#er relationship issues | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lilac-5ky · 7 months

Text

Holed Up (Husband!Toji x Fem!Reader)

mini kinktober tribute: stuck in a wall/hole

plot: you should've known that asking Toji to help you out of a hole would lead him inside another—or that time you got stuck in the dog house and he bailed on you for KFC.

tags: MDNI, stuck in a wall/hole, pet play (kinda), breeding, doggy style, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), spanking, pet names (bitch, baby), established relationship, crack plot, unsolicited kfc orders, i promise toji loves reader, he's just joking guys.

wc: 2.2k

Masterlist | Kinktober Masterlist | AO3

“Whatcha doing?”

Sarcasm rolls from your husband’s tongue as he stares down at you. Back arched, knees bent, and head encased by wooden planks. Not the most flattering position to be found in, especially with how the light autumn breeze blows at your dress and parts its layers, opening a window to the pink panties of your choice.

His question feels excessive. He knows exactly what you are doing. It was only this morning that you asked him to dig poor ol’ Mister Stinky’s remains from the dog house and he claimed he’d rather buy his son a replacement. No arguing there, but should Megumi see what became of his favored stuffed animal—fuzzy entrails gutted out of the frog’s shredded belly in a path initiating from his bedroom—he’ll be having nightmares for weeks to come.

Besides, you doubt synthetic is the kind of fiber your vet prescribed for your puppy's diet.

“What you should’ve done instead.” You finally spit out, contempt over what Toji’s long fingers could’ve accomplished without him needing to stick half his body into a hole like your, admittedly, dumbass self did.

“For thirty minutes straight? Damn, seems I overestimated ya.”

Even though your view of him is limited to a pair of overworn black slippers, you can vividly picture his scarred lips pulling over his teeth in another of his complacent smirks that scream I told you so.

“Don’t have anything better to do than time me?”

“Nah,” Toji drawls. “Grew tired of waiting on ya, so I thought I’d come see how it’s going.”

“It’s going great!” You lie through your teeth. Anyone with a functioning pair of eyes could see how non-great this is going. “Anything else you need?”

“Well it is noon.” He points out.

“And?”

“And my darling wife’s out ‘ere, rolling in the mud when she should be having lunch with me.”

A snort flares in your nostrils. He is unbelievable.

“What a cute way of letting me know you’re hungry, Toji. You know, if you’d actually helped, I would’ve had the time to set the table and give Mister Stinky a proper burial, but I can’t do both at the same time, can I?”

“Mhm, so how ‘bout we help each other?” He suggests, undeterred. “I get your ass out, and you cook us somethin’ tasty real quick.”

“Wh-who said I was stuck? I can get out whenever I want.”

“Really, huh? What keeps ya from getting out this instant, then?”

“I don’t want to.” You answer wryly. “I like it here. It’s quiet, and I could use some time for myself.”

“In the dog house.” His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth. He’s not buying an ounce of what you’re selling. “C’mon, don’t be stubborn. You’ll end up reeking of dung if ya stay here a minute longer. Lemme give ya a hand.”

You know that accepting his help comes at the exorbitant price of utter humiliation, but he’s got a point. Last night’s downpour emanates strongly from the saturated wood, a dizzying smell that turns overwhelming when combined with the strong odor of what you sincerely hope is not piss. Your knees are on the verge of collapsing, and there’s more dirt in your nails than if you dug a grave barehanded. Right now, a day in the bathtub seems like a panacea for your every issue.

Almost.

Kissing your teeth, you resign with a long-drawn sigh that’s barely audible over the rumble in your stomach. You shouldn’t have skipped breakfast.

A moment passes before you hear the crunch of leaves as they rustle beneath his feet; see a second pair of knees take place between your own. Then it’s two hands gripping at your hips, and eventually, a face—your husband’s handsome face that beams with a smug smile and eyes of mischief.

“Lookin’ good, sweetheart.” He greets, though you doubt he sees your face with all the hair that’s curtaining over your eyes while you hang upside down.

“What are you doing, Toji?” You recycle his question in an aggravated tone that fizzles out the second you feel his thumb press against your panties and tug the fabric to the side.

“Nothin’. Just curbing my hunger.” His finger teasingly glides across your nether lips and lands at your clit, while a palm large enough to envelope both your ass and cunt kneads at the tender flesh he’s offered. “Fridge’s empty, so.”

“This isn’t funny!”

“‘m not laughing, but c’mon. You hafta admit it’s pretty damn funny.” Warm air wafts from Toji’s mouth as he inches closer to your thighs. “Y’always whine when I fuck you from behind, but now? Look at you. Bent on all four like a real bitch.”

“T-Toji!”

Your breath hitches in your throat as he slides two fingers in your hole, languidly scissoring them in and out until there’s enough slick to lather your clit with. He circles around the nub while his fingers prod deeper inside, the icy touch of his wedding band clashing with the heat that sparks through your body when he bottoms out. A smothered moan gains echo as it bounces off the walls and into his ears.

“Such a well-trained pup,” Toji praises, retrieving his palm to lick his fingers. “Might win yourself a collar at this rate.”

You bite back your tongue before it can react to his backhanded comment, reminding yourself that you’re still outside, right where your neighbors can peek over the white picket fence for a quick hello and catch you slutting yourself out on your husband’s fingers.

“Can’t we continue this inside? Mrs. Honda is right next door, and M-Megumi—” You stutter when his palm returns to your body, its twin joining in spreading your cheeks further apart.

“Kid’s at school for another hour,” Toji mumbles, his hot tongue parting your folds with a long stroke that has your knees buckling. “So fuckin’ good,” he groans, his nose buried between your two holes while he lazily laps at your juices. “That sweet cunt is the reason why I married ya.”

You keen to his touch, hips bucking into his mouth, and walls clenching for more. “Only reason?”

“Nah. Consider that tight little ass as the second.”

His fingers burrow into the supple skin to squeeze at it, only lifting to deliver playful smacks that cause your ass to jiggle against his face. He growls into your pussy, mouthing all sorts of filth that gets drowned by your moans. It feels so good when he eats you out—it always does—but the probability of being caught in such a compromising position adds to the excitement.

The hand that’s trapped with you inside your pet’s house scratches at the wood, while the other rakes at the soil for grounding. Your orgasm creeps up on you, turning your vision blurry and tinting the darkness of space with colored specks. You are so close; all he needs to do is keep swirling at your clit, swallowing the entire bundle of nerves in his mouth, and sucking hard until—

“Ah, right.” He stops, words slurring from the threads of saliva that link his mouth with your cunt. “You said ya wanted time with yourself.”

Anger washes over you in place of the orgasm you were robbed of, the pleasurable fireworks traded for the obnoxious red alarm that goes off in your brain. “Toji, I swear to God, if you don’t fuck me right fucking now, the only lunch you’ll be seeing is KFC buckets for the rest of your life!”

A low chuckle falls flat from his lips. “Three. I love that snappy mouth ‘f yours.”

In an attempt to meet his eyes, you duck between your legs. Your hair mops the floor as you watch him pull down his pants and boxers, the last thing you see before blood shoots up in your head being the hard cock that dangles out of reach. The heat in your stomach stirs at the sight, anticipation building rapidly when you feel him run the reddened tip between your puffy folds.

“Sure you don’t want it here?” Toji taps his cock against your ass hole and your entire body jolts in response, a loud Toji amusing rather than deterring him. “A’right, a’right! Gotcha the first time.”

His profound dream of burying himself nine inches deep into your ass crumbles as he aligns his cock with the entrance of your pussy. You brace yourself, patiently awaiting that initial sting that never goes away; no matter how many times he fucks you or how diligently he preps you, the thickness of his girth always threatens to split you in half.

But now he’s stalling, a complacent smile sitting on his lips while he contemplates your silence. “Bet you’re red as a beet in there, aren’t ya?”

He plunges himself inside before you are given the chance to either prove or disprove him, a silent scream punched from your throat as his cock rams straight into your g-spot. He huffs a deep breath, barely keeping a groan bottled, when he feels your walls tighten around him. It’s suffocating. Wet, and tight—a little similar to what being stuck in that small space feels like for you, but infinitely more pleasurable for him.

"Mm, such a sloppy little cunt. Got yourself stuck in there for this, didn't ya?"

His fingers latch onto your hips, bruising you as his nails dig meanly into your skin. He drags his cock halfway out of your cunt only to snap his hips back in, picking up a pace that ramps up over time. His quick thrusts fuck you further into that hole, your tits bouncing and slapping against the hard wooden planks while your dress rides higher to expose your back.

Toji bends your body into an arch, a heavy palm situated on your stomach until you’re able to hold the position on your own.

“Like it when your husband fucks ya like a bitch?” He grunts, catching the hand that’s squirming on the grass beside him and twisting it behind your back. “Pounded in broad daylight f'everyone to see how dumb you get over my dick, huh?"

Your whimpers don’t go unnoticed by him. He laughs at the high pitch your voice has assumed, babbling his name an incomprehensible amount of times that exceeds the frequency with which his swollen cock head kisses your pulsing core. You can't think enough to reply, and you can't bring yourself to ask him to stop.

He smacks your ass loud enough for you to whine, alerting every last neighbor in the block to what is happening in their quaint suburban neighborhood. “Answer me.”

“Yes, Toji—fuck, love how big it feels.” Your thoughts stem from your pussy without being filtered by your brain. All your body knows is how badly it needs to be pushed over the edge, disregarding the scornful looks you’ll definitely be receiving at the next neighborhood watch assembly.

“That’s not what I asked.” Toji smacks your ass again, softer this time—or so it feels because of your numbing skin. “I asked, Who owns this pussy, mm?”

“That’s not what you asked at all!” Your talking back earns you a third spank. You realize you’ve got no agency of your own.

“Won’t ask again. Who. Owns. This. Pussy?” He punctuates each word with a thrust sharper than the one before, his cock twitching when he hears you screaming your answer at the top of your lungs.

“You do, T-Toji. My pussy is yours—ngh!”

“And who’s bitch are you, baby?”

“Your bitch!” You answer willingly, your mind clouded, and your logic dulled. “Fuck, Toji, you know I’m all yours.”

“Damn right, y’are.” He hums in response, hunching over your body to rub tight circles around your clit, jerking the nub up and down, round and round.

You’re almost there, and when he asks you whether you wanna be bred like one, the tension in your gut finally snaps, eyes involuntary crossing as white waves of pleasure overtake you.

He fucks you through your high at an animalistic pace, the thought of filling your belly with a baby that’s half his and half yours flooding his brain before your answer registers, his cum spilling deep within your pussy with a few sloppy pumps that squelch to the sound of your mixed fluids.

His moans mingle with yours, the rough sound of his voice raising goosebumps from where he kisses your back to the resounding ringing in your ears. He wraps his arms around you almost tenderly, peppering your back with kisses that almost convince you he’ll finally pull you out of that miserable hell hole but that’s not his intention. It never was.

A final smack meets with your ass right before he rolls his pants back up and walks toward the house, undisturbed by the screams that follow close on his trail.

“You said you’d get me out of here!” Your fist hits the ground, finges clenching around a tuft of grass blades that you violently root out.

“And you said you can get out whenever ya want. That you needed time for yourself, ‘member?”

“I didn’t mean that!” You object, your tone too squeaky to be taken seriously. “Toji, you’d better help me or else—”

“Or else what? KFC until I die?” He snorts. “Relax, I’ll come back before Megumi gets ‘ere.” You hear his phone buzzing as he—presumably—punches something in his search bar. Hot wings don’t sound too bad; he whispers for himself to hear, speaking up only when he asks you if you want him to order you a twister wrap or something before he closes his order.

a/n: the episode excited me too much, apologies. i was gonna post this later asdfghjkl but toji is back and we cum.

2K notes · View notes

chaosandmarigolds · 17 days

Text

what I like to believe is that in the pre-k universe (aka Ollie, my beloved) is that teacher!reader refused to admit feelings because Simon was a free babysitter

So...like you don't overthink the lingering hugs, and the way his hand would rest on the back of your head as you did

You would tell yourself it was just his nature to speak so sweetly to you (when you had seen how talks to others)

You just tell yourself the reason he holds your hip close to him when you go shopping (Since Ollie stays at his house for lunch and whatnot) is just his habit since he's in the military...or something

You try to convince yourself that his little kiss to the forehead is just natural??? its platonic, its so platonic that he probably thinks youre like a sister!! oh no!!!

Simon however? You're two months deep into a relationship, he is your boyfriend and he is fully convinced of this

In his mind as soon as you fell asleep on his shoulder that one random night you were offically together

Told Johnny and Price too- they started calling you the Missus (Things you thought was just a British guy thing, as for Johnny you just thought he was weird)

so like when you try to move on and you ask him to babysit for a date night he's like-

"huh?"

"Yeah, Kory? from the school, he's a PE coach, asked-"

"No... luv, I...what?"

You clear your throat as you slip on the heel, since you had just assumed he would have no issue babysitting- as he never had, in fact if you didn't have the date you would've stayed for dinner, which was just habit at that point. "Just two hours, back before eight."

He looked genuinely confused, her eyebrows furrowed and his arms crossed over his chest. he tried to speak a few times and faltering so you go on, thinking something was wrong with you- since he had never looked at you like this.

"Si? Is...is my dress weird?"

"No, 'er breathtaking."

"Then why are you looking at me like that?"

A small pause.

"Because 'er my girl...my gir-what are you doing???"

Huh?'

You blink a few times from across the center island setting your purse down, "Simon. What?"

"I'm...." He tries to read your expression and then his mouth goes agape, "Wait-"

"I feel like we miscommunicated."

"You think?"

(annnyway that's all i got <333 )

Part Two??? (yes)

#simon riley fanfic #simon ghost riley #ghost x you #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #cod fluff #simon riley x reader #cod x you #simon riley imagine #call of duty x reader #x female!reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #coco's chaos <3 #coco’s pre-k universe! <3

670 notes · View notes

hopelesslyromanticshark · 21 days

Note

hi could i request a percy fic based off of olivia’s new song obsessed?? where reader and percy got together after percabeth

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ I Got Issues, I Can't Help It, Baby

content: percy jackson x jealous! reader warning: mentions of jealous, little tiny baby minor fight, ends in comfort! author's note: argh this was such a good prompt and i feel like i've kinda fumbled it lmao. i dunno, i tried reworking it a few times but it wasn't coming out how i wanted frfr i like the beginning and the end but the middle can go rot frfr lmao it's cool tho whatevas. also posted from the airport 🫡

it was hard dating annabeth chase's ex boyfriend- er, sorry, percy jackson.

i mean, the girl made it nearly impossible to hate her. she was pretty, she was kind, she was smart, and she never spoke poorly of you. in fact, she was surprisingly supportive of your relationship with her ex, making 'good luck' comments with a teasing smile.

gods, you hated that you hated her.

you weren't even completely sure where it stemmed from. maybe a small part was from your insecurities, another part from that fact that camp was relatively small and everyone knew everything. you knew, before you even started to crush on your boyfriend, the he and annabeth had been the it couple for years. news of their break-up shook the whole camp. you couldn't help but feel like you had something to prove, following up all that.

what made it all that much harder was the fact that percy didn't see it like you did (few people saw it like you did, truly). he was so sweet with you, the perfect boyfriend, and here you were, glaring over at his perfect ex-girlfriend. the guilt ate away at your bones but you couldn't seem to look away.

"yn? you even listening to me?" percy asked with a chuckle, bumping his shoulder with yours.

"what? sorry, i got, er, distracted," you replied, ripping your eyes away from annabeth as she laughed in such a beautiful way, you were starting to understand how percy could have fallen in love with her. which left you wondering why he was even talking to you, let alone dating you.

"yeah? what's going on in that brain of yours, huh?" he asked, glancing at you with a concerned look. and you could see it, percy asking this same question to annabeth. which, in turn, had you huffing and rolling your eyes.

"nothing."

"woah. clearly, it's something. cmon, talk to me-"

"drop it, percy," you bit out, fully prepared to get up and stomp away.

"drop what? i don't even know what we're arguing about right now."

"i don't either!" was your murmured reply as you dug your head into your hands. you had flashes of thoughts of the darling daughter of athena, who problem has never not known something in her entire life.

"than why are we arguing?!" percy asked, his face all scrunched up in confusion. and it would have been cute and endearing if you could see through the rage that muddied your vision

"i dont know! im not as smart as annabeth, maybe then i could figure it out. or maybe then, we wouldn't even be arguing in the first place!" you cried, rapidly standing up and basically running from the boy, eager to hide the fact that tears were building in the corner of your eyes and the fact that you really didn't want to be fighting with him.

the rest of the day was spent holed up in your cabin. you kicked all your siblings out, telling them to scram unless they wanted to feel your wrath. they scattered pretty quickly. you buried your face in your pillows, occasionally screaming but that is simply between you and your pillow. you wanted to pull your hair out for arguing with your perfectly sweet boyfriend. you wanted to scream until you were blue in the face for even thinking mean thoughts about annabeth, who has been nothing but kind to you. but, most importantly, you weren't going to leave this cabin until a whole new generation of campers came and even then that was pushing it.

but, naturally, you're plans were disrupted by a knock against your cabin door.

"get lost!" you shouted into your pillow, refusing to get up and hoping the person got the message. evidently, they didn't as they knocked a few more times.

"leave me alone!" you called, barely lifting your face from the pillow so you could be better heard. and the knocking finally stopped. you would have smiled if you weren't in such a sour mood, promptly dropping your face back into your pillow with a sullen groan.

but then your cabin door was swinging open, percy proudly kneeling next to the lock he had picked. you jumped as the door open, fully removing your head from your pillow before locking eyes with your sweet boyfriend, who offered you a small smile and tilt of his head. you sighed, throwing yourself back into your pillows and hiding away from the boy, who chuckled softly at your actions.

you refused to look up again, but you could hear him close the door and begin to make his way towards you. the bed creaked as he sat down on the edge of it. nothing was said for a moment but you could feel percy's eyes on you and basically see his little smirk.

"wanna come out of the pillow?"

"no," came your muffled voice and percy rolled his eyes, knowing you couldn't see him.

"alright, have it your way. how about i talk and you actually listen this time?" percy offered and you hummed back, slightly worried about hat he was going to say. i mean, if i found out my girlfriend was obsessing over my ex, i'd break up with her too.

"if you're worried about annabeth, you really shouldn't be," percy started and you went to grumble about something but he cut you off, "shush. let me finish. sure, annabeth is great-"

"this is terrible, percy."

"let me finish, for gods sake! i was going to say that we broke for a reason and i got with you for a reason. yes, annabeth is a good person, but im with you. and i am so, so in love with you. you, perfectly you, yn. no annabeth, but you. not better or worse, just different," rambled percy and you couldn't help but slowly remove yourself from your pillow, bashfully looking up at the sweet son of poseidon.

"there's your pretty face," he muttered, seemingly without thinking. this had you rolling your eyes and falling against his chest, hiding your face in his camp shirt. he laughed softly, draping his arms loosely around you.

"im sorry," you whispered into the cotton fabric, more words of explanation for you actions dying on your tongue as he kissed your temple.

"me too. i should have noticed sooner," percy shrugged, tilting his head for a chance to meet your eyes. you allowed his sea green ones to lock onto yours and you knew you'd be okay. he always had that sort of easing effect on you, like sleeping with white noise on.

"no, it's alright. i've got issues, i just can't help it," you replied with a soft laugh.

"hey! ain't nothing wrong with being a little obsessed!"

"and you'd know, mr. im-gonna-stalk-your-ex."

"and then i beat him up."

"and then you beat him up, yes, how dare i leave that part out."

maybe it wasn't all that bad, seeing as percy was equally as obsessed as you were. jealous was a hideous green monster but...you and percy always thought you guys looked so good in green

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #pjo #hoo #pjo fandom #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy pjo #percy jackson x y/n #annabeth chase #pjo hoo toa #heroes of olympus

434 notes · View notes

peachesofteal · 4 months

Text

Dead Disco / Chapter 11

Dead Disco masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 2k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: no smut but this fic contains mature themes. Relationship issues, arguments. Angst. Toxic behavior. Johnny is struggling. Everyone is going through it. Johnny struggles.

"No contact?!" Johnny chokes, and you hesitate on the other end of the line, sharp breath rattling through the speaker phone.

“My… my therapist thinks it would be good, to try it. For thirty days. Just to see how I feel.” Johnny’s fingers stretch across the front pocket of his pants.

Thirty days?

You’ve already been gone five, and it feels like five years.

He balks. No. No, this. This can't be. You have to be home, with them. Where you belong. Where they can fix it.

“Ye… no, I thought… I thought this was just a break?” He doesn’t recognize his voice. It’s ragged and torn to shreds, and now fear makes it tremble.

What does this mean?

“It is, it is. I just… I have to try this.” You sound as sad, as fucked up as he does, and he wants to scream, throw the phone against the wall, say screw it all to hell and go over to your rental, bang on the door until you let them inside.

“Of course, darling.” Simon soothes, and Johnny stares at him like he's lost his grasp on reality. Of course? Of course?! “We understand, we… we can do that. We’ll do whatever you want.”

“No.” Johnny cuts in, he can’t stop himself, can’t control his mouth. He can’t agree to this, to not talking to you, or seeing you for thirty days. He can’t do it. “I-“

“ Johnny.”

“Johnny-“ You both say his name at the same time. Yours is a plea. Simon’s is cautionary, finger seeking the mute button, cutting you out of the conversation for a split second, long enough for him to utter a warning.

“Do not push her on this. We need to let her decide right now. She’s in control.”

“Hello?”

“We’re here.” Simon assures you, unmuting the phone. “We understand. No contact, thirty days. Will you reach out, afterwards?”

“I… I will, I promise.”

“And you’ll take care of yourself?” There’s a pause on the other end of the line, a gulp. Simon’s façade cracks, enough that Johnny can see the fear that lurks there, the worry.

“Ye-yeah. I am. I will.”

“Will you come to bed?”

Johnny’s thumbs press together, overlapping where his fingers stay knitted tight, grasping onto one another like he’s holding onto himself for dear life.

He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath in and then releases it slowly through his nose. It’s a self-soothing technique, one he’s seen you do a million times. But once he’s done, his response is no less acidic. “I cannae sleep.”

Silence is his answer, until-

“Johnny.” Simon’s forearm wraps across his shoulders, pulling him backwards from the stool and into the cushiony warmth of his chest, heat burning into his back. Simon’s always been a furnace, a giant, weighted, heated blanket, his touch one of safety, security. Care.

But right now, all it feels like is anguish.

“Si.” He croaks, tears welling up behind his eyes. “I cannae do this any longer. I cannae… I need her back.”

“We need to be patient, and respect-“

“Respect?” Johnny blurts, incredulous. “No, No, I… We should be there, right now. We should be standing outside her door, we should be fightin’ for her, nae sitting ‘ere, waiting. Showin’ her how much she means; how sorry we are.” The warmth pulls away, an exasperated sigh blowing across the back of his neck.

“I’m not having this conversation again.” Simon is curt, growing cold, and it fuels the burning rage building inside Johnny’s stomach.

“Of course, because why would ye? It’s already settled in yer mind, isn’t it? That we just sit here, and wait, and let her slip away because ye coudnae keep yer mouth shut!” He’s said the same thing a thousand different ways over these last three weeks. Dressed Simon up and down six ways to Sunday over it, different verbiage each time.

The conversation always ends the same.

“Can you forgive me?”

“Of course I can but I’m still mad at ye.”

The anger foils away, ebbing into sadness, despair, and Johnny’s sight goes black when he buries his face in his hands.

“I miss her.” He whispers to the floor. The warmth returns and wraps him in a snug embrace, soft words hummed against the shell of his ear, each one punctuated with a kiss.

“I know, I know you do. I do too.”

“You nearly got yourself blown up!” Simon roars, and Johnny nearly flinches, steeling himself against his partner’s anger. “You can’t be makin’ stupid decisions like that. You jeopardized-“

“I knew what I was doin’. Dinnae question me, ye dinnae know anything about the tech behind those explosives, and ye know it.” He stands a little straighter, indignant, insulted, and Simon’s eyes narrow, before squinting, tension shoving his shoulders down in a slump.

This isn’t like them. They’re always in lock step. One unit. One person, two hearts.

The cot creaks beneath Simon’s weight, elbows against his knees.

“Johnny, what’s going on?”

“What do ye mean?” Dirty, cheap laminate flooring stares up at him, patterns in the grit swirling together like sand.

“You’re not yourself. Price mentioned-“

“Ye and Price talkin’ ‘bout me?” Unsettled anger rattles him, immediate demand rising through his blood. Simon holds his hand up.

“No. He was concerned, said you were a little rash the other day, on the recon. Asked if everything was alright.” He blinks. Blinks over and over, tries to quash the surging agony, the upheaval of his stomach. He fights it, tries to breathe through it, tries to stop it in his tracks, but a big grip wraps around his wrist, and tugs.

He’s settled into Simon’s lap without another word, his nose to his neck, fingers stroking through his mohawk.

“It’s going to be alright. You’re alright. We’re going to get her back, love.”

“I cannae do this. Ye dinnae know-“

“I know.” He squeezes him, calming him, and Johnny melts a little, sharp blade of the pain turning dull. “I know that the best thing we can do right now is be patient, and respect what she’s asked us to do. When she’s ready, she’ll let us know, and we’ll do everything we can, to try to fix it. To make it better.”

“I feel like there’s a hole-“ His hand rubs his chest, over and over, until the skin burns. “Like there’s a piece missing. I dinnae think I can do it, without her.” His voice breaks, and Simon’s attempt to calm him comes out like a strangled cry. “It hurts, Si.”

“We won’t. We just have to be patient, Johnny. We have to. We have to show her we can do it.” Simon murmurs, and then they both slip into a sad silence, Johnny huffing through his tears against Simon’s chest until he’s dragging them both down into the little cot, escaping into the comfort of uneasy sleep.

The flat is too quiet.

Lately, he’s been putting your favorite movies on in the small hours of the morning. Simon sleeps in now, restless until the sun starts to come up, and then he finally sinks beneath pull of dreams, or nightmares, whichever comes first.

So, Johnny curls up on the couch by himself, with your favorite tea, flip flopping between the rotation of movies that you always had rolling in the background, when you were painting, when you were cooking, or even reading.

But today, he paces. Back and forth from the bedroom, the kitchen, to the art room, the one you left half barren, the one that still holds nearly finished paintings, dried tubes of paint, stiff bristled brushes, long discarded for new ones, but not thrown away.

“I’m going to the gym, want to come?” Simon is hovering just outside the door, brows fixed together. He hasn’t stepped foot in here, Johnny has noticed, not since you left nearly a month ago. In fact, he avoids this room like the plague.

“No, ye go on.”

“You sure?” His head cocks in consideration, and then he nods.

“Yeah. Love ye.”

“Love you too. Be good.”

“Where the bloody hell have ye been?” Johnny seethes, arms crossed. Their half-eaten plates still sit cold on the table, mocking him since Simon left in the middle of the meal an hour ago.

“Out. For a walk.” The hoodie comes up and over his shoulders, and Johnny catches a whiff of it.

Cigarette smoke.

“A walk, eh? Ye out walkin’, and smoking?”

“Johnny.”

“Dinnae Johnny me, ye’ve been smoking, I can smell it.”

“I don’t want to do this right now.” He snaps, turning his back, heading into the bedroom, the bathroom.

“Ye dinnae want to do what?”

“This. Fight. Argue.” The shower clicks on, steam slowly building from the floor as Simon shucks his joggers, his boxers, Johnny’s eyes struggling to stay fixed on his partner’s face.

“I’m not arguing, I… I dinnae understand how ye can be so casual about this, it’s-“

“What am I supposed to do?” Simon turns on him, still angry, still hurt from their conversation earlier. It brews beneath the surface like a finely veiled stormed, just barely held back. “Lose my head? Fall apart?”

“I dinnae, talk to me?” Simon’s jaw clenches. Every scar on Simon’s back speaks to him, tells him stories, corroborates his witness accounts. Johnny wishes he could take them away; wishes he could kiss them.

But Simon feels so far away now. He’s felt miles away since you left, since the bed slept three, table slept three, couch held three.

“I’m right here, Si. I’m here.”

Johnny knows what he’s doing is wrong. He’s fully self-aware, but completely out of control. His legs carry him down the street on autopilot, barrage of requests and demands from his rational self trying to break through the encasement where he’s locked them away.

He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t.

He can’t help it. He can’t do this… anymore. It’s killing him. It’s killing Si.

He worries it’s killing you.

He tells himself he’s just going to check on you, make sure you’re okay. He’s not going to bother you, just make you’re alive. He’s not going to stay, he’s just going to say hi, ensure you’re safe, healthy, and then leave.

If you even open the door.

Guilt, anxiety, fear all turns over in his stomach, freezing through his blood as he climbs the stairs to your long term rental. He just needs to see you, needs lay eyes on you, just once, and it will all be okay. He’ll be okay, once he knows you’ll be okay.

Simon is going to be so bloody pissed. He grimaces. He knows there will be hell to pay. That Simon will be enraged, disappointed. That he’ll be upset.

They made a promise. He made a promise.

And now he’s going to break it, just like that.

He stands outside your door for too long, contemplating. Trying to sift through every decision he’s ever made, that led him to this point. He could still turn around, still go home, even though his finger is itching to ring the bell, a burning desire searing through his mind, urging him forward until his forehead is thunking softly against the wood, eyes closing.

Darling.

He can still see your face, your smile. The ways your eyes light up, the way your voice sounds when you say his name.

“I need ye, we need ye.” He whispers to no one, and then his finger presses the button, breath holding in his chest.

A few seconds pass. He strains to listen, latching onto the sound of footsteps inside, the click of a lock, the creak of the hinges, and then the door opens wide, revealing you on the other side.

“Darling.” You’re haunted, a flicker of a memory, a sharpened shadow sawing into the soft matter of his brain. You blink like you're trying to clear your vision, like you're struggling to see him, and he offers you an uneasy smile, something nervous and unsettled. You shake your head, mouth open in surprise, confusion, eyes wide.

“Johnny.”

#peaches writes #dead disco #ghost x soap x reader #ghoap x reader #soap x ghost x reader #ghost x reader x soap #simon riley x reader #simon riley #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader

717 notes · View notes

bubblegyu00 · 2 months

Text

riize as boyfriends !

riize x femidol!reader

a/n: currently in my rum pum pum pah talk saxy era 😋

———————・✦

• shotaro

boyfriend shotaro and idol shotaro are basically two different people. the members have mentioned that shotaro is a bit stern and serious during practice. but all of the frustration leaves his body once he sees his girlfriend stopping by after practice. goes from leader osaki shotaro to clingy baby taro in a millisecond.

is such a happy pill to you, but when you go without seeing him for more than 24 hours, then you suddenly become sad and depressed.

his favorite pass time is to talk about you, and he has proven that many..... many times. the members always get annoyed when the room is silent he and suddenly groans " man, i really miss my girlfriend ". but the poor boy can't help that you're always on his mind 😕

he definitely loves to annoy you, but only because he knows that you won't get angry at him. he thinks that you don't get angry at him because you basically let him do anything he wants ( which is true ), but it's really because even though taro likes to tease,, he never crosses the line.

if you would ever be at an awards show together, he wouldn't even try to hide your relationship — meaning the boy is quite literally gushing over how good you look. pokes you in the side and giggles quietly to himself as he watches you stiffen and try not to flinch.

" shotaro! what was that?! we were live! "

" it was so funny! "

———————・✦

• eunseok

boyfriend eunseok may seem nonchalant and tsundere ( yes i used that word, what're you gonna do about it 😛 ), he actually cares about you so much.

is on the verge of tears when he's cleaning a wound for you ( it's literally a paper cut ). will help you do everything for the rest of the day like you just got out of the ER or something.

makes you laugh all the time because he just wants to see you smile. his life goal is to protect you at all costs, and treat you like an absolute princess.

loves loves lovessss when you play with his hair or scratch his back. he can put up the tough guy act all he wants, but the minute you offer to rub or scratch his back he'll lay right on your lap and won't get up for another hour.

and even though he isn't as expressive, he gives you compliments like no other. he praises every little thing you do, and compliments you on every single piece of clothing you wear.

" you look so good baby "

" i'm literally wearing pajama pants and a tank top seok..? "

" i stand by my earlier statement "

( are my daddy issues showing yet? )

———————・✦

• sungchan

boyfriend sungchan is so cute i want to throw a rock at him. alright that made sense in my head.

he's so so so in love with you i don't think he could possibly put it in words. he probably wants to throw a rock at you too.

like you could literally glance at him for one millisecond, and that's a kiss in his book. he still gets giddy over the little things like holding hands and hugging and it's just so endearing 🙁

sometimes he forgets how handsome he is, and only remembers when he gets a scolding because he didn't know a girl was hitting on him.

no but seriously sometimes the fact that he is so insanely attractive leaves his brain. and the amount of girls that mindlessly flirt with him — even though his girlfriend is right there — double the amount when he's at the gym.

so he dosent leave for the gym until he gets sprayed with a bunch of your perfume, has a picture of you two in his phone case, a scrunchie on his wrist, and a pink bow around his arm. ( the last one is just cus... why wouldn't you try to tie a bow around sungchan's arm?? )

" maybe i should buy you a shirt with a picture of me on it "

" or i could just act like i'm gay when girls come up to me "

" oh my gosh yes! "

———————・✦

• wonbin

boyfriend wonbin is the beginning of the sassy man apocalypse. i say this from the heart wonbin 🤍

no but it's really a good thing because you needed someone who would overdress everywhere with you 😋. he still has never overdressed you ofc, he knows his limits 😼

most people thought you guys were just this big glamorous couple who slept glamorously, went on big glamorous dates, and just breathed in glamorous air.

this, however, is a big lie. most of the time you had dates at home, in bed, eating takeout, and watching horror movies.

although wonbin is very very very very hot in every way, most of the time you just saw him as a guy who was born to be a cutie patootie, but was forced to act like the mysterious hot guy.

wonbin only let's you see the soft side of him because he can really open up to you, and you understand him so well.

if wonbin is ever having a bad day and won't open up to anyone, the members call you immediately since they know that you'd be able to calm him down in five minutes tops.

" go away "

" binnie, baby it's me. you can open the door "

———————・✦

• seunghan

boyfriend seunghan most definitely was best friend seunghan before you "accidentally" made out one night

your love language is annoying each other and pissing one another off <3

you two are most definitely the couple everyone brings over to have a good time. the both of you together is quite literally is the best combo you could put together for having fun.

seunghan will annoy you, but make it up with the dozens of gifts he gives you for no reason. you showed him something online? he bought it. you thought something was cute at the mall? he's already whipping his credit card out.

he's not necessarily clingy, but will be touching you most of the time just to make sure you don't disappear. whenever you're at a party, or in public, he'll have an arm around your waist just for reassurance. he does in fact think you'll get kidnapped if you're not in his line of vision.

boyfriend seunghan most definitely calls you the most out of pocket nicknames just for fun. he thinks it's gold comedy.

" i'm home cucumber! "

" how was your day tissue? "

———————・✦

• sohee

boyfriend sohee makes me want to go into a cuteness aggression not gonna lie to you. the biggest simp out of the seven.

has you as his lockscreen and homescreen, has your photo card in his phone case, your birthday is his phone password, and his password for all of his accounts is the day he asked you out. ( he's a bit obsessed ngl )

sohee is usually very smiley, but he never ever smiles as wide as when he's with you. you're the only one who gets to see his fully pearly white smile

is still really shy around you, but it's so endearing. like if you say "i love you" he'll say it back but his neck, ears, and face will be a shade of red. or if you kiss him it'll still take him a minute to calm down because he has the reddest face ever right now.

like shotaro, sohee talks about you too much too. but honestly he only does it sometimes to make them mad or annoyed, but sometimes he really does just to talk about his perfect girlfriend.

will make sure you NEVER eat alone. he just thinks it's so sad that his girlfriend would eat alone when she could be eating with him.

" have you already eaten? "

" yes "

" aw, i wanted you to eat with me "

" oh, i haven't eaten yet, what do you want? "

" but you just- "

———————・✦

• anton

boyfriend anton makes me want to skip around my room and sing " look at the grass, the dirt! just like i dreamed they'd be! "

he gets really shy when you compliment him, but will compliment you on every single thing you say or do. like he'll literally say you look perfect when you're in sweatpants, and it makes you wanna do cartwheels and swoon over him.

he will so lose it every time you dress up at all. like he's literally drooling with goo goo eyes and he will NOT leave your side.

he feels so small next to you even though he's literally a whole shaq o'neal 2.0. he still can't believe how he pulled a bad bitch like you.

his love language is physical touch, but he is too shy to make the first move. for example, when you're sitting on the couch, about to watch a movie, he'll keep his hands to himself even though he wants to lay on your chest and have you play with his hair so badly.

people figure out your dating because when he's on live he'll bring you up every chance he gets. like every time he reads a comment, he somehow finds every single one to have something to do with you.

" anton what's your tmi? "

" um, my tmi for today is that i watched y/n's performance at mcountdown in person today and oh my god- "

❕

#bubblegyu00 #riize #riize imagines #riize x reader #kpop

446 notes · View notes

mrscarmenbearzatto · 3 months

Text

nurse cupid | carmen berzatto

claire and carmen used to date. you work under claire, and are now dating carmen. what a fucked up triangle ─ 1.33k cw: fem!reader, she/her pronouns used

Ever since you were young, you knew you wanted to be a nurse. Every career day at school, your answer was the same: "I want to be a nurse and help people!" usually written in yellow crayon.

So, managing to score a job in an ER in Chicago was a dream come true. You loved Chicago and your charge nurse, Claire, was one of your closest friends. Emphasis on was. That was before you and Carmy met.

Carmen Berzatto. The boy you met through Syd, one of your oldest friends. After weeks of back and forth flirting, you and him finally asked for each other's numbers and set up a date, much to Syd's apprecation since all he talked about outside of work was you and if you were stopping in.

Claire only found out about your relationship with Carmy after he insisted taking you to work one particularly snowy morning, leaving you with a goodbye kiss.

That day, she gave you more work then usual. More charts, more patients to watch over and check on, and that was on top of your usual work load. Plus, everytime you asked her a question she gave an exhausted sounding sigh and explained it to you like you were a child, with a condescending tone in her voice.

"Claire." You walk over to her, setting the charts (filled out) down on the desk. "What the hell is your issue with me today? You've been giving me your patients and frankly, your attitude towards me is passive aggressive. If there's something I did, tell me what it is and I can fix it." You request.

Her pager beeps as she hums. "The chief wants to see you." She says, beginning to walk off, and you follow her.

──

As soon as you stepped foot into the chief’s office, you knew what was happening. One of the ladies from HR you’d met once before, the chief, and Claire. Sat around a coffee table.

“Hi Y/n. Glad you could join us.” You know that’s HR talk for “glad we summoned you, let’s tell you what you did wrong.”

You sit down, noticing the look Claire gives you. It’s almost a glare.

“Mm. Can I ask what this is about?” You question.

“Well, Claire here has a feeling that you’re trying to shove a personal relationship in her face. I understand you are dating her ex and she just feels that-”

“That you’re basically trying to remind me of what Carmen and I went through. What we once had.” Claire cuts Aileen (the woman from HR) off, tilting her head at you as she waits on a response.

You stare at her, actually letting out a mix of a scoff and a laugh. “I’m sorry? Claire, Carm and you broke up nearly a year ago. Why are you still hooked on him?”

“This isn’t about me. You knew damn well I’d be at work this morning when he dropped you off.” “It was freezing cold! He didn’t want me walking or taking a cold train, so he offered to drive me since it’s on his way to work. He gave me a kiss and I never even brought it up to you.”

“Ladies!” The chief cuts you both off. “Aileen has agreed to investigate this further. Y/n, refraining from engaging with your boyfriend for respect of Claire’s feelings would be best.” He encourages.

You actually have tears in your eyes from the frusturation, your hands shaking from where you sit. "I'm sorry, can you excuse me for a moment?" You ask softly, standing up before they answer and practically running out of the room.

You barely make it out before you hear the office door shut, not by you but by Claire. "Y/n-"

"What the hell did I do to you, huh? Is this because Carmen and you broke up, or maybe because I didn't come running to you asking for your permission before I began dating him? What is it?" You question, throwing your hands in the air before slapping your hands against your side.

"Don't blame me for this. You're the one who had to go and act like a.. like a school girl bitch and put your relationship with him near me." She scolds. The tears you had been fighting back actually start falling at that, as you wipe them quickly. You shake your head, as you push past her and the flood of doctors.

──

Cold air be damned, you cross your arms over your chest as you lean against the brick wall outside. Ambulances soar past toward the ER exit, but you don't pay them any attention. It isn't until a familiar car pulls up in front of you that you actually look up.

"Hey, pretty girl. You okay?" Carmen's comforting voice asks, getting out of his car with his coat in hands, putting it over your shoulders. His heart breaks at the sight of your tears, nose red from probably the cold and crying, a frown matching yours.

You bury your face in his neck, only moving it to speak. "Claire saw you drop me off this morning and reported me to human resources. Then called me a school-girl bitch for 'putting our relationship near her'." You answer, your voice soft.

He nods slowly, trying to keep himself calm near you. "Why don't you go get in the car, huh? I'll go grab your stuff from inside." He asks, taking your hands in his. You smile. "Thanks, Carmy. Just behave yourself, please." You request, before climbing into the passenger seat of the car.

He watches to make sure you're safe in the car before he goes inside, fists clenched at his side. Behaving himself was something Carmen had never enjoyed doing, so why would he?

He spots Claire almost immediately, walking over. "Carmen-" She begins.

"Claire. What the fuck is your problem?" He cuts her off, staring at her. "Y/n has done nothing to you. If you're pissed about how we left things, that's fine. But you have zero right to harass my girlfriend over how I’ve moved on. I suggest you do the same.”

He doesn’t wait for a reply, instead making his way up to the chief’s office. Knocking on the door and waiting for the faint "come in", Carmen steps into the office and clears his throat as his jacket hangs off one arm.

“Hi, sir. My name is Carmen Berzatto, I’m-”

“I know who you are, son.” Ed, the chief, says with a nod. “And I know why you’re here. And I’d like to only say this once, so I’d appreciate your listening. Y/n is a fantastic employee as I'm sure she's a fantastic partner. I hate to see that girl crying. So, allow this to be a warning.." Ed stands, circling the desk and sitting on the edge, arms crossed right in front of Carmen.

".. If you hurt her, and I find she comes into work again crying because of you, I will end you. Are we clear?" Ed asks, and Carmen immediately asks. "Yes, sir, thank you." He says.

Carmen made his way back to the car, finding you in the frontseat, staring at the radio. He sets your bag in the backseat, climbing into the passenger's seat. "Your radio is all weird." You mumble.

He laughs, placing a kiss on your head. "I'm sorry about Claire. I should have told you.. I promise I am gonna spend the rest of the day making it up to you." He says.

You smile at him. "As long as I've got you, I don't care, Carmy. It isn't your fault."

He grins. "Well, you've got me for as long as you'll have me."

──

It doesn't shock anyone when you're moved to a different unit a week later, this time one where your boyfriend didn't date the charge nurse that would harass you. At least if they did, Carmy would be there to comfort you.

Like he always is.

˙ ��°˖🌸 ⋆｡˚꩜

shine on, shine on, my loves!

thank you for reading! please feel free to engage with this post by reblogging, commenting or sliding into my inbox to leave feedback! i appreciate all of you! check out my carmen berzatto masterlist here for more fanfics!

- mae

428 notes · View notes

wheresarizona · 1 year

Text

Creed

summary: Upon meeting Bo-Katan Kryze and discovering there are other Mandalorians out in the galaxy who remove their helmets, Din Djarin is suddenly questioning his beliefs and unable to stop from wondering what you, his wife, look like under your own helm.

rating: E (18+!! No y/n, Soft Din Djarin, established relationship, age gap (10 years), alternating pov, unprotected p in v, creampie, BREEDING KINK, oral sex (f receiving), first kiss, dirty talk, praise kink, domestic fluff, fluff, removing helmets for the first time, religious guilt, did I mention breeding kink? Din being so in love he wants to break the Creed, good parent Din Djarin)

pairing: Din Djarin/f!Mandalorian reader (from the Tribe with zero physical descriptions)

word count: 6.2k

a/n: It’s called Creed, but Breed also works. Lmaooo @what-muses sent in the prompt for Din hearing reader singing to Grogu, and I am so insanely sorry for this not being super wholesome. I just know in my heart Din would hear the woman he loves singing to their kid, and he’d want more children. 😭😭😭 I legit wrote 95% of this while either sick or in the ER to make myself feel better. Takes place during season 2. Thank you to the love of my life @juletheghoul for betaing this.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to hear what you thought of it!

Masterlist

He knows his own face—the color of his eyes, the curve of his nose, the crease between his eyebrows, the patchy facial hair. He knows the shape of his lips, the dimple in his cheek, and the lines that show his age. He’s the only person who can take in all of these details and know they belong to him, something secret, sacred—the Way of the Mandalore means no other living being can see him without his helmet. It also means you’ve never seen his face, but that’s never been an issue since you also follow the Creed.

Staring at his reflection in the ‘fresher mirror, his naked body clean from the sonic shower, he slowly moves the razor over the skin of his cheek, wondering briefly what you look like under your purple helm.

Pausing, his eyebrows furrow, realizing the thought has never once crossed his mind—it wasn’t something he ever would have wondered before because it’s never been important. The two of you had your beliefs and followed them, not caring about what was beneath the beskar, all that mattered was you loved each other.

You’ve been together since he’d saved the kid from the Client, you leaving Nevarro with him, your relationship shifting as time went on—the two of you keeping the child safe and falling in love in the process.

Then on your quest to reunite the small boy with his kind, you’d met the other Mandalorians, discovering there were many out across the galaxy who didn’t follow the Creed or the ways of old. They believed you could be a Mandalorian and remove your helmet and that your tribe was a cult.

Continuing shaving, he rinses the razor blade under water before sliding it along his other cheek. A lot of people preferred using depil cream to remove their facial hair, but Din liked the precision of the razor over the viscous liquid.

It was overwhelming hearing all that Bo-Katan had said and having this new knowledge, making him wonder what it truly meant to be a Mandalorian.

Could he really put the helmet back on once he took it off in front of another?

With the location of a Jedi and your time with your foundling running out, it was important he was present to witness your union, both knowing you were going to spend the rest of your days together by each other’s sides. Din and you exchanged your vows, committing to one another for life in the cockpit of the Razor Crest with your child in attendance and the bright streaking stars of hyperspace flying by.

His face is mostly shaved, leaving hair on his chin and above his lips, now using a small pair of scissors to trim his mustache.

It doesn’t matter to him that no one else gets to see how he looks. He’s still particular in how he likes his facial hair, unable to stand too much of it under his helmet, keeping the hair on his head cropped short for comfort.

It makes him wonder if you have preferences as he shapes his mustache.

How long is your hair? What color is it? What color are your eyes? What does your smile look like? What will your children look like?

His hand stops, his eyes widening.

Gulping hard, that’s another thought that’s never crossed his mind. He knows you’re going to have children together. It’s something you’ve discussed, but not once has he thought of their looks. Things like that didn’t matter to Mandalorians, who spend their lives covered head to toe in armor. He wonders if he’d be able to pick out the pieces of you in them to get a glimpse of what the woman he loves looks like—he wants to know.

Why is he stuck on this?

It’s not the Way.

Din sighs, finishing what he’s doing.

The scissors get put back into his shaving kit, cleaning the sink of his hair clippings, happy you got a room at the inn here on Nevarro while the Crest is being repaired. The two of you are planning to help Greef and Cara with a small matter in the morning in exchange for the ship's repairs.

Once he’s done, the stuff shoved into his bag, Din pulls out clean clothes to change into for the night, settling for some cloth pants and a long-sleeved shirt. Putting his helmet on, he gathers his bag and flight suit, the rest of his armor out in the room you’re in with the kid, stacked neatly beside your own.

Greef was the one who provided the accommodations, Din assuming it’d be a basic room—a bed, a refresher, the necessities. That wasn’t good enough for the magistrate, though. Instead, he’d set you up in a one-bedroom suite with a sitting room and a tiny kitchen.

Making his way out of the ‘fresher and bedroom, he stops in his tracks at what he hears.

You’re sitting at the small dining table, the kid in the seat beside you happily accepting the food he’s passed, which was a common occurrence, it’s the song you’re singing that has Din so caught off guard.

He’s heard you hum a lot—tunes were always getting stuck in your head that you picked up in cantinas or buskers on the street. You’ve sung before, too, but you were trying to make him and the kid laugh with your boisterous renditions of Mandalorian drinking songs.

This is different.

It’s not loud—it’s soft, sweet, the Mando’a flowing from your lips like a soft caress, hearing your love for the child with every syllable sung. This is a song mothers sang to their children, having heard such a thing back at the covert, about Mandalore the Great taming his mythical mythosaur and the strength all Mandalorians had.

There’s a helmet on your head, and he can’t help imagining what your face looks like under the t-visor. He can hear your love, would he be able to see it, too? There’s a smile in your voice, and it makes his chest squeeze at how he wishes he could look upon it.

Din knows you, and you know him.

He knows your likes and dislikes, your deepest, darkest secrets—everything about you, Din has learned and loves.

And now he wants more of you to love—he wants all of you, wants to see all of you.

You’re a wonderful mother, the kid so happy with you, taking him in like he’s your own flesh and blood, and something inside Din is screaming that you need more children—he needs to give you that, more little ones to love, and sing to, as many as you want, the thought of you pregnant with his child making his skin heat.

Stars, you’d be even more beautiful round with his baby.

He swallows hard, his pants feeling a little tight.

He knows everything about you, he loves everything about you, and guilt has settled like a stone in his stomach that he suddenly can’t get his mind off what’s under the beskar on your head.

The singing stops when you notice him, your t-visor trained on his prone form, standing just inside the room.

“Hey!” you say, handing the child more food. “It’s dinner time—ordered food while you were in the ‘fresher. Got you something I know you’ll like.”

It takes him from his reverie, finally moving again to set his bag near the table by the couch, the shining pieces of both of your armor on top of it. He tosses his flight suit onto the sofa over his cape, walking over to where you and the kid are.

He’s behind your chair, rubbing his hands over your arms as he replies, “Thank you, my love.” Leaning down to gently knock his helmet against yours in the semblance of a kiss before moving around the table to take a seat.

What would your lips feel like on his?

He has to shake the question from his brain, clearing his throat, and opening the food container in front of him.

It makes him smile when he sees you did get him something he’d like—skewers of meat and vegetables.

Picking one up, he uses the fork beside him to push off the chunks into the container, discarding the skewer and using his free hand to lift his helmet up just enough to take a bite. He groans happily at the spices enveloping his tongue, chewing and swallowing.

“Good?” you ask, beginning to eat your own dinner the same way he was.

In the company of other Mandalorians, it was generally protocol to go off and eat alone, but you’d been traveling in the tight confines of the Crest for so long that barely lifting the helmet was an acceptable compromise, avoiding looking at each other as you did it.

“Really good,” he replies, shoving more into his mouth.

The kid coos contently, full from his meal, while you both enjoy your own, sharing snippets of conversation between bites.

By the time you’re both finished, the little one is falling asleep in his chair, and helmets are once again covering your faces.

“I’ll put him to bed,” you softly say, starting to get up from your chair.

“The couch,” he says a little too quickly.

“The couch?” Your tone is teasing. “Got plans since we have a bed this evening, my dear husband?”

“Maybe I do.”

“In that case, the couch it is,” you reply, disappearing into the bedroom and returning with a pillow and blanket that you put onto the sofa, coming back over to the table to take the child.

Din busies himself cleaning up the trash and finds himself stuck in place when he’s done as he watches you sitting next to the kid, stroking his big ears while softly singing an old lullaby.

That need comes crashing into him again, the one telling him to give you a baby. It’s loud, something primal that he feels deep down that won’t be satisfied until he’s buried himself inside your cunt and pumps you full of his seed.

Arousal is burning in his gut, his cock stirring, eyes locked on your downturned helm and the curve of your breasts under your shirt.

He wants to strip you bare and feel your skin, batting away the intrusive thought of getting your helmet off—his, too, in order to lick and suck what he wants to touch.

He’s so lost in thought he doesn’t realize you’ve gotten up until you’re whispering by the bedroom door, “You coming?”

His bare feet move quickly, following you into the other room. Once the door is shut and the lock engaged, he’s crowding into you, needing to get his hands on your body, rubbing them over your soft belly and up to cup your breasts.

“You’re in a mood,” you giggle, Din’s hands roaming all over your body, your front, back, down to grab your ass.

“Need you,” he grunts.

Sliding your hands down his chest, you move lower to palm his half-hard dick in his pants, feeling it twitch under your touch.

“Yeah, you do.”

His eagerness is turning you on, wishing you could kiss him.

That makes you frown.

Over a year together and never once have you thought of kissing Din or seeing him without his helmet, for that matter, and yet, for days now, these things have been popping up in your brain. Kept you wondering what he looks like, or the face he was making in a moment or how soft his lips were, or the color of his eyes—plagued by thoughts that went against how you were raised and what you believed, clear violations of the Creed you swore to live your life by.

It’s never been an issue, always a fact that the helmet stayed on in front of another, and then you met Bo-Katan, and now you were at constant war with your own mind, feeling like it was an enemy you couldn’t vanquish in battle.

There are other Mandalorians out there, who even wish to reclaim Mandalore, and they believe you can remove your helm in the presence of another—Bo-Katan’s own armor had been passed down for three generations.

What if it was okay to remove it?

Would Din want to?

Would he still love you?

“What’s wrong?” he asks, taking you from your thoughts.

His hands are now caressing the sides of your helmet, a little intrusive thought in the back of your mind wishing he’d take it off.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh. “Just… thinking.”

“About what?”

“Stuff…”

His head tilts in confusion.

“Tell me.”

That’s the thing about Din, he’s your best friend, your husband, you can tell him anything, which is why you tell him the truth.

“Bo-Katan and the others, they are Mandalorians and remove their helmets.”

“Yes, they do not follow the Creed.”

“Do you believe they are Mandalorians?”

“Do you?”

“Bo-Katan was born on Mandalore. She fought in the Great Purge. I do believe they are Mandalorians.”

“As do I.”

“You do?”

“I do.” He nodded.

“Din, we grew up believing in the Way of the Mandalore—it’s all we’ve known. We went through the same ceremony, we swore to walk the Way and never remove our helmets, but I—” Your hands go up to cradle where his cheeks would be “—can’t stop thinking about what you look like, and I feel ashamed because I know it’s wrong.”

“It’s not wrong.” He sounds hopeful. “I feel the same and want to see your face, too.”

That has you taken aback.

“You do…?”

“I do.” He nods.

“But will you still love me…?” you ask, barely above a whisper.

“Of course. I love you for you and not for what’s underneath the beskar.”

“That’s a lie. You’re obsessed with my body.”

He chuckles, “I am because I love you and would continue loving you even if it changed…” he trails off like he’s thinking about something “I. Love. You.” he adds, saying each word clearly.

“Promise?”

Pressing a hand over his heart, he answers, “On my life.”

“Okay, I believe you.”

“Will you still love me…?” The question comes out slowly.

“We literally just had a conversation over how you love me for me, and you have to know I feel the same way.”

“Just making sure.” You can hear his smile.

“So, would you like to break the Creed with me…?”

Your heart is hammering in your chest.

“More than you know.”

Relief washes over you, combined with giddiness.

“Thank the Stars!” you exclaim happily.

“At the same time?” He’s as eager as you are, his hands moving back to hold your helmet again.

“Yes.”

Gripping his, you both count down together, “Three, two, one…” Carefully, you lift his beskar, your own coming off, blinking at the light in the room, and your eyes zeroing in on the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen, your mouth falling open in shock.

A person’s looks have never meant much to you, thinking some were pleasing to the eye, you finding someone’s prowess in battle more attractive along with their personality.

Din is a formidable opponent, always succeeding in his endeavors because he is highly intelligent, strong, and knows how to fight and use a weapon.

Even though many fear your husband, he’s actually a very sweet man, caring, loving, and will protect you and your foundling with his life.

And now you know he is also unbelievably attractive.

Beautiful chocolate eyes are rounded as they stare at you, the look on his face a twin of your own, loving his nose, and the messy brown hair on top of his head, seeing that he recently shaved with his facial hair looking neat, taking in every detail and line of the man you love.

“Beautiful,” he whispers in awe, and it has tears brimming in your eyes, bending down to set his helmet on the ground, him doing the same with yours, your hands moving to touch his face when you both straighten.

He’s so gentle when his broad palms caress your cheeks, almost like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

Smiling, you reply, “You’re very handsome yourself.” You reach up to smooth your thumbs over his eyebrows. “Your eyes are stunning. I hope our child gets them.”

His lips tip up, and Stars, they’re so plush, you can’t help yourself when you lean in to press your own against his, him making a surprised sound.

Your heart picks up in speed, having wondered what it would be like to kiss him, and at first, it’s soft; the warmth spreading under your skin, meaning to only give him a peck, but then he’s pulling you closer, kissing you a little harder. It’s lingering, his lips moving against yours in tiny movements that have fire burning brightly in your veins, following his lead to mimic what he was doing again and again and again.

It’s not like either of you has any experience with this type of thing, so you’re figuring it out as you go, doing what feels good, getting braver and more comfortable. Your fingers slide into the thick strands of his hair, moaning when his tongue slides over your bottom lip, instinctively opening for him. This was somehow better, more intimate, tasting each other, exploring the other’s mouths until the need to breathe became too much, and you’re separating with smiles on your faces, Din’s lips red and shiny from spit.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, and it makes you feel all gooey.

“You’re very handsome.”

You stroke your fingers over his cheeks, his hands on your jaw, rubbing a thumb over your wet bottom lip.

It’s like you both can’t stop yourselves from staring, eyes taking in every little detail of the other's face, saving them to memory.

The need rises, and you’re kissing once more, it’s messy before you’re both moving to get your clothes off as quickly as possible—once stripped, Din’s mouth is on yours as he walks you back toward the bed, falling with you on top of it.

His hips are slotted between your thighs, his lips detaching from yours to kiss along your jaw, over your cheeks, up on your forehead, and the tip of your nose.

It makes you smile, him kissing all over your face, then to your ear, shoving his nose in your hair, and inhaling.

“Fuck, you smell amazing,” he says.

That makes you laugh.

“Thanks, but we use the same stuff—we smell the same.”

“No.” He nips at your ear, sucking it into his mouth, gasping at the jolts of pleasure shooting to your center. “You smell better.”

You press your fingers into his hair.

“Stars,” you moan, his lips trailing down your neck and sucking hard on your pulse point. “It feels so good, Din.”

His mouth is so warm, leaving your skin wet in the wake of his kisses, and he can’t seem to get enough, lips streaking across every bit of you as he travels down your body. His mouth engulfs your stiff nipple, making your back arch, gasping his name.

Arousal is hot in your belly, the feeling incredible as he laves at one hard bud, then the other, your head feeling dizzy while soft sounds spill from your lips.

He comes off your nipple with a pop, continuing his journey lower, kissing over your belly until he’s half off the bed, his big hands spreading your thighs.

There’s a look of hunger on his face as he stares at the apex of your thighs, his fingers moving to spread open the lips of your sex, seeing the pink of his tongue peek out to swipe across his bottom lip like he wants to taste you. The look has excitement thrumming in your veins, wanting nothing more than to know what it feels like to have his mouth on you.

“Taste it,” you purr, and his eyes meet yours, his so dark barely any of the beautiful brown remains. “I know you’ve licked me from your fingers.” You’ve seen him on more than one occasion lift his helmet just enough to suck your arousal from digits after they’d been inside you. “Taste it—I want your tongue.” You bit your lip between your teeth.

“Fuck,” he rasps, wasting no time dipping his head forward, licking a stripe through your slit, the flat of his tongue going from your entrance to your clit. He’s groaning into your sensitive flesh as you moan at how good it feels, him laving at every bit of slick he can find, your back arching when he pushes the wet muscle inside you.

“You taste so good.” His words are muffled in your cunt, his mouth moving up, making your toes curl when he sucks on your bundle of nerves.

Even though this isn’t an act either of you has ever done before, Din is a quick learner, knowing intimately what makes you tick—once he has his fill of your taste, he slides two thick fingers inside you, crooking them into that spot he always zeros in on, your vision going white for a second at the shock of pleasure.

“Din,” you moan, threading your fingers into his brown waves for something to hold onto.

The muscles in your belly are beginning to tighten, the heat in the base of your spine growing.

His big brown eyes lock on yours from between your legs, seeing your arousal glistening in his mustache and on his plush lips.

“Wanna taste your come,” he husks, his fingers continuing to work. “Can you come for me? Please?”

This might be his first time, but that big brain of his has quickly worked out how to get what he wants, keeping his gaze on yours while pulling your perky little clit into his mouth, sucking on it while his fingers slide along something divine, rocketing you toward your release.

Your hands tighten in his hair at the pleasurable fire building in your core, feeling it getting hotter and hotter as he works you over, having to bite your fingers to muffle your noises when euphoria explodes inside you, quieting your whine of his name.

“That’s it, beautiful,” he says into your pussy. “My good girl—such a good girl.”

His fingers leave you, replaced with his tongue, hearing and feeling him loudly groan as he indulges in your come, drinking it down from the source.

Your chest is heaving, breathing hard as you come down, your husband having the best time with his mouth on your cunt if the noises are anything to go by.

He got to explore your body, and it’s your turn, salivating at the thought.

Tugging on his hair, you say, “Din?”

His head comes up, looking a little lost with glazed-over eyes, the bottom half of his face shining in the light of the room.

All he can do is grunt in response.

“Get up on the bed and lay down on your back, please.”

His face pinches in confusion.

“What?” he whispers.

You smile. He seems almost drunk, a state you’ve never seen him in since he doesn’t like anything inhibiting his mind or body.

“Get up here, my love—” You pat the bed beside you. “—and lay down on your back. It’s my turn.”

It registers what you say, and he nods, doing as he’s told and crawling up onto the mattress and flopping down next to you with his head resting back on a pillow. Rolling over, you throw your leg over his waist, moving to straddle his hips, your wet center pressing his hard cock into his stomach. You rub your hands up his soft belly and over his chest, seeing the faded scars on his golden skin.

“You’re beautiful,” you say.

His cheeks pink at the comment.

“Thank… you…” he replies, his hands grabbing your waist, smoothing his thumbs over your skin. “You’re more beautiful than the Diathim.”

Your eyebrow raises. “You’re saying I’m prettier than an angel?”

“Songs should be sung of your beauty—there’s nothing that compares in the entire galaxy.” He says it with such conviction your breath hitches, taken aback by the look on his face telling you he means it.

“We should get married,” you blurt out.

“What…?”

“I want to marry you again and see your face when we say our vows.”

You’re fascinated by how you can see him visibly soften, his mouth turning up in a grin that reveals an adorable dimple, reaching his hand to cup your cheek.

“Will you marry me again?” he asks.

You’re matching his look, nodding as you say, “Yes!” Unable to keep yourself from leaning down to press your mouth to his, moaning when you taste yourself in the passionate kiss. His arms wrap around your back, hugging you close to him, losing yourselves for a minute in your happiness.

You’re panting when you break apart.

You’d wanted to take your time getting your mouth all over his body, but there’s a sudden need to have him inside of you—sitting up on your knees, you snake your hand between your bodies to take his cock in hand, pressing it to your aching entrance.

You moan in unison as you lower yourself on him, watching his face as his mouth falls open, his hands grabbing onto your hips, the thick girth of him stretching you open and filling you inch by glorious inch until your thighs meet, feeling so unbelievably full.

“Stars, you feel so good,” you breathe.

“Not as good as you feel.” His words come out strained, watching his throat work as he swallows hard.

You do an experimental roll of your hips, making his fingers tighten in your skin.

His eyes are on yours. “I want to see you come while I’m inside you,” he husks. “Can you do that? Can you use me to make yourself feel good?”

“Yes,” you answer, starting to move up and down, your hands on his chest for leverage.

You love having him inside you—the way he fits so perfectly, rubbing against all the right spots, joining you together.

His hands are on your body while you ride him, rubbing along your ribs and over your stomach, moving up to palm the weight of your breasts, tweaking your nipples, sending jolts straight to your pussy.

“Ride my cock, pretty girl,” Din says in a low rasp. “I love watching you—so beautiful. Use me.”

Adjusting your hips has him sliding into that sacred place that makes your head spin, rising and falling at a pace that’s slowly building you up and up.

Arousal is dripping out of you and down his shaft, allowing you to move with ease, Din’s eyes locked on your face, groans spilling from his throat, looking wrecked at you bouncing on him.

His cock is hot and hard inside you, lifting your hips and slamming your ass down, working yourself closer to your end.

It’s exhilarating to be able to see how good he feels and how much he’s enjoying himself. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes lust-blown, his forehead glistening with sweat.

“I know you’re almost there.” His words come out rough. “You gonna come for me? Gonna be my good girl? I know you can do it. Wanna watch you—wanna see you come, my love.”

“So close,” you pant.

You’re rising and falling, moans slipping from your lips, the knot in your belly winding tighter and tighter until it’s snapping, and you’re coming with a gasp of his name. Your eyes close as pleasure expands from your center, spreading through your body.

“So beautiful,” Din marvels in a groan. “Such a good girl. I love you—I love watching you.”

“I love you, too,” you breathe, your orgasm beginning to ebb.

A surprised sound comes from you when suddenly you’re jostled, Din groaning as he sits up, keeping you on him as he gets situated with you in his lap, spreading his legs on the bed for balance.

You’re now face to face, his hand gently cupping your cheek as his lips find yours, kissing you tenderly, his other arm wrapped around your back to hug you to him. You thread your fingers in his hair, melting into him, accepting his tongue when he deepens the kiss.

You’ve found you love kissing. There was something about it that was so intimate—sharing breaths, being so close, and tasting him.

His hair is so soft and thick, scratching your nails gently along his scalp and feeling him shiver beneath you.

His hands go to your ass, gripping it tight while he starts moving you in his lap, his lips still on yours.

“Want you close,” he murmurs into your mouth. “Need you close.”

You bounce up and down on his throbbing cock, your knees on either side of his hips helping you rise and fall, fucking yourself on him as you keep kissing.

His words are muffled against your lips, “You’re so beautiful, strong, fierce, loving, and good with the kid.” He moves you faster, using his strength to lift you, grunting in exertion. “I watched you tonight with him—I want more little ones.”

The thought makes you clench around him.

“Din,” you moan, feeling him smile.

“I want to raise more warriors with you,” he continues. “I want to father your children. I want to fuck a baby into you,” he groans, his cock twitching. You can tell he’s getting close as you breathe hard, your thighs burning deliciously. “I want to fill you up, fuck you full of me over and over until it takes.” His words have arousal curling in your gut and the familiar heat building at the base of your spine, bouncing up and down in his lap. “I want to see you round with my child. I want to have as many as you’ll allow. I want to fill the ship, then a house with our kids. I want to see you mother more of my children and sing them the songs of old. I want you, all of you.”

It all sounds so good, wanting the same, gasping, “Yes.”

“Can I?” he asks in a wrecked tone. “Can I fuck a baby into you? Can I get you pregnant? Please. Please, can I father your child?”

“Stars, yes,” you moan. “Please. I want one. Fill me up—keep me full.”

He groans loudly, kissing you hard, making you gasp in surprise when he tackles you onto your back on the mattress, his hips nestled in the cradle of your thighs, holding himself up on his forearms beside your head.

He starts moving fast, fucking into you with abandon to chase his high. The wet slap of skin on skin is sounding in the room, along with his grunts muffled by your mouth, filling you over and over, his thick cock pushing in so deep he’s kissing your womb.

You grab onto his broad shoulders, needing something to hang onto, digging your nails into his golden skin. The kisses are sloppy, the tension rising in your belly. His pace gets uneven until he pushes in one last time, going as deep as he can, coming with a ragged groan. You can feel him jerk inside you and the wet pulse as warmth fills your depths. He rocks his hips, moving a hand between your bodies to circle your clit, already so worked up that it doesn’t take much to have you cresting softly with a moan of his name. Your body tenses up, Din grunting as your cunt chokes his dick, working his spend even deeper inside you.

“That’s it,” he groans. “So good to me, my good girl.”

You’re both panting, and he moves his head to the crook of your neck, collapsing on top of you.

It makes you smile when you press your fingers into his sweat-damp hair; how soothing it is to just run your fingers through the brown waves and lightly scratch at his scalp, Din practically purring.

“That’s so nice.” He slurs.

“I like It, too.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

It’s comfortable as you both lie there, not caring about your sweaty bodies or his weight on you, just basking in the afterglow together.

It feels like you’re so close, neither of you would know where one ends and the other begins—so tangled up in each other it feels as though you’re one—one body, one heart, one soul.

Minutes pass in silence, Din groaning as he moves to get up, kneeling between your spread legs. His eyes are locked on where you’re connected, hissing when he pulls himself out of you. Your eyes widen when his fingers catch some of his come that’s dripped out of you, moaning when he pushes it back inside.

“Don’t want to waste a drop,” he says. “Can you keep it inside, my love?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

He smiles.

“Thank you.”

His hand leaves you watching in interest as he pushes the digits between his lips, sucking them clean with a groan. They leave his mouth with a pop, his gaze on yours.

“I’ll never tire of how good you taste.” He says.

“I feel like you’re going to be insatiable.” You tease.

He smiles, and you love it so much that you wish to see it every day for the rest of your life.

“I’m already insatiable.”

“Yes, you are.” You reply with the same look on your face.

Quickly he’s off the bed and coming back with a warm wet cloth, gently wiping you down and cleaning himself up, it getting tossed to the floor when he’s done.

He pulls you to lay correctly on the bed in his arms with your heads cushioned by pillows, facing him.

The lights are still on, and you just stare into each other's eyes, losing yourself in his dark pools, him smiling softly under his mustache.

“I’m so happy to know your face,” he whispers, his big hand sliding along your cheek. “I love you.”

“I’m happy to know your face, too,” you say just as softly. “The face of the man I love, who will father my children.”

He smiles brightly, his eyes crinkling adorably at the edges, leaning in to kiss you.

There’s light banging heard at the door that can only be made by tiny fists, Din and you separating immediately with wide eyes.

“Were we too loud?” You whisper.

Din grimaces, answering, “Maybe?”

You’re both moving immediately, jumping out of bed and tugging on your clothes, the air in the room tinged with sex. At least the kid chose to wake up after you’d finished. It was always incredibly awkward when he interrupted during.

The two of you look disheveled, Din’s hair a mess on top of his head, and his cheeks tinted pink.

“Go wash your hands and face,” you tell him. “I’ll get him.” Neither of you bothered putting on your helmets, your husband heading for the en suite, while you made it to the door, disengaging the lock and opening it.

You’re smiling as you look down at the child, him staring up at you with a weird look on his face.

“Hey, buddy,” you say, and his eyes get big, him babbling something pointing at your head. It makes you laugh. “It’s okay,” you reassure, leaning down to pick him up. He’s staring at you, his big eyes somehow bigger. “This is what I look like under the helmet.” His little clawed hand reaches out, pressing it to your cheek as he coos, and it warms your heart.

“Hey, you little womp rat,” Din’s warm voice says as he enters the room, you turning so the kid can see him. The child is babbling up a storm, holding his arms out, and Din chuckles, taking him as soon as he’s within reach. “Did we wake you up?” he asks. “We were just, uh, sparring, yeah, we were sparring, there’s nothing you need to worry about.” The kid is looking at him in wonder, reaching to touch Din’s cheek, the man smiling. “Yeah, I’m not wearing my helmet.” The child looks at you and back at Din, chattering up a storm.

“I think he’s confused.” You tell your husband.

“Yeah, I think he is.” His attention goes back to the kid in his arms, rubbing his back, speaking in a soft tone, “Hey, it’s okay, buddy.” The child goes silent as he listens. “There, uh, were those other Mandalorians who took off their helmets, and we decided to do the same. Everything’s okay. It’s still us.” He’s cooing again, patting Din’s cheek, making his dad chuckle. “It’s my face.” The kid yawns. “You ready to go back to bed?”

You’re already moving toward the mattress, taking off the top blanket, tossing it onto the floor, and pulling back the sheets.

Din walks over and gets in on the other side while still holding the child.

The boy ends up on Din’s chest, his tiny hand reaching up to rub the man’s earlobe while softly babbling—you crawl in next to your husband, resting your head on his shoulder, the lights turned off.

You’re beyond happy to know what the man you love looks like, and you can’t wait to add to your little family, rubbing a hand over your belly.

Your period is almost a month late, and you have a feeling it has nothing to do with stress.

Din was going to be ecstatic.

Masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know!

Tagging: @theorganasolo @tiredbuthappy @mandowhatnow @myloveistoolittle @perksofbeingamultifandomm @eddiemunscns @deliriousfangirl61 @fandomandotherthings @myswficlist @aaetherr69 @swimmjacket @ins0mniac-whack @rintheemolion @notsosecretspy @ghostyoongs @freightcarcap @untitledarea @whitemanshoe19 @tmiranda94 @fleetsonfire @daddydindjarin @absurdthirst @kirsteng42 @littlemisspascal @athalien @thevoiceinyourheadx @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @girlofchaos @mswarriorbabe80 @star017 @artsymaddie @hansolosleftbuttcheek @deadhumourist @pretty-brown-eyess @hotchlover @eternallyvenus @allfoolsinluv @eppy816 @katareyoudrilling @babykangaemoji @punkerthanpascal @breezythesimp @grimeysociety @bruxasolta @peachyaeger @din-jarhead @lovesbiggerthanpride

#pedro pascal #Din djarin #Din djarin/reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian/reader #din djarin fanfiction #wheresarizona writes

1K notes · View notes

glassartpeasants · 4 months

Text

Alone

Trafalgar Law x F!Reader

Warnings: Reader has a drinking problem, Law being emotionally distant, mentions of past abusive relationships,

A/N: As you can all see I AM A LIAR >:) also I've ne er written for Law before so don't hang me if it's not perfect. Also not as long as my kid fics

@zuffer-weird-girl

(Phone acting up so if format is weird that's why)

~~~

The Polar Tang has never felt more cold than it does now. Even though you were deep into the freezing sea, the cold was nothing compared to the freeze you felt in your heart. Every passing second felt like an eternity as you suffered in silence. Watching the man you worked so hard to let you in pushed you away like you meant nothing.

You didn’t know what you’d done for him to act the way he was. One minute, he smiled whenever you entered his office with coffee; the next, he looked at you with disdain. Like you were a burden, it took a lot for you not to break down in tears every time he sent that look your way.

You couldn’t even avoid him if you wanted to. Being in a submarine miles underwater left you stuck with nowhere to go. Avoiding him was impossible, and the tension between the two of you was insane. Everyone inside the Polar Tang could feel it. It was thick enough to suffocate on, and you hated it. You didn’t want the crew to suffer or walk around eggshells just cause you're having relationship issues with your boyfriend.

Boyfriend? Captain? You didn’t know anymore. All he did was order you around instead of giving you a small good morning smile that you used to look forward to. Now, he barely acknowledges your presence and simply gives you a blank look.

You know that Law has his difficulties and trauma, so you never force him to do something he didn’t want to do. Let him take his time to trust and come to you. Everything you’ve done was to ensure that Law knew he was loved and could confine in you. Let him know he wasn’t alone and that you’d always be here for him.

Yet now, it feels like that wasn’t enough.

You only saw him when he addressed plans for the heart pirates or when he came to eat. Other than that, he was like a ghost that haunted the submarine. A rare sight to see him out of his office. A sight that you couldn’t take anymore.

Which brought you right outside his office door, your arm raised as you get ready to knock on the door, yet it stayed in its place. Biting your lip, you start to regret your decision to approach him, but the overwhelming pain in your heart gives you the slight boost you need.

KNOCK KNOCK

You slowly open the door, and you see him glaring at you. The sight alone had you shaking nervously.

“Law? Can we talk?” Walking out from behind the door, you breathe before closing it behind you.

“What?”

“I just…Did I do something to upset you? It feels like you're making an effort to avoid me. Please tell me if I did something wrong instead of avoiding me.” You can feel your voice shake as you confess your concerns.

“I’m not avoiding you.”

“But you are! Whenever I try to talk to you, you look so uninterested in what I have to say, and you turn around to leave before I even finish talking! I can’t remember the last time you smiled at me. For the past three months, you’ve done nothing but ignore me and look at me with disdain!”

“(Y/N)-ya, can we do this later? I need to make plans for Sabaody.” You let out a shocked gasp hearing his words. That’s what he’s been saying whenever you ask him to do something together. Now he’s saying it when you need to have a mature conversation.

“Nuh-uh. You’ve been saying that for two weeks! Every time I want to be next to you, I get that same damn response! That’s not gonna work this time. We need to have an adult conversation. An important adult conversation."

“What do you want from me (Y/N)-ya? I’m the captain. It’s obvious I'm going to be busy.”

“Busy, yeah! But you shouldn’t be busy to the point you don’t even come to bed! I bet you’ve been so busy sleeping in here that you haven’t noticed that I’ve slept in the crew bunks for almost a whole month!” You saw Law’s body slightly tense upon hearing your words. His eyes widened before going back to normal.

“That’s your choice.” Now, it’s your turn for your eyes to go wide. You can feel rage bubbling in your gut hearing his words. With a scowl, you throw your hands up in surrender.

“You know what? Fine. I’ve got more important things to do with my time instead. Since obviously I’m not important enough to have even a second of your time.” Turning around, you open the door before slamming it shut behind you. Tears slip down your cheeks as you stomp towards the kitchen to grab yourself a drink.

You’ve been drinking a lot more than you like to admit recently. It was hard not to when your struggling emotionally with your lover and mentally to get over your original drinking problem. It was horrible when you first joined the Heart Pirates, but slowly, they helped you start to overcome it.

There have always been alcohol problems in your family, and only did it hit you when you got into an abusive relationship before Law. Some people called you a ‘sad’ drunk type, so that could also be part of the problem. It made you only want to drink more. When the Heart Pirates took you in, you were fresh out of the relationship and suffering from alcoholism to the point you needed at least 3 alcoholic beverages every day. It's thanks to Law that your liver isn’t fucked.

It might as well be again with how much you started drinking again.

“Dare I ask how many so far?” Looking towards the door, you see Penguin entering the kitchen before sitting next to you at the table.

“Not enough.” You say before taking a big gulp. A small drop hits your uniform.

“Another problem with Captain, I assume?”

“Yeah, like always. Damn, bastard. Is there something I’m doing wrong?” Desperation slips from your lips as tears continue to stream down your cheeks.

“No! Of course not! I’m sure Captain has something planned for you guys! He’s just a difficult man to read, is all!” Penguin's loyalty to his Captain was admirable, but it's not what you want to hear during the time you wanted to punch said Captain in the face.

“I hope for my heart and liver's sake that you're right, Penguin.”

~~~

The next few days went by, and neither you nor Law spoke a word to one another. It broke your heart not speaking to him but you didn’t want to go crawling back to a man who didn’t care about your feelings. You’ve done plenty of that before joining the crew.

The hangover you were suffering from the hard-drinking the night before finally hitting you at full force. It felt like an ice pick stabbing into your head, and it only got worse as the crew got ready for the day.

Today was the day you’d be docking at Sabaody. Horrible time to get plastered the night before going to a busy place.

“Come on (Y/N)! We finally get to see the sun! It’s been so long!” Bepo shook your blanket-covered body. If it weren’t for the fact that you haven’t seen the sun in 2 weeks, and if it wasn’t, Bepo was the one shaking you, you probably would have slept late. But you could never say no to Bepo, and you did need some vitamin D before you got sick.

“Alright, alright. I’m getting up. Give me a sec, and I’ll meet you at the sub opening.”

“Okay! See you then!” You could practically hear Bepo’s smile as the bear ran off. Taking a breath, you get ready to see the archipelago Law is so obsessed about.

~~~

“Everyone gather round here.” Once everyone was out of the Polar Tang, Law immediately laid out the plan. It was going good so far until he said where you’d be.

“(Y/N) you’ll be on watch while Me, Bepo, Penguin, and Shachi-”

“Wait, why am I on watch?”

“Because I said so (Y/N). It’s easier that way.”

“Easier? Law you can’t just-”

“Captain. And my decision is final.” You simply look at the man in bewilderment. He never put you on watch.

If you weren’t going through a rough patch in your relationship with him, you’d just think it’d just cause he misplaced you. But now, with all the arguments and how Law’s been avoiding you, it’s like he just didn’t want you around. You could be looking too much into it, but with how Law talked about Sabaody, it sounded dangerous. If that were the case, wouldn’t he want you more around for more defense?

Not to mention how he ‘corrected’ you in front of the whole crew. You’ve called him Law in front of them before, and he didn’t say a thing. So why now?

“Okay, everyone, let's go.” The sound of the crew dispersing made your hands curl into fists. All you could do was stare at the ground as you heard everyone part ways. Law and his crew go to town while everyone makes their way back to the Polar Tang. There was no way in hell you were going back in that submarine after not seeing the sun in two weeks. If you wanted to crawl into a dark, cramped space, you’d just go to one of the many bars this place probably harbored.

In fact, you're gonna do just that. More than half the crew is on ‘watch.’ No one would notice you're gone. Just a few drinks, and you’ll be right back.

~~~

“Hey, Captain, why’d you put (Y/N) on watch? She’s never on watch.” The sound of Penguin’s voice breaks through Law’s thoughts.

“I have my reasons. She was unneeded, is all.” A complete lie that he hoped Penguin would just take without another word. In reality, he wanted you to stay safe. And in a place crawling with Marines, bounty hunters, and other pirates, the only safe space was the Polar Tang.

He knew you were strong and that you could handle yourself. But there was a fear that if he simply blinked for a single second, then you’d be gone. He loved you too much for that to be a reality.

Even though his actions beg to differ.

Whether intentional or not, he tends to push you away. He doesn’t want to get hurt and lose someone he loves once again, so it’s easier to be closed off. But the touch of your hands when you massage his tense shoulder or when you kiss his cheek when no one is looking is a token of ‘good luck.’ Times like this are where he wants to be close to you forever, but the fear of losing you becomes too strong so he pushes you away.

And he’s noticing that you're getting fed up with his hot/cold behavior.

When you told him that you hadn’t slept in your shared bed for about a month, Law could feel his heart stop. Has it really been a month since he’s slept in his own room? The thought ate him alive and his head raced with possible responses, and of course, he chose the worst one possible. He remembered seeing the hurt in your eyes and the faint tears that threatened to spill.

“Oh, Captain, look! I think there’s two other rookie pirates fighting!” Penguin snapped Law from his trance when he pointed to 2 pirates causing a ruckus. A small smile worked its way to Law’s lips at the sight.

“Well, let’s go watch, shall we?”

~~~

“Here you go, miss, another one for the pretty lady.” The bar you found yourself in was packed with all kinds of questionable people. All pirates and drunken commoners. There weren’t many women occupying the bar, so you stood out more than you would have liked. Not to mention how your uniform caught many eyes as well, your crew’s Jolly Roger plastered on it proudly. That and the many empty glasses of booze surrounding you.

“Thanks.” The bartender placed a huge jug of alcohol in front of you as you sat on the bar top. You can already tell that you’ve had more drinks than you originally were gonna get, but each passing minute that you thought about Law made you down another drink. It was easier to drink away your problems instead of working to fix said problem and it not working.

“Well, look what we have here. A lone heart pirate. Where's your Captain dolly?” Turning your eyes, your met with a trio of men standing next to you.

“None of your business. And don’t call me that.” What you could only assume is the leader started snickering before slamming his hand down next to you on the bar top.

“Your Captain and crew destroyed our ship, completely destroying our lives. But now that your here and alone, I think a small revenge message would be sent if you go back to your captain in pieces, right boys?” The two other men laugh, and you notice knives shining out of their pockets.

“I’m not drunk enough to deal with you. You want to go fight my Captain? Go for it. He’s on the island somewhere. Attacking me isn’t gonna do a damn thing.” Taking a hard swig of the alcohol of your glass, you’ve emptied it before you know it. You signal the bartender for another one, knowing that it isn’t gonna be near enough if you are dealing with even more annoyances.

“We know we stand no chance against the ‘Surgeon of Death’ woman. Which is what makes you the perfect message carrier for your Captain to know what happens when you mess with the Rubber Pirates!” You couldn’t help the laugh that escapes you upon hearing their names.

“Rubber Pirates? That’s the stupidest name I’ve ever heard. So stupid that I don’t even remember destroying their ship. I say we did you a favor.” You down your next glass like a champ and, once again, motion for another one. The sound of the liquor-filled glass had you slightly lip your lips. Before you could take another sip, the man grabs yoru forearm and pulls you to your feet.

“Don’t you dare laugh bitch!”

“Oh, I’m laughing, alright.” The man gripped you tighter before pulling out a small blade.

“I’m gonna cut out your tongue!” Grabbing one of the many empty glasses on the counter, you bash it against the man's head at full force. The glass broke against his head, leading the man to fall to the floor like a doll.

“Who do you think you are?!” His two goons yell at you before charging at you with knives as well. Reaching behind your back, you grab another empty glass. One of the men swiped at you, and you once again quickly bash the glass against his skull. Knocking him to the floor and landing in the already shattered glass mess.

The last man almost got you, but you managed to hit his face with the next fresh glass of alcohol. The liquid splashed everywhere on his clothes and on the ground. The floor turned slippery as he fell on top of his incapacitated buddies. With an annoyed huff and noticing everyone staring at you, you talk to the spectators.

“Anybody else wants to bother me for no fucking reason?” The room was silent, which you took for a no.

“Good now go back to drinking and pretend this never happened.” You turn around to sit back down on the bar top. You grab some berri’s and give them to the bartender.

“Here’s for the broken glass. I’m still not drunk enough, so keep those drinks coming.” Getting in a bar fight was something you weren’t planning on doing. You just wanted some drinks and to go home.

“What shitty pirates they are if a single girl can take them out.” A gruff voice said next to you. Furrowing your brows, you snap your head towards the voice, only to be speechless.

“Holy shit.” Your eyes widen when you see the most wanted new-gen pirate sitting next to you. All the stories you’ve heard about him show their worth.

“What? Scared?” Quickly pulling yourself together, you answer.

“Maybe a little. It’s not everyday you see the infamous Eustass ‘Captain’ Kid sitting next to you.” A small chuckle leaves your lips, and it pulls one from his in return.

“What’s a heart pirate doing by herself drinking in a dingy bar?” You knew that he was bad news. That you shouldn’t talk to a rival Captain. Especially with someone as strong as Eustass Kid. But who’s gonna stop you? Plus, the effects of the alcohol you’ve been consuming have finally started to take its toll.

“Drinking away my frustrations and problems. What about you, Captain? What’s the infamous Captain Kid doing in such a bar?”

“Passing time till it’s time to head back to my ship and get into the New World.” Ah. The New World. A place where you’ve heard countless stories of beasts, crazy islands, and weather. Insanity that only the strong survive.

“Same for us, I'm sure. It’s a little nerve-racking. Hearing all the stories about it. But you only live once, right?”

“Exactly. Which is why I’m going to be King of the Pirates and obtain the One Piece! And I’ll kill anyone who stands in my way.”

“Sounds on brand. I’ll cheer for you. How's that?”

“What? No faith in your Captain?” Kidd’s laughter was slightly contagious as it made you laugh while drinking.

“My Captain gets my faith when he stops acting like a jackass.”

“You know, some would call that mutiny.”

“Some may call it a mutiny. I call it losing faith in a relationship.”

“Surgeon of Death ain’t a good boyfriend? Go figures.”

“That is what lead me to this dingy ass bar. Got into another fight with him and now I’m here. Can say I haven’t drank this much since my last relationship.” You take another big gulp of alcohol before sighing.

“I just don’t fucking understand. What’s the point of being together if all that bastard does is push me away! If he wants to break up with me, he should just be a man and do so! I’m a grown woman; I can handle it.” The feelings of anger and hurt soon started bubbling up, and before you knew it, you're spilling your problems to a man you don’t know.

“Doesn’t fucking help that when I want to, I can’t even escape him when we're stuck on a ship together! This is the first time in two weeks that I’ve actually been on land and seen the sky.” You grumbled while finishing your drink.

“Tell you what, Heart Pirate, how bout you come join me and my crew to check out the auction house. I’m feeling charitable, so I’ll take pity on your sorry ass to get your mind off your shithead Captain.” A small part of you told you it was a terrible idea. Going alone with a rival pirate group? Yet, the sound of just being near other people sounded too good to pass up. Even if the offer was worded horribly.

“Sounds like a deal I’m willing to take. Lead the way, Captain.”

~~~

“What’s the point in being here again? I’m confused.” Bepo’s hushed words to Shachi didn’t go unnoticed by Law but he decided to not comment. He originally just wanted to see what it was about but as time grew on, he couldn’t help but have his thought travel back to you.

Scenes of the two of you just doing mundane things played through his head, and had a small smile tugging at his lips. When the two of you would speak over some coffee or simply sitting in the same room was nice. It didn’t need to be a big thing. Just your company was enough for him.

Yet he pushed you away once again by making you stay back on the ship. Even if he wanted you safe, no place was 100% safe on Sabaody. Not with Marine headquarters being so close. And knowing that, had him fearing for you and the crew’s safety.

Just then, your laugh trickled into his eats as looked around the room, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from. Once seeing nothing, he realized it’s probably just his conscious making him feel guilty for leaving you behind. It wouldn’t be the first time your voice haunted his thoughts after he pushed you away. The guilt always kills him, but it’s easier to keep you at a distance. It wasn’t fair to you that he knew. One moment holding you close then the next pushing you away.

Suddenly, your laughter filled his ears once again. It sounded too real to be in his head this time. But why would you be here? A million places on the archipelago, and you managed to make it to the auction house? Not to mention you were supposed to be back on the Polar Tang. So when Law turned his head towards the entrance, his eyes went wide seeing you standing next to Eustass ‘Captain’ Kid giggling.

What the fuck were you doing next to him?

“I can’t believe how you didn’t get tetanus! Any other death-defying childhood stories, Kid?” The sound of you calling him by his name had Law gritting his teeth. Since when did you get so close to the red-headed brute?

Law watched you and Kid continue talking and laughing. His fists clutched tightly when he saw Kid pull you closer and put his hand on your hip. Red plagued Law’s vision when he saw Kid smirk at him when he noticed the doctor’s vicious staring. The final straw was when the man made a sexual innuendo towards you when you weren’t looking while looking at Law with mocking eyes.

Standing up, Law marches towards you with a threatening aura surrounding him. You didn’t have the chance to say anything before Law grabbed your wrists and pulled you through the entrance before stopping just before reaching the outside.

“(Y/N)-ya, what the fuck are you doing away from the sub? And what are you doing next to Eustass-ya?” Rage dripped from Law’s words, but you paid no mind to it.

“Captain! What are you doing here?” The overwhelming smell of booze finally hit his nose as he heard your slurred speech.

“Are you drunk right now?!” Your giggling told him everything he needed to know. How much you had was up in the air as he saw you stumbling and struggling to stay on your feet.

“Pfft, since when does that matter? I’m speaking, aren’t I?” Law grabbed your forearms and held you in place, his eyes staring directly into your own.

“Don’t you know how irresponsible your being?! Drinking in this dangerous place and not to mention with Eustass Kid!” Your giggles soon stopped as you stared at Law with a sharp glare.

“Oh, cut me the crap. Since when do you care? It’s not like I’m that important enough for you to care. Plus! I was just talking to the man, and he seems to be just fine to me!” Law could hear an almost silent tremble in your voice as you spoke to him.

“If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t be reprimanding you!”

“You sure have a funny way of showing it. Cause I could have sworn you were only Captain to me. Funny how I can call the most infamous new gen pirate by his name, but I can’t call my own boyfriend by his name!” His conversation with you earlier popped back into his mind.

“I was…upset, alright?!” You threw Law’s hands off you as you stumble back, a small hiccup forming in the back of your throat.

“Oh, so you can take it out on me then? Sounds like a healthy relationship.”

“Listen, I’m sorry, okay?! Happy?”

“No! I’m not! I don’t know what you think gives you the right to police what I do when you’ve shown time and time again to give a shit less about me! I’ve talked to Kid more than I’ve talked to you all month, probably!” Law rubbed his eyes as he tried to talk you through your drunken state.

“I don’t want to hear anything more about that hot-headed idiot, alright! God, how many drinks have you had?” He could feel his blood freeze when he saw you using your fingers to count the amount of drinks you’ve consumed.

“So if I had four this morning…and seven not too long ago…-”

“You’ve had eleven drinks today?! It’s not even three pm! Are you trying to drink yourself to death?!”

“Maybe I am huh? Ever think about that?!” A cold quiet settled between the two of you as Law watched tears finally fall from your eyes as hiccups left your throat. He could feel his heart twist and turn with each tear that slipped down your cheeks.

“What’s the point in anything if I cause so much trouble that my own ‘boyfriend’ ignores me for something I don’t know I’ve done! What’s the point in getting help if I just fall back into addiction, only harder?! I’m tired of all the pitiful looks I get from the crew when I walk away in tears after a fight! Sick of getting looks when I enter the kitchen! I know I’ve got problems, but it's hard to solve them when the whole world fights against me!” The man stood quiet as he listened to you.

“I’m not that strong, alright?! I’m not strong enough to just shrug off your words and actions! I’m not you, okay?! I can’t get over my problems by dismissing it! I can’t solve my problems by myself, and that’s what I feel when I’m near you! I feel alone! I…” Your sobs soon echoed in the hallway as your uniform started catching your tears. Law could only stand still as he felt frozen, your confession ripping him to shreds.

“I’m not strong enough to be alone…”

“(Y/N)...I-”

“Don’t. I-I think it’s best if we go back to the way things were. Your my Captain, and I’m just the crewmate who can’t get her shit togther. I’ll met you back at the ship Captain.” Turning around to leave, Law finally moves to grab your hand before you could walk away.

“Your not alone! I’m here alright! Let’s get you some water to sober you up so we can talk rationally okay? You shouldn’t be alone right now okay?! Your not! I’m right here so let’s just-” Tugging your hand from Law’s grip, you look at him with hot tears slipping down your cheeks.

“Even with you ‘by my side’ I'll always be alone.”

#one piece x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader

314 notes · View notes

hp-hcs · 4 months

Note

violent stalker mattheo riddle.... each guy and girl readers ever spoken to? damn wdym they showed up beaten up the next day and they dont even know who did it ????

i feel like he'd also get violent with reader and ykw .... im so insane id let him beat me bloody .

"i'm doing this because you're not listening to me, sweetheart. how else am i supposed to show you that trying to leave me is what you shouldn't do?"

hey uh, future requesters: giving me a line of dialogue or smth to build around means i’ll finish your request WAY faster. tysm anon 😭

requests open

prometheus — yandere! insane! stalker! mattheo riddle x gn! reader

wow! there’s a fuck ton of really fucking dark violence, murder, torture, manipulation, abduction, and horrific domestic abuse in this! please be careful if you choose to read this!

1.5k words!

i jokingly took a sociopathy test with a couple of friends earlier today and i scored like really high so uh dunno how to feel about that

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Am I…am I in trouble or something, Professor…?”

Professor McGonagall’s lips thinned and she looked at you over the rim of her glasses. She folded her hands together neatly where they rested on her desk before speaking. “Not for now, no. Relax a bit, dear. The law states that you’re innocent until proven guilty.”

“That’s not- that doesn’t really make me less nervous.”

The professor opened her mouth to speak again when a chime alerted her to an incoming floo call.

With a wave of her wand, the flames flared green and a genial-looking man stepped out of the fireplace. He brushed soot off of his robes and grinned brightly as soon as he caught sight of the professor.

“Minerva! Lovely to see you again. I’m afraid Quincy isn’t going to make it. Corbett is sick, poor thing, so he’s staying home with him today,” the man gushed, evidently quite close with the professor.

“Oh, send them both my well wishes, Hez, dear. Anyway, this is the student you asked to see, Y/n L/n,” she motioned towards you.

The man gave you a cheery grin—far too cheerful for this early in the morning—and held out his hand for you to shake. “A pleasure to meet you, Mx. L/n. I’m Auror Hezekiah Ackerly. I’d just like to ask you a few questions if that’s alright?”

You dubiously shook his outstretched hand, a bit put off by his bright grin that never seemed to dim. “Sure.”

“Wonderful!” the Auror pulled the second office guest chair closer and sat down across from you. “Let’s get the easy questions out of the way. Do you have many friends? Or maybe a small, close-knit group of people you regularly hang out with?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. The fuck kind of question was this?

“Uh, I guess a close-knit group?”

Auror Ackerly summoned a notebook and quill, writing quickly. “Who belongs to this group?”

Seriously, this felt more like being at a psychiatrist’s office than being questioned by a government official.

“Er, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger? And sometimes Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood?”

Seriously, what was going on?

“And do you have any…romantic relationships? Any troubles or issues there?”

Your eyes narrow. “What’re you playing at?”

“Cormac McLaggen was found dead in the Forbidden Forest this morning,” Professor McGonagall cut to the chase, interrupting Auror Ackerly. “You were the last known person to have spoken to him, and several of your peers attest that they heard an argument break out between the two of you last night after dinner.”

Your eyebrows shot up and your jaw dropped. “Dead? Wh- how?”

“That’s what we at the Ministry would like to know,” Auror Ackerly interjected smoothly. “You’re not in trouble, Mx. L/n, but I am here to escort you to the Ministry for questioning.”

Your jaw dropped.

They thought you did this?

~~~

You sat at a table, alone in some room deep inside the Ministry building.

You huffed, folding yet another paper crane from the stack of sticky notes Ackerly had oh-so-thoughtfully left for you after your interrogation.

You set the finished bird on the table, the small pile of origami cranes you’ve made while waiting slowly getting larger.

Peeling off another sticky note, you started folding another when a nice-looking man in well-pressed robes entered the barren room and stopped in front of your table. He looked down at you with mild bafflement.

“L/n, I presume?”

“That’d be me,” you mumbled, adding your newest crane to the pile.

The man smiled gently before waving a hand over your paper birds and enchanting them to fly.

You tried to hide your awe as you look up at the cranes that floated and soared around the room.

The man smiled at your reaction. “It’s quite nice to finally meet you, Mx. L/n. You’ve been the topic of many a discussion today.”

“I’d imagine so, yes,” you said dryly. “Not many teenagers accused of murder coming through the department, huh?”

He grinned. “Not really, no.”

The man pulled out the other chair at the table, sitting down across from you and rifling through the thick manila folder he held.

“Are you here to interrogate me some more?” You asked suspiciously. “Ask Ackerly, man. I already told him everything I know.”

He laughed. “No, I’m not here to interrogate you. I’m your lawyer, Mx. L/n.”

You blink. “I don’t have a lawyer. My family can’t afford that.”

“You always have the right to an attorney, Mx. L/n,” he said kindly as he held out his hand to you. “Octavian Foxglove, Esquire.”

“Y/n L/n, but you already knew that,” you greet, shaking his hand.

He smiled again.

He was a very smiley man.

He laid out the manila folder and turned it around on the table so that you would be able to see it.

The first paper on top was a copy of your school records, with a bright red PRIMARY SUSPECT stamped over the top of your picture.

You grimaced.

Your lawyer nodded sympathetically. “There’s a photo underneath that page, by the way. Supposedly the last photo we have of McLaggen still alive and, uh…it’s not looking great for you, in all honesty.”

You moved your school records page aside, finding a standard moving photograph paperclipped to the inside of the file.

It showed, quite clearly, you speaking with Cormac McLaggen in a hallway. Picture-Cormac angrily threw his arms up in the air and silently yelled at picture-you, while your body language in the photo loudly screamed ‘furious & upset’.

He was right. It wasn’t a great look.

“And there’s only one thing I need you to- oh, where is it?” He dug through the inside pockets of his robes, procuring a pen. “Aha! The next page has a simple contract. I just need a signature stating that you either accept me as your public defender, or would like to request someone else from the Ministry to handle your case.”

You nod, flipping the page to the contract he indicated. Mr. Foxglove smiled again and held the pen out to you.

As soon as your fingers made contact with the pen, you vanished.

~~~

You stumbled blindly, almost falling to the floor before a hand caught your elbow and steadied you.

“Easy, careful.”

You whirled around, surprised to see a different man in Mr. Foxglove’s clothes. He held his hands up in a non-threatening manner.

“Woah- slow down, kid. You’re fine.”

“Who the hell are you?”

“I’m- was your lawyer,” he shrugged and smiled. “Augustus Rookwood, at your service.”

It dawned on you. “It was a portkey,” you breathed. “The pen. It was a portkey, wasn’t it?”

“Clever kid,” he sounded impressed. “Now c’mon. The boss wants to see you.”

You followed the man without complaint; half out of curiosity, half out of the knowledge that Augustus Rookwood was an Azkaban escapee charged with at least forty counts of first degree murder.

Pretty simple choice.

It looked like you were in a wealthy aristocrat’s house. Er, mansion, more accurately. The hallway you were walking down was old and stuffy and dusty, and the overall aura of Dark magic that permeated the very air of the house sent shivers down your spine.

Rookwood led you down a flight of rickety stairs to the first floor, and then down a narrow hallway and into a study, where he left you without another word.

The study itself was old. Everything was coated in a thick layer of dust except for the pristine and polished bureau right in the center.

(Obviously, ‘the boss’ was sitting at this desk.)

((Villains tend to be predictable like that.))

However, you were surprised to see that ‘the boss’ was-

“Riddle?”

He looked up at the sound of your voice, a wide grin spreading across his face as he hurriedly got up from his desk.

“Y/n, darling, hello!” He gushed, practically skipping over towards you before pulling you into a very uncomfortable hug. “Sweetheart- oh, I’m so glad you’ve made it here safely! Rookwood really is my only competent assistant; I must be sure to give him a raise.”

You froze up at the unexpected hug, your arms remaining stiffly by your sides. He let go after a moment, but remained just a bit too close for comfort.

“Hopefully the Ministry didn’t give you too hard of a time,” he rubbed the back of his neck with a guilty grin. “I promise Ackerly’s a good man. When he’s, y’know, in control of his own body.”

Your eyes widen and you take a step back. “What?”

“Just a little Imperius, darling, no worries. Did you like your gift?”

You blinked, thrown off by his rapid changes in subjects. “Uh- gift?”

He smiled proudly. “McLaggen? He won’t bother you anymore, see?”

All the color drained from your face.

“You killed Cormac?”

He nods, grinning. “Uh-huh. I heard what McLaggen said to you last night in the hall, and I don’t like when other people look at what’s mine.”

“Yours?” You repeat, your lip curling in disgust. “You’d better not be referring to me.”

Mattheo paused, looking at you in confusion. “What else would I be talking about?”

You scoff in shock, shaking your head. “Yeah, nope, I’m out.”

You turned around without further preamble, marching out of the room and towards the front door that you’d passed earlier. Mattheo laughed and followed you out of the study at a leisurely pace, seemingly unworried.

“Where are you going to go, darling? As far as the general public is concerned, you’re on the run after brutally murdering a classmate. You’re Wanted with a capital W, sweetheart.”

“I’ll figure it out,” you snarled, storming towards the front door.

“Y/n…” He warned, drawing his wand and pointing it at you. “Get back here. Now.”

“Fuck off.” You spat over your shoulder, not sparing him another glance.

That was clearly not the thing to say. As if in slow motion, you heard a dreaded word fall from his lips.

“Crucio!”

You were struck with pain that was so overwhelming, so blinding, so agonizing, that you were sure you were going to die.

You were only half aware that you’d fallen to the floor at some point as wave after wave of unbearable pain crashed over you. You could feel your bones creaking and grinding together, your skin splitting apart only to knit itself back together just to be torn apart again, like you were some fucked up wixen version of fucking Prometheus.

You were only vaguely aware that you were speaking, pleading. Pleading not for the Unforgivable to be lifted, but for him to just end it, end you, entirely.

“K-kill me! Kill m-me…please!” You begged, blood trailing down from the corner of your mouth and smeared across your chin. You must’ve bit your tongue hard for it to bleed like that, and the sting from that wound while you speak is just too overwhelming when combined with the pain from the Cruciatus Curse.

Then all at once, it stops.

You gasp for air, your entire body trembling and numb as you lay sprawled across the floor like a marionette with its strings cut.

Mattheo kneeled down by your side and cupped your face in his hands with a kind of tender gentleness that felt deeply wrong coming from him.

“See, I’m doing this because you’re not listening to me, sweetheart. How else am I supposed to show you that trying to leave me is what you shouldn’t do?” He cooed softly, gently wiping the blood from your chin with the sleeve of his shirt.

You flinched back at his touch. Your body—still wracked with uncontrollable quivers and trembles—tried in vain to crawl away from him.

“Oh no, honey- hey, honey- I promise it’s all over, okay? You were so so good for me. But you see now that you’ve got to stay with me, right?”

Your jaw quivered and your still-stinging tongue felt thick in your mouth, yet you managed to spit vicious hatred towards him.

“G-go to hell.”

A flurry of emotions crossed his face: surprise, anger, guilt, and disappointment; all of which were topped by the underlying aura of pure sadistic glee that exuded from him.

“Oh? Do you need another lesson or two before you learn?” He sighed and shook his head patronizingly. “Very well then, darling. Crucio!”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

taglist! @gayaristocrat @slytherinboysappreciation @lemonaderiddle @h-------n @yournogoodalone @knave-hearts @schaebickel @lexacantsleep @big-brother-problems @darkcharmx @cyberbl4de @amandajonhsson @megannxn @catz-80 @ghostiesen @fruityfrog505 @coysa @fruitypebblesstuff @mildlyuninformative @glittervame @cayaevans1 @lizeylavender @cloudydaysinmydreams @ironickarkatlover @ahead-fullofdreams @tachyon-girl @jaythes1mp @lovelyfandomqueen @ashisgreedy @mothermah3m @siuspider @ineedtogetalife11 @cherry-berry-ollie @cherriosxfish @a-hopeless-romantics-blog @fallingblackveils @ldrsog @linde0s @ghost-tyr @booksouflette @h0treader @maraudersforlife2005 @ahano @miah-macaroni @whatislifes-stuff @iara-ximena17 @goth-blackcat @dutifullyfuturisticwizard @docackerman @mizu-mc @tiacordelia02 @mingyuethesimp @luvlli @dracoshusband @verychaoticgay @thathogwartsjedi @lisbethpisbeth @remusily @daliah-xxo @rainy-darling @corinneeagles @sle1epy @averys-place @shibble @i-love-sirius-black7 @azu-202029 @artemismckinnon @lostboychimera @yukimaniac @annegrey

#harry potter #hp #fuck jkr #x reader #hp x gn reader #hp x male reader #x male reader #x gender neutral reader #mattheo riddle x reader #yandere mattheo riddle #yandere harry potter #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x male reader #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader

363 notes · View notes

sleepyhutcherson · 24 days

Text

futturman comforting you headcannons

masterlist | requested by @futturmansgf (babe im sorry this is so late xx hope you enjoy!)

pairing: josh futturman x gn!reader

tags: comfort, fluff, angst, established relationship, best friends to lovers but it’s not really mentioned, mention of family issues (nothing specific stated), use of y/n.

author’s note: finally getting back to focusing on my requests! this is so rushed and not my best work for sure but i still hope it’s enjoyable <3 also not edited so excuse any mistakes!

First off, I 100% believe Josh is the type of boyfriend to tell you to call him whenever you need him—and he empathises how it could be three in the morning and if you call him he will pick up!

He’ll probably be up gaming, playing either Biotic Wars or something.

It doesn’t matter how into his game he is, the moment he sees your contact appear on his screen, he puts his controller down, mumbling a quick “hold on” to whoever he’s playing with before muting his mic.

“Hey, Y/N,” he’ll say through the line, his voice gentle. The moment he hears you sniffle and the sadness in your tone, his heart breaks. “Is everything okay, love?” He asks out of concern.

He picks up your call, you didn’t often call him this late so this must’ve been important. “Hey, Y/N, is everything okay?” He asks through the line, his voice gentle. He hears you sniffle and he can tell something is wrong (also because it’s not everyday that you call him this late.)

He listens to you explain what occurred, and before you can get too in detail he asks you if he can come over.

He listens to a brief explanation of what happened, you want to say more but you’re so overwhelmed with everything, and you’re partially scared you’re bothering him.

Josh knows you through and through, he has since you two were really young. So, he can sense you’re struggling and that you clearly want to say more so he doesn’t hesitate to ask you what he wants to, immediately blurting it out once you’re done speaking.

“What?” You ask, unsure if you heard him correctly.

“Can I come over?” He repeats, his tone gentle. You don’t know why but it surprises you—it surprises you that someone is willing to drive late at night just to hear you ramble about your problems.

You’re quite, no answer leaving your lips so quickly Josh says, “you—I don’t have to, er, if you—you don’t want me to but…” he trails off.

Truth is, he wants to hold you. He wants to be there for you physically if he can. If you’ll allow him to.

If you want, he’ll listen to you over the phone of course but he prefers to be there with you.

“Josh, it’s three in the morning…” you respond. This is not you saying no, though, you’re just still unsure if he wants to actually come over.

You hear him let out a soft chuckle. “I know, Y/N/N, but I really don’t mind. You clearly need someone right now.”

You agree and both of you hang up, Josh not even bothering to tell his friends (who were still on the game) bye, simply leaving the game.

Yes, Josh Futturman is the type of boyfriend to drive down to your house even if it’s three in the morning.

He doesn’t show up empty handed either, probably stops at some ‘open 24 hours’ shop to grab you some of your favourite snacks.

The moment you open the door, he moves forward to hug you. You were still crying, a little less but he could see your teary eyes and your stained cheeks.

With that, you both get cosy on the sofa in your living room, Josh patting his lap for you to lay your head so he can play with your hair while you tell him about your issues.

He listens the whole time, he doesn’t talk until your done.

He honestly can’t imagine what you’re going through, how your family has the capability to treat you like that. It pains him that you’re being treated so poorly by them.

He plants soft kisses on your head whenever you start crying, wiping your tears away.

When you’re done, he cups your face in his hands, gently wiping your tears away with his thumb. He looks into his eyes, his own glossy with probably tears. “I’m so sorry, love,” he frowns. He hates seeing you like this. He especially hates that your family’s causing this. “I know you’re struggling, I know I can’t take your pain away but I want you to know that you’re, like, the most important person to me. It might not mean much but I love you and I’m sorry your family hasn’t shown you that love but you are loved by me, okay?”

He always knows what to say in these situations.

He knows how to make you feel loved even in moments like these.

He peppers kisses over you face, even your tear stained cheeks, whispering “I love you”’s between each kiss.

Lastly, he’ll land at your lips, kissing you so softly and lovingly. He takes a moment between the kiss to tell you how perfect you are which makes you smile softly.

Your snacks that he brought over go ignored for now, Josh holding you in his arms until you fall asleep, finally at ease.

#josh futturman #josh hutcherson x reader #josh futturman fluff #josh futturman x you #josh futturman smut #josh futturman imagine #josh hutcherson fluff #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson smut #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh futturman x reader #future man x reader #future man #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt comfort

163 notes · View notes

ovaryacted · 8 months

Text

I had a shit ton of ideas about fuckboy!Leon since I saw the fanart made by @glacierclear a while ago, so I decided to write some blurbs about him because I'm obsessed. (At 1.1k words mind you) It gets angsty the further you read.

So, in a world where Leon was able to make the mistakes any young adult would, what would him being a fuckboy look like?

Fuckboy!Leon is a dickhead, a borderline asshole. It’s not entirely intentional, but that’s just the person he is, more so the person he’s become over the years. A literal walking red flag and isn’t ashamed about it, nor does he try to hide it. He��s a walking shitstorm, everyone knows that, and he wears it like a badge with a shit-eating grin on his pretty face.

Fuckboy!Leon whose aesthetic involves black painted nails, eyeliner, and piercings all over his face, more punk than anything, with a slight tinge of jock but that’s only on occasion. He still remembers when he went to a dingy tattoo parlor at 17 with a fake ID after some beers, getting his nipple pierced as a dare from Chris. That was his gateway into the piercing world, going back to do the other nipple to match, followed by some on his ear and now a tongue bar he likes to flash around.

Fuckboy!Leon is a known frat boy and party go-er. You’ll probably find him near the keg drinking straight out of the tap, or playing beer pong as an excuse to drink more. He’s also a social smoker, if there’s weed around from a friend of his, he’ll take a hit or two of a joint just because he could. Despite him being a party animal, he’s actually really smart. A high academic achiever, top of his class and enjoys reading. He just comes off as such a nonchalant douchebag nobody seems to care to ask him about school.

Fuckboy!Leon is an impulsive mess. He’s always getting himself into some shit, whether it be fights or arguments, or being defiant with authority. He just doesn’t give a shit about the rules or labels, thinking it’s all overrated. He’s hotheaded, stubborn, and thinks he knows everything. His ego paired with that vulgar mouth of his constantly gets him in trouble.

Fuckboy!Leon who is a flirt, a cocky one at that. He doesn’t pay any mind about how he’s perceived, being too annoyed with people as a whole to really give a shit what others think of him. A cornball at heart, he’d have signature one-liners that would make some people roll their eyes, and others drool at the mouth. Most of the time they’ll do the job, but sometimes just sometimes, he’ll get that rejection that he’ll brush off as if it were nothing. Only he’ll think about it for the next few days and try again to remedy that rejection by asking that person again on a shitty date. It doesn’t work.

Fuckboy!Leon who has the reputation of a whore on campus. Everyone knows about him, about what he does or can do in any given setting. You’ve heard of the stories passing by the halls, both girls and guys talking about how well his mouth is and what he does with his hands. Not to mention, how he’s certainly not shy about what he’s carrying. So his ego matches his attitude given that he has a reason to be cocky in the first place.

Fuckboy!Leon who has commitment issues and doesn’t do relationships, much less anything regarding any establishment of intimacy. He doesn’t want the stress of dealing with feelings and actively avoids situations that involve them. All he wants or looks for, are people who are willing to give him a good time, no more and no less. Though as much as he frequently deprives himself of that, there are times when he craves affection from another person. He shuts those ideas down with a quick shot of cheap tequila or some weed, whichever works faster.

Fuckboy!Leon that has this façade of not giving a fuck about himself or other people. That didn’t happen naturally. He used to be the guy who was constantly looking out for others, being reliable, and always saving people while nobody fought to save him. That version of himself died after being hurt one too many times, building an emotional wall that was impenetrable and would protect him from being wounded again. Nobody could hurt him so long as he didn’t let them get too close.

Fuckboy!Leon who has abandonment issues and is scared of intimacy. He’s been left alone and forgotten by the same people who said they cared about him. The last thing Leon wants is to try to mend the pieces of himself after someone was finished using him. So he doesn’t invest in people or personal relationships outside of friendship. He learned a long time ago that if he keeps people at a distance, they can’t hurt him.

Fuckboy!Leon is insecure to a degree. It’s not that he doesn’t think he’s attractive, he is and he knows that and uses it to his advantage. But he oversexualizes himself because he thinks that’s the only way people would want him, the only way he can get people's attention. All this does for him is make him question his self-worth constantly, and doubt whether or not anyone views him as a human being instead of someone expendable.

Fuckboy!Leon who constantly self-sabotages because he doesn’t think he’s good enough for happiness or love. On top of the trust issues he has, he feels that once he has something going for him, he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. He’ll find a way to mess things up for himself to get the result he’s used to having. Leon doesn’t want to risk being in a position of vulnerability, so instead he’ll hurt the other person before they get the chance to do it to him first.

Fuckboy!Leon who despite the trauma he buries and usually dismisses, all he really wants is someone to care enough about him to want him in their life. He was always there when people needed him but when it was time for him to need help there was nobody in his corner to support him. He wishes that for once, someone cared enough to fight for him instead.

Fuckboy!Leon who underneath that cocky, irritating, and emotionally-detached persona is someone that wants to be loved. He’s so certain he isn’t worthy of that and thinks nobody would be willing to try for him. He thinks he’s hard to love, that it’s all rotten work. He’s a douche sure, but he’s a sweetheart underneath, one that is too scared to come out. All Leon needs is someone ready to give him a chance, and with a lot of patience and guidance, it will be something so fulfilling that the way he’s viewed by other people and himself will change for the better.

I'm totally not thinking of writing a fanfic about this but shhh.

©️ ovaryacted 2023. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy drabble #fuckboy!leon #fuckboy!leon kennedy #resident evil #resident evil drabble #ovaryacted drabbles #I rlly wanted these ideas out in the open

498 notes · View notes

zepskies · 2 months

Text

The Old-Fashioned Way

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: You and Dean are having trouble trying to start a family. What happens when you turn to a spell for a possible solution? [Soulmate AU]

AN: Happy Valentine's Day! ❣️ Welcome back to the Never Say Goodbye-verse, my first ever Soulmate AU! Feels appropriate to celebrate today with some soulmates lol.

Honestly, I have really missed these two. I can’t believe it’s almost been a year since I wrote this series! And I’ve been wanting to find a way to come back to it, so when I recently got this request, I couldn't resist:

The reader finds out she is pregnant and Dean’s reaction.

But of course, I couldn’t make it that simple… This story takes place five years after the Bonus Tracks (3-part sequel).

Word Count: 5,000

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship (marriage). Soulmates, angst, issues in pregnancy, hurt/comfort, fluff, implied smut.

❤️ Series Masterlist

Today marked five years that Dean had been an officer of the Sioux Falls Police Department.

After twenty-eight odd years of committing felonies of varying degrees…mostly for the greater good, he still found it strange sometimes.

He’d been partnered with his father-in-law, Jack, and by now, Dean had finally lost his sense of “imposter syndrome.”

Jody bought him a pie to commemorate the occasion, and while a little embarrassed, he wasn’t mad about it. The precinct employees now shared the dessert on paper plates from their respective desks and cubicles.

Dean sat in the bullpen with Jack (who was on a call), Jody, and even Jessie Deluca, the boy he’d once arrested for stealing candy and groceries from a gas station.

Well, Jessie wasn’t such a kid anymore. He was now their 18-year-old intern.

“How’s the boysenberry?” Jody asked Dean. Her lips curved upward when he turned to her with a crumb-covered smile.

“Real good,” he said.

She couldn’t help but laugh a little. “I can’t with this. Come ‘ere.”

She grabbed a napkin and leaned over to wipe at his mouth the way a mother would her errant child. Dean just rolled his eyes.

“Really?” he snipped.

“You look like my five-year-old son after a round of SpaghettiOs,” she said.

“Makes you wonder how his wife deals with him,” Jessie muttered under his breath while he entered expense reports into his computer. Never mind that he had a purple berry stain around the corner of his mouth.

Dean shot him a wry look, along with his crumpled napkin.

“I don’t wanna hear that from a punk like you,” he teased. “You haven’t had a girlfriend since…what, junior prom?”

Jessie fended off the stained napkin with a grimace. But he also smarted at the dig. His arms crossed defensively as he leaned back in his chair.

“As a matter a fact, I’ve got a date on Friday,” he sniffed. “And no, I’m not telling you her name.”

Dean and Jody shared an amused look.

“Aww, look at him, pretending he’s got a date,” Dean said. He fought a deeper grin when Jessie threw the disgusting napkin back at him.

“Fine! Her name’s Annie. You happy now?” Jessie said.

Dean shared another look with Jody.

“Aww, he’s actually got a date,” said Dean. He smirked at the kid next. “Lemme know if you need to borrow some cologne. Chicks dig that.”

“Ugh,” Jessie groaned. He leaned his elbows on his desk and pushed the palms of his hands into his eyes. He knew he’d be catching flack on this for the rest of the week.

Dean chuckled, but before he had a chance to tease their intern some more, his cell phone rang. It was you, and he felt his good mood continue as he answered.

“Hey, baby.”

“Hey, how’s the day going?” you asked.

“Good,” he replied. “We’re on lunch break. Jody got me a pie for my five-year mark at the PD.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet…literally. She knows you too well,” you laughed.

He nodded in agreement. “Yeah, she really does.”

“Tell her and everyone else I said hi.”

“Will do,” he said with a smile. “You just callin’ to check up on me?”

“Well, that, and…when are you getting home tonight?” you asked. The smooth, leading note of your voice had Dean’s lips curving into a smirk.

“Ah, well…” He pushed away from his desk and stepped away from the bullpen for a little privacy in the hall. “That depends. What’s going on?”

“Let’s just say…I have an idea,” you replied. It had Dean’s brows raising. You’d been having a lot of ideas for the past year, and he’d been more than ready and willing for most of them.

“Oh, yeah?” he intoned. While he leaned against the wall in the main hallway of the precinct, his arm crossed under his elbow as he continued holding the phone to his ear. “What’d you have in mind?”

“You’ll just have to find out,” you said.

It only took his brain about a moment and a half to compute.

“All right. In that case, I’ll try to be home promptly at six, barring there’s no shootouts at the 7-Eleven,” he quipped.

“Ugh, please, don’t even joke about that,” you said, your tone sobering.

Dean realized, without even having to read his soulmate’s thoughts, that you were reminded of the last time an explosive incident happened at the local gas station, just two weeks before their wedding day. He dimmed as well.

“Yeah, ‘m sorry,” he said, swiping a hand over his mouth. “Uh…okay. I’ll see you tonight, sweetheart.”

“Okay, be careful,” you said. You always said it—in the morning, whenever he left for work, whenever you two managed to talk during the day. It was routine, but it also wasn’t.

And you still wished him a good rest of his day before you hung up. Dean pocketed his phone and returned to the bullpen, where Jody was putting away the rest of the pie. He eyed her just to know exactly where she was setting it down in the kitchen, for future reference.

Jessie peered up from his computer and asked if that was you on the phone.

“Yeah, she says hi,” Dean replied.

Jessie smirked. “‘Course she does. I’m her favorite.”

Dean shot him a look, knowing the kid liked you probably even more than he liked Dean. You’d become like a big sister to Jessie…but it didn’t stop Dean from occasionally being annoyed.

“Shut up and eat your pie.”

Dean arrived that night, more or less on time, to find that you’d cooked up a feast. It was laid out across the dining table: steak, scalloped potatoes, carrots and broccoli, and even freshly baked cornbread with butter.

“Is it my birthday again?” he asked, despite it already being February.

He ventured into the kitchen where you were getting two bottles of beer. You looked up at him with a smile when he came over and held you from behind. You enjoyed the warmth of his body pressed against your back, while his hands found your hips.

“I cook all the time, Dean,” you pointed out. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head in greeting.

“Hmm. Yeah, but now my spidey senses are tingling,” he said.

You set down the beer before turning in his embrace and twining your arms around his neck. Already he could feel your anticipation through the soul bond, but that was all you were letting him sense. You were keeping your walls up a bit, to stop him from hearing your thoughts. In this case, it felt like a tease.

You tilted your head, a smile playing across your lips. “Oh, yeah?”

Dean smirked down at you. “Oh, yeah.”

You laughed and let him greet you properly with a kiss. You returned it, affectionately caressing his cheek, but you stopped him before he could start pressing you harder into the counter. You held up a placating hand against his chest.

“Wait, wait, the food’s gonna get cold,” you said. And all too quickly, you’d extricated yourself from his arms and went to finish placing the silverware on the table. Dean begrudgingly followed suit by helping you with the glasses and plates.

Dinner was delicious. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a steak that good; you two had been scrounging and saving to get out of this apartment and buy a house, along with other things you and Dean had been planning for your future.

By the time the leftovers were put away and the dishes were put in the dishwasher, he started to sense that you were ready to come around with the real reason you’d called him at work today, let alone made such a nice and expensive meal. You went over to where he stood at the kitchen sink and rubbed his arm.

“Hey,” you greeted.

Dean tried to stifle his knowing smile. “Yeah?”

But when he looked over at you, he realized you seemed nervous, not flirtatious. You were serious, and now, he was concerned.

“What?” he asked.

You sighed, hesitating for a moment. Then you went over to a nearby drawer and got some rubber gloves you always kept at work and at home—the kind doctors wore.

You went for your large work bag that normally stored your laptop and files, and instead, you pulled out an old book. Dean’s brows raised of their own accord, considering the last time you accidentally trifled with a book like that.

“What the hell is that?” he asked, with some trepidation. You laid the book out on the kitchen counter.

“It’s a journal of some kind, written in Latin, dating back from the late 1500s. Can you believe that?” Your head raised from where you were examining the cover and spine, but Dean was incredulous.

“What’re you doing with that?” he asked. Your lips pursed, and he felt a tendril of your guilt.

Most likely, you’d taken it from the museum where you worked without permission. You were in charge of the growing library of ancient texts that were stored there, and most of them were too old and valuable for exhibition, even behind glass. He doubted you were even allowed to open this book, let alone “borrow” it from the museum.

You sighed and held up a placating hand. “Okay, Dean, just hear me out.”

You opened the book to a page you’d placed a strip of paper in for bookmarking purposes. You pointed at a page filled with scrawled words that Dean didn’t really understand. Sam was always better at reading Latin.

“That is a fertility spell,” you said.

The weight of that fell between you for a moment, rendering Dean speechless. It took a few seconds for his brain to register what you were saying, followed quickly by a sad, contemplative frown as he stared back at you. You were serious about this, even hopeful.

“Sweetheart, we don’t need that,” he said, shaking his head. Your expression firmed, though it became touched with melancholy.

“It’s been a year, Dean,” you said. “We’ve been trying for a year, and I’m still not pregnant.”

He blew out a breath. “The doctor said—”

“We’ve done everything the doctor said,” you snapped. “Fertility treatments are either going to take too long or are too expensive, and they still carry risks.”

“And this isn’t a risk?” Dean shot back, gesturing at the book. “You don’t know if this will work, or what the hell it’ll really do to you.”

Your brows furrowed, but you didn’t back down. You held your hands to your hips.

“Uncle Bobby said it’s legit,” you said. Dean blinked in surprise. He shifted back on his heels and crossed his arms.

“You ran this by Bobby before me?” he said. You could feel the small lance of his upset, as well as see it across his face.

You bit the inside of your lip. “I just wanted to make sure!”

Dean took in a deep breath. He mentally counted to five.

“What exactly did he say?” he asked.

You paused at that. “…Well, he said it was a real spell.”

His brows rose. “And?”

“And…that magic is unpredictable and we should talk about it first. But that’s why we’re talking now!” you reasoned.

Your husband’s gaze lifted heavenward as he threw up his hands in aggravation.

“Dean—” you tried, but it didn’t stop him from snatching up the book. Despite your protests, he took it with him into the master bedroom you shared and shoved the book into his nightstand. You had followed him this far, but you stopped short when he turned around to face you.

“I will check this out,” he said, and his tone boded no argument. “But for the record, I’m against this. Magic is unpredictable at best, and not for nothing, it always comes at a price. I’ll be damned if you’re gonna pay it again.”

You paused. Hearing the vehemence in his tone, feeling the force of emotion behind his words, and your own circling memories of being possessed by a magic-wielding goddess…it had you nodding in agreement, even as tears welled up in your eyes.

Dean faltered a little inside. Always the damn tears. He gathered you into his arms and held you close in comfort. He pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“We’ll figure this out. I promise,” he said.

You tried to believe him.

Late that night, however, you couldn’t help yourself.

Once you were sure Dean was asleep beside you, hearing his deep, even breaths, you made your move. Dressed in just an old college shirt and some pajama shorts, you slid out of bed and tiptoed over to his nightstand to get the book.

You took it into the kitchen and started assembling the ingredients Bobby had reluctantly helped you translate. (He didn’t know that you had taken a couple of items from his house for the spell.)

You prepared them in a bowl. The resulting liquid looked brown and disgusting. You mixed it around, grimacing at the smell, and carefully poured it into a glass. The last thing the spell required was a few drops of your blood, and then you were supposed to drink it.

God, this is terrible, you thought. Part of you couldn’t believe you were going through with this, but…you grabbed a kitchen knife in order to make a shallow cut on your palm.

The steel was poised against your hand. You took a fortifying breath, but before you could cut into your skin, Dean grabbed your wrist with a strong grip, startling a gasp out of you.

“What the hell are you doing?!” he said, or more like shouted. He was irate, his voice bounding off the walls of the apartment.

You knew he had every right to be, and you didn’t have a good answer for him. Shock had stifled you into silence.

Dean let go of you and took the glass next. He peered in disgust at the concoction inside, but he quickly dumped it into the sink and ignored your protests. He threatened to burn the damn book next.

“Dean, stop! Please,” you said tearfully as you stilled his hands on the book. “If there’s some kind of price to the spell, I’ll pay it!”

“What’re you talking about! Are you crazy?” he asked, through furrowed brows. You squeezed his hands.

“Believe me, I love what we have. I love our life, my job, all of it,” you said. “But I want a family, and I want it with you.”

Dean started to soften at that, when you met his eyes. You paused, taking in a shaky breath.

“It should be simple, but it’s not," you said. "I just can’t understand why it’s so impossible. Why…why there’s something wrong with me.”

Dean’s anger broke down, bit by bit the more you spoke. He let go of the book and reached for you. He held you against his chest, rubbing your back as you quietly wept. You tried to stifle it, but that just made your body tremble even more. He did his best to steady you, rocking you back and forth. His eyes closed for a moment.

You both knew that the expensive fertility doctor hadn’t found anything wrong with either of you, even after a month of testing.

“In certain cases, it just takes longer for some couples,” she’d said. But clearly, you had just been blaming yourself. Dean couldn’t abide that.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he said firmly. “Believe me, I want that too. But I also want to make sure you’re safe.”

Emotion clogged in his throat when he thought about what might’ve happened if he hadn’t stopped you. And in turn, you sobered even more when you managed to pick up on his thoughts.

“If something would’ve happened, and I was too late to stop it,” he said, clearing his throat. “…I just can’t, okay?”

After a moment, you nodded. You allowed yourself to rest against his chest and try to calm the racing of your heart. All the while, you tried your best not to resent him for stopping you.

The next day was a Saturday. You slept in because your body needed it, after the stress of last night. When you woke up, Dean wasn’t beside you. His keys and the Impala were gone, but he’d left you a text: he’d gone to your uncle Bobby’s place.

And you saw that he’d taken the book as well. Predictable.

You felt bad for how you tried to go behind your husband’s back, but if you were honest with yourself, you were still upset at him for stopping you, even if you understood why he did it.

You sat on the edge of your bed. Not for the first time since you and Dean were separated by miles of roads and his family’s mission to find the thing that killed his mother, you found yourself praying.

Please, God…or if there’s even anyone up there…please help me.

For a while, there was silence in the room.

But even if your eyes were open, you wouldn’t have seen the being that was standing in front of you. He stared down at you with a tilted head, finding himself a bit too curious. Hesitantly, he reached his hand out and touched your forehead.

You didn’t completely register the feeling that washed over you. It was like the tingling of a breeze across your skin. You took it for a chill in the room as you shivered a little. Then you opened your eyes, and resigned yourself to starting your day.

Castiel left the room with but a thought and a flutter of wings.

He knew he was only supposed to observe Michael’s vessel, not his soulmate. And yet, with one touch, he had sensed the rare genetic defect your doctor had missed.

Your mother had unknowingly suffered the condition as well. Your father never told you this, but she’d nearly lost you in the early stages of her pregnancy. It had been a miracle that you were born at all.

Castiel fixed the problem.

He knew what Uriel, or even Naomi would say. Perhaps they didn’t need to know, in this case. They were both far too busy for worldly trifles. Even so, Castiel knew he wasn’t authorized to heal you.

Still, it felt…right. And so, he did it.

It confused him.

…Maybe it isn’t something to be closely examined, he thought.

With that agreement within himself, he resolved to leave that decision behind him, and continue watching from afar. Those were his orders, after all.

Visiting Bobby Singer wasn’t as productive as Dean wanted it to be. The men had been arguing in Bobby’s living room for close to an hour.

Dean was upset with him for translating that goddamn spell for you, but the old man didn’t have a good answer. They both knew you were like a daughter to him.

“She came in hot, all damn stubborn and sass up to here,” Bobby said, holding a hand up to his forehead. “But you try sayin’ no when the waterworks starts.”

…Dean could concede that, but he rubbed his face in frustration.

“What do I do here, Bobby?” he asked, holding up the spell book in question. Apparently, it was more like a journal; it was rumored to have belonged to a sixteenth-century witch named Rowena. “I don’t trust this thing. Deep in my gut, I know it.”

Bobby considered him for a moment. In fact, he gave Dean a long-suffering look that made him really see Bobby’s age.

“Then trust your gut, son,” was all he said.

Dean returned home with a peace offering: some apple crumble pie. You were lying on the sofa watching mindless TV, still in your pajamas. Your mental walls were down, so Dean could both see and feel how miserable you were.

He took out the pie from the small bag of groceries he carried and held it up so you could see.

“I come bearing sugar,” he said. He also set down a bottle of wine on the dining table. You were focused on the pie, however.

“Who’s that for, me or you?” you dryly remarked.

“I got ice cream too,” he said, shaking the grocery bag.

You smiled a little, but he could feel through the bond that you were still sour at him. He sighed and went over to you. He set down the bribery on the coffee table and settled a hand on your pajama-clad thigh.

“Sweetheart, I am sorry.”

Sighing, you turned off the TV and sat up against the other end of the couch. You eyed him with a frown.

“You’re not sorry about chucking the spell,” you accused. Or for stealing the book you’d eventually have to bring back to work, lest your boss notice something amiss in the inventory.

“No, I’m not,” said Dean. “It was dangerous. I felt it. And that gut feeling? That’s what’s saved me more times than I can damn count.”

You were still upset, you couldn’t deny…but you understood his point. When he beckoned you over, you were more willing to go to him. After you scooted closer, he wrapped an arm around your waist and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Look, I’ll go to whatever doctors you want, try whatever treatments, however long it takes,” he said.

You sighed, but you eventually agreed with a teary nod. “Okay. Thank you.”

Even with that, Dean wasn’t convinced that he was getting through to you. He was picking up on a thread of hopelessness that you were trying to hide.

He’d just have to change that.

“But…” He earned your attention by squeezing your side. His lips formed a grin. “I still think we can do this the old-fashioned way.”

He slowly rubbed a hand up and down your back. With the other hand, he reached for your face, tracing your lower lip with his thumb. You smiled slightly at his teasing. Part of you wanted to heed the suggestion in his eyes, and the familiar warmth and promise in his touch. The other, more vulnerable part of you hesitated.

When you caught sight of something over his shoulder, you had to smile a little more.

“I see you got a bottle of Merlot,” you said. A notable upgrade from beer. You couldn’t remember the last time Dean had willingly bought some “bougie-ass” wine.

“A little pie, a little booze…” you noted.

Dean grinned. “I’m thinking we have a not-so-quiet night in.”

Your brows rose, and you hummed in surprise. “Is my husband trying to butter me up?”

“Nah,” he said, tilting your face back up to his. “Your husband’s trying to seduce you.”

You giggled at that…at first. But it seemed he was serious.

You accepted his passionate kiss. Closing your eyes, you reached blindly for his shirt and held on while his lips moved ardently against yours. Through the bond, you felt his desire like it was your own.

In the five years you’d been married, and the years you were together even before, there were often moments where it was impossible to discern what was him and what was you.

The beautiful thing about it was, that part didn’t matter too much. Especially not when you and Dean became a tangle of limbs, lips, and tongue on the couch. He ridded you of your threadbare pajamas, and you helped him halfway out of his shirt and jeans before he yanked the rest of it off himself.

And all while he drew lusty moans and sighs and pleasure from your body in the comfort of your living room, the ice cream slowly melted in its container on the coffee table—completely forgotten, along with the pie.

That night, you lied awake in his arms for a while. Round one on the couch had migrated to rounds two and three in the bedroom, and you were almost too exhausted to sleep.

It had been months since you and Dean had sex without thinking of calendars and timing, optimal positions and ovulation.

This felt right, you thought, as you stroked his arm that was wrapped around your waist. Even though your skin was sticking to his under the sheets and your frizzy hair was probably tickling his neck, he didn’t seem to mind.

Dean? you tried through the bond, seeing if he was awake. He felt like he was still in-between wakefulness and sleep. At your prodding though, he slipped back into the former.

“Hmm?” he replied. You let out a sigh in the dark.

“I’m sorry I kind of tried to take matters into my own hands, with the spell.”

He hmphed in response. “Kinda?”

Your lips twitched upwards.

“This is a ‘together’ thing,” you said. “I made it all about me.”

Dean shook his head at that. He responded through the bond. No, you didn’t.

I did, you insisted. You were right to stop me. I didn’t care about the consequences…but that’s not fair to you. To either of us.

He took that in with a deep sigh of his own.

“It’s okay. We want the same thing,” he said. “And we’ll get there, baby. Don’t you worry.”

“What makes you so sure?” you asked.

“…I don’t know. I just am.”

You closed your eyes, and once again, you tried to believe him. You let his heartbeat and the sound of his steady breathing lull you to sleep.

Nine weeks later…

You were alone in the bathroom at seven in the morning. After almost a month late on your period, you were also staring at two positive lines on your last pregnancy test.

Ho…ly…shit.

Dean was already at work. This wasn’t something you wanted to tell him over the phone, however.

How the hell am I supposed to keep this from him all day? you thought.

But then again, maybe this was a good thing. You had time to make sure.

So you called out of work for a personal day, and you immediately called your doctor on your way out to the closest pharmacy. You were going to need a few more tests.

When Dean eventually got home that evening, there were two pizzas waiting for him. The smell was already making his mouth water. He peeked under the hood of each box and rubbed his hands together.

“Ooh, awesome.” Pepperoni, sausage, and double cheese. His favorite.

You appeared then from the kitchen with a strange smile on your face.

“Hey!” you chirped, but you seemed a bit distracted as you pulled out a sheet pan of cookies from the oven. You nearly dropped them when the corner of the pan banged against the oven.

Something was off with you. Dean knew it intuitively. He went over and tried to steady you with a hand on the small of your back. He could see that you were frazzled, but he realized, with a frown, that you had your walls up again. He couldn’t pick up on what you were thinking.

“You okay?” he asked. “What’s going on?”

“Uh…well, something,” you nodded and wiped your hands after you peeled the oven mitts off. “And I need to tell you about it before I bake everything in the house, including the expired bran muffins.”

Dean was growing more concerned by the moment. He knew for a fact he’d hidden that bran muffin mix deep in the pantry, so you wouldn’t force him to eat a “healthy dessert.”

“Okay, what?” he asked.

You paused, steeling yourself with a breath.

You then took his hand and led him to the bedroom, into the adjoining bathroom. Across the entire counter were no less than seven pregnancy tests.

All positive.

Dean’s breath caught in his lungs. Slowly he turned back to you with his widened eyes.

“Surprise?” you smiled, a little nervously.

Dean grasped the counter and had to sit down hard on the closed toilet seat.

“Yeah, I did that too,” you said. You couldn’t help but giggle as you caressed his face. He grabbed your hip, both to bring you closer and for added stability. You two had been trying to make this happen for over a year, but the gravity of this being real was finally hitting him.

He stared up at your face with a growing smile. “This is happening.”

You nodded, smiling through your burgeoning tears.

“Yeah. It is,” you replied. “Dean, you’re gonna be a dad.”

That realization had him nodding, swallowing hard and blinking past a sting in his eyes.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, bringing you in between his knees. You threaded your fingers through his hair, and his head came to rest against your stomach. He pressed a kiss there, over your shirt.

After a moment to gather himself, he rocked back onto his feet. Then he enveloped you in a secure and warm embrace. He kissed the side of your head, and you felt his smile there.

“We did it, baby,” he said.

“And that was the easy part,” you quipped, making him laugh. Yet the holy shit of it all hit him in a new wave—one you felt through the bond. You had to take a deep breath to steady yourself as well.

“Oh my God, this is happening,” he repeated.

You uttered a tearful laugh. “Uh, yeah, Dean.”

He was still smiling, but it started to dim a little.

“We’re ready, right?” he asked.

You chuckled, wiping at your eyes. “We better be.”

Dean nodded and pulled back enough to see your face. You met his gaze. Maybe you’d just had more time than him to process it all, but you finally felt a sense of peace.

“Together, right?” he said.

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Together.”

Dean let out a deep breath. “Shit, I gotta tell Sam.”

Your smile brightened and you squeezed his arms.

“Let’s call him!" you said. "Hopefully Eileen’s there too.”

The two had moved in together a couple of years ago, after Eileen officially retired from hunting. But she often had long shifts at her job, just like Sam did at the law firm he started working for after he graduated from law school, near the top of his class.

While you and Dean went into the bedroom to call Sam together, an angel watched from a distance, unseen by human eyes.

He found himself smiling.

AN: Ahh I'm soft. 🥰 I hope you all enjoy this as much as I had fun diving back into Never Say Goodbye.

And I won't say that I'll never come back to it in the future...for obvious reasons. 😉

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Series List

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Series + Dean Tag List (Part 1):

I did my best to get everyone who was tagged in the original run of the series first, then my normal Dean tag list.

@curlycarley @chubby-teddybear @jamerlynn @iprobablyshipit91 @globetrotter28 @deamus-liv @deans-spinster-witch @my-proof-is-you @vera0124 @deans-baby-momma @lacilou @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @theonlymaninthesky @spnexploration @itzabbyxx @cevans-winchester @imagineteller1

@icequeen1371 @tiredqueen73 @bitchwitch1981 @abbigaleelizabeth @ohgodthebogisback @where-the-river-bends @loveprof6 @shadowcrowsworld @thespnlover @this-is-me19 @stevenknightmarc @leigh70 @syrma-sensei @brain-has-left

@hobby27 @ashbatz @saranghaey @jori21 @lillyrob @adoringanakin @agirlwithdemonblood @mimaria420 @nephil-with-a-gun @writethrough @iamsapphine @definitelymentallyderanged @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer

#the old-fashioned way #bonus tracks #never say goodbye #bonus track 4 #spn #supernatural #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester x soulmate!reader #soulmate au #soulmates #castiel #jody mills #bobby singer #zepskies writes

321 notes · View notes

luceracastro · 2 months

Text

Teacher's Pet

Professor!Esteban Kukurickza x reader

Summary: After a few months of starting your literature course you seem to find it harder with time to ignore your professor, little did you know you were driving him crazy as well.

Warnings: teacher/student relationship! Age gap (the reader is in their early 20s and Esteban is mid/late 30s). There is not much warning in this part but it will change within the next few (also fyi this fic will be about 15 to 20 parts long and in Spanglish)

Masterlist

Ever since you could remember you dreamt of writing your own books, your mom and dad remember you making your own little stories as a kid with paper, crayons, and a pencil, your dad stapling the pages together for you

then you used notebooks and wrote little stories or poems of your own, you grew a great obsession with books and literature, so it made sense when it was your major and you got into one of the best schools in Spain to study.

Now living alone, working a part-time job to pay for necessities and other important bills except rent and school since your dad agreed to pay for it as long as you promised to make something out of yourself you were set, One small issue was that you had a Professor who was way too hot for his own good

lectures were hard sometimes, he was a good educator no doubt about that but he seemed to call on you for everything, of course your hand was the first up at times but even when it wasn't he would call on you saying he trusts that you understood the lecture and topic and can answer his questions, and you did, perfectly

he would flaunt your perfect work to the class, using you and your assignments as a example to the rest of the class, he praised you too that it messed with your head now, you began to think he probably knew how much you really liked him.

you had just sat through one of those painfully hard lectures after he asked countless questions which you mostly answered and now the class was working on the research paper he had assigned for the remaining time of class.

"Senorita T/n" he called and you looked up he motioned you over with a nod and your breath caught in your throat but you regained your posture and got up walking to his desk "Sólo quería decirle que hizo un excelente trabajo en este papel, eres un alumna muy dedicada y hasta puedo decir mi favorita" he chuckled and you smiled but the warm feeling inside of you was getting hard to ignore with the closer you are to him, especially with the countless praises he gives you.

"Gracias Profe que amable" you said, he smiled up at you a soft small smile but his eyes starring into your soul practically made your skin crawl, in a good way, "Bueno, te dejo que sigues trabajando" he said and you nodded "Muchas gracias Profe" you once again thanked him as he nodded and you walked back to your seat

the class had ended but before you could even walk out the door "Senorita T/n" he called out for you and you turned around "Mande?" you walked over to his desk as he looked over some papers "Me puedes hacer un favor?" he asked and you nodded adjusting the strap of your bag

"Yo tengo mucho trabajo que hacer entonces quiero saber si puedes ayudar a tu Compañera Adelia con un trabajo que tiene que hacer?" he asked and you nodded "Si, si claro con gusto" you said a small smile on your lips which he admired very much "Gracias de verdad, que amable eres me ayudas mucho" he said and your smile grew at his words

"Entonces le digo que te mande un correo electronico y de ahi empiezan a trabajar juntas, gracias otra vez" he said and you nodded "No problema Profe, que tenga buen dia" you said "Tu tambien querida," querida, that name was rare but when he did say it your legs turned to jelly

you left the class and made your way back home, the small flat you lived in was comfy and cozy, at first it may seem a bit too small but it was suffice for the time being, and with small trinkets and decor you'd get from small shops and thrift stores you made it your own little cozy home

you put your bag and books down, and your keys were thrown on the kitchen counter as you opened the fridge, leftover dinner from the night before it was. As you ate you looked through your computer for any emails or whatnot, and low and behold Adelia had emailed you

you had answered and through a couple exchange emails agreed to meet at a nearby coffee shop to work on her assignment, you closed your computer and got up to go and do some house chores, clean up, and do some laundry that you had put off for long enough.

the paper assigned from class today was now your current task late at night, you were tired of course but to not finish the paper would make you stress to the point where you wouldn't rest well so you decided to stay up and work on it

"Todavia despierta?" your eyes widened at the small chat from your Professor, when working on assignments you go on a website where teacher and students are signed on and anyone can see if you're active or not, turns out he's grading some work.

"Si, haciendo unos trabajos :)" you sent back and bit the inside of your cheek afraid of what he might say, was the chat too un professional for a student to send to a professor? but all doubts went away when he sent another chat

"Pobre, descansa mejor" he sent back then a little smiley face making you smile and giggle to yourself "Claro que si, nomas quiero terminar el papel de hoy y luego me voy a dormir" you sent back "Bueno Querida, tenga buen noche y por favor descansa" he sent back and you felt your belly warm up and lips curl into a big smile your cheeks began to hurt

"Gracias profe, que tenga buen noche tambien" was all you sent back before going back to work on your assignment, after you had finished the paper you put all your school belongings away in your bag and then went to get ready for bed. Esteban had always noticed his special student, you were a hardworking and dedicated student and always worked hard when it came to your school

her remembers seeing you working at one of the local coffee shops being kind to customers and being quick on your feet to attend them, you were also kind to your classmates helping out in class or outside of class, other teachers spoke highly of you and he added to it

you were also very well carried he noticed, dressed in nice clothing, always presentable, beautiful dare he say and you had a way about yourself which made you likable and irresistible if that was even a sufficient word, you were perfect and he firmly believed that.

the next day in class you had sat down in your usual seat, and like the same old routine for Esteban he stole glances when you weren't looking, when he realized you'd seen him he'd play it off with a kind smile

but the skirt you wore was pretty much a distraction, he couldn't focus but he wasn't complaining "Profe, me ayudas?" a student of his was standing beside his desk snapping him out of his trance as he nodded "Si claro"

after class had ended he stopped you again "Entonces no duermes mucho?" he smiled and you smiled as well "trato," you chuckled as he nodded "Prometame algo, que si vas a descansar, eres mi alumna favorita y no quiero que estas cansada por mi culpa" you shook your head "No, no de verdad no te precupes estoy bien ni tengo sueno" you said

he nodded "Pero una cosa, yo siempre me voy a precupar por mi alumna favorita" he said and you let out a sigh the nerves eating away at your belly "gracias profe, te lo agradezco" you smiled kindly making him return one back "Otra cosa, cuando estamos solos me puedes llamar por mi nombre," he said and you nodded

"Bueno profe, Esteban" you corrected yourself with a small smile making him nod "Bueno linda, tenga buen dia" linda, that was a new one, "Tenga buen dia" you gave him a kind smile and nod before leaving his class

this man would be the end of you.

A/N: Okay so this is the first part, not too exciting but by the next part it will be longer and more interesting as it goes on but Likes, comments, and reblogs are very much appreciated but no pressure my loves as long as you all enjoy and if you would like to be tagged let me know <333

Honorary tag since this lovely girl is the reason I even started this fic (also my love for Esteban) @madame-fear Love you hope you enjoy love!!!!!

#esteban kukuriczka #lsdln cast #fanfic #enzo vogrincic #francisco romero #matias recalt

175 notes · View notes