felt fresh tears welling up as the insecurities you'd carried for so long spilled out. "Maybe he's right, though. Maybe I am too much. These stretch marks, this body... I just want to be loved too. Girls need love too, you know? But maybe I'm not worthy of it."

"Stop." Eren's voice was firm as he turned to face you fully, his hands coming up to frame your face. "Look at me."

Your eyes met his intense green gaze, and you saw something there that made your heart skip.

"You are fucking beautiful," he said with such conviction that it made you gasp. "Every single part of you. Your smile, your dimples, the way your glasses frame your perfect face, your gorgeous skin, your soft curves, everything."

"Eren's right," Armin said, his voice taking on a quality you'd never heard before - deeper, more intense. "You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?"

You looked between them, confusion mixing with the flutter of something warm in your chest. "What do you mean?"

Armin's free hand came up to gently remove your glasses, setting them carefully on the coffee table before his fingers traced along your cheek. "We mean that we've been in love with you for months, and watching you doubt yourself breaks our hearts."

"We've been trying to figure out how to tell you," Eren added, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "But seeing you cry over some asshole who doesn't deserve you... we can't stay quiet anymore."

Your breath hitched as you processed their words. "Both of you?"

"Both of us," Armin confirmed, leaning closer. "We want to show you exactly how loved you are, if you'll let us."

The air between you three seemed to crackle with tension and possibility. You could feel the heat radiating from both their bodies, see the desire and affection burning in their eyes.

"I don't understand how you could want me," you whispered, your insecurities still clinging like shadows.

Eren's answer was to lean in and capture your lips in a kiss that was gentle yet passionate, his hands tangling in your curly hair. When you broke apart, breathless, Armin was there, his lips finding yours in a softer but no less intense kiss that tasted like mint and promises.

"Let us show you," Armin murmured against your lips, his tongue piercing catching the light as he spoke. "Let us worship every inch of you until you understand how perfect you are."

Eren's hands had found the hem of your shirt, his fingers tracing the soft skin of your stomach with reverence. "These stretch marks?" he whispered, pressing gentle kisses along your neck. "They're beautiful. They're part of you, and we love every single one."

You shivered as Armin's lips found the sensitive spot behind your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "You're so soft," he murmured, his hands skimming along your curves. "So perfect."

The way they touched you - like you were something precious, something to be cherished - made your head spin. Their hands and lips seemed to be everywhere, worshipping your body with a tenderness that brought tears to your eyes for entirely different reasons.

Eren's lips found your throat, sucking gently at the sensitive skin while his hands explored the curves of your waist, fingers tracing patterns that made you arch against him. "You taste so fucking sweet," he growled against your neck, his voice rough with desire.

Armin's hands had found the soft skin of your thighs, his touch feather-light yet burning as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder. "So pretty," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "Do you feel how much we want you?"

You could barely catch your breath as Eren's hands slipped under your shirt, his calloused palms mapping the soft expanse of your stomach with reverent touches. "These beautiful marks," he whispered, pressing kisses to each stretch mark he could reach. "They drive me crazy. You're so perfect."

Armin's tongue piercing grazed your earlobe as he spoke, sending shivers down your spine. "We've dreamed about this," he confessed, his usually gentle voice thick with want. "About showing you exactly how beautiful you are."

Your hands found their way to their bodies - slipping under Eren's shirt to feel the hard planes of his chest and abs, tracing the sharp lines of his v-cut while your other hand explored Armin's lean muscle through his clothes. Both boys groaned at your touch, Eren's sound deep and primal while Armin's was breathier, more desperate.

"Please," you whispered, not even sure what you were asking for, just knowing you needed more of them, more of this feeling of being completely desired.

Eren's answer was to capture your lips again, this kiss deeper and more demanding than before. His tongue explored your mouth while his hands grew bolder, palms covering your breasts completely, thumbs teasing through the fabric in a way that made you arch into his touch with a soft cry.

"Fuck, you sound so pretty," Eren growled against your lips, his rings cool against your heated skin as he squeezed gently.

When you broke apart, gasping, Armin was there, his kiss slower but no less intense, his tongue piercing dragging against yours in a way that made you moan loudly into his mouth. His hands had found your hips, pulling you completely into his lap so you could feel exactly how much he wanted you.

"Can you feel what you do to us?" Armin whispered against your ear, his voice strained with desire. "How hard you make us just by existing?"

"We love you," Eren whispered against your collarbone, his voice rough with emotion and desire. "Both of us, completely and utterly."

"So much," Armin agreed, his lips trailing along your jawline, nipping gently at your skin. "You're everything to us."

Eren's mouth found the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder, sucking hard enough to leave a dark mark while his hands grew more possessive, one slipping under your shirt to palm your breast directly, skin to skin. "Mine," he growled against your throat, teeth grazing. "Ours."

You gasped sharply at the dual sensation of Eren's calloused hand on your bare skin and Armin grinding up against you from below, both boys working in perfect synchronization to drive you wild.

"Look how beautiful you are when you let go," Armin murmured roughly, his usual gentle demeanor completely gone as he watched your face contort with pleasure. "We want to see more. We want to see everything."

Their touches became more urgent, more desperate. Eren's mouth trailed lower, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to the swell of your breasts while Armin's hands squeezed your hips, guiding your movements against him in a rhythm that had you panting.

"That's it, baby," Eren praised roughly, his voice muffled against your skin. "Let us take care of you. Let us show you how a real man treats the woman he loves."

Armin's hands found the hem of your shirt, fingers dancing along the edge. "Can we?" he asked, though his tone was more demand than question. "Can we see all of you? Show you how fucking gorgeous every inch of your body is?"

As they continued their passionate assault on your senses, mapping every curve and soft spot with dedicated attention, you felt something inside you healing. The cruel words from earlier were being erased, replaced by whispered endearments and touches that set your skin on fire.

"I love you too," you finally whispered, the words falling from your lips like a prayer. "Both of you."

The smiles that broke across their faces were radiant, but there was something darker, more possessive in their eyes now. Eren's hands tightened on your waist while Armin's fingers traced dangerously low on your thigh.

"Good," Eren murmured, his voice a low rumble against your throat. "Because we're going to spend all night proving exactly how much you mean to us."

Armin's hand cupped your face, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "Every beautiful inch of you," he whispered, his usual sweetness edged with something that made your breath hitch. "Until you never doubt yourself again."

You could feel the heat radiating from both their bodies, the way they pressed closer, surrounding you completely. Eren's mouth found yours again, hungrier this time, while Armin's lips worked along your neck, finding spots that made you gasp and arch between them.

"Mmm, just like that," Armin praised, his breath hot against your skin. "So perfect for us."

Their touches grew bolder, more insistent, hands exploring with reverent passion that left you breathless and wanting. In their arms, surrounded by their desire and devotion, you finally understood what it meant to be truly worshipped.

As they continued to show you exactly how much you were loved - with whispered confessions, burning touches, and kisses that left you dizzy with want - you realized that this was just the beginning. They had promised to prove your worth all night long, and from the fire in their eyes, you knew they intended to keep that promise.

The night stretched ahead of you, full of possibilities and passion, and for the first time in your life, you felt truly, completely loved.

This is the last chapter from my book "girls need love 🎀" so if y'all enjoyed it please share some love on my wattpad! 💕

#black fem! reader x eren yeager #black fem! reader x armin alert #spice fest #new post #nerd armin #attack on titan #girls need love #bigbootyjestinita

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mxigo · 9 months ago

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all of me | part 3

SERIES SYNOPSIS: A muggle born witch soldiering for the Light finds herself captured by death eater Lucius Malfoy. Spellbinding her from her own magic, he is given the task to go through her memories to see if she knows anything about the last of the Order of the Phoenix. While sifting through her mind, Lucius discovers secrets pertaining to the past she and his son Draco share that could jeopardize his safety. As they are forced to spend more time together, the witch starts to see through the cracks of Lucius' facade as a dark wizard, and Lucius finds himself enraptured by the beauty of her gentle, bleeding heart.

WARNINGS: 18+, angst, swearing, non-con, sa, age gap, essentially mature themes. inspired by manacled, please read with discretion.

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

MINORS & AGE-LESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED. YOUR AGE MUST BE SOMEWHERE IN YOUR BIO OR YOUR BYF.

SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT CHAPTER

Anger burned in Lucius’ chest for the first time in years as he stared into the flames of his stone fireplace in his room. The tumbler of fire whiskey swirled in its glass as he took another long draw, shooting the rest of it in a single pull before nearly slamming the glass on to the solid wood of the table.

It'd been years since he felt anything other than melancholy, and yet, this Mudblood managed to stoke his ire in just one moment. Despite how long it had been, the anguish of Narcissa’s death remained fresh. Some nights, it felt as if it was a lifetime ago that she was taken, while pain practically tricked him into believing that it just happened earlier that day.

How dare she bring up Narcissa. She had no right to mention her, or what happened to her. How could she possibly make such an assumption without even knowing the kind of woman his wife was? Narcissa was the light in Lucius’ dark days, the person that saw the world the same as Lucius. The person who also understood the severity of the new trajectory of their lives once Voldemort took residence in the Manor that year.

When the Dark Lord had Draco take his vow as a Death Eater in his place while he rotted in Azkaban, it was like the world suddenly flipped upside down. Never did he think that his son would take the vow so soon, and all because of his failure at the Ministry. With his son pulled into the fold, no longer did he care about what their cause was. They only cared to see that their son lived, by any means necessary.

A strange thought passed over Lucius, freezing him. What reason would his son have to not tell him about his personal interactions with his former professor? Was it because he was simply embarrassed that he was failing Astronomy, and that he was offered assistance by a Muggle-born? Lucius feared that it may be something more, but it was only a whisper of a conclusion. He needed to see more before he assumed anything worse.

The sudden chime from the grandfather clock in the corner of the room pulled him from his thoughts, chiming six times before stopping. A long sigh left him as he stared back into the fire, contemplating all that he had done in his life to lead up to the one that he had now. He set the glass tumbler on to one of the wooden coasters before standing, foregoing his usual overcoat to leave him in just his black silk blended button down and back trousers. He’d found himself letting go a bit more at home than when he had Narcissa around. In the back of his mind, he knew that it was because he didn’t see a reason to be put together when there is no one around to appear as such.

Draco was already sitting at the dining table when Lucius walked in, wearing a similar outfit to his him. Silence encased the room as Lucius took his seat at the head of the table like always, the pair rarely ever having anything to say to each other anymore. But knowing now what he knew about his son’s connection with the witch in the basement, Lucius was curious to what his son actually felt about her.

His eyes flitted up to study his son as he stared at the table, unmoving. Draco’s eyes distantly stared holes into the wood, his mind elsewhere.

“Draco,” Lucius started, his pointer finger tapping rhythmically on the solid wood of the table, “there was a rather odd memory that I extracted from the witch. Do you recall your midterm examination for her Astronomy class?”

Silence stretched once again through the room as Draco continued to stare at the table before he finally glanced over at his father, almost bored. He sighed, shifting his weight in his chair to appear nonchalant as he rolled his eyes.

“I know what you’re asking about; it wasn’t anything of importance. She was a Hufflepuff with a savior complex who felt that she could help and befriend everyone. It was just her nature,” Draco answered, letting his eyes wander to the ceiling, staring into the intricate painting spread across it.

The pair went back to ignoring each other, well, more so Draco ignored Lucius, focusing on his dinner before he excused himself to his rooms, leaving the older man with his thoughts once again. Lucius sighed, reclining into his chair and rested his head in his hand, rubbing his eyes. It was in moments like these where he couldn’t help but achingly wish for his wife to be here. Draco had been so distant from him in the years since her death, disregarding his presence almost entirely, and only speaking to him unless spoken to. There was also a sinking feeling in his gut that he was closer with the witch in his cellar than he was letting on, and he feared that because of what he would have to do, it may just be the tipping point for his son.

—

Mimsy took care in bathing you in the claw foot tub, gently washing and combing through your tangled hair, leaving no traces of what your life had consisted of before. Since leaving the cellar, your anger had cooled away into stone, leaving you in limbo, like nothing was real. You were numb to feeling anything, and honestly, you didn’t mind it.

Once clean, the elf disappeared and returned with a folded black towel in one hand and a midnight blue silk night dress in the other, to which she draped over the back of the vanity chair while you dried off. You remained quiet during her visit with you. While you dressed, Mimsy Apparated only for a minute before she came back with a tray of food in her hands, containing roasted chicken, green beans, potatoes, and a dinner roll. Although it all looked delicious, your stomach rolled at the sight of it. Mimsy sat it down in the guest room at the table before coming back.

“Is Miss needin’ anything else?” she asked, her large green eyes staring up at you.

You softly shook your head, your still-wet tendrils of hair swaying with the motion. “No, thank you, Mimsy. I’m fine.”

The elf looked up at you, unbelieving, but nodded, nonetheless.

“Just call if you be needin’ anything.”

She disappeared with a pop, leaving you with an empty room and your thoughts to keep you company.

Standing in the large and ornately decorated room in a silk shift made you long for a simple large worn cotton shirt and shorts something bad, for the simple comfort of something familiar. You still felt as if all of this was a dream. Perhaps you were in a magically induced coma since the end of the war, and Harry won against Voldemort, and you were only in St. Mungo’s where everyone was just waiting for you to wake.

The fantasy made your heart ache, and your lower lip trembled as tears burned in your eyes. But this was reality, one where you were now magically bound to Lucius Malfoy, where you would be defiled for his own enjoyment, and your mind would be flayed away day by day in search of the answers that he was looking for. Your body was no longer your own, and every memory and thought would be splayed open for him to sneer at.

A dark, ugly feeling began to fester in your chest. It made your hands shake and mouth go dry. You rushed into the bathroom, flipping open the faucet and grabbing a crystal tumbler from the tray next to you, letting it fill with water. Once filled, you threw your head back, chugging the cool water until it was empty, and you sat the glass back down, staring at the white counter. Then, after avoiding it all night, you finally looked up into the mirror.

You could hardly recognize the woman that peered back; her hair considerably duller than what you remembered, eyes sunken, and covered in bruises and old and scabbing cuts. Then, on her arm, you caught the scar that you tried so hard to forget about.

MUDBLOOD.

With a raging bellow, you picked up the glass from the countertop and chucked it at the mirror, shattering them into hundreds of pieces, spilling over onto the marble floors of the bathroom. Rage and agony bubbled up inside and spilled over as heaving sobs, leaving your face sweaty and slick, your hair sticking to the surface of it. As your feet moved to steady you, the shards bit through the skin of your heels in tiny, sharp flicks of fire.

How were you supposed to keep hopeful in such a hopeless situation? You had no autonomy, no magic, no help. Was this all it was going to take to break you? Just a simple glance in the mirror at a reflection of a scar that you had seen for years now? There were others out there being tortured every waking second, and you were here collapsing in on yourself.

Be brave, Sunny, Tonks’ voice whispered in your head, bringing a new wave of tears, but this time, in grief. The memory of her body crumpling to the ground next to you in that field at Hogwarts was burned into your mind, the shrieking laughs from Bellatrix bouncing around.

Your godson’s sweet face looking up at you morphed from his mother’s, as you remembered the last day you spent with him in Edinburgh. You left him with Luna before you went to Belfast nearly three months ago, and it wasn’t long after that you were chased to Germany.

Grief bubbled up deep in your chest, festering until it spilled over. Your face twisted in agony, the dam bursting as streams poured from your eyes, and a wail ripping from your lips. Your body shook with the force of the sobs, and your fingers threaded through the roots of your hair, tugging painfully. You screamed again, but this time in shock as someone popped into your room.

Through the doorway, Lucius stood in your room, looking around frantically. It took only moments for him to find you with your hands raised around your face. He froze as he saw the smudges of bloody footprints from the shattered mirror. Ten thousand assumptions came to mind, but the thought that you might be trying to kill yourself stood out the most.

Like a switch had been flipped, his face pinched in anger. In great strides, he stalked into the bathroom, his eyes set on you. Panic filled you, and your heart raced as you stumbled away from him, wincing as shards of glass dug into the soles of your feet. He reached you quickly, both of his hands wrapping around your forearms, effectively trapping you.

“Are you mad, or just simply stupid? Did you think I wouldn’t know if you took an attempt on your life?” he seethed, his face mere inches from your own.

His silver eyes had turned into molten metal with the heat of his anger, and you couldn’t do anything except stare back, your own wide in fear and disbelief.

“What?” you whispered.

“Do you take me as an idiot, is that it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“I forbid you to kill yourself!”

The effect was immediate. Your eyes widened as the feeling washed over you, your anger morphing into horror at he can just simply bark a command that can alter you forever. It felt as if a cold chain wrapped around your insides and squeezed until it couldn’t anymore before the sensation faded away. Though, once it did, your anger returned tenfold.

“I wasn’t trying to kill myself, you fucking moron! Had I wanted a quick death, I would have slit my wrists before you even knew.”

Lucius’ hands were still wrapped around your wrists, holding them up and to his chest, and his face remained ever so close, his eyes staring intently into your own. You both breathed heavily, angrily staring into the eyes of the other. It wasn’t for another heartbeat that you realized that Lucius’ bare fingers were wrapped around the very scar that sent you to the edge of hysteria. You stiffened immediately before wrenching your arms from his grasp, twisting the one to where he wouldn’t be able to see the maimed side of it.

Now set apart from each other, Lucius regathered himself, holding himself tall amongst the destruction caused by the witch in front of him.

“Mimsy!” he shouted, and the House Elf appeared less than a breath later, looking up at her master in fear. Your eyes dropped down to the cowering creature, and your heart sank in guilt, realizing that your moment of coming unhinged caused this for her.

“Please see that this room is spotless, and see to it that this women doesn’t cause anymore messes,” he seethed, before turning on his heels, stalking out of your chambers.

#mxigo.allofme #mxigo.masterlist.lucius #mxigo.lucius #lucius malfoy #lucius malfoy x reader #lucius malfoy x you

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arctic-space-penguin · 3 months ago

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Second BTH Bingo ficcccc!! - Attempted Murder - 2152 words

Read the previous one too if you haven't!

---

Donnie rolled his eyes. "Scoff. Always with the Hawaiian."

Leo swallowed. "Shut up, it's good and you weren't here to say otherwise."

Donnie folded his arms and pointedly looked away. Leo just finished the slice he was on and grabbed another. Donnie glanced at him from time to time, but mostly glared at the table.

Okay, Leo had had enough.

"Dude, just take the pineapple off," the slider suggested. "I'm not gonna let you go home hungry."

"Taking the pineapple off doesn't mean it's not Hawaiian anymore," Donnie argued.

"But it literally does," Leo sighed.

"Can't you just let me get my own or something?" Donnie asked.

Leo narrowed his eyes. "You know what? No, I'm not. You either take a slice and remove the pineapple or we go home and I make Mikey cook you your least favorite food to have instead."

"Fine, fine! Just this once, I will have a slice and take the pineapple off," Donnie relented.

"That's what I thought," Leo smirked.

Donnie really didn't want to. He took one of the last two slices and slowly but surely made sure every piece of pineapple was gone. Leo groaned at his pace and slammed his forehead down on the table. Donnie side-eyed him as he took his first bite... Okay, he would admit it wasn't terrible, but he still hated it. His twin looked up right as he finished the first one.

"You done yet?"

"Once I have this one I will be," Donnie reached for the last slice.

"Go faster this time, alright? Raph and Mikey won't like it if we're late getting home."

Donnie hummed... and took his sweet time. Leo rolled his eyes.

"You are enjoying this way too much," he commented.

"Annoying you?" Donnie quipped. "Yeah, I am."

The softshell finished a minute later. Leo got up the second he did. Donnie had to jog to catch up. They left Hueso's, immediately heading towards home but staying on the street with the few people still out this late. Bad idea number one.

Donnie took his phone out to scroll instead of listen to Leo talk. Bad idea number two. Who knew you didn't walk as fast when you were on your phone? Not him, that's for sure.

They came out too fast for Donnie to react. One, probably the leader, got his hand over the mutant's mouth before he could scream. Of course, as all normal New Yorkers do, any bystanders either ran away with frightened looks or completely ignored the situation. And Leo? Well, Leo didn't even look back.

Donnie squirmed enough to get his teeth around the guy's hand and bite. They growled, but didn't let go, continuing to drag him deeper into the alley. Well, that's not good. Donnie tried again and thankfully this time they cried out in anger and let go. He immediately darted to get away.

"L--!"

He tried to call to Leo.

The shot rang out louder.

He yelped as pain bloomed up his left leg. He stumbled and fell, quickly checking to make sure the bullet hadn't gone through. It had only grazed his thigh over his stripe.

Oh thank Pizza Supreme.

The four other guys, he noticed now, had blocked his path anyway. He wasn't getting out of this. Leo was probably long gone too. The leader slowly approached from the opposite, blocked end of the alley. Donnie wished he could shrink away. They looked so terrifying, shadow cast up on the right wall. Once they reached him, they bent over to get to his level.

Donnie leaned back as much as he could. Not enough.

"Grab him and follow me," they studied him a second longer.

One of the bigger, stronger guys behind him hauled him to his feet. He sagged to try to make it harder, but they just squeezed harder, getting a huff out of him, and dragged.

The leader led them all to the back of the alley, pushing the piece of wood to the side. Donnie was shoved through first, just to be grabbed again. They half-dragged half-carried him to a door and opened it. Then they let him go. The softshell was confused until a solid kick was landed on his back and he tumbled into the room beyond. Ten more people glanced his way and started whispering among themselves.

"Look what we caught wandering our territory, fellas!" the leader's voice rang out.

Donnie hissed and backed away when someone got too close. He bumped into legs. Not Good™. Whoever it was kicked him away. He nervously glanced around at all the people glaring at him with threatening fists in palms before landing on the leader. A rage pooled deep in his chest, only growing stronger the longer he stared at him.

This was that guy's fault he was here. His fault Leo wasn't.

In the spur of the moment, the softshell leaped to his feet and rushed at the guy. Hands grabbed his arms and held him fast before he could reach... whatever his name was. Had he even said it? Donnie struggled against everyone holding him back. The leader just smirked. Then one of them grabbed his face as leverage. Fortunately, it was close enough for him to bite. He did just that.

They yelped and let go. The leader narrowed his eyes and growled. His hand shot forward and wrapped around Donnie's throat. Everyone else backed off. Donnie gasped and clawed at the hand fiercely.

Donnie heard a faint cheer that grew louder and louder of "Tony! Tony! Tony!", flooding his ears with the unpleasant sound. The hand tightened, albeit barely. There was no way he wasn't turning purple right now. The leader shoved him down to the floor a second later. Donnie gulped in air, a hand at his throat just in case. 'Tony' didn't wait for him to catch his breath before crouching in front of him.

"You wanna know what we do with freaks invading our part of town?" Tony asked, rough voice not even attempting to conceal the threat.

Donnie ignored him, eyes watering, still trying to regulate his breaths. Tony's hand shot forward again, and he flinched hard, but it only grabbed his chin to force him to look in the man's direction.

"We kill them," Tony spat and it landed right next to Donnie's hurt leg, releasing his chin with a push backwards for emphasis.

The softshell whimpered. He was allowed to be scared now.

He'll never get to see his brothers again. It was over. Leo was long gone and had no idea where he was. It. Was. Over. A fact, no longer a question.

Donnie's eyes flicked from knife to spare hammer to gun in each man's hands. The first one to lunge he barely dodged. The second he backed into getting away from the first and a boot landed right on his right hand. He cried out and pulled to try to free it, but the man in the boot just put more weight onto that leg. This had just started and he was already trapped. Good going, Donatello, now you really are screwed.

Three men took advantage of his weakness first, wielding two knives and a hammer respectively. Donnie tried again to free himself, but that just made it hurt more. A knife pierced his left arm and he screamed. It was quickly dislodged and another was dug into his wide open right leg right above his knee. He screamed even louder. The boot finally lifted and he practically threw himself backwards away from his previous attackers... Just for a sixth join in.

Donnie blocked his face.

The knife dug into his wrist.

He wouldn't give them the satisfaction of a third scream.

It came out and the man backed away. Donnie was confused for a split second before four of the obviously strongest guys, including the one that had dragged him here in the first place, came forward and grabbed his wrists and ankles to hold him up. Someone else pulled chains down from the ceiling. Donnie weakly pulled against the guys when he realized. They secured the chains around his wrists, one digging into his most recent stab, and backed off.

Throws were almost instant. Knives and hammers both clattering to the ground around him, some being retrieved for a second try. Some landed the first time around, lodging themselves into all over his body. He couldn't hold back his scream his time. Some laughed in sickening satisfaction when it came.

Donnie wanted to go home.

Eventually, people slowly abandoned their throwing game when they got bored. Donnie felt a rush of relief every time it happened. His head was hung from exhaustion and blood loss at this point, the dark red, sticky liquid coming from what he assumed was minimum twenty lacerations over his body combined. They left him hanging there limply.

"--ow the hammer," Tony hissed.

Donnie squeezed his eyes shut. Nothing happened.

"Throw it!" Tony commanded much louder.

Donnie braced himself. The hammer colliding with the side of his head still hurt.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Donnie's conscious came back two hours later. How he didn't die, he had no idea.

He didn't dare move, but glanced around. His ankle was chained to a bar, something weighed heavy on his face, and he thinks he's in a cage or crate of some sort.

And Leo wasn't here.

Which meant he didn't know where Donnie was.

Which meant no one was coming for him.

Which meant he was going to die here.

Donnie subconsciously let out a small, pathetic whimper. He just wanted to go home, but apparently fate had other plans.

"Ayo, Tony. Thing woke up, come see," a voice on his left said.

Donnie curled into himself as much as he could. Anyone but Tony.

The man appeared anyway. Donnie went limp. Tony reached through the bars and poked his face, arms, anywhere it would hurt. He barely cracked open an eye.

"Surprised it's not dead," Tony murmured. "Should we have done more?"

No response that Donnie could hear. The softshell had given in at this point. If he was to die, so be it.

Destiny was stronger than fate.

The door to the room exploded into splinters. Donnie heard it, but couldn't see it, couldn't get himself to open his eyes again. Unfortunate. Tony stormed away from the cage. Donnie felt more tears flow without permission.

Two familiar sparks in his chest. He sobbed. He sobbed while people were thrown against walls. He sobbed while his saviors were injured. He sobbed while revenge was gotten for him. He sobbed while Tony was beaten the lights out of. He sobbed when it was over. It drained his energy. His wounds seemed to be hellfires of pain, ready to drag him down.

The cage door opened. The heavy thing broke off. The chain around his ankle fell away. He was carefully removed and lowered to the floor. Someone spoke, but he didn't hear any of it. The pain was screaming louder, begging to be taken away. A comfortingly familiar hand wiped his tears away and he subconsciously leaned into it. The person behind this hand could take the pain away for good. He wouldn't die if they stayed.

"--ple..." someone whispered.

Donnie shivered. He hurt and he was cold, what a wonderful combination.

Something new buzzed in his ears and he was suddenly falling, which abruptly stopped and jostled him, making him cry out in pain.

"Shh," someone soothed. "Don't want to wake Raph and Mikey."

Donnie gasped and his eyes flew open at the names. The two silhouettes hovering above him took notice.

"--onnie?!" one exclaimed.

"Purple!"

Oh, thank Pizza Supreme words were becoming clear again.

Donnie blinked a few times to get rid of the blur of his vision from tears and almost cried again at the crystal clear view of his dad and twin looking down at him. The softshell was back home.

Destiny was stronger than fate.

Donnie tried to lift his arms to wrap around Leo's neck for a much-needed hug, but Splinter gently pushed them back down.

"We need bandages on him immediately," their father commanded. "He must have lost a lot of... blood too."

When Leo spoke, he sounded much more confident. "Good thing we have a reserve. You make sure Raph and Mikey didn't wake up, and I'll get him to the medbay."

Splinter grunted and nodded, hurrying off. Leo carefully got himself to his feet without jostling Donnie too much and headed quickly to get him on a cot with bandages. Donnie struggled to stay awake, but he was nothing if not good at keeping his eyes open during late nights staying up on projects. As soon as Leo could set his twin down, he stared him right in the eyes and made him a promise:

"I'll never leave your side again. You have my word."

---

AO3 Link

Hopefully you guys like this one as much as the first, but probably not lol

@badthingshappenbingo

edit: *cough cough* totally didn't forget to add the actual card yesterday

#rottmnt #saverottmnt #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt leo #rottmnt splinter #rottmnt donnie angst #btw Tony isnt meant as an actual oc #he was just made for this and nothing else #bthb card #attempted murder

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