#That is nervous love in her eyes and nobody can convince me otherwise | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

honeybadgerwritings · 2 years

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Don’t Worry Your Pretty Little Head

Pairing: Peter Ballard x Afab Fem! Reader - 001 x Afab Fem! Reader

Requested: request for smut prompts 8 28 29 33 with Peter Ballard or Jamie, whichever you think is more fitting! i love ur writing <3 hope ur doing well

Summary: An exhausted, overworked reader is forced to stay on shift over night. Can Peter convince her to take a break?

Warnings: Smut, Finger Sucking, Fingering, Oral (Fem Recieving), Impact Play (Pussy Spanking), Extreme Overstimulation, Dumbification, Praise Kink (LMK if I missed anything.)

A/N: I feel like a whore... that’s all

Prompts:

8. “Suck on my fingers baby.”

28. “Does it make you nervous when I stare?”

29. “Your thighs are shaking so much.”

33. “Just relax for me sweet girl, I’ll make you feel good.”

⚠️ This fic is 18+ so minors DNI ⚠️

———————

You aren’t supposed to be here.

You’re supposed to be at home on your couch, eating a microwaved TV dinner and watching sitcom reruns on your old, barely working television, much like you normally do after your shifts are over. But no. You’re stuck at your shitty job overnight.

Because your boss physically will not let you leave.

If you didn’t work for a top secret government facility, you would definitely be concerned about the legalities of this situation. However, because you do, you have to deal with these types of things no questions asked. Hawkins National Laboratory is not a place anyone should cross, or they might end up six feet underground with nobody looking for them.

There had been a fight earlier in the day involving two of the children, which meant quite a bit of paper work needed to be done. Normally it would be split up between the two nurses who were on duty at the time, because otherwise it would take way too long to complete.

But unfortunately for you, your secondary nurse came up with some stupid excuse to leave early, complaining of an upset stomach and nausea. Funnily enough, at lunch she’d been talking about going out with friends tonight and “getting wasted.”

You could see right through her lies, but much to your dismay, Dr. Martin Brenner could not. For someone who claims to be so intelligent, he can be real thick in the head sometimes.

He had sent the other nurse home with a wave of his hand, before turning to you with an annoyed, “You are not to leave this building until that paperwork is complete. Am I understood?”

You opened your mouth to tell him that was unattainable for you, but your office door was shut in your face before you could even make a sound.

That was five hours ago, and everyone else had since gone home, give or take a couple night guards and the overnight orderly. After hours, the level of staff significantly dwindles down to just those who are here for security purposes.

So here you are, typing away on your computer, mindlessly entering file after file into the system. Your eyes hurt from staring at the screen for so long, your fingers ache from the never ending typing and writing you’ve been doing, and your brain is absolutely fried.

You had hoped you could get it all done in time to leave and get at least a few hours of sleep, but that was proving to be impossible. You just want take a break from all this thinking and go home. Home to your warm, comfy bed.

You can’t help but close your eyes, longing to be wrapped up in your cozy sheets with nothing else in the world to worry about. Your head resting on the cold side of your pillow as the fireplace crackles next to you. You don’t even realize your fingers have remained pressed down on the keyboard until a hand gently clasps your shoulder.

“I may not be an expert darling, but I don’t think this is quite the information they’re looking for.”

Your eyes shoot open and you jump slightly at the sound of the voice. You glance over your shoulder to see your friend Peter in all his glory, staring down at you in nothing but amusement. You can’t help but stare back, eyes tracing his every - perfectly sculpted - feature. It’s almost unfair to you how beautiful he is; some days you even find yourself feeling jealous. The rest of the time though, you’re swooning.

As cheesy as it may sound, it’s the truth. It might be the way he speaks to with such tenderness, or maybe the way he gently touches you; one of his hands always placed on the small of your back, on your shoulder, or sometimes even in your hair when he feels like playing with it. Your favorite though?

Anytime you’re even a little nervous, he doesn’t hesitate to grasp your hand into his. It makes you flustered every time without fail, though he finds it endearing.

He always makes the same face when he’s amused with you too, a smirk resting on his lips and his eyes lighting up while he teases you about your bright pink cheeks. Much like the same face he’s making at you right now.

Oh, wait.

“Sorry, what’d you say?”

His smirk grows, and he huffs out a small laugh. One of his hands moves to brush the hair from your face, while the other reaches over, gently pulling your finger from where it had been pressing down on one of the keys.

Your brows furrow as you turn back towards your computer, seeing the screen filled with nothing but the letter “P.” You can’t help but groan, dropping your head into your crossed arms. Peter chuckles, sitting down on the table next to the computer, watching your utter misery.

“I thought you only work day shift.” You say, muffled.

“I don’t know where you got that idea from. I work plenty of night shifts.” You can’t help but raise your head, staring at him, dumbfounded. “How the fuck do you do it? This is hell.”

He huffs out a sigh, his amusement now being mixed with pity as he studies your features. You look exhausted. Hair that was once neatly tucked away into your bun has now fallen messily, and your eyes have formed dark circles under them, only highlighting how tired you must be.

“I heard what happened. Brenner told me to ‘key an eye on you’ in fact.”

Your face falls into one of disbelief, “You’re kidding.” He shakes his head, and you roll your eyes, repeatedly pressing the backspace button on the keyboard, “This is so stupid. It’s already almost midnight, and I’m only halfway through this stuff. My mind is fried Peter. It hurts to think.”

He watches you for another moment as you type away maniacally, entering the correct information into the system this time.

“You know…” he reaches over, placing one of his hands gently over yours, causing you to look at him, “It doesn’t hurt to take a break once in a while.”

You think about it for a second, and only a second, before shaking your head and continuing to type, “I can’t, I have to get this done. I want to actually get some sleep tonight.”

He frowns, but doesn’t say anything else as he leans back to watch you work.

You continue typing for another few minutes, completely zoning out as you enter in file after file. You expect Peter to leave you to your devices, but he does just the opposite. He stays right where he is, eyes focused on you. Normally you don’t mind comfortable silences, they’re usually pretty peaceful, but this is anything but that.

At some point, it becomes harder to focus on the work before you. You become hyper aware of how his eyes burn through you, and can practically feel them watching your every move, raking up and down your body.

You chew on your lip in an attempt to ignore him and keep working. And if you just so happen to be pressing your thighs together, you can only hope that he doesn’t take notice.

Except he does.

“Something wrong sweetheart?” He asks, a teasing edge in his tone. You try to ignore him but he stands to face you, and you bite your lip even harder.

Finally, you look up at him, your eyes meeting his devilishly blue ones. He’s still got that stupid smirk on that stupidly handsome face with his stupidly perfect hair and-

Goddammit.

“Stop it.”

He raises an eyebrow, playing dumb, “Stop what?” He knows exactly what he’s doing.

You huff and shake your head, eyes rolling as you turn back towards the computer, “You know what.”

He hums, pausing for a moment before he leans down, lips inches from your ear, “Why?” He whispers, and dear god you’re about to collapse in this god forsaken desk chair, “Does it make you nervous when I stare?”

Your breath hitches, and your eyes pinch shut. You can’t help but dig your fingernails into your palms in an effort to ground yourself. If only you could get it together, because this really isn’t the best time or place for this to be happening to you. You find yourself rubbing your thighs together again, not even caring if he notices this time.

You try to say his name in an attempt to be firm with him, to warn him to stop.

“Peter…”

You fucking whimper it.

He wastes no time, spinning the desk chair so you’re facing him. He places his hands on both armrests as he leans over you, effectively trapping you in.

“Oh sweetheart…” He cooes at you, head tilting in mock sympathy, and you can feel your resolve slipping away, “Why don’t we take a little break hm?”

You turn your head back towards the computer for a moment, that tiny little part of you fighting so hard to stay focused, “I…I don’t-”

He gently grips your chin, tilting your head back to face him, and god, if you aren’t the prettiest thing he’s ever laid eyes on. Your pupils are so unbelievably dilated, your cheeks are flushed a deep shade of red, and your bottom lip is plump from your consistent biting.

With the way your hair messily falls into your face and your chest heaves with stuttered breaths, he wants nothing more than to spread you out on a table, and have his way with you until you’re a trembling mess beneath him. He trails his hand up slightly to cup your cheek, thumb gently stroking over your brow bone.

“I bet that brain of yours is so tired isn’t it? All those thoughts running through your head- they’re just too much for you to handle aren’t they?”

Your legs are trembling and your head is spinning. The way he’s speaking is so new to you, but it has you ready to drop to your knees in front of him. He’s not too far off either; you’re so tired and your brain hurts. You need a break. You need-

“You need someone to make them all go away don’t you?”

Jesus fucking Christ.

You inhale sharply, his words going straight to your core. Your mouth opens and closes as you try to pry a response from your muddled thoughts, slightly resembling a fish out of water. You give up eventually, opting to let out a desperate whine instead. You can’t decide what’s more distracting- the ache between your legs or the way his hand cradles your face.

His thumb moves to trace over your bottom lip, while a mocking pout settles on his own, “Poor thing, so tired and dumb that she can’t even form a proper sentence.”

He’s right, he’s so unbelievably right. Which is why you don’t even realize that you’ve wrapped your lips around his thumb and are gently sucking on it. His eyes are filled with pure hunger as he watches you with parted lips of his own.

He gently pulls his thumb out from between your lips, not even giving you a chance to whine before replacing it with both his middle and pointer finger. You continue to look up at him, mindlessly sucking on both digits and letting yourself feel utterly blissful.

“That’s it,” he praises, “suck on my fingers baby.”

You hum in response, closing your eyes as you circle your tongue around them, hollowing out your cheeks. He lets you have your fun for another moment or two, mesmerized by the way you’ve become an absolute mess for him, before slipping his fingers out from your mouth and admiring how the drool slips down your chin.

You whine pathetically as he does so, and he cooes in response, “Shhh, c’mon pretty girl.” He takes your hand, helping you stand from your chair and guiding you over to one of the nursing cots. As he sets you down, he tries to pull away for a moment, but you don’t let him. You grip the front of his crisp white shirt between your fingers and pull him towards you, clashing your lips against his.

He huffs out a laugh against your lips, mumbling, “greedy little thing,” in between kisses. And he’s right, you are greedy, and aching, and desperate to feel him, and only him. You’re entire body is filled to the brim with nothing but desire.

Peter climbs onto the cot, hovering over you as his lips slowly make their way down your jawline, your neck, and your chest. He leaves nothing but endless hickeys in his wake as you come completely undone beneath him. He fumbles with the buttons of your shirt and the clasp of your bra, prying them both off of you, one after the other.

If you had been told five hours ago that you would be here by the end of the night, you would’ve laughed and slammed the door in that person’s face. But yet, here you are, brainless, desperate, and completely at the mercy of Peter, while his lips explore every visible inch of skin on your body.

He practically drools as the sight of your breasts, fondling them in his hands. You can’t help but moan when he attaches his lips to one of your nipples, suckling on it gently while he pinches the other one. He switches back and forth, both for his and your own pleasure. His eyes flick up to your face, watching you writhe in desperation underneath him. His cock is so painfully hard in his pants, but that’s the least of his worries right now, only wanting to hear your pretty little moans as he makes you feel good.

“That’s it darling. Don’t think, just feel. I’ll make it all feel better.”

His lips continue their attack on your skin, making their way down your tummy and to the hem of your skirt. He gently pushes your legs up, and his hands are quick to slide the bottom of the skirt up to your waist, revealing your baby pink panties.

“Oh baby…” He moans at the sight, watching as your hole pulses and flutters underneath the soaked, translucent fabric. His eyes flick up to your face once more, seeing just how fucked out you look, without him even touching you yet, “Look at how messy you are.”

He’s honestly half a second away from devouring your perfect little cunt before your sweet voice fills his ears, pausing his movements entirely.

“P-Peter…” you stutter, nervously. It might be the only word you can physically form right now, but that isn’t stopping you from expressing concern.

You aren’t a virgin, but this type of situation is new to you. Your mind has never been so clouded. It’s not that it doesn’t feel good, because, god does it feel good, you just haven’t experienced such vulnerability before. So you can’t help the way your hands tremble while his face is inches from your exposed pussy.

It takes no more than two seconds for his hand to reach up and grasp yours, squeezing reassuringly, “I got you. I’m right here.” he soothes, and you release a slow breath. He never fails to calm your nerves.

“That’s it,” he smiles, feeling your hand slowly stop trembling in his grasp, “Just relax for me sweet girl, I’ll make you feel good.” You squeeze his hand in return and he can’t help but place a gentle kiss to your inner thigh,

“If you want me to stop at any point, I will. Just say the word. Do you understand?” You nod dumbly in response, only to yelp as his other hand comes down hard against your cunt, spanking it.

“I need you to use your words for this one darling,” he chides, cupping his hand over your drooling cunt in an effort to soothe the pain, “C’mon, you can do it.”

It takes you longer that you care to admit, and you struggle for a moment or two, desperately trying to form enough words in your head for a valid response. Your chest heaves as another pathetic whimper escapes your lips, prompting another slap to your core.

Your whole body jerks this time, forcing out a desperate cry of, “Y-Yes s-sir!”

And if he wasn’t salivating at the mouth before, he certainly is now. He moans in response, thumb circling your clit over your panties, before sliding them to the side.

“Good fucking girl.”

He leans in and places a sweet kiss to your cunt, as if apologizing for striking it. You shudder at that first contact. It sends a shock through you, hyper sensitive with want. He takes your clit between his lips and sucks very gently. Your head is thrown back immediately as he provides you the relief you’ve been needing.

“O-oh Peter…”

His tongue laps at your clit before flicking it through your folds, and looking up at you through his lashes. He loves how you’re reacting as he borderline makes out with your soaked cunt. Your moans fill the air as you take what he gives you, and Peter can’t be more grateful that the nursing rooms are sound proof, your pretty little noises being for his ears only. He dips his tongue down to your weepy hole, circling it around the entrance to taste you.

“So wet for me,” he mumbles against you. You whimper, hole fluttering at how good he’s making you feel, “You taste like heaven.”

He pulls back to lightly blow on your cunt, his saliva cooling in the air. He chuckles as he watches you twitch, licking another strip over your clit and blowing on it again. You whine and shift underneath him, your hips involuntary bucking. He smirks, shushing you gently, before dipping back in to taste you.

Your back arches off of the bed while he sucks and laps at you, upper body rising and falling violently on the bed. It’s almost like he’s been starved for weeks, and your cunt is the only thing that can satiate his hunger. He savors every taste of you, like he’s never eaten anything more luscious.

You hardly even notice when he pauses to remove your panties entirely, slipping them up your legs and placing them in his back pocket.

His tongue dips inside of you while he circles your nub with his thumb. Your hips buck to meet his face and you can’t help but grind into his tongue, feeling the coil in your lower stomach beginning to tighten. Your desperate little moans and gasps fill the room as his tongue plunges inside you. Your paperwork is long forgotten at this point as your thoughts empty out of your head, being replaced with just…

Peter

A small part of you registers the fact that he’s still holding your hand as he eats you out. He’s bringing you to new heights of pleasure, reducing you to nothing but a sobbing thing beneath him, all while holding your hand to let you know your safe. To let you know he’s taking care of you.

That thought alone has your toes curling, and another pathetic cry leaves your lips.

He can tell you’re getting close, based on the intensity of your moans and the way your muscles begin to pulse. He maneuvers so his mouth is back to suckling on your clit, and one of his fingers is circling your entrance. He eyes you above him, watching your mouth part in utter ecstasy as he slides his middle finger inside of you.

You’re far gone – so far gone.

He hardly gets a chance to relish in how tight your perfect little hole is before you’re pushed over the edge, completely coming undone around him.

Choked out moans and pants fill the air, and you cum so hard around his finger it makes you lurch forward, entire body shaking. "Shh, shh,” he hushes you, "There you go. Good girl.”

He pumps his finger in and out of you, working you through your orgasm. Your body collapses back against the bed as you attempt to catch your breath, but Peter has other plans. He releases his grip on your hand, wasting no time attaching his lips to your clit once again, sucking on it with much more intensity this time.

A surprised whine escapes your lips and your back arches, legs trying to close around his head. You’re too sensitive, but he doesn’t care, arm moving to rest across your hips, holding your thighs apart to keep your legs opened, your cunt bared.

“A-Ah!” You cry out, unable to stop the way your legs are trembling. Your hands quickly find their way into his hair, needing something to desperately cling to. His finger continues to pump in and out of you as he devours your poor little cunt. Tears prick at your eyes from how fucking good it feels.

He teases a second finger at the entrance of your leaking hole, before easily plunging it in beside the first one. The stretch feels amazing, and it’s the first thing you’re able to actually vocalize since before he even started eating your cunt.

“God, fuck- feels so good- feels so fucking good Peter…need more.”

He hums around your clit, the vibrations shooting throughout your whole cunt, and your eyes roll back into your head. You can feel him teasing a third finger against your hole and you grind down into it, needing to feel more of him. He obliges, thrusting it into you along with his other two fingers, stretching you out deliciously around them.

Slowly, the sensitivity of it all begins to burn away as your next orgasm approaches once more. It builds up much quicker than before with the way his fingers fuck you open, bringing you right to the edge.

“Oh- oh fuck I-I’m gonna cum…”

You can’t help but look down at him, watching as he licks and sucks on your clit, moaning into you to let you know just how much he’s enjoying it. He eyes look up to meet yours and god he looks so good like this, hair tousled, eyes wild with desire, and his mouth coated in your slick as he suckles on your clit.

The coil within your stomach snaps as you look at him, and you’re pushed over the edge once again. Your grind your pussy down into him as you ride out the high once more, letting him work you through it.

Your slick drips down his hand as your hole clenches around him, and he pulls away from you, placing gentle kisses up and down your trembling inner thighs as you come back down.

You pant, sweat dripping down your forehead as you lay back, feeling completely blissful and floaty. Peter’s definitely done a good job at emptying your head of any and all thoughts that weren’t of him, because you’re so unbelievably fucked out.

“Your thighs are shaking so much.” His voice echoes through your head, as he runs his free hand over them, feeling them tremble from even the slightest touch.

He gives you a few more seconds to rest before a dark chuckles escapes him, and he curls his fingers inside of you deliciously. A strangled gasp fills the air and your whole body twitches when he leans back down, licking a strip from just above your hole, up to your clit. You struggle to form words of protest, already feeling twice as sensitive as last time.

“N-no! Can’t Peter- I can’t!” You sob, tears finally breaking free and rolling down your cheeks.

He lays his head to the side, resting it on your inner thigh. He pulls his fingers out for a moment, using one of them to rim your hole as he looks up at you in mock sympathy.

“Ohhh but I think you can. I think this sweet little pussy of yours can give me one more yeah?” He teases, and you shake your head, squirming, “So that’s what you’re going to give me.” He dives back in, mercilessly attacking your overstimulated cunt.

Thrashing would be the best word to define you right now, hands leaving his hair and finding anchors on the sweat-soaked sheets of the cot beneath you. Your head turns into the nearest pillows in an effort to not sound like you’re being murdered, mascara running and wisps of hair flying and soft laughs that go through your entire soul as Peter watches your struggle. As he enables it.

He returns to those sloppy kisses that let him get a taste of you. Your muscles clench and your hips lift off the bed entirely as his tongue works you out. His lips on your clit and his dispersed praises and those rough licks on your cunt like you’re laid out before him like a meal, which honestly isn’t too far off.

You can’t stop shifting, not with the pain that bubbles in your stomach from your third building orgasm. It’s intense. It’s sensitive. It hurts. You tear at the sheets, then back to his hair, blubbering like an absolute child about it. Your third orgasm approaches so quickly that it’s painful. You’re a sobbing, wild, mess beneath Peter, and he’s absolutely relishing in it.

“P-Peter…” you sob weakly, his name once again being the only word you can piece together in your fucked out little brain. It hurts so bad but it feels so good at the same time, and your senses feel like they’re dialed to 11.

“Shhh,” he places a gentle kiss right above your clit, gently stroking your thigh with the thumb of his free hand, offering you a slight reprieve, “C’mon, you can do it.”

All of a sudden his fingers are pumping into you at an impossibly intense rate, and he’s licking and sucking on your cunt like his life depends on it. Your head is thrown back, and your eyes roll into your head as he walks no, —drags—your orgasm from you with determined fists, leaving nothing in his wake.

You’re seeing hallucinations. You have to be. Colors flying across a canvas of pure white, neon dots and black floaters that have you convinced you may have died and come back to life. Your body- your muscles and sinew and bones and soul shake with the fervor of it. Convulse, really.

Peter sighs as he rises, almost like he’s just had the most refreshing glass of water after hours exercise, yet you feel like the exerted one, twitching from aftershocks and tremors. He slips his fingers from your hole, licking them clean as he admires the aftermath of his attack on your poor cunt.

You’re red, swollen, pulsing, and slickened with sweat and cum and spit. It’s a little beautiful, the way your cum is leaking out of your entrance and onto the sheets. He dips down once more, swiping his tongue against your hole for one final taste of you, and your whole body convulses, a desperate sob ripping from your lips.

“Shhh sweetheart,” he shushes, “No more, I promise. You did so good for me.”

You can hardly even hear him, your mind a thousand miles away. You feel like you’re floating on cloud nine, and your whole body is tingling. Peter climbs up the cot until he’s laying on his side above you, stroking the sweaty hair from your face. You hum in content as his sweet words and praises begin to flood into your ears, bringing you back to the present.

“There she is,” he places a kiss to your hair line, thumb stroking your jaw, “Feeling okay?” You nod still feeling floaty.

“Feels good…” You hum, and he chuckles.

“I’d hope so. It wasn’t too much for you was it?” You shake your head, easing his concern slightly. You pry your eyes open to meet his, smiling at him.

“No. It was perfect Peter, thank you…” you lean up to kiss him again, and he returns it, hand gently cradling your face. The two of you lay back down in the bed, and you rest your head on his chest. His arms find their way around you as he lets you calm down in his arms, the trembling of your body not having fully stopped yet.

It isn’t until you’re half asleep that you remember the paperwork, shooting up and scaring the hell out of Peter. The idea of doing it all, now that you’re even more exhausted, brings you to tears again. But this time, not so happy ones.

“Hey, hey don’t worry about it.” Peter’s arms wrap around your waist, cradling you from behind, “You don’t have to finish the paperwork sweetheart.”

You hiccup, shaking your head, “But Brenner’s gonna be pissed if I don’t and there’s nobody else to get it done because Miranda wanted to go out and get drunk and-”

“Listen to me,” his lips rest up against the shell of your ear, speaking to you like he would the children when they’re scared or upset. He knows that your hypersensitive and floaty state of mind is only adding on to your levels of stress, “Don’t worry your pretty little head about the paperwork. I’m going to get you all cleaned up okay? And I’ll talk with Brenner in the morning, come up with something.”

You turn to look at him, all doe eyed and puzzled, “How do you know he’ll listen to you?”

Peter smiles in return as if he knows something that you don’t, and wipes the tears away before placing a chaste kiss to your cheek, “He always does…I think I’m his favorite,” you roll your eyes, letting the comment go over your head as you grumble about wishing you were the favorite employee. A smirk takes over his face at your blatant naivety.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it baby, now c’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.” And you oblige, letting him take care of you. He manages find some rags, wetting them and wiping the sweat and tears from your face. He uses another to clean the mess between your legs, gently shushing you when you whine in discomfort. He helps you back into your clothes, aside from your ruined panties, before you both curl up in one of the unused cots for the night.

And the next morning, if any of the other orderlies notice him holding your hand on your way out of your office, well, they don’t say a word.

———

Requested by: @hbaramas

2K notes · View notes

volpe-kitsune-red · 4 days

Text

A taste of you～(Part 2)

Part 1

Lynx Andromeda (Yandere OC) x reader

TW. general yandere behavior, possessive behavior, vampires, blood-drinking, kidnapping, manipulative behaviour

"Finally! I was starting to worry that I might have gone too far...haha"

You barely understood what the voice had said, your ears were ringing, and when you tried opening your eyes, it looked like everything around you was spinning. Hesitantly, you raised your hands to confirm your head was still there by how light it felt. "How are you feeling, love?" This time the voice felt clearer, it was low, sweet, and feminine. Your vision stopped spinning as much and you finally managed to make out the figure sitting next to you...it was Lynx, and you were in her room, in her bed. It would have been embarrassing and panic-inducing if it was anyone else's bedroom you had woken up in. However, you guys had regularly watched tons of movies, played games, and talked about life cozied together up on that bed, mostly when you were younger and had far more free time on your hands. The only thing bothering you was that you couldn't recall how you got there; you were at that party, then you were talking to that woman, and then...

"Here love, drink this, it will make you feel better." Lynx grabbed a glass filled with some red liquid and held it out for you to take. "Lynx, no offense dear, but how is wine supposed to help me recover from a hangover?" She giggled in response. "You really think I'm that stupid? I might have failed my chemistry exam last year, but that was just one time!" She said, faking a frown. "Ok then, enlighten me, what is it?" "It's obviously watermelon juice." You raised an eyebrow, couldn't she have just given you water instead? You knew she had an obsession with that drink, she brought a bottle of it to school every single day since you had known her; for some reason she never let you take even a little sip when you asked to try it. Too nauseous to question her choice any more than that, you took the glass from her hands and carefully brought it to your lips. "Oh, what the fuck, it tastes nothing like watermelon" "I forgot to mention I added some ibuprofen, I figured you would need it." You weren't too convinced, it wasn't just the taste, the consistency didn't add up. A part of you was telling you that something was wrong, making you nervous. Either way, despite your skepticism, you kept feeling a deep desire, a primal craving for that drink since you first smelled it. So you chugged it down, licking your lips afterward. You almost instantly regained your focus, nothing hurt anymore. Actually, you could distinctly tell apart the chirping of the birds flying outside, their wings flapping, and their hearts pumping blood through their bodies. Blood... why were you so fixated on that now?

Then memories hit you like a ton of bricks. Lynx dragging you away, kissing you, and... biting your neck?? Instinctively, your hand shot to where you recalled the sharp pain you felt last night originated, and there it was. Under your fingers, two small holes were present, they hadn't closed, and yet no blood was seeping out despite how deep into your flesh her teeth had dug into you. Her teeth, her long, needle-like sharp teeth. You looked at your best friend in horror and were met with an apologetic expression, which you didn't take too well. "You have been a fucking vampire this whole time and you never told me bitch??" She wasn't too shocked by your reaction. "Excuse me if I didn't want to scare you away, also I promised my father to never tell a human my secret so-" "But we have known each other for our entire lives! You know you can trust me with anything, you could have told me-" "I tried to drop hints but your dumbass somehow ignored all of them! Nobody fucking likes watermelon juice!" You stopped yourself from throwing a few insults at her and continuing the screaming match that would have lasted forever otherwise, knowing your best friend's temper. After taking a big, long breath, you speak again. "Ok ok, whatever, we'll talk about this later. Now to my next issue...what the hell was that? You kissed me, but also bit and sucked all my blood out right after that. You are kind of bipolar but this is too much hypocrisy even for you."

She avoided looking you in the eyes, seemingly embarrassed. "Yeah, about that. I was actually pretty drunk and I wasn't able to think straight...that horribly worsened after I saw you with her." The irritation in her voice when she mentioned the woman at the bar was difficult to ignore. "That wasn't something I had planned to happen this soon. I had a whole ceremony in mind for the day I would have finally turned you into a vampire: a creepy abandoned church, the moon high in the sky, a camera recording the moment so I could watch it later, our servants playing the violin in the background for a solemn atmospheric feel... all that just went out of the window because of a stupid party night." Her cheery voice and dreamy eyes, as she spoke about the ceremony, dipped back down and lost their spark at the last sentence. "Huh, wait. Does that mean I'm a vampire now?? Why didn't you tell me that from the start!" She stared at you with a deadpanned, slightly concerned face. "Darling, sweety, love of my life, I assumed you had already figured that out. I find your human stupidity cute but this kind of concerns me."

Overall, she was glad you had taken the whole vampire thing well. She had prepared a whole speech to ease you into accepting the idea but it revealed itself unnecessary. Unfortunately, she did have some other news she knew you wouldn't appreciate. "So, how am I supposed to walk to school now? Do you have to wear special sunscreen every day or is the whole burning under the sun thing a myth?" Her reaction perplexed you, she looked very much amused by your question, but your now heightened senses helped you easily pick up on other things you were unaware of before such as the aura of malice surrounding her and...something else you couldn't make out. "Oh no no dear, you won't be going anywhere for quite a while. You see, I'm still unsure if I can trust you keeping shut about this, what if I lose sight of you again? You're such a precious thing, you could get hurt out here if you don't know how to navigate with your new body." It always creeped you out how she would so easily subtly switch her tone in the middle of a conversation, she went from sweet to threatening to lock you up in an instant. "But I still need to go to college, I have an exam next week and..." "Love, I don't think you fully understand the situation you are in. Do you know how the spread of the vampirism curse works?" You shook your head. "Since I was the one that turned you, you are under my control, I am basically your master. If I wanted I could turn you into one of my family's many servants, use you as a maid, and you wouldn't even get a say in the matter. You are bound to follow every command I give you from now on." The situation took a dark turn really fast, but you couldn't understand why, why was she talking to you like this? "But you would never do something like that to me...right? Lynx?"

"It all depends on the answer to my next question. Do you love me?" Well, that was easy, you thought.

Unfortunately for you, no matter what your answer was going to be, she didn't need to restrain herself anymore now that you had no way to run. Why would she let you roam around free when you could sit obediently in her lap, where no one would ever dare harm you? Why go to school and distract yourself with others when she was all you needed from now on? You didn't need a degree or a job, she was basically royalty amongst vampires, money was never going to be an issue. Of course, she wouldn't actually turn you into a maid, she had decided on a far better fate for you.

You were destined to be her spouse, you were going to be tied to her for the rest of your eternal lives. Refusal wasn't an option, a no wouldn't be accepted, you are her most prized possession and resistance is futile.

#yandere blog #yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere x you #tw yandere #yandere oc x reader #lynx oc #yandere vampire x reader #yandere female #yandere vampire #vampire x reader #vampire #vampire x human #vampire x vampire

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alfredosauce50 · 3 years

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Hi! I was wondering if you could do some Romano + Prussia x royal reader (separate) headcannons? I'm a sucker for a good forbidden romance and would be happy to see what you want to do with it. Thank you!

Yes, of course! Sorry for the kinda late response--I got carried away writing other things. What a coincidence that I've been doing a lot of exploring in fantasy! The reader is referred to as she/her.

Forbidden Romance Headcanons - Prussia and S. Italy

Prussia - The earnest pickpocket and sheltered princess

Unfortunately, Gilbert is on the wrong side of history. As an albino, he's been an outcast ever since he was born. In an age of superstition and class divide, his parents had no problem abandoning an extra mouth to feed. Especially when they were a demon with magical powers. Left to fend for himself as a baby, he only ever survived thanks to the generosity of an old neighbor. When they passed away due to old age, he had to get on by himself on the streets. Stealing, lying, whatever it takes to get some quick cash. And he's been doing it ever since he was five.

He loved fairytales ever since he was a kid. His guardian always told him these stories before bedtime, after all. They said it was good luck to give the princess a flower, and he remembered this a few years later during the royal parade in town. Pushing through the crowd of onlookers, he held out a small dandelion hoping you would take it. Before the guards could swat him away, you took the flower with a smile. All you remembered from that time was a small and dirty face gleaming up at you. And, of course, a pair of striking red eyes you would never forget.

In his adolescence, he became a thief with quick hands. It wasn't until he took on the most dangerous job of all did he make himself a public enemy. Stealing the royal family's jewels. And he would've gotten away with it if he wasn't forced to take a detour through the princess's bedroom. Unbeknownst to him, you were wide awake. Immediately, you recognized him as the little boy from that day. Without thinking, you hid him in your wardrobe until the guards left. That was the start of a strange friendship forged between two people from two worlds--a dirt-poor criminal and the well-loved princess of a thriving kingdom.

He visits you from time to time by climbing up the side of the castle. When he first did it, you practically throttled him by his collar, screaming, “Do you have a death wish? They'll throw you to the lions if you get caught!”. He simply responds with, “The awesome me never gets caught! That's why I'm here, ja?” Soon, this becomes routine until you learn to trust him.

Gilbert loves gloating about his adventures as a street rat, whether it's about singlehandedly beating up gangs of bullies or outrunning the palace guards. As a sheltered person of royalty, his stories reflect experiences alien to you. But it opens your eyes to things you've never seen, and it's very fascinating.

If he's not telling grossly exaggerated anecdotes of his greatness, he'll bring in board games and cards he “borrowed” from his friends. You've never played with them before as your parents deemed them unrefined. It fills him with pride to see you enjoying yourself so much, especially when he's teaching you how to play.

You don't go out very often, so he always brings back little trinkets and souvenirs. When you found out he stole them all, you would hit him on the head and tell him off. “Where did you get these from? Stealing and giving these to the princess--do you know how stupid that sounds?” Then, you would pinch his cheek until he tears up and admits his wrongs. “I-I thought you would like them, okay? I wanted to give them to you as a present...” The next day, you would accompany him to the shops he robbed and pay the owners back.

He gets upset and embarrassed when he realizes those gifts aren't gifts at all. Not when you paid for them yourself! One of the ways he shows affection is through giving gifts, but that unfortunately clashes with not having money. So he's eager to make something out of himself, even if he has to work as a bottom feeder and face unfair treatment for what he looks like. When you find out, his boss gets one hell of a time dealing with you. After that, he uses whatever small amount he earned to buy something for you.

As he grows out of his old habits, he becomes more honest. In fact, he's so determined to prove himself that he shows up one day with a homemade board game scribbled out on a spare piece of parchment. He's nervous and twiddling his fingers, and that's when you know you have to help him get back onto his feet. He's so touched by your kindness that he shows you a secret he's been hiding forever--he can do magic. It's one of his skills that let him become so good at stealing in the past.

After some practice to touch up his abilities, you try convincing your parents to let him work in the palace as an all-rounder. With the magic dancing in his fingertips, there's nothing he can't do. He has a green thumb, good reflexes, and the horses in the stables listen to him better than the caretaker! He can't forget that you encouraged him to let go of his doubts and previous identity as a petty thief. There's nobody in the world he looks up to more.

On the night of your eighteenth birthday, he's invited to a ball to celebrate. Once again, he finds himself anxious to see you in your dress, especially when he's quite glammed up himself with his suit and hair slicked back. While you teach him how to dance, he tells you he looks ridiculous. But you think otherwise and make it explicit. That's when Gilbert realizes he's completely smitten with you. He embarks on another journey to improve himself until he thinks he deserves you.

South Italy - The plebeian pâtissier and renegade royal

War has ravaged the kingdom and eaten into the state's reserves, leaving inflation rates at an all-time high. The suffering middle and working-class take it up to their rulers in a coup d'état, killing the king and queen. And now, they're searching for the princess amidst the chaos of an ungoverned dominion. Romano couldn't be more indifferent to such a cause, only ever caring about putting food on the table. He works day and night helping out his family's bakery, making what he can to get by. However, he's forced to take a side when he finds a girl on his doorstep on the verge of starvation.

Unable to turn away someone in need, he nurses you back to health. However, he does so with spite, wondering to himself why he has to give what little he has left to a princess. When you feel better after a few days, he's eager to send you off but changes his mind as you leave. Romano can't bear to let you face certain death, or worse, knowing how bitter the townspeople are about the unpopular war. So he welcomes you back with a sharp sigh with his head turned away. “Alright, alright, you can stay. Now stop making that pathetic face, you spoilt principessa--it's depressing.”

He relays a few house rules as conditions for keeping you around. You have to help him with chores. Cooking, cleaning, sewing, everything. Considering you always had someone doing those tasks for you, you're hopeless at it. He'll swat your hand and show you how to do things right with an annoyed scowl. “No, no, no, no, no! You're doing it all wrong. This is how you do it. What do they even teach you in that palace, huh? Books? Maths? Books about maths? Well, they won't keep you alive, you know!”

Because he's so observant and strict, he's a good teacher, and soon, you get the hang of everything. Before, he had to open his mouth to correct you every few seconds, but now, he can just watch you do his work with his arms crossed. It's a little demeaning to have someone watch your every move, but inside, he's relieved you're finally fitting in and not a complete waste of his time and resources. In reality, he never wanted to send you off and hoped he could just handle an extra mouth to feed. Not that he'll ever tell you.

When you're out and about, he makes you wear a cloak to hide your identity. When he's forced to interact with people, he'll hold you close and play everything off without arousing suspicion. Even if your hood falls off, he won't react--he's screaming inside in panic, but he's a great actor when he needs to be. You're totally not the princess, just a crazy similar doppelganger. The cloak is there so that people don't make a fuss. When they leave, he'll turn to you and scream how much of an idiot you are. But really, he was just worried to death--and you have a feeling he was. So you hug it out and leave him cussing with a red face.

As you two grow closer, his cousin Antonio notices how much he cares about you despite his efforts to hide it. It's a problem. He approaches him and warns that if people found out he was hiding the princess, he would get killed with her. Romano heats up and screams, telling him that he already knew what he got into the second he let you into his home. When he's asked why he's still keeping you around, he responds with, “It's not fair that her parents fucked up, and she has to face the consequences. Just like how I never wanted to run this stupid bakery--I wanted to be a painter, not burn my hands in the kitchen all day!”

Unbeknownst to him, you overhear the conversation. The next morning, he discovers that you're gone and loses his head. While he's screaming and crying, he's swarmed with the possibilities of what happened to you. He's a bit of an overthinker, but his paranoia is deserved--were you taken away in the middle of the night? Are you even still alive? He spirals down a path of self-loathing until he confronts how much he misses you, then his regret of never being frank with his feelings. Romano didn't understand what he had until he lost it. To say this was a wake-up call--to be more honest with himself--would be an understatement.

A week later, you return unscathed. Turns out, you left to stay with the owner of a paint shop owner your family always supported and bought from. You present him with a gift of some high-end oil paints, brushes, and canvases. When he sets them all down, he'll pull you into a tight hug, and once again, tell you how stupid you are. While he has you in his coils, you smile to yourself as you pat his hair, happy that you also got something in return. Some transparency. “I just thought I'd give you something... For all the trouble.” You'd say, and he'd shush you with a few hard kisses. “You were never a trouble. I wanted you to stay, so I'm more to blame than you.”

As the political situation of the country calms down, so do the anxieties of angry neighbors pounding on his door. You return to his home much to his content. Now that you're just as good as him at icing cakes, you spend more time running the bakery. This gives him some time to paint, and he can't be happier. Once you both get settled, he discovers another hobby on top of making art. Making coffee! The bakery evolves into a café lavishly decorated with his paintings, and it becomes the most popular establishment in town. You both realize how overrated it is to want to be anything more--you never bring up your title ever again.

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parkers-gal · 3 years

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Ooh ive got a request for ya how about some comfort Tom?? Maybe he notices shes feeling off and is just super quiet and finds out its cuz shes thinks shes not good enough and maybe work is too hard on her so everythings just a little too much so he just holds her and hugs her and says sweet nothings with comfort kisses 🥺

requests are open

wc: 1.2k

—

“What’s with the sad music, love?”

“This isn’t sad music.” You look up from your computer. Tom strides in. You’re sitting cross legged on the floor of your bedroom, back against the bed’s frame. He purses his lip at your answer, eyes darting down to the document that’s opened on your screen. He sighs quietly.

“Whatcha doing?” He’s asking even though he already knows the answer.

“Working.”

“Again?” You look up at him as if he’s being unreasonable. “I mean,” he clears his throat. “It’s a Friday.”

“It’s also a Friday before one of the busiest months of the year.” He hums. Your eyes don’t leave the screen. You know he’s a bit upset. He’s working, of course, but his work hours are much more flexible now that the pandemic has settled harshly over the globe. But you’re not an actor, though. You’re a middle-class worker, so work hours are rough and consistency is unstable.

He kisses the top of your head before leaving you alone again, knowing you’d probably want to be alone. He’s wrong, though, because once he leaves, you let out a shaky sigh and try to compose yourself. It’s hard, though.

This is the seventeenth day now, that you’ve overworked to the point of exhaustion. The seventeenth day of all nighters and coffee as your go-to medicine. You’re quite literally a walking machine with how many hours you’re up.

Maybe it’d be easier if asking for help didn’t make you so nervous, though. A few of the tasks you’re assigned are a bit out of your knowledge, but you take the extra hours learning how to do them. After all, work is work, and with predominant male colleagues, you don’t want to deal with sexism if it can be avoided. You’re a woman and that isn’t weak.

You’re not sure if your supervisor realizes the things he’s assigning you are things that were not required when you were hired for the job. You don’t mention anything, though, because everyone keeps telling you that you’re lucky you don’t have it worse.

It’s almost eleven o’clock by the time Tom comes to bed. He’d tried to get you to eat dinner, but you’d convinced him that you already ate while he was showering. You didn’t.

“Love, bedtime,” His voice is rasping, a sure sign he’s tired. You glance up wearily.

“Oh, sorry,” You stand quickly taking your supplies as you’re about to head downstairs to continue working.

“Y/N?” He stops you, his voice damp and soft. “Where are you going?”

“Well, you’re going to bed so I’ll just work downstairs so I won’t bother you.”

You see him visibly pout at how considerate you’re trying to be. He ends up shaking his head after a few beats. “Come to bed.”

You calculate the options in your head, weighing the pros and cons. He knows what you’re doing, so he keeps going.

“C’mon, tomorrow is Saturday.” You hum. You have all day tomorrow, though you’re certain that’s not why he brought up that detail.

You end up slipping under the sheets, into his embrace for all of the night. When Tom awakens, you’re gone, bedside cold and bitter. He sighs again. Slipping on an old grey shirt, he makes his way downstairs. He hears your voice booming through the room before he actually sees you.

“That’s not what the order said to do! You need to take the data and then-” You look at Tom while you listen to the other end of the phone. You sigh frustratedly. He realizes you looked overworked already and it’s barely ten o’clock.

He’s worried you might have woken up too early. When you hang up the phone, he greets you with a soft good morning. You don’t reply.

You’re absent for pretty much the entirety of the day. Tom has four days off this upcoming week, only working from Monday through Wednesday. He knows you have the same schedule this week, because you’d planned a little self-care week together. You show no signs of stopping, however.

For the first time in less than three weeks, you’re sleeping at a normal time. This time, though, you’re not cuddled into Tom’s side. He misses your embrace, and you long for his warmth, but you don’t make any move to come close. He doesn’t want to push you, but he wants to know the reasoning for the sudden absence.

By day three of this, he wakes up to the sight of you sobbing. You’d only woken up late, but it was enough to set you off on a series of reactions.

“Love? Love what’s wrong?” He’s scooting to where you’re sitting on the floor, sobbing with your knees to your chest. You merely shake your head, and his bare chest comes closer as he tries again. “C’mon, baby. Talk to me.”

You look up at him with tear-stained cheeks before colliding with his chest, gripping him tightly while you cry. He’s still holding onto the covers when you do so, and they fall to his legs as he grips you back.

He shushes you lightly, hand smoothing out your hair. “What happened?” He asks during the silence, after your cries have lessened and your tears have halted.

You sniffle. “They- they said things, Tommy.”

His jaw clenches. “What things?”

“They- they talked about you. About- About us.”

“What about us?” He’s being stern, eyebrows furrowed. You know he’s not messing around; it makes you shiver.

“They said I’m not- not a worker,” You stumble, trying to compose yourself again. “I’m just some gold-digger girlfriend who’s lucky to have a boyfriend like you.”

“Baby…” He trails off, scooting closer and pulling you back into his embrace protectively. He hates how people talk about you, his angel and light, his soft yet badass girlfriend. He hates the disrespect sent your way merely because you love him back.

“I just don’t feel good enough anymore.” You admit, a few tears falling at the confession. Tom’s heart drops to his stomach, falling to the pit and crumbling on the way down. Your voice sounds broken and shattered. His heart aches as he tears up too.

“You’re so good enough, baby.” He longs for you to realize what he’s known all along. “Nobody can tell you otherwise. You’re amazing and I just-” He breaks off as his voice cracks. “I really love you, y’know that?”

You don’t reply. A tear slips from his brown orbs.

“It’s just too much, now.”

“Work?” “Me.”

“No.” He knows where you’re going. He doesn’t want to hear it again. “No you’re not. You’re not a burden, I don’t want to hear you talk about my girlfriend like that.”

“I’m just saying,” You wipe a cheek. “I understand if I’m too much. Everyone at work thinks that-”

“You work in a shithole.” You giggle at his use of the word. “I’m always here for you, you know that?” You nod from within his chest. “You can come to me when things start getting bad again. You’re not a burden. I love you so much; it hurts to see you so upset, baby.”

You nod again. “I’m sorry.”

“Nonsense,” He pulls you up so he can look you in the face. “Don’t need to apologize. Just… take the week off with me?”

You let a smile creep onto your face and Tom cheers in success at the response.

#tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fanfic #tom holland blurb #tom holland imagine #tom holland oneshot #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluffy #tom holland

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sfb123 · 3 years

Text

The Final Goodbye - Chapter 4 (Finale)

Book: The Royal Romance, Book 2

Pairing: Liam x Riley

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Description: In a slight canon divergence from book 2, Riley reaches her breaking point with the engagement tour and decides to restart her life when the court gets to NYC. Can the rest of the group clear her name, and convince her to come back before it’s too late?

Catch Up Here

Rating: PG (I think there are a few swear words in there, very angsty, but otherwise pretty mild)

Word Count: 2,525 (sorry, this is like twice as long as the others, but it’s worth it, I promise!)

A/N: We’ve made it to the end of the story. I appreciate you all so much for indulging me in this. I guess, technically, this is my first completed series (I promise, I’ll get back to Sapere Aude and A Taste of Cordonia soon!), so that’s a pretty exciting milestone for me. I really hope that at the end of this, you consider it worth your time.

I gush way too much over her, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop, because I’m truly blessed that we stumbled upon each other, so shout out @jessiembruno for all of your help with this, and with everything. I may have in person friends I go for walks with, but you’re still at the top of my list.

Tags: Listed below. If you’d like to be added or removed, just let me know!

Maxwell, Drake, and Hana sat in silence on the couch in Riley’s hotel room, reflecting on the day’s events. Bertrand had told Maxwell that he found her, but nobody else had seen or heard from her since. They weren’t sure if she had seen Tariq’s statement, and were even less sure it would matter.

Hana broke the silence. “I can’t believe we did it.”

“I can’t believe Riley isn’t here. We should all be victory dancing right now.” Maxwell replied.

Drake patted Maxwell on the back. “She’ll be back, she has to be. There’s no way she went through all of this just to give up in the home stretch.”

There was a gentle knock at the door, all three of them jumped up in the hopes that it was Riley. Maxwell ran to answer it, revealing Liam on the other side. “Oh, Liam. Hey.” Maxwell stepped back, allowing Liam to enter.

Unable to contain his grin, Liam entered the room and approached the group. “I had a feeling you all would come here. I came to see you as soon as I could.” He looked around, noticing that Riley wasn’t with them he turned back to Maxwell and noticed his nervous expression. “Where is the woman of the hour? I wanted to personally offer my congratulations.” His face fell as he noticed his friends fidgeting, unable to make eye contact with him. Even without his years of training, he was easily able to read the tone of the room. He knew something was wrong.

“Liam...why don’t you sit down for a minute.” Drake placed a hand on his shoulder and attempted to guide him toward the couch. Liam shrugged him off.

“No thank you Drake, I came to see Riley. If she’s not here, just tell me where she is and I will go to her.”

“We ah...we don’t know.” Drake awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, unable to meet Liam’s gaze. “This morning, after you left, Maxwell and I came to check on her and she wasn’t here. It looks like she never came back to the hotel last night.”

Liam felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He took a moment to compose himself, looking around the room at the sad faces of his friends. “She...she’s gone?” His voice barely above a whisper as he took a seat, afraid his legs were going to give out. “But you found Tariq, it’s over. Her name has been cleared. We finally have our chance to…” He dropped his head, cradling it in his hands. Hana sat beside him and wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulders. Drake and Maxwell looked at each other. Nobody knew what the next move was.

Liam sat in silence, his mind reeling with countless thoughts. All of the things he should have said, should have done. From the coronation, where he should have called her name, despite everything; to the previous night when he should have run after her the second she stepped off that stage. Maybe if he had gotten to her, he could have convinced her to stay just a little longer. He was so focused on retracing his mistakes over the last several weeks, that he did not hear the sound of a throat clearing at the door. It did get the attention of everyone else in the room, however. Their heads all snapped over to see Riley leaning against the doorframe, an awkward smile spread across her face. “Hey guys, what did I miss?”

The sound of her voice broke him from his thoughts. He looked up, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. Watching as she addressed the room, he took note that she was not meeting his eyes. He was preparing himself for the heartbreak that was about to come. She was only here to get her things, he was sure of it.

“Riley! You came back!” Maxwell ran to her full speed, pulling her into a hug so aggressive that her feet lifted off the ground. Once she was standing again, he pulled away and took her hand, rushing her toward the group. “What happened? We were afraid you were gone forever.”

There was an apprehension in Riley’s face that they hadn’t seen since the early days of the social season as her eyes scanned the room. She was trying to collect her thoughts and explain herself without letting it all explode out of her at once. As her eyes traveled in Liam’s direction, she moved her attention to the floor. She was sure he was upset with her, and if she saw any kind of sadness or disappointment in his face, she knew she would completely lose it. She focused her attention back on Maxwell, “You thought I was gone, and you still went through all of that trouble to go get Tariq and get him to make a statement?”

“Of course we did. You’re our friend, and we promised to help you.” Maxwell replied.

Riley took a shaky breath, trying to keep a handle on all of the emotions rushing through her at that moment. “I gave up on myself, and you guys kept fighting. I don’t think I will ever be able to thank you for that.”

She approached her friends individually, hugging them and speaking softly to each. Liam’s heart raced as he watched her move closer and closer to him, afraid for what that moment would bring. As Riley and Hana separated, Liam stood from his spot on the couch, taking a deep breath, preparing himself for what was about to come. For the first time since she had arrived, Riley and Liam locked eyes.

“Hi.” It was barely audible, but it was all Riley was able to choke out at that moment.

“Hello Riley.”

Tension filled the room as Liam and Riley stared into each other's eyes, each afraid to start the conversation. Drake, Maxwell, and Hana looked at eachother. “Alright, we’re going to take off. Brooks, good to have you back. We’ll see you in the morning.”

Drake and Hana walked toward the door, while Maxwell approached Riley. “Celebratory field trip to Coney Island tomorrow, Little Blossom. It’s going to be great!”

“MAXWELL!” He jumped at the sound of Drake’s voice, and rushed out of the room. Shutting the door behind him.

Liam decided to make the first move, he motioned toward the couch, “Would you like to sit?” Riley nodded and sat on the couch, turning her body so she was facing Liam, he did the same. “So...you left.” Riley nodded again, still struggling to speak. Liam needed to get the question out there, if this was going to be it, he needed to know now. “Do you...does that mean...have you changed your mind? About us?”

Riley’s eyes went wide, she wasn’t sure what to expect when they spoke, but she was not prepared to hear Liam question her love for him. “Liam, no! This wasn’t about us, about you even. It was about me.”

He reached for her hands as he took a brief sigh of relief. “Then talk to me Riley, what happened? Why did you leave?”

“It was just becoming too much, we were at that UN thing last night, another night where I had to watch her on your arm. She had sent me earlier in the day to pick up her wedding ring. I guess that was kind of like a reality check for me, that the wedding was coming. Time was running out. You’re supposed to be getting married in less than a week. Finding Tariq was starting to feel impossible. I was going to have to go back to Cordonia and watch you marry her. I know I told you that I would want to be in your life regardless, but as we got closer to a reality where I was going to have to live as your secret, I realized that I couldn’t do it. I can’t live my life like that, in a country where I have been ostracized, just to have little glimpses of a life with you. I love you more than anything, but I couldn’t live the rest of my life like that. I figured, since we’re already in New York, it would be easier to just break away now and try to restart.”

“Why didn’t you talk to me? Tell me you were feeling this way, we could have talked through it together. You just disappeared.” He brought a hand to her cheek, brushing away the tears that had fallen as she was speaking.

“I couldn’t tell you, I wouldn’t have been able to follow through with it if I did. You would have looked at me with those eyes, and said all those beautiful words that make me all mushy inside and I would have agreed to anything you said.”

The tears Liam had been trying to hold back slowly began to break free with her confession. He never wanted her to feel forced into anything, especially not by him. This whole thing had been his fault. She didn’t feel like she could be open with him, or she felt like when she was, he would railroad her into choosing his wants and needs above her own. That was never the life he wanted for either of them. “Riley, I am so sorry. The last thing I ever want is for you to feel like you can’t talk to me. I know that it has been...difficult for us to find moments to truly connect, but I had hoped that in those moments, we were being the best versions of ourselves. I had no idea I was so far off.”

“Liam, remember during the social season, all of the times where we would sneak away, or you’d spend an extra couple of minutes with me? You would always tell me how you were being unfair to the other suitors, and you were breaking the rules.” He nodded, a small smile playing across his face at the memories of their time together. “Your feelings for me were making you do things that you never would have done before. That’s what this engagement tour has been for me. I made a promise to myself a long time ago that I would never be ‘the other woman’, I would never come in between someone else’s relationship…”

“But you were never…”

She put a hand up to stop him from finishing his sentence. “...I was never the other woman, because your heart belongs to me. I know, that was your way of rationalizing it, and I love you so much that I started seeing it that way too. I would make excuses, that it was only temporary until we found Tariq, that Madeline had told you it would be ok. And I know she did, but I shouldn't have been ok with it. I compromised who I was, who I have been my whole life, because of my feelings for you. That’s not ok.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “Liam, I want to be with you, more than anything, but not if you’re married to someone else. I deserve to be the only woman in your life, and on your arm, for show or otherwise. If you can’t give me that, I need to walk away.”

“Riley, my feelings for you have never changed, nor have my intentions. Now that the scandal is behind you, we can look forward to a future together, just the two of us. There are a few arrangements that need to be made, some conversations that I will need to have, but I need you to understand that everything is going to change from here. Our moment is right around the corner, if you can just stick with me a little longer.”

There was a rawness and vulnerability in his eyes that caused Riley to completely break down. As she began sobbing, Liam pulled her to her chest, his own tears falling freely. They sat there for several moments, purging the emotions they had been working so hard to hold back.

When they pulled away, Liam held Riley’s face in his hands staring deeply, desperately into her eyes. “Please Riley, just bear with me until the court leaves New York. If you are not satisfied with where things stand at that time, I will completely understand and support your decision to stay here.”

Riley blinked away the last of her tears as she considered Liam’s proposition. She slowly nodded her head, which was still being cradled in Liam’s hands. “Ok.”

He could barely hear the words escape her lips, but it was all he needed. Liam kissed the tear stains on each of her cheeks before placing a tender, lingering kiss on her lips. “I love you Riley, I love you so much. I promise, we’re going to get our forever.”

Riley wrapped her arms around Liam’s neck and pulled him into a tight embrace. He brought his arms around her, gently rubbing her back. “I love you too, Liam.” They sat in each other's arms, each comforting the other without saying a word.

“I should head to my room and try to get some sleep.” Liam broke the silence, standing and extending his hand to Riley. “Walk me to the door?”

She nodded, taking his hand and standing, leading him to the door. “You could stay here if you wanted.” She looked at him coyly.

“Riley my love, there is nothing I want more right now, but I can’t do that to you.” He brought her hand to his lips. “You’re right, you deserve to be the only woman in my life, and I am still technically engaged to Madeleine. I heard everything you said, and if anything more we’re to happen tonight, it wouldn’t be fair to you. To either of us. Just know that you will be the only thing on my mind until we are together again.” He leaned down, kissing her deeply, as he wrapped his free hand around her waist.

“Will you at least come with us to Coney Island tomorrow?” She asked hopefully.

“Only if you promise to ride with me on the Ferris wheel.”

She smiled, and Liam felt his heart skip a beat at the sight. It was at that moment that he knew they were going to be ok. “I think that can be arranged.”

He pulled her close for one last lingering hug. “Then I will be counting down the seconds.” He pulled away, kissing her on the cheek. “Goodnight, Riley.”

“Goodnight Liam.”

They shared a final smile before Liam exited the room, shutting the door behind him. Riley changed into her pajamas and got into bed. That night, she slept better than she had during the entire tour. She knew there was still a lot that needed to be figured out, and that it would likely be an uphill battle, but she was one step closer to walking up that hill hand in hand with Liam, and that’s all she had ever wanted in the first place.

Permatag:

@anjanettexcordonia @athena-penrose @bbrandy2002 @chemist-ana @choicesficwriterscreations @choiceskatie @cordonia-gothqueen @cordoniaqueensworld @emkay512 @gabesmommie1130 @gkittylove99 @hopelessromanticmonie @iaminlovewithtrr @jessiembruno @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @kingliam2019 @lucy-268 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @mile9213 @mom2000aggie @pixie88 @queenrileyrose @secretaryunpaid @sweatyrysconnoisseur @tessa-liam @theroyalheirshadowhunter @twinkleallnight @txemrn

The Final Goodbye:

@ao719 @burnsoslow @busywoman @itsjustwinter @ladyangel70 @mainstreetreader @shanzay44

Liam x Riley:

@jared2612

Liam:

@amandablink

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zevlors-tail · 3 years

Note

Okay but hear me out

Dad villain Izuku.

( I mean dadzuku for the won but still!)

Like, him having his precious little boy/girl?

Fierce protective dad?

Huh...kinda sounds like the start of a Mob AU.

Idk i just like dad izuku so I thought you might too!

You have just opened a can of worms you cannot close!!! Haha but really, here's some pregnancy/baby headcanons because a lot of people tend to enjoy that. Not really my cup of tea, but I'll make an exception here. To your credit, you've got me really thinking on this. 😳

“Not really my cup of tea”, I say, as I make the world’s longest headcanons about Vil!Deku being a dad.

TW: Pregnancy, children, cursing. :)

Dad Villain!Deku HC's

-Look, Vil!Deku is already possessive as fuck. The second he finds out you're pregnant? He will literally be attached to you at the hip. Can't go anywhere without this man. Can you say coddling?

-He's so thrilled and nervous at the same time. Not about being a bad parent or anything, more about you or your child getting injured, threatened, or put in danger.

-It started with some symptoms that looked like the run of the mill flu. You probably got pretty bad morning sickness, and he fussed over you the whole time; held your hair back for you, rubbed your back, made you tea, the whole nine yards.

-Both of you just thought it was a stomach bug. But you just kept getting sick, and Deku actually took some time off work to stay with you and make sure you were okay (what a gentleman).

-After a week of being sick, this man is so concerned about you and your health that he calls a doctor to your place to take a look at you. God help that poor doctor because if he even looks at you the wrong way, Deku will obliterate him.

-Doctor asks if you could be pregnant, and both of you just kind of go quiet.

-Deku had thought of that possibility but refused to acknowledge it because something that good? Happening to an outcast like him? A criminal? To someone who was never worthy enough to be a hero? No. Way.

-But it did! You can probably see Deku's eyes visibly sparkle when the doc asks that question. The doctor leaves with the theory that you're pregnant and tells you to take a test.

-Congratulations! You're both going to be parents!

-Everything is so different after that. Deku has always been soft on you because you're his Sweet, but he's extra soft and caring now. Also extremely protective and possessive?

-"It's just the grocery store. I can do it myself, it's alright!" You're out of groceries? He's going with you. You can't argue it. "I'll go with you." "What if someone recognizes you?" "They won't say a word about it. I’ll make sure of it." You know what that means...

-Pregnancy cravings are wild, but he's miraculously got it covered. Never forgets a single craving you've had. Always has your favorite foods on hand, including the odd ones. Pickles? There's three whole jars in the fridge. Certain flavor of chips? Always a bag in the pantry. And if there's ever an instance where you crave something he doesn't have on hand, he makes his lackeys go get it while he stays at home with you. But if he absolutely had to, he would get it himself.

-Nobody is allowed to touch you, especially not now that you're carrying his child. If anyone so much as breathes too close to you, they're toast.

-Keeps tabs on you 24/7. Has to know where you're at and that you're okay or he's worrying 25/8.

-Somehow he's even more crazy about you? Just the fact that you're pregnant with his child is enough to stir him up any day, any time. You've definitely caught him staring at your stomach obsessively several times.

-Takes THEE best care of you. You are your child's lifeline and the love of his life, so you have to stay healthy and happy. Once again...can you say coddling? Makes sure you've eaten throughout the day, brings you water, makes you rest, runs you hot baths, generally just keeps an eye on you to make sure you're okay. Oh, and if you're working? Say goodbye to that job for now. No way you're doing anything strenuous while he can help it.

-If you for some reason insist on keeping the 9-5 job and you manage to convince him otherwise, he visits you on your lunch break whenever he can and hacks into the security cameras way too often for his own good. Literally will be in the middle of a meeting watching live feed from your store.

-Whenever the kid is due, he’s gonna have a bit of a rough time during the whole process. It’s hard for him, because he doesn’t trust the doctors and nurses at the hospital to give you top notch care when he’s not there, and he can’t really take you there anyways because of his villain status (do you think maybe villains have hospitals and resources for each other?? That would be kind of cool...). He ends up pulling some strings with a fellow vigilante/former villain connection who works in the hospital, and they work out some sort of undercover deal probably?

-Don’t question, just accept. He’s got it all covered. He gets to stay with you through everything and he’s got the best doctors and nurses on your case, top notch, extremely professional and comforting for you. They don’t bat an eye at a villain and his s/o and child, they just do their job and keep quiet about it (how does some extra cash sound?).

-Super tense right up until it’s all done. If looks could kill, everyone in that room besides you and the baby would be dead. But he softens right up once he gets to hold the baby. Despite you being extremely tired, you’re glad you stayed awake to see this, because there’s a certain look on his face. For a second, it almost seems like he’s back to how he was before...almost as if he was never a villain in the first place. The hope in his eyes is reminiscent of something old and nostalgic; it reminds you of when he aspired to be a hero. But still it’s not quite right.

-He is immediately mesmerized by your child. “They look like you...” He’s never held something so vulnerable before and felt so...warm, other than the times he’s held you.

-He would kill for both you and your child. If anyone ever threatened you or put the both of you in a dangerous situation, he would drop everything without a second thought to come running to save you. Pray for anyone who comes between the two of you; Deku will make sure they meet a fate worse than death.

-You both take turns taking care of the baby when they wake you up at night, but Deku will be willing to get up before you do nine out of ten times. He loves his child, he really does. It gives him something to take care of and nurture and it makes him feel hopeful again. That kid is his pride and joy.

-There was one time (but only one, because you absolutely ripped into him for it) where you heard the baby cry, and Deku offered to get up and take care of it, so you rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. But he never came back to bed, and the baby had been silent for a long time, so you got up to check on them to make sure they were alright, and what did you find? Deku, wide awake at his work desk with his laptop open, baby sitting comfortably on his lap with a bottle, and some surveillance footage and grotesque crime scene pictures pulled up. You were livid.

-”You better not be doing what I think you’re doing. You’re going to traumatize our child.” He looks like a deer caught in headlights when you interrupt his work. The baby just coos and gurgles, and you are absolutely mortified. He looks like he’s about to say something, and you cut him off before he can answer. “Whatever you’re going to say better be a damn good apology, Deku.” Oh, he’s in trouble all right. He just slowly shuts his laptop and brings the baby over to you. Kisses can fix everything, right? ;) He better hope so.

-Even though he’s a villain, the baby always goes quiet when he holds them. It’s like magic, almost. Sometimes you can’t get them to stop crying, and Deku will just come up and look at him with those soft eyes he reserves for only the two of you, and the baby just starts cooing and reaching out for him. Gee, favorites much?

-Never was there ever a moment more peaceful and serene than the time you came home to Deku asleep on the couch with his arms cradled around your child, face soft from sleep and the baby breathing lightly. You feel so lucky to have this in your life. It’s not easy being villains, but this was something you never expected to have, and it’s changed both of you for the better.

Bonus:

-If Deku still has a relationship with his mom, you can bet he gets her to babysit when you decide to go back to work (if you do at all, because he really wants you to stay at home with him and the baby).

-If your mother wasn’t the best or isn’t around, congrats, Mama Midoriya is now your mother, and there is nothing you can do about it. And honestly? Deku loves seeing the way you bond with her. He’s made himself a tiny family that loves him for who he is. There’s no greater feeling in the world than that.

#villain deku #villain!deku #villain deku x reader #villain!deku x reader #villain deku headcanons #bnha headcanons #bnha hcs #mha #bnha #mha hcs

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krreader · 3 years

Text

BTS reacting to you not wanting to let your child go on their first day of school.

pairing: bts x reader fandom: bts warnings: / genre: fluff word count: 1.9k+

a/n: heeey my love, thanks so much for the request, I hope you like it ♥

kim seokjin

“Your first lunchbox ever,” Seokjin beamed from ear to ear as he handed his daughter the launch box that he had carefully prepared, with all sorts of snacks that he knew she loved.

“Thank you, daddy!” she was so excited that she was about to jump up and down... if it hadn't been for the party pooper in the room.

You.

“It's not enough, don't you think?” you grabbed it out of her hand and handed it back to your husband, “Why don't you make some more?”

“But.. I won't have time to make any more. School starts in thirty minutes, to make another one of these..-” but then Seokjin stopped talking when he saw you pull your daughter into your arms and place a kiss on top of her head.

This wasn't about the food, this was about you not wanting to send her off. This was about you wanting to keep her here for a little while longer, because you just couldn’t see your baby grow up so fast.

No, this had to be handled like pulling off a band aid.

Quickly.

“Alright, you two, you can literally cuddle in four hours again when school ends,” your husband took off the apron and shoved the lunchbox into your daughter's backpack, then he picked her up and carried your laughing daughter out of the apartment, “Off to school we go.”

He did it the right way. You wouldn’t have let her go otherwise.

min yoongi

“Wait,” when your daughter wanted to dash inside, you quickly knelt down before her and pulled her into a tight hug, “I love you so much, princess. You know that, don't you?”

“Yeah,” she smiled and wrapped her arms around you.

If it hadn't been for Yoongi, you wouldn't have let her go this quickly. He was the one that gently pulled her out of your embrace and sent her off with a kiss on her forehead.

And as you were getting up, your husband said: “I know how worried you are. Will she be okay? Will she do good? Will classmates be nice to her?” Yoongi wrapped an arm around your middle and pulled you close, smiling at your daughter as she waved to the both of you before disappearing inside the school building, “Let me remind you of what happened the last time someone thought they could wrong our daughter.”

How could you forget the girl that tormented your child for months, only for your baby girl to come home crying her eyes out one day because she couldn't take it anymore. You went to her mother the next day for a little chat, but that woman was so nonchalant about it.

“Let the children handle this on their own,” is what she had said.

But your husband had disagreed.

Let's just say... her mother had to look for a new job relatively soon after.

“Thank you,” you whispered as you leaned into him.

jung hoseok

Sending a child off to their first day of school was always hard. And you had made the mistake of, instead of thinking of all the positive things that could happen to him at school, you thought of all the bad things.

You hadn't even slept an hour last night. Overthinking as well as your newborn wanting to be fed again and again made you the tired and anxious self that you were now, as you were standing in front of the school with your son.

“You promise you'll tell us when other kids are mean to you, alright?”

“Stop scaring the boy,” Hoseok said as he shook his head, then knelt down in front of your son, “Don't worry. You'll find lots of friends and have a great time.”

“But.. what if..-” if you hadn't been holding the baby, Hoseok would have pinched your leg right then and there. But a dirty look shut you up just as well.

“I'll promise, mom,” you couldn't get more assurance than this and you unfortunately couldn't keep him any longer.

All you could do was watch him run inside to start a new chapter of his life.

“I know you don't want me to tell you this, but he's growing up,” your husband said, a lot softer now than the look he had given you before, “He'll be fine, though. We'll be there to support him no matter what happens.”

Guess you had to be okay with that.

kim namjoon

“Ah, you must be the famous Kim Seojun that I've been hearing about so much,” the teacher knelt down to be on an equal level with your son and grinned brightly, “Welcome to school, young man.”

“Thank you,” your son was a little shy, but you had raised him so well that he still bowed properly.

“Well, why don't you go inside then? There's already a few of your classmates in there getting to know each other.”

And see, Seojun would have done so in an instant. Because despite being wary of adults – thank god for that – when it came down to other children his age, he was the complete opposite.

It was you that tightened her grip on his shoulders that made him look up at you in confusion.

Your husband let out a chuckle and put his hand on your lower back, “It's okay, Seojun. Go inside. We'll pick you up once school is over, alright?” Namjoon placed his other hand on yours, squeezing a little for you to let go of your son.

You did so. With a lot of hesitation and worry as you watched your son run inside the classroom, the teacher following with a smile.

“Are you sure this is a good fit for him?” you suddenly asked as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, clearly nervous, “The teacher.. doesn't he seem a little sketchy?”

“What?” Namjoon let out a snort, “He was perfectly normal and kind. And besides, we've spent months trying to find a good school for him and you loved this one the most.”

“Well, okay, but how about a different class? We haven't met all the teachers yet, right? Maybe... maybe there's someone else that could be..-”

Your husband turned to you and cupped your face in his hands with a small smile, “I know you're worried about him and as his mother, you have every right to be. But you don't have to be. We made sure that this is the right place for him to be. The teacher is great, the school is great and our son will be happy here. And if not, then we can still discuss other options. For now..-” Namjoon turned his head and waited for you to do the same. And when you saw your boy already sitting next to another boy his age, chatting happily, you let out a relieved breath, “let him be.”

It was hard.. extremely so. But your husband was always very rational, in every single situation in life. But even more so when it came down to your children. So you trusted him that Seojun would be okay.

park jimin

As soon as you entered the hallway and were face to face with the other parents, the whispering started.

“Oh my god.. isn't that Park Jimin? Former BTS member?”

“His son is in my daughter's class? Oh, how lucky she is. I hope he'll like her.”

“Wow, he's still so handsome. How lucky his wife must feel to be with him.”

It made you stop and, therefore, also stop your son from walking any further, since you were holding his hand.

“(Y/N),” Jimin whispered, not wanting you to cause a scene here.

“Maybe this wasn't the right decision after all,” you took a deep breath and looked down to your son, seemingly already ready to tell him that you'd take him back home, but then the teacher beat you to it.

“Ah, there you finally are. We've all been waiting for you,” the teacher quickly introduced herself, first to you two, then to your son, before she addressed you again, “I know that you must be worried. But your son isn't the only child of a celebrity in our class. We actually have 5 more, so he won't feel like an outsider.”

“See, I told you this was the right fit.”

But it was your son that convinced you like you needed to be convinced, “I'm going to be alright, mommy,” he said with a bright smile that made his eyes disappear just like those of his father when he smiled, “I'm a cool guy after all, right?”

That made all three of you laugh.

If he was so confident then maybe... you could be too.

kim taehyung

Nobody at this school knew that Taehyung was your son's father. You had tried to keep this a secret for his sake, so that he wouldn't get any unwanted attention, advantages or disadvantages.

So instead of walking him into the school building like all the other parents, the three of you were sitting in the car together.

“I'll get going now,” but when your son wanted to open the door, he couldn't, not even after trying multiple times, “Uh.. mom?”

Your hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly that they could see your knuckles.

Taehyung furrowed his eyebrows at that and turned around to look at why his son didn't get out. Seemed like the door was locked.

“(Y/N). Open the door.”

But you didn't say a word. In fact, you were glancing down to the engine and were seriously contemplating of just driving off with them again.

Home schooling was a thing, right? Nothing could happen to him there.

“Hey, what are you guys doing in there?!” the one that saved the day was actually Jimin. He knocked on the window, all three of you now looking at him, “Jungsik, come out, Haneul wants to go inside with you.”

The name of his best friend, the one that was in the same boat as your son, made you relax just enough for you to unlock the car. After that, you had no other choice but to let him go with a heavy heart.

It was only on your way home that your husband dared to ask.

“You okay?”

“Not really... but I think that's normal.”

Taehyung put his hand on your thigh and smiled, “It is.”

jeon jeongguk

You were so glad that Jeongguk had convinced his hyungs not to come today.

It would have been majorly embarrassing for everyone to see you on your knees holding your daughter, while you were sobbing your eyes out, just because you didn't want to let her go.

She was fine, she didn't cry at all, she was in fact so excited for this, that she barely shut her eyes last night. Right now, she was more worried about you, shooting her father an: “I need help with her,” look.

Jeongguk let out a heavy sigh and carefully pulled you away, “Alright then, I think that's enough,” then he whispered to his daughter, “Run, quickly, I got her.”

This might have been very mean, but he knew he had to do this. Otherwise you would have held her for the entire school day and she would have let you do so because she felt extremely bad for you.

“Oh god, she's growing up,” you sobbed into his chest.

“That's what kids do, babe,” your husband kissed your temple, “They become adults eventually.”

Maybe the wrong word choice, because that only made you sob harder.

#bts imagine #bts reactions #bts x reader #bts #bangtan #bangtan reaction #bangtan boys #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #bangtan sonyeondan #reader #bangtan x reader #bangtan boys x reader #requests

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littlemisspascal · 3 years

Text

The Last Mandalorian

Chapter One: The Warrior in Carbonite Part 3

Fandom: The Mandalorian / Pedro Pascal

Eventual Pairing: Din x Togruta!Female!Reader

Word Count: 4,320

Rating: G

Summary: A series that is a mixture of Mandalorian, Star Wars, ATLA, and my own imagination. The Imps have seized control of the majority of the galaxy, including your homeworld Shili. You and your sister Ahsoka have developed a daily routine despite the stormtroopers keeping your village imprisoned. One morning you make a startling discovery that will change the course of your lives forever.

Warnings: I don’t know much about starship mechanics so probably nothing in this is accurate but it’s fanfiction people so cut me some slack please, reader gets a nickname 🥳, plot plot plot, discussion of loss of loved ones, worldbuilding, dialogue heavy, this is a slow burn but it’s also ridiculously self-indulgent so I’m including as many cute getting-to-know-you scenes as I can, reader is 17 and Din is 19 so I’m going to warn this as underage even though nothing sexual or even vaguely romantic happens in this chapter.

Author Note: Thank you anyone and everyone who has read even a sentence of this story! Special thanks and love to @dindja for creating this stunning, fantastic, amazing piece of fanart for me 💖💖💖 I still can’t believe how perfect it is. I mean, I’m such a sucker for pinky promises it’s not even funny and this is just beautiful 😍😍😍

Part 2

Cross-posted on AO3

For as grand and wide-reaching as the Galactic Empire has become in its ten years of existence, it had relatively small beginnings. A group of radical Force-wielders banded together under the leadership of an old, beady-eyed man named Sheev Palpatine who believed it was his divine destiny to seize control of the entire galaxy, rewriting the ancient laws to match his own beliefs. His cult, the Sith Order, gained attention by attacking Jedi temples, capital cities, places with large populations until every corner of the galaxy had heard of them. Most regarded them with fear, but over time they began garnering a startling amount of followers who were discontent with the status quo and willingly drafted themselves as soldiers in Palpatine’s fight for control.

At first everyone in your village thought Palpatine and his cult of followers weren’t worth worrying about—after all, Shili was a peaceful planet that never drew much attention to itself. But within the first year of its inception, the Sith Order captured Ryloth and the similar peaceful characteristics between the Twi’lek planet and Shili were too glaring to overlook. A seed of anxiety took root in every Togruta’s mind after that, and continued to grow with every planet seized as the years progressed.

The Decimation of Alderaan didn’t start as a tragedy, believe it or not. The Mandalorians, Jedi, and Alderaanians combined their numbers in an all-out fight against the Sith Order. It was the largest battle ever fought in the history of the galaxy, thousands of souls willing to die to defeat Palpatine’s followers. For the first three days of warfare, the fight seemed to be in favor of the allies with many noteworthy Sith members reportedly killed in the fray, such as Palpatine’s second-in-command Dooku and lethal Zabrak assassin Maul. You remember there was a sense of hope felt within your village as everyone listened to the news reports blaring across the Holonet. A belief that things were finally, finally going to return to normal after so much chaos.

But on the fourth day, the Sith Order brought their own ally onto the battlefield.

At the time there wasn’t a name for the droids that slaughtered every opponent they faced. They were described as indestructible, unharmed by blasters and the intense heat of Mandalorian flamethrowers. Not even lightsabers could damage them. The allies didn’t stand a chance, brutally murdered one by one, their dying screams echoing across the Holonet, forever haunting listeners far and wide.

The Dark Troopers were unleashed upon Mandalore afterwards and out of the ashes rose the Galactic Empire, except, in a twist nobody—not even the Sith Order—saw coming: Palpatine died before taking on the title of emperor, passing away in his sleep. A mediocre ending for the monster who permanently altered the foundations of the universe. One of his loyal followers from the cult’s early beginnings took control in his place, a vile man with a penchant for spilling blood and a deceptively bland name: Gideon.

Only seven years-old then, you didn’t understand the unbalance in the Force your aunt kept referencing. You didn’t understand the meaning of the word genocide either. But you did understand the galaxy would never be the same ever again, and the lesson was only further established as truth when the Imperials seized your village.

There is no normalcy to return to anymore.

And as long as Emperor Gideon remains in control, there is no future to hope for either.

Silence reigns in the aftermath of Maar’s explanation as the long list of tragedies hangs heavy over the four occupants. There is tension in the air as you await the Mandalorian’s response to the extinction of his people, whether that be an outburst of anger or tears, and each passing minute only intensifies the nervous energy thrumming through your veins. Your leg starts to bounce restlessly, a bad habit you have had since childhood.

The Mandalorian stands eerily motionless. Your eyes keep flicking from your lap to his visor though you know it is rude to stare. His helmet hides his expression, but you don’t need to see it to know he is floundering right now, mind scrambling to piece together all the details thrown at him. From personal experience, you know the loss of a loved one hits like a tidal wave, hitting you over and over again until you must decide if you are going to stand up or surrender to drowning. Grieving the loss of your parents is the hardest experience of your lifetime to date.

But this...this is vastly different. The Mandalorian didn’t just lose his loved ones. He has lost his friends, neighbors, comrades, acquaintances, everyone all at once. This loss isn’t a tidal wave. It is a kriffing avalanche, burying him ten feet under in total darkness, and there is no one he can count on to save him.

Finally, after the longest five minutes of your life, he shifts, resting his hands upon his belt with an unexpected air of seriousness. “I need to go.”

You frown, head tilting. That is his reaction?

“Go?” Ahsoka echoes, sounding as incredulous as you feel. “Go where?”

“To look for survivors,” he answers, blunt and harsh, the words forced through clenched teeth.

Ahsoka is struck silent, and you feel your heart break on his behalf. Your mother’s stories about the Mandalorians had always included, one way or another, their lifelong bonds with each other. You had felt those ties when you had connected with the Mandalorian, believed for a moment as strongly as he did that his fellow warriors would come search for him, that his absence would be noticed and missed amongst them. And here he is now, still desperately clutching to them, unable—or, perhaps unwilling is more apt—to believe a stranger telling him those bonds have been cruelly severed.

“What you need is to rest,” Maar says, gentle yet firm, letting her authority as the eldest in the room seep into her tone.

He shakes his head, not backing down. “I’ve been asleep for ten years. I don’t need any more rest.”

“Your ship, it, uh,” your shoulders hike up defensively when his visor snaps in your direction, pinning you with its blank stare. Clearing your throat, you continue with a slight grimace, “It’s going to need some repairs before it can take off. I can help you fix it.”

Ahsoka looks over at you in surprise, and then in worry. You don’t blame her, especially since the offer had slipped out without you consciously meaning it to. Once again, the Force is calling the shots and you are just along for the ride, a passenger in your own body.

He considers you for a long moment, then asks, “What do you know about the mechanics of a gunship?”

If anyone else had asked you that same exact question, you would have bristled at their condescension and retracted your offer in the next breath. But with the Mandalorian, there isn’t even the slightest hint of patronizing courtesy. It is a serious question prompted from genuine curiosity.

You sit up straighter, smiling at him now. “Enough to confidently say I’m your best shot at getting off the ground.”

“What’s your plan, exactly?” Ahsoka asks you, braced against the wall with one eye on you and one on the Mandalorian across the garage, patiently waiting for you to finish assembling your tool kit.

“Huh?” You reply distractedly, trying to decide if you should bring your carbon chisel or not.

“You don’t have one, do you?”

Not. There are bigger concerns than a bit of carbon scoring. You move to grab your favorite screwdriver with a tapered socket, only for Ahsoka to snatch it away, holding the tool hostage.

“Hey!”

“Have you thought about what you’re doing?” Ahsoka asks slowly, staring you directly in the eyes. “Once you fix his ship, he’s gone. And he’s taking our best chance at escaping Shili with him.”

A quick glance over your shoulder shows the Mandalorian studying the scattered BB unit parts on your workbench. You are missing a few vital components needed in order to bring the little droid back to life after a stormtrooper shot a plasma bolt through it for accidentally bumping into his leg, and haven’t had any luck convincing the village traders to track them down for you when they went to the capital.

“We can’t keep him here against his will,” you manage at last, turning back to your sister. “Otherwise we’re no better than the Imps.”

When Ahsoka doesn’t say anything, you shrug a shoulder, adding, “Besides, I think I’m supposed to fix it for him. The Force seems pretty insistent about it.”

She makes a face at that. “I liked you better when you ignored your Force instincts. You didn’t make me worry as much.”

A laugh escapes you, embarrassingly loud in the otherwise quiet space, and your cheeks immediately start burning. Ahsoka’s lip twitches like she wants to smile, but instead she schools her features into a blank expression when the Mandalorian’s head turns at the sound. Only once he diverts his attention elsewhere again does her stare lose some of its intensity, looking less like she wants to dissect him beneath a microscope. You can practically see her protective-older-sister-instincts buzzing, reacting to the warrior’s presence.

As much as he is a chance at providing an escape, he is also first and foremost a complete and total stranger. Even worse, he is a complete and total stranger who knows how to handle weapons.

“I’ll be fine, I promise.” You squeeze her arm reassuringly. “Shouldn’t take longer than a couple of hours. You’ll be so busy smoothing the Elders’ ruffled feathers you won’t even notice I’m gone.”

Ahsoka finally relinquishes the tool, exhaling a quiet sigh. “You shouldn’t make promises you don’t know for certain you can keep.”

Walking side by side with the Mandalorian in silence isn’t awkward, per se, but it definitely isn’t comfortable either. He is close enough your arm keeps accidentally grazing against his, the cold brush of metal against your skin startling you each time. You would have considered his nearness strange if you hadn’t heard Ahsoka threaten to castrate him if you wound up hurt before she sent him flying at the juni tree branch outside your window with an unnecessarily strong push of Force.

To his credit, the warrior handled her rough treatment with the same ease he has handled everything else thrown at him. You are beginning to think Mandalorians don’t just wear beskar—they are made of it too. Other than the few glimpses of frustration earlier in Maar’s office, he keeps his cards close to his chest, impossible to read.

He watches everything though, reacting to the slightest of movements and sounds. Constantly alert. You are certain he is watching you right now, despite the fact his helmet is facing forward, your nerves prickling in response to the sensation of eyes upon you.

To your surprise, he is the one to break the silence first. “You sneak out often.”

It is a statement, not a question.

You suppose the dots are easy enough to connect to reach that conclusion. Still, the certainty in his voice has your heart skipping a nervous beat. He hasn’t even known you a day and yet he is privy to secrets no one outside your community is aware of. “Yeah,” you nod your head after a brief lapse of silence, “Ahsoka can’t train in the village. Not with the stormtroopers around.”

“Has your village tried to run them out? Fight back?”

It is only because you know he is just trying to understand your village’s predicament with the little bits of information he has that you don’t snap at him for being so insensitive. He has no idea what these past five years have been like for you all. No idea the amount of losses and sacrifices the community has suffered.

Your grip on your tool kit tightens. “I was twelve when they came. The community is mostly traders and hunters, not trained fighters. The few weapons we had were nothing compared to their blaster rifles, but some of the adults tried to defend the village, including our parents. They...” You swallow, or try to, at least, your throat suddenly dry as sand. “Our aunt looked after us until last year we woke up one morning to find a note she’d left to join the rebellion. We haven’t had any contact with her since.”

The Mandalorian’s gloved hand brushes against your knuckles. This time you think it might have been on purpose.

“I lost my parents as a child, too. There was a riot and they died protecting me,” he offers his own private details with the same reluctance as one volunteering to have their teeth pulled out. “The Mandalorians took me in, raised me as one of their own.”

You say nothing about the way his breath slightly hitches when he says Mandalorians, appreciating his openness as it puts you both on somewhat equal footing with each other.

“I owe it to them to look for survivors,” he tells you, and your montrals detect the quietest hint of a plea in his voice.

“I understand,” you answer, keeping your tone light to preserve the fragility of this moment. This kind of situation doesn’t happen often—two strangers on the same wavelength, exposing their vulnerable underbellies, desperate to be heard and yet skittish at the same time—and it is oddly therapeutic.

A decision is made right then and there in the span of a heartbeat. And even more significantly, it is 100% your own choice without any intervention or manipulation from the Force.

You stop walking, causing the Mandalorian to halt as well. He scans the area for a threat, then visibly jerks when he turns back to find you have your hand held out towards him, pinky raised high, reacting as if you are pointing a weapon at him.

“I don’t understand,” he says, blunt and almost suspicious sounding. Are you just imagining it or can you actually hear him frowning? “What are you doing?”

“Haven’t you ever made a pinky promise with someone before?”

“...A what?”

You snort, ducking your head to hide your smile, and then reach for his hand. Surprisingly, he doesn’t protest your touch.

“A pinky promise,” you repeat as you make his hand form a fist, curling his fingers towards his palm, and then adjust his pinky so you can wrap yours around it. He watches the whole process wordlessly. “It’s a sacred vow shared between two people. The Elders say once it’s sworn, the promise can never be broken.”

He cocks his head, skeptical. “Never?”

“Never,” you reaffirm with a nod. Licking your lips, you look at his visor, right where you instinctively know his eyes are staring back. “I promise I’m going to help you. No matter the odds.”

And something leaks into your voice then, something resolute and binding and otherworldly. A tremor shoots down your spine, too quick for you to make sense of it.

Your sister’s words echo in the back of your mind, ‘You shouldn’t make promises you don’t know for certain you can keep.’

You try to pull away, self-doubt gnawing a hole in your stomach, only for the Mandalorian to wrap his pinky tighter around yours, holding you still. A gasp escapes your lips, muffled by the bleeding sincerity in his voice as he swears:

“I promise I will be there when you need me. No matter the odds.”

And although your sister could undoubtedly provide you with a long list of reasons why you shouldn’t, you believe his promise to be true.

The Mandalorian heaves a heavy sigh at the sight of his crashed ship.

“I can’t do much about the landing gear,” you inform him, believing honesty to be the best policy for cases like this. “And I brought some foam-jet for the cockpit viewport, but it’s not a permanent fix. You’re going to have to find someone offworld to replace them.”

“Right,” he agrees absently without turning his eyes away. It occurs to you then that this ship is the closest thing to a home he has now. One of the few precious relics from his past he can still physically cling to.

“Does your ship have a name?” you ask.

He looks at you, as if coming back to self-awareness, and answers, “Razor Crest.”

A good name, you think. Strong. A bit mysterious. Just like its owner.

You nod decisively. “I like it.”

His modulator crackles faintly, a quiet noise produced from a sudden exhale of air. You blink at the unexpected sound, surprised to realize you recognize it. A laugh. The Mandalorian just laughed at something you said. What is next in store for you? Are akul going to sprout wings and start flying?

He steps around you, heading for the side entry door still open from yesterday with its ramp laying on the ground, pebbles shifting noisily beneath his boots with each step. You don’t realize you are staring, oddly entranced by the swish of his cape and his purposeful strides, until he calls out your name to ask if you are coming.

You nearly drop your tool kit in your haste to follow after him into the Crest’s interior, ignoring the flaring heat radiating from your cheeks.

For the next few hours, you and the Mandalorian work in companionable silence, engrossed in rerouting wires and welding damaged components with your trusty hand torch. The gunship is older than you initially assumed, perhaps even as old as yourself, and you idly wonder if the Mandalorian found it in a scrapyard somewhere or maybe inherited it from another Mandalorian. You notice the way he handles each piece with an experienced and respectful touch; the same kind of care someone reserves for their most cherished possessions. Anyone with eyes can see how much he loves the Crest just by watching him.

Once you have finished sealing the numerous cracks dissecting the cockpit’s viewport like a spiderweb with foam, you approach the Mandalorian to see his progress on returning power to the dashboard. He is on his back beneath the steering controls, rearranging a mess of wires, and barely acknowledges your presence when you squeeze yourself into the tight space next to him.

“The red wire goes before the white one,” you point out, noticing the mistake immediately. “Fire hazard.”

He pauses, looks at where you have gestured, and corrects his error without criticizing your intervention. You bite back a smile, pleased to be heard. Within your community, even though you have proven your skills time and time again, some of the villagers, usually men, don’t always adhere to your advice, thinking you are too young and too female to know about technology, until they inevitably make their problems worse for themselves and come back to you with their metaphorical tail between their legs.

You help him reattach the cover plating once he has finished, screwing the bolts back into their corners, and then watch, fingers crossed, as he attempts the ignition sequence, flipping a series of switches.

None of them light up with even the faintest flicker of life.

“Dank farrik,” he growls under his breath, slamming a fist upon the console.

You take a tiny step forward, hesitant to direct his frustration your way. “Can I try?”

He tilts his head, probably thinking he knows this ship better than anyone and if it doesn’t work for him then you aren’t going to have any luck either.

Eventually he steps back with a shrug, uttering a simple, “Sure.”

Although you can’t remember the last time you were on a ship, it doesn’t take long to refamiliarize yourself with the various controls and screens once you take a seat in the pilot chair. When your hobby for fixing broken machines changed into a passion you wanted to pursue as a future career, you started memorizing any reading material you could find on the Holonet, including the flight manuals for different classes of starships. You flip through the stored information in your mind about gunships as you press a few buttons on the panel overhead, trying out different sequences for a response.

When your third attempt fails, you bite your lip, racking your brain for a solution. You think about Huno’s kitchen droid and how you had been on the verge of ripping off one of your head-tails trying to repair it after one of its fuses blew, causing it to malfunction. Your tools and knowledge hadn’t been able to fix it in the end. It had required a special remedy to bring it back to life.

You lay your palms flat on the console, just as you had held onto the droid’s square torso. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice the Mandalorian fidget, as if he wants to come closer but is hesitant to crowd you. You ignore him, pressing your fingertips harder against the metal, visualizing in your mind the unseen gears, cables, and components stiff and powerless. You imagine the parts working properly, a current of electricity running through each wire, life ultimately returning to the entire ship, and whisper under your breath a request to the Force.

“Please work, please work, please work…”

An invisible pulse of energy burns down the length of your arms and discharges through your fingertips, strong enough you jerk backwards against the seat. Every button and screen on the dashboard lights up all at once, beeping with alarm at being so rudely resurrected.

You sit there helplessly, stunned and breathless, hands twitching in your lap. The kitchen droid hadn’t required even half as much energy to restart, barely a pinch. Now your body feels like you have been thrown against the electric fence a dozen times. Wordlessly, the Mandalorian comes to your side to help, punching buttons and turning knobs until the alarms quit blaring. A distant part of your brain thinks the Razor Crest as a whole seems strangely soothed by his presence, not quite as cold and dark, but it is hard to follow that train of thought due to the distracting pain throbbing along your temples.

“That’s quite a spark you’ve got,” he says, not unkindly or accusingly, just a statement of the obvious. He looks down at you, not outright asking for an explanation, but giving you the opportunity to open up if you wanted to.

“Yep, that’s me,” you reply, forcing a cheerful smile, praying it doesn’t resemble a grimace. “Sparks Tano at your service.”

He chuckles again, oblivious to how your heart stutters at its raspiness. “Thank you, Sparks. I appreciate it.”

“Well, we’re not done yet.” You rub at your temples under the guise of adjusting your headband. “I need to take a closer look at the engines before we attempt flying out of here. I—”

“I’ll do it,” he cuts in, already heading for the ladder. “You stay here, see if you can update the navicomputer settings.”

You know he knows that updating the navicomputer is child’s play for you. Clearly you aren’t as great at concealing your pain as you thought you were and this is his way of giving you a break. A small part of you is irritated at being treated like a porcelain doll, but you push those negative feelings aside as quickly as they develop. Your aunt always used to remind you and Ahsoka it was okay to accept help when it was offered, that needing support didn’t in any way make you weak.

“Hey, wait a second,” you call out as you spin around in your seat, freezing him right before he disappears from view into the hull. He holds onto the ladder, waiting patiently for you to continue.

“Back at Maar’s place you didn’t introduce yourself and it’s weird just calling you Mandalorian in my head,” you say, awkwardly drumming your fingers on top of the armrests. He doesn’t answer, eliciting a sigh from your mouth after a drawn-out beat of silence. “What’s your name? You do have one, right?”

“I do, but I can’t tell you it,” he admits at last. “By Mandalorian Creed, only other Mandalorians or my riduur—my spouse,” he corrects, seeing your confusion, “are allowed to know my name and see my face. This is the Way.”

He doesn’t linger to hear your response, dropping down into the hull with a resounding thud. You slowly turn back around, staring absently out the glass. Every culture is unique, including your own, but you think there is something especially interesting about the Mandalorians’. It sounds like a lonely existence, only able to show your face while in select company. What would have happened if he had been unconscious and you had slipped the helmet off his head? What consequence would he have faced?

And if there truly aren’t any Mandalorians left besides him, his spouse will be the only one to ever know him completely. It almost sounds like a love story, if not a little bit heart-wrenching.

Two high-pitched dings from the console jerk you out of your thoughts with a wince. You look for the source, finding the radar lit up and actively scanning the area, and bristle when you see a pair of red dots moving across the screen.

Not even a minute later you are sprinting out of the cave, ignoring the Mandalorian’s alarmed shout from the roof of the Razor Crest. They’re early, you think with panic, looking towards the sky where two starships with Imperial logos are heading straight for your village. Why have they come back so soon?

You push your legs to run faster, your surroundings a blur beyond the trail in front of you, but the effort is meaningless. You won’t make it back home before they land.

And when your absence is noted, bloodshed is not a possibility.

It is a guarantee.

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lovingkaede · 3 years

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hi! i saw that your requests are open and i came running. do you think you could write shuichi, rantaro, hajime, kaede, and mahiru (if you write for them) with the ultimate actress who uses her talent in more way than one, like covering up her emotions. for example, she always seem happy, calm, and willing to help anyone, but really a kind of broken person because she's been through a lot. thanks 💜

welcome, anon (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ it’s been a while since you sent me this request but i’m only writing now, i’m so sorry 🥺

w/n: i used they/them pronouns because i didn’t want to exclude anyone!! also this might have slight angst i’m not sure

Shuichi Saihara

okay but you melt his heart with your kindess. always helping those who around you, showing so much kindness and love to them, being caring with them, always offering help and constantly checking on them,, he thinks you are an angel

of course you are no different to him, and he’s very grateful

after spending more time with you and getting to know you better, he’s able to read you well

he could see how sad you actually are, always putting yourself aside and taking care of others, but getting nothing in return

it’s not like you asked something in return. nobody could ask you how are you feeling, and that felt kind of lonely to him.

you deserved love, too, even if you’re the ultimate actress/actor

so just like you did it with him, he’ll try to break your shell

he’s a bit nervous and shy about offering his help, but he wants to solve this. he wants to see you happy, in a real way

if you feel like avoiding him, he will leave you alone for that second, because he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable

but after seeing how much this means to him, you invite him over and you two talk a bit about you

you can see how much interested he is and it feels?? kind of weird?? ugh

don’t cry.

“it’s okay, Y/n, you don’t need to hide your emotions, w...we are all cheering for you and willing to see you happy, so don’t you feel like a burden when talking about yourself.”

you didn’t expect that coming from him but you can see how much he can relate to you and how much he means this

it melts your heart tbh, the fact that he’s trying is enough to make you cry

Rantaro Amami

to be honest he knew it for a while but didn’t know how to approach you

he might have tried to get you talk about it but you always managed to dodge the question

so he let it slide.

you looked so nice and caring when offering your help, listening to your friends’ problems and giving them advice, always being there for them,, you were truly an angel

the one who anyone needed

but also the one who didn’t have anyone

people told you your acting skills were really something

but who could have guessed you weren’t acting at all?

him.

he could see how lonely you are

and mostly how desperate you are to have someone listen to you

it was breaking his heart, you were the reason of everyone’s smile but you had no one. so you just predicted. predicted like a happy person

because you didn’t want to become a burden or pressure anyone

you just wanted someone. someone that could walk up to you and ask you that question you haven’t heard in so long

“Y/n, do you want to walk together?” it was Rantaro who offered you this time

your eyes sparkled in joy as he waited for your response, you immediately nodded

as you two take a walk, he tried to start a conversation, he didn’t want to talk about himself at all. he wanted you to let it all out, and relax

it was hard for you, but when you did, he smiled and gave you a hug

“you matter, Y/n. your feelings matter no matter what, you don’t have to hide them or anything, nor you have to help everyone... we care for you, always.”

he patted your back kindly, showing you the affection nobody has ever done.

“you don’t have to hide anything, okay?”

your lips curl up to a smile as you return his hug

“...okay,”

Hajime Hinata

he basically admired you for being such a warmhearted person

you were ready to do anything for the ones in need without hesitating, and you always carried a smile!!

it was like you are an iron wall, nothing could ruin your day and your hope, that’s what he admired the most about you

“Y/n, aside from your talent, you’re such a kind person,” Hajime told you

“do you think so? thanks, Hajime...” you’d say and leave immediately

has he said something wrong...?

after spending more time with you, something started bothering him

it was you

the way you actually never smiled

yes, you were kind and the best friend someone can ever have, and many people liked this about you

but was this the real you?

he wanted to talk to you. unlike others, he wanted to talk to you about you, not for a problem of his for you to solve

he wanted to fix if there’s anything troubling you

“Hajime? welcome,” you let him in, “did you need anything?”

“Y/n, aren’t you using your talent more than you should?”

e h h ?

so you were found out. don’t you dare playing dumb, Y/n

you were so surprised that someone actually suspected this side of yours, but aside from that, you were so happy. so happy that someone finally noticed

after realising he sounded rude, he awkwardly apologized and asked the same question,, in a kinder way? yeah, that’s it

and you started sniffing. eyes getting watery and your hands go up to wipe your tears away

he thought he did something wrong until you smiled. you were thankful.

“it-it’s okay, Y/n, i got you, you can tell me,... it’s fine, i won’t judge or pressure you, i just want you to be yourself,” he calms you down

seeing how he was willing to listen to you reminded you of yourself. you always did this with others but you were never shown affection, you can’t help but feel like crying to the thought of he’s willing to listen to you

“it’s not only me, i’m sure everyone here would appreciate if you opened up. we’re willing to help you because that’s what you always do, right? so... don’t predict anymore, please.”

but it’s just like he said, he got you.

Kaede Akamatsu

you were everyone’s joy, everyone could trust you in the blink of an eye and you’d always make their day

Kaede adored this side of you, you were so soft and a nice person

whenever you and her talked, she could tell you about her day and would play piano to you, it kind of relaxed you and she knew it

you were smiling to the sound of everyone having fun, but you were standing there alone

her eyes met yours, and you quickly turned your head

she thought you were just shy and invited you to hangout with others

but you said it was fine, and left

the thought of you didn’t leave her head ever since then

you were down to listen to anyone having troubles and find them solutions, giving them best advice and helping them in the slightest things. but you were never letting people approach you, avoiding them with a smile, making it seem like you’re okay with it

but she knew it wasn’t

she wanted to ask if anything’s wrong, she knew that might be because of your talent but still you looked so lonely to her and if anything’s bothering you, be there for you

when she said she’s willing to talk to you, you were touched so deeply that your heart skipped a beat. but you just couldn’t let her worry about you

“it’s ok! no need to worry for me!” you let out a giggle

“but... is it really okay, Y/n?”

no matter how hard you tried to convince her everything is alright... your eyes said otherwise.

“hey... we’re friends, you know? i care for you... you’re always hiding your true self behind your talent but the truth is you’re just torturing yourself. so don’t hide your true feelings, if we are really your friends, let us get to know you.”

you wanted to cry right there, but you held back instead

but this time, you didn’t refuse her words, which she knew were right already

“okay, but don’t judge, okay? you asked for it.” you let her inside, hesitating a little.

“never!” she said determinatedly. she won’t let that go to waste. because she cares for you and she’s willing to do anything for you, just like you with everyone.

Mahiru Koizumi

you were one of the nicest people she knew!

everything that comes from you would lighten up everyone’s day

if everyone is having a bad day... bam! you fix it.

she thought you were really a nice person for helping anyone at anything.

“Mahiru? mind if i carry your camera for you?”

yeah, you were like that.

but for some reason, you didn’t like to be on the spot light at all, you always came up with excuses and left when you were asked questions

which Mahiru found indeed weird, seeing you like this got her worried

she asked Hiyoko about it, but Hiyoko was really chill about it, she said she didn’t think there’s anything wrong with you

but Mahiru could say by looking in your eyes, you were kind of a lonely person who seeked some love? yes.

making her way to your cottage, she thought everything she wanted to talk to you, but she forgot as soon as she saw you standing beside the door

“Mahiru? did you need anything?”

then everything comes back to her mind and she remembers it. but she kind of messes up telling you because of how nervous she is asking you that.

“i think your talent is amazing, Y/n, but i think you m-mustn’t use it all the time...” ah, god, she sounded so wrong

you were confused

so was she

“i didn’t mean it in a bad way! i mean... do you really smile when you smile? do you mean it?”

that’s when she got you

she said she was worried that the person in front of her was actually not you and some stranger

you let her in since it’s dark and cold outside and talk to her, telling her you’ve been through a lot. you can tell how sorry she feels for you from the look on her face

“Y/n, i’m... i’m so sorry,” she puts her hand on yours, “but that’s all in the past now, isn’t it? nobody here is going to judge you for that... so feel free to open up to me or your friends any time, okay? i care for you and i don’t want to like you for your talent, i want to like you for who you really are.”

Mahiru, you are so sweet, i am gonna cry-

hey, everyone! i’m back writing my requests and i’m willing to finish them ASAP... soo, uhh, i know it’s hard talking about your feelings but if you’re having a hard time, i’m willing to listen to you so feel free to text me anytime :) i might not reply fast but i’ll reply no matter what... you matter and it’s all true, i love you all 💗

also as a writer (i’ve been writing since 9 but my writing still sucks-) i’ve been writing whole weekend since my step siblings are gone lol also i was exercising and studying,, my schedule was full. 😩 anyways it feels nice to get back even though i was gone for 2 days-

#danganronpa #danganronpa headcanons #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa x reader #drv2 #danganronpa goodbye despair #anime x reader #drv3 #shuichi x reader #rantaro x reader #shuichi saihara #rantaro amami #hajime hinata #hajime hinata x reader #kaede akamatsu #kaede x reader #mahiru koizumi #mahiru x reader

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socheckitout-mikey · 3 years

Note

Can I request some Teen Wolf headcanons where Isaac is dating a girl who acts in school plays? This sweetie pie would be in the front row and give her flowers on opening night, and nobody can convince me otherwise.

hey birdie! yes, i wholeheartedly agree with this. isaac would be the sweetest! the only thing that i changed in this was the gender of the reader. i decided not to specify, just so it’s more inclusive! i hope you enjoy what i’ve come up with. - mae

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Isaac Lahey Dating Someone who Acts in School Plays Hc’s:

° First and foremost, can I just illustrate how supportive af this boy would be? Isaac may not be into plays or musicals as such, but if it’s something you enjoy doing or are passionate about... then he’s here for it!

° No matter what part you play, Isaac thinks it’s amazing. You could legit be a tree in the backdrop and he’d hype you up about it. Boii is just too precious ffs.

° Isaac is especially supportive of this because it’s an extremely normal thing to engage in, as well as the fact it gives himself and the pack something ordinary to look forward to.

° You best believe that Isaac isn’t letting the supernatural drama in Beacon Hills ruin this for you and him. Yes, this play is also now for him; poor boy just longs for some normality instead of grotesque claws and fangs!

° He’s genuinely that boyfriend that will help you memorize/practice your lines. Even if it ends up being cringe. He gives fantastic feedback...

° “Yeah, maybe try saying that again, but breathe this time.”

° “I’m nervous, okay?!”

° And you bet his wolf ass that he’s absolutely t e r r i b l e at acting. All he’s managed to do is distract you and pee yourself three times in a row already.

° “Stop saying it like that, Isaac!”

° “It’s what it says though!”

° “That’s the actions of Romeo, you overgrown beanstalk!”

° “Ohhhhh! That makes sense now...”

° Like, absolute and total heart eyes for you. Security we have a problem

° He waits outside of the auditorium for you once practice is over, because he doesn’t want to overstep boundaries and make you embarrassed by his presence.

° He would’ve waited inside, but he’s also incredibly awkward. Isaac still eavesdropped from outside in the hallway, sneaking a few a lot of glances through the little window in the doors.

° Everyone knew that Isaac was already a total sweetheart to you, but now? Boy, do they love him even more! Why you ask? Because after each rehearsal, there he is, present with your favorite snack and a whole host of praises. We’re all jealous, okay?

° Everyone wants Isaac to be their boyfriend now.

° I mean, you bagged the best boy ever!

° Isaac takes you to opening night, parting ways with you somewhat awkwardly, wishing you good luck and all.

° He does it in a way that makes you relax, even though it’s a little awkward.

° “You’ve memorized those lines really good, you know? You’ve got this babe.”

° “And if you throw up on stage, I’ll have on video, Y/N.” Stiles interjects, slapping you encouragingly on the back.

° “Thanks for putting so much pressure on me, you absolute reject!”

° Literally his eyes are hearts when you’re on stage. He’s so entranced.

° Unfortunately, the moment is ruined when Stiles S C R E A M S at the top of his lungs bc loud boii is trying to support you.

° Scott and Lydia are now stuck with the task of trying to prevent Stilinski’s premature death at the hands of Isaac himself.

° That sort of thing from Stiles used to terrify you, but now you’re highkey embarrassed as Coach Finstock slaps the back of their heads and reprimands them for ruining the school play.

° Isaac claps what a fucking dork.

° Like everyone now wants an Isaac. And who can blame them? Boii is the sweetest and anyone who disagrees can catch these hands!

° After the play is finished, Isaac meets you backstage with the rest of the pack. It was meant to be romantic, but everyone else cut in before him, which irritated the hell out of him.

° But hey, even Derek turned up, giving you an affectionately awkward pat on the head and a “Not bad”, which kinda stunned everyone. Like seriously, why did Sour Wolf even show up? Stiles doesn’t let him hear the end of it either.

° More embarrassment from Stilinski ensues when he’s virtually in tears, a total wreck, and everyone’s trying to calm his dramatic ass down.

° “Stiles, no one died in the play.” You remind the hyperactive knuckle head.

° “I know that’s why I’m crying.” Stiles sniffles, wiping his eyes profusely.

° “How on earth do you survive, Stilinski? You’re literally the worlds biggest loser.” Isaac mutters, shoving passed him.

° Eventually, Isaac either muscles his way through or get’s his shot to have a moment with you. He’s got flowers at the ready and an ample army of praises for you. And kisses. We can’t forget the kisses.

° “You did so good, baby! I’m so proud of you!”

° Boii makes you blush like tf who gave him the right!

° In all honesty, boii has stars in his eyes and loves you sm. So no matter what you do, he’s simping after you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

if you enjoyed, please like, reblog and follow for more!

requests: open!

#isaaclahey #isaac lahey #isaac lahey imagines #isaac lahey headcanons #isaac lahey x reader #teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf headcanons #teen wolf isaac lahey #teen wolf isaac lahey imagines #teen wolf isaac lahey headcanons #teen wolf isaac lahey x reader #fluff #isaac lahey fluff

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multifandom-worlds · 2 years

Note

hi! this is my first time asking for anything so i'm really nervous can you please write fem reader confessing to Gavin it's okay if i could be the 💚 anon? if you don't want to do any of this that's fine too thank you so much 💚

Hi sweetpea! Absolutely you're more than welcome to be 💚anon! I love that idea! I hope you don't mind I put this is heascannon form, it's just easier on me! If you want a full drabble about this topic, come on by and let me know, I'll definitely write it out fully! Thank's for stopping by, hope to see you again soon ❤️

—-----------------------------------------------

Pumpkin Confesses

She's been basically in love with Gavin for years now but hasn't had the confidence to actually confess.

Her friends have been trying to get her to confess to him but she hasn't done it yet

She's convinced he won't like her back because he's a police officer and STF agent and she's just .. a girl. Nothing remarkable about her

Her friends are always trying to convince her otherwise but it just...doesn't work

So they went to Gavin

"Hey Gavin, our friend really likes you - practically in love with you but she won't confess"

Cue Gavin's bewildered expressions and blushing mess

"She...loves me. I've been in love with her since highschool" - Gavin in his mind, probably

Friends plan a "date" so to speak for the two of them - date gets postponed because Gavin has to leave on a 2 month long mission.

She gets to the date, expecting to run into her friends but instead, it's Gavin

"Hi Gavin! What are you doing here? I thought I was going to meet my friends!"

"Hey pumpkin. You are, I just came to say goodbye"

"G-goodbye? Why goodbye where are you going?" - her poor heart both racing and breaking at the same time.

"I have a 2 month long mission I need to go on. It's going to be dangerous. There's something I wanted to tell you before I go though." - Gavin moves in a little closer

"What's that...?" - tears slowly sliding down her cheeks. Not fair, why does he have to always leave?

"I like you. Well it's more love. I love you. I've loved you since highschool. I've been meaning to tell you for a long time I just could never find the right moment" - Gavin gently wipes her tears with the back of his index finger, sliding his finger across the soft skin of her cheek.

"I.. I love you too, Gavin. I have for a while now. I was just so afraid you wouldn't want a nobody like me that I never said anything"

Cue more blushing from Gavin even though he already knew this, he still had to hear it for himself.

Gavin low-key wants to AWOL to spend more time with her

He leans in and kisses her forehead softly before Eli pulls up to their meeting spot.

"Are you sure you have to go?" - she wrings her hands together nervously, looking up at the Golden eyes staring back at her.

"You know I have to, it's my job. These 2 months will go by faster than you know and soon I'll be right back with you" - he tucks a piece of her hair back behind her ear to get a better look at her face and the tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

She nods, unable to say anything. She just found out he loves her back and now he's leaving.

"Be safe.." - her voice breaks

"I always am pumpkin"

#mr love queen's choice #evol x love #mr love #mr love: queen's choice #evol x love gavin #gavin bai #mr love gavin #gavin mr love #mlqc gavin

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deepdonutkid · 3 years

Text

Nonsense

A/N:

This took me way too long! I’m sorry, I was stuck on the Polly part for a while after Helen’s death.

Even though there is a part in the middle, which I’m not really satisfied with, I’m still glad, I finished that chapter. I hope you like it. It’s a little sad for a story, that will later focus on... other stuff.

Tbh... I forgot, if Martha died from a disease or something else. That’s why this part is a little vague. But he will talk more about his dead wife much later in the story.

English is not my first language and this is not beta-read, just a small part of it! Thanks to @retromafia for helping me out on this chapter! You’re so lovely!

John as mental health issues, but it’s very different to those of his brothers!

tagging: @bonniesgoldengirl @theshelbyclan @justalonelyslytherin

Masterlist Do you wanna touch

____________________

All fucking week he had thought about this date and her. John was distracted at work, at home and at the Garrison. His head was somewhere else, preferably with her, the beautiful Russian girl he had met a couple of days ago. He tried to keep this to himself even though he worried others would start to notice his weird behavior. Well, it was pretty hard to shut up about it, when he sat drunk next to his friends in the pub, but John wasn’t really ready to talk about this. It still felt so surreal like this encounter had never happened and it was all in his head. In addition to that, others- mainly his family- would gladly ruin this for him, before it had even begun, which was why he was so reluctant to talk about it.

They would ask him all sorts of stupid questions, which he couldn’t answer at all. He frowned and closed the book. Later he would meet the mysterious woman again and this was his only chance, since he didn’t know her full name or her address or another way to contact her. So he had to go there or he would go crazy thinking about what might have been. But there was a problem with that.

Of course there was a problem as nothing in his life could be easy. Not even once. However he refused to call his kids a problem. His dad called him like this more than once. And if John wasn’t a problem, his name was either accident or brat. Needless to say John was way nicer to his children than his father was to him. John loved all four of them. He really did, but… somebody had to look after them, while he wasn’t at home. So he had to ask either Polly or Ada and he didn’t know what would be worse.

His sister would spread the word of him having a girlfriend faster around than a disease. Maybe she would even spice up the story a little and add some drama just for the fun of it. Then he wasn’t out for a date, but to meet the woman he had impregnated or what else. And Polly, well she was the main reason he was scared to even mention his rendezvous. His aunt had the great talent to investigate his private life like fucking copper. Once she had sniffed something, she wouldn’t let go of it and kept bothering him.

Anyways he had to talk to one of them and the chat wouldn’t be a nice one. A choice between the foul and the evil. Ugh, he was in the mood to flip a coin. There were some on his desk. So why not? He looked around, if anybody was watching him, but he was alone in his office. Then he took a coin from the daily bets and tossed it. Once it was up in the air, he had made up his mind. The coin just proofed it. He should go to Polly and it would fit in his schedule as now was his lunch break and he would eat with the others anyway. If he would go now, he could still catch her alone in the kitchen. A grunt left his lips while he stood up from his chair. His pace was steady, but fast as he made his way through the betting shop. Luckily nobody noticed that he left his table a little too early.

He had never opened or closed a door as quietly as in this exact moment. “Polly?”, he had asked in a careful tone into the empty room. John heard movements from the kitchen. Suddenly her head peaked around the corner. “Yes, John?” She had emphasized every syllable as if he was stupid. Maybe he was just not ready to have this talk. On the other hand he had no chance. This was a now or never situation and he preferred now over never.

John gathered all his courage to approach her: “Would you do me a little favor?” All the sudden his hands were sweaty and no matter how many times he had rubbed them on his pants, it wouldn’t get any less smeary. Usually he wasn’t so nice and polite to his relatives. It was more like he had earned the title arrogant brat rightfully. He scratched his neck and gave her his best puppy eyes. And just to top it off his angelic smile, which had saved him many times before. Most of the times, he could avoid the consequences of his own actions with his charming smirk.

But today it didn’t help. Polly just shook her head. “What is it this time?”

“Just a little thing”, he began, then paused to take a deep breath and gain courage to exclaim his wish: “Can you watch the kids this evening? It’s really important.”

His aunt froze mid movement and starred at him. After a while she started blinking. Her glare was concerning. “Why this time? The last time was just a week ago. Another task from Tommy? He didn’t talked to me about this.”

John pressed his teeth again and shook his head. He looked at the roof and searched for the right words to explain his situation. Why was this so difficult? It was just a date. Yet it felt like so much more.

The Shelby sighed, while his hand was fumbling with his lighter in the pocket of his pants. “I’m meeting someone” was his short answer to a complex problem.

“Did Tommy ask you to?”, she asked once again. No matter if it was business or his private life, Polly liked to be up to date.

Again he shook his head. “No, not Tommy, but it’s still important. So would you please help me?”

Polly clucked her tongue and hurried back to the kitchen. John followed her and leaned against the door frame, waiting for his answer.

“Well, I got a meeting too, so you better change the appointment with said woman, because I don’t want to change my plans for you”, she replied, while stirring a pot. Afterwards she tapped the wooden spoon against the pot and turned around. “Lunch is ready. Better get your brothers, so we can eat.”

Apparently the conversation was over, because it really started, but John wouldn’t give up right away. “But I can’t”, he protested: “That’s the only night she is available and I don’t know how to reach her.”

Without looking at him, she walked right back into the living room and started putting dished on the table. “Ahh, see? I was right about the woman part… But why do you want to meet somebody you barely know?” Her question was reasonable.

John was so lost in his thought about her and yet he had no answer. No good ones. So he just said the next best thing: “I won a bet and I want to see her.”

Right when he said that his brother came in. Arthur widened his eyes and scratched his chin. “Want to see who?”, he asked. It was horrible how nosy his family was.

There was no peaceful day at the Shelby household. Never ever.

“He has a new girl, but he doesn’t know anything about her”, Polly retorted, before John even had the chance to answer himself.

Arthur chuckled and added: “Oh, Our John was never a man for talking. Right, John boy?”

They had to be fucking kidding him. It felt like he was sixteen again and started to meeting Martha. This was so embarrassing. John nodded slowly and gave his brother a false laugh.

“Well, we had other things to do”, John objected and it wasn’t quite the truth, but close enough. There was just no explanation why he was drawn to this woman, who was a stranger to him, but oh, those kisses really worked some crazy magic on him.

His brother burst out in laughter and slapped his hand on John’s back. “Oh, I know! I fucking know what you mean”, he exclaimed: “Why talk, when you can have fun with a woman?”

And right now, John couldn’t agree less. He wanted to talk with the mysterious woman, but she rushed off into the night before he could even say goodbye to her. Damn, he wished he knew more about her, maybe then he wouldn’t be so nervous right now. The Shelby didn’t feel like his usual cheeky, charming self, more like fucking train wreck.

His face got gleaming red, but he tried to act like was completely cool with it. And it wasn’t like he didn’t want to sleep with her. Gosh, what wouldn’t he give to spend the night with her?

“Pol, you see John’s face. He is red like a crayfish”, Arthur joked and pulled his little brother into a headlock.

Their aunt walked around them, very carefully as she was carrying the big steam pot. She sounded like she was mentally everywhere else, when she murmured: “Yes, Arthur, I see it- shameful red- but now it’s time for lunch, so release your brother and come sit.” Somehow Polly managed to phrase it exactly like their mom used to say it, even though she was only three years older than Arthur, but he’d still respect her.

So he did what she asked him to do and let John go again to take a seat at the table.

It was the perfect timing to beg Polly once again, because he didn’t want to have the same conversation with his sister. “Polly, Please”, he insisted: “I wouldn’t ask you, if it wasn’t really important to me.”

“What is so important about one woman, that you have the great urge to meet her?”

That was the question he was asking himself all week, but okay. Now he needed to come up with an answer or otherwise he would have to get comfortable with the thought he would never see her again.

He licked his lips as he assembled the words in his brain to a convincing answer. “She has…”, he began, but then he got lost again.

“Huge cans?”, Arthur purposed with a big smile on his face.

But John shook his head: “Not that, her tits are average, there is something else about her and I can’t say what yet, that’s why I need to find out…. Or I go crazy.”

He turned to Polly and put on his puppy eyes again. “Do you want me to go crazy, Polly?”

Pol pouted and sighed. “Fine, you get your will again, but that’s the last time and don’t ever bother me with this again.”

His eyes shined bright in the lights of success and more importantly… winning an argument with his aunt. “Thank you and I’ll never bother you again.”

The matriarch went her way around her reign and said to herself: “We’ll see about that.”

Now this problem found its solution, the next question popped up in his head. Where were his kids? Because he was so caught up with his date, he had forgotten to pick them up from school. It wasn’t a serious issue. Three of them could walk home on their own, but the youngest was a different thing.

In his memory of this day, he had left Katie here, but she wasn’t running around like usually. “Pol, where are the kids?”

“The kids?”, she observed: “Oh, the kids you want to get rid of? You mean… those kids? They are upstairs.”

John grunted. That was far from reality and his aunt should know that. “That’s bullshit. I don’t want to get rid of them.”

“Then act like you care for them once instead of fucking around and I might believe you”, Polly chided and gave him the mean side eye, while she filled the plates with stew.

And she acted like a real bitch lately, John wanted to add, but bid his lip to stop himself from saying something he would regret deeply. It was so annoying how she tried to make him feel guilty for having a night off. He was so sick of this. Either he was working or he was with his kids and he had little or no time for himself. Just the few hours when they were asleep and he could go to the Garrison for a beer or two.

“It’s just one date!”, he yelled, but then clenched his fists and swallowed his anger and repeated quietly: “It’s just one date.”

The room was quiet now. Nobody said or did anything for a while.

Then Polly started moving again and explained: “You should focus on getting a wife and not play around with some floosy girl… but you’re an adult now, John, so do whatever you want… just don’t drag me into your mess.”

John nodded and went upstairs to get his kids. Yes, he was still bitter about the things Polly said to him, but he wouldn’t let this ruin his day. After all he had plans. Maybe he gripped the banister a little too tight, well, at least he didn’t bellowed at his children, when he found them making a mess in his old room.

All four were sitting here and around them were all the toys they had. Most of them were his old toys or some from his brothers.

“Lunch is ready”, he grunted and waited for them to get up, so they would follow him. They just stared at him with wide eyes.

His oldest daughter was the first to talk: “We heard you yell at Aunt Polly…”

He didn’t answer instead he just moaned and leaned against the wall.

“You’re away tonight”, she added and tilted her head. There was curiosity in her eyes. It didn’t bother him, but something else did. She had the same eyes as her mother. Like a dagger it pierced his heart, whenever she gave him this look. Martha used to do this as well.

Slowly he nodded. He couldn’t lie to his kids at all. “Yes, but you’ll be staying here and Polly will bring you home, when it’s bed time.”

Breanna thought about this for a second and then like this whole conversation had never happened, she stood up and helped her little sister to get on her feet as well. “Well, it’s time for lunch now”, she declared and look at her twin brother: “C’mon, James, we still got homework to do.”

Now that she was standing, John could see how small she was actually. Sometimes he forgot, she was still a child, but the way she acted was different. His oldest daughter had picked up a lot from Polly and her mother, while he was in France. However he tried to not treat her like an adult. She wasn’t and her childhood shouldn’t be ripped from her. Breanna didn’t need to protect her siblings from anything and yet she still thought it was her job.

James on the other hand was quite the opposite. Loud, angry, such a brat, he picked up fight, whenever he could, much like his father at that age.

Luckily his older brother Colin was also a voice of reason and not as chaotic as James. Colin was the oldest and he didn’t actually talk much, but on somedays and with certain persons he wouldn’t shut up. Most of the time Colin did good in school, read a lot, unlike his uncle Finn who was just five years older than him. And more importantly… Colin did everything his father asked him to.

And then here was Katie, the youngest. Just three years old and a sweet girl, but she was of fragile condition. She was born prematurely and was also the reason why Martha died. John tried to ignore the fact, because even though she was the reason, it wasn’t her fault. How could she? She didn’t pick her time to be born. However from time to time, Katie managed to make him cry. After the war, he rarely shed tears, but every time she was sick and he had to go with her to the hospital, he lost his nerves. She was still his little baby and the thought of losing her too wrecked him.

They were all on their way downstairs and John followed them back. He held Katie’s hands while walking down the stairs.

The lunch was very silent. There was still tension left in the room, but John didn’t cared. Katie was sitting on his lap and they both ate from the same plate, like they always did. But it wasn’t a cute ritual, more like a space problem, with all the family members around the table, it was a little cramped. Too cramped for Katie to have her own stool. Another reason, why he needed a wife. So he and his family could eat in his kitchen and they would all have enough space again.

A part of John was worried Polly or Arthur mentioned his date to Tommy, who would gladly take the opportunity to ruin his day. His older brother would pick all the question, John had been asking all week and then make him look stupid in front of the whole family. But apparently Polly was too pissed about the fight to say anything that day and John thanked god for this.

Somehow Katie spilled the stew all over his pants, but he had no time to go back home and change his pants. He still needed to finish the books and after that, he could get dressed for his date.

So John sat in his office in a damp suit and tried to fix what he did wrong before lunch.

Maybe the luck was on his side today after all, because he managed to get everything done early. Somethings didn’t went as smooth as he had wished for, but at least it worked out so well, that he could go to the date and it was still a win for him.

As fast as possible without running he walked home and sprinted up the stairs to the master bedroom. Now he could change his cloths and he was indeed very happy about it. The stew had dried on his leg, which made his skin itchy. Basically he ripped his clothes off the second he arrived in his room.

“Fuck.” A curse left his lips, because he got stuck in his pants and almost hit the floor. Last second he got his balance back and then threw his pants in the opposite direction. He could care about this later.

First he had to clean the stains from his body. So he rushed to the kitchen, just in his underwear and rubbed his leg with a wet cloth. This had to be enough. With the time he had left, he couldn’t take a bath.

Back in his room again, he stood in front of the cabinet and picked the first suit he had in his hand. There was no discussion about this. Suits were suits and he had plenty of them, all of them looked good on him and she wouldn’t even mind, would she?

While he button up his shirt, he stopped all the sudden. What if she would mind? Slowly he walked backwards to the cabinet. Should he wear his Sunday suit? Thought and thoughts came rushing in. She seemed like a fine lady, but yet she agreed to meet with him. Maybe she wouldn’t, if it wasn’t for the bet.

He got headache since his argument with Polly and it got worse. Maybe he would go to the spot, where they should meet and she wasn’t there. The possibility, that she tricked him, hadn’t occurred in his mind until now.

Honestly, John felt so stupid, when he realized how weird the coincidence was. What were his chances to be so lucky? To meet a beautiful, wealthy and unmarried woman, who was also funny and charming and mysterious and he could find a ton more of adjectives to describe her? And then win the round and the bet, he had made with her? What were his chances for that? So either he was one of the luckiest men in this world or a goddamn idiot.

Or maybe… his mind tricked him. He was pretty drunk after all and in his twisted mind the details of this scene got lost. Maybe he didn’t win the round, but because he wished so bad for it, he had changed his memory of that said night. Maybe he was so lonely he made up this perfect woman, because he couldn’t bare his poor existence anymore.

And did he think about his stupid suit so much?

Yes, he was nervous, but this was no explanation for this nonsense.

Right now, John was freaking out about a woman he barely knew. It reminded him of a time, where he did the same thing… but with Martha, a girl he had known all his life. Back then and today he was well aware of why he was so nervous around his first wife. He loved her and he was afraid of saying or doing something very stupid.

But he didn’t loved that Russian woman. He couldn’t, not after only one kiss. It was impossible and yet the kiss felt so real. The memory of her lips was burned into his mind and it drove him crazy.

And he didn’t know, why he had this feeling, which wasn’t love and he didn’t even know what it was, and suddenly he had more questions in his head than he ever had in his whole life.

Usually, he didn’t think that much about anything. He wasn’t the guy who put much thought into every little thing that happened around him.

Everything he wanted to do now was to yell. He couldn’t even put his frustration into words anymore. His head was full of white noise.

Barefooted he stood on the wooden floor of his bedroom, which he used to share with the love of his life. John took a few deep breaths and looked around. Everything was still the same. After the war he had no energy to change something in here, even though it was just fueling his mental health issues. There was still her cabinet with her dresses and her stuff and sometimes when he was particularly lonely, he felt the fabric and imagined her soft body under it. It didn’t smell like Martha anymore, but sometimes he wished.

It felt like suffocating. He couldn’t breathe nor cry, even though tears filled his eyes.

He walked over to his nightstand and looked at the photograph of her. “You don’t get to fucking judge me”, he whispered: “Like you always did. You died and I’m still here and I love you and I always will, but don’t ruin this for me.”

“You put all these questions in my head, so I’ll fuck up and ruin everything”, he argued… with his dead wife like she was there. And he could imagine her so well, standing next to him with her arms crossed in front of her chest and that piercing look in her eyes.

Even before she died, he talked a lot to her and about her and sometimes just to himself, but it just got worse, when he came home from France. He can’t handle the silence in the room nor the void his head. Suddenly he said with a soft voice: “I know, what I promised you back then and when I made that promise, I believed every word of it, but you can’t be the only woman I’ll ever love now. You are dead.”

He wasn’t there when she died and the worst part was… he hadn’t even known until he got home. Polly said, she was about to write a letter, but then she couldn’t, because she didn’t want to bother him, while he was in the trenches. Of course, he had worries, when he didn’t get a letter from his wife in months. John just thought she was mad at him, because she was pregnant again while he was away. And then he came home and his house was empty. No Martha and no kids. So he walked back to Polly’s Place and then she told him. His wife was dead and he was surrounded by his family, but he had never felt so lonely in the world.

To this very day, this memory haunted him in the worst way.

And yet, he refused to crumble right away. Not before it had even started. Life was going on and he refused to just stand there, while the time passed. He would walk, run away from this memory if he had to.

“Let me try it at least”, he bargained: “You don’t know her and neither do I. She could be a beast, a real bitch and maybe, just maybe I don’t want to see her again. And maybe I’ll do, but that’s not your decision. I make my own decisions now, because that’s how things work for the living people, Martha.”

It hurt to say her name, but he had to. The word had so much power over him and he took this power back, by saying it. Then he flipped the photograph over and walked back to the cabinet.

Without a second doubt he picked his finest suit and just like that Martha was gone. She would come back eventually, but right now he had other things to do. Like do his hair and drink a little sip of whiskey for confidence.

With a toothpick in his mouth, he left the house and walked the road. All alone.

#john shelby #peaky #peaky blinders #peaky fucking blinders #peaky fookin blinders #peaky fooking #peaky fanfic #peaky blinders fandom #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders fiction #peaky blinders john #john shelby x oc #john shelby x #johnboy #dead wife

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skeezsbbygirl · 4 years

Text

on track + seo changbin

hello lovelies! ｡◕‿◕｡ this is for anon who requested for a racer!changbin scenario. i hope you like it!

REQUEST BOX IS STILL OPEN. KEEP STREAMING AND VOTING STAYS. LET’S GIVE THE BOYS THEIR WELL-DESERVED WIN.

"Hyung, can you stop pacing back and forth?" Hyunjin whined as he threaded a hand through his golden locks. "I'm getting cross-eyed," the younger added, finally opting to stand up and hold the older male by his shoulders, steadying him for a second and sitting him down on the couch. "What if she can't make it?" Changbin faltered as he sat down, hands fiddling with each other as he needed something to occupy his senses.

Today was Changbin's race, one more win and SKZ was on their way to the finals, with Chan next in line to compete and finish off the tournament, that is, if Changbin wins today. He felt the pressure for his group as he first handedly witnessed the boys' struggles and hardships before making a name for themselves within the racing industry. Chan and Minho started off as a duo, but later on discovered the rest of the team through months of scouting within tournaments. Changbin has been training for months for this opportunity and you had been there since day one -- cheering them on in the background, providing connections, and witnessing their moments of triumph and uncertainty.

Although everybody claims that Changbin is one of the team's strongest player, he still needed to be reminded of that fact from time to time. He was scared, more than he would ever admit, but when faced with consoling glances, he'd just shrug it off and act smug about it, but you knew Changbin has his own battles.

"Bin, you have to get ready," Chan said, tapping the younger lad's right knee in the process. "Race starts in an hour and we need to double check everything before you go on track," he urged. The race was about to start and he could hear the commentators voice booming over the speakers, calling on the teams to assemble and do last minute checks, but Changbin resisted Chan's order, he didn't want to go down to their shed unless he saw you first. Chan shot Hyunjin a confused look and the younger mouthed your name in response, Chan nodded in understanding. "Alright, I'll head down first," he offered.

A few minutes later, Jisung and Felix's cheers jolted Changbin from his seat as they entered the room with you. Hyunjin took this as a cue to stand from his seat and join the other two in order to give you two some needed privacy.

"Where's my champion?" you announced as you scanned the room for Changbin. The said man broke into a sweet smile, a relieved sigh escaping his lips as he took in your presence. "You made it!" He cheered, hurriedly walking towards you with his arms wide open. As you neared him, you wrapped your arms around him and planted a kiss on his forehead. "Hi, baby," you gushed, tightening your hold on him. Changbin pulled away first, revealing the troubled expression that masked his sharp features, "I was starting to get worried."

You were staggered at his response, "Aw, baby. I'm always going to be here, you hear me?"

As if on cue, Changbin's lips formed a small smile as he heard your voice -- laced with nothing, but love and comfort. "I know, but this is the first time that we were given an opportunity to participate in the finals," he explained as he dropped his hands to intertwine his fingers with yours. "You guys earned it after all you've been through and I know for sure, that your name will be written as the victor a few hours from now," you reassured which earned you a kiss from him. "I love you, (y/n). I know I haven't been the best boyfriend lately but-," you shushed him, shooting him a playful glare as he attempted to insist and continue.

"No," you shook your head. "You're the best boyfriend and I appreciate everything that you do. Nobody can convince me otherwise, not even you, mister," you added. Changbin sighed in defeat, "How did I get so lucky?"

You lifted your shoulders in a half shrug. "I must've saved the country in my past life," you joked to which Changbin responded with a hearty laugh. "There you go," you paused, noting his now relaxed demeanour, "You have nothing to be worried about," you continued. He nodded and as he was about to lean in, a knock interrupted his advances.

Minho appeared from the doorway. "Time's up, lovebirds," he announced, "Chan-hyung wants you in the station now," he said as his gaze landed on Changbin. "Got it, hyung," the younger male nodded, giving you a quick kiss before pulling away from your hold and grabbing his gear. "I'll see you out there, champion," you said as you bid Changbin goodbye.

Soon after, gunshots were fired, which signalled the start of the race. The cars' engine roared to life as the contestants continuously drove laps, each of them eager to grab a winning slot which would allow them to advance into the finals. You fiddled in your seat as you witnessed Chan with the other boys moving in a hurried pace -- their muscles tensed and their facial expressions tinted with a slight hint of nervousness. It was the last lap and Changbin was leading but their biggest rival, GT7, was not too far behind, they were merely seconds away from Changbin's time.

"You can do this boys," you muttered as you bit your lip, a mannerism you adopted whenever you were feeling nervous or anxious.

You watched in fear as the cars neared the last lap.

S. Changbin [SKZ] - 3.28.43 W. Jackson [GT7] - 3.29.12 C. San [ATZ] - 3.31.10

"And there you have it ladies and gentlemen, SKZ's Changbin leads the race with GT7's Jackson and ATZ's San in second and third place, respectively. Congratulations to all participants!" the announcer concluded which earned loud cheers and applauses from the audience, including yourself.

You made your way towards the field, a smile plastered on your face.

"(Y/n)!" the boys called out for you as you approached them. Soon, you were engulfed in a group hug. "I'm so proud of you guys!" you exclaimed. Praises and words of thanks were exchanged, but you guys were interrupted by SKZ's manager calling for Chan and Changbin. "The press wants a word with the two of you."

The two men nodded and followed the elder. It was a routine during tournaments, the press would interview the victors in hopes of getting a story, asking them how they felt at the moment and plans for their team's next move. You watched in awe as Changbin stood there, a gold medal around his neck and Chan's arm around his shoulder with a proud smile.

"I'd never get to where I am today without this man beside me and my team," Changbin answered, gesturing towards where you and the other members stood. "Now, let's be honest. Not only are agencies lining up to make you take their offers, I'm sure the ladies are also taking an interest towards you guys, considering the number spectators today," the reporter noted as she pointed towards the audience, which earned her loud cheers from the crowd that mostly consisted of girls around the guys' age.

Chan chuckled, shooting a wink towards a group of girls, who screamed even louder. "We appreciate the love and support," he answered, unbothered by the ruckus he caused just a few seconds ago. "However, this guy right there is off the market," Chan teasingly nudged Changbin to which the younger lad smirked in response.

"Oh, and who is this lucky lady?" the reporter asked as she scanned the field, finally landing her eyes on you as the boys behind you cheered and hollered. "If anybody gets to be called lucky, that's me. I'm the one who's lucky to have someone as lovely and patient as her. She's been with us since day one," Changbin expressed, voice laced with affection as he shot you a wink.

A few minutes later, the boys concluded their interview and bid the reporter goodbye.

Changbin and Chan sauntered towards your group, politely bowing to the people that congratulated them on their way. "We'll be in the waiting room," Minho announced, gathering the other members, leaving you and Changbin alone.

"Congratulations, baby," you beamed at Changbin, who only pulled you in his embrace as a response. "I'm so proud of you," you added, rubbing his back in attempt to relax his tensed stature. "Thank you, (y/n)," he whispered, snuggling his face into your neck, making you giggle. "Alright, save it for tonight," you blushed as you pulled away and led him towards the waiting room.

"But what about my congratulatory kiss?' he whined.

"I'll give it to you later, I don't want to create a scene in front of your new admirers," you chuckled, referring to the comment that the reporter made a while ago.

"But, baby."

"Keep walking, Changbin."

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p4perthoughts · 3 years

Text

Young Justice Universe

Dick Grayson x Barbara Gordon

I have a theory that Dick and Barbara totally got together in the middle of season 2 (as opposed to the time jump between S2 and S3) and nobody can convince me otherwise

Events take place after Young Justice S2 E9: Darkest

Dick was definitely not feeling the aster.

He was exhausted, much like anyone would be after nearly being blown up. As he walked along he kept replaying the sound of the explosion over and over again in his head. He clutched the flash drive Kaldur had passed to him right before they lost Mount Justice. He could have put it in his bag along with his Nightwing suit for safe keeping, but he couldn’t let go of it. He needed to feel it in his hand to keep telling himself it was worth it. Losing the cave. Almost losing his life. Continuing to lie to everyone else was worth it. It had to be.

As he rounded the corner, he paused and found himself holding his breath. She was there. Of course she was there. Barbara Gordon was sitting on the steps of his apartment building. She hadn’t looked up and seen him yet so his instincts told him to turn around and run. He’d grown distant from his best friend since this whole thing started. Dick was able to lie to the entire team, even the League, all this time because the fate of the world depended on the success of this plan. But he knew that if he looked Babs in the eyes, he wouldn’t be able to do it.

He chose to keep walking forward. Before he could say anything Barbara got up and hugged him. Her touch was a warmth he hadn’t felt in a while. He definitely missed her.

“Are you okay?” She said as she stepped back.

For a second Dick had forgotten what had just happened and that Mount Justice was gone. Reality set back in like a cold punch in the face.

“Yeah yeah. Everyone’s pretty shaken up, but we all made it out...except for those that were taken.” He said while avoiding meeting her eyes.

“Tim said that explosive took out the entire place.” She said in a way that sounded like a question.

So he nodded. But then when he looked back at her, her concerned expression turned into sadness for a brief moment. Dick forgot that Mount Justice had become a second home to Babs too when she joined the team.

They stood there for a minute before Barbara broke the silence.

“What’s actually wrong?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Dick said as he headed into the building.

Babs grabbed her gym bag from the steps and followed behind him, “yes you do.”

“I’m your best friend, Dick. I know when somethings wrong.” She said as he pressed the elevator button.

Dick stepped into the elevator and she invited herself in behind him. He chose to not address it so he tried to change the subject.

“What’s in the bag?” He said.

“What’s in your bag?”

“I asked you first.” He retorted without skipping a beat. He missed their banter.

She sighed sarcastically and unzipped her gym bag a little as it still hung on her shoulder. Right, dumb question. He saw the bat symbol on her suit’s chest plate and her cowl. It was past midnight so figures she was out patrolling. That’s two points in her column now cause this is further proof to her he was off his game. He could feel her eyes look up at him, so he knew he was right.

As he pulled out his keys and began opening his door he remembered the flash drive in his left hand. The events of the evening all rolled back to hit him like a tsunami. The harsh words from Wally echoed in his ears. It was worth it he told himself.

When they got inside Barbara made herself at home -as usual when she comes over. She laid down her stuff and headed to the kitchen. Dick put the flash drive on his dresser before heading for the couch. He fell into the cushions with the weight of the universe on him and put his head in his hands.

He felt Babs come back. She sat next to him and comfortably put her legs in his lap. She had opened a bag of chips and offered him some. They sat there together for a while in silence. Just two friends, eating chips, comfortably in each other’s company. Maybe it’s because Barbara knew him longer than almost anyone. She knew everything about him. She knew who he was, both as Dick Grayson and Nightwing -Robin before that. She was everything to him from his first kiss to his best partner out in the field.

Finally Barbara put the bag on the coffee table in front of them and she scooted closer to him. He put his arm on her knees.

“Talk to me, Grayson.” She said.

Dick finally brought himself to look at her. He looked at her and saw her deep, green eyes starring right at him. They weren’t filled with resentment like Wally’s or anguish like Conner’s. They were warm and comforting. He feared that if he told her what he wanted to tell her, that they wouldn’t look at him that way anymore.

He let out a sigh and closed his eyes. She reached for him. As he felt her soft touch on his face, he broke. He told her everything about the mission and the lies.

When he got to the part about Artemis working undercover with Kaldur, he noticed her expression get distant.

“So she’s -she’s alive?”

He nodded. And waited. Waited for her to yell at him. To tell him what he was doing was wrong. That it wasn’t worth it. Or worse, for her to say nothing.

Instead she looked at him and asked, “who knows?”

He told her about their tiny circle that was in on the plan. He told her how he felt lying to everyone on the team, about the flash drive, about how he felt responsible for the other’s kidnapping, about how he almost got his team -his family- killed. He felt like he had been underwater and how he could now finally breathe. He had kept everything bottled up for so long that now it exploded and he didn’t even notice there had been tears until he found himself wiping at a wet sensation on his cheek.

When he looked at Babs she didn’t say anything. She simply pulled him to her and embraced him. His head lay under her chin as he allowed himself to wrap his arms around her waist. Dick steadied himself as he listened to the rhythm of her heartbeat. They sat this way for a while.

Dick pulled away finally when he felt he’d gained control of his breathing and his thoughts. He looked at his best friend and said, “you’re not mad?”

She looked at him and took a long breath.

“No,” she said finally, “for as long as I’ve known you Dick, you never do anything to hurt anyone. Even if that means hurting yourself. I don’t like that you lied, but I understand why you did. I’m sorry you felt that this was something you had to take on by yourself. I’m sorry you felt like you had to be Batman...”

She trailed off at the end. Babs knew more than anyone that Dick no longer wanted to become Batman. She knew from working with him first-hand that Batman was somebody only Bruce Wayne could be. Anybody else would be crazy to try to act like Batman...except Dick did.

“I’m not telling you that you have to let me in on the rest of your mission,” Barbara said, “I just want you to know you’ll always have someone to talk to when things get overwhelming. You’re not Bruce, Dick. Never forget that you’re never alone.”

That was it. Leave it to Barbara to always have the perfect thing to say. He felt like a huge weight had been lifted off him and could feel a relief he hadn’t felt in ages. He looked at her and simply said, “thank you.”

She smiled.

“Soooo,” she said after a moment. “Wanna watch a movie or something?”

He raised an eyebrow.

Babs sighed, “I told my dad I was gonna sleep over at Mary’s to finish a project because the original plan was to spend the night on patrol since Bruce is presently out of town but then I heard what happened through the comms and I found myself coming here...”

She was starting to ramble a little. Dick noticed she only did that when she got nervous...and he’s rarely seen Babs get nervous. He hadn’t realized how close they were sitting to each other either.

“Yeah, we can watch a movie.” Dick agreed after he found himself starring at her lips for a little too long.

He tasked himself with finding something to watch while she got the bag of chips and went back to the kitchen to find something else for them to snack on.

Dick couldn’t help but watch her. He loved the way she walked around his apartment like she lived here too. So maybe it had been too long since the last time he’d seen her. Really seen her. Like outside of their costumed extra curricular activities. He missed her. Babs was always beautiful. And it wasn’t weird he thought of her in this way. They’ve always had a special type of relationship. But besides the usual playful flirting between them and a couple kisses -amazing kisses- they were just best friends. Secretly he’d been wishing they were more than that since he was 13 but he knew he wasn’t ready for her then.

Thinking back to their conversation, he realized how much they’ve each grown as people. And more importantly how it felt like they hadn’t grown out of each other as most childhood friends do. No, if anything they’ve grown more into each other. No matter how much time they spent apart, they could always come back together and fit perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle. The sound of a pop from the microwave brought him back outside his thoughts. Then he stood up, like on autopilot and as if his brain had just said “fuck it. Stop being a coward” he walked across to where Babs was waiting on the popcorn. As she turned to address him, Dick took her face in one hand and her waist in the other and kissed her. It was a long and deep kiss. He pulled away a little after to see her expression.

He was close enough that when she opened her eyes again he could see her pupils were dilated as she looked up at him. They were both breathing slightly heavy from the kiss. He could tell he caught her off guard but he didn’t know how to string words together to say how much he just wanted her and was tired of dancing around it. So he hoped his eyes were enough to convey that message. The silence was broken by the microwave beeping. Dick took the bowl out and put it on the side of the stove to let it cool a bit.

“Dick?” Barbara said making him turn around.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. He started kissing her back and as their lips moved together Dick felt a warm feeling in his stomach. Is that what people mean when they say butterflies? He’d been with other women but never felt that. He pushed her up onto the kitchen counter and his hands traveled to her waist. Her hands moved from the back of his neck to his hair as she pulled him closer. Her lips were so soft that he never wanted to depart from them and her touch was so soothing that he felt every worry lift off his body making him feel weightless.

The way their bodies moved together was in perfect synch. Like two pieces of a puzzle, he thought to himself. He noticed her hands had gone down to the bottom of his shirt, gently tugging at it. So he pulled apart for a moment and took it off. Her hands felt so amazing as they touched his chest. As their lips met again this time his wandered down towards her neck. He hasn’t realized she was wearing a black tank top that fit her so well until the moment when he began pulling it off her. Their eyes locked as she smiled at him. He couldn’t help but smile back because her happiness was always contagious to him.

Dick realized that if they were going to continue, they shouldn’t keep doing so on his kitchen counter. Without skipping a beat he effortlessly picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist and he carried her over to his bed.

#dick grayson #nightwing #barbara gordon #batgirl #young justice #young justice invasion #dickbabs #fanfic #dc comics #dc universe #batman #robin #dc #the writers weren’t gonna give this to us so I wrote it myself

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