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numericalbridge · 7 months

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Title: Mallow (part 1/3)

Fandom: The Owl House

Rating: G

Word count: 2922 (Full fic - 9340)

Main characters: Darius, that one little abomination (Mallow)

Other characters: the previous Golden Guard (Virgil); in the full story - Eber, Raine, Luz, various palismen

Summary:

An AU where the little abomination was the previous Golden Guard's palisman

x - [part 2] - [part 3] - [full story]

----

Darkness and the deep connections of the old nerves. Whispers. All of them. Fewer of them. Hands, molding. Then – a shape. The desire: a childhood that never was, days on a beach under the sky that is blue; new places to explore, new magic blends – out of the box, out of the confines; new magic shaped to move; wild curiosity, but anchored by deep, sentimental connections.

Two bright mauve eyes opening, the form unfolding from the wood.

The voice, rendered childlike with wonder: “Wow, you are so unique! Our eyes are almost the same!”

Mallow. The name was Mallow.

----

1. Mallow.

“Aren’t they cute?” There was a hint of an amused smile in the corner of Virgil’s mouth.

Darius stared at the round abomination-shaped creature on his mentor’s palm. They stared back at him with curious eyes. Their colour resembled Virgil’s.

Darius sighed. He was no fool and could see the real pride hiding behind the nonchalant amusement on his mentor’s face. Still…

“Isn’t it forbidden?” Forbidden means dangerous. Surely Virgil understood how risky this was. Nothing is safe.

“Well,” Virgil’s face darkened, “I know you can keep a secret. What’s done is done.”

He shoved the creature at Darius, and Darius took them. They walked up his arm, balancing like an acrobat and murmuring softly. They did look kinda cute, but Darius felt a little bitter that this was an abomination – his domain. And he didn’t talk to you when he decided to create them. Are you already falling behind?

“An abomination but made of wood?” Darius wondered aloud. He sat the palisman down on the only table in Virgil’s Latissa apartment, then created a small abomination of his own – made to resemble Mallow, but with bright green eyes. Mallow gasped and toddled towards it, babbling. They seemed enthralled. Darius snickered.

“I knew you’d like them!” Virgil laughed and roughly shook Darius by the shoulders – an almost brotherly gesture that meant he was extremely happy with himself. Yet he didn’t tell you how he got the palistrom wood.

“Ugh, it’s interesting,” Darius freed himself and adjusted his clothing. Great, now his scarf was all askew. “But why an abomination?”

Virgil shrugged. “You know that I find the magic fascinating. And…” he stared at the two abominations – the palisman and the real one – circling each other on the table, “and it felt like it would mean… But you are evading! Admit that you like cute things!”

“Oh, please!” Now, who was evading? Darius shook his head. He understood that the palisman business was a very personal matter. And a lot of things about Virgil were a mystery. He loves experimenting with magic and discovering new, borderline forbidden uses for it, that’s true… Strange how he trusted Darius with the secret palisman, but not with his deeper concerns and troubles. Darius supposed they were similar in that regard... yet Darius had opened up to him, no matter how hard it had been. At least he will be less lonely back in that place…

“It should be nice to have company in the Castle?” Darius guessed.

“I suppose,” Virgil followed the palisman with his eyes. “Do you ever want to have a palisman of your own?”

Oh. Darius poked at the abomination he had created. That. “No.”

“No? Never?”

“Maybe when I was very young. But I had a rust-toothed cat when I was in school, and she was… she seemed better than any palisman.”

Darius remembered Raine showing off their newly carved Foxglove. That terrible rat Alador had. Nissa was smart too. Darius’s free hand played with his scarf. Perhaps palismen lasted longer than pets, than family even…

“Besides, what’s the point? The whole connection with you, the hidden desire, is sort of creepy. And they would probably outlive me.” He could still picture his great grandmother’s palisman, suffering so. “Figure out your desire, connect with something, leave it behind, alone forever… That is, if they aren’t…”

Confiscated.

The word hung between them, heavy. Virgil’s jaw tightened. Mallow stopped playing with the abomination and stared up at them, their perpetual frown frozen.

“It would just be a bother to make one, anyway,” Darius concluded with a sigh and a mildly annoyed pout.

“Hmm...” Now Virgil looked… sad? Uncomfortable? Because of all the palismen he’d been confiscating while keeping a secret one for himself? Because of what Darius thought about palismen in general?

Darius patted Virgil's palisman on their round bald head. “I think you should’ve carved them some decorations. Their head looks empty,” he graciously suggested in an attempt to change the topic.

Virgil payed him no mind. “I think Mallow is worth it,” he muttered softly.

I hope you won’t get into trouble. Virgil was changing, and it perplexed and troubled Darius, even though he was glad that his mentor’s loyalty seemed to shift towards helping the common witches and demons rather than being just the Emperor’s loyal guard. But gone was the almost boyish, at times almost cruel recklessness. Virgil was now more thoughtful, more composed. Still ruthless. And he still never talked about his personal life, at least not directly. And part of Darius was afraid to prod, to push him towards wrong decisions. And the change... how would it affect their relationship? Wondering this was selfish, but Darius knew very well that friendships didn’t last.

“Have you thought about getting a new rust-toothed cat then?” Virgil asked.

Darius’s grip on the scarf tightened. “No.” He hated the look on Virgil’s face. “I don’t have time for pets.” He doubted that some random cat would be as smart as Nissa.

“Hmm…”

“Anyway, I have to go. I have a report to give at the Coven meeting this evening,” he very timely remembered.

“And you’ll be the best prepared, of course.”

“Obviously.”

“Just don’t get into trouble.”

Darius allowed himself a scoff. “With whom? All those old people?”

He readjusted his scarf one more time and headed towards the exit.

“I won’t let you get hurt, I promise,” a voice whispered, so softly that Darius thought he had imagined it. Yet he turned. Virgil was talking to the little abomination in his cupped hands, and it was cooing quietly back at him.

----

Hurt. Once safe and warm, now hurt, surrounded by cold stone walls. Hiding, hunted. The voices are beckoning – far away yet welcoming. But the secret passages are now as familiar as the old nerve-routes. He had used to send them into the passages – to help, to uncover. But now he is gone. And their head feels strange. Weak. There is a dent, an injury. He had send them away. Follow the voices or stay? What was his wish?

Mallow remembers.

They stay.

----

2. Secrets in the Castle.

Shuffling.

Darius paused and listened. He was on his way back to his rooms after yet another dreary, exhausting Coven Head meeting. He was tired and he needed a bath and his skincare routine to soothe the anxiety that was eating away at him.

Desperate shuffling behind the walls.

He could imagine all the dirt and mold behind the shiny new panels, golden and cold and always damp.

The kitchen staff had complained and complained about strange noises – can’t be just a usual hamsteroach infestation, they insisted – until Terra decided to get rid of the source herself. Not out of generosity, obviously. She just wanted to sic her freshly grown plant monstrosities on something small and defenseless.

The shuffling grew closer, more desperate now. Cornered.

“It’s something the old cook used to feed,” they’d theorized. “Now that she is gone, it is grown hungry.”

Darius hesitated for a brief moment. He could just picture Raine Whispers teasing him if they were there with him. But, of course, they weren’t there. Too damn pure and principled for the Castle. For him. Spoiling Terra’s game would be good, he thought. Only, nothing felt good anymore. These last years – just a hideous blur. The only thing he felt was being tired and being cold. Was it like this for Virgil too?

Sounds of movement farther away – Terra’s thorny snaps gaining on their prey. The thing in the wall thrashed and scratched. An abomination tendril shot towards the brass vent cover and pulled it open. Easy.

Something fell out, dirty and covered in webs. Dark purple like an abomination, but its eyes the colour of a delicate flower.

“Mallow?!” For a brief terrifying moment he almost felt relief… or hope… or... Because if the palisman is alive…

Almost.

He stared at the thing. They scrambled out into the corridor and tried to escape into the vent on the opposite side. Darius caught them with the abomination tendril, and they snarled at him almost like a real animal, like no abomination would have ever done.

“They don’t like you very much,” Virgil’s voice laughed, distorted by time. Never mind. With a snap of his fingers – so easy, so effortlessly perfect – he translocated the palisman to his rooms.

How many years have passed? Were they hiding the whole time? he wondered, horrified. And the thought that if the palisman was alive, then he could be… That thought would have destroyed Darius. What does Mallow know?

The plants, hungry for their prey, reached the vent, and he dispatched them – annoying eyesores – with another twist of his fingers. Perfect. And sometimes almost cruel. Perhaps it was a good thing that Raine wasn’t there with him.

Bile in his throat, he headed for his rooms. Act normal. Perfect, effortless. Practiced ad nauseum. Should be easy. Hand clutching at the cloak. Why now?

Couldn’t he be left alone? Just be left alone to – as his aunt had angrily spat – self-destruct in the cold indifference of the Castle.

Mallow was sitting on his bed, stuck in the abomination matter, once cute downturned squiggle of their mouth melted into an almost sinister grimace. The eyes were dimmer than he remembered… or was he misremembering?

How long had it been? Could they recognize him?

He almost laughed, imagining how he would introduce himself to this palisman. Or was all this part of some particularly cruel trap? Some of the other Coven Heads might know… He turned abruptly, checked the doors and the protection spells. One, two, three, four. And again. Again.

The mauve eyes followed his compulsive writhings until Darius practically fell to his knees in front of the bed, exhausted. He felt like his whole body was trembling, and he couldn’t stop it.

The abomination… the palisman stared and stared.

“Mallow?” There was a significantly sized dent on the side of their normally round head, under all the dirt. “What happened?” To you. To him.

No response.

He released them from the abomination trap. They sprang up and made several wobbly steps as if to escape. But they seemed sluggish, perhaps disoriented. Perhaps they were tired. Perhaps they have been hiding in the walls for too long…

Darius dimmed the lights in the room. The palisman sat down and blinked.

“Better? Now, come here. No need for this attitude, just let me clean you.”

Did they remember how they used to play? Darius’s hands were shaking, and there was an uncomfortable heaviness inside his head, so the little abomination he summoned turned out all wonky. Mallow didn’t react, just stared, but they allowed him to clean them up, and when Darius finally collapsed on the bed, they didn’t run away.

Perhaps they knew what happened to Virgil? He couldn’t bring himself to ask. And how would they even communicate? If only he had paid more attention to Virgil’s talk about the palismen… Was this why Virgil has been so insistent on introducing them?

What did Virgil want? Someone to keep his secret? A co-conspirator in a rebellion?

Mallow shook their head and tried to pat the dent with their stubby hands. Why an abomination?

Perhaps there could be a use for them...

Before Darius fell into an uneasy sleep or a half-dazed stupor, full of echoes of the familiar voices, Nissa’s purring, and Mallow’s eerie staring eyes, he thought: This can be a start of a working partnership.

----

3. The Change.

The new arrangement was strange, but he had wanted Mallow’s help – spying, sneaking, seeing what he couldn’t see. And so they would do it again, even if every memory was painful.

Everything was so different now. Distant. “Run,” the voices whispered. “You can be with us, safe.”

Something compelled Mallow to stay. Maybe the curiosity and readiness for novelty – that desire that had awoken them and gave them their form. But that special love, that longing for a family – that’s what was missing ever since he was gone.

Empty.

“No,” the strongest of the voices insisted, “I’ll give you a home if you come to my Forest. You can’t have that in the Castle anymore.”

Fear and pain and memories, again and again in circles.

Mallow stayed.

Darius said they had an arrangement. That Mallow could still help. At first Mallow didn’t believe him, but then they began to understand what Darius wanted to do. Darius – hollow and cold, frozen by the same moment that had taken him from Mallow. This wasn’t a true bond, oh no. But even Mallow could see that their goal was the same…

Fear, pain. Again. Just wanted to help. Almost caught. Almost…

Blindly running. Blindly falling, down and down... then a crack. Hurt. Blinded. Knew the hidden Castle passages so well, yet now down here, can’t see.

Something essential seeping away.

Mallow ran and ran. Hurt, more than before. Why? In the past: his voice ordering them to hide. In the present they ran, and then they stumbled along. No way to escape the blinding hurt…

“Mallow? What happened? Did you deliver my…” Darius rose from the table, eyes round.

Mallow keened in pain. Save me, help me!

What would he think? He’d never begged.

Now Mallow was being undone, and he wasn’t there with them.

Mallow, cracked and seeping green like all their broken brethren who screamed in terror in the Beating Heart Room.

Darius, stooping to pick them up.

Darius, frowning.

“Head hurts,” Mallow moaned, but Darius couldn’t understand them.

Darius, pacing, voice strange, “I can’t trust anyone… Eda, perhaps? No, no. No time.”

Then Darius’s face was set. “Can you… go to your staff form or whatever it’s called?” Impatient.

Mallow raised what remained of their head to look at him… It was so long ago… the old routes called… They could do it. The shell hardened, the consciousness dimmed, but the voices grew louder, soothing them.

Voices, far away and nearby. Even the stooped motionless one from the Castle.

“Just as I thought, that dent was a weak spot…” Then there was scraping, and cursing under the breath, and angry muttering.

Mallow, surrounded by the voices, dreamed of the moment they were given their form. But this was different, artificial – no connection, no calling… Their head hurt less.

“Now, I’ll try something.” Something cool and alien, covering their head, almost soothing, slipping through the wood, merging with it.

“Mallow? Can you hear me? You can, ugh, transform back?”

They sprang back, animated. The pain was almost gone, and Mallow blinked at the suddenly bright room with their one remaining eye. The fracture – where the dent used to be – it felt covered and mended. Artificial… They reached up with their hands, but their arms were too short…

“What are you doing? Ah, fine, look here.” Darius, holding up a mirror.

Mallow squeaked. The abomination cap blended perfectly, reinforcing the wood.

“I did what I could to close the wound. I tried working with the wood, as much as I dared, but there just wasn’t enough, so I reinforced it with abomination.” Darius sighed. “This was too close to a forbidden magic blend,” he muttered. He looked tired and weak, and there was a cruelly sharp vertical crease between his eyebrows.

“Yes, yes, I’m sorry. I didn’t have any spare palistrom wood, so I had to improvise. It should be flexible enough, and it won’t decay – a special formula used for… What?”

Something didn’t look right.

Mallow gestured and gestured. Darius pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed dramatically and shook his head. “I don’t understand… and don’t run around just yet!”

They climbed onto his drawing table and pointed at one of his sketches.

“What? Oh. Oh, really?” Darius looked surprised. Like he couldn’t believe them. “Well, I suppose it could help you to blend in, in a pinch... hide in plain sight and all that, yes? Hmm, and it might help you see.”

He scratched his chin, then drew a spell circle, expanding the abomination on the top of Mallow’s head. An eye opened, and the eye was green.

Changing, changing... shouldn’t be like this. What would he think?

“You all right?” Darius asked. Mallow crooned, admiring their new hair in the mirror. Their own eye – now also green. “Is it a yes?” Darius sighed again. “You surprise me, palisman.”

Mallow had discovered that they liked surprising Darius – he was different then, less cold. Almost like before, with him. They liked the little pals Darius made for them too. They weren’t like Mallow and their brethren, but instead gooey and hollow, yet the way Darius treated them was almost like they were special and dear to him.

“You know,” Darius muttered, setting them down on the sofa beside the table, “my old vice-principal back at school had a palisman that helped him see…”

Mallow settled down, listening.

#darius deamonne #toh darius #the previous golden guard #toh fanfiction #the owl house fanfiction #the owl house au #numericalbridge fic #mallow au

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angryschnauzer · 4 years

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Jingle My Bells

Summary: Continuing my AU Rugby Teacher theme that was so brilliantly plot bunny’d by @feelmyroarrrr, Henry finds himself bored at home having been put onto quarantine due to cases at the school he teaches at. With his school shutting early for the holidays, when his wife needs help at her school, she calls in his assistance for some festive fun... with some after hours fun for themselves too.

Pairing: AU Rugby Teacher Henry Cavill x Teacher Wife

Warnings: Bad Puns, NSFW, 18+, Established Relationship, Public/Risky Sex Workplace Sex, Henry dressed as Santa Claus (yes thats a warning in itself).

Gif by @littlefreya and used with her kind permission.

Previous Rugby Teacher Henry Ficlet.

Masterlist on AO3, and old fics can be found at @angryschnauzerwrites. I don’t run a tag list.

Jingle My Bells

Henry was bored. Two weeks of quarantine after another faculty member had tested positive had meant he'd been confined to the house 24/7. Just as his test results had come back negative and his return to work for the last week of term had been scheduled, the high school had been notified that two students had come in contact with confirmed cases, so to cut their losses the board of governors had simply implemented end of term a week early.

And sure, Henry had done what he could to help keep himself busy; online gaming, World of Warcraft, hell; he'd even helped you mark homework for your primary school class. He cooked dinner for you so it was ready the moment you arrived home, and the house was the cleanest it'd ever been, but without you home with him he was just… bored.

"Just one more day, then its the end of term" you'd reassured him as you'd kissed him goodbye that morning, and he'd pulled you into his arms;

"Will you wear the elf outfit home tonight?"

"Oh, does someone have an elf kink?" You'd grinned and raised an eyebrow.

Henry lifted his hand to the little bells that were attached to your green knit dress;

"I kinda want to find out how i can make these jingle… i have some ideas…"

"Well you can fill my stockings after work, but i've got to go or i'll be late…" you pressed a kiss to his cheek; "Got to set up the area for Santa"

With a groan your husband released you;

"Fine, but i want you to sit on my lap later"

Henry was standing at the fridge contemplating whether eating Babybell cheeses wrapped in Parma ham sandwiched between two slices of toast counted as lunch when his phone rang. Seeing your school's number on the display he was half curious and half worried, but visibly relaxed when he heard your voice;

"Hennn…." You purred

"Oh god… you only use that voice when you want something i won't like…"

"Are you free this afternoon?"

He sighed over dramatically;

"What do you need?"

"We need a Santa. The guy we booked was someone's grandad but he's been on the sherry and we had to send him home because he was slurring his speech and referred to the kids as 'crotch gobins'"

Henry let out a snort of laughter;

"I've met your class… some of them are…"

"Nevertheless… could you stand in? We've got the suit, and you've been quarantining for 3 weeks so are safe… pleeease…"

"Hmmmmnn"

"Hennn, please… i've got a thirty kids that still believe…"

Henry sighed;

"Okay… i'll be there in ten minutes"

“You’ll need to walk…there’s no space left in the staff car park”

He sighed;

“Okay, make it thirty minutes”

If there was an award for best/worst performance as Santa, Henry would have got it hands down. Putting on his best pantomime Brian Blessed voice, he'd Ho Ho Ho'd his way through the three youngest classes of wide eyed Little Ones that had thoroughly loved meeting Santa. When it had come to the older kids in the Junior years, generally 8 years old and above, he'd taken a different tactic, instead filing them out to the playground and if they could score a hoop through the Netball net, he'd deem them nice rather than naughty.

By the time hometime rolled around every single child had a smile on their face, excitedly rushing out to their parents waiting at the gate, pointing out Santa to their younger siblings sat in Pushchairs and Prams.

When you’d finally waved everyone off you made your way back to your classroom, the security door alert sounding as you entered the corridor, the hallways quiet where your colleagues had already packed up their stuff and left for the day. Henry trailed behind you, chattering away about what the kids had told him, shedding himself of the fake Santa beard and the scratchy jacket, leaving him wearing the hat, his plain black t-shirt, and the Santa trousers and boots. He flopped down into your chair as you busied yourself around the classroom, his feet up on your desk.

Moving around him you stacked papers ready to be archived when he wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you onto his lap;

“Come and sit on Santa’s knee”

Abandoning the papers you laughed as you settled on your husband's lap, turning to kiss him and the little bells on your dress jingled as you moved. The kiss went from chaste to needy in a matter of seconds, and you could feel Henry harden beneath your ass as you wriggled on his lap. His hand groped at your breasts through your dress as his lips started a trail along your chin and down your neck;

“Have you been naughty or nice this year?”

You wriggled on your lap;

“Oh I've been Naughty…”

Suddenly you were spinning as Henry fluidly moved to his feet, pushing you over your desk and stood behind you;

“Well i guess i’d better do something about that then” he pulled your dress up with a jingle of the bells attached and smoothed his hands over your ass, the green and white stripes of your tights framing your buttocks. With strong fingers he grasped the thin fabric and tugged, ripping a hole in them and letting out an appreciative grunt when he found you wearing a lace thong;

“You’ve been parading around in that little dress with this poor excuse for underwear beneath all day? You really have been a naughty girl” he purred in your ear as his fingers tugged the elastic aside.

You tried to move away, painfully aware of your location;

“Hen! We’re at school!”

“Shhh… the door alarm to the hallway will sound if anyone comes… so how about i make you cum before that happens, eh?”

His fingers had found your clit as he’d pushed his thumb into your velvet channel, and any further arguments were lost on your tongue as you sighed in pleasure;

“Hen, make it quick… the cleaners will be doing their rounds soon”

Looking over your shoulder you watched as Henry quickly shoved the Santa trousers and boxers down, his thick and meaty dick springing free where he was already rock hard and dripping with need;

“I’m gonna jingle your bells darling…” he positioned himself and quickly thrust in, making you gasp at the sudden stretch of it; “Gonna fill your stockings…”

“Tights” you corrected

“Same fucking thing” he grunted as he started to pound into you, the rhythmic thud of his efforts topped off with the delicate jingling of the bells on your dress. His hands moved and grabbed at your breasts, his breath hot and heavy against your ear as he filled you hard and fast from behind; “Want me to come down your chimney tonight?”

Grinning you turned your head;

“How about we save that for when we’re at home…?”

Henry paused, his eyes going wide when he realised you were agreeing to the one thing in your sex life you hadn’t tried yet, even after being married for a number of years and him dropping numerous hints;

“Really?”

“Well, i know you didn’t put it on your Christmas list but if a elf is gonna be naughty she might as well be naughty all the way…” you winked at him; “But you gotta hurry up now…”

With a grunt of determination he started to pound into you, one hand moving down your stomach and pushing between your legs, rubbing at your clit as he did his best to quickly bring you both to orgasm. Your moans started to get louder, and he clamped his other hand over your mouth as he started to feel you cuming, your body shaking and the loud thuds of his thrusts filling the room as your desk squeaked on the linoleum floor. With a grunt he thrust in deep and at the height of your orgasm you felt him flooding your womb with rope of his creamy seed, his massive hands pulling you to his chest as he buried his face in your neck whilst your cunt milked the last of his cum from his body.

Breathless and glowing, you rested your head on Henry’s shoulder, your chest heaving before he carefully pulled out of you, pulling your underwear back into place as he tucked himself back into his boxers and Santa trousers. As you shimmied your dress back down you heard the thrumming of the floor polisher along the corridor, your eyes going wide before Henry turned you and rested his hands on your shoulders;

“C’mon, lets get home”

Taking a deep breath you smiled;

“Help be grab the last few bits then we can go”

Five minutes later you were stepping out of your classroom, Henry holding the large box of things you wanted to bring home for the holidays including your peace lily, pulling the door shut when you heard footsteps, turning to see the after hours cleaner;

“Night Mr Howell, have a good Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas Mrs Cavill…” he paused when he saw Henry standing next to you

“This is my Husband, he stood in as Santa today”

The old man nodded and smiled, carrying on with his mop as you walked in the opposite direction. Just as you got the security door you heard him starting to whistle, your eyes shooting up to meet Henry’s as you heard the tune;

‘Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle all the way…’

Henry wrapped his free arm around your shoulders;

“C’mon my naughtly little Elf, i’ll drive you home” he grinned at you; “Then we can see about that chimney of yours…”

You clenched at the thought, your body already tingling at the thought of it. And hey, if you were going to let your husband finally fuck your ass, at least you had the entire school holidays to recover.

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #au rugby henry cavill #henry cavill smut #henry cavill rpf

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toadwarts · 3 years

Text

Special Delivery

Companion piece to Safe At Last.

After two humans escaped from an abusive home and found a new home working alongside Duke, they have begun settling into their new lives as merchants and their polyamorous romance with The Duke. Our primary character (aka the Reader) is struggling with the way he is perceived by the villagers, but is pleasantly surprised when The Duke returns with a special gift... Just the thing to help him feel better.

Fluffy hurt/comfort poly oneshot written in first person but made so that you can insert yourself if wanted. This story centers on a transmasculine protagonist!

Read on A03 or Fanfiction.net!

I sat in the back of the Duke’s caravan, lonely and bored. Both the Duke and my primary partner had been out for hours, making deliveries around the village and to the factory. I had stayed behind to look after the caravan and make sales to anyone who might approach--not to mention I wasn’t terribly keen on meeting any of the four lords yet. It had been months since we began staying with the massive enigma of a man, and only a few days less of that time since we had become a delightful little polycule.

Life in the village hadn’t been easy--there were a lot of mysterious dangers, and you had to be cunning with both your words and weapons. Even still, it was as if The Duke commanded respect of all who lived within the confines of this little world, and so the three of us were safe/ When asked, The Duke would simply flash an award winning smile and say, “I suppose it’s one of the perks of having world class customer service!”

Still, The Duke being so...enigmatic could be exhausting, and perhaps a little bit annoying at times. But he was a good friend and even better lover, and always made sure that we were cared for. If he wanted to keep his secrets, I suppose it was his business. One day, after building up plenty of trust...perhaps we would be privy to them. After all, we had our own secrets too.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

I startled at the sudden noise, hopping up to my feet. No one had approached the caravan all day, but I needed to make sure my customer service was perfect, else The Duke would be most displeased!

“Hello,” I said, my voice chipper. “How can I help you out today?” The customers seemed to be a couple--a thin man and woman, dressed all in black with their hats pulled low on the crowns of their heads. Their hands were intertwined, both of them shivering in the cold.

“We were looking for meat. Sausage, if you have it. And a few nails so we can fix our fence.” The man said, fidgeting with his jacket.

“Of course! Anything to help out a loyal customer. Just let me go and grab them from the back.” I said cheerfully, forcing a big smile. I wasn’t prone to very much facial expression myself, but trying to mimic The Duke definitely helped. It was almost like putting on a costume.

I traversed back into the caravan, rooting around for what was needed. I kept my ears perked to listen to the customers as I unraveled a rope of thick sausages, placing them gently into a pristine paper bag.

“I wonder where that girl came from. The boy too.” The woman said. “The Duke has seemed to take quite a shining to the two of ‘em, and it looks like The Lords don’t mind them too much either. Surprised Dimitrescu hasn’t taken that maiden for herself.”

I felt ice shoot through my bloodstream. The girl. The boy too. A sour feeling entered my mouth. My partner didn’t go by any gender, and me… Well, it seems that my binder didn’t work well enough today. Really, I suppose it was my voice that gave me away. I had always felt disconnected from its lilting, high pitch. I hunched my shoulders and huffed, finishing packaging their order. It couldn’t be helped. A lot of people couldn’t understand.

I approached the front of the caravan, wanting this transaction to be over as soon as possible. “Here you go.” I said, doing my best to open up the back of my throat and make my voice sound deeper. Foolish and a waste of time, I’m sure. “Everything is packed up now. I hope that you find it all to be of the highest quality. If you have any qualms, please come back to see us.”

“Thank you ma’am.” The woman said as her husband dug around in his pockets for the appropriate amount of lei. “Such a sweet young girl. Where did you come from, dear?”

My stomach twisted, and I did my best to keep the discomfort out of my voice. “Um… Further away. I left home, and stumbled across the village while looking for somewhere to camp.” I didn’t see the point in correcting them and starting up a whole new conversation that they likely wouldn’t or couldn’t want to understand.

“How unfortunate. We’ve been having a lot of problems lately, miss.” The man said, counting up his lei.

Tch. Did they have to keep gendering literally everything they say?! Geez.

“Like werewolves?” I couldn’t help but smirk a little. “Well, it’s definitely a step up from where I came.”

“I suppose so. Especially with special treatment from the merchant.” The man sniffed, flinching when his wife elbowed him.

“I’m sorry about that. He didn’t get enough sleep last night,” The woman apologized, handing me the lei.

I nodded, smile tight and strained. “No problem! I do hope you get to feeling better.” I handed them their items and swallowed hard. “Have a wonderful rest of your day and good luck fixing your fence!!”

They waved me off, and I slunk back into the caravan. I knew the village definitely had a few gossips, but I hadn’t imagined it would be so annoying. I had already heard some adolescents talking about how funny it was to see a woman with such short hair and a flat chest, chattering about my partner and I… I’d argue that the most dangerous thing in this village wasn’t the werewolves, but perhaps the strain on the villagers that had them biting at each other’s ankles… Or mine, at least. Maybe they’d eventually warm up to me like they did The Duke though. Even my partner was having an easier time settling in to it all.

I guess I just felt out of place. The only time I did feel right was when I was curled into The Duke’s soft side, my hand entwined with my primary partner’s across his ample belly, their soft breaths lulling me into a comfortable slumber.

My ears perked as the door to the back of the caravan opened. My primary partner stood there with a broad grin, eyes shining. “Hey there, dear!” They said happily. “We have a surprise for you. Well, Duke does, I’m just happy and along for the ride!”

I cocked my head. A gift was certainly something to perk up the mood--and The Duke was certainly top tier at finding the perfect gifts… Who knows what he may have brought?

Speaking of The Duke, he leaned on his cane as he squeezed into the wagon. “Hello, my dear boy!” He said happily. His words sent flutters of delight through my stomach, making me smile. “I’ve got a bit of a gift for you. Something you’ve mentioned a few times. I hope you might like it!”

I stepped forward, eyes glinting curiously. The Duke turned a bit, shutting the door to the wagon behind him. When he turned, a small black box was in his hands, seemingly procured from thin air. Without skipping a beat I came closer, feeling my cheeks pinken with shyness. “What is it?”

“Well, you’ll have to open it to find out, won’t you?” The Duke smiled broadly, holding the box out.

I took the box from his hands as he sat down, my partner bouncing with giddiness. I carefully unfolded the top, seeing that whatever was inside was wrapped in deep red satin, the color of blood. Fitting, for the village. Gingerly, I pulled the satin back, curiosity thrumming through my fingers.

I gasped.

A little vial, full of clear liquid, and a set of alcohol swabs, syringes, and band-aids.

It couldn’t be.

“Is… Is this…?” The words were so small in my throat, barely breaking out of my mouth.

“It is.” The Duke nodded, clasping his hands together and smiling softly. “Testosterone.”

Tears sprung to my eyes, a laugh emerging unbidden from me. Ever since I had come out, I had wanted to transition--but I had never had the opportunity in my old abusive home, and I imagined somewhere out here would never hold the chance either. I had dreamed of the changes for so long--a deeper voice, bottom growth, body hair, facial hair… Hell, even building more muscle easier so I could achieve the musclechub look I had always been enamored by!

“How did you do it?” I choked out, pressing the back of my hand against my watery eyes. My primary partner was at my side, arm around my shoulders. They planted a kiss on my head, holding me tight.

“Why, I can procure any goods I need!” The Duke laughed heartily. “It is only a matter of time before an item is in my hands. And now it’s yours, free of charge.”

I sniffled. “Duke… I don’t know what to say. This is amazing. This is my greatest dream. Thank you. Thank you so much!” I handed the box to my primary partner and ran to him, throwing my arms out. He leaned forward, hulking arms wrapping into me and pulling me into him. “Thank you!”

“Of course, my dear! Anything for you.” He planted a gentle kiss on my forehead as he pulled me up to his chest. “And I know from our conversations about hormone replacement therapy before that you had concerns about vaginal atrophy and hair loss. Remedies for those are on the way as well!”

“You are amazing.” I said breathlessly. After all the abuse my primary partner and I had endured over the years, I never could have imagined that we would have ended up in a place so terrifying and yet...so safe. So like home. A place where dreams could come true.

“Well thank you, my dear. The customer is always right!” He said cheekily.

My primary partner approached, holding the box as if it were the most prized thing in the entire world. “My good sir,” They said with a flourish. “I believe it is time for your first injection of boy juice!”

“Boy juice.” I repeated. “Wow.” Then took a deep breath. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

“Let me administer the first shot for you, to show you how it’s done.” The Duke said, lowering me into the seat next to him.

I nodded, suddenly feeling my palms get sweaty. “Yes. That sounds nice. I’m a little scared of the needle.” I laughed nervously. “Hey hon...you think you could hold my hand?”

My primary partner nodded, fingers intertwining with mine. “I’ll be right here.”

The Duke took the box, balancing it on top of his belly. Carefully, he loaded up the syringe with the testosterone, making sure to get the air bubbles up and load the approximate dose. “Now now, my boy, the friend I got this from let me know that this is a subcutaneous injection, and we’ll be starting off with a lower dose to start, and then you can choose if you want to go lower or higher from there. If we can get a bit of your blood later, I’ll have another friend of mine run tests on it to make sure it’s safe.”

“Wow, you really can do anything and everything…” I smiled, shaking my head in disbelief. “You’re incredible, Duke.” I lowered my pants, revealing the skin on my thigh.

“Perhaps so, but you must know that you are just as wonderful. It is a pleasure to get to share my life with such a wonderful man.” The Duke said pleasantly, swabbing some skin on my thigh. “Truth be told, I had grown a bit lonely myself. Having you two as companions and then something more… Well, I have to say it’s the happiest I’ve been in a long time.” He sighed. “Ah, to love and be loved. One of life’s greatest joys, right next to lei.”

My primary partner grinned. “Always with the lei.”

“I’m a man who knows what he wants in life!” The Duke tapped the syringe with one finger. “Now, are you ready?”

I looked to my primary partner, feeling as if some holy light was glowing behind my eyes. Starting now, I would be transitioning. I would be something new, something self made. I would be myself. They squeezed my hand, nodding encouragingly. “You got this.”

I took a deep breath. “Alright, Duke. I’m ready.”

#the duke #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #re8 #the duke re8 #the duke x reader #the duke x oc #duke x reader #writing #my writing #fanfiction #transmasc #trans #trans man #transitioning #hrt #hrt testosterone #transgender #fat reader

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katsukikitten · 4 years

Text

♡ Nothing but fluff baby, - 1k words comments are appreciated

Warmth.

A word that had eluded you for most of your life. Warmth of a home, warmth of a family and the warmth that blooms in your chest when you look at someone a certain way. Despite all of the cold nights and the even colder hearts, you had somehow managed to push through, to watch the hallmark movies and other holiday specials from the outside looking in. Dreaming and hoping that you too would trim the tree with tensile, place the ornaments just right and let the star atop the pine shine brightly.

And now you felt as if you were in one of them. Curled into the side of your seemingly lanky boyfriend, tucked away beneath an old festive blanket as the house twinkles in the low light of multicolored lights. The star atop the tree slow blinking as if it were one of the cats that curled on the back of the couch, reminding you that you were well, that you were warm. The TV winks low between scenes of a festive movie showing people preparing for the large holiday. Suddenly an idea forms in your head as you spring from the couch. The dark haired man had grown used to your jumping movements, allowing his eyes to lazily follow your form.

"Yes dear?" He asks, sipping at the hot cocoa you insisted he'd have, peeking at your matching pajamas you surprised him with just an hour ago.

"Cookies for santa!" You shout, bouncing on the balls of your feet. Finally fulfilling the promises you kept to your inner child, that once you were safe, once you were warm, you would believe again.

And believe you did. You pull at the tall man who gives you a pointed look and a sigh. Following you into the kitchen where there surely would be a mess in a few moments. You gather the ingredients with lightning speed as you decide to bake everyone's favorite, chocolate chip. Fumbling with the old radio in the small kitchen, breathing life into the neglected electronic as it crackles out a familiar tune. You crank the radio as high as it will go.

The holiday tune dances it's way up the garland wrapped stairs and into the ears of a young silver haired girl who was cresting into womanhood. Her teen angst kept her confined in her dark room, brooding over "homework" to avoid you. You who might take away her Papa's attention. Absentmindedly she hums the tune as her hands busy themselves with pencils and ink, when she realizes how the song wrapped itself around her tongue she sighs. Lifting herself from her spot on the floor to allow curiosity to take over.

When the young woman descends the stairs she finds the low murmuring of the TV in the living room and your loud laugh carrying from the kitchen. She thinks to turn around until she hears the rare sound of her Papa's real laugh. Her heart squeezes in her chest, threatening to fall into the endless pit in her stomach. Her feet get the best of her as they glide down the steps and into the kitchen to see just what the two of you are doing. She spots you both covered in flour as you've started another batch, the warm rich smell of chocolate and sugar fill the air. Dark eyes relax as they watch you, gazing at your form with soft, loving eyes.

The young woman's heart feels again, a negative emotion blooming in her chest as she reverts in memory. Feeling as if she were somehow left out.

"What are you doing?" She snaps, crossing her arms as she glares at you. Ever optimistic you seizes the perfect opportunity to hang out with the elusive Eri.

"Eri-chan Papa Aizawa and I are making cookies for Santa! Wanna join? I had just enough stuff for sugar cookies. We can decorate them once they cool." Your smile is too bright, your voice too cheery, her cherry red eyes slide to her father. He nods with encouragement. With a dramatic eye roll only a teenager could perfect, she plops into a stool as you clap your hands with delight.

Taking your time to place the cookies onto a cooling rack so they wouldn't over cook the oven timer beeps again. All the while cherry eyes watch you with a bit of distaste or maybe more so of misunderstanding.

"Why are we baking for Santa anyway. You know he isn't real." She scoffs before biting off the head of an undecorated reindeer. With a smile plastered to your face you look down at the cooling cookies, eyes softening as you remember what it was like to not believe in much of anything.

"If even he wasn't real, there just is something warm about baking with family isn't there?" You turn to Eri wearing a smile you had wished others had given you as you hid away in tattered clothes and cardboard boxes. You pass her a Santa cookie she watched you and Aizawa decorate. For a moment she loses herself, becoming little again as she thinks of the first time she felt safe, warm. Hoisted on the broad shoulders of a blonde haired boy who had sacrificed everything for her. The sound of music touching her for the first time, her cheeks burning from smiling so hard. Thinking of moving into this townhome, picking out her room and bedspread for her very own bed. A real bed and not just some hospital cot either.

The young woman's throat goes dry as her eyes steal all the moisture. Aizawa places his hand on her shoulder giving it a soft squeeze.

"Yea, I guess there is something about it." She places the cookie you passed her onto the plate that reads 'Cookies for Santa' before picking up an undecorated cookie. Staring down at the blank canvas as she mustered the courage to ask.

"O-oneechan. Can you help me decorate this one?" Nervous cherry eyes lock with yours, heart bursting with joy, with warmth you thought you'd never have. Another bright smile aimed towards Eri as you pick up an icing bag.

"I'd be more than happy to help make you Santa's favorite."

#aizawa x reader #shouta x reader #shoto aizawa #bnha x reader #bnha fluff #aizawa fluff #bnha holiday special

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devilrising · 2 years

Text

Don’t mind me popping in with another fic from my 25 Days collection

Mature | 1k | Getting Together | First Kiss | Pre-Slash

Confined Quarters

“Come on Potter!”

“Absolutely not, Malfoy. I am not freezing my balls off just to entertain you.”

Malfoy shook his head in disdain, the blond strands falling over his eyes. “But it would be fun,” he whined. Harry never would have taken Malfoy for a whiner.

Harry scoffed. “For you, maybe.”

“Oh come on,” he tried again. “I bet you don’t want to do it because you think you’ll fail.”

“What an obviously Slytherin attempt at manipulation, Malfoy,” Harry retorted. “Besides, just because I don’t think it’s safe to skinny dip in a frozen lake, doesn’t mean I would fail at it if I did do it.”

Harry watched Malfoy roll his eyes. “Fine. We’ll have to find something else to do.”

Being stuck in a cabin during a snowstorm wasn’t exactly Harry’s idea of a good time, but he supposed that wasn’t the point. Robards had sent them there as punishment, after all.

“Apparently, we need to learn to work together,” Harry said, deciding that the sooner Robards thought they could get along, the sooner he could get home. “So, what’s something we could do together?”

“Besides kill each other, you mean?” Malfoy scoffed.

Harry nodded, a smile pulling at the corner of lips. “We already have plenty of practice with that.”

The comment startled a laugh from Malfoy, but when Harry looked over, he was trying to cover it with a cough.

“Chess should do it, then,” Harry suggested, already moving to the conveniently placed box on top of the coffee table.

Malfoy made a show of sighing, but as Harry sat down and set the pieces out, he could see Malfoy already thinking over strategies.

~*~*~

“I don’t see why we have to get along,” Malfoy complained for the sixth time. “We aren’t even partners! We never have to see each other.”

Harry shrugged. “What if one of our actual partners is away, and we have no choice but to team up? Robards just wants to trust that we can work together.”

Malfoy sighed, moving his rook to take Harry’s bishop. “Check.”

Harry rolled his eyes, moving his knight in front of his king and blocking the attack.

The game continued on, with Malfoy eventually moving from complaining to mocking. Harry reflected every attempt at getting a rise out of him, and the mocking morphed into teasing.

The truth was, Harry found Malfoy quite appealing these days. He had seen him half naked nearly every day for the past three months—Auror training, not because he was a perv!—and the man had a body. Harry would have had to have been blind to not notice. They were also in the same theory classes, and Harry knew that Malfoy was wicked clever. He could hold a conversation with just about anyone, on just about any topic.

If Malfoy wasn’t quite so insistent on being an arsehole, Harry might actually be attracted to him.

“Checkmate,” Malfoy crowed, and Harry’s head snapped back to the board.

He cursed, but nonetheless watched as Malfoy’s queen revealed a sword, and drove it into his king’s chest.

~*~*~

“It’s so bloody cold,” Malfoy grumbled, curled up on the couch in front of the fire. He was cradling a mug of tea in his hands, and Harry could see the steam rising off it.

“Maybe if you shut the window, it wouldn’t be,” Harry quipped, not looking up from his book.

Malfoy muttered something under his breath, but otherwise remained silent.

“You know,” Harry leered, “there is something else we could do to warm up.”

“Oh?” Malfoy said, turning to fix his silver eyes on Harry. “Such as what?” If Harry didn’t know better, he’d say Malfoy was actually flirting back.

“Does it involve your balls freezing off?”

A shocked laugh ripped free from Harry’s chest, and he found himself gasping with it. He took a couple of heaving breaths before glancing back at Malfoy. “Maybe.”

Malfoy stood, placing his mug down on the window sill. “Let’s go then.”

Harry balked, his eyes widening. “Wait, you’re serious?”

“Yep. It’ll warm us up, and it’ll please Robards.”

Harry raked his eyes over Malfoy’s face. The longer he kept still, the more nervous Malfoy appeared to become. His shoulders were turning stiff, his hands closing into fists, and Harry stood before he could take back the invitation.

“I’m not sure that’s quite what Robards had in mind, but come on,” Harry said, raising his hands to gesture Malfoy closer.

Malfoy swallowed hard, his throat bobbing, before approaching Harry. Harry grabbed him by the shoulders and turned them around, pushing Malfoy up against the wall. Malfoy gasped, black pupils swallowing his silver eyes, his legs wrapping around Harry’s waist.

“You should really call me Draco,” Malfoy murmured, his forehead leaning against Harry’s, panting into his mouth.

“Alright, Draco,” Harry replied, and closed the gap.

The first brush of lips sent electricity skittering down his spine, and he gripped Malfoy—Draco—tighter. Draco breathed something that sounded suspiciously like ‘Harry’, and he kissed him even harder.

Their mouths opened further, and Draco’s fingers turned bruising on Harry’s shoulders. Harry sank his teeth into Draco’s bottom lip, pulling a moan from him.

Harry pushed back off the wall, still holding onto Draco. He pulled away slightly, murmuring, “Let’s take this somewhere more comfortable.”

Draco nodded enthusiastically against him, his legs wrapping tighter around his waist. “Salazar, you’re so strong.”

Harry chuckled against him, walking them through the cabin to the only bedroom. Without any warning, he dropped Draco onto the bed. The covers rustled as he fell, and Draco glared up at him from his sprawled out position. Harry rolled his eyes, stuck out his tongue in a show of complete maturity, and flopped onto the bed himself. He shuffled up to the pillows, laying back and dragging a hand down his chest.

“You’re bloody attractive, Draco, and if you don’t come over here right now, I will—”

Harry never got to finish that sentence, with Draco’s mouth over his cutting off any remaining words rather effectively.

It turned out that all they needed to cooperate was a game of chess, and a snowy day in confined quarters.

~*~*~

Read on AO3

Masterlist

#devilrising #drarry #draco malfoy #harry potter #drarry fanfic #drarry fanfiction #fic rec #drabble

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djarinbarnes · 3 years

Note

can I have number 8 with Mando, if you write for him?

Evanescent Sparks - The Mandalorian

8. Hands brushing unexpectedly.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

pairings: din djarin x female reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: none other than the reader being an absolute klutz and an awkward, blushing mess

a/n: so this is basically Chapter 5 canon, which I've done a twist to... This is my first time writing for the Mandalorian.... Seeing I have little to no knowledge of the Razor Crest’s interior other than what I’ve seen in the show, I've just freestyled the things from the events of chapter 5...... I don’t even know if this is good, please don’t come after me, but HERE YOU GO I love you guys and <3 stay safe

a/n 2: I’m trying to quit using y/n, so don't mind me.

I don't own the Mandalorian, © Dave Filoni, Chapter 5, The Gunslinger

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

You remember clearly when you met him the first time. One day he was just there. At the hanger where you worked for Peli, along with her droids. You’d heard him from around the corner, that modulated voice insisting on no droids, and you immediately knew you had to investigate.

There was something interesting in the way the armor on his body caught the light of the dual suns of Tatooine. You’d heard about Mandalorians in the brief years of school, the stories of the Clone Wars still fresh in your mind. You hadn’t ever thought you’d see one in real life though, yet here he was.

You knew he had to be sweating under all that heavy beskar and the clothes underneath it. He didn’t say much though. He never really talked about himself, you noted. You watched him from afar when he took off on one of Peli’s speeder bikes.

“SPARKS!” you cringed at her tone, knowing you had a long night in store for you. You reluctantly made your way down to the center of the hanger, stopping dead in your tracks when the giant crest came into view.

“Holy shit.” You muttered under your breath, taking in the holes from apparent battle, the dripping of uncertain fluids coming from the exterior.

“We have a fuel leak among other things that needs to be fixed. He requested no droids, so it’s all on us, unfortunately.” You watch as she makes her way around the crest, her indicator constantly beeping as she points it to the aircraft.

“I’ll handle the leak first, then fill it up.” You mutter out, finding your welding tools before getting to work on the Razor Crest. You feel a hand on your arm just after finishing the weld, turning to find Peli standing in front of you.

“Don’t fill it all the way. He only paid us 500 credits.” You nod and push your goggles up to your hairline, wiping your brow with the back of your hand, the warm, dry air on Tatooine making you sweat more than you’d like. “You should really be careful next time, you know. Sparks can ignite fuel, you know.” Peli let out a laugh as your eyes widened.

“Dank farrik, oh my maker.” You laughed at your mistake, realizing you could’ve easily blown up the hanger. “I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry Peli.” You look at her apologetically, to which she just lets out another laugh.

“He’s something, I know that. A Mandalorian, here in my hanger… It’s crazy.” Peli makes her way into the makeshift kitchenette of her hanger. She comes back quickly with a cup of ruby bliel, handing it to you with a nod.

You quickly gulp down the gooey drink, relishing in the way it sated your thirst. With a nod, you move around the crest, welding over holes from the blaster fight it’d taken a toll in. You quickly locate all the holes, welding them quickly but efficiently, climbing the ladder way more times than necessary.

You were sweating buckets, your whole t-shirt soaked through under the dual suns. You jumped and slid down the ladder quickly, gliding to your feet with a heavy puff. You let Peli know that you were done, and that you were going to cool off.

Once inside the confinements of the living quarters, you pull off your soaked shirt, letting it fall to the floor with a dull thud. You pull out a wet, cold cloth from the cooler, dabbing it all over your bare torso to cool yourself down.

You find a clean shirt and pull it over your head, grabbing another cup of ruby to cool you further. You make your way to the doorway of the hanger, looking over the dusty terrain of your planet. You sigh in content before squinting your eyes, trying to see something in the distance.

It was almost never boring working and living with Peli. But sometimes, you did miss the rush of Mos Eisley. You could barely see the city from 3-5, but you could dream. Dream about the cantinas and the bustling life you left behind.

You turned after a few minutes, walking back to where Peli had sat down with her droids and started a game of sabacc. You knew Peli was a master at the game, which was why you never dared to challenge her. Yet you sat down across from her, watching as she laid in three bolts and a motivator.

You silently laughed, damn well knowing she was going to win the hand over those stupid, no-good droids. You watched as she threw around the cards, making the droids tilt their heads in her direction, clearly confused as to what she was doing.

Your ears picked up the sound of something you didn’t recognize. Your head whipped toward the crest, your head tipping to one side. “Peli?” you carefully spoke up, making her look at you. Then she heard it too.

“What is that sound?” You carefully asked, and she shrugged her shoulders, pointing to a droid and asking it to fetch her blaster rifle. You both got up and you reached over, grabbing your own small blaster, holding it in front of you as you both walked towards the crest.

“I’d stay in that ship if I were you!” you heard her yell, before you both lowered your weapons, your eyes landing on a small, green creature making its way out into the sunlight from the dual moons setting on the hanger.

It looked… sad? You and Peli gave each other a look, before both your heads snapped back to the crest, from the sound of the creature giving a little wail. You watched as Peli handed over her blaster rifle to one of her droids, before crouching down, slowly.

“It’s just a…. child?” you spoke softly as Peli lifted the thing off the gangway, arms stretched in front of her.

“Let Peli take a good look at you...” You heard her say before she turned, her eyes catching yours. “Alright, there we go… Did that bounty hunter leave you all alone in that big nasty ship?” you smile at her chosen words, listening closely as the child let out another small wail.

“What… is it?” you spoke softly, stepping closer to her.

“How do I know what it is? Give me a second!” she stared at you, before turning her attention back on the child in her arms. “Alright! Would you like some food? You hungry?” The child let out another sound, and you sighed, putting your blaster into the hands of one of the droids.

“You feed it; I’ll get back to work.” You said as you grabbed your toolbox, making your way into the crest. You welded up the holes in the hull quickly, before strapping the box over your shoulder to climb the stairs to the cockpit where, what you suspect to be the navigation log, has been beeping your ear off for the past half an hour.

You sigh when you finally enter the cockpit with both your hands over your ears, trying to keep out the brain-numbing noises that are way more prominent in the closed-off space. You light all possible bulbs in the cockpit quickly before locating the log and the red alarm button, that’s been going off.

You quickly lay down on your back under the panel, finding a few detached wires that may have set of the alarm. With swift fingers you untangle the wires from the main panel, before reattaching them to the navigation log. You grin when the beeping stops and push yourself from under the panel.

You rise from the floor and, unexpectedly, comes face to face with the dank farrik Mandalorian, startling you. You feel your heart pick up the pace of its beating, and you find yourself just standing there… Unable to do something. You hadn’t even heard him come in, and the crest was barely what you could call soundproof.

“I… I’m sorry, Mandalorian, I was just fixing some wires under the panel and…” you try to look everywhere but the helmet, where you’re certain a pair of eyes are judging you. “Um… excuse me…” you whisper quietly, before brushing past the statue of a man in front of you.

You stop in your tracks as you feel your hand glide over fabric, then finding a certain warmth you hadn’t expected. Skin? You stutter as you feel something that could go for electricity and take a step back, turning to face the elephant in the room, and finding that elephant to have discarded his fucking gloves. A blush creeps into your cheeks, and it makes you want to crawl into your own oblivion.

Was he allowed to do that? Possibly. You just hadn’t expected it. You had expected a pair of leather gloves, but they were nowhere to be found. You quickly made your way around him to grasp your toolbox, before quickly muttering out a sorry, leaving the cockpit faster than your own feet could carry you, causing you to drop your toolbox on the way down the ladder.

“Dank farrik!” you yell out, quickly getting your toolbox upright, before hurriedly pushing your things back into the metal box. You scurry out of the crest, hiding your reddened face from where Peli is sitting with the child. You didn’t need her to ask questions.

Once inside the, what you assumed to be safe space of the hanger, you quickly pour out the contents of your toolbox to rearrange everything the way you like it. It a fairly easy task, except when you come to the conclusion that you’re missing one of your favorite screwdrivers. You used it in the cockpit and you- fuck - you probably forgot it there in the midst of your trembling, blushing mess of an encounter with the Mandalorian.

“You forgot this.” You let out a yelp as the modulated voice speaks up behind you, startling you yet again. You turn and find him right there, in your hanger, screwdriver in his not-so-glove-covered hand, making you gulp down a fair amount of saliva that’s gotten caught in your mouth.

“Thanks.” You whisper before taking the tool from his hand, the warmth of his palm sending even more shockwaves up your fingers, though your arms and right into your heart. He had to notice the way your skin got clammy and your heartrate picked up, but he just turned on his heel and left the hanger, leaving you to think over what the fuck just happened.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x y/n #the mandalorian x y/n #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal x reader

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sylvanfreckles · 3 years

Text

Fever Dreams

Summary: Castiel caught a bad chest cold and Sam stayed behind to look after him.

Just some soft times with these two, because I don't give them enough time together.

The Flare 'Verse, if you're not familiar with it, started Here and continued Here. Basically, Cas is human because Naomi burned his grace out in a ritual to elevate herself to a higher level. It's left him with scars and chronic pain, and the Winchesters are doing their best to take care of him. I'm still working on the first chronological story, but this one grabbed me and wouldn't let go.

...

Sam looked up from his book as the blankets on the bed rustled. He waited for a few seconds until the figure in the bed shifted around again, then set his book aside and gently pulled the blankets down enough to reveal Cas's tousled hair and pinched face.

He rested the back of his hand on the ex-angel's forehead, frowning a little at the temperature, then carded his fingers through the dark hair until he reached Cas's neck. The muscles there were tight, and Sam gently rubbed his thumb back and forth while he half-sat on the bed to be closer.

“Just a dream, Cas,” he murmured. “You're home safe. Just a dream.” It was just the two of them in the bunker at the moment—Dean was on a case, Eileen was meeting up with some old friends, and Jack was still trying to find something to help Cas's condition.

A sympathetic smile crept across his face when Cas's eyes cracked open, only to turn to a grimace of concern when the dark-haired man started coughing.

“Up you get, come on.” He slid one arm behind Cas's shoulders and gently pulled the other man up, then fumbled for the box of tissues to pass a handful to Cas.

The ex-angel might have muttered his thanks, but the tissues were pressed against his mouth as he leaned against Sam and coughed. Sam winced in sympathy and gently rubbed his friend's back, careful to avoid the sensitive scars left by Naomi's ritual.

“Ready to eat something?”

Cas shook his head and just leaned his weight against Sam. They didn't know if it was because of the way his grace had been burned out of him or just a consequence of taking human form, but Cas had trouble maintaining his body temperature now. He usually ended up curled up against the closest warm thing, whether that be a heating pad or a Winchester.

“C'mon, Cas,” Sam pleaded. “If you don't eat something Dean will never leave us alone again. He texted a dozen times while you were asleep, I'm surprised he didn't ask for a picture so he could make sure I was tucking you in the right way.”

That earned him a snort of laughter, and Sam gently pushed himself off the bed and started to lay Cas back down. “I'll bring you something, okay?”

“Wait,” Cas, voice still crackling with congestion, caught Sam's sleeve in one hand. “Not here.”

Sam raised his eyebrows high enough that he felt his hairline shift. “You need to rest, Cas. This is the best place for that.”

Cas shifted uncomfortably and stared up at Sam, somehow managing to look far too pathetic, even for a chronically ill ex-angel with a chest cold. “I need to move. I feel...confined.”

He understood that, a little. Dean could be a mother hen sometimes, and a chest cold rarely needed strict bedrest. Besides, the TV room had a deep, comfortable couch now, and Cas could rest there.

“Wanna watch a movie?” Sam offered as he helped tug the blankets away from Cas's legs. “We've still got the rest of that documentary series on deep-sea plant and animal life.”

They'd been actually really fun to watch together. When he'd been an angel, Cas had liked to venture to the depths of the ocean to study the patterns of life there, and there had been a few times he'd actually recognized the filming locations from personal experience. Sam had also ordered another set of documentaries on the ancient world, but that was mostly so Cas could point out the errors and explain everything the archaeologists were getting wrong. It was one of the things Dean rolled his eyes about and called them nerds, but they were all secretly pleased to see Cas's enthusiasm after those first long months of pain.

Sam started to hook his arm under Cas's legs to carry him out of the room, but the ex-angel waved him off and scooted to the edge of the bed on his own. So Sam stood back and held his arm out, bent at the elbow, so Cas could use it to pull himself to his feet and steady himself to walk.

“How is Dean?” Cas asked as they shuffled down the hall.

“He's pretending to be mad it's the library that's haunted and not the gym,” Sam said with a shake of his head. Dean took it personally when kids were in danger, and word of a poltergeist at a middle school had him out the door in less than an hour. “I think he's more relieved it's a spirit and not a psychic phenomenon.”

“And no one's around for his Ghostbusters references,” Cas added blandly.

Sam had to laugh. “Those too. 'Imagine, Sammy, a ghost in a library and it's not even an old lady',” he said, pitching his voice a little lower to imitate his brother.

“'He slimed me',” Cas whined, though it dissolved into a cough and they had to pause while the ex-angel caught his breath. “'They're here' might be more appropriate.”

“He's got to stop making you watch those movies,” Sam shook his head as they squeezed through the door to the TV room (not Dean Cave. Never calling it that). “This whole 'Hunting 101', it's not how it works. Real hunting isn't anything like that.”

Cas didn't answer until he was settled on one side of the u-shaped couch, sitting up in one corner so he was facing the TV with his legs stretched out along one leg of the couch.

“Isn't that what makes it entertaining?” he finally asked, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders and leaning back into the cushions.

Sam bit back his first reaction. This was Cas. Cas had been an angel for millennia before his grace had been torn out of him and left him with this frail mortal body. As much as his friend might seem innocent or naive at times, he still knew how to separate fact from fiction. “Sorry.”

“Just don't let Jack see them,” Cas continued, and Sam had to laugh at that. God...or demi-god? Elevated nephilim? Something more? Anyway, powerful though Jack might be, Sam wasn't sure he could ever see him as more than that wide-eyed kid who just wanted his father.

“I'll be right back,” he promised, patting Cas on the shoulder. There would be cream of chicken soup and apple slices in the fridge, and that would be enough to satisfy Dean the next time his older brother checked in.

Maybe.

…

They were forty-five minutes into a documentary about the Great Barrier Reef when Sam noticed Cas was shifting uncomfortably in his place on the couch.

“Cas?” Sam paused the movie and half-turned on the couch to study his friend. “You okay? Need to go back to bed?” He was sitting beside him, close enough to touch if Cas needed help, but did his best to make sure his friend didn't feel too crowded.

Cas shook his head, but Sam could still tell something was wrong. He had drank the entire mug of soup and eaten almost all of the apple slices Sam had brought, so he probably wasn't hungry. He wasn't due for more cold medicine for over an hour. “Do you need to use the bathroom?”

There was a heavy sigh, then Cas slumped against the couch. “It's cold.”

Cold. They'd learned to hate that word. If Cas got too cold he could have one of those awful flares of pain, and end up curled up and miserable for hours. They tried to head it off by tucking him back in bed with hot water bottles and heating pads, but he'd actually been enjoying sitting on the couch to watch a movie so Sam was reluctant to pack him away in his isolated bedroom.

“Hang on, here.” Sam scooted closer and tugged Cas's blanket free. He slid one arm behind his friend's back and tucked Cas in close against him before spreading the blanket back over the two of them. “One Winchester heating pad, at your service.”

“Sam...”

“Hey, I have body heat to spare,” Sam teased. “Come on.”

Cas was still reluctant. “You might get sick.”

“I might get it anyway,” he replied. “Colds get passed around, Cas, that's the truth of it.”

There were a few more seconds of hesitation, then Cas practically melted against him. They spent a few moments rearranging themselves on the couch, ending up with Sam propping one foot on the side of the couch next to Cas's legs with his arm around Cas's shoulders, and Cas leaning his head on Sam's shoulder until his hair almost brushed the tall hunter's neck.

“This isn't personal space?” Cas asked. He probably didn't mean to sound so pathetic, it was just the cold making his voice croak like that.

“I don't have personal space,” Sam joked. “You think I could live in the car with Dean for so long if I did?”

Cas seemed to consider that, then nodded and seemed to relax even further against Sam. “He's very sensitive about such things,” he murmured sleepily.

“What's that?”

In answer, Cas mumbled something into Sam's collarbone. Sam glanced down, grinning when he realized Cas had fallen asleep almost as soon as they'd gotten re-settled. He left the documentary paused and reached for his book, figuring it was time to get a few more chapters in.

His phone buzzed on the couch beside him and he picked it up, seeing yet another text from Dean.

“Hey, Dean wants to know how you're feeling,” he whispered to Cas.

Cas grunted, face still buried in Sam's shoulder. “Sie koennen hier nicht Baseball spielen.”

Sam bit back a snort of laughter. “No baseball,” he agreed. Cas talking in other languages in his sleep was nothing new, though at least it was German this time and Sam could almost understand him. He texted back that Cas had eaten and was sleeping, then after another moment's thought held the camera out and took a selfie.

He looked the picture over with a smile before sending it off to Dean. In it Sam was leaning back against the couch with a big grin on his face, and Cas had his face squashed into Sam's shoulder, already sleeping so hard he was practically drooling.

Setting the phone face-down on the couch, he picked his book back up and ignored the repeated vibrations of his brother's reply messages. Cas was all right, Dean needed to focus on his case, and he really wanted to get through another chapter or two before he had to wake Cas for his next dose of medicine.

“No baseball,” he repeated, squeezing Cas's shoulders in a sideways hug. “Just get some rest.”

...

End notes:

The first two quotations Sam and Cas say are from the first Ghostbusters movie, and the second one Cas says is from the Poltergeist movie.

“Sie koennen hier nicht Baseball spielen.” - rough German translation of "You can't play baseball here". I used an online translator, so I apologize if it's incorrect. It's not a line from anything, I just wanted some random dream-talk. (Now corrected thanks to the lovely @slipper007! I couldn't do accents in my word processor, so thanks for the alternate spelling! I'll remember that!)

#supernatural #fic #fanfic #castiel #sam winchester #castiel and sam friendship #platonic sastiel #angst #hurt/comfort #fluff #the flare 'verse #chronic illness #chronic pain #human castiel\

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fictionalabyss · 3 years

Text

Protector : Back to therapy.

Pairing : Dean x Reader, Sam, Alex (OC), Abby (OC)

Word count : 1,545

Warnings : Panic/fear, stalking/following, pissed Dean, prison life : threat of solitary confinement. Series TW : Domestic Abuse is a constant topic- be it mentioned, or actually happening.

Continuation of this series was commissioned by : @iflostreturntosteverogers

Part 18 of Protector.

Masterlist • Patreon • Ko-fi.

“Mommy?”

You heard whispering as you started to wake up, eyes gently fluttering open just to close again a moment later. Opening them once more, you blinked a few times to get your vision straight. Down by the door you saw a familiar too tall figure with your young daughter in his arms. “Hey, baby.” you smiled. “Did you have fun with Uncle Sammy today?” She chatted away and you looked to Sam with a smile and a stretch. But as you started sitting up, you noticed you hadn’t seen your son. “Where’s Alex?” Sam didn’t answer. “Sam? Where’s my son.”

Sam put Abby down, letting her run off to play with some toys that were still scattered around the living room from earlier that morning.

“Where the fuck is my son, Sam?” Panic and fury were taking over.

He opened his mouth to answer, but from outside you heard a bike pull in. Shooting up from the couch you rushed to the front door and pulled it open. He was killing the engine as you stepped down that first step. He stepped off the bike and looked up before pulling off his helmet. “Hey, mom.”

You rushed for him, wrapping your arms around him as tight as you could and held on to him like he’d get pulled away if you let up in the slightest.

“Mom?”

“You’re grounded.” you told him, letting the fear that had gripped you a moment ago leak into your voice. “You understand me? A week, Alex. You're at school or at home, no garage, John can find someone else.”

He didn’t fight you, didn’t argue. “Okay, mom.”

You pulled away, wiping at your face with your sleeve. “Go to your room.” Alex just nodded before heading inside, but you couldn’t follow him, not yet.

Sam stood in the open doorway behind you, watching you. “He left when you did.”

“Then why the fuck didn’t you call me?” you turned, snapping at him.

“You needed to relax.”

“I need to know my fucking son is okay. I trusted that he was with you! I trusted you to bring him home!”

“He went to Dean.”

“He- Are you sure?”

Sam nodded. “Dean called me. Only reason I came home without hunting his ass down, Dean told me he’d been there and Dean had talked some sense into him, got him to agree to stick with school. I knew he was on his way back home.”

“I didn’t want him to go.”

“That’s probably exactly why he went.” Sam pointed out.

“I didn’t want him to see Dean like that.”

“He’s seen Dean like that before..” You shook your head. “Dean’s been shot since you two have-”

“It was summer, Sam. Alex spent a week camping with his friend. Alex has never seen Dean bloody. Never seen him that broken.” you looked up meeting his eyes. “Dean is- he’s our protector. Alex’s dad, he was… nothing was worse than that to Alex. Nothing. And Dean.. Dean got rid of the big bad evil in our lives. He’s up on a pedestal, invincible almost, to Alex. He needed that to be true to get through it all, he needed to think that nothing could hurt Dean in order to feel like he was finally safe. So we never let him see it. He’s seen the scars and such, once they’ve healed but you know Dean, it's a story. He laughs and talks about how worse off the other guy is like it’s no big deal. He’s never seen Dean broken.”

Sam glanced back into the house quickly, seeing Abby still playing quietly with her toys on the floor, he stepped out and towards you, cupping your face in his hands and making you look up at him. There was so much pain and guilt in your eyes that it hurt him. “It’ll be okay.”

“Will it? He barely sleeps, I know the nightmares are back. He won’t say anything but I know they are. I don’t know what to do, I don’t know how to make it easier on him-”

“I’ll be taking him to therapy,” he promised. “I’ll drive him and walk him in there to make sure he goes. Once a week, right?” You gave Sam a nod. “You’re not alone, it’s not just you. I’m here.” You gave him another nod, trying to blink away the tears. “Right now, I’m going to head home. Gonna grab my shit, and Brutus and I are moving in.”

“Dean told you.”

“Yeah. Honestly, though, if you would have just asked I would have sooner. So, get ready for someone who drools on everything you love.” Sam gave you a half smile. “And Brutus.” His smile widened when he saw the light smile grace your lips despite your sadness.

“I’m used to the drool.”

“Yeah, I forgot Dean drools in his sleep.” Sam chuckled.

“I meant Abby.” you rolled your eyes. “But yeah, he does, doesn’t he.”

“You good?” You gave Sam a nod. “Alright, I won’t be long. And don’t worry about dinner either, I’ll bring something in. It’s been a long day for everyone.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

“Anytime.” He gave you a chaste kiss on the forehead before he pulled away and headed for the car he’d driven Abby home in.

You watched Sam pull out of the driveway and start down the street. He gave you a smile and a wave as he went past, and you returned the smile before it fell from your lips again. Sighing, you were turning back towards your house when the car parked across the street caught your attention. The driver seemed to be looking down at his phone, his car still running like he was waiting for someone. Ignoring it, you turned and headed inside.

You were passing the living room window as the car pulled away and disappeared down the street.

“Alex!” Sam called out as he put the pizza box on the table. Abby was squealing from her chair at Brutus who was sniffing happily at her feet. You were bringing plates over to the table, smiling at Abby when Sam called out a second time. “Alex, come on, supper time.”

“Mom?” You turned, and Alex stood just inside the kitchen. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I took off on Sam without telling anyone I just-”

“I know.” You opened your arms and Alex stepped into the hug. “I was so scared when I woke up and you weren’t with Sam. Please, please don’t do that to me again.”

Alex nodded as he hugged you tight. “I’m sorry.”

“Sit and eat, both of you.” Sam motioned to the table as he sat. Alex pulled away and sat in his usual spot next to his baby sister. “No more shit, Alex.” Sam tried to sound like a stern Dean.

“I know. I’ll be in school tomorrow, no more skipping, I promise. I’m even working on catching up on my work.”

“Dean gave you an earful, huh?” you asked. Alex nodded, taking a slice of pizza and putting it onto his plate.

“I’m not just talking about school, Alex. You’re going back to therapy.” Alex looked to Sam. “Your mom already made the appointment. We’re going every Thursday.”

“We?” he looked from Sam to you.

“I’m going to take you.” Sam took a slice of pizza of his own.

“I can go on my own, I promise I won’t take off.”

“It’s not just that, Alex. I know Dean being gone is hard for you guys so I’m going to do what I can to show that I’m here for you. So Thursdays, I’ll drive you, I’ll wait for you, then we’ll stop somewhere after and have dinner. Sound good?” Alex nodded. “Good.”

“Dean gave you an earful too, huh?” Alex teased, making Sam smile.

“Something like that, yeah.” Sam chuckled. “But you two.. You really need to learn to ask for help when you need it. Or you’ll be getting and earful about that, too.” Sam smiled, glancing from Alex to you while bringing the pizza slice up to his mouth and taking a bite.

It was three days after seeing you that Dean got a letter in the mail call. The return address was nothing more than a PObox, no name. He wasn’t surprised to find it had been opened, of course they’d go through his mail, they went through everyone's mail.

Opening it up, he saw it was just pictures. No letter, no hint as to who sent it. Just pictures. Tossing the envelope onto his bed, he turned the pictures over and his face paled. That was his house. His family.

They were pictures of you and Sam standing out in the front yard. Your face in Sam’s hands as you looked up at him. He flipped to the next one and it was much the same. Your face in Sam's hands as he stood close to you. The third and final one, was Sam pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Son of a bitch.” Dean growled, throwing the pictures and turning to pace the room.

A bang sounded on his cell door. “Winchester! Calm down!”

“Fuck you!” Dean spat back at the guard.

“You want to go back to solitary, asshole?”

*If you like this, please consider supporting my work*

Tagging : Protector : @jaycc7983 @volleyballer519 @meganlpie @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo @londoncallingbutiwontpickup @valsworldofcreativity @samsgirl93

Dean - @akshi8278 @adoptdontshoppets @evyiione @karikatz12481 @idksupernatural @deandreamernp

SPN - @sandlee44 @just-another-busy-fangirl @mrswhozeewhatsis @deanandsamsbitch @deans-baby-momma @thebescht @67-chevy-baby @supraveng @musiclovinchic93 @holyfuckloueh @ksgeekgirl @hobby27 @maddiepants @roxyspearing @onethirstyunicorn @fandom-princess-forevermore @kalesrebellion @deanwanddamons @thoughts-and-funnies

All tags - @sorenmarie87 @artemisthebadger @winchesterprincessbride @iflostreturntosteverogers @akfonkin @rebelminxy @foxyjwls007 @onethirstyunicorn @shaelyn102 @supernaturalenchanted @kazkingdom @babypink224221 @emoryhemsworth @ilovefanfic86 @pie-with-hunters @anaelsbrunette @lazinessisalliknow @feelmyroarrrr @letsdisneythings @cdwmtjb8 @notyourtypicalrose @xostephanie @ilovedeanspie @defenderrosetyler @amandamdiehl

#protector #dean x reader #dean winchester #reader insert #biker!dean #biker!au #au #dean #dean fic #dean winchester fic #spn #spnfic #spn au #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural au

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disneygirl626 · 4 years

Text

Peter Parker x Reader :Journey: (2/2)

(Y/n) stood sideways in front of the mirror, a frown etched deep in her features.

“If you keep frowning like that your face is going to get stuck.”

She jumped and turned, watching her husband walk over to her. “Haha, very funny.”

“What’re you doing anyway?” Peter asked with a chuckle.

“Pete, look, the baby bump is already showing! They’re going to see right through me!” (Y/n) said, looking back at the mirror and placing her hands on her stomach.

While she was right, there was a bump, that’s also all it was. A bump. Barely even that, to be honest.

“Honey, I don’t think they’ll notice it,” Peter said, wrapping his arms around his wife from behind. His hands landed on her stomach and she smiled.

“What time is dinner again?” (Y/n) asked.

“Pepper said to be there at 6, but Tony said 7 so I have no idea,” Peter said, earning a laugh from (Y/n).

“May and Happy are coming too, right?” (Y/n) asked.

“Yep. How do you think we should tell everyone about the baby?” Peter asked.

“I don’t know. There’s so many options!” (Y/n) had been watching YouTube videos all day in preparation. She figured this is something they should’ve planned beforehand, but time had gotten away from her and before she knew it it was the day of the dinner and they still had no plan.

“We could do the picture thing,” Peter suggested.

“But who would take it?” (Y/n) asked as she went back to getting ready.

Peter plopped down on their bed with a bounce. “Oh yeah… Why don’t we do the onesie thing? Where it says ‘coming soon’ or something like that.”

“I think you have to have those custom made,” (Y/n) said.

The couple sat in silence, each racking their brains to think of something.

“What do you think of the ultrasound idea?” (Y/n) asked.

“Nah, it needs to be more creative,” Peter said, making his wife smirk.

“What’s that look for?” Peter asked, grinning.

“You’re just adorable,” (Y/n) said.

Peter’s grin widened before it slowly started to fade. “Have you.. have you thought anymore about telling your parents?”

His wife’s smile faded as well. After (Y/n) had gotten engaged to Peter, she and her family had gotten into a huge argument with her family. Her parents highly disapproved of Peter and wanted (Y/n) to go back to school instead of settling down so quickly.

They’d been invited to the wedding but no one had shown up. When Tony found out about that, he had offered to walk (Y/n) down the aisle and give her away. To say that she had started crying was an understatement.

Anyway, she hadn’t heard from her family since before the wedding so she hadn’t planned on telling them about the baby.

“I’ve thought about it. I just don’t know, Peter. There’s only two ways this could go and neither of them are good.”

“It’s completely up to you, (N/n). I’ll support whatever you choose,” Peter said. (Y/n) gave him a small smile.

She finished getting ready, but couldn’t shake that thought out of her head. If she did try to call them they could either ignore her or answer and give her a lecture about how she’s too young to be a mom and yada yada yada.

Her and Peter discussed how to surprise the rest of the family during the whole ride to the compound and came up with the perfect plan.

(Y/n) began shaking with nervous excitement as they pulled up to the compound.

“You ok?” Peter asked, frowning a little bit.

“Mhm,” she replied, climbing out of the car as May came to greet them.

“Hi guys!” she said happily. She ran over to (Y/n) and squeezed her in a hug. “I’ve missed you both!”

(Y/n) laughed as she hugged May. “We’ve missed you too!”

“Are you ok? You look… different. Not bad different, just different. Like you’re… glowing almost.”

(Y/n) froze for a split second. Peter saved her from having to answer as he walked over and squeezed his aunt in a hug.

May eyed (Y/n) suspiciously as the trio headed inside, but she didn’t say anything else about it.

“Hey, lovebirds,” Tony said with a grin.

Peter rolled his eyes but (Y/n) just smirked. The night continued on with (Y/n) on the verge of a nervous breakdown. She was sure they saw right through her. What if they weren’t happy about it? What if they thought they were too young to be parents? Her mom had been in her life, but she wasn’t exactly the best mom in the world. What if she wasn’t a good mom? What if-

“Hey.”

(Y/n) pulled herself out of her spiral of worry and looked up to find her husband watching her with a frown. “You ok?” he whispered, giving her hand a squeeze.

She forced a smile and nodded. “I’m ok. Just… tired I guess.”

Peter didn’t look like he believed her, but they didn’t have the chance to talk about it before FRIDAY announced the takeout they ordered had arrived.

As they sat around the living room and munched on the food, (Y/n) caught her husband’s eye and nodded, biting her lip in a smile. Her hands trembled as she handed May and Happy and Tony and Pepper a small gift as the conversation died down.

“What’s this?” May asked suspiciously, eyeing the small rectangle box with a little smile.

“A present,” (Y/n) replied, sitting next to Peter and taking his hand.

The couple’s opened their respective boxes, pulling out a sandwich baggie with ‘Spider-baby coming soon!’ written on it and a positive pregnancy stick in it.

Pepper was the first to catch on. She let out a happy little scream and jumped up, throwing the baggie at Tony in the process.

(Y/n) stood as Pepper practically bounced over and threw her arms around her and Peter. (Y/n) laughed as May caught on next, having about the same reaction as Pepper. Happy and Tony caught on shortly after that. They were excited but their reaction was a bit calmer than the women.

The months seemed to fly by after that. The first trimester had been rough. Morning sickness had hit (Y/n) like a brick wall. Most of the time she could only eat a couple saltines and drink some chicken broth.

There had been one point where they’d almost had to go see Helen, but thankfully everything worked itself out. They did call Dr. Cho a couple times, but without being able to actually see (Y/n), she had to guess it was from the radiation that changed Peter’s DNA.

“But-but he or she isn’t going to be an actual spider-baby, right?” (Y/n) had asked, having gone pale.

“No, I don't think so, (Y/n). He or she might have some powers, but I highly doubt it,” Helen had replied.

During the second trimester, the morning sickness gradually left and (Y/n) was hit with a whole bunch of cravings. The second trimester became (Y/n)’s favorite part of the pregnancy. She was able to actually eat normal food without puking her guts out ten minutes later and she felt great!

“(Y/n), are you sure you should be up there?”

“Ned, relax, it’s just a ladder.”

“Exactly, it’s a ladder! It could topple over at any second!”

“It won’t if you’re holding it.”

Ned tightened his grip on the metal ladder as he watched one of his best friends attempt to paint the wall in front of her. They were keeping the baby’s gender a surprise until he or she was born, so they had been a pretty sage green for the walls.

Peter was returning tomorrow night from a business trip with Stark Industries, so (Y/n) had called Ned and MJ to come help her decorate the nursery to surprise Peter.

The puking from the first trimester had taken its toll on (Y/n). She was a lot thinner now, except for the growing bump, and got dizzy pretty easily.

(Y/n) inched closer to the wall, much to Ned’s dismay. “(Y/n), do I need to call MJ?”

“No, I’m perfectly capable of doing this,” (Y/n) said, tongue poking out the side of her mouth as she concentrated on not hitting the ceiling.

“Capable of doing what?” MJ asked as she walked in. She carried bags from various baby stores, which she set in a pile in the middle of the room.

“(Y/n)’s trying to give me a heart attack,” Ned replied.

Said woman glared at him. “Am not.”

“(Y/n), do you really think you should be up there? What if you have a dizzy spell?” MJ asked, crossing her arms.

“I’ll be fine. Just let me get this last part then I’ll - oh!”

MJ and Ned raced over, but (Y/n) didn’t fall. Instead, she dropped the roller as her hand flew to her bump.

“What? What’s wrong?” Ned asked.

“He or she kicked!” (Y/n) said, grinning. She got down from the ladder and grabbed her friend’s hands, placing them on her belly. The baby kicked again, making grins pull at Ned and MJ’s lips.

“I wish Peter was here!” (Y/n) said, smiling bigger than she had in a while.

“(Y/n)?” someone called, making all three heads turn to the living room.

“Peter!” (Y/n) said happily, running to the doorway. She planted a kiss on his lips before grabbing his hand and putting it on her belly.

“(Y/n), what-?”

“Shh! Just watch!”

Sure enough, the baby kicked Peter’s hand. “Whoa!”

He grinned and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug.

The third trimester brought cramps, swollen feet, and weekly checkups. As the baby grew bigger, (Y/n)’s body began having a hard time adjusting. She became iron deficient and was confined to bed rest within the last couple weeks of her pregnancy due to other complications.

“Peter, I swear, I’ll be ok. Go be Spider-man for a little bit. I’ll call you if anything happens,” (Y/n) said, giving her husband’s hand a squeeze.

“But-”

“No buts. Baby and I will be ok, I promise.”

“What if you have to go to the bathroom? Or what if you get hungry?” Peter asked.

“I called MJ. We’re going to have a girls night,” (Y/n) said, one hand rubbing her large stomach while the other held her husband’s hand tightly.

Peter hesitated. “You swear you’ll call me if anything happens?”

“Yes,” (Y/n) said with a loving smile.

“Fine. I’ll only be gone for a few hours though, ok?”

“Ok. Stay safe, love,” (Y/n) said, pecking his lips before he got up.

“You too,” Peter said. He gave her belly a kiss before suiting up and jumping out the window.

“I will never get used to that,” (Y/n) sighed.

MJ showed up half an hour later and the girls filled up with junk food and cheesy rom-coms.

“So when are you due?” MJ asked as she left to refill the popcorn bucket.

“Two more weeks. But we don’t even know if it’ll actually happen on that day,” (Y/n) said, resting her head on the pillow behind her as she scrolled through Instagram.

A sharp pain shot through her body, making her wince. She didn’t think much of it, it’s been happening a lot lately. Then water began pooling under her thighs. She paled and muttered a curse.

“Uh.. Michelle?”

“I’m coming! Don’t play the movie yet!” MJ called back.

“MJ, my water broke!”

A crash came from the kitchen as MJ ran back into the bedroom. “Are you ok? Does anything hurt?”

“No-no, I’m ok. What-what should I do?” (Y/n) said as the situation began to set in.

“Call Peter. I’ll get your bag and your shoes,” MJ said.

(Y/n) had never been more thankful for her friend’s calmness before now. She tried her husband five times before giving up and leaving a message. She then tried Tony, who answered on the third ring.

“Hey, (Y/n), what’s up?”

“Tony, my water just broke and I can’t get a hold of my husband. I sent him out to be Spider-man for a little bit, but now he’s not answering!”

“OK, stay calm, (N/n). I’ll go look for him and make sure everything’s ok. Are you by yourself?”

“No, MJ is here with me. Call me when you find him!” (Y/n) said as MJ ran back in with (Y/n)’s sandals and hospital bag.

“Will do, kid.”

They hung up and called the hospital. Due to all of her complications so far, they told her to come in right away.

So MJ hailed a cab and helped her very pregnant friend down the stairs and into said cab. ON the way, they call Ned who met them at the hospital.

(Y/n) was called back into a room almost immediately with her friends by her side.

“Anything from Tony?” (Y/n) asked MJ.

As if on cue, her phone began ringing. MJ put it on speaker and said, “Tony? Did you find him?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. We’re on our way now. How’s she doing?”

“I’m fine, just get here quickly please!” (Y/n) said.

“We’re almost there!” Tony said before they hung up.

Well, after that phone call things rapidly went downhill. They gave her an epidural, and shortly after that (Y/n)’s blood pressure began dropping drastically, resulting in some panicked nurses and doctors.

(Y/n) began having trouble staying awake and the epidural wasn’t even working, which meant she was still in pain.

“MJ!”

MJ and Ned looked up from the seat they’d claimed as Peter and Tony ran in. Peter had a black eye and a cut on his cheek, but other than that he looked ok.

“Where is she? Is she ok?” Peter asked.

“Her blood pressure is dropping. They kicked us out,” Ned said.

“She’s in that room,” MJ said, pointing discreetly to the room across from them.

Peter raced in to find his pregnant wife pale and asleep while a doctor and nurse talked next to her. They both looked up when Peter walked in.

“I’m Peter, I’m her husband. What’s going on?” he said quickly.

“We’re going to have to do an emergency c-section, it’s not healthy for your wife or your baby if we try to wait,” the doctor said.

So that’s what happened. Almost three hours later, the Spider-baby was brought into the world and (Y/n)’s blood pressure started rising back to normal. She woke up almost thirty minutes after the baby was born to find Peter sitting next to her bed and holding her hand.

“Is the baby ok? Where-what happened?” she asked weakly.

“The baby is great. They have her in the NICU just to be safe for a couple days, but they said as soon as you feel like it we can go visit her,” Peter said, a soft smile on his face.

“Her? It’s a girl?” (Y/n) asked, smiling.

“We have a daughter, (N/n),” Peter said.

They found (Y/n) a wheelchair then went straight to the NICU.

“You must be Baby Parker’s parents. She’s doing great, she should be able to leave in a few days,” a nurse said with a kind smile.

“Thank you,” Peter said.

“Pete, she’s so beautiful,” (Y/n) said with tears in her eyes.

“What should we name her?” Peter asked.

“You pick the first name and I’ll pick the middle name,” (Y/n) said.

“Clara,” Peter said almost instantly.

“May,” (Y/n) said, just as quickly.

They smiled. “Clara May Parker.”

——

A/N: Hey everyone! Thanks for reading! I know I brought up the parent thing, then never did anything with it so I was thinking of doing a little spinoff oneshot of this later on. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed these twoshots!

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #reader inserts #x readers #pregnant reader #peter parker x pregnant!reader #tom holland #zendaya #jacob batalon #tony stark #may parker #robert downey jr #michelle jones #ned leeds #fanfiction #fanfic #marvel #spiderman #marvel movies

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we-dragons · 3 years

Text

I'm from a different dimension actually Chapter 4 Damian x reader

Pulled away to another world, Y/N uses magic science and a Little bird to help her get back home and possibly be rid of an apocalyptic event. "So, will you succumb to your doubts completely or step into the sun of this new world?"

We didn't stay in the library very long, in fact as soon as I stepped foot in the space I was dragged back out by the back of my collar by my science partner. And despite showing my protest was thrown into the back of a black car with a surprised boy on the other side of it. Other than the look of shock on his face, his black hair was styled to part down the middle and wide tired-looking blue eyes. He regained his composure and displays a nervous grin on his face his eyes twitching as Damian slid in beside me.

"Damian who's our guest, and why is she here?" There was a hit of displeasure in his voice but not necessarily aimed at me.

"This is my project partner since father made it very clear I was grounded," Damian replies coldly, glaring at the male in front of him. The air was deathly still and I could feel a cold chill travel between them.

"Master Damian, Master Tim are we ready to leave?" an old man peers back at us from the driver's seat, his eyes land on me and he smiles slightly. "You must be Ms. (y/n), master Damian said you we coming over to work on a school assignment on scientific devices."

"Y-yes, sir!" He nods turning back to the wheel, we leave the parking lot, and out the window, I spot Molly waving in my direction as the school pulls out of view.

The ride was short, to say the least, and filled with air so thick you could make egg drop soup with it. Tension only seemed to rise as Tim tried to talk to me he was immediately shut down by Damian growling or glaring at him. For me this ride felt like an eternity in reality it was about ten minutes, and my stomach dropped when we pulled up to the building. The building fits perfectly to the name of the city towering behind spiked gates that creaked as it opened, the odd feeling of the place increased recalling the last time I was in a similar place, and I swallow the feeling pushing it back. The car pulled to the doors letting me leave the confined space of the car, being pulled out of it of course by Damian who marches on faster than I can keep up and he doesn't stop till he gets inside the door where he is tackled by a Great Dane. I pull my wrist to my chest rubbing the now sensitive skin, a laugh erupts from beside me, Tim stares down at Damian as if he won something.

"You should be more careful about your pets Damian, it seems this one got the better of you." He says attempting not to smile too widely, the boy on the floor however was not impressed pushing the dog off of him.

"Screw you, Drake." He grumbles getting up and points the dog out the door, the Dane happily obliged leaping out just as Alfred move out of the way.

"Master Richard must be home, shall I call him for you?" The boys both winced at the name, the looked over at me then back at Alfred.

"No!" they said in unison then peered at each other in disgust.

"Umm" I start gathering their attention. "listen I need to get home by 6 so I can feed my cat It's already 3:10 so.." I clap my hands together tilting my head slightly. "are we ready to get this show on the road?"

_____________________________________________________________

Even after we had gotten upstairs to their enormous library we found nothing about the Astrolabe anywhere not even in Islamic art or Greek sciences. So I used my knowledge on the subject there was plenty on the subject so I pull out my notebook and start writing.

"What are you doing?" a gruff voice says. I look up and see Damian glaring down at my notebook.

"Writing down what I know starting from Greece," I pull my finger down the outline I made, " to Mariam Al-Astrolabiya, and sailors. Ending with mathematic importance and finishing with overall importance." He looks at me a little surprised but his face pulls back into his regular scowl.

"How do you know any of that already?"

"Well from many sources really, I had books on the Islamic golden era and Greece's people of importance, the Minnesota renaissance festival, and my mom," I said quite proudly reminiscing the times my family would spend there, well my dad was only in it for chain mail, we would learn about the past, see the fire shows, we would always have so much fun, especially when we were with mom.

"Was your mother a historian?" He moved over and took my notebook to read over what I had.

"Not really she was an archeologist by trade, but I guess, she did teach Islamic golden age and Mid-evil centuries of Europe."

"Was your mother professor Astrid Hopperfeild?" My heart didn't beat, I stare at him, disbelief filling my core as that pit built up some more.

I smile in hopes that I cover up any nervousness, "Yes that's my mother, did you know her at all." He gives me another off look and gets up. He goes to a chest on the far left of the library and opens it he taking out a large file box and sets it in front of me. "I don't know her personally but," he takes out a book from the box and hands it to me. "she left very detailed journals about her findings." The book was a light purple and leather-bound with an old fashioned clasp in the front, I didn't believe it at first, then open the book examining the ink and I smell the pages.

"These are differently her's only, my mother was the only one I know who would write with Lilac scented ink and a classic dip pen." My eyes start to water and I close the book so I don't get any of the pages wet. "How did you get this by grandma said they were stolen." He scoffs.

"They were sold two years ago at an auction in South Dakota, my father bought every last copy"

"I knew it.....they were too greedy to look past the fortune they would bring." I look up at Damian. "How did you know? Why show me these? I could have gone my whole life without needing to know they were still around."

"Your handwriting is very similar and It was convenient," he shifts putting the box on the floor so he could see me better, "I was going to ask you myself later but being paired with you on this project was just perfect. I wanted to know the disappearance of the (L/N) family and Astrid Hopperfeild, along with the last three of her books."

I push myself out of my chair making it leave a loud clattering noise, I quickly gather my things and put my mother's book in his hands. " Thank you for your hospitality and your time, I will be leaving now. I will finish this report at my house and we can decide on a project later at school." I run as fast as I can to the door taking my jacket from the coat rack and rush out, running as fast as I could from this place. I hear a thunderclap and before I feel the rain, I pull my hood up and hide my skin the best I could. I run for ten minutes before I reach my apartment, my body soaking wet and my skin burning. I rip the wet clothing from my skin and rush to the mirror to see the damage. I wasn't going to school tomorrow or even the next, my body was covered in scales that are going to need to be removed I was going to be ill when I wake up the next morning, I knew that this wasn't the first time anyway. I just needed to call the school tomorrow. I sigh giving Nightmare his food and heading once again to my closet pulling out three books bound together by brown twine that are dear to me. A note was attached to it, Lilac ink wafting the air as I reread my favorite line from it, over and over again.

It was 8 when I decided I needed to go to bed the weight of today's experiences sinking into me. People here still know about the books, they aren't safe, and neither am I. My mother's last note to me played to me in my mind and I feel the tears run down my cheeks.

Just remember I love you my little one, and this secret is only ours.

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numericalbridge · 5 months

Text

Title: Mallow

Fandom: The Owl House

Rating: G

Word count: 9340

Main characters: Darius, that one little abomination (Mallow)

Other characters: the previous Golden Guard (Virgil), Eber, Raine, Luz, various palismen

Summary:

An AU where the little abomination was the previous Golden Guard's palisman

If you prefer to read it in smaller parts:

[part 1] - [part 2] - [part 3]