#a measly attempt at angst

[pellucid-constellations]

Of Oblivious Minds (4)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Angst

a/n: Thank you for reading and sorry for the wait!! I hope you enjoy :) Let me know what you think ❤️

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

~~

You were leaving today, and suddenly—with your bags at your feet and the air around you filled with stagnant silence—a few days seemed so juvenile. So… inconsequential in the grand scheme. 

You would leave, and when you returned everything would be the same. Azriel would still love another and you would still be left with the bleak realization that you had spent the last few centuries denying a love that you knew to be fruitless. 

Nothing would change if you were to be gone only a few measly days. 

But if you were to be gone a month? A year, even? 

Much of your work for Rhysand could be done from afar, especially with the library in Day Court. Helion wouldn’t mind; he’d asked you to consider an extended stay in the past. And maybe there could even be something there, something to take your mind off of your true home. 

The home that wasn’t Velaris. 

You saw him every time you closed your eyes. His rare smiles, his even rarer laughs; you saw the way his watchful eyes skated across every room you entered and reminisced on each twitch of his hands—the way you could feel it against your fingers when you grabbed for him in the busy streets of Velaris. 

Azriel was inescapable, even when you battled against your vision and attempted to drift to sleep. 

He was everywhere, everything. 

But he wouldn’t be in Day Court, and although that wouldn't stop your thoughts, it would be something. It would be distance. 

With a flick of your wrist, you sent your bags away to Day Court and heaved in an uncomfortably large breath. You knew he would do little to deny you, but you still needed to ask Rhys. He was your High Lord and employer, above all your friend, and you knew it would take a little persuading. 

Maybe tears. Yes, tears were very moving and equally as conjurable at the moment.

It only took one step before the knock on your door left you still. Your shoes made a dent in the carpet and you could hear him breathing on the other side of the ornately carved wood. You could always tell when it was Azriel. 

You shifted your weight from one knee to the next, gripping your skirts at the thigh. Azriel knocked again, this time in a faster pattern—more rushed. 

You bit into your lip. You hadn’t planned to see him again, not before you left. You would deal with the repercussions of such an act later on, but not now. Not when you had finally gotten your emotions under control for long enough to have a conversation with Rhys. 

It made sense to you now why you had repressed this for so long. 

The sound of your voice was startling. “Come in.” 

The door creaked, but the sound was overpowered by Azriel’s boot clicking against shining marble. The shadowsinger entered before his shadows, but the wisps followed close behind, quickly abandoning their master in favor of darting toward you. They twisted up your legs and elbows, rolling into your hair and dancing along your fingertips. 

Something like fear, love, crushing defeat tugged and tugged at your chest. 

“Azriel,” you greeted, aiming for a surprised tone and failing. “Have you come to see me off?” 

The spymaster didn’t smile. “Rhys sent me. He said you might have a message for him.” 

That cauldron-damned meddler. Of course he somehow knew about your reservations. You doubted he knew exactly what you had to say, but you had been dragging your feet all morning and were currently about an hour late for your own departure. 

And of course he had sent Azriel of all people. 

“Oh! Well, I suppose I could go and—” 

“Why is half of your vanity gone?” 

You blinked, startled by the words. If Azriel was anything, he was polite and never one to cut someone off. You went to search Azriel’s expression but found him zeroed in on the table pushed into the corner of your room. 

“What?” It was all you could think to formulate. 

But Azriel was quick to respond. “Almost all of your things are gone. Your perfumes and the pots of cream you keep on the side. You’ve only left the items you don’t use anymore.” 

“How do you know—” you cut yourself off this time, ignoring the glaring question that tried to blind you. “Azriel, I’m going away… to Day Court. You know this.”

But Azriel only shook his head, stalking over to the table and yanking the drawer open so harshly it shook the mirror. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he went to your closet, throwing open the door, shoulders rising and falling with more effort. 

“Azriel—” 

“You’ve packed too much.” He turned to you, some of his shadows returning to wind around his chest. “You’ve taken most of your clothes.” 

“You know I always overpack,” you laughed, but the laugh sounded fake, painful. 

You fought the urge to cower under Azriel’s scrutinizing gaze. It was as if he was on fire, as if he was aflame and filled with something that had been pent up for far too long. If someone, anyone, were to look inside of you, they would see the same thing. 

Which is why you needed to get far, far away from this situation. Away from him.

But the longer you looked back at him—the longer you tried to slap that easygoing smile on your face—the longer he stared back with the same steady intensity. 

“Is something the matter?” you tried. 

Azriel’s hand twitched. 

That feeling crept along the edges of your ribs once again. 

“Is something the matter?” he parroted, jaw so impossibly tight the words came out pinched. 

You finally looked away, playing with your fingers. “Yes?” 

He started laughing. But it wasn’t the kind of laugh that made you feel light. It didn’t fill you with pride for eliciting such a sound from him, nor did it make you want to laugh in return. It made you feel dark; as Azriel laughed, you wanted to heave the sound back within the depths it flowed from. 

“There are several things that are the matter, y/n, but I’d say the most pressing is that you have been avoiding me for weeks. That every moment I’ve tried to spend with you has been promptly evaded and now you’re leaving and you had no intention of saying goodbye.” 

“I was going to—” 

“Please,” he pleaded, eyes soft yet so achingly desperate. “Don’t lie to me. Not right now.” 

The indent in the carpet was becoming permanent; you couldn’t seem to move. 

“I’ve been… I’ve been going through a hard time. Leaving seemed like it was the best for me. Just for a little while. Just until I could sort a few things out.” 

“For how long?” he asked, voice cracking along the precipice of the last word. 

You paused then, staring hard into his eyes. “A while.”

A shaky breath left the shadowsinger, his chest reflecting the sound. He ran a hand into his hair and tugged at the roots, an action you hadn’t seen him do in years. A sickening sort of pity ran through you—a sort of responsibility. 

Because Azriel was your friend, and he was going through something, too. You had no idea if his mate reciprocated his feelings. You found it hard to believe that anyone wouldn’t love Azriel, but the conversation you’d overheard last week gave nothing away. 

Maybe Azriel hadn’t told her yet because she didn’t love him. And maybe you were being a bad friend by not being there for him. 

Tossing your hurt to the side, you took a step forward. Azriel watched the movement, eyes flickering behind you to catch the previous imprint of your feet on the carpet. 

“I’m sorry,” you began, resolute. “I’m sorry that you felt you couldn’t tell me. And that you’ve been… having a hard time. I know I’m not leaving at the most opportune time, but you can write to me and I can help you.” 

Some of the brokenness on Azriel’s face morphed into confusion. “Help me?” 

“With your mate.” 

And it was as if Azriel had been shot. He physically recoiled, his right foot coming down to catch him as he fixed his imbalance. 

“I know you wanted to keep it private, but I overheard. Azriel—” You swallowed. Hard. “—It’s so wonderful that you’ve found your mate.” 

Something was set in motion, and Azriel was shaking his head. His gaze was fixed on you and his eyebrows were pushed together in a painful expression and he just kept shaking his head as your chest caved and it became hard to breathe. Something pulled from within and it felt like your heart was unraveling. 

Couldn’t he see how hard this was? How much it took from you just to acknowledge that he was destined for someone else? 

The shadowsinger seemed unaware of your inner turmoil, instead taking long steps across the room until he reached you. He leaned down, brought his hands up to your face, and he broke another piece of you as his forehead touched yours. 

He was whispering something, words so low even your fae ears couldn’t catch them, but you knew they were fast. Fast and incoherent and you weren’t even able to find their meaning in his expression because his eyes were squeezed so tightly. 

“Please, just notice. See it, angel, it’s there.” 

Your jaw quivered. He was so close to you. The few words you were able to make out were confusing. 

“My oblivious girl. Please.” 

“Azriel—” 

When he opened his eyes, the world fell off its axis. The fear in your chest—the feeling that had been unraveling you and leaving you weak—alighted. It pulled and pulled but this time it didn’t hurt. It no longer left splinters embedded in your ribs or took the breath from your lungs. 

As you looked up at Azriel, it was only soothing and warm and—

Mate. Azriel was your mate. 

You pushed back from him, stumbling and catching on the rug as you went toppling down to the floor. There was no pain from the fall; a numbness overtook your body where the warmth once flowed. 

“You’re my—Azriel, you—” 

There were no endings to the sentences you began. Azriel tried reaching a hand down, but when you wouldn’t take it he joined you on the floor. He sat with you between his legs, bringing you forward until your knees curled against his chest. And then he wrapped you in his arms and then his wings, taking calming breaths as yours ran rampant. 

“I am your mate,” he finished for you, so much more soothing than you had ever heard him speak.

“But Elain,” you gasped out, finding solace against his chest. You leaned your forehead against him and relished in the heat. 

“What of Elain?” Azriel asked, bringing a hand up against the back of your head. 

“You love Elain.” 

“I do not love Elain.” 

“And Mor?” 

“I do not love Mor, either.” 

You nodded against him. This would take longer for you to come to terms with later, but only simple answers were getting through to you now. And the bond—the bond—sang as you touched Azriel. The bond didn’t care if you were confused or hurt or disbelieving.

Your mind swam as a new influx of emotions filled you, but there was a distinction to them and you knew they weren’t your own. At first, it was hard to pick through them all; there were so many that they all blended together. There was an obvious tender love, but also a crippling fear that mingled with a darkness you couldn’t place. There was adoration and hopefulness and a sense of peace that lay at the bottom of all else. 

But you could tell this peace was new. It wasn’t as deeply ingrained as the others. 

Azriel leaned back, craning his neck down to catch your gaze. “Do you feel that?” he asked. When you nodded, he continued. “Those feelings have always belonged to you. All of them. I know there is not a lot of proof of that, and I will spend the rest of my life making up for that, but they have always belonged to you.” 

“Have you always felt mine?” you asked, voice sounding unused. 

“Since I’ve felt the bond,” he nodded. 

“How long have you…” 

Azriel sighed, but it wasn’t out of irritation. The bond told you as much. “Months.” 

Tears burned at the back of your eyes. “Then why did you never—” 

Azriel shushed you as your voice cracked. He ran both hands behind your head and held you steady as his lips pressed to your forehead. 

“I didn’t want to lose you.” 

Throat still closed, words still choked, you replied, “That is idiotic.” 

This time, when Azriel laughed, you felt that pride spark up in your chest. “I know, angel. Gods, do I know that.” 

There was a brief pause, a respite to the revelations and emotions in the room. You counted your breaths as you pressed against Azriel, and he ran his hands up and down the length of your spine, chaste kisses pressed to your head as the minutes ticked by. 

“Don’t leave.” Azriel broke the silence. “Stay. Please.” 

When you didn’t answer, he kept talking. 

“You don’t have to love me. I know that is a lot to ask and there are still so many questions left unanswered. But, y/n, I have loved you for a long, long time. I couldn’t bear it if you left. It has been difficult to even function this past week with you avoiding me. If you were to leave—”

“I only avoided you because I thought it wasn’t me,” you interrupted, pulling back once again to meet his gaze. “I thought you didn’t love me and I couldn’t stand it, so I wanted to leave.”

A grim line set into Azriel’s mouth. The desperation returned to his eyes. “We have wasted so much time.” 

“I wouldn’t say wasted. Not when you were here. Not when I was still with you.” 

“Angel.” The word came out like a plea, and then his lips were on yours. His hands pressed you closer and his mouth was hot against yours and it was everything you’d spent three centuries ignoring. You loved him, gods did you love him, and in this kiss was every proof that he loved you. 

You tangled your fingers in his hair, musing the already displaced strands. His wings quivered as you kissed him more, the action sending little pools of light into the bubble he had created. They felt warm against your eyelids, and when you pulled away to see the cause, Azriel moved his attention to your jaw, your cheek, your neck. 

“You are my mate,” he affirmed against your skin, low and gravelly. “Mine.” 

You pulled his head away, leaning your forehead against his own. “And you are mine.” 

“I love you,” he said. 

And you couldn’t say it back, not yet. Azriel seemed unperturbed by this and accepted your small smile as a reply, reciprocating it tenfold. His smile shone in the pockets of light created by his wings and his eyes no longer looked sad. It made you want to say it back.

When that guilt flooded you and your mouth parted, there was a tug at the bond instead. You gasped at the feeling, blinking up at Azriel with owlish eyes. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for months,” he admitted, smile softening as he ran scarred fingers along your cheeks. “Every time I felt your doubt or fear. I figured I could startle it out of you.” 

You rubbed at your chest. “It feels warm. And…” You couldn’t find the words.

“It feels good, angel. This bond was cold and it hurt, but it—it feels good. Like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.” 

A breathy, awestruck laugh escaped you. “You know, I still have to go to Day for the weekend. It’s court-appointed.” 

Azriel groaned, burying his face in your neck. “Then I will come with you,” he grumbled, words muffled against your skin. 

“You cannot. But you can wait for me to return and I will come right back here.”

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #azriel spymaster #acotar fanfiction

[brummiereader]

PREVIOUS PART

Hopelessly Devoted (PART FIVE)

Summary: After your tearful departure from Small Heath, you find your way back in the town you bid farewell to quicker than expected, Inevitably back to face the very man who told you to leave. Will your unavoidable confrontation with Tommy threaten to put an even heavier strain on your already fragile relationship?

Warnings: Language, angst, mutual pining, mentions of blood

" Fuck, fuck fuck!" you sobbed dropping your keys on the floor as you furiously wiped away your tears. With one sharp kick in frustration to the old wooden door at your current predicament you slumped down onto the cobbled floor as the clouds broke open and a deluge of rain poured down on you. Great.

" Y/N?..." You heard Polly's voice say in the darkened alleyway, her heels echoing loudly through the back row of house as she hurried over to you, holding her brolly up from the torrential rain now pouring down on the entire town. Yes that's right, Polly. You was back. Your dramatic departure filled with tears and sorrow in attempts to escape both your broken heart and Tommy's fury lasted all but one day. One fucking day. You quickly learnt upon your arrival in London after meeting with the Landlord that there had been a mistake or, what you had determined to be an absolute bollocks of an injustice. There was no letting, or at least there wasn't anymore. Greed knows no bounds and the Landlord your cousin had spoken of was no different. With little sympathy he quickly explained to you that he had let the property out to someone else, favouring their six months advance in rent over your measly one month deposit, leaving you on the doorstep of the flat you hoped you would call home with a puff from his cigar and a snide smirk as he slammed the door In your face. " Y/N?" Polly said as she helped you up from the ground, her eyes wide in confusion." You should be in London. What are you doing back here love?" She questioned as she pulled you under her umbrella, rubbing you arm up and down in attempts to warm you up.

" I was. But like everything in my life it was a disaster. I can't do anything right " you said as you sniffed back your tears bending down to pick up your keys.

" Disaster? You've only been gone twenty-four hours. What could have gone so wrong that you found yourself back in this shit hole?" She replied looking around her as she kicked a clump of mud off the end of her pristine black boots.

" Landlord had a better proposition, six months worth of rent in advance" you replied as you wrapped your hands around your body from the cold.

" Greedy bastard" she replied with an irritated huff on your behalf. "What about your cousin, you couldn't have stayed with her?"

"She's not there. Neighbour said she went to Hull on holiday. A holiday, In winter, who does that?" nobody does Polly thought to herself, especially not somewhere as bitterly windy as Hull. This was all too much of a coincidence for her liking. There was only one person that could have arranged all this within the space of twenty four hours and he was currently sat in the Garrison with her two other nephews and half a bottle of whisky in his hand. Deciding to spare you any further misery for one day she kept her suspicions to herself, but not without mentally taking note to give her meddling nephew a sharp smack to the back of his head the moment he had sobered up and the warm lull of alcohol had worn off. " I have two weeks left of rent on this place Pol. I kept a key just in case" you said turning to look up at your bedsit window. " He's changed the fucking locks on the back door, I can't get in!" you started to sob again as you looked down at the keys in your hand." Pol what am I supposed to do?"

" Come on, you'll stop at mine" she said hooking her arm in yours as she started walking you out the alleyway.

" Pol, Tommy...I can't " you said as you abruptly pulled away.

" Yes you can. You'll stop in Ada's old room. And as for Tommy, you let me worry about him. Understood?" she replied, not giving you a chance to argue otherwise as she took you by the arm once again. " I doubt you'll see him anyway love. He'll be in the Garrison until the early hours drowning in his sorrows"

" Sorrows? What's he got to be sorry about, thought he had everything made?"

"Y/N, there's something I need to tell you..."

" Bewitched, she bloody bewitched you!" John slurred as he raised his glass of whisky up to the ceiling whilst he precariously tried to pour a steady stream of the amber liquor down into his mouth, half of it inevitably spilling onto his freshly ironed shirt.

"No. Y/N bewitched me. Bewitched me since we were kids" Tommy said as he slammed his glass down onto the table, reaching in his pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes.

" Fucking hell, that good was it Tommy?" John laughed with a snort as Arthur threw a cushion at his head causing the remainder of his whisky to tip over onto the plush crimson sofa he was laying on. Polly would certainly have his head for that.

" Wouldn't fucking know anymore, it's been five years" Tommy mumbled under his breath lighting a cigarette as he let his body fall back into the arm chair. But he did know, he did remember. He'd thought about you every night since the day he boarded the train for France. Thought about the small whimpers he would coax from your lips as he rocked his body into yours. The way he'd wrap you tightly in his arms after as you drifted off to sleep, listening to the gentle sounds of you breathing as his own eyes became heavy, and he joined you in peaceful dreams. Now all he heard was the sound of shovels on the four walls of his room, reminding him of what he had lost, what he had endured in those lonely nights away from you. Not that he would admit it of course.

" So what's your plan Tom?" Arthur said as he looked down at his drink, swirling the amber liquor from side to side before downing it. For once, he was the lesser drunk out of the three. Polly had given him strict instructions to go easy on the whisky and watch that Tommy didn't drink himself into oblivion. What Polly really meant was to not drink at all, but all Arthur heard was " go easy". And he had, albeit within his own limits before he too was too drunk to stand and ended up as hammered as his two younger brothers.

" Bloody Plan. I don't have a plan" Tommy lied as he stood up, leaning his arm on the mantle of the fire place to keep himself steady as he looked into the flames.

" You not going to London after her then?" Arthur asked as a heavy feeling of guilt started to sit uncomfortably in the pit of Tommy's stomach. The truth was Tommy did have a plan, one that had started to play on his conscious like the many other things he had added in the last twenty-four hours.

" She won't be in London for long" Tommy replied as he flicked his cigarette into the flames.

" Jesus Tom, what you done now?" Arthur said as he stood up, handing him the bottle of whisky to further dull his guilt.

" Something I'll regret no doubt" he said taking the bottle, intent on finishing its contents before Arthur grabbed it back. Pulling out your gold watch from his trouser pocket Tommy rubbed his thumb over the front, the wear and tear of the years he had kept it by his side more noticeable the longer he looked at it. " Fucking women eh?" Tommy said as he cleared his throat placing the watch back in his pocket.

" Your fucking women. You don't half pick 'em" John replied as he sat up rubbing the back of his neck as he placed a cushion over the whisky stain beside him, hopeful Polly wouldn't notice.

" Nah, Y/N was an angel" Arthur said resting his hands on his stomach as the four glasses of sharp liquor started to weigh down his heavy eyes." It's the other one I didn't get. You had it all Tom, what the hell was that?"

" To piss Y/N off" Tommy said shamefully when the front door creaked open and you and Polly walked in from the rain.

" To piss me off?..." You said, standing their stunned having heard the entirety of their conversation.

" Y/N..." Tommy said stumbling your name out as he turned to face you, his eyes wide at the realisation you had heard his spiteful confession.

" What the bloody hell are you lot doing here? You're supposed to be in the Garrison" Polly said as she shook the rain from her umbrella, her eyes darting between you and Tommy and the death stare you was sending him. It was all about to kick off.

" Grace was to fucking piss me off?!" You shouted as you marched over, grabbing the bottle of whisky from Arthur's hand and launching it in Tommy's direction.

" Jesus fucking Christ!" John shouted as he jumped out the way, dodging the bottle that landed on the floor beside him as a barrage of other objects came flying Tommy's way.

" Y/N, darling, I didn't mean it like that..." Tommy attempted to say with his hands out as a vase of flowers landed on him, gashing his arm. "Fuck!" he yelled as he looked down at the shard of glass lodged in his skin.

" She got you good there Tom" Arthur chuckled, amused at the fact his little brother was finally getting his dues. " Stay still" Arthur said getting up as he rubbed his hands together ready to play the surgeon. Looking sheepishly over to you Tommy watched as you turned around and stormed out the house.

"Y/N wait!" Tommy shouted as he pushed Arthur's hands away, pulling out the piece of glass stuck in his arm with a loud grunt. " Y/N it's pissing it outside, come back in!" he yelled after you as he ran through the living room, stumbling over the edge of the coffee table in the process. Drunk, one arm bloody, hair disheveled, he looked a mess, a desperate pathetic mess.

" Fuck off Tommy!" you shouted, arms crossed as you walked rapidly down Watery Lane.

" Y/N I didn't know! I didn't fucking know!" He yelled back in the middle of the street, awakening the whole neighborhood as the rain continued to violently pour down on the small town. " I thought it was you. Isaiah, Kimber's men...what, what else was I supposed to think?" he said coming to a stop as you continued to ignore him." You started all this you know, five years ago when you broke my heart!"

" Shut up, shut the fuck up! You screamed as you span around, storming back to him having had enough of hearing the same broken record non- stop for five years. Coming face to face with him, Tommy took a step back. He had never seen you this way, this angry this furious, the softness of your face replaced with a rage he had created. "Have you ever, ever once stopped to think that when you left me on that platform when you didn't look back, you broke my heart too!"

" I did look.."

" Shut up Tommy, just stop!" you cut him off unwilling to entertain anything he had to say as the whirlwind of anger stormed within you.

" Y/N" Tommy said reaching his hand out for you that got quickly slapped away by your own.

" I may have broken your heart first Tommy but every day since you have broken mine over and over again. I waited Tommy, waited five years. Watched you move on with that barmaid, stood there as you accused me of stabbing you in the back" you sobbed, the bitter reality of your unrelenting devotion towards him and all the years you had wasted trying to please him cutting sharper then any cruel passing comment he had ever made." All because I loved you...because I couldn't let go" you sobbed as the anger that had been building in you rapidly left, leaving you stood there deflated.

" Sweetheart please.." Tommy pleaded hearing the hurt in your voice as he gently cupped your cheek, slowly moving closer to press his forehead against yours.

" I'm not your sweetheart anymore. I'm done Tommy." you cried turning around as Tommy's hand dropped from your face.

" Y/N!" Tommy shouted, watching you walk away as he stumbled forward slipping over the wet dirt covered ground, the half bottle of whisky he had drunk dulling his usually sharp reflects. " Have a look everyone, take a good fucking look!" he yelled watching the neighbours curtains twitch from behind their windows, his yelling bringing the whole street's attention to the commotion he was responsible for. "Tommy Shelby on his fucking knees begging, happy now Y/N. Y/N!"

" Bloody hell, get up Tom. You're making a fucking scene" Arthur said looking around the street as him and John pulled him up from the ground.

" How much has he drunk?" Polly said storming over with Tommy's coat as Arthur and John held him up.

" I don't know half a bottle, maybe more" he replied as he brushed the rain off Tommy's face." He's alright Pol, ain't you Tom?"

" Arthur, I told you to keep an eye on him. He's a miserable bastard when he's drunk" Polly said looking to her nephew as she placed the coat around Tommy's shoulders.

" Would you all just fuck off..." Tommy slurred, pushing his brothers off him as he walked off into the night.

" Tommy where you going?" John called out ready to follow when Arthur put his hand out.

" Let him drink it off John boy" Arthur said watching him stumble around the corner.

" Don't you mean sleep it off?"

" Drink it off. Tommy's barely slept a wink since him and Y/N broke up"

" Best we leave him to it. The drink will force him to sleep whether he wants to or not" Polly said as she ushered her nephews back to the house. " Come on, in" she ordered them as she turned around to shut the door. " One day, just one day I'd like us not to be the talk of this town"

" Tommy, Tommy! You sick Tommy?" Curly said as he bent down to Tommy laying in a heap of hay inside one of the horses stalls on Charlie's yard early the next morning, his hand grasped tightly around another bottle of whisky he had presumably found on his way there.

" Nothing the hair of the dog can't fix" Charlie said as he bent down lifting Tommy's peaked cap up as Tommy slowly opened his eyes . " Think he's had enough of the good stuff, get him a glass of vinegar instead Curly" Charlie said as Tommy grunted at the idea of his Uncles hangover cure.

" Vinegar, I'll go get vinegar for you Tom. We'll have you back in shape in no time" Curly said as he hurried off out of the stall.

" Tommy get up, you're laying in horses shit" Charlie said as he grabbed the bottle of whisky from his hand. "You won't find what your looking for at the bottom of a bottle Tom" Charlie said as he poured its contents onto the cobbled stable floor beside him whilst Tommy watched the only thing that dulled his self-inflicted guilt slip away. " Y/N?" Charlie said as he turned the tin water bucket upside down to sit next to him, handing him a cigarette.

" Written across my face is it Uncle?" Tommy said as Charlie leaned over to light the end.

" Always did find your way back here, sleeping with the horses when you two would have it off. That and a bowl of cold water on you when she'd find you the next day" Charlie said as Tommy let out a scoff of a laugh looking down at the cigarette between his fingers. " She still comes in here. Find her siting there watching Curly brush the horses like she did when she was a kid, like when you were both kids" he said as he nodded to the bench in the corner of the stall as Tommy rested the back of his head on the wooden enclosure whilst the memories of happier times flooded back to him.

" Started when her dad died. Would bring us here to get away from her mum and Polly's sharp hand on the back of my head" Tommy chuckled as he breathed out a cloud of smoke. " Just wanted her to enjoy the quiet" he sighed rubbing his thumb along his brow as last night's drinking started to catch up with him. How long would he keep doing this?

" Times changed" Charlie said as he looked over to Tommy's eyes fixed on the bench in the corner where you'd both sit " So what did you do this time then Tom?"

" What haven't I done?" Tommy replied as he stood up adjusting his coat around him.

" Still breaking her heart?" Charlie said looking up to Tommy as he watched him pat down the horse he had for company the whole night, thankful he couldn't repeat his drunken rambles.

" Since I boarded the train for France, so I've been told"

" You were too young Tommy. You were about to go off to fight. You could have left her a widow when she was still a kid herself. But I'm guessing that's not all you've done." Charlie said as Tommy listened and let his Uncles words sink in. " Make it right Tom. She's been good to you, she don't deserve this"

" Think I ruined all chances of that Charlie" Tommy said giving up, straightening his peaked cap out as he walked out into the bitter morning mist.

"Bollocks. Bite the bullet and do what you got to do Tom, else you'll spend the rest of your life looking down that whisky bottle" Charlie said as he walked off, throwing the empty glass bottle into the cut.

"Vinegar Tommy" curly said running up to Tommy as he squinted through the fog, watching his Uncle walk off into the yard.

" Save it Curly, for when I'm really down in the dirt, ey?" Tommy said as he patted his shoulder, forgoing the idea of drinking Charlie's sharp remedy to bring him to his senses. His words had been enough. It was time for him to pay the piper and own up to his mistakes if he ever wanted to win you back.

It had been a week since your return to the town you thought you had bid farewell to and a week since you had last seen Tommy, having avoided every one of his attempts to talk to you. After a sharp word to your landlord Polly handed you a new set of keys to your bedsit the very next day. But with only one weeks worth of rent paid left, and your unexpected return ticket from London costing more that you thought it would, your savings were dwindling. Polly had offered you help even asking you to come back to the betting shop, an offer you was convinced Tommy had been the first to suggest. Declining both propositions and adamant on showing Tommy you didn't need, nor want his help you decided to look for work elsewhere, and with three job interviews lined up for today you had high hopes your money troubles would soon pass. Fixing your hat in place, you pushed a small pin into the side firmly securing it from any gusts of wind that threatened to blow it over. With one last glance at your appearance in the mirror you turned around, the smile on your face dropping and a scowl quickly replacing it at the sight of the growing flower garden currently occupying every surface of your bedsit. Seven bouquets of flower for each day you had been back, each with their own card hand written to you from Tommy himself. Fuck sake. Gaudy, flashy, over the top. Not like the beautiful posy of meadow flowers he would spend time picking for you on your birthday. You thought to yourself as you glared at them opening your front door only to be met with another ridiculously large bouquet in your face.

" 'Scuse me Mam" the young boy said as he stepped back. " Delivery from Mr Shelby"

" Jesus fucking Christ" you mumbled under you breath. You had no space for them and was frankly getting fed up with his pitiful gestures. After the relentless messages he had left you it was time to send him one final of your own so he understood exactly what your thoughts were on his grand displays of love. Pulling the card out from within the bouquet of red roses you scoffed at the message before reading it aloud.

" Roses are red..." you said without finishing the rest of the card before ripping it up and placing it back within the flowers as the young boy shuffled on his feet, his eyes quickly darting away. " Send them back Archie" you said with a huff as you shut your door.

" But Mr Shelby he..." the young boy replied nervously before you stopped him.

" Archie it's alright" You said bending down to his level as you placed your hand on his shoulder " Don't you worry about Mr Shelby, he won't do a thing. The only person he will get angry at is himself after his brothers tease him about this, alright?" You smiled as he nodded his head in reply. "Send them back at noon when Arthur and John will be there. We can't let them miss out on the opportunity to get one over on him can we?" you giggled as the young boys muddy cheeks dimpled into a grin. " Go on" you said handing him a penny, winking to him as he ran to the stairs, jumping down the rickety wooden steps two at a time. That will keep him at bay, you thought to yourself as you too headed down the steps jumping off the last one, your mood suddenly brightened again. Little did you know your scheme to keep Tommy away would only backfire when the result of another stupid idea Tommy had concocted to get your attention was about to play out.

" What do you mean the position has been filled?" You asked as you stood in front of the manager of the postal office, having only just arrived for your final job interview that day.

" Sorry Mam. The Position was filled this morning" he replied clearing his throat as he shuffled the papers in front of him.

" But it's only eleven thirty, I'm the first to be interviewed on the list" you pointed out to him at the paper on his desk. This was your last hope. The two previous interviews, well, lack of interviews were disastrous. One only lasted all but three minutes and the other place was shut before you even arrived.

" We erhh, we found someone yesterday" he said packing his documents into the draw as he quickly stood up taking the other pile of files sitting on the side.

" Yesterday was Sunday"

" Mam I'm sorry. I can't help you, the position has been filled" he said as he looked to the door not wanting to be asked any further questions.

" Shelby Company Limited" you scoffed, noticing the business card on top of the pile of documents in his hand. " He's been here hasn't he? Told you not to give me the job?" you huffed crossing your arms as you bit your bottom lip trying to hold back the tears welling in your eyes. Your heightened emotions never failing to show themselves at the most inconvenient of times.

" He said you already have a job, he was quite adamant about it. He..." the manager replied as you put your hand up, stopping him from making any more excuses for him.

" Save it " you said wiping your eyes as you turned on your heel, heading for the very man you knew was to blame not only for this failed job interview but the two others as well. Thomas fucking Shelby. Was this his way of getting you to talk to him, for him to see you? Well he was going to get just that, and five years worth of pent-up anger coming his way too.

NEXT PART

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

[prentissluvr]

too cold — joel (and tommy) miller

gn!reader , (future)fatherfigure!joel (and tommy tbh) , takes place a year or two after joel and ellie settle in jackson , reader is in their mid/late teens , hurt/comfort, angst , cw : brief mentions of loss of friends and family, hypothermia , wc : 3.8K , special thanks to @piggyjeans for reading this for me and motivating me to wrap up this part and get it out to you guys !! <333

at this point, you’re beginning to wonder why you even try. you wonder if there’s a point when the scraps of any family you had left, found or biological, are long gone and you’re on the brink of freezing to death yourself. you managed a fire last night, but you’re shivering beyond control even in the daylight with your sore lack of a real coat. wherever you are, it’s cold as hell and winter is setting in far faster than you could ever combat. essentially, you’re screwed. it seems like it might snow more, there’s not a building in sight, and you’re running out of bullets and food. the cold bites at your exposed nose and takes permanent root in your bones.

night falls far too quickly, bringing the thick snow that you feared almost as much as infected or people; those you could fight, but the snow? against that you have no defense but a sputtering fire, measly shelter, and a slowly thinning sleeping bag. curled into yourself as much as you can, it takes a concerningly small amount of time for you to fall asleep.

by the time you finally come back into consciousness, the struggle to open your eyes scares you even in the muddled state of your mind. the sun is far higher than ideal; already you’ve lost precious traveling time now that your only hope is to find abandoned buildings to scavenge for supplies. and yet, the last thing you want to do is get out of your sleeping bag. it’s kept you as warm as you could be, and even now in the leftover warmth sleep, you’re all too aware of the snow that blew into the small overhand of rocks you slept underneath and the way it’s freezing temperatures will soak into your feet until it reaches every nerve of your body when you continue your trek through the forest.

but, despite that heavy question of what’s the point, there’s no way you’re going to let yourself give up and waste away in the cold without trying to save someone, even if that someone is yourself. so with every struggle, you pull your hands out from their haven in the swaths of fabric, fumbling slightly to zip open the bag and pull yourself out. you’re eternally grateful that you have gloves, but within the few minutes of packing up, the cold has already started to settle in your hands, feet, and face. begrudgingly, you swing your pack onto your shoulder and shove your hands into your pockets, looking for the most direct path to higher ground to scope out any buildings.

as you start out, it seems as though travel may not be the worst. but the thick snow from last night’s flurries and the still slowly falling flakes are quick to tire your legs from the effort, and the way that your jacket lets in too much of the numbing wind hinders your pace. you find yourself exhausted, taking moments to rest against trees that stretch into minutes, maybe longer as your mind becomes foggy and consistent shivering sets in throughout your whole body. 

you stumble a bit and clumsily grab hold of the nearest tree. what the hell am i doing? you wonder. you let your whole side press against the rough surface of the tree, squeezing your eyes shut, then opening them in attempts to clear your head. but that doesn’t seem to help when you start to wonder if you’re hallucinating. just meters away your eyes land on a tall brown horse, an animal you don’t think you’ve seen outside of pictures. you stare at it in wonder for a moment, but a feeling of panic sets in when you process the fact that there’s a man sitting on the horse, a large rifle strapped across his back.

with your shaky hands you fumble around to pull out your gun, but it does you no good when the rifle is pointed at you in seconds. 

despite the threat, the man’s voice isn’t harsh when he calls out to you. “’s alright. ’m not here to hurt you, alright? just drop your weapon.” without much resistance, you do as he says, seeing no other choice and feeling not an ounce of energy to fight back. within moments, he’s off the horse, one hand on its reins and the other put up in the air in a careful truce as he slowly moves closer to you. when he’s near enough that the snow doesn’t obstruct his view of your face, he can see the way that you’re shivering and the unfocused look in your eyes and can immediately notice that something’s not quite right.

“i need you to tell me if you’re infected. don’t lie now, alright? i’ll shoot you if i find out you do.” at this, his voice is more stern, stirring up a bit more fear in you. but you’re able to shake your head clearly.

“no. no, ’m not infected. haven’t run into any for days,” you speak aloud for the first time since you woke up this morning, and you don’t notice the way that your speech is slurred, but he does.

“alright, then. kid, i’m gonna get you somewhere warm, okay?” in the back of your head, you’re terrified to let him closer, to let some stranger lead you somewhere, but the promise of warmth is something you desperately need. even so, you flinch away when he’s finally right next to you and reaches out. “i promise ’m not gonna hurt ya. i’ve got somewhere safe and warm for you, you’re gonna freeze to death if you don't get some help now.” he’s completely right, you realize, so you just nod. “there ya go. do’y have a coat we can get on you?” he frowns when you shake your head, but doesn’t hesitate to unzip his own padded coat. gently, he pulls your pack off your back and sets it down. you don’t even realize what he’s doing until he shrugs his own coat over your shoulders and pulls it tight over your front. the leftover warmth from his own body is heavenly, but in the action, you lose your support against the tree and unconsciously lean into his firm frame. you don’t notice, but he stiffens at this, and his frown grows deeper when he feels how cold you are to the touch.

with strong hands, he pulls you away from him slightly. wordlessly, he guides your shivering arms into the sleeves of his coat, silently grateful for the warm jacket he still has on.

“we’ve gotta get on the horse, now.” 

you just nod, letting him guide you to the tall animal. but you stop short at its side, completely unsure of how you’ll get up.

“first you put your right foot in the stirrup, right here.” you don’t have to say anything for him to begin telling you what you need to. “put your hand on the saddle here to help you up. i’m gonna hold you steady, okay?” you nod, letting him place his firm hands on your waist as you put the last of your strength into lifting one foot into the stirrup. “now you’ve gotta push up with that foot to swing your other leg over the horse.” it takes all of your concentration to understand what he says, and strength that you don’t have to actually do it. it’s messy, but thanks to his help and some miracle, you find yourself on top of the horse and putting all of your effort into staying upright.

“there ya go. i’m gonna get on in front of you, don’t you fall off now.” he quickly fastens your pack onto the horse, letting out a small grunt as he pulls himself up onto the animal. his body warmth right in front of you is precious and you don’t have it in you to feel awkward in the way he does as he pulls your arms around his torso to keep you steady. “just hold on and stay awake, alright? shouldn’t be too long til we get you warm.” once again, you just nod, knowing he can feel it with the side of your face pressed against his back.

as the horse starts forward at a decent pace, his instructions of holding on prove to be harder than ideal with your weakened grip. you don’t know how much time passes until the horse’s movement stops and the man’s voice, along with another, meets your ears.

you startle when the unfamiliar voice calls out. “joel! what took you so lon– what happened?”

“sorry, tommy.” you can feel the rumble of his voice while pressed against him, and turn your head to face the source of the other voice. “found ‘em leaning against a tree just a bit off the path. think they’ve got hypothermia.”

there’s another man on a horse, probably younger, but you can’t tell much else in the snow and the state of your mind. either way, you can’t help but read him as a danger. the man in front of you, joel, you assume, must have picked up on your fear behind him

“’s alright. that’s my brother, tommy. he’s here to help too, okay?” 

another nod from you, and a “damn” from tommy.

“let’s get going, then. we’ll stay in the lookout for tonight then get them back to jackson first thing in the morning. it’ll be dark soon.”

joel agrees, and with that, you set off. every so often, his voice brings you out of your daze long enough for you to nod your head against his back when he checks if you’re still awake. your sense of time is long gone; all you know when you arrive at the mentioned lookout is a vague sense of relief. 

“kid?” his voice rings out and you realize the motion of the horse has finally come to a stop. you do your best to sit up, hating the biting air that immediately hits your front now that it’s not kept warm by joel’s back. your hands stay resting absentmindedly on his shoulders in order to keep you from slipping off of the horse. “tommy’s gonna help you off, okay?” you let out a small hum of acknowledgement as tommy dismounts his horse and comes to stand beside you.

“here we go,” he gives you a small, encouraging smile as he lifts his arms up for you. “put your hands on my shoulders, and i’ll get you down safe ’n sound, alright?” it’s a bit of an awkward reach, and you begin to slip down before you have a proper grasp, but his hands are quick to secure themselves under your armpits, preventing you from falling and instead pulling you into his chest. your knees buckle the moment they hit the ground; tommy’s strong grip keeps you upright. “there you are, ’s alright. god, you’re shivering like a leaf in the wind. we’ll get you nice and warm now.” 

there’s a bit of a struggle getting inside, your legs practically refusing to hold your weight. an immense wave of relief washes through you when you collapse onto the couch they bring you to and you let your eyes shut in exhaustion.

“now don’t you fall asleep on us quite yet,” joel warns. “we gotta get you warm first. tommy, get some hot water going.” you force your eyes back open to see him crouching in front of you. “listen, uh. some of your clothes are a little wet from the snow, and we can’t have that.” he pauses at that, studying your face to catch any sort of reaction.

“okay,” you whisper, somehow coherent enough to still understand what he’s saying and know that he’s right.

“okay,” he repeats. “can i take these jackets off?” you nod. his grip is gentle when he pulls you up from your slouched position, allowing you to lean into him when he slips off the coat he gave you, then your own slightly damp jacket. you begin to shiver even harder, your thinning cotton shirt doing nothing to keep any cold at bay. “alright, alright,” he mumbles, half to himself as he pulls his thicker, dry coat back around you. then comes a blanket, taken from the couch and wrapped securely around your shoulders. he shifts you to rest against the back of the sofa.

that’s when he pauses, at a bit of a loss of what to do because your jeans, despite your thick boots, are soaked from the snow almost up to your knees. but there’s no way in hell he’d feel comfortable taking off your pants, much less how you’d feel. 

“i’m gonna have to cut your pants,” he concludes. “promise we’ll get you new ones in town, but you’ll never get warm like this.”

“’s okay,” you mumble. so he rummages in his pack until he finds a pair of scissors, doing his best to avoid touching your bare skin with his hands or cut you with the cold metal. it’s tricky business; the jeans stick fairly close to your skin, but he manages not to even nick you with the sharp edges. the moment you’re free from any damp clothing, he wraps another blanket securely around your legs so it won’t fall off. 

moments later, tommy reappears in your line of sight with exactly what joel asked for. he leans down, holding it out to you. with shaky hands, you grasp the cup, sighing in immediate relief at the warmth that spreads right into your fingers through your gloves.

“careful, now,” tommy advises. “it’s real hot, don’t burn your tongue.” you do your best to follow his instruction, weakly blowing at the hot water when you bring it close to your mouth. resisting the urge to down the whole thing, you grip it tighter and bring it to your chest, hoping to let some of the warmth permeate through other parts of your body other than your hands. it feels like a little piece of heaven when you feel the steam rising up to warm your chin, your lips, and the tip of your nose and the heat from the cup itself travel through your thin shirt and to the skin above your collarbone.

when you finally begin to sip on the warm water, it’s almost glorious; you can feel its warmth spread through your body. so once you discover it’s no longer too hot, you take long gulps and heave heavy sighs of relief. your trembling doesn’t disappear, but with the third cup, it certainly subsides.

this, and the far more relaxed expression on your face finally convinces joel that it’s safe to let you fall asleep—you’re halfway there anyways. tommy takes the empty cup from your hands before it can slip from your hold, and joel unravels your sleeping bag. at that point, you can no longer process the softly spoken words being exchanged by the brothers, but you’re vaguely aware of tommy’s arms tucking themselves under your shoulders and knees and pulling you off of the couch. then you’re being maneuvered into the sleeping bag that now lays across the surface of the couch, tommy setting you down while joel ensures that you stay properly wrapped up in the blankets. sleep claims you so quickly that you don’t hear the agreement between the two men to take turns keeping watch over you to periodically check your temperature and breathing.

joel wakes you in the morning, his gruff voice quickly recounting the events of the previous day when your jumbled state of mind after waking from such a deep sleep launches you into a panicked confusion. his explanation and comforting hands on your shoulders calm you in moments as the memories return, however vague they are due to the haze of your sickness.

“thank you,” you whisper as he helps you to sit up, his hands still gentle and supportive on your shoulders.

“course. like i said, we’ve got somewhere safe for you if you need. and at the very least, we’ve gotta get you some new pants and make sure you don’t get sick. were you travelin’ all alone?”

“not at first,” you explain, knowing he’s probably wondering about finding someone so young alone. “but now… yeah.” he sighs as if that’s the answer he expected.

“’m sorry,” he frowns. you just give a tight-lipped smile in response. “alright. we should get moving so we can get you to the town doctor. tommy’s gettin’ the horses ready.”

your eyebrows raise at his words. “town doctor?” you question. that puts a small smile on his lips that you don’t quite understand.

“yep. it’s a good place to be,” is all he offers in explanation.

“okay.” you begin untangling yourself from the blankets and sleeping bag that did the job of keeping you warm throughout the night. still covered by his coat, your upper half stays comfortable, but the feeling of your exposed calves hitting the cold air is unwelcome, not to mention the slightly embarrassing sight of the jagged edges of your jeans at such an awkward spot. 

“sorry ‘bout that,” he comments, “but we’ll keep your legs wrapped up with blankets for now and get you new jeans in town.” once you nod, he grabs a hold of one of the blankets he laid on top of you after you feel asleep, a rather small piece of fabric, but the right size to help you out. he wraps it around your left leg, using ropes from his supplies to gently secure the fabric, then repeating his actions for your other leg.

as he does so, he keeps his gaze focused on his task, but his gravelly voice meets your ears. “realized we never asked your name,” he phrases it like a statement, but the obvious question is there.

to be honest, you hadn’t even realized either, first, mind clouded by the hypothermia, and up until now too caught up in the oddness of your situation. one moment you’re all on your own and on the brink of death, the next you’re saved and seemingly on the way to what sounds like some sort of miraculous safe haven even from the vague glimpses of information you hear.

you state your name, hoping with all you can muster up that this isn’t some kind of cruel trick, and that the kindness the two men have shown you is as genuine as it’s proved to be thus far.

“well then,” he repeats your name back to you as he secures the last knot, still not looking up at you, “let’s get you home.”

those words nearly knock the air from your lungs. he throws them out like they don’t mean much, but in the most confusing way, because you’re sure he did it on purpose. you’re sure he does know that they mean a whole lot more than a casual tone and avoided eye-contact, but you suppose you can’t blame him. it’s often easier to pretend they don’t mean anything, certainly much more with people you don’t really know at all, people like you. and yet, you can’t help but think he said it to reassure you. to tell you that this place he’s talking about is one where you can find that thing everyone in this world has lost. as if it’s somewhere you already belong without having set foot in it yet. and you can’t tell the difference between hope and fear in that moment, so you shove it all away.

“sure.” you stand just after he does, grabbing your sleeping bag and beginning to roll it to the best of your ability while still weak. but he stops you, quickly taking over the task of clearing and packing up the last few things in the lookout after handing you a cup of warm water, not too hot. you finish it quickly, still more than grateful for any warmth that can be provided.

joel motions towards the door once he’s finished, and on still slightly wobbly legs, you walk up to him, stopping before he can lead you out.

“thank you, joel,” your voice is quiet, but sure when you say it.

“of course,” he assures, genuine in the affirmation.

“and tommy. tommy, too, of course,” you stutter, suddenly feeling awkward.

“sure thing.” he clears his throat, one his occupied hands almost moving up to rub the back of his neck. at that he turns, and you follow him out, back into the cold.

the shivery weather is not welcome by you, but in a properly warm coat and definitively out of the worst of your condition, it’s far more bearable. you feel bad for taking over joel’s coat, but he seems just fine in his jacket that’s clearly far warmer than your old, lousy excuse of a winter garment.

tommy and the horses are waiting there, just as joel said, and he smiles upon seeing you.

“good to see you up and alive, kid,” he grins with a gentle pat to your shoulder.

you answer his playfully reassuring attitude with a bashful smile of your own. “yeah, the alive part is definitely a plus,” you say in attempts of matching his tone. the way his grin grows tells you the joke landed, putting you at even more ease than before. unfortunately, it doesn’t make the way you formally introduce yourself to him any less awkward, but he seems glad to know your name. by your side, joel tightens one last strap on the horse before placing a careful hand on your shoulder.

“i think we’re good to go now. it’ll only be a few hours of riding,” he informs.

“sure,” you nod. pausing for a moment, you cast eyes down before speaking, albeit a bit timidly. “could you.. could you help me up again?”

you completely miss the soft look on his face at your request. “course i can, kiddo. i’ll get up first and help you from there, okay?” at your affirmative, he easily mounts the horse before holding a hand out to you. “just put your foot here, grab my hand, and i’ll do all the work, alright?” he moves his leg away from the stirrup so that you can use it yourself, his grip on your hand steady the moment you place it in his palm. gratefully, you follow his instructions, doing your best to use your own strength in tandem with joel to ease the effort he has to put forth to help you up. as you swing your leg over the horse, he guides your hand to hold onto his shoulder for you to grip far easier than his hand and succeeds in getting you into the saddle behind him. with that, you’re off, traveling somewhere that you somehow dare to hope is the sort of paradise joel and tommy have described.

,

part two here !!

#joel miller #joel miller x platonic!reader #platonic joel miller #tommy miller #father figure joel #joel miller tlou #tlou show #joel miller x gender neutral reader #joel miller x reader #tommy miller x reader #joel miller comfort #joel miller fluff #joel miller imagine #joel miller angst #joel miller x gn!reader #joel miller hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fluff #tlou joel #joel miller father figure #the last of us #tommy miller father figure #tommy tlou #tommy miller tlou

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

hii! it’s me yet again. just resending the link. thank you!! 😊

https://www.tumblr.com/little-miss-dilf-lover/740301214616616960/hi-how-are-you-ive-been-reading-your-fics-for-a

hii angel!! really loved writing this!! link - but will summarise to save the search. thanks for requesting, hope like it💌 not back yet, this was in my drafts

MISSED CALLS.

tangerine x fem!reader

summary. tangerine doesn’t answer your calls when he’s away on work. one night you think you hear a someone breaking in

word count. 968

warnings. angst!! little bit of hitting (reader hitting tan) hurt comfort bc it heals my heart and wound cleaning

The severity and extreme conditions of Tangerine's job often left you feeling vulnerable - alone hundreds of miles away as you wallow in worry. Castaway with no way of keeping tabs on him, no way of confirming whether he was dead or alive. 

This particular mission had you in all sorts of perpetual grief - in an everlasting spiral of dread as you await his calls. For the last week, you eagerly lingered by the phone, waiting for him to give you updates - anything to let you know he was okay. But you never once received a call - not even a quick, measly text.

It was late, the evening dark and quiet as you set up in the kitchen, wanting to distract yourself from the fear of him being gone by making a hearty dish - cooking your favourite meal to ease the ache in your heart.

Pulling out the ingredients from the fridge, you place them on the counter beside the board and knife, setting everything down on the surface. You pause, stopping still as you hear the sound of faint scuffling from behind the front door - the noise of heavy footsteps.

You grab the large knife from the chopping block, clutching it tightly in your fist as you back away from the window, shrinking in on yourself to minimise being seen. Without a second to think otherwise, you find yourself following the sound, territorial footsteps leading the way.

Standing beside the grand wood door, clasping the chef's knife with the blade pointing down - holding it in the angle Tangerine taught you. Stilling your erratic breath, you pause, hearing a familiar groan from behind the oak.

The jingling of keys confirms your theory, and you yank the door open, the immediate feeling of relief easing your shoulders when you see him on the other side.

"Oh my god," you gasp, dropping the knife to the floor - pulling him in for a hug. "Oh my god," you repeat, shock evident in your breathy tone.

Tangerine drops his duffle bag, gripping you tighter, hands clasping around your mid back - holding you like he didn't want to let go. "I'm so sorry," he mutters, his words full of sorrow. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, clutching you in a tight embrace.

"Why didn't you call? I was so worried," you whisper, squeezing him, relishing the feeling of his upper body. "You didn't even text... nothing," your tone subtly changes, the juxtaposing emotion of anger slowly creeping in. "You didn't text."

You back your head away from its spot in his neck, pulling away. "A whole week— nothing. How could you do that?" you remark, tone growing pointed.

"I know, love. I know—" he starts, his words soft and heartfelt though you were in no mood to hear it this second.

"That's so fucked up," you retort, trying to pull away from his tight hold. "So selfish," pushing and hitting at his chest, attempting to free yourself. "Let go— you're so selfish. You— how could you do—" you continue, words breaking when he doesn't release you - his hold still firm around you even with your hitting. "A whole week."

"Darlin'," he coos, pulling you back in. "I know," he adds, words faint as he mutters them into your forehead - clear regret in his voice.

He slips his hands from their hold on your back, moving to the sides of your face, cupping your cheeks as if to calm you - ground you. Making you look him in the eye, and only then do you really see his face, finally taking note of the cuts and scrapes and bruises marking his skin. 

"You're hurt," you mumble, teary eyes darting over his face.

He hums, pressing a kiss into your forehead. "Bit of'a bosh," he weakly smiles, trying to lighten the mood.

You give him that all-too-knowing look, a faint grin lining your lips as you slip from his hold, weaving your hand into his. Leading him into the kitchen, you guide Tangerine to the table, making him sit. 

You rummage the cupboard under the sink, collecting the medical kit and a glass of water - setting it all down on the table before washing your hands. You pull out a chair beside him, dragging it closer to take a seat.

You tear open an antiseptic wipe and carefully dap it around the gash above his eyebrow, cleaning the bloody skin. "Lucky it doesn't need stitches," you murmur, eyes focused on the wound.

Tangerine doesn't respond, not even a hum - appearing as though he was preoccupied, just intently gazing at you as you mend him. 

You part focus from his eyebrow and sift through the first-aid box. "I'm sorry for hitting you," you whisper, keeping your gaze down. "That was..." you raggedly exhale as you squeeze antibacterial cream onto your index, reaching to smear it on his skin. "That was stupid of me— shouldn't have done it," you shake your head, brushing off the thought.

His head cocks to the side in disapproval. "Don't say that," he softly scolds, his tone still warm and loving. "You don't need to be sorry... for anything."

You slump back into your seat, finally looking Tangerine in the eyes - finally meeting his gaze. "I thought you were dead," you admit, fidgeting with your fingers.

He notices your uneasy hands and places his over yours - large palms engulfing yours, the sentiment immediately comforting you. "I'm okay, darlin', I promise," he says softly, squeezing your hands. "I ain't ever gonna let that happen, okay? Ya'hear me? I will never let that happen."

"But what if when—" 

"No," he cuts you off, his single word firm and gentle. "I will never put you through that."

#request #abbiesrighttoe #tangerine #tangerine angst #tangerine x reader #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine bullet train

[hauntlikeaghost0]

horrible timing | e.m.

eddie munson x henderson!reader

summary: it takes literally being dragged through hell for eddie to be brave enough to admit his feelings to you

warnings: swearing. general st angst. basically fluff. eddie may be a bit ooc, this is my first time writing for him.

a/n: this is inspired by the request from @bde-break-down-energy . i tried to get it as close to what you asked for but i haven’t written in a hot minute so i’m a bit rusty. really hope you like it though!

“this is so stupid. this is so fucking stupid!!” you yell out into the silence of lovers lake, angrily tearing your jacket off your shoulders and throwing it at the panicking boy behind you. nancy had followed a screaming steve into the murky waters just moments ago and robin had instantly followed her. already, the guilt of not selflessly throwing yourself in after them was eating you alive.

“no, no, no, no, no.” eddie mutters behind you, each repetition louder than the last. the boat rocking as he attempts to pace. he’s been on the verge of a breakdown since what occurred in his trailer and this was starting to feel like his last straw. quickly, he puts a firm (but shaking) hand on your shoulder and pulls you to face him. “you are not following them!”

his voice is strained, fear radiating from every part of his existence and for a moment all you can think about is how very far away this eddie is from the slightly unhinged, happy go lucky eddie you had first encountered all that time ago while dropping your brother off to his dnd game. this image almost makes you hesitate.

“i have to!” you shout back. panicking at what could already be happening right below your very feet. “if something happens to them and i didn’t even try to stop it, i couldn’t live with myself, eddie.”

he groans, rolling his eyes. why do you always have to be so stubborn? his mind begins racing, searching for something he could say to make you stay with him right now, to keep you safe. he wishes he could at least hug you, press his lips to yours and savour your presence, but he hasn’t even had the balls to tell you how he feels. he’s standing before a person ready to throw themselves into an unknown alternate dimension to protect their friends and he can’t even tell you he’s had a crush on you ever since he met you, for fear his feelings won’t be reciprocated.

you open your mouth to say something, eyes soft around the edges but face set and determined. his breath hitches in anticipation but all he’s met with is a soft smile before you’re jumping in after your friends.

at the sight your body disappearing into the unknown at the bottom of the lake, eddie’s heart breaks slightly. he’s not good at being heroic, at being brave but the second you’re out of sight he’s already moving towards the side of the boat, taking shallow breaths. he would stupid not to follow you.

as his body hits the cold water, and he forces himself to paddle towards certain danger, he remembers the first time you came to one of his shows. he remembers seeing you in the crowd, how his heart leapt as you bobbed your head along to his songs. he remembers when you sat through the end of his campaign, confusion constantly written on your face but cheering along with everyone else and complimenting his plot. he remembers the hug you gave him after finding him in reefer ricks shed, how you clung to him like you needed him too, like he wasn’t a suspect in a murder case, like he wasn’t even a freak. he would be completely stupid not to follow you.

you let out a yelp as your back collided with solid concrete, groaning and slowly moving to stand. screams echo from ahead of you and before you know it your sprinting towards your friends a measly pocket knife in your hand for protection. the sight of steve’s bleeding bare torso has you grimacing and quickly kneeling down to stick your small blade into the bat-like creature with its tail around his neck. with each monster you and your friends fend of, it seems another one appears and you worry you’re just too outnumbered.

heart hammering in your chest, you push your knife into another creature, yelping as it struggles beneath you. grunts and gasps can be heard from around each of your friends, wild curses pouring from robin. how many times will you be caught in these life or death situations before hawkins finally gets tired of torturing you?

shakily rising to stand, you free your blade from the demobats slimy flesh. head turning wildly as more beasts come into view. for a second the light of hope dims inside you, maybe we won’t make it out this time? maybe this is one supernatural occurance too far? however, lighter fluid is quickly poured over your dying flame as you see a wild head of curly hair storming it’s way towards you.

eddie grips the boats ore in his hand and you take a moment to appreciate how attractive he looks with his hellfire t shirt soaked through, hair disheveled and gaze determined before you have to snap back into action. he instantly begins smacking vecna’s guard dogs down, along with the rest of the group, and soon enough you’ve done enough damage to make a run for it.

nancy takes the lead, everyone on her heals until they reach the shelter of skull rock.

in an instant eddie is by your side, turning you to face him again and scanning his eyes over you intensely, searching for injury. you raise a shaking hand as if to say ‘ta da!’ and mutter out a quiet but resounding. “i’m fine.”

he breathes out a sigh of relief and collapses back to lean against the curve of the rock. “fuck me, i’m so glad you’re not dead.”

you laugh and follow his movements allowing your head to loll to the side and rest on his shoulder. it feels so trivial to grin at the butterflies filling your stomach as he leans his head atop yours, given your situation, but the comfort you find in his presence is enough for you not to care.

it’s hard to pin point when you realised you’d started to fall for eddie. your friendship with him came so unintentionally that having proper feelings for him felt so impossible you must have denied it for ages. maybe it was that one time he smiled at you at one of his gigs, super wide and childlike, like he’d never been happier in his entire life and you almost choked on your drink with how taken aback you were by the feeling flooding your chest. actually, it was definitely then. that when you realised you’d probably die for eddie munson.

a ring clad hand intertwines with yours and squeezes, you look up at him expectantly. he nods towards the rest of the group. “we’re moving again.”

you begin to take a step and feel eddie’s grip loosen slightly. with a pause you shift your hands together again, holding on tightly. “can you just keep hold?” you ask him quietly. “just a little bit longer.”

his heart clenches in his chest and he smiles reassuringly, tilting his head in a slight bow. “as long as you like.”

eddies mind is so thoroughly engrossed in how tender your being with him he hardly has a moment to be surprised at the fact nancy wheeler has guns. when you’d rested your head on his shoulder he’d felt his heart swell. your weight was secure and steady against him. despite him being no hero, no knight in shining armour, you still turned to him to hold you steady, to be your rock. he was proud of that. when you’d asked him to keep hold of your hand he almost cried at how small you seemed, how timid. this big personality he was so used to being surrounded by was exhausted by this battle they were fighting and under any situation he never could deny you. so he just managed to follow along as they plotted their way to nancy’s house, distracted by the security of your hand in his.

when the first earthquake hit you instantly gripped onto eddie, hands grasping his shirt as his armed wrapped around your side and you both fell to the ground, your head in his chest and his elbows in the dirt. it took a few moments for you to look up, instead keeping your eyes screwed shut for a minute your head against eddie as you waited for your chest to stop heaving. since the events of the last few years every sudden movement makes you flinch so you aren’t surprised the earthquake shakes you up a bit. eddie’s hand runs once, twice down your back. “you’re okay.” he tells you. “it’s okay.”

after that he watches you like a hawk. his hand stays firmly in yours, thumb rubbing over the back at random intervals, quick to grab a hold of you and any nearby solid object each time a new earthquake hits. he takes a moment to realise this is the most you’ve ever touched. you’ve been friends for a while but you’d never been close like this. he’d never touched the small of your back before, never felt the curve of your spine, never even wrapped his hand around your bicep. and thought this isn’t the situation he always imagined that happening he would be ungrateful not to appreciate it anyway.

as you finally reach nancy’s house some of the tension loosens in you, though maybe you’d play scared just a little bit longer if it meant eddie would keep holding you in that way. as you step over the threshold you expect to feel relief but feel a sharp shiver crawl up your spine as you see the wheeler’s warm and welcoming house being infested by the upside down.

“are you cold?” eddie’s voice draws your attention for the nightmarish scene. you run a hand down your arm and feel the scattering of goosebumps. you suppose the absolute terror had distracted you from the chill temperature.

“i guess,” you say and then instantly regret your words as you watch eddie begin to shrug off his jacket. you take a step away from him, holding a hand out to refuse his offer but he just knocks it out the way.

“don’t try and fight it.” he says stepping close and laying the warm leather over your shoulders. in any other situation, you might resist a little bit longer but the weight of the jacket is so comforting and as you slowly slide your arms into the slightly too long sleeves, you’re enveloped in eddies scent. it’s cigarettes, a hint of weed and something you assume must be sandalwood.

he pulls on the lapels so it’s tighter over your front and his eyes sparkle beautifully. “looks good on you.”

you only roll your eyes and follow the rest of the group further into the house for fear your blush will grow even brighter. however, you just make it to the bottom of the stairs when you realise eddie is no longer beside you. panic instantly rises in your throat and you turn on your heel quickly. you are forced to pause when you realise he’s still with you, stopped just a few paces behind.

“what’s going on?” you say, anxiety clear in your voice, slowly walking towards him as though something terrible was about to be revealed to you.

“nothing.” he says quickly, rushing to calm you. “nothing to do with this.” he gestures grandly to the hideous sight around him, the silver on his hands glinting in the dim light.

you step closer, pushing him to explain.

he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose (a tad dramatically). “this is terrible timing.” he says dejectedly and it’s true. this confession had been on the tip of his tongue for about a month now, growing closer and closer to spilling over each time you touched him, each time you looked at him, each time you were near him. and of all those times he chooses now. not that time he almost said it at hellfire club, or at the record store or even on stage at one of his shows. no, he finally grows the balls to tell you whilst searching for weapons to fight of monsters in an alternate dimension. 

he takes a deep breath. “i …. like you.” the words drop from his mouth slowly, like they were completely foreign to him. your brow furrows, does he know you have feelings for him? is he about to reject you? tell you you’re better as friends? you open your mouth to explain but he cuts you off.

“like really, really like you. like lose sleep at night thinking about you and how much i like you.” you feel you’re cheeks heating fast and a smile forms instinctively. “not in a weird way or anything!” he clarifies. “i just think you’re so…” he searches for the word, “so beautiful. and i know your henderson’s sister and that’s kind of weird. but when i look at you i just want to smile and it’s cliche and gross and i kind of hate myself right now but…. but i’m just so, i don’t know, giddy when i’m around you.” he shakes his whole body as though to demonstrate and then abashedly brings a previously shaken hand to the back of his neck, looking up at you from under his lashes. “i don’t know” he sighs. “all i know is that if anything bad happens to one of us today and i hadn’t told you that i’d feel pretty fucking pathetic.”

you laugh. it’s a sharp, short laugh that tore through you. and you can’t tell whether it’s shock, or relief or sheer happiness that elicited the sound but it makes eddie stiffen. you fail to notice. smile so wide your cheeks begin to hurt. his gaze is steady on you, nervously awaiting a reaction.

“i really, really like you too.”

he’s right, as the words fall from your lips with timing does seem incredibly obscene but you’re too happy to care. you step towards him and raise a hand to his cheek, gripping it tenderly.

“god, eddie. i like you so much.”

his whole body seems to relax and that famous smile spreads quickly across his face. that stupidly beautiful smile that made you realise you wanted this boy to be all yours. this beautifully deranged boy.

“you do?”

eddie’s voice is shy and almost completely unfamiliar. you only nod in response, eyes taking in his every feature. now that your reciprocated feelings are clarified you want to do everything you had always imagined; like run your fingers through his hair, play with the rings on his fingers and kiss that pretty smile off his face.

naturally, you go with the latter.

due to the wide smiles on your faces, the first collision of your lips isn’t perfect. it’s a bit too teethy and you keep letting happy giggles slip through. but, after a pause to collect yourself, you press one slow kiss onto his lips, arms over his shoulders. you move to pull back but his hands find your hips and grip them tightly, pulling you back towards him. your knees weaken and your lips meet his once more. you fit together slowly, lips moulding and pulling apart, the trace of his tongue and the nip of his teeth. you have a newfound motive to make it out of this hell hole alive, if being kissed like this by eddie is what awaits on the other side.

when you finally pull apart, he smiles down at your, raising a hand to push a strand of hair behind your ear.

“when we get out of this shit hole, i’m going to take you on the best date of your life.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things 4 #stranger things imagines #eddie munson fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #robin buckley

[thebookbutterfly]

Hey there! Could you possibly write a Sandor Clegane x gender neutral reader where Sandor has a soft spot for reader and reader feels the same? He tries to hide it but one day reader get’s hurt and he patches them up and maybe confessions come out?

🦋 Little Bird— Sandor Clegane x gn!Reader

Summary: You get injured in an ambush. Sandor carries you to safety and takes care of you.

Tags: #so much hurt/comfort, #a teensy bit of angst, #fluffy ending, #potentially OOC Sandor Clegane but personally I think he is pretty baby girl, #request

Warnings: Gender Neutral, no use of Y/N, descriptions of blood and injury, mentions of death, cannon compliant threats of violence, no beta and no ‘ragrets' [1,371 words]

AN: This is a request by @agender-wolfie. I really hope that this is what you were looking for! It came out a bit longer than I intended, but I am such a sucker for hurt/comfort tropes I really shouldn’t be surprised lmao. I wrote this all in one sitting and I haven’t done any editing so please excuse any errors. Happy reading! 🦋 Love BB

If you like this work my requests are currently open! So please give me your ideas ;)

You hissed a curse, gravelly and threadbare, as Sandor sidestepped another fallen tree.

A jumble of vulgar expressions that barely registered to you as they left your mouth. Almost all of them taught to you by the giant man holding you to his chest. The hound cradled you surprisingly gently, but his tension was evident. It was written all over him.

His scarred face, which you so rarely got the opportunity to study, was pulled into a broken grimace. The rest of him taut like a wire ready to snap beneath his armour. If you weren’t bleeding all over him, you might have reached up to prod the furrow of his brow. A silly attempt to smooth away Sandor’s permanent scowl.

The thought shattered as another wave pain tore through your ribs. Every bump in the path sowing fresh agony in the ruined skin and muscle.

Sandor ran a calloused thumb over the side of your knee in apology. Uttering clumsy noises of comfort as he picked up the pace.

“We’re almost there. Hold on just a bit longer, little bird.”

His gruff voice was cut with a noticeable amount of panic. Your brow scrunched at the unusual sound. You had gotten used to many things about Sandor as you travelled North with him. His rough sense of humour, bitter attitude, scarred face and huge stature were familiar to you by now. Underneath those things, his kindness and his softheartedness had become apparent to you too.

All the vulnerable pieces of himself that he smothered and choked beneath layers of vulgar humour and recklessness, had been presented to you in glimpses as you got to know him. But panic? Panic was new to you.

The farmhouse that Sandor had marked out in the distance finally drew into view. Up close it was a measly grey thing. The stone masonry looked haphazard at best but its chimney puffed with life. Behind it a barn lay with its doors open and rattling in the freezing wind.

You expected Sandor to head straight for the shelter of the barn but instead he strode to the front door. The family of four, seated around the dining room table inside, scrambled back as he slammed open the door with his usual subtlety. Which was to say— none at all.

You groaned as the sudden movement jostled your wound. Normally you would have chastised him for being so rude but your head was swimming. Too weak to lift your hand, you focused your energy on your eyes. Willing them to stay open, if not for your sake then for the sake of your worried companion.

An old man stepped forward to speak but Sandor cut him off, “One of you better be a healer, because if they die I will mount all of your heads outside on sticks.”

It was an ugly threat and they paled. The youngest boy whimpered looking suddenly ill. A younger woman with dark hair and a generous smattering of freckles stepped forward. She gestured a slightly shaky hand towards the table before him, before turning to her family.

“Clear the table, quickly. We can lay them down here,” her attention shifted back to the massive man standing in the doorway, “I’m not a healer by profession but I’ll do everything I can.”

Sandor seemed pleased enough by this answer. The rest of the family had been wise enough not to put up a fight and so Sandor stepped forward. He eased his grip and lay you down on the hastily cleared surface.

He moved to step away and let this stranger do her work but you whimpered. Fingertips clutching at air until he shifted back into reach.

A leather belt was stuffed between your teeth as your tunic was torn up the side. Unfamiliar hands grasped at your arms and legs. Holding you down with a bruising grip. All the while, Sandor brushed his bloodied fingers over your forehead and through your hair. The warmth of his skin a small consolation for the pain you were about to endure.

The woman lifted a needle and thread. With a glance at Sandor and his affirming nod she began to count down and you closed your eyes, unable to look.

Three.

Two.

One.

Fire. Your body was on fire. You arched off the table. Trying to escape the agony, the needle slowly piecing your flesh back together. The table shook as you thrashed but the hands holding you down didn’t falter. Sandor’s gravely words of comfort were the last things ringing in your ears as the world went black.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The first thing that you noticed when you woke up was the lack of pain. Your side still ached, the wound tender, but it was a dull throbbing now. No longer, the screaming torture it was as Sandor carried you away from where you were ambushed.

The second was the warmth. You couldn’t remember the last time you had been this warm since you and Sandor had journeyed across the border into the North. Sandor.

You opened your eyes slowly. The lighting was dim but from what you could tell you were inside the barn. The door was closed now though and soft orange candlelight illuminated the space.

You lay on your good side underneath a thick layer of blankets, and next to you lay the man your eyes sought for. His arm tucked you to him, large calloused hand resting somewhere on your lower back.

His heart thudded rhythmically beneath where your head lay on his chest. His even breathing and faint snores filled the quiet. Despite your inner protests it was the most comfortable you had been in years.

You gazed up at him, not wanting to wake him just yet. Sandor didn’t sleep nearly enough and you were content to watch the way the candlelight danced across his skin. It caught on his scarred cheek. Shadows flickering on the panes of his face.

Unable to resist you lifted a hand to his cheek. Your touch was featherlight but his eyes snapped open. Sandor’s gaze flicked to you immediately. Scanning you for distress and finding none, his body relaxed.

“Seven Hells, I thought you were going to die. Never do that again,” he said gruffly. His cheeks were flushed but he made no move to shift away from you.

Your voice was cracked from screaming but you still managed to mumble, “M’Sorry.”

Sandor sighed, “It wasn’t your fault, little bird.” He reached into his pack and pulled out a water-skein. Unscrewing the top he held it out towards you.

“Here, drink. Then you can go back to sleep,” he said.

“Thank you.”

The moisture eased the pain in your throat and soon you were snuggled back up under Sandor’s arm. The wind howled through the rafters and you both sat in silence for a little while.

Your thoughts broke the quiet, “Thank you for carrying me here. Thank you for staying.”

Sandor’s eyes met yours, they were unguarded and soft in a way that seemed reserved for you. Reserved for these conversations in the dark.

His voice was low as he replied, “I would have carried you to the ends of the earth, little bird.”

You studied him, the scars that mottled his skin, the cut on his brow and the curl of his mouth. Something deep within you settled, like a cat stretching out on a rug.

“You’re a good man, Sandor Clegane,” you said.

The conviction in your voice hit him harder than any blow on the battlefield ever had. The tidal wave of emotions that followed threatened to take him under but he swallowed them down.

You pretended not to notice his watery eyes and he lifted his spare hand to stroke your head. “Go to sleep, I’ll keep you safe.”

You nodded sleepily, too tired to fight it off any longer. A few seconds pass before you feel it. The soft press of his lips on your forehead. They linger there for a while before he pulls back, the warmth that they leave behind searing like a brand on your skin. You smile as you drift off, lulled to sleep by his warm embrace and steady breathing.

“Goodnight, little bird.”

#bbrequestlist #sandor clegane x reader #sandor x reader #sandor clegane #sandor the hound clegane #got #game of thrones #sandor clegane x you #the hound #tyrion lannister #sansa stark #oberyn x reader #prince oberyn #no use of y/n #hurt/comfort #whump #request #banners by cafekitsune

[tired-teacher-blog]

Characters : Tattoo artist Aizawa/ Florist fem reader

Featuring : Eri/ Hizashi Yamada/ Nemuri Kayama/ Oboro Shirakumo/ Emi Fukukado

Warnings and Genre : Fluff/ Romance/ Smut and Angst in future chapters/ Multi Chaptered Story

Summary : In a desperate attempt to get closer to the tattoo artist dominating every speck of your brain, you decide to pay him a visit one evening as a client seeking his service. This encounter will prove to be the beginning of something much bigger between you two, but will this new found passion be enough to stand against the difficulties your future holds?

Notes : Loosely inspired by this/ Art below is by the wonderful @/ael-draw who gifted me this gorgeous piece.

Masterlist|Second Masterlist|Third Masterlist

Chapter Count : Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9 • Part 10 • Part 11

_ "Eri says hi, we're on our way to school now."

You hold the phone closer to your ear, smiling fondly as he speaks, and picturing them stroll their way there hand in hand while he carries her cute little school bag over his shoulder.

_ "Tell her I miss her." you reply immediately with warmth filling up your heart.

_ "Just her? What about her father?" and you can feel the smirk lacing his words.

_ "Of course I miss you Shouta, very much." you breathe out longingly, wishing you could see him right at this instance.

_ "Me too beautiful, I'll see you tonight." and with that, you both say your goodbyes and hang up your phones.

Hours later, and his voice still plays in your brain like a sweet melody, and that same wide smile still refuses to leave you, only a little bit more until you see him.

Time couldn't possibly go any slower when you're awaiting for the moment to be with him, and you rarely ever do on weekdays due to your conflicting schedules, but fortunately you were able to work something out for today and decided to have dinner together in the studio between his appointments, it's not much, but it's more than you can ask for..

_ "Hello." a delicate voice interrupts your thoughts, and your head immediately snaps towards its source.

_ "Hello ma'am, welcome." oh, she's beautiful.

The clicking of her expensive beige heels pierces the calm and resonates across the walls as she steps inside while uttering amusedly, "what a nice atmosphere you have here."

_ "Thank you ma'am, you are more than welcome to take a look around." you have never seen her before, so perhaps she's here for a visit?

She's truly gorgeous, and elegant too, and you're now wondering what could her story be.

_ "So I want to buy a bouquet but I'm not sure exactly what to get, everything here looks gorgeous." she's taking a tour of the shop while speaking, her eyes study the blooms carefully before shifting her gaze your way.

_ "I'm glad you like what you see," you offer her a genuine smile, "I can help you choose, you see each flower and each rose carries a different meaning, so if you have a message that's hard to convey, you can pick a flower that helps with that."

She blinks a few times while hearing you speak before breaking into laughter, "but isn't that a bit too much to ask of a measly plant?"

Your body tenses up as you did not expect to hear such words from someone who has willingly walked into your shop, but maybe she didn't mean to offend you.

_ "Not at all ma'am, if the person receiving the bouquet is someone who likes flowers, then your message wilI surely come across." your smile is now forced, and your palms are starting to sweat as you strive to remain collected.

_ "I never thought they liked them but maybe I was wrong," her eyes are casting a darkness that you cannot for the life of you decipher, "well then, which one says I'm sorry?" her attention is back to the colorful roses.

_ "White roses or white tulips are the perfect ones for that, they express sincere apologies and seeking forgiveness, offering them to someone signifies the desire to start anew." you gesture towards the flowers you're describing and watch as she approaches them slowly.

_ "Alright then, I'll have ten of each."

_ "Of course ma'am." you quickly run to the blossoms and start cutting them carefully, counting in your head so you wouldn't miscalculate the lady's order.

_ "So how long have you been running this business?"

Her question catch you off guard, and you almost miscount the white blooms in front of you, "oh, I've been here for almost a year," you turn her way for a second as you reply, before returning to the work at hand.

You walk back to your counter with twenty delicate whites in your arms, smiling again at the lady before starting to carefully organize them in a bouquet.

_ "What about you ma'am? Are you here visiting someone? Perhaps the lucky person who will receive these?" you try to soften the mood as you ask.

_ "Yeah, that's why I'm here, I need to clear things up with someone." her voice is monotone and for some reason it's making you a little uncomfortable.

_ "I'm sure everything will go well ma'am, this bouquet will be an ideal ice breaker." even with your unexplained uneasiness, you still give her a warm smile.

_ "You think so? You must have a lot of faith in your flowers then." she scoffs with a role of her eyes that you did not need to witness.

_ "Uhm well.. I do, and I hope I'm right." you have never felt this anxious with a customer before, but you have to remain calm and cheerful regardless.

_ "What a cute tattoo." she exclaims with a nod of her head.

_ "Oh, thank you, yeah it's really dear to me." somehow, for some reason, you've always found solace in your tattoo, and you're almost certain it's the thought of him that brings you comfort rather than the tattoo itself, in any case, it's working yet again.

The woman remains silent after that, and you can almost feel her piercing stare digging holes in your whole body.

_ "Here you go ma'am, it's wrapped and ready, I hope you like it." you carefully pick up the bouquet, mindful of the graceful blooms as you hand them to the woman in front of you.

_ "Thank you." she holds it in one arm and hands you her credit card with the other.

It's almost over, she's almost out of your shop and you're almost breathing easily again.

_ "Thank you for your purchase ma'am and have a nice day." you bow your head slightly while returning her card.

The annoyingly loud click of her heels is finally heading away as she walks towards the door, and you allow yourself to heave a sigh of relief.

_ "Oh by the way, say hi to Shouta for me." and that irked expression she had on since earlier, is now replaced with an amused one as she closes the door after herself.

… What?

Shouta.. Shouta.. , she called him Shouta, not Aizawa like most people do, why? Who is she exactly? How does she know him? Was her coming to your shop intentional?

You feel like a fool, she was obviously mocking you until the very end, and for some reason you know that it isn't over.

Shouta.. who is she to you? Is she a friend? A family member? A client?

Countless questions battle within your brain as you freeze in place for God knows how long..

To be continued..

#aizawa shota x reader #aizawa x y/n #aizawa shouta smut #aizawa x you #aizawa shota smut #aizawa fluff #aizawa shouta x you #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa headcanons #aizawa smut #aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa imagine #shouta aizawa x you #shouta aizawa headcanons #shouta aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa smut #aizawa shouta fluff #aizawa shouta #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction

[treasuringizu]

-empty night

⇝ izuku midoriya x reader | fluff / sprinkle of angst | izuku midoriya being a dork

⇝ word count: 1.2k

⇝ a/n: it's like i can't write any drabbles less than 1k now😭

⇝ synopsis: izuku is late to your date, but when he shows up you can't help but forgive him.

it’s 9:45 p.m when you look at the clock for probably the thousandth time in the past two hours. he was supposed to be here at 7:30.

you check your phone, and you see notifications from socials, one from your friend, and random apps — but none from the person you want to see the most.

the nice waiter that’s been serving you (you pretend you don’t see his pity glances) refills your glass of water, taking your empty plate of fries. when you check your phone again and there’s still nothing there, you decide that’s when it’s time for you to finally leave instead of hoping for him to show up.

and then you’re walking down the sidewalk, shivering because you forgot to bring a coat, and wallowing in your own sadness. well, a mixture of sadness, disappointment, and maybe anger.

you’ve checked all the news cites to see if anything serious had happened to him, called and texted the man in question but received no answer, and you even called his own friends to try and figure out what was going on, but you got nothing. you just hope that he’s okay at least, and that he had a good reason for standing you up — one that hopefully did not involve any violence.

you’re checking your phone again, dumbly wanting there to be something new like it could have happened in less than a minute, when you see the crackle of green lighting in the night sky.

deku.

izuku.

he lights the darkness up with his quirk, piercing through the sky with god-like speed. you're watching him as he descends to the ground, landing in his stance a few meters in front of you. you blink, and then all you can see is a blur of green as he breaks into a full-on sprint — on the fucking sidewalk.

you can feel your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline, and you know your jaw is on the ground as you watch the pro hero you’re in love with run past you, your clothes flapping in the gush of wind as a result of his speed, fallen leaves flying randomly.

he’s long behind you now, and your brain doesn’t even process anything that just happened as you blink slowly, mouth still open to catch flies. it’s only when you hear his footsteps coming back this way that you turn around, and there he is, jogging towards you. his pace has decreased, enough that you can see him clearly and not just a blur of green lighting.

he’s looking around, searching for something as he continues, and then he spots you. you manage to get your mouth closed by the time he’s almost in front of you, slowing down until he’s standing before you.

you’re staring at him as he wipes sweat from his forehead. he doesn't even look tired from his whole ass marathon, but he’s all disheveled; his curly hair is sticking up in all different places, probably from the flight and then the fucking sprinting, his clothes are wrinkled, and his eyes are wide.

he tries to straighten his appearance — dusting off his shirt and pants, running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to fix it, but the action only makes it worse. his mouth opens and closes multiple times like a fish, trying to find the words to say when all that comes out is a measly- “hi!”

the greeting is accompanied by a sheepish smile that falters when all he gets in return is a frown from you. your mouth opens, but you don’t even get anything out before he breaks down into a babbling mess.

“i’m sorry! I’m so, so, so, so, so, so sorry. i really am! you see — a lot happened - i was in my meeting, counting down the minutes until i could get out of there to finally go and see you, it was all i was looking forward to the entire day, really. but then, the meeting ran over and i tried — i really tried to get my way out of there but you know how they are, so it didn’t work no matter what i did. and when the meeting finally ended, it was already a little late so i rushed home to change and get ready for you, i wanted to look nice and stuff, but i was already a little late. i forgot to call or at least text you through all that drama,”

his hands are now waving all around him in animated gestures as he continues, “by then i was like an hour late, and by the time i was halfway to the restaurant i realized that i had forgotten my phone at the agency so i couldn’t even contact you. and thennn as i was flying, this lady was calling out for help, so of course, i rushed to help her, only for it to end up being her cat stuck in a tree. i tried to get it over with as soon as possible but then she cornered me and practically forced me into her house to give me some coffee as thanks, and i didn't have the heart to tell her that i absolutely hate coffee so i forced it all down. when i left her house it was already dark and i knew that i was beyond late to our date and again, i'm so, so, so, sorry about that even though i know all of this isn't a good excuse for standing you up. i just - i,"

izuku stops in the middle of his sentence, shocked when you wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head on his chest and effectively putting a stop to his ramblings.

you breathe him in, nuzzling your cheek against his body, admiring his scent and relishing in his presence. he says your name in a soft murmur, wrapping his own arms around you, the weight strong and heavy.

"i'm glad you're okay," you say.

his head settles on top of yours. "i'm sorry."

"you should be." he tenses, and you think he's about to remove his arms from around you but you squeeze him tighter, smiling into his chest. "only you would stand me up for a grandma. she better have been hot.”

he huffs through his nose in a laugh. “you’re definitely hotter.”

your heart warms, and all the feelings you had earlier melt into contentment now that he's actually here. "keep up with the compliments and i might just forgive you." you let go of him - grinning at the soft whine he lets out - and instead grab his hand, intertwining it with yours.

"I'm still so, so, sorry though. i never meant to leave you there like that."

your hands are swinging back and forth, and you look at him to see him frowning at his shoes like they personally offended him. giving his hand a chaste kiss that makes his cheeks bloom in pink, you reassure him, "stop apologizing, dummy. it's okay, i know you didn't do it on purpose. besides, you saved a cat, which earns you some brownie points."

izuku gives you that grin, the one that can make rainy clouds go away. "that's true." he pauses, bending down to give your cheek a kiss. "i love you"

"love you too, stupid."

#izuku x reader #deku x reader #midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #izuku #deku #bnha imagine #izuku imagine #izuku fic #deku fic #.izuku #.fics #.kc writes

[redriotinggg]

I'm giving you some angst because I was thinking about it and made myself sad and needed to share with someone :') and because we all love Usopp and need to hurt him a little bit lmao

(Established Polycule between Zoro x Sanji x Luffy x Usopp) a situation where they face a devil fruit user who can mess up with their minds, and (maybe they separate them?) one of the things he attacks Usopp with is telling him that his boyfriends don't love him as much as they love each other, or they're not as devoted to him as they are to Luffy. And maybe Usopp brushes it off (with a casual: "is that all you got? I tell myself worse things for breakfast every morning!"), but later after defeating the enemy and when they're partying Usopp cant stop thinking about it and wondering if maybe its true but trying really hard not to show it (maybe with sucess, he is a good liar. Or maybe not so successfully, his boyfriends know him too well)

What happens next? I don't know, I made myself sad and didn't know how to fix it lmao. Maybe a deep conversation to show Usopp they do love him as much, and to not listen to random enemies that try to wage psychological warfare on you?

ZoLuSanUso my beloved!! How dare you do this to me, I love it.

They split into pairs to find the Devil Fruit user: Luffy & Sanji and Zoro & Usopp. The user's power clearly has a wide range--it's affecting them no matter where they go on the island. If it's a psychological power picking on insecurities, Sanji struggles slightly. He has plenty of regrets and deep-rooted issues; scars that may never fully heal. But having Luffy (who is almost completely unaffected) with him and singing his praises, he snaps out of it pretty quickly. Luffy showers him with cuddles n kisses and they go off to go find the asshole who's doing this to them.

Meanwhile, Zoro and Usopp aren't together anymore because surprise, surprise! Zoro got himself lost. He's pissed because 1.) he lost Usopp, which means he can't protect him and 2.) he can already hear the damn cook screeching in his ear for not watching over their precious sniper.

He ends up finding Usopp, who has used his Observation Haki to find the Devil Fruit user. The marksman has him cornered and tells the guy that his attempts at attacking them are pathetic! His crew aren't so weak to be affected by his measly powers. He ends up telling a ridiculous story about having so much negativity stored within him that his insecurities cannot be tampered with by outside forces. It is easily Zoro's least favourite story the sniper has told, so he makes his way over and knocks the guy out, releasing them all of the echoing voices in their heads.

Once the man is slumped on the ground, it's like a weight has been released from Usopp's shoulders. Zoro is surprised by the force with which Usopp launches himself at him, wrapping him in a hug and searching for comfort. With the confident way he'd spoken just moments ago, Zoro thought Usopp might've escaped this encounter unscathed. But with the way he's clinging to him now, it's obvious that whatever he was hearing has shaken him up. Not for the first time, Zoro is genuinely scared by how good Usopp is at hiding his true feelings. Zoro has gotten better at sussing out Usopp's real moods, but it's worrying that the sniper could be hiding at any moment.

By the time Luffy and Sanji find them (which is not much time at all), Usopp has pulled himself together and is acting like nothing's wrong. He's blabbering away as he ties up the Devil Fruit user and presents him to his captain to be dealt with. LuSan can instantly tell that something is off, but they trust Usopp to come to them if and when he needs to.

The time comes later on when the Straw Hats are back on the Sunny, partying as they sail toward the next adventure.

Toward the end of the night, Usopp is leaning against the railing, gazing out into the dark sea, a frown on his face as he's lost in his thoughts.

Sanji's the first to approach--coming with a mug of hot chocolate topped with whipped cream, marshmallows, and cinnamon. Usopp's favourite. Zoro's next, standing on his other side so that their arms are pressed together. Luffy's last, jumping onto Usopp's back and wrapping his limbs around him. They stand in silence, waiting.

"I don't know about you guys, but that guy's power was super effective," Usopp says eventually. "My head got super loud and there were voices telling me that everything I'm scared of is true. But the loudest voice kept telling me that you guys don't love me. Or that you don't love me as much as you love each other. Because I'm not strong or useful enough. Or for one of the million other reasons why you're too good for me."

"You defeated him, though," Zoro reminds him. "You're plenty strong. And useful."

"And none of what he said was true," Sanji adds. "None of us are 'too good for you', Usopp. We love you as you are."

"And that's all there is to it," Luffy concludes. "We all love you! The way I love you is different from how I love Zoro or Sanji. Not less or more. Just different. And it's the same for them," he says definitively, the other two nodding. "So don't listen to that guy. He was mean and stupid! He doesn't know about you or us, but we do, so only listen to what we say, okay?"

Usopp nods, but that's not enough for his captain or their other partners. They squeeze and pinch and tickle him until he laughs, promising aloud that he will believe his boyfriends when they say they love him. They shower him with cuddles and kisses and words of reassurance that he responds to in kind, telling them all how much they mean to him.

By the time the sun begins its ascent, the four of them have forgotten all about their doubts and fears. They're ready to share another day of love and laughter by each other's side.

----

Sappy happy ending because that is the kind of person I am. Thank you for the angst, anon, this was great and I had so much fun!! Everyone else send me asks and prompts I live for them <3

#zolusanuso #lusan #zosopp #sanuso #lusopp #zosan #usopp #this was great fuel for the usopp angst fic I'm writing >:) #but you know i live for love and comfort so that's what we ended on #i mean it yall send me more this fuels me #red's asks #red's writing

[tinietaehyun]

Forsaken [XI]

[Sorcerer!Taehyun x Royal!Reader] [Series] [Chapter Eleven]

Pairing: Sorcerer!Taehyun x Royal!Reader

Genres: Romance, fantasy, royal!au, supernatural, angst, fluff, thriller, enemies to lovers.

Contains: Profanity, mentions of capital punishment, whipping, blood & injury, implication of stabbing.

Links: Forsaken Masterlist || Masterlist

Summary: It was time. Taehyun’s painstaking preparations and your intricate attempts at distracting Prince Beomgyu had all led up to this moment. You really hope your efforts would bear fruit!

Taehyun’s spell teleporting you and him would a large task. You only hope that neither Beomgyu nor Soobin would hinder your plans. Most importantly, you wanted the both of you to get back to the Woods of Mors together, in one piece.

Blood splatters across the cobbled flooring. The once honey-skin is now marred by bloody lines from the whip. The Royal Commander flinches and grunts as the whip flies down time and time again, harsher and harsher upon his bare back. His wrists tied helplessly.

Though the young knight did not regret his actions despite the unbearable pain he was in. Even if his actions helped you gain even just a little more time, he’d do it again in a heartbeat. After all, all he was, was a pitiful coward who couldn’t protect the one he loved. The one he was supposed to serve with his life.

Kai’s eyes rolls back in agony; barely keeping conscious. His blood drips down his torso as he shivers violently. The pain encapsulates his beaten body like an agonising vice. This was his consequence, his punishment for deliberately disobeying orders.

“You are indeed lucky, I have not just had you executed. Purely for the notion that the public would be rather unhappy to know of an execution before my coronation. Furthermore, your lineage is exquisite, for that alone, I am leaving you with a lasting reminder of what happens if you disobey me as your king,” Sehun utters, walking past Hueningkai’s trembling body. He was brought to the brink of death.

A disgusted grimace paints Sehun’s visage, “Hm, warden, make sure the floor is thoroughly scrubbed. It is appalling.”

Sehun crouches down with a dark, twisted gaze, “Do not disobey my orders for your measly feelings towards her again. You will stay in your new home here in the dungeons in the meantime. I’ll let you out when your beloved princess is nothing but a corpse.” Hueningkai hisses in pain; countless tears drip down his bloodied face.

Sehun condescendingly smirks, getting up peering at the surrounding guards, “Get him treated. I don’t want news of him dying from his injuries spreading either. Cut his meals, as you do with other criminals.” He muses, peering at the fallen knight, “You will thank me for my mercy.”

Sehun walks out of the dungeons feeling a new sense of self-satisfaction. Preparations for the coronation were going well, he has been tirelessly working on his public persona and slowly garnering the affections of the public with his speeches and drifting attention away from his no-good run away sibling. He will make a fine king, no doubt.

His eyes meet with his dearest friend who sits on his throne with a playful smile. “Yeonjun?” Yeonjun seems distracted by the luxury and intricacy of the golden throne and tufted cushions; his eyes twinkling with desire.

Sehun’s eyes narrow briefly, “Get off my throne.” Yeonjun muses, “My, are you offended that I sat on it? It’s very comfortable you know.” Sehun scoffs, “You know it’s forbidden for non-nobles to sit on it. Do not test me, I am already going through quite the trouble.”

Yeonjun’s eyes twinkle mischievously, “Come now, your highness. I merely jest. This throne is for you and you alone. I was just curious to see your reaction and you did not disappoint.” Sehun rolls his eyes, “You and your games.”

The sorcerer grins, “How is the Commander? Still alive?” Sehun chuckles sitting on the throne, “Barely, but I took into consideration your idea of not killing him. It would only backfire. As wise as always, my friend. This punishment should scar him for a lifetime.”

Yeonjun hums, placing his arms behind his back, “Well, a good whipping never fails.” Sehun hums exasperated, “How was the meeting with the barons and chancellors?”

“As boring as always…” Yeonjun begins and he hums lowly, “Though there are still a few who doubt your ability to rule. They are still concerned about y/n.” Sehun’s grip on the armrests of the throne tighten, “If only I could get rid of those aristocratic pests. Who do they think they are?”

Yeonjun murmurs amused, “A new concern has raised on your ability to catch a mere noblewoman, then how are you able to carry out any decree with sufficient strength and power?” Sehun’s eye twitches as anger and paranoia flood through him. He cannot lose support from the Royal Court at any cost.

Yeonjun peers down smiling almost blissfully at Sehun who tightens his jaw. His heart races. “There are some of your subjects and some journalists who also wish to know of the whereabouts and status of the Princess.” More fear and anxiety flood through Sehun’s system.

The sorcerer frowns, “My, your highness. You look pale. My apologies, you have already spent the last few weeks delirious and under spirits and here I am making you feel worse!” Sehun grits his teeth, “Halt your apologies. I…” His hands shake slightly trying to compose himself.

“No matter, the date of my coronation is approaching and that is all that matters. Once I am king, no one can say anything. My word is law. If I have to act as a tyrant, so be it. If the people accept me as I am, then I shall be a kind ruler.” Sehun mutters, rubbing his forehead distressed.

Yeonjun smiles slyly, “Indeed, I see no fault in your reasoning, your highness. No noble can be purely good. You must adapt accordingly to your subjects and court. It brings me joy to see you grow into a fine nobleman, Sehun.”

Sehun clears his throat, appeased by his friend’s words. “How is everything else, I heard you insisted on checking the budgets for this month? I was not aware you had an interest in accounting?”

Yeonjun hums, “I do not, I was merely interested in the manner in which the finance is handled within the palace. The treasurer is a wise man indeed, even, I almost lost my wits at the scrolls of calculations.” Sehun chuckles, “It is but natural.”

Yeonjun hums, peering at the intricacy of the throne with great admiration, “Do not fret your highness, everything will proceed smoothly.” He murmurs bowing, “After all, I am by your side. As your beloved friend, I would never go against you.”

Sehun nods, “I know you wouldn’t. Unlike the other fools around here, you know your place. You are truly wise, someone worthy of my time.”

“Thank you, your highness. It’s an honour as always,” Yeonjun smiles.

“Oh, and about y/n. I shall sort her out, you merely do your regular duties. Leave everything to me, your highness. As always, I am by your side,” Yeonjun expresses fervently.

Sehun eases up, “Do as you wish. My mood has faltered.” Paranoia floods through Sehun’s body. There is no way y/n could come to stop him. Right? Yeonjun will take care of it. He was ever so capable.

Yeonjun murmurs with a coy smile, “Do not be so sour, your highness. I believe only good things will come your way.” Yeonjun’s eyes glimmer as he peers at the crown on Sehun’s head, “After all, with power like yours. Who could possibly look down on you?”

“Well said,” Sehun murmurs. Yeonjun bows once more before retreating with a dark expression.

Yeonjun’s footsteps clatter amongst the hallways; he’d have to continue to keep an eye on that pesky princess. Otherwise all his years of hard work would be undone. Yeonjun did not want her to enter Fortuna before Sehun’s coronation. Security around the palace has unfortunately increased making him become frustrated.

“Mm…Sehun, Sehun, how pitiful you are.” Yeonjun hums barely above a whisper. With every task Sehun unloads on Yeonjun, it is a boon. Yeonjun took pride in playing the prince like a puppet on strings. After all, he’d make sure the upcoming coronation would be quite the spectacle. A breathy laugh escapes his lips. How could the prince be so naive?

As Sehun would hate to admit it, all the ideas and suggestions he’s implemented came from Yeonjun. Yeonjun peers at his reflection on the marble floor with a dreary sigh. Oh, how fine he would look with a decadent crown on his head. A smirk laces his lips. Oh, how fine indeed.

It was only a matter of time.

————

“Today’s the day, sweetheart. I’ve got everything we need and I’ve recited the enchantment over and over again. It should work. I’ve tried it on small items and it seems to work well,” Taehyun hums as he walks beside you.

You nod with a frown, “It has to work,” you drawl with an exasperated sigh, “Beomgyu is so draining to be around. I feel bored by the pitiful tasks he pushes onto me regarding our so called betrothal. He’s so…ugh!” You huff.

A chuckle escapes the sorcerer beside you, “Just put up with him a little longer. Just until this evening, okay? We’ve got this.” He snickers, “Is he that unbearable, princess? Come now, was he not ever so charming?” Rolling your eyes, you scoff, “Very funny, Taehyun. But…I just want to go home. Back to Fortuna. Get things back in line.” His expression softens briefly and he nods, “And you will. I’ll make sure of it.”

You frown, “Are you sure you have enough mana to teleport the both of us?” Taehyun’s eyes flicker with subtle unease and he shakes his head with a cocky smile, “Do not forget I am of the Kang Family lineage. Anyway, I can bypass that issue. So it’s fine.”

You pout, “Of course you’re skilled it’s just…you have never tried it with two people. I’m worried if you get hurt. Or…or if only one of us gets teleported.” Genuine worry fills your visage and he gives you a smirk, “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Leave everything to me. Just keep your little Prince Charming there occupied for me, okay? Away from the sorcerer’s chamber.”

You inquire, “Does Soobin know what you’re up to?” Taehyun muses, “Initially he was rather confused, but after these last few days I think he’s put together the pieces. Although, he doesn’t know it’s our way of escape. At the end of the day he is the Prince’s lapdog.” You sigh, “Do not be rude to your friend. I’m sure he means well.”

Taehyun scoffs, “He is sweet of course but the last thing I want is him blabbering our plans and demolishing our chances of escape.” You nod in agreement; Taehyun was being rational.

“Anyway, I’ll apologise later or something through a letter.” You let out a very unnoble snort taking him by surprise and he laughs, “Goodness, I wasn’t aware you were capable of laughing in such a manner, princess.” You smile at him bashfully; his teasing gaze makes your heart flutter and feel warm inside. “Well, perhaps you are the only person to see me in such a state.”

You find yourself staring at his pretty features and as your eyes scan down; your eyes widen, catching glint of a gold object glittering under the candlelight of the lit hallways. Your ring. On his neck?

“My ring…you formed a necklace?” Your heart palpitates; finding yourself breathless. Taehyun’s eyes widen as he tucks the hanging ring under his shirt and clears his throat awkwardly, “It’s nothing. I just, it’s worth a lot so I didn’t want to lose it. Not just for its material value or anything, you did say I could keep it as a souvenir or something.”

You peer at him with a wide smile, “Thank you for keeping it safe.” Taehyun is taken aback by your gorgeous smile, feeling his cheeks grow into a flustered shade of subtle red. “Really, it was just so I didn’t lose the ring. Don’t t-think too much into it,” he scoffs, averting his gaze.

Rolling your eyes, “Of course. Hm, you can be rather cute sometimes, and here I thought you tossed it carelessly into that worn-out satchel of yours.”

Taehyun huffs, “I’m not an imbecile to throw such a valuable thing aside carelessly. I’m not heartless, you know?” You grin, “I’m aware. You’re rather soft inside. A big heart, you have got.”

A scoff escapes his lips, “Whatever, anyway. Keep the pretty boy entertained. As I stated before, meet me in the sorcerer’s tower today by the sunset. Sharp.”

“Beomgyu knows that I’m leaving today, right?” Taehyun asks. You nod, “I told him, we made up a day or two ago. I told him earlier this morning you were planning to leave this evening and I wanted to send you off.”

“He wasn’t suspicious or anything?” Taehyun murmurs. You shake your head, “No, he was fine with the idea. In fact he was overjoyed.” Taehyun grunts irritated, “Of course that obnoxious fuck would be happy with me leaving.” Your eyes widen and he scoffs, “Anyway, follow the plan. Act normal.” You huff, “I know, don't underestimate me.”

“Not underestimating you princess, just want you to be safe,” he hums brushing up past you with a serious expression, “Our lives could very well be on the line tonight.” You nod, “Understood.”

He walks away but not without peering his head over his shoulder and giving you a final snarky smirk and finally walking off.

Everything was slowly setting in place and nerves wrack your body. Absolutely everything had to work out! Otherwise the both of you had to be doomed. Ironically, you’d feel safer back in Fortuna, especially in the Woods of Mors, where not many would dare to traverse.

Images of Taehyun flash in your mind as a warmth permeates your body. You felt safe with Taehyun. He was intelligent, witty and most of all far more capable than you were. You trusted him to be by your side. You would have never thought you two would be like this when you first met his arrogant self in the woods.

With a determined expression you stride through the hallways back to return to Beomgyu’s side. For yourself, for Taehyun, for Kai and most importantly for your people. You would succeed no matter what.

————

Taehyun wipes the sweat off his brow as he finishes the last of the preparations on the floor of the sorcerers’ chamber. The chalk mana circle is fully drawn with the appropriate lines shapes and intricate symbols. Taehyun peers out the small window seeing the golden hues of the sky as the sun melts into the horizon. A shaky sigh escapes his lips.

“Taehyun, this isn’t a mere spell casting experiment. Tell me the truth,” Soobin utters with a frustrated expression. “You’ve kept me in the dark for long enough. I’m beginning to get worried you have other intentions.”

A small laugh escapes Taehyun’s lips, “I’ll humour you then, Soobin.” Soobin murmurs, “You’re planning to leave aren’t you?”

Taehyun stiffens, he’d put it together that quickly, huh? “You’re correct,” Taehyun muses, beginning to place candles around the circle and the various prisms and orbs in the correct positions.

“With Princess Y/n,” Soobin resumes tensely. “Well you’re not a fool, clearly you’re aware,” Taehyun dryly hums. Soobin murmurs with a hurt expression, “I guessed, but I was waiting for you to tell me. Do you not trust me?”

Taehyun bitterly smiles, “Trust? Don’t be naive.” Soobin flinches at his sour tone. “Trust is what got me and her in this shit mess in the first place. Believing your disgusting prince but instead he accepted her for his own benefit.”

“But marrying him will help her strengthen her position, no? I…” Soobin hesitates. “You don’t understand, being forced into marriage is not exactly the same as a mutual alliance is it?” Taehyun snaps.

Taehyun scowls, “You knew, I’m sure he tells you a lot of his idiotic ramblings. Yet you do not once rush to the side of justice. You knew it was suspicious when the guards here wouldn’t let either of us outside.”

Soobin grunts, “I know. I know okay. I’ve known about the Prince’s plans this entire time. That’s why…” Soobin’s voice cracks, “That’s why I went and got the resources you needed for the teleportation. I didn’t stop you. I…I didn’t encourage him either.”

Taehyun stops standing up, peering at his friend. “You intentionally followed my whims?” Soobin frowns, “I know, his highness has been holding the Princess captive here. He told me this before you even knew. This was the plan he discussed with me. I merely went along with it.”Taehyun remains silent processing his words. “I couldn’t object to him, Taehyun. I…he’s the ruler here. That would practically be handing my life over,” Soobin stammers.

Taehyun murmurs, “So you’re playing the ignorant fool. How will you explain yourself after me and her leave? Won’t you be considered an accomplice?”

“Did you think about that? You clearly didn’t care. You would have left me here to clear up your mess,” Soobin seethes lowly. “I have to be selfish, this once,” Taehyun grits out.

Soobin muses sourly, “I’m not angry, you’re doing this out of desperation. I don’t agree with his highness’s actions manipulating her. I get why you're resorting to this.” The two stare at each other in an uncomfortable silence. “That’s why I asked no questions until now,” Soobin mutters.

“You’re not going to tell the Prince?” Taehyun asks, frowning. Soobin shakes his head, “I am not cruel. I may be loyal, but I am not cruel. Fortuna deserves a good ruler, I can see she has the qualities required of one,” Soobin gives Taehyun a smirk, “Especially if she’s managed to capture your attention of all people.”

A scoff escapes Taehyun’s lips, “Hilarious.” Soobin hums, “It hurts. But I’ll manage; I will merely say this happened without my knowledge. I will play the ignorant fool. At the end of the day, I am a coward, Taehyun, who does not wish to go against royalty. I don’t want to die at his highness’s wrath.”

Taehyun’s heart stings, he was going to let Soobin take the fall for the aftermath. Guilt consumes him. “I’m sorry,” Taehyun utters. Soobin’s eyes widen in surprise with a wry smile, “An apology from the prodigy Kang Taehyun? A sincere one at that. You truly have changed.”

“I didn’t want to deceive you. I just thought you’d spill everything to Beomgyu,” Taehyun sighs. “Understandable,” Soobin utters, peering at the sunset, “When it gets dark is the optimal time, yes?” Taehyun nods.

“Isn’t teleporting the two of you going to be exhausting? No, it may even knock you out,” Soobin frowns. “I…I have to try. She’s placed all her faith on me,” Taehyun murmurs.

“Who knows what that much mana output could do to your body?” Soobin quivers. Taehyun crouches back down resuming the final preparations, “I’ve come this far. She’ll be here soon. You should leave the scene.”

“Oh so now you don’t want me to take the fall?” Soobin hums sarcastically. Taehyun glares, “I said sorry, okay?” Soobin takes his things and walks towards the door, “Yes, yes. I shall leave you to your mighty plan. Best of luck Taehyun. Convey my wishes to the Princess too.”

Before Soobin could leave, Taehyun calls out, “Soobin, wait.” Soobin turns briefly and Taehyun murmurs, “If…If things get tough here. You can always come back to Fortuna.” Soobin’s expression falls with a touched gaze. His words moved Soobin greatly.

“You’re a fine sorcerer, you’d be welcomed into the Sorcerer’s Tower with ease,” Taehyun says. “Thank you…Taehyun. I’ll consider it,” Soobin frowns; his heart aching. Taehyun had offered him a way out, just in case.

“I’ve left a copy of the original teleportation spell in the left-hand drawer of your table, like you asked. You said you wanted the spell, right?” Taehyun hums. Soobin smiles solemnly, “Yes, I did. Thanks, Taehyun. I…good luck with everything.”

With that, the door shuts. All that is missing now was you. Just where were you? The sun was setting fast. His heart races in nervous anticipation.

Meanwhile, the dining hall bustles tensely. “Where’s Y/n?” Beomgyu questions as he sits at the dining table, him grabbing a napkin. There’s silence in the hall as the maids and some guards peer at each other, all waiting for someone to respond. Beomgyu’s eyes narrow, “Silence? I asked a question.”

“Your highness, I went to call her highness for dinner but she dismissed me saying she felt unwell,” a maid finally speaks up.

Beomgyu’s gaze darkens, “Unwell? She was perfectly fine this morning? What is the meaning of this? I made it abundantly clear to be sharp on time for dinner.” The dining hall staff remain silent as Beomgyu’s frustration emanates.

With an irritated clatter he stands up and abruptly walks to your chambers. He wouldn’t tolerate such insolence. After all, he could never be too careful, particularly with that pesky sorcerer leaving today.

He knocks on the door once, twice, a third time. No response. Beomgyu twists the knob slamming the door open and finds a heart-dropping empty bedroom. The balcony doors carelessly swung open, the windows open and curtains haphazardly flapping as the golden sunset seeps in.

Rage consumes him. No. This could not possibly be happening! She must merely be on a walk, perhaps she went to the gates to see that pathetic sorcerer off! Yes, that’s it. Anger floods his senses as the guards around him shiver.

A maid suddenly walks by with a duster in hand, “Your highness? What is the matter?” Beomgyu barks, “The Princess, you clean her room and this hallway, yes? Where did she go?”

The maid’s eyes widen and she shakily replies, “I-she told me she was needing a walk as she felt unwell. I didn’t inquire further, your highness. She went down the East Wing.”

A daunting heaviness grows in Beomgyu’s chest. The East Wing? There’s nothing but offices and administrative rooms down there. His mind whirrs, and suddenly his mind clicks. The sorcerer’s chamber.

“Guards, follow me. I believe someone has gotten too foolish. I just want to see where my beloved’s curiosity has gotten her,” he snarls. Surely, he was paranoid. She was not stupid! He was her only choice, betraying him would only lead to her demise. He would slaughter the heir to Fortuna himself if he had to prove his point. He was so close to getting Fortuna for himself and now his plan was on the verge of collapse!

No, he had to compose himself. First evaluate the situation. Then act. Find her first.

Meanwhile, your breaths tumble out of your lips raggedly. Your leg muscles burn as you run towards the sorcerers’ chamber. You didn’t have much time; you had manage to make up numerous excuses to the curious gazes that you met along your way here.

Slamming open the wooden door, your eyes meet with Taehyun. You lock the flimsy lock behind you. Fear consumes you. You knew Beomgyu was waiting for you to join him for dinner. He was an incredibly intelligent individual, he’d pick up that something was wrong very quickly, thus you didn’t have much time. You both had to work fast.

“I’m here,” you breathe out and you rush towards him. His eyes twinkle with brief relief as he takes your hands and squeezes them reassuringly, “Keep calm. We got this. I’ve got everything prepared.”

“We don’t have much time; Beomgyu has probably already noticed my disappearance,” you stammer breathlessly.

Taehyun slings his satchel strap across himself and he murmurs, “Step inside the mana circle. Keep your breathing steady, feel yourself becoming one with the mana entering your body.” You do as he says as concern paints your features, “Wait, only me?”

“Only one at a time. I’ll pass out otherwise, it’s unthinkable to teleport two humans at once! This mana circle can handle two teleportations. I figured it’s safer to do so one after the other,” He explains, distressed. The sun finally sets, only allowing the candlelight to illuminate the room.

Taehyun summons his wand and takes his small notebook in one hand. The chalk circle below you begins to glow beautifully and your eyes tear up; you both were really doing this. You look at Taehyun who closes his eyes in focus as he intricately moves his wand.

Numerous glowing runes and symbols appear around you and you find yourself feeling tingly, almost light as air. A warmth fills you. The glow illuminates his gorgeous features making him look almost angelic, unreal even.

His eyes open to meet yours leaving you breathless. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be right behind you, sweetheart,” Taehyun hums with a smirk. You frown, he had to be.

Taehyun peers down at his notebook and begins murmuring the incantations. The symbols around you glow brighter and your body feels lighter. A grunt escapes Taehyun as he moves his wand accordingly.

“Think of my cottage, my home. Keep that in your mind. Think of absolutely nothing else,” he orders. You see his hand shaking slightly and him focusing intently building up his mana.

You close your eyes and imagine your surroundings. His home. The Woods of Mors. His dingy kitchen and alchemy corner.

All of a sudden, the clatter of armour resounds coming towards the door and your heart races, shattering your reverie. Taehyun stiffens and the runes around you flicker. No! No!

“Princess, don’t lose focus. Ignore them. We’ll get out of here, we’ll get out of here. Close your eyes and trust me,” Taehyun snaps. His eyes plead with you, “Trust me to get you out of here.”

Shakily, you nod and clamp your eyes shut despite the door banging and creaking. The guards and Beomgyu were out there. “Just what the hell is happening in there? It’s locked? Break it down! Immediately!”

“Focus. Focus,” Taehyun utters, gathering all his strength and mana. “Believe in me, princess.”

He utters a few last words before he swings his wand with a grand flourish and a sudden intense wave of energy wafts over you and the surroundings begin to disintegrate around you; you feel as though you’re floating away. You were teleporting, how odd this was.

The environment around you becomes brighter and brighter, your eyes meet with Taehyun who continues channeling his mana. He had to come with you!

Just as the last bits of your vision white out; you hear the door come crashing down and armour rapidly clatter in. Taehyun looks taken aback and before you can release a scream. Everything disappears around you in a rapid blur.

No. No. In the emptiness of the white space, a wretched scream escapes your lips. He’d be fine right? He was right behind you right? Think. Think. Woods of Mors. Woods of Mors.

You suddenly find yourself falling and flailing and your eyes clamp shut once more. With a pained grunt you find yourself falling and tumbling onto a familiar wooden floor. You cough and splutter feeling disoriented. The room was blurry; you sit up and take in your surroundings.

Indeed, you had been teleported successfully to Taehyun’s home. Your eyes widen in bizarre amazement. He did it! His spell worked! You sit up trembling violently, the smile off your face is wiped off as you realise Taehyun still hadn’t appeared beside you.

No, it would take some time. He’d be fine. Taehyun against a couple of guards and the Prince? They were no match for Taehyun. He had to appear any second now. Deliriously, you get up, “Taehyun?”

“Taehyun!” You yell shakenly. Panic floods your system as more seconds pass by with no sign of him arriving. They couldn’t have hurt him right? Tears drip down your face as fear wraps around your senses. Were you selfish to go first?

Beomgyu would surely kill him, if he got his hands on Taehyun! You sniffle, “Oh goodness, Taehyun. Please, please.” You plead openly with shaky hands clasped together. Your skin prickles as goosebumps appear. Your heart beats as though going to shatter your ribcage.

Defeatedly, you crouch down onto your knees, tears slide down your cheeks. He’s still not here? Oh Taehyun… You cover your face wiping your tears and running nose as you sob losing hope each second.

A bright luminescent orb appears before flashing the entire room and you hunch over closing your eyes to prevent being blinded. Shortly, you hear a clumsy thump. The air itself feels electric as you slowly sit up opening your eyes with a squint.

Your eyes catch glimpse of a figure lying on the floor groaning and grunting. You lunge forward with sobs wracking your body. “I was so scared! Taehyun, oh my god!” You place your hands on his weakly rising and falling chest. His eyes meet yours, “Mhm…told you, I’d be right,” he coughs, “Behind you.”

Your heart sinks as you spot blood pooling under the right side of his torso. Your lips tremble, “Taehyun- what? What happened?” He blinks slowly, his breaths ragged and uneven.

“That,” he hisses in pain, “B-Bastard, sliced into me, ah- fuck.” You shake, “He- you’re fine right? Can you heal? You have healing spells right?”

He lies his head back on the floor with a dull gaze, exhaustion evident on his features, “Don’t think…I have enough,” his blinking slows, “mana…strength.” You cup his cheek shaking his face slightly, “Taehyun! Taehyun stay with me!”

Taehyun deliriously hums as his eyes closed, “Mm, just fine. Just a s-scratch.” You snarl tearfully, “This is not- where are your medical supplies? God, stay with me.”

Taehyun smiles almost blissfully as pain envelopes him, “Mm…medication- alchemy corner…cabinet.” The young sorcerer goes still and your eyes widen, “Taehyun! Taehyun! Can you hear me?” He was unconscious this wasn’t good!

You hurriedly peer at the alchemy corner seeing the several cabinets, which one was it? He passed out before he could say! You had to act quick he was losing too much blood! You had no idea how to take care of injuries! No, you had to try. You’d mimic what the palace healer would do, is all. How hard could that be?

You couldn’t let anything happen to Taehyun. He had to remain alive. After all, he was in this condition because of you.

It was your turn to take care of things.

You’d save him. You had to save him. You peer once more at his bloodied and pale face. In even the face of death, he looked ethereal.

You knew you couldn’t lose him.

You won’t.

Taglist: [open]

@royallyjjk @wolfytae-exe @rencarnationofangel @sirenla @matcha-binz @beomies-world @michinri @parkweylyn @wikireads @hanniehaeeeeeee1004 @elara828 @wonioml @onima-chan @moonekth @glossykai @jjunielvrs @beargyuuzz @cathyun @hanstarrs @m3chigo @vanicogh @baekberrie @nap-of-a-starr

#txt x reader #txt x y/n #txt x you #taehyun x reader #taehyun x y/n #taehyun x you #txt taehyun #kang taehyun #txt beomgyu #txt soobin #txt yeonjun #tomorrow x together #txt #txt fanfic #txt fantasy au #txt au #kpop x reader #kpop fanfic #kpop #kpop angst #txt angst #tinietaehyun #kai kamal huening #choi beomgyu #choi yeonjun #choi soobin #txt post #txt fluff #taehyun tomorrow x together #taehyun fic

[dolldrop]

So, so foolish for you.

✿ This is part one of a three part series!  ✿  read part two here.

❀ Prologue/summary: You were able to land a respected spot in the Fatui because of your heartless nature, yet your feelings became your biggest source of weakness when you started working under Scaramouche.

❀ Pairing(s): Harbinger! Scaramouche x gn! reader

❀ Themes/warnings: angst, slight cussing, reader pining for a cold man.

❀ Doll’s note: Hello Tumblr~ (,, ･∀･)ﾉ゛Just wanted to write a slightly longer fic for your heartstrings during the holiday season, I’m still relatively new to the site so any replies or reblogs would be greatly appreciated!

❀ word count: 1.3k

✿ masterlist (not yet posted) ✿ requested by: N/A, original concept

Scaramouche has always had a distant untouchable demeanor.

You have no clue how things have ended up this miserable during such a supposedly cheerful holiday season, was it something you did wrong? You couldn’t help but start to backtrack in your head, still considering the possibility that it was you who could have done something to deserve how terribly he treated you. The sign of winter in full-swing floating so beautifully from the sky ironically makes your heart sink more. You breathe into your bare palms in an effort to warm them, the silent night filled with only the sound of crunching snow beneath your feet makes you realize how pathetic this whole situation seems. 

“Scara, do you really not see me as anything more than one of your subordinates?”

…

You have managed to join the Fatui in order to earn the type of mora you could never obtain through a measly salary anywhere in Snezhnaya. Your mother came down with a chronic sickness that would be incredibly costly to relieve, hence the urgent need for another source of finance. Although your ability to learn was satisfactory to achieve any small job within the nation, your strong suit resided in your combat with your given vision. So much so that it was more than enough for you to understand that any commission in the adventurers guild would not be paying you what your skills are worth.

You were living day-to-day just completing your assigned duties like an automated machine, to the point where your world seemed like a monochrome routine… until you began to work under the sixth harbinger. They called him the balladeer, with a more specific name of Scaramouche. The first time you met, you were struck with a complicated infatuation. 

“Love at first sight? Don’t be ridiculous.”

You scoffed as your co-worker tried to suggest the concept when you attempted to speak on your strange feelings for your superior. 

You were someone who always felt like they harbored no deeper feelings for those around them, being able to take on ruthless tasks in the organization that would normally be rejected by the other members. That was your charm, your strength that allowed you to climb the Fatui ranks faster than a majority of others. 

At least that’s how it was supposed to be. Nobody has ever held such weight in your heart as this man has managed to. You have never felt like your emotions were such a weakness as it is now. You didn’t come to terms with your years and years of longing for intimacy until your feelings for Scaramouche began. It blossomed in the way he nodded approvingly at your flawless completion of fatui missions, in the gentle touches that were briefly exchanged when he handed you information documents. 

You were able to take note of his more vulnerable sides when you received the order to work alongside him for prolonged periods of time. You were the one who quietly stayed by his side and soothed his moments of doubt, who always supported him and eventually offered your unconditional loyalty. You forgot all about your original motive the moment he entered your life, when did you become someone so naive and dependent on another? Your love clouded over whatever initially gave you your vision, you sacrificed everything else to keep your position by his side. You left your entire life behind to be at his every beck and call.

Over time, you both seemed to become more comfortable with one another. You surely felt an unspoken connection.. 

“I know we’ve been working with each other for a while.” You began.

He looked up at you slightly from his drink, you have invited him out to tea this evening to finally confess your welled-up feelings for him after all this time. It was nearing Christmas, a time you desperately wanted to spend with him as lovers. You’ve lied awake countless nights thinking about exchanging gifts with Scara, being able to share an embrace by a fire, and many other typical holiday-couple scenarios of the sort. It became such a habit of pining for him, you couldn’t imagine your life without his presence anymore.

“Scara, do you really not see me as anything more than one of your subordinates? I really feel like we have something special..and…I’ve fallen in love with you, since the first time we’ve met.”

You tried not to stumble over your words during your blunt confession, it becomes increasingly difficult to maintain your usual calm composure. 

You are all that brings color to my dull world.

He looks back down at his cup, raising it to his lips without a single thing said.

Please stay with me.

He places the cup down slowly, the sound of it gently set upon the table almost reverberating throughout the room.

Hey..

Still not a word.

I’m begging you...

The silence was deafening, his lack of a response was making it hard to breathe. 

I truly beg of you.

“Oh? I feel the same way.”

Huh?

Your heart picked up an impossible pace, staring at the man in front of you with wide eyes. He smiled gently at you, with an expression you’d never seen before.

“You’re incredibly talented (y/n). It’s been such a pleasure spending so much time with you over those other incompetent idiots.”

You’re lying, right?

“To tell you the truth, I always admired you too.”

..For real?

…

“So how long do you want me to continue entertaining you with this bullshit?”

His forced facade snaps into a disgusted frown, shifting his glaring eyes to your teary expression. 

What?

“Is that what you wanted me to say? I thought you were beyond harboring such useless feelings, (y/n). I must say, I’m surprised. More so, I’m disappointed in you.” 

He clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“You should know better than to think I would utter such pathetic wor-“

His sentence was interrupted by tea thrown over his dark locks, drenching his face from the shoulder up. Unfortunately, it was no longer hot. It had been sitting in front of you for quite some time now while you were working up the courage to say such worthless things. Your scorching tears are now streaming down your face. Regret washed over you for wishing to receive anything more than his horrible attitude. 

“You’re really the worst.” You muttered shakily under your breath. While clenching your fists, all your customary polite mannerisms are now long gone. But you didn’t care, it was the least of your concern how you’re in no position as a subordinate to be angry with him.

He could have at least just said no. What kind of man did you end up loving, for him to be someone capable of dangling all that you wanted right in your face just to take it back as a cruel joke? You guess you never saw how heartless he really was, no matter what you’ve lost for him.

Not even bothering to spare his face another glance at this moment, you stormed out of the teahouse. Your face stings from the icy air hitting your wet cheeks. After some time trudging through the harsh weather, the snowstorm had ceased slightly and you were finally alone with your thoughts again.

You stop in your tracks, unsure of where you’re even trying to go. You have no direction, no place without him to return to because you’ve willingly given everything away. You felt your chest ache, this pain was unlike any you’d ever received in battle before.

It’s unbearable.

You didn’t realize when your knees have gone weak and how you’ve even begun to cry again. A sob emitted from your throat as the snow you’re kneeling on has been stained with the remnants of your hurt.

Oh, how I’ve been so, so very foolish for you.

It became clear when this was the way you were finally snapped back to reality from your impossible delusion, that he doesn’t think of you as anything more than just another pawn in his plan. 

Scaramouche has decided to reward your hardest efforts with the most excruciating pain.

✿ Part two is now posted!

@ 𝘥𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘱 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘳 | please credit if reposted! ♡

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #genshin fic

[uselesssomebody]

could you maybe do poe comforting an overwhelmed reader by giving them his jacket to wear 🥺

𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕜𝕝𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕒𝕓𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕠𝕟 - poe dameron x reader

complete masterlist | poe dameron masterlist

words || 𝟠.𝟟𝕜

summary || in which poe kinda makes the reader's life hell

a/n || 8,7k??? what is wrong with me

➵ nonnie you're gonna have to sift through like 8k words to get to the request but star wars fics need good world building

➵ yo send me moon knight requests or any oscar/pedro characters i'm banging them out right now

➵ not edited (yet)

➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff/angst

her tools fall out of her hand with a distinct clatter, as she rises from her haunches for the first time in about an hour. she runs a gentle finger over the the edge of the removed metal plate, examining her handiwork at re-configuring, and then bettering the main control center.

it’d looked like hell when she'd first seen it, just 10 minutes after the black squadron had returned to d'qar - after a particularly nasty run in with some tie-fighters after attempting to survey a first order base. though all the members had bore a part of the violence and destruction, he who bore the brunt of it was their oh so brave leader - poe dameron.

of course, his extreme courage, and never-ending headstrong-edness did enough to serve his position as the resistance's golden boy. on the other hand, though, that same bravery owed to her consecutive long nights.

see, no one thought about the little guy - dameron was probably basking in the praise he was receiving at the moment, while no one ever remembered that the only reason his shots were so good was because she'd tinkered with the weapons system until perfection. the only reason he could ever complete any of his complicated maneuvers was because she ensured his controls ran smoothly - never jamming - and that the wings of his starfighter weren't falling off. though that may seem like a base requirement of her job, she knew that wasn't an occasional fix; no, it was much closer to weekly.

it was dark on the surface of the base, and she was beside a measly lamp to finish her work. she lightly tapped against the metal on the outside of the x-wing, satisfied with the adjustments, and, when she finally stretches out her body, standing fully upright, she feels the quirk in her shoulder from the hunching, and the cramp of her forearms and palms at her meticulous but firm grip on her tools. she sighed deeply as her bleary eyes made her see spots.

she hears footsteps approach her, and she collects her items as her close friend and fellow mechanic rose comes up behind her.

"how's it going?" she hums discontentedly in response.

"i'm done, at least." it's not a great answer, but rose understands, a soft smile gracing her lips as she grabs the lamp, holding onto it to allow her friend to place her tools away.

rose's own x-wing was one of the new recruits, given a lesser brunt during missions and scouting. thus, she'd finished ensuring it was in the best shape ages ago. she'd decided to finish up some other things in the meanwhile, before doubling back to see her eternally overworked friend's progress.

"you wanna head back to the bunks?" she rubs her nose as she thinks about rose's question. as they begin leaving the flight deck, she can hear the light echo of people from afar.

"if you want to, don't wait up for me. i need a drink, though." she finally decides, not wanting to deprive her friend of sleep, but also knowing that she needed something to help her unwind from the busy day. rose simply shrugs, gesturing to the both of them making their way to the cantina.

as they enter, a decent amount of people are still milling about, though many look ready to begin wrapping up their nights. there's a empty table a ways away from the bar so, upon taking rose's request, she urges her friend to sit down as she heads to the bar.

the bartender's a lovely guy: a weequay called aid-zarg, that everyone just refers to as 'ay' or, if they're close, 'zarg'. he'd been a bit against the nicknames, but had eventually caved to them.

"ay - how're ya?" she slides into a stool in front of him, attempting conversation tentatively. he shrugs - his expression seems cold, though she knows that's just how his face is.

"alright. long night?" she smiles, but it's almost a grimace.

"something like that." she orders for her and rose, and patiently taps against the wood counter as he prepares them. when he finally slides them over, she gives him a nod of appreciation, and he returns it with a nod of acknowledgement, before she turns back to join rose.

rose glances at her as she slumps into her seat, looking half-ready to pass out.

"maybe you should talk to the general about your schedule. you're half-asleep all the time; that can't be good for a resistance member." rose takes a sip of her drink as she presents a solution to her friend's never-ending dilemma.

"i - i would, but it's not fair to assign extra work to anyone - everyone's got a specific part of the base to tend to, or a specific ship, or fighter, or whatever." she thought about her hesitance as she watched the slosh of her drink, "everyone else's already working, and i don't want to make it anyone else's baggage just 'cause my pilot has an ego the size of a death star." rose purses her lips to keep herself from laughing - not wanting to encourage her friend's catty commentary.

"how'd you end up getting assigned his, anyway?" rose mumbled. her friend laughed into her drink, slowly recanting the reason:

even before she'd come to d'qar, it was common knowledge amongst the mechanics that being assigned to fix up dameron's x-wing meant you'd lose out on a weeknight or two, if it was temporary, and your entire night life - if it was permanent.

so, when she'd arrived, and presented her previous qualifications as a mechanic on tatooine, many knew that she was at least experienced and, at most, very efficient.

so, almost as a rite of passage amongst the mechanics, she'd been assigned the dreaded ship. and she'd fixed it up in record time. at first, it was an achievement she wore like a medal, the surprised faces of the resident mechanics enough to make her beam at her skill, and her knowledge of its contribution to the resistance's efforts.

then, though, it became a permanent assignment. and, for a while, it was manageable. but then, the fights got tougher; the first orders weapons more destructive.

"and suddenly, i'm up at 1 on a work night." she finally concludes. rose, having known her since she arrived, was privy to her friend's sometimes tired, always slightly pent-up rants on any topic that aggravated her, so she waited patiently for tonight's, "it's just-" there it is, "he's so fucking - ugh - would it kill him to just follow the plan? to listen to his instructions, to not be so reckless and not go out of his way to get himself killed - no, fuck that actually - his plane destroyed? i don't know - i get it's important to be versatile, and brave, and whatever bullshit, but c'mon - every time? keeping me up every night?"

rose was sure she hadn't even stopped to breathe in that entire time, but she definitely paused her rant to take sips of her drink, which then spurred on the vent further. she contemplated maybe removing the drink from her hand, but figured that after her long evening, she deserved it, along with a listening ear.

she sighs deeply into her drink as she finishes her story, not exactly expecting an answer from rose, but happy that she could at least get it off her chest.

suddenly, she feels a firm hand on her shoulder, making her and rose squeak and whip their heads to the person. what they hadn't realized was the volume with which they were speaking, causing her eyes to widen as she realizes that the object of her annoyance stood behind her, a goading smile plastered over his - unfortunately - gorgeous face.

“yeah - that guy’s a pain in the ass!” he hisses sarcastically, as though in his group of friends, gossiping, “what’d you say he was again?” he hunches down, so his face is in line with hers. she tries to glance desperately at rose, but all she can make out is her brown overalls behind poe’s jaw. she swallows, but looks him in the eyes, an unwavering look on her face.

“i was saying that he’s reckless. and he’s the reason i’m having a drink - as opposed to, y’know, sleeping. what anyone should be doing this late.” her voice is clear, and she watches the confidence in his face falter for a moment. then, as quickly as it hesitated, his smile returned, rising back up to his full height. he pokes his tongue into his inner cheek, looking between the both of them.

“enjoy your drinks, ladies.” he says it with a shockingly non-confrontational tone, accompanied with a shrug. she feels her cheeks heat in embarrassment as he gives her a slight nod to her, before turning and heading in the direction of one of the newer recruits - frank? flynn? - as she turns back to her drink, eyes closed in humiliation.

finally, she glances up at rose, and sees the uncomfortable grimace mirrored on her face.

“please, please, can you not shout when you complain about someone?” she chastises and begs her friend in the same tone, telling her off for her borderline rude behavior, and for the subsequent awkwardness it caused her. it makes her laugh, as she nods, assuring her that she won't. as rose bemoans she situation, she smiles into the rim of her drink, trying not to think about the warmth that she felt.

she wasn't quite sure if it was still embarrassment, or something else.

as she and rose had finally decided they'd taken enough from the night, and were ready to pass out into the longest sleep they had time to muster, rose heads towards the exit while she rushes to the bar to bid adieu to aid, and to front over the cost of their drinks. the quiet bartender thought her to be funny, so prices were usually discounted, but what did confuse her was the shake of his head and the shrug he passed when she asked to be reminded of the prices.

"already paid for." her eyebrows quirk at the non-descriptive explanation, and she wonders who'd paid for them in the short time they'd sat in the cantina.

"huh? by who?" aid was never great at names, but even he couldn't forget her infamous donor.

"dameron."

the revelation muffled in her mind over the night, as she wondered what exactly had possessed the cocky pilot to pay for their drinks, especially after hearing her bad-mouth him.

perhaps, she figured, it was a gesture of good-will, to imply that her snarky comments did little to actually affect him. and, for a moment she thought it was sweet.

until she passed by him in that same cantina, surrounded by both the members of his squadron, as well as some others, recounting the story of how he'd narrowly ducked in and between the cliffs of some outer rim territory in order to avoid a gang of small-time pirates. he spoke animatedly of how he narrowly made it out from a 20 meter gap in the cliffs, though how, tragically, one of his wings had taken a brunt of impact.

she grimaced at the casualness of his words, and of the enraptured expressions of everyone else, only speaking in order to reiterate how truly amazing they thought he was.

of course she remembered that mission, as she'd spent a grueling 3 days fashioning a new wing tip to add to his starfighter before his next mission - pulling maybe a collective 3 hours of sleep over the 3 nights.

and, suddenly, his gesture seemed almost more of a mockery.

though she knew that he continued to leave her blood boiling, and thus attempted to avoid him as much as possible, he seemed to have a remarkably different idea, deciding that his prevalence as a topic of conversation of her yielded him permission to become the one she spoke to.

he'd greet her as he hopped off of his ship, whenever he passed the flight deck as she worked, and somehow always managed to walk past her just as she knew he was clocking out for the night, leaving her to work an additional few hours - at least - to rescue his overworked vehicle.

poe didn't believe that he was being malicious - not at all. after all, she had no idea how difficult his job was either, so what gave her the right to complain? she didn't know that the only reason he pulled off complicated maneuvers was to divert attention from less experienced recruits, or that the days of planning missions - just for many of them to fail - also left him exhausted, and owed to many of his own contemplative, long nights.

thus, a strange, very aggravating dance occurred between the both of them. she was stubborn - as stubborn as him - but, of course, she - rather stubbornly - would never believe it, owing neither to want to secede and create a more comfortable environment by discussing their issues or - and this was completely off the table - apologizing.

though, due to this, both of their friends were subject to suffer through their passing remarks, or the strange tension that seemed to follow the pair. as the days continued, rose found herself seeking out the amused eyes of finn - poe's good friend - as he took in the scene, smiling or laughing alongside him at the absurdity of their situation.

it was this growing familiarity between their friends, in fact, that had owed to her current lonely late night. the black and green squadrons were responsible for the destruction of a medium, but connected first order base in the mid rim. it was an unlikely victory - outnumbered by tie-fighters at least 2 or 3 to one, but the meticulous plan crafted by finn, poe and a few of the others, and green-lit by the general, had created it.

there was much celebration when they'd headed back - and that spirit soared through the entirety of the base, with everyone coming together to remember their primary goal: weakening the authoritative role of the first order. it had gone on late into the night, as she can still hear the loud, carrying voices from the cantina. she's headed in the opposite direction, though, as she usually does. she'd seen dameron's ship when it'd come in, and - though it didn't look all that rough, she could tell it could do with a tune up.

she hadn't asked rose to stay alongside her, seeing the twinkle in her eyes as she'd spoken to finn in the aftermath of the mission, smiling widely in a way her friend didn't see all that often. so, instead, she’s left in company of just her tools and the occasional creak of the old, overworked machines.

there's quiet squeaks as she's unscrewing the control panel of the starfighter, but the noises are dwarfed by the sounds of steps approaching her general direction. she wonders if someone's forgotten something, or if it's rose stopping by the check on her, but she decides to ignore it, unable to pinpoint how close the other person is. that is, until she sees them round the nose of the x-wing.

it makes her start violently, dropping her tools with a clatter as she jumps. her heart's beating so fast that she can't even see all that clearly, and, when she finally realizes who it is, frustration clouds over her confusion.

"what the hell are you doing here?" it's harsher than she usually is, but it'd been a really long day, and she wasn't excited at the notion of dealing with him.

immediately, poe's defensive.

"kriff, calm down! i just wanted to check in on her." he lightly pats on the nose of his x-wing, as if it were a pet, and she suddenly wonders where his actual pet-droid - the orange one - is, "wanted to make sure nothing happened to it." he continues, not looking at her.

she opens her mouth, wanting to say how dumb of an explanation it was, but she truly can't find the energy to start a back-and-forth with him, so she simply goes back to work, shrugging. seeing that he still doesn’t leave, she drops her head, sighing deeply.

“what - what exactly do you need to know about it - her - dameron? do you need to watch the circuits as i reconnect them, or maybe eyeball every screw i twist in?” he seems shocked by the outburst, mouth hanging open for just a moment, before his hands raise up in a faux-surrender.

“if you want me to leave - i’ll go.” he pauses for a second, but she can still feel that more words are soon to leave his tongue, so she doesn’t say anything, eyes falling down to the circuits she'd just spoken about, “but i’m not exactly excited by the idea of you - someone - down here all by themselves.” she purses her lips.

“well, i’m sorry to inconvenience you - but you are flying again tomorrow morning, and your ship isn’t exactly tip-top.” she’s ready to turn back, hoping it’s enough of an argument to suffice him, but’s he’s adamant.

“at least take a break? everyone else’s at the cantina - it’s not like a drink’d hurt-” she rolls her shoulders, sighing deeply.

“if i agree, will you stop talking?” his voice stops, but a smile grows in its stead. he shrugged.

“you want me to stop? i thought you adored the sound of my voice-” she rolls her eyes, the hint of a smile ghosting over her own lips at the sarcastic joke. muttering a small shut up, she raises to her feet, dusting off her outfit, before stepping away from her work. he gestures to the large doors leading out the flight bay, and she nods, walking to meet his stride.

they reach the cantina in a moment, the silence between them filled instead with the increasing sounds from everyone else. as she enters, she notices the large overflow of people around the bar, evidently still celebrating. she takes a deep breath as she looks around desperately for where exactly she's supposed to do.

poe, keeping a close eye on her so as to not lose her to the crowd, points towards the table where their friends are sitting. she nods, flitting right behind him to benefit as he pushes his way through the crowds. when they finally reach the table, he can see a calm rest on her face, especially in the presence of rose. he follows her gaze to the close proximity between rose and finn, and, when she averts her gaze, she meets his, making him smile with a shrug, as if saying i know, right?

as poe grabs a drink for the both of them, and she's finally able to actually meet finn and speak with rose, she finds herself loosening up, grinning at rose's excited expression, or finn's somewhat deadpan humor, or the sweetness of her drink. sometimes, poe's own jokes forced an unwarranted laugh from her as well - which he definitely took notice of.

for a while, he'd also noticed the apprehension of not being able to finish her work, but he reminds her subtly that his ship hadn't been too beat up: it wouldn't disintegrate if he tried to exit the atmosphere tomorrow, and she'd have time to fix it up before it got to that point. it allows her to really mellow down, and she settles - alongside rose -with a few other members of the black squadron as they discuss the day, their missions, and the base.

poe's more decent, she realizes, than she gave him credit for, as when he's reintroducing her to the other pilots, the first words out of his mouth is acknowledgement for her hard work. it almost makes her giddy, especially after it's followed by miscellaneous praise from the others. she feels a smile creep up on her countenance, and it's only bolstered by the many small, sweet glances he'd shoot in her direction.

though, like all good things, it doesn't exactly last.

as the night drags - and maybe it's also her exhaustion, or the fact that poe's a few more drinks in - she can feel that respect that grew for him begin to chip away again.

his mouth just works too fast for his brain to catch up - she supposes - as she feels annoyance creep over her as she hears him gloat about his many stories as a pilot. though many of the stories have less to do with him giving her more hardship, when she sees the more egoistic parts of his personality reveal themselves throughout the night, she feels that same aggravation that led to that one night of late drinking with rose.

at some point, she feels that hearing him boast over and over and over was just too much to bear, so she knocks the rest of her drink back, waves rose and finn off, and slips out as she came in, deciding a night of good sleep may soothe her turbulent mind.

only a moment after she left, does poe return with a drunken smile, just about to introduce her to one of the many recruits he'd mentored - in order to remind said recruit about the importance of respecting your mechanic.

the smile fell as finn - almost sadly - mentioned that she'd left.

it's been a few weeks since then, and poe's reeled in his antics - much to her pleasure. though, she couldn't help the twang of something she'd begun to feel when he walked past her station, not acknowledging her in the slightest.

she wondered why; after all, that was what she'd initially wanted.

neither could continue ignoring each other, though, when they were called into the communications center of the base by the leader of the division, and the general herself.

she made her way up there quickly and, meeting poe at the door, hoped her confusion wasn't apparent on her face. if it was, he did little to quell it, as he instead focused on opening the large doors.

now, she'd only met the general a few times - and the other she knew only by rank. he, on the other hand, seemed very buddy-buddy with the pair, forcing her isolation for a moment as the three greeted each other. when, finally, they turned to outline the reason for the meeting, she was directed to sit down, and listen carefully.

she was told of how the resistance had recently learned from a rebel spy on an important first order ship that said ship had been collecting significant amounts of data on the resistance, and were soon hoping to transmit that data to a more central base.

the spy had gone on, stating that if there was a way to shut down the servers in the main control room of the ship, the data would be corrupted and would be useless.

there's a pregnant pause after the delivery of this information, and she swallows before speaking.

"what - um, what exactly do you want me - us - to do?" poe's role may seem somewhat self-evident - as in, flying a passenger onto the ship or jetting them out - but her own contribution was a bit more dubious.

after all, this seemed a mission best suited for the few technical analysts on the base, as opposed to the mechanic that she was, if it included corrupting intel and shutting down servers. truly, she didn't know what the first thing about that.

the general, ever so observant, smiles lightly as she understands her question. the comms leader responds for her.

"the spy has mentioned that the core system and servers are held in an old compartment - a remnant of the original empire - and, thus, much of the system is reliant on old, though complex, circuitry." she inhales deeply, better realizing her stake in this. the other person continues, "as one of our best mechanics and - obviously - our best pilot-" okay, that stung a little bit, and the smug little grin on his face definitely didn't help, "myself and the general believe it best we run a covert operation: you will sneak onto the ship, make it to the servers, destroy them, and then come back. it's a bit technically challenging, but the likes of the two of you should ensure a smooth operation."

as they finish speaking, she can feel her heart going a mile a minute - unable to believe that she - she! - was going to try and play super-spy and sneak onto a massive first order ship. she was sure poe now realized her shock, as he gave her a small reassuring nod.

it wasn't particularly reassuring, though.

they were then told that time was of the essence, and that it would be best that they leave as soon as possible. they were told to recruit another pilot and mechanic, in the case of a back-up that may exist on the ship, before being given stolen first order uniforms, correct to their assignments.

as she headed back to the flight bay, poe and the comms leader in front of her, she felt a strange, nervous churn in her stomach. she mulled over who she'd choose as the secondary mechanic, but realized the answer was - quite literally - staring her in the face.

rose joins her at the entrance of the flight bay, curious as to why she'd been called in, and, as she recounts the meeting, she posits the position to her friend. as one of the most competent mechanics she knew, but also someone who knew how to think quick on her feet, she knew that she'd be a great fit.

rose agrees in a heartbeat - her loyalty to both her friend and the resistance unwavering against the fearful mission.

she walks further up the flight bay and, upon seeing dameron similarly speaking to finn - likely to convince him as well - she joins him, now intent on how exactly they would find a ship that would go undetected by the first order.

the general - having planned ahead - had an answer for that as well, taking the four out into a forest clearing behind the main base. two large tie/sf-fighters stood, just slightly battered, on the lush greens of the ground. they're in decent condition, she supposes, for what she knew were likely captured or shot down ships by d'qar's defense system.

they're each handed earpieces, going to guide them as they entered the first order ship, and they are waved off as she and poe enter one of them, while rose and finn enter the other.

"everyone ready?" the crackling of the comms for the mission - led by a lovely ex-bounty hunter called pala - came through, as she adjusted into the gunner's seat, and poe into the pilot's. rose answers first, a chipper 'yes' coming through between the other 4 devices. she nods to no one, as though she were really just trying to convince herself.

"as we'll ever be," she mumbles, owing to a grunt of agreement from finn. taking the answers into consideration, pala transmits the coordinates of the ship to poe and finn.

both vehicles rumble as they lift up off the ground, and she feels herself white-knuckling her seat as she anticipates the flight.

as they reach the range of the ship, poe flies ahead, surveying the entrance and - by extension - the exit points. she hears a deep voice crackle through poe's earpiece, but she can hear it echo along the narrow walkway separating her and the pilot as well. it lists off - what she presumes - is the plane's serial number, and she holds her breath as she waits for poe's response to the question, "what business do you have here?"

"the admiral sent us in for reintegration - i've got a deserter on board." she lets out a gasp at the answer he'd chosen, blatantly throwing her on the bus, but the approving echo left her annoyance to a minimum as, at least, he seemed to have bought it.

they begin lowering down into the ship's flight bay, and, before she can even stand up all the way after it becomes stationary, poe's behind her, helping her up. she doesn't know if she should thank him, but decides that she should definitely not, when she finds him grabbing both her wrists and pinning them - though gently - behind her back.

"the hell? what're you doing?" her words come out more shaky than she maybe intended, but he'd really taken her by surprise.

"you're a deserter, remember. can't exactly take you in like we're the best of friends." his tone is sarcastic and she scoffs, rolling her eyes.

"they only think that because that's what you said." he doesn't dignify her with a response, honestly making her more agitated. he opens the door of the sf-fighter and tightens his grip for a moment, as the two of them are greeted by what looked to be a colonel. it's confirmed as they near him, his nameplate engraved with the title, and poe nods at him - a little too comfortable.

"they caught this one trying to flee three days ago." he gestures to her, and the unrelated sour expression on her face was definitely helping his case. the colonel nodded, looking at her with the utmost disgust.

"and she will be reprimanded accordingly. bring her to the cell bay." poe nods, pushing her lightly as he continues forward.

"you're a good actor." she can feel his goading smirk, and she shakes her head.

"i hate you."

as they enter further into the ship, he finally releases her, their clothes helping them blend in as crew members. her fingers find her earpiece, ensuring it was on, as she spoke into it.

"rose, finn? you guys get in alright?" there's a beat of silence, and her worry grows strikingly, but it quells just as quickly when she hears the familiar tone of finn's voice in her ear.

"we're fine - heading down to the storage to find those back-ups." she glances at poe, who nods at her, before speaking.

"alright - we'll meet near the flight bay after." finn and rose both agree.

pala begins speaking a few minutes later, guiding them through the base as they reach the server room. poe keeps look-out as she crouches beside the large, cylindrical structure. circuits surround it in an orderly manner, but she can tell the ancientness of it - dust floating around, pooling around every crevice.

she reaches into her deep pockets, procuring a small screw before closely eyeing the intricacies, and getting to work.

poe's eyes flit between her frame and the hallway right outside, keenly watching for stormtroopers, and praying that none would come. he feels himself blank for a moment, not used to feeling so helpless - or, at least, not the one taking charge of a solution for a situation. he resigns himself, though, to simply waiting, gripping his blaster tightly as he waits for her to finish.

finally, she stands back up, watching the lights on the server begin flicking on and off rapidly and sporadically, owing her to believe that she'd done something right, and that the information contained was - at least - corrupted due to the circuitry she'd just purposefully fucked up.

she's by his side in a moment, peering out as well to see if they had any company. for a beat, there's nothing, and they think they have the all clear, until she hears rose's voice.

"shit!" her eyes widen at the exclamation, and they both immediately leave the room, heading back in the direction of the flight bay.

"rose? what happened, are you guys alright?" there's an eerie silence, as rose nor finn reach to communicate back through their earpieces.

"-over here! poe, we gotta head back, they're right on us!" finn's voice comes though, finally, but it does nothing to quell the pair's heightened worry.

"wait - finn, they'll chase after you - wait till we-" poe begins.

"we don't have time!" rose's voice is frantic, and the sound of blasters surround it. her eyes squeeze shut as she breathes deeply.

"rose - okay, get out of here. we're right behind you." there's no confirmation from the other end, but she tries not to let that deter her as she and poe continue towards the flight bay.

there's a smattering of patrolling stormtroopers, but her sharp ears and his sharper reflexes keep them from being caught as they slink along the shadows, tattooed to the walls of each hallway.

the large hangar finally comes into view, and they can see the familiar sf-fighter exiting it, evidently being chased by single-manned tie-fighters.

knowing they were unlikely not to be caught in this last stretch, they flee the short distance between the secluded entryway and their awaiting ship, with her rapidly beating against the button to open the door as poe covered her, keeping those whose attention they'd drawn at ever-decreasing bay with his calculated shots.

finally, the panel lowered, and they swapped positions, her shoddy shots managing to continue slowing them down as poe seats himself in the pilot's seat.

no sooner than had the panel closed upon itself are they up in the air, and she desperately straps herself into the gunner's seat, knowing she had to put her limited knowledge of the position to any use. the entrance to the hangar is rapidly closing as the colonel from earlier can be heard through the ship's comms, desperately trying to keep the pair trapped within the base.

she can feel her back imprint against her seat as poe speeds the vehicle up, just narrowly exiting the snapping jaws of the base's exit. as she takes the smallest breath of relief, does it disappear once more.

"'re you guys out? we could do with some help!" finn's voice evidenced that he was trying to keep his cool, but the fear in it was also obvious. poe's responding in a heartbeat.

"we're there in a second!" she can feel the ship begin climbing as poe checked the scanner for any other vehicles. finally, they see the sf-fighter, being narrowly tailed by two tie-fighters. poe - true to his word - comes between the forces in a heartbeat, almost dancing with the tie-fighters as he weaves between the both of them. she feels dizzy at the quick movements, but suppresses the urge to pass out and grips harder at the armrests.

"finn - get outta here, i have them!" poe's speaking through the comms once more and, as he finishes his sentence, the ship's horizontal, peeling away from finn and rose - the tie-fighters hot on his trails, evidently disgruntled by the flashy flying. finn doesn't wait a second, activating the hyperdrive and inputting the coordinates of d'qar.

on the other side of the galaxy, poe's still leading the two tie-fighter's away, but the shitty ship is impeding his ability to duck and weave like he could in his x-wing.

"'m gonna need your help here!" she jolts awake at the request, realizing that she needs to man her station. her eyes desperately flit over the various buttons, before she grips the aim stick. her eyes are trained against the tie-fighter directly tailing them, and she centers it in her view, before aggressively hitting the button to shoot.

and, it's a narrow miss. she curses, trying to refocus, but a dread begins creeping up her gut.

"i don't know what i'm doing, dameron - get us out of here!" it's an order, but, really who was she to order him around.

"we've got this - we can take 'em out." she's used to his confidence and belief in himself, but she knew they truly couldn't.

"will you just-" seeing another clear shot, she takes it. it goes a bit better, with it hitting the end of one of the fighter's wings, causing the ship to dip to one side. her worry is soothed as she celebrates the small victory to herself.

then, as though a higher power was absolutely fucking with her, it all goes to shit.

she feels the ship rumble and heave sharply as she hears a loud crash, and she whips her head around, trying to find the source of it. she desperately grips at the aim stick, trying to keep it steady and ready to fire again, but she doesn't have a moment to use it when another loud blast and creak is heard.

"shit!" her eyes widened at poe's exclamation.

"what the hell just happened - whad'ya mean-?" her words are cut off due to the wind being knocked out of her as she's slammed against one of her armrests.

"we're going - fuck - the engine's been hit - hold on-" his words are breathless against the comms, and she can hear the exertion of effort by the grunts that carry through the hallway. she grips the armrests for dear life as she waits to see what would happen. she can feel the ship make a sharp turn and, behind them, the tie-fighters trail behind a little, as if they were playing with their prey.

"what're we doing?" her fear is evident in her tone, and her voice is a bit croaky in her heightened confusion.

"i'm trying to set us down on that planet over there." she can't see it, looking out from the back of the ship, but she knows that can't be the best idea in their current state. though, seeing the creeping tie-fighters makes it seem like there's no other choice.

she can see as they enter the atmosphere, hearing the shrill whistle of wings singeing on impact. then, she closes her eyes, bracing for impact as the both of them sit in anticipating silence. she's thinking we're going too fast, the ship's gonna blow up with me in it - god fucking dammit-

and that's the last thing she remembers.

he wakes up to a mouthful of dirt, bent very awkwardly over the semi-buried dashboard of the sf-fighter. his window's broken open, and the sun - or suns? - is blinding through it. he blinks aggressively, his vision swimming a spotty as he spits the gunk out of his mouth, wiping his lips against his fucked jacket sleeve. there's enough of a space between the ground and the glass of his window pane for him to just about crawl through, feeling the heavy impact on his legs from the crash. he looks around, desperately wondering where the hell he was.

it's a grassy planet, filled with lush vegetation and small ponds and lakes. the ship was half-sticking out of one, and his pants legs are soaking wet, the skin of his fingertips pruned. he can feel a sharp sting of pane every time he moves his foot and, peeling back the end of the sopping cloth, sees the discolored swelling of his ankle - having been sprained or twisted in the crash. he lets his head fall back - could have been worse, a lot worse.

he looks up at the looming, though destroyed figure of the sf-fighter, and, seeing the other end balanced precariously above the ground. for a moment, he doesn't pay it much attention - until he remembers.

his shoddy ankle sings in agony as he makes large, limping steps towards the other end of the ship, realizing that he didn't yet know the fate of his other passenger - his mechanic.

of course, in the recess of his mind, he had a guess. but he couldn't entertain it.

finally getting to the end. he peers in to see if she was okay. he's panting heavily, desperately trying to ignore the pain as he focused on using the little light on this side to look through the broken glass. he could see her legs, bent a little awkwardly - but not broken - and he traces them up to her head and torso - which was tightly strapped against the seat. it was the only thing keeping her from falling onto the floor, and her heads hanging. she's definitely not conscious, and he can't help but feel his heart sink as he steps closer - ankle be damned - reaching through the broken glass to unstrap her. when he does, her body flops forward - as he believed it would - a bit like a ragdoll and, though the angle definitely didn't help, he did his best to pull her out. when he could finally observe her in the sunlight, he could feel his chest swell in relief at the movement of her chest up and down. pulling her towards him, he could feel her breath against his neck.

so relieved, he doesn't realize, for a moment, the shallowness of those breaths, and the dampness of the cloth around her shoulder. when he does, though, he desperately removes the fabric. he winces at the sight, having to look away for a moment, before looking back down to observe the extent of her injury.

her upper arm got a long, deep gash, and the blood from it had soaked through her sleeve. not wasting a moment, he slides the sleeves of his own jacket off, tearing a thick, long strap from the t-shirt he wore under it. he wraps it as tightly as he can manager around her arm to staunch any further bleeding, hoping it wasn't too late, and trying desperately to ignore the small whimpers or stuttered breaths that she let out at the action.

he rises to his feet, a difficult task, in his condition, and notices a small shade of trees just a bit away from the pair. breathing deeply - almost in an effort to will away his pain - he grabs her good arm and pulls it over his shoulder, hoping his good leg wouldn't give out, as he makes his way there.

she wakes up in a cold sweat, looking up to see the large leaves of a tree under the backdrop of an orange sky. she scrambles to sit up in a moment, unable to fully comprehend her surroundings. her heart's going a mile a minute, her body entering fight or flight mode, before she hears his voice.

"you're alright - you're good. m'here." she recognizes his voice more quickly than she'd maybe be willing to admit and, when she goes to turn to the source of it, she feels a scream of agony in her arm. her sharp grunt of pain is louder than she maybe had hoped, but fuck - did her arm hurt, "yeah - uh, you've got a bad cut." his voice is soft, as if he were trying to lull her into a sense of calm.

it worked. for a moment.

until she remembered what happened. the tie-fighters, her pleads to go the hyperspace, the engine failing, the jolt of the impact of the straps holding her body in place, the blood in her hair from the open wound on her arm, her head going blank and her passing out from the pain.

she remembered all of it. including what he'd said.

'we've got this'

there's a lump in her throat, and she desperately tries to swallow it down as she stares vehemently at the dirt under her. she refuses to look up at him, and hopes he realizes why.

"do - does anyone know we're here?" her voice is more broken than she'd hoped it was but - fuck, she was scared. she can see him shrug in her peripheral.

"i'm sure they'll find us." she sighs deeply, turning away to the extent that she can. there's a calm, though cold, silence between them, before she can hear him sharply inhale.

"helluva trip, huh?" there's a jokey cadence to his voice, and it takes her a moment to actually process what he's said, his casual tongue actually igniting a rageful fire in her.

"what?" it's a whisper - backed by such an anger that she worries if she speaks louder, she'll scream.

"i'm just saying - pretty, uh, pretty crazy thing, right?" she shuts her eyes, and a small part of her brain knows that, at best, this is his way of making the best of a bad situation and, at worst, this is just some shit attempt at small talk. but - be it his words in the past, or the pain of her arm, or maybe even just the fact that all she could hear was his confident words like a low buzz in her ears since she remembered what he'd said - she was furious.

"yeah - it's fucking insane how i'm lightheaded because of all the blood i lost, and how i can't move a centimeter without wanting to cut my arm off, and how i can feel the bruises forming where the straps kept me from splitting my skull open on my broken window. it's a helluva experience." her words are softer than she'd thought they would be, but she knew if she was any louder, she may have screamed at him until her lungs collapsed or her throat gave out - whichever came later.

she doesn't have to turn back to see the expression on his face, and, truly she feels a bit shit for lashing out at him.

but she was on a random fucking planet with a mangled fucking arm and her only company was a pilot with no fucking plane.

so, excuse her for the outburst.

"i-" poe's stammering behind her, but she can't hear it, as her vision swims when she tries to get on her feet. she can see the ship in the distance, and knowing that it was her best bet at company right now, she trudges towards it, "where're you going?"

she doesn't dignify him with an answer.

when she finally reaches the large structure, she situates herself against the pilot's dashboard, gently kicking away the broken glass as she tentatively crouches down. she looks over the panel, hoping that at least one of the comms was still working. she procures her screwdriver with her good arm - well, technically not, but at least it didn't hurt all that much to move - before lightly tapping the back of it against any and all of the buttons, seeing if anything worked.

her arm now had a dull, thrumming pain, and she desperately tried to ignore it as she focuses on identifying what the comms were. she traces over a panel that seems to be promising, pulling the screwdriver towards it to see if she could meddle with any of the circuitry under it to get it to work - however briefly.

pulling it up, she realizes both the awkwardness of her position, and of her grip on the tool, unused to using this hand for it. her muscles ached, her arm ached, her temples ached as she desperately tried to slot the head of the tool into the screw, failing once, twice, thrice, before dropping the tool with a groan of anguish.

she's heaving - no, sobbing, feeling the liquid of her tears roll down her cheeks. she slumps against the glass, palming her cheeks as she desperately tried to muffle her exhausted weeping, only the sound of her small hiccups escaping.

she hated getting like this - crying out in the open, and she only reserved the ordeal for true upsets. though, this was one of them. she was so tired, and in so much pain, and she'd just been so horrible to poe as well - when he'd just tried to lighten her mood.

through the blood rushing in her ears and the motion of her hiccups, she doesn't realize the heavy thuds of poe's limping steps. she only realizes when he's in front of her, blocking the dimming sunlight from her eyes, and she covers her face entirely, not wanting to see her in this state.

he doesn't comment, though, only falling to his own haunches before sitting beside her, granting a respectful silence and, more importantly, friendly contact.

she swallows harshly as she forces her hiccups down. she doesn't look at him, worried it'd make her start up again, but he knows she's not uncomfortable with him there.

taking her good hand, he gently drops an opened bag of nuts. she looks at it, a bit confused.

"always keep 'em on me. emergency snack." he says it so casually and, it being contrasted with the slight childishness of the information, makes her crack the hint of a smile.

maybe she was hysterical.

"- hope they'll make you feel better." he continues, and she nods, popping one in her mouth and absorbing the mild, sweet taste.

"thanks - thanks." she mumbles, and they're quiet for another moment.

she hands them back to her, and, in that moment of contact, he notices her cold skin. he glances over her, realizing her thin top without a sleeve, and he shrugs off his jacket. it's a bit mucked up from the crash, but it's better than nothing.

tentatively, he moves a bit closer to her, gently placing the material around her, careful of her arm. still she winces - but only for a moment. really, she's more confused.

"what're you doing?" she whispers, and he's close enough to hear her now.

"you're cold." he's not wrong, but she still protests.

"and you?" he smiles.

"well, i'm pretty hot-headed. i'll be fine." it's a joke, and she really wants to laugh at it, but she can't help but feel bad once again for her words. taking it differently, poe continues solemnly. “i’m sorry.”

it’s a quiet mumble into the still air. it sounds foreign, coming from his mouth, as he tries to fit the extent of how apologetic and shitty he feels into the fleeting, overused phrase. she stays quiet, the only noise being her soft exhales.

“i - i know.” she mumbles back, unsure of what more to say. of course he was - he’d never intended for this. nonetheless, he’d been subject to her own emotions, to an unjustifiable degree, “i am, too.”

his contemplative expression returns a smile instead, now, and she finally turns to look at him.

"i'll buy us a drink when we get back, okay?" he offers, making her scoff.

"you're so great at apologies." he shrugs, as though it's obvious fact, and not a light jab.

"then what about dinner?" her eyes widen a little at the proposition, and she's speechless for a moment. then, she snorts, pushing her good hand across his face and playfully pushing him.

"get us out of here; then, we can talk about dinner." he smiles widely under her palm, and laughs as she takes her hand off. he leans back just that bit further against the metal, and the readjustment causes the dashboard to shift just slightly.

a small item comes rolling down, and falls right in his lap. he grasps at it and, realizing what it is, his eyes widen. he brandishes it in between the both of them, and she also realizes: it's his earpiece.

he gently presses the input button, and immediately starts calling out for finn, rose or pala. they wait a moment, with baited breath.

"poe - kriff, we thought you were dead!" finn's voice is unmistakable, and the revelation makes the pair's spirits soar.

in no less than a couple minutes were the told that a ship was coming by to collect them, and, as the earpiece's output stops for the moment, she rests more peacefully against the destroyed ship, and he mirrored her movements.

"so, about that dinner?"

#poe dameron #poe dameron oneshot #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fluff #poe dameron angst #star wars #star wars sequel trilogy #oscar isaac #reckless abandon

[yaut-jaknowit]

Okay but now I started thinking on how would an argument with Gawtin go? Also, glad to be back to pester you💪

An Argument with Gawtin

Pairing: Gawtin (Female Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1247 (Couldn't help it)

Summary: Like dominos falling in line, things build up until the dam can't handle it. The stress, the cracks. The two of you are a tornado, feeding off of each other.

Author Note: I decided to do this a little different than I usual do this. I have off feelings about angst, like arguments and you might see it here. To be honest, Gawtin doesn't get anger often, rarely at all. Thank you Kissmyaft! I love it when you come to give me phenomenal ideas such as this!

P.s. I decided to create a Kofi since I believe my page has grown to a reasonable amount. If you want tip or buy me a coffee, you're more than welcome to. If you don't want to, that's okay! I make my content free because I know the frustrations when the good shit is hidden behind paywalls. My Kofi link is on my Masterlist page

Masterlist

Ao3

Part 2

Honestly, Gawtin and Reader don’t fight very often. Some disagreements, of course. Some miscommunications. We are talking about two different species, cultures.

But Gawtin doesn’t like to feed into anger. She, like most other females, are cooler minded than their male counterparts. They know how to discuss their issues than result to straight violence. Fights do break out when no one can’t come to an agreement. Nothing that could kill the other though.

When an argument happens, it’s when both are at end of their lines. Gawtin is stressed out from Qui’oky or something with the village. She brings it home with her unfortunately.

Reader has had some trouble still adapting to the new planet or being homesick or worrying over Gawtin. That sets off Gawtin even more. The two of them feeding on each other’s energy.

Reader wants to be left alone, unsure if someone around will help them. In the heat of the moment, words are exchanged. Unfortunately.

Gawtin, no matter how enraged she ever becomes will never, ever, hit you. Yes, for Yautjas, fighting and violence is normal. But you aren’t Yautja. You are weaker than her. It’s just fact. She’s okay with that.

“Can you just fuck off already?” you snapped when Gawtin entered your art room. The door had slid back to reveal the hulking green form that made up Gawtin. Her purple eyes pinned on you sitting at your desk, trying to distract yourself.

Like two demons feeding on each other, you consumed the other’s energy. Like a tornado starting to form or even a hurricane. She had arrived home, pissed off. Someone had gotten under her skin and caused her to be a raging bitch currently. As her wonderful mate, you wanted nothing more to rid her of this unease.

But she just threw it all back in your face.

Qui’oky was set down for a cranky nap in Gawtin’s room. Poor thing sounded tired from missing a nap from this morning. He kept fussing for a bit. Since you knew Gawtin wasn’t wanting to speak with you when she dismissed you harshly, you just went to hide away in your art room. The safe haven that she had gifted to you once she took notice of your skill of wielding a pencil.

A gruff scoff met your ears. You huffed with a roll of your eyes but kept your sight on the blank page before you. It felt not only was that taunting you but Gawtin too. She had to come in here after dismissing you. Didn’t just say she didn’t want you around her and to go away? Dismissed like a measly pet.

“All you do is whine,” she grunted back at you. You head whipped up, back still towards the Yautja. Your nostrils flared in an attempt not to spin around give a piece of your mind. All the shit she’s made you put up with from the first day you met her in that damn forest. For all that you cared for, you could’ve just left her to bleed out! Or let the fucking soldiers take her!

Instantly, you felt regret at the thought and tried to calm yourself down. That didn’t stop the need to cry rise up inside of you.

“Well, you ruined fucking everything in my normal life,” you returned fire, hand grasping the pencil. The wood groaned at the pressure. Your knuckles turning white.

Another scoff. Soft, pitter-patter of feet glided across the floor until the beast was hovering behind you. Her blazing heat boring down on your hunched over form. “Ruined? I’ve given you everything as my mate. How have I ruined ‘everything’?”

A massive palm was placed on the small open space on the desk. This allowed her to bend her body more over you, blanketing you in her shadow. The pencil creaked again. “By taking me here! I don’t belong here. You took me from everything. My home. My family. My friends.”

“I think you are misremembering things, ooman. It was your choice to come with me. You saved me, I could not kill you after I owe you my life and Qui’oky. Why are you so angry?” she growled, nails digging into the wood of your table. That seemed to tick you off more. She was destroying your things.

“I have a right to be angry! You ruined everything. My life is forever stuck here because of you. I’ll die here, on a planet so far from home,” you bite out then finally whipped around in your chair to face her. Gawtin did not move. She stayed sturdy like an oak tree. You bumped into her only to be knocked against your table. It was the only thing holding you up. That didn’t stop you from glaring the Yautja right in the eye and baring your teeth. Something you learned from your time in her culture.

Her mandibles bristled at the sight. A growl starting deep in her chest as she glared down at your unwavering form. “Then, go back. Leave. Go back. Go back home.” That last word was spat out with such disgust, spit hitting your face.

Realization smacked you harder, harder than anyone or thing could. Words said in the heat of the moment but she was telling you to leave. This wasn’t your home, not in her eyes. And that hurt. You felt the way your chest tightened and twisted like a serrated knife lodged there. Tears, hot and burning pooled in your eyes, throat threatening to close up.

Gawtin grunted and leaned down so close her mandibles barely brushed against your cheeks. “Are you going to cry now?” she mocked with a look of distain on her alien face. When you took a deep breath in to cool your nerves, your breath hitched, catching on the lump building in your throat. By god, you were on the verge of breaking down right in front of her.

Something you refused to do. You steeled your nerves, stood up, shoulders back, and got impossibly closer to her face. An act she wasn’t expecting. “Get out.” She raised her gem-studded brow. “Get out!” you shouted at Gawtin, full force. This was your area, your space, your safe haven in this fucked up world you’ve been brought to. Somewhere to go.

Chittering cries echoed out in the hall. Shit. Your breath hitched. Qui’oky had been awoken by your yelling. Guilt dripped into your veins at the sound of his crying. Gawtin huffed that ended in a throaty growl before standing up and marching out of the room.

Once the door slid closed behind her, your whole body nearly went completely lax. Anger still simmered beneath your skin. Yet, sorrow followed in its wake. You bowed your head to calm yourself before plopping down in your seat. The chair squeaking at the new weight. You hated arguing. With her of all people too.

In your hand, you let the pencil go. It’s now shattered pieces falling onto the wooden table. You groaned and placed your head in your hands, fretting over how to fix this.

Hot, fresh tears wettened the wood underneath you. ‘Go back home.’ You flinched as Gawtin’s words echoed back at you in the silence of your room. Qui’oky’s voice barely coming through the door. You clutched your hair at the thought of her not wanting you anymore. Had you just ruined everything?

Heh, it wasn’t her that ruined everything. No. You just did that.

#yautja #predator #yautja x reader #yautja x you #alien vs predator #predator x reader #yautja x human #predator x you #predator x human #x reader #Gawtin

[lovingperfectionsblog]

Listen Carefully

Charles Leclerc x F1Driver!Reader

Request: how does a piece based on "lay all your love on me" with a f1!driver reader x charles leclerc sound, only if you want to tho xx

Summary:  Charles was your rival on track, but that didn’t stop you falling for him and him for you and now you’d have to navigate this new territory with him.

Warnings: Mentions of sex, suggestive language, language, angst, angst to fluff, mentions of drinking, mentions of an potential accident.

Word Count: 2439

Authors note: Listen, I am obsessed with these angst to fluff fics and I am so sorry there isn’t too much funny stuff being written right now but crisis these have to be my favourite trope types :D I hope you all enjoy and I can’t wait to hear what you think. Also, definitely not edited or proofread.

_____

“My room, tonight, 9pm” Charles whispered in your ear as he hugged you congratulations, trying to keep it as short as possible as to not rouse suspicion from anyone currently surrounding the two of you.

You’d barely even reacted to him, acting as normal as possible as you gave a small nod, playing it off as acknowledgement before stepping around him to speak to the journalist he had just finished with, preparing yourself for the onslaught of questions as to why you’d done so poorly in comparison to your rival, the aforementioned Charles Leclerc, him making pole, you only coming in a measly P7, which in the bigger scheme of things wasn’t the worst, but after a string of front row starts which had basically solidified your rivalry with the Ferrari driver, it was goddman abysmal.

Although knowing you were going to be spending the night with said rival didn’t exactly upset you in the least. Quite honestly, you knew you’d now be sitting with butterflies in your stomach for the rest of the day, until you were back in his bed again, only a few hours away.

All through your briefing you’d focused only on Charles, knowing you were meant to be significantly more invested in what was happening in front of you, but your mind couldn’t help but drift, wondering if he was just as focused on you, counting down the seconds to when you could be together again.

It was a short lived excitement.

_____

You begged yourself not to cry as you opened your door. Begged yourself not to give him the satisfaction.

The image of him being kissed by another woman seared into the back of your eyelids, unable to escape it even when you’d closed your eyes.

As you squeezed them shut.

Pleading with the image to go.

Begging.

Begging yourself to remember this was not a relationship.

That it was just fun.

Begging yourself to remember he was never yours. He was allowed to kiss other women. He was free to do what he pleased.

You moved slow.

Slowly undressing.

Slowly pulling the covers back.

Slowly allowing yourself to get lost in the darkness of the room.

Slowly feeling the ache in your chest deepen. Feeling it hollow out more and more.

Slowly letting the tears choke you.

Never succumbing to sleep.

Begging for him to choose you.

_____

It looks like the rivalry has stepped up this race ladies and gentlemen. Y/n moving up to P2 in just a few laps, an aggression we have yet to see from this driver. No doubt Ferrari is suddenly feeling very nervous with her breathing down the back of Leclerc’s neck.

And in a stunning move we see Y/n and Leclerc wheel to wheel in an attempt to overtake! Neither willing to relent the line! Who is going to come out on top!

And Y/n takes P1, but not without Leclerc very close on her tail.

Ladies and gentlemen what is going on here today! Never have we seen these two go at it so aggressively. This has moved beyond normal rivalry, this is angry.

I fully agree, something must have happened today in the paddock to spur the fight between these two normally incredibly civil rivals.

Now that you mention it, normally Y/n is seen as one of the friendliest drivers next to Daniel Ricciardo, yet no one saw her until she needed to be on the grid and even then she did not even glance in the direction of another person.

And Leclerc overtakes her again! With only two laps to go it’s anyone guess who takes the win here!

With one of the closest finishes we have seen between these two in the 2022 season, Leclerc takes the win in Monza! With Y/n a very close second behind him and Carlos Sainz to take third, making this a very red podium and a very happy Ferrari!

_____

“What the fuck was that!” Charles slammed your hotel door closed as he moved into the room. Breathe ragged from rage.

“Racing Charles. We’re formula 1 drivers, this is what we do! What are you so upset about anyway, you’re the one who won!” you matched his tone, knowing exactly what he was talking about but determined to make him hurt, just like he had you.

“You know exactly what I’m fucking talking about!” Charles ripped the sunglasses off of his face and slammed them onto the table in a fit of anger, “That was reckless and stupid and I don’t know what your fucking problem is today but you could have caused actual damage! Do you get that! Actual fucking damage! I COULD HAVE FUCKING LOST YOU!”

“And since when do you care about losing me! We all know that all this is, is hate fucking!” You didn’t mean that, but you hadn’t even realized you’d said it until you watched a range of emotions cross his face, and when it settled on what you could only assume was a mixture of grief and wrath, only then did you genuinely experience the full weight of your actions.

“Hate fucking?” it was a whisper so low, if you hadn’t been watching his every move you might have missed it, save for seeing his lips move, “you hate me?” it was no less chilling that his previous question.

“No Charles, I don’t hate you, but we know what this is” you indicated between the two of you, the venom never leaving either of your voices, somehow more terrifying now that you were both significantly quieter.

“And tell me then Princess, what do you think this is then?” you felt like prey. As much as you were watching his every move, he was watching yours too, and for some reason he seemed a significantly better hunter than you.

“Is this not just two rivals getting the anger out then is it?” You tried so desperately to sound confident, but even you heard the unsurety in your voice, genuinely asking him a question, because after what you’d witnessed yesterday, it had only solidified that this is what you two were, forcing you to immediately push down any and all feelings that had grown for him over the last few months all the way down.

“And have I made you feel like I hate you?” he stepped closer, slowly caging you in, stalking you. You hated how sure he had sounded in contrast you, almost like he knew the answer, like he was simply asking you to tease you.

“YES! YOU FUCKING HAVE!” your outburst had finally made him falter, concern replacing the confidence previously spirted on his face.

“When.” It wasn’t a kind question, it was a demand. He gave you know other option other than to answer honestly, and immediately, because if Charles had made the woman he loves, the woman he would give his life for, think that he hates her, then he needed to rectify that.

“yesterday” the image of the girl came back up, “it’s stupid, it’s done, leave it, please, just leave” you were once again begging.

“No, it’s not stupid, what happened yesterday?” you hadn’t expected him to soften as much as he had, so soft you’d almost expected him to reach out to you, but he stood planted on the spot. Not for the first time he was feeling a protectiveness over you, but what he hadn’t experienced before was the knowledge that he had caused the pain, how does he protect you, from him?

“I saw you kissing another girl” you didn’t want to sound pathetic, but you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t help a lot of things when you were around Charles.

“Are you jealous?” Charles was surprised by the confession, not entirely believing that was the reason for this behaviour, in complete denial that you felt the same for him as he had for you. The question was not a mocking one, although that’s exactly how it had come out, instead it was one of complete shock.

“YES I AM FUCKING JEALOUS!” you were back to angry, how could he be so cruel to you in this moment, surely he realized how you felt, “and I hate myself for it because I know I was never meant to fall for you, I know, it’s a fucking joke that I did, but how could I not Charles, I have had feelings for you for months and they only got worse when we started whatever the fuck stupid idea this was and this is not what it was meant to be, I was never meant to fall for you and now-“ you couldn’t finish, you couldn’t confess anymore.

“-and now it’s like you can’t breathe unless I’m there? Like you can’t focus, ever? Like nothing you’ve ever felt before has completely consumed you quite like this has?” he finished for you.

“You’re being mean Charles” you felt the tears start to brim, you didn’t think he was cruel, but this was torture how he was treating you.

“No, I’m speaking from experience” the ache in your chest had returned, the grip around your throat choking you, “that girl surprised me, she’s one of Lando’s friends, been trying to get with me for months” the wound in your chest only becoming deeper, “I told her I’m in love with someone else.” The final blow.

“Is this why you didn’t come to my room last night?” he sounded closer, his feet coming into view of your downcast eyes, a quiet “yes” was given in return as an answer.

Your eyes shot up to his as you felt his hand rest against your neck, the other coming to cup your cheek.

“Want to know something funny?” only continuing as you gave him a small nod, “I was dumb enough to fall in love with my biggest rival and so, because I was so convinced she would never feel the same for me, because God knows she could have any fucking person in the world, let alone on that grid, I, one drunken night, suggested we sleep together, and I was lucky enough that, well, for months I got to have this part of her, I got to live out my ultimate dream of being with the woman I love, even for the briefest of moments, because if that’s all I got, then god knows I was not going to waste the small hours that I did, and because I just assumed I had somehow convinced her I was good at sex, and because I am dumb and apparently a coward, I just never broached the topic of a relationship with her because what if she didn’t feel the same and I lost her? What if because we were rivals she would never see me as anything other than a hate fuck and too much effort to try something with because we are on different teams? So I kept my mouth shut, and then that same woman, the one that I am in love with-” he looked down at you, thumb caressing your cheek, waiting for acknowledgement that you had understood, only continuing after another nod, “she nearly fucking killed us both today and I thought I would be mad that she, you know, nearly fucking killed us both, but no, I was angry because I was scared that I could have lost her, I felt it in my blood, and so I made the choice to come to her room and end things in all my rage, to save her, to hopefully never upset her enough again so something like this could never happen again, because all that was going through my head was that I had done something and I needed to protect the woman I love and I would rather not have her as mine, than not have her in my life at all because she is the most goddamn hot headed and stubborn woman I have ever met and quite frankly a fucking danger to herself” he wiped the tear that had drifted down your cheek.

“And no part of me expected to hear that she loved me too, no part of me expected that at the end of this day I would have her as my girlfriend, because that’s the only option now that I know she feels the same as I do, funny how things work out like that isn’t it?” His lips were so close to yours, his touch was so gentle, so full of love, you almost felt stupid for ever thinking that he hadn’t felt the same as you did.

“Say it, please, I just need to hear you say it” he refused to kiss you until he heard it, until he was 100% sure because the second he heard it, every single thing was going to be different.

“I love you” he was so close you felt the sigh of relief leave him, one you hadn’t expected, signifying how terrified he actually was by all that had been confessed.

“I love you too” he was so sure in the statement and if you weren’t sure by his statement alone, the kiss that followed after would dismiss any further doubts.

“Now, listen and listen carefully, I hate that I made you feel this way and I hate that things got so dangerous today and I hate that I could have lost you and I hate that I have been a coward and most importantly, I absolutely hate that things could have been different for months now” his gaze had shifted to that of a hunter once again, hungry, needy.

“So now I am going to hate fuck you, but just so that pretty little head of yours understands just how much I love you, am I understood?” you’d felt his grip on you tighten and you couldn’t help your own neediness grow evident on your face, doe eyes looking up into his darkened ones.

“And make sure I never forget it, please.”

____ Taglist: ricsaigaslec, amulhermaisfelizdomundo, miniminescapist, 0-atmilk-latte.

#Charles Leclerc #Charles Leclerc x Reader #Charles Leclerc x you #x reader #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #monaco #f1 x reader #charles leclerc #Angst to Fluff

[wasabidottie]

Dot's Masterlist

note: this is my measly first attempt at a masterlist so pls lmk if there is anything i can do to make it better.

faves: ☆ fluff: ♡ angst: ♢

Jschlatt:

Vanilla ☆ ♢

Kenergy ♡

Cash or card ♡

I don't hate your guts ☆

Grocery store

Polaroids ♢

Brothers best friend, pt1, pt2, pt3

She needs him ♢

My boy ☆ ♡

Delay

Midnight swim ☆

Pumpkin spice ♡

The museum

Nail polish ☆ ♡

You're drunk, pt2, pt3♢

A touch of pink ♡

Notes

Tipsy ☆ ♡

Jess Mariano

A change in attitude

Bandages ♡

Walmart blue ♡

Frosting ♡

Nathan Prescott

Loser monologue ☆ ♢

#jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #jess mariano #jschlatt #jess mariano x reader #nathan prescott x reader #masterlist

[beanyboi173thegoober]

'I'm not going anywhere' angst prompt with Moon and Y/N?

Ah, finally, a request! :D With pleasure, anon!

'I'm not going anywhere' with Moon x Security Guard! Y/N, I think hurt/comfort?

CW and TW// anxiety/panic attack, overstimulation, intrusive thoughts, internalized ableism, thoughts of dying

^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^

So far, your shift has been horrible. Genuinely horrible.

First, when you picked up your flashlight and fazwatch you realised you hadn't taken your anxiety medication. The darkness and constant, low whirring of machinery was already getting to you, and you dreaded the night-long shift ahead of you. You had never come to work unmedicated before, so for the first time, you were overly aware of every little sound and space in your vicinity.

Being overly aware wasn't the worst of it, though. Your nerves were already high, medication or not. You'd recently read up on Fazbear Industries' history. The fire, the break-ins, and worst of it all, the virus? A virus that infected not just the animatronics, but people? What if the virus was still clinging to the bots' codes? If it was still hanging around, are you safe? Are your coworkers safe? Are the children safe? You had no idea, and the uncertainty was tearing you apart.

You didn't have the clearance or experience to put yourself at ease. You were just a measly security guard (and apparently a janitor sometimes, according to management). You couldn't go rooting around in their code without badly messing something up. A single tapped key on a line of code could mean the end of the bots, or you. You'd rather not risk that, even if you had the clearance.

Walking into the arcade was probably what set you off. It was a very wide, dark area without the neon lights. You wished you could say it was eerily quiet, but you couldn't. Not when all around you you could hear the loud screech of the electricity circling through each and every machine and light source. Somewhere nearby was a dripping sound. Something else was making an almost morse code-like beeping pattern, barely audible. Staff bots were all throughout the area, cleaning, and moving constantly.

You badly needed somewhere actually quiet. No machinery, no movement, nothing hard on the eyes. The nearest janitor's closet would have to do. You did your best to seem calm as you walked into it, then discreetly stepped inside.

The closet was pretty spacious for a janitor's closet. About a metre in floor space, dark, and smelling of cleaning solutions and dust. You sat yourself down in the back left corner since it seemed the least likely to have spiders.

While attempting to calm yourself, your mind wandered. You were supposed to be working right now. You were taking an unscheduled break when you were supposed to make sure the plex was safe. What if someone broke in while you were slacking off? What if an animatronic went rampant while you were sitting on your butt, hiding away in a closet because 'tHe SiLeNce WaS tOo LoUd"?

Either would probably kill you before you left. Why leave a witness, right? It may be dark, but that wouldn't stop anyone with good eyesight, or worse, someone who could see in the dark.

They probably were already trying to find you. Or they did find you. You're not exactly very quiet. Your heartbeat had sped up, so a rampaged robot would definitely sense that.

You heard a bang somewhere outside. Probably in the arcade you were just in. So it was a bot who decided to come kill you? You knew what the bots were like. You didn't stand a chance and you knew it.

You hadn't noticed your breathing pick up. Or the tears beginning to spill down your cheeks. You were too busy sinking into your own thoughts.

The door pushed open. You held your breath and flinched, anticipating a fatal blow. Your gaze was met by bright, glaring red eyes.

Of course, it was the Moon animatronic. You'd read about what he was like with the virus. Murderous, violent. He traumatized children at nap time and his... 'discipline' seemed to get more harsh. Out of all the robots, of course this one would have it out for the security guard.

There was a hand on your shoulder. You jumped and screamed, curling yourself into a ball in attempt to save yourself. The hand lifted quickly at your reaction.

You heard the deep voice of the lunar daycare attendant warily say your name. He said it cautiously like you would break at any second. You slightly uncurled yourself. He repeated your name.

"Do you think you could count to ten with me?" He asked you. You wordlessly nodded. He held up his large hands in front of himself, closed.

You counted along with him with a shakey voice. His fingers raised for each number you both spoke. When you two finished counting, you realised he was grounding you. You felt a tear slip down your face, and you quickly wiped it away along with the rest.

You had psyched yourself out so badly that you thought Moon was going to kill you. That left a really bad taste in you mouth, but he didn't know that, so you figured you wouldn't mention it. You just sat in silence.

He broke it. "I'm sorry for startling you. As the closest to your position, I was alerted to your high heart rate via your fazwatch. I searched for you in the arcade area first, since it was where you were shown to be, so I took a while to find you." He spoke, his gravelly, surprisingly handsome voice calming you further. He lifted out a hand, offering to help you up, and you took it.

He was far taller than you'd expected. He looked about 60 centimetres taller than you, maybe more. His arms alone were longer than your own torso. His jester-like design and colour scheme added a fair amount of charm to his appearance.

"I- Uh... I'm sorry for taking up your time. You should probably get back to your patrol." You choked a bit. You couldn't meet his eyes. You still felt bad about your assumptions from earlier.

"I'm not going anywhere." He said flatly. You baulked.

"W-why?" You started.

"Your heart rate hasn't fully returned to its normal pace. Also, I think a patrol would be more efficient with two." He looked down to you.

"Don't you normally patrol alone?" You asked.

"Shhh." He pressed a finger to your lips. You blinked for a second. Did... did he actually just shush you? You began to laugh.

His eyes seemed to light up a bit as you laughed, and his grin widened. You finally met his eyes. Smiling back at him, you put your finger against his face plate's mouth.

"You shush if that's how this is going to go," you say without malice. A dark chuckle comes out of his voicebox. Without warning he lifts you up and holds you like a sack of potatoes under his arm.

"W- Hey!" You yell and flail, smiling. "Lemme go! You said two is better for patrol! I can't patrol like this!"

"Cope," is all Moon shoots back with.

You end up spending the rest of your shift with Moon. You hope you can have a shift with him again soon. You were so distracted by him that you never noticed the machines' whirrings, or any other sounds than the two of you for that matter. He was really good company.

Maybe your shift was good. Genuinely good.

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