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welikeimagines-andfandoms · 6 months ago

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Accidental Confession- Thorin x Reader

Summary: Thorin overhears you confess your feelings about him to his nephews

Word count: 1, 478

Mixing yourself, two dwarf princes and a full barrel of mead was bound to create some chaos. Honestly after an hour of drinking with them you’re surprised that the worst thing you’d done was a failed handstand and a terrible improvised song. Unfortunately however things were going too smooth for too long, and your luck of only slightly embarrassing yourself was running out.

You and the princes were sat in the woods outside of Erebor, all three of you needing an escape from castle that could sometimes feel suffocating. Though you were only visiting your friends, you could tell they needed a break from their uncle, especially Fili as he was next in line and his list of duties were piling up every day. Needing the biggest break out of all three of you, it was no wonder that the embarrassing question came from him.

“Y/N, I have a question.” The blonde dwarf asked, sat upon a rock with a cheeky smile on his face.

“Well fortunately for you, Fili dear, I might just have the answer.” You reply with a cheeky smile of your own as Kili refills your cup.

“Why do you dislike our uncle?” Came Filis oddly sobering question.

This question caused even Kilis face to become serious as both princes stared at you. Although their faces were filled with worry, you couldn’t help the girlish grin that came to your face. At seeing your grin, both princes grew matching grins of their own.

“I don’t dislike your uncle.” You answer, trying hard and failing to hide your smirk.

“Oh really? When he speaks you seem to always walk away and just last night he asked you to dance and you denied him.” Kili now interrogates, a quizzical smile growing on his face.

“It’s not because I don’t like him.” You try to defend yourself sheepishly.

“Is it because you do like him then?” Fili asked you smirking.

“No! Maybe… Look it’s not fair! When he talks that dwarf language…”

“Khuzdul.” Kili quickly corrects.

“Yeh! It’s just really hot… I know he’s your uncle but it’s so hot! And and! The dancing! If I dance with your uncle my tits would be in his face! Which if that happened I’d get so turned on I’d die.” You confessed to your friends, babbling foolishly.

Fili and Kili exchange a look at hearing your confession, before promptly bursting out in laughter. Their laughter so loud that you’re sure people in Erebor could hear it.

“It’s not funny!” You half-laugh and half-shout, trying hard to stay serious and defend yourself, but unfortunately failing.

It wasn’t long until you too joined their laughter, all three of your laughs sounding loudly through the forest.

If any of you had been sober, you might have realised that such laughter had drawn the king under the mountain himself to find your little hiding spot. Seeing you all so intoxicated and in the forest he had half a mind to storm over and tell you all off, but was abruptly stopped at the conversation at hand.

“You should tell uncle how you feel!” Kili announced excitedly.

“No!” You shout.

“Why not?!” Both of your friends seemed to yell in unison.

“Oh yeh what would I say? ‘Hey Thorin, I know you’re the super duper important and serious king, but I think your voice is really sexy and the reason I don’t dance with you is because if your face was in my tits I’d get so horny I’d die! Also you’re really sweet to me and I’d like to hold your hand and bake you nice things and maybe kiss you a little’…” Your confession suddenly turning more sweet and serious.

Realising just how you felt about Thorin, your head fell as you played with your fingers, suddenly feeling very vulnerable and embarrassed.

“Maybe we should head back. It’s getting cold and I think it’s time we all went to bed. We’ll get you something nice to eat and some nice warm furs.” Fili suggests as he takes your hand, knowing your confession was a lot more than just a silly girl being attracted to their uncle.

As both boys held your hand to help you walk, Thorin hid himself behind a tree, not wanting to be noticed. Though he hid, he couldn’t help but stare at you as you left with his nephews. Knowing his feelings were reciprocated suddenly filled him with both relief and fear.

*****

You were surprised to wake up the next morning with only a mild hangover after your night of drinking with your friends. Getting dressed you decided it was a day for comfortable clothes, topped with a big warm cardigan knitted for you by Ori.

As you went to leave your room in search of food you literally ran into the last person you expected.

“Oh! Hello Thorin.” You sheepishly greeted him, slightly stepping back into your room.

“Good morning, y/n. How did you sleep?”

“Fine, thank you. Is there something I can help you with, Thorin?” You nervously ask him, trying hard to keep eye contact with him as you wrap the cardigan around yourself.

“Yes, um- may- may I come in? I’d like to speak with you in private.” He asked as his voice suddenly became more serious.

“Ye-yes, sorry, um, come in.” You anxiously step aside and quickly pull out a chair from your vanity for him to sit on while you sit on the edge of your bed.

Thorin manoeuvres the chair to sit directly in front of you, your knees barely grazing each other. Looking from your hands, to your barely touching knees and into his beautiful blue eyes, your gaze quickly falls back to your hands.

“I-I need to speak with you about last night.” Thorin stutters out.

Looking back into his eyes, you meet him with a quizzical look. The king under the mountain is never nervous and you had not spoken with him at all last night.

“I-I heard what you said to Kili and Fili last night.” He confesses.

Suddenly your eyes go wide as realisation hits you. At hearing this, your blood turns cold, both fear and embarrassment filling both your body and your face.

“Oh no.” You quietly mumble as you anxiously hide your face in your hands.

You were mortified and scrabbling your brain to think of anything to get him away, so you could wallow in shame and embarrassment alone. However before you could think of the words to save you, you felt large warm hands around yours, as Thorin pulled them away from your face.

“Please do not hide from me.” He gently soothes you, as his thumb runs across your fingers.

Your head shoots up at his comforting touch and words. Your eyes filled with panic, dart between your now joined hands and his kind eyes. Trying to look for pity in them but you did not find it.

“This was not how I had imagined telling you this but I suppose after last night I could not ignore my feelings anymore. Y/N, I care for you so deeply and think you are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen in my many years. I feared you would not feel the same as I am not of the race of man and am quite older than you, but from what I heard last night I’m guessing the feeling is some what mutual.” He smiles as he gazes lovingly into your eyes.

You were stuck, too many emotions holding you in place. Confusion, fear, embarrassment and maybe a little bit of love forcing you still and your eyes to never leave Thorins.

“Amrâlimê?” Thorin speaks, worry now in his eyes as he places his large warm hand on your cheek.

You can’t help but close your eyes and hum at the feel of his skin finally against yours. Placing your hand over his, you rub your face further into his hand.

“I suppose you were right about your reaction to me speaking in my native tongue.” Thorin teases you as his face comes closer to yours.

Your eyes fling open as you realise he truly did hear everything you said. Letting out a defiant chuckle, you decide to show him just how much you meant the words you said last night. Grabbing a hold of his coat with both hands, you forcefully pull him into you, as you press your lips passionately against his own.

Thorin moaned into your mouth as your hands desperately pulled at his hair and his squeezed at your hips. You couldn’t get enough of each others touch as you both pulled the other closer.

Finally breaking away, your foreheads rested against each other as you stared into each others eyes.

“Maybe we should try the dancing next.” Thorin teased you with a smirk and a wink.

#Thorin #Thorin x reader #Thorin Oakenshield #Thorin Oakenshield x reader #Thorin imagine #Thorin Oakenshield imagine #the hobbit #the hobbit imagine

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flowercrowngods · 10 months ago

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who did this to you. part 3

🤍🌷 read part 1 here | read part 2 here pre-s4, steve whump, protective (but scared) eddie. now with robin!

The number rings in his head, echoing off the inside of his skull and sinking lower and lower until his heart strings join the symphony that leaves him shaking as the memory of Harrington’s slurred voice is drowned out by the dial tone that feels harrowingly like a flatline right now.

Said I’ll go blind. Or deaf. Or just… die.

Eddie doesn’t really feel like his body belongs to him anymore, or like there’s anything left inside him other than panic and fear and that stupid, stupid shaking that he can’t suppress even as he bites his knuckles. Hard.

The pain helps a little not to startle too much when the dial tone stops and a female voice begins speaking to him. Still he almost drops the phone, cursing under his breath as he pulls his hair to collect himself and get his voice to work.

“H— Hi, hello, Mrs Buckley? This is, uh. I. I’m. A friend of Robin’s, could you, uh—“

“Oh, of course, dear,” the woman says, and Eddie feels his eyes beginning to prick with how nice she sounds even through the phone.

Does she know Steve, too? Would she worry if she knew? Would she curse Eddie for not taking him to the hospital right away? Would she blame him if anything happened?

“I’m sorry? What did you say your name was?” she asks, repeating herself by the sound of it.

He blanks, for a whole five seconds, before he spots a note stuck to the fridge saying Don’t forget to eat, Eddie :-)

“Eddie,” he croaks. “Uh, Eddie Munson.”

“Alright, Eddie Munson, I’ll see if I can grab Robin for you. You have a good day, dear, yes?”

No. “Thanks.”

The hand clenched in his hair pulls tighter and tighter until the tears fall and he can pretend it’s from pain and not from— whatever the fuck is happening.

He waits, phone pressed to his ear with a kind of desperation he’s never really felt, and never wants to feel again. He doesn’t even know what to tell Robin; what to say. It’s not like they ever hang out or have anything to say to each other, so why would she—

“Munson?” Robin’s voice appears on the other end, a little too loud for Eddie’s certain state, and he does drop the phone this time, scrambling to catch it and only making the situation worse as it dangles by his knees.

He drops to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest and reaching for the phone again.

“Hi.”

“What do you want? How’d you even get this number? I swear, if you—“

“It’s Blue. I mean, Steve. Harrington.”

That shuts her right up, and Eddie clenches his eyes shut for a moment, hoping to keep the tremor out of his voice if only he takes a moment to breathe.

The moment stretches. And Robin’s voice is wary and quiet when she speaks again.

“What about Steve.”

Eddie rubs his face, leaving more dirt and grime to fill the tear tracks, and clenches his fist before his mouth.

“Eddie,” Robin demands, dangerous now. Nothing left of the rambling, bubbling mess he knows her to be on the school hallways. “What. About. Steve.”

“He… He’s hurt.”

There’s a bit of a commotion on the other end, before Robin declares, “I’m coming over. You tell me everything.”

“You— I mean, he’s in the hospital with my uncle, so—“

“I am. Coming. Over,” she says, enunciating every word as though she were making a threat. Maybe she is. But the certainty in her voice helps a little, anchors him the same way that Wayne’s calmness did. “And you tell me everything.”

Eddie finds himself nodding along, knowing intuitively that there is nothing that could stop her now. Knowing that he doesn’t want to stop her.

“‘Kay.” It’s a pathetic little sound, all choked up and tiny. She doesn’t comment on it.

One second he hears her determined exhale, the next she’s hung up on him and Eddie is greeted by the flatline again. He lets out a shuddering breath and leans his head back against the wall.

Breathing is hard again, but it’s all he has to do now, all that’s left to do, so he focuses. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold. His lungs are burning and there’s something wrong about the way he pulls in air and keeps it there, desperately latching onto it until the very last second, his exhales more of a gasping cough than calm and controlled.

It takes a while. Longer than it should. But with Harrington’s blood still on his hands, with his heartbeat in his ears so loud he can’t even hear the words Wayne used to say about breathing in through the mouth or the nose or… or something, he—

He’s fine. He’s home. Wayne’s got Blue, and Buckley is on her way, and… He’s fine.

People don’t just die.

They don’t.

He’s fine.

Eventually, Eddie manages to breathe steadily, the air no longer shuddering and his hands no longer shaking. It’s stupid, really, being so worked up over someone he doesn’t even really know. Sure, everyone knows Steve fucking Harrington, and everyone sees Steve fucking Harrington — whether they want it or not. He has a way of drawing eyes toward him even if all he does is walk the halls with his dorky smile and that stupidly charming swagger he’s got going on. Always matching his shoes to his outfit.

Eddie can relate.

Always reaching out to touch the person he’s talking to; clapping their back or shoulder, lightly shoving them in jest, ruffling their hair or chasing them through the halls, moving and holding himself like teenage angst can’t reach him. Like he belongs wherever he goes. Like he’s so, so comfortable in his own skin. Like the clothes he wears aren’t armour but just a part of him; a means of self-expression.

Again, Eddie can relate. He can relate to all of this.

It’s almost like the two of them aren’t so different after all. Just going about it differently.

And now he’s… Bleeding. Slurring his speech. Wheezing his breath. And Eddie feels protective. Eddie feels responsible. Like he should be there, like he should get to know more about him. About Steve. About Blue.

But he can’t. And he won’t. So he gets up with a groan that expresses his frustration and the need to make a sound, to fight the oppressive silence that only encourages his thoughts to run in obsessive little circles, and he hangs up the phone that’s been dangling beside him all this time.

He needs a smoke.

He needs a smoke and a blunt and a drink and for this day to be over and for time to revert and to leave him out of whatever business he stumbled into by opening the door to the boathouse and, apparently, Steve Harrington’s life.

But unfortunately, the universe doesn’t seem to care about what he needs, because just as he steps outside and goes to light his cig, he catches sight of a harried looking Robin Buckley, standing on the pedals of her bike as she kicks them, her hair blowing in the wind to reveal a frown between her brows. A wave of unease overcomes Eddie, an unease he can’t really place. Maybe it’s the set of her jaw, or the tension in her shoulders, or maybe it’s the worry and anger she exudes.

It never occurred to him before that Robin Buckley might not be a person you’d want to set off. And not because of her uncontrollable rambles.

“Munson!” she calls over, carelessly dropping her bike in the driveway and stalking toward him.

Almost as if summoning a shield, Eddie does light the cigarette. Pretends like the smoke can protect him.

She doesn’t stop at the foot of the steps, though, climbs them in two leaps and gets all up in his space with that unwavering look of determination — so unwavering, in fact, that it almost looks like wrath. Cold. Eddie wants to shrink away from it, not at all daring to wonder what could make her look like that upon hearing that Steve’s hurt.

I don’t wanna die, Munson. I never… I didn’t. With the monsters or the torture.

But those are the words of a semi-conscious teenage boy beat to a pulp, they can’t— There’s no way. Eddie misheard him, or Steve was talking about some kind of inside joke, using the wrong terminology with the wrong guy. It happens. It happens when you’re out of it, really! The shit he’s said when he was shot up, canned up, all strung out and high as a kite… He’d be talking of monsters, too, and mean some benign shit.

But the way Harrington looked, none of that was benign. The bruising all over his face, the blood still dripping from the wound by his temple or his nose, the way he held himself, breath rattling in his lungs, or—

“Hey!” Buckley demands his attention, giving him a light shove; just enough to catch his attention, really, and just what he needed to snap out of it. Still the smoke hits his lungs wrong and he coughs up a lung, further cementing his role of the pathetic little guy today.

“Hey,” he says lamely, his voice still croaking as he crushes the half-smoked cigarette under his boot. “Sorry.” He doesn’t know for what. But it feels appropriate.

She shakes her head, rolling her eyes at him as she crosses her arms in front of her chest.

“Tell me,” she says at last, and even though there is a tremor in her voice, she sounds nothing short of demanding. “I want the whole story, and I want it now.”

And so he does. He tells her everything, bidding her inside because he needs the relative safety of the trailer even though the air in here is stuffy and still faintly smells blue. He pours them both some coffee and some tea, because asking what she wants doesn’t feel right in the middle of telling her how he found her supposed best friend beat to shit in the boathouse he went to to forget about the world for a while.

She stills as she listens to him, staring ahead into the middle distance somewhere beneath the floor and the walls, her hands wrapped around the steaming mug of coffee. Eddie stumbles over his words a lot, unsettled by her stillness, her lack of reaction. She doesn’t even react to his fuck-ups. People usually do.

He wants to ask. Where are you right now? What have you seen? What’s on your mind? What the fuck is happening?

But he doesn’t ask, instead he tells her more about Steve. About how he seemed to forget where he was. About the pain he was in. About the smiles nonetheless. The way he reassured Eddie.

That one finally gets a choked little huff from her, somewhere between a sob and a laugh.

“Yeah, that sounds like him alright. He’s such a dingus.”

There is so much affection in her voice as she says it that Eddie can’t help but smile into his mug.

“Dingus?” he asks, hoping for some lightness, hoping to keep it.

But the light fades, and her eyes get distant again. Eddie wants to kick himself.

“Just a stupid little nickname. An insult, really.”

“Oh.” He doesn’t know what to do with that. If he should ask more or if he should say that he has a feeling Steve might appreciate stupid little nicknames. Especially if they’re unique. Especially if they’re for him. But what right does he have to say that now? What knowledge does he have about Steve Harrington that Robin doesn’t?

So he bites his tongue and drinks his coffee, cursing the silence that falls over them as Robin mirrors him, albeit slow and stilted, like she doesn’t know what to do either. Or where to put her limbs.

“Wayne’s got him now. I took him here, after the boathouse, because I didn’t know what to do. He said he didn’t want the hospital, said there’s…” He trails off.

Robin looks at him, her eyes wary but alert. “Said there’s what?”

It’s stupid. Don’t say it.

“Eddie?”

With a sigh, he puts his mug on the counter and stuffs his hands into his pockets. “He said there’s monsters. In the hospital, I mean. He said that.”

Instead of scoffing or at least frowning, Robin clenches her jaw and nods imperceptibly, her eyes going distant again. Eddie blinks, the urge to just fucking ask overcoming him again, but with every passing second he realises that he doesn’t actually want to ask. He doesn’t want to know, let alone find out.

He just… He just wants to go to bed. Forget any of this ever happened. But he can’t do that, so he continues.

“Brought him here and Wayne took one look at him and convinced him he needed a doctor. And, Jesus H Christ, he was right. I’ve never… I mean, those things don’t happen,” he urges, balling his hands into fists even in the confined space of his pockets. “Right? I mean… Shit, man.” He bumps his shoe into the kitchen counter; gently, so as not to startle Buckley out of her fugue like state.

“You’d be surprised,” she rasps, staring into the middle distance again and slowly sinking to the floor. There is a tremor in her shoulders now, barely noticeable, but Eddie knows where to look. Without really thinking about it, he grabs two of his hoodies he’d haphazardly thrown over the kitchen chairs this morning while deciding on his outfit and realising that it was altogether too warm for long sleeves today. But now, right here in this kitchen, the air tinged with blue, they’re both freezing.

Because fear and worry will take all the warmth right from inside of you and leave you freezing even on the hottest day of the year.

She barely looks at him when he holds out his all-black Iron Maiden hoodie to her, freshly washed and all that, but she takes it nonetheless, immediately pulling it on. It’s way too large on her, her hands not showing through the sleeves, her balled fists safe and warm inside the fabric. It would make him smile if only it didn’t highlight her stillness, her faraway stare, and the years he has on her. She’s, what, two years younger than him? Three?

It seems surreal. Everything, everything does.

Robin Buckley in his home, sitting on his kitchen floor, swallowed by a hoodie that is a size too large even for him, but it was the last one they had in the store and he doesn’t mind oversized clothes, can just cut them shorter when the need arises or layer them or declare them comfort sweaters for when he wants to just have his hands not slip through the sleeves on some days. And now Robin is wearing his comfort hoodie because her best friend was bleeding in his car earlier and then on his couch and now in his uncle’s car, and they never even talk, but he knows that Robin’s favourite colour is blue, but not morning hour blue because that makes her sad; only deep, dark blues.

Her favourite colour. Her favourite person.

It’s so fucking surreal.

He drops down beside her, leaving enough space between them so neither of them feels caged, and mirrors her position: knees to his chest, chin on his forearms. Staring ahead.

And silence reigns.

“Your uncle,” she says at last, finally breaking the silence that’s been grating on Eddie’s nerves and looking at him, really looking as she rests her cheek on her forearms crossed over her knees. “Tell me about him.”

There is a gentleness to her voice now despite how hoarse it is. Maybe she’s just tired, too. And scared. At least the shivering has stopped.

Still Eddie frowns, confused as to why she should be breaking the silence to ask about Wayne when everything today has been about Harrington. About Steve. About deep and dark blues.

“Uncle Wayne?” he asks. “Why?”

“Because,” she begins, and sighs deeply, works to get the air back in her lungs. Eddie wants to reach out, but instead he just clenches his fingers a little deeper into the fabric of his hoodie. “My best friend is hurt very badly and the only person with him is your uncle, and I need to know that he’s in good hands. Or I swear to whatever god you may or may not believe in, and granted, it’s probably the latter, but still I swear I’ll give into my arsonist tendencies and burn down this city, starting with your trailer if you don’t tell me that your uncle is a good man who will do anything in his power to make sure that boy gets the help and care he needs. And deserves.”

Her jaw is set and her bottom lip trembles, but it doesn’t take away from the absolute sincerity in her threat.

“So, please,” she continues, her voice breaking just a little bit. “Tell me. Tell me about your uncle.”

Tell me about your favourite person.

Eddie swallows, and mirrors her position once more, so she can see his eyes and know he’s sincere. Because he’s learned something about eyes today, about how much in the world can change if only you have a pair of eyes to look into.

And he nods, looking for somewhere to start. “He’s the best man I know. He’s the best man you’ll ever meet.”

She clings to his eyes. Searches them for the truth, beseeching them not to lie. He lets her.

“Took me in when I was ten, because my dad’s a fuck-up and my mom’s a goner. Took me in again when I was twelve after I ran away. Makes me breakfast and I pretends the dinner I make him is more than edible.” He smiles a little, because how could he not? “He’s my uncle, but still he’s the best parent anyone could wish for. Writes those little notes that he sticks to the fridge, y’know, the one with the smiley face? Tells me to eat, because I forget sometimes. I tell him to drink water, because he forgets. First few years, he’d read to me. And the man’s a shit reader, has some kind of disability I think, and at some point I learned that he wasn’t reading at all. He was telling me stories all the time, conning me into thinking that the books were magic, and that every time I’d try to read the book for myself, the story would change.”

There’s a lump in his throat now, and his eyes sting again. But Robin doesn’t seem to fare any better than him if her wavering smile is any indication.

“There’s no one,” Eddie continues, “who will make you believe in magic quite like uncle Wayne. Or in good things. And d’you wanna know what he told Blue when he said he was scared of going to the hospital?”

Sniffling, Robin shakes her head.

“He said, Okay. Then we do it scared. And all of that after he just… with that patience he has, told him everything that was gonna happen. And that he’d be there with him through it all. That he knew the doc and wouldn’t let anyone else near him, and that there’s no need to be scared at all.”

He sighs, breathes, stills. Swallows, before looking back at Robin.

“So, if there’s one person who’ll make sure that boy gets the help and care he needs and deserves…”

“It’s uncle Wayne,” Robin finishes his sentence, her voice still hoarse, but Eddie likes to think it’s for a different reason now.

“It’s uncle Wayne,” Eddie says, nodding along as he does.

There is something like understanding in Robin’s eyes now, and Eddie hopes it’s enough. Enough to calm the spiking of her nerves, enough to settle the coil of freezing nausea that must reside in the pit of her stomach, enough to let the next breath she takes feel a little more like it’s supposed to be there.

He wants to say something more, wants to reach out and reassure her that everything will be okay, but he can’t know that. He doesn’t feel like it’s entirely true, let alone appropriate right now.

There’s something in Robin’s eyes, in the way she holds herself, like she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like she accepts his words at face value but doesn’t really believe them. Like she’ll only rest when she’s got her best friend back in her arms and hears the story — the whole story — from him.

And Eddie doesn’t fault her, because the thing is, he doesn’t know what happened. Steve said that Hagan came at him, but that’s really all he got out of him before he started talking about death and shit, and Eddie really didn’t want to ask any more questions then.

So they sit there for a while, the silence oppressive and unwelcome, clumsy and awkward; Robin’s mouth opening and closing a lot, like she wants to ask questions but doesn’t dare to ask them — and Eddie doesn’t know if he’s glad about it or not. Doesn’t know if he wants to hear the kind of questions asked with that kind of stare.

It is only after a long while, when Robin’s shoulders start shaking again and she buries deeper into the hoodie and her own spiralling thoughts, that Eddie breaks the silence again, replaying in his head the last moment between him and Steve.

“He’s not gonna break,” he tells her, aiming for gentle and reassuring.

What he doesn’t expect is the minute flinch, the jolt shooting through her body and the pained expression it leaves her with. What he doesn’t expect is what she says next.

“You know,” she begins, her voice as far away as her eyes, and it’s like she doesn’t even know she’s speaking. “Sometimes I wish he would.”

What?

Eddie blinks, swallowing hard.

“Just for, just for a break. Just so he can rest. Let the rest take over for a while.”

That… He doesn’t— What the hell does that even mean?

“Like maybe then the world would… snap back.” She snaps her fingers, just once. This time it’s Eddie who flinches. “And everything bad would disappear. But it won’t. And he won’t.” She swallows. Then quietly, almost inaudible, “He won’t break.”

And the way she says it… It was reassuring before. And now it feels like a burden. A curse.

Who the fuck are you, Steve Harrington? And you, Robin Buckley.

Eddie shudders, knowing he doesn’t want the answer to that anymore. He doesn’t want the questions either. So he buries his face in his hands, closes his eyes, and breathes. The adrenaline has worn off by now, the repeated panicking that added fuse to the fire has ceased now, leaving him worn out and strung out, tired and exhausted. He pulls up the hood, burrowing into the warmth.

And then he stills. His usually twitching, fumbling, fiddling body falling entirely still beside Buckley.

It’s like time stops for a while there, even though Eddie knows that it’s dragging ever on and on. He’s inclined to let it, though. He’s too tired, too exhausted to really care about what time may or may not be doing.

“Why’d you call me?”

It takes a while for Eddie to realise that Robin’s spoken again, asked him a question out loud, the cadence of it different to the endless circles of questions Eddie’s got stuck in his head since the early afternoon tinged in blue against crimson.

He lifts his head, tucking his hands underneath his chin, and looks over at Buckley. Her hair is dishevelled now, her mascara smudged and crusty. Her lipstick is almost all gone, with the way he sees her biting and chewing on her lips.

“I… It seemed like the right thing to do, y’know? He kept repeating your number. In the car, it was like… Sounds dramatic, but it was like his lifeline, almost. Repeated it so often it kinda got stuck.” He shrugs. “Seemed important, too.”

Robin frowns; a careful little thing. “How’d you know it was me?”

“Well, he just talked about you. Y’know. Tell me about your favourite person, I told him, because that’s the thing you gotta do to keep people, like, talking to you. Not shit about what day it is, or what. Just, y’know. Let them talk about things they like. Things they’ll wanna tell you about. ’N’ he talked about you.”

She’s quiet for a while, letting his words sink in. And Eddie wonders if she knew. That she’s his favourite person. If he ever told her. If maybe he took that from him now. It’s a stupid thing to worry about, really; the boy was bloodied and bruised on his couch just an hour ago, there are worse things at hand for Eddie to worry about. But now he wonders if he just spilled some sort of secret. Some sort of love confession.

“Did you, I mean… Are you guys, like, dating? Did I just steal his moment?”

Robin huffs, but it’s more like a smile that needs a little more space in the room, a little more air to really bloom. It’s fond. She shakes her head, her eyes far away again, but closer somehow.

“Nah,” she says, and the smile is in her voice, too. Eddie kind of likes her voice like that. “We’re platonic. Which is something I’d never thought I’d say. Not about Steve Harrington, y’know?”

And the way she drags out his name… Eddie can relate. Like it means something, but like what it means is nowhere close to reality. Nowhere close to what it really means. Nowhere close to Blue.

Robin sighs, the sound more gentle than it should be, and leans her head against the cabinet behind her. “We worked together over summer break. Scoops Ahoy.” Her voice does a funny thing, and her eyes glaze over as she pauses. Eddie waits, his lips tipped up into a little smile, too; to match hers.

“What, the ice cream parlour?”

Robin hums, her smile widening at what Eddie guesses must be memories of chaos and ridiculousness. “I wanted to hate him,” she continues. “But try as I might, he wouldn’t let me. Or, he did. He did let me. Just, it turns out, there’s no use hating Steve Harrington, not when he’s so… So endlessly genuine. There’s nothing to hate, y’know? And then he…”

She stops, her mouth clicking shut as her eyes tear up a little. The Starcourt fire. Eddie remembers the news, remembers the self-satisfied smirk when he’d heard about it, remembers sticking it to the Man and to capitalism and to the idea of malls over supporting your friendly neighbourhood businesses.

Guilt and shame overcome him as he realises that they must have been in there when it happened.

“He saved your life?”

Robin’s eyes snap toward him, wide and caught, and Eddie raises his hands in placation.

“In the fire? Were you there?”

“Y—yeah.” She swallows hard, avoiding his eyes. “The fire. He saved me. Yeah.”

Eddie nods, deciding to drop that topic right there; to lay it on the ground as gently as he can and cover it with bright red colours so he never steps on it ever again.

“He must be your favourite person, too, then, hm?” he steers the conversation back away into safer waters.

“He is,” she says, sure and genuine and true. “It’s just. I don’t think I’ve ever been anyone’s favourite. He has a lot of people who care about him, you know? A lot of people he cares about. Even more numbers memorised in that stupidly smart head of his.” She huffs again, burrowing deeper into Eddie’s hoodie, pulling the sleeves over her hands some more. “It’s stupid, to be so hung up on this. Is it stupid?”

“I don’t think it is,” Eddie says, scooting a little closer to Robin. “Like, I don’t even know that boy, right? But even I know that he’s got some ways to shift your focus or something. Give you a silver lining, or something to take the pain away even when he’s the one who… I don’t know, that’s probably stupid, too.”

“Nah,” Robin says, scooting closer to him, too, until their sides are pressed together and she can lay her head on his shoulder. “It’s not stupid. You’re right; that’s Steve for you. ’S just who he is.”

It is, isn’t it?

You’re so blue, Stevie.

She’ll say something corny when, when you ask her, jus’ to fuck with you. Sunset gold or rose, jus’ to mess with… But is blue.

Blue. ‘S nice.

Yeah. Yeah, he is.

Eddie lets his thoughts roam the endless possibilities and realities that is Steve Harrington, the depths he hides — or won’t hide, maybe, if you know how to ask. Where to look.

Maybe he’ll find out, one of these days. Not about the terrible things that leave him scared of the hospital, not about the horrible things that have him speaking of death and dying like he’s accepted them as a possibility a long time ago.

He swallows hard and shakes off these thoughts, because things like that just. They don’t happen. They don’t happen to blue-smiled boys who trust you to be kind even when they’re beaten straight to hell. And they sure as hell don’t happen when uncle Wayne’s around.

Nothing bad has ever happened when uncle Wayne was around.

And he wants to tell Robin, wants to make that promise. But part of him can’t bear the thought of being wrong. So he keeps his mouth shut and just sits with her, their heads as heavy as their hearts as they wait.

The sun is long gone when the phone above him rings again, spooking and startling them out of their timeless existence.

“Yeah?” he answers, his heart hammering in his chest. “Wayne?”

“Hey, Ed,” Wayne’s voice comes through the phone like a melody. Calm and steady. Robin is scooting closer, and Eddie shifts the phone to accommodate her so they can both listen. Somehow, they ended up holding hands — and holding on hard. “We’re coming home now.”

🤍🌷 tagging:

@theshippirate22 @mentallyundone @ledleaf @imfinereallyy @itsall-taken @simply-shin @romanticdestruction @temptingfatetakingnames @stevesbipanic @steddie-island @estrellami-1 @jackiemonroe5512 @emofratboy @writing-kiki @steviesummer @devondespresso @swimmingbirdrunningrock @dodger-chan @tellatoast @inkjette @weirdandabsurd42 @annabanannabeth @deany-baby @mc-i-r @mugloversonly @viridianphtalo @nightmareglitter @jamieweasley13 @copingmechanizm @marklee-blackmore @sirsnacksalot @justrandomfandomstm @hairdryerducks @silenzioperso @newtstabber @fantrash @zaddipax @cometsandstardust @rowanshadow26 @limpingpenguin @finntheehumaneater @extra-transitional (sorry if i missed anyone! lmk if you don't wanna be tagged for part 4 🫶)

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #who did this to you #something has Shifted in this part and i wanna do a literary/meta analysis of it but i dont wanna ruin the fun or be annoying but hhh #also sorry if you don't like this bc it's so different from the other two but the sudden adrenaline crash will do that to ya #we'll get Blue back soon don't you worry 🤍#also eddie's mind is running in circles and he doesn't have wayne to stop him this time sooo if this feels repetitive and redundant???#then let's pretend it should read that way actually (and also eddie is an obsessive little guy he'll ruminate forever if he doesn't have #an outlet sooo)#also rambling fumbly robin going deadly still over an injured steve is the hill i will die on actually like that just makes me feral #dio words

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nicka-nell · 3 months ago

Note

wow ok read the recent request and I gotta say that was pretty heavy. Can we have a similar request but with a light angst with the remaining characters ??? I like the previous request

Hi, of course! :)) I've had really little time lately but I hope you like it anyway. I would say that all three contain rather mild angst compared to the previous ones. So I hope you enjoy it more. 💚

Regretting their actions

Pairing: Kuroo x, Ushijima x, Sakusa x reader

Warning: angst to fluff

Part 1 | Part 2 (End)

Kuroo finally made it. He has a job he enjoys. A job that also pays well financially and provides stability.

However, this job also involves some overtime and company trips.

In the beginning, he tried to keep to the working hours as much as possible. After all, he didn’t want to neglect you. However, the overtime increased year by year.

You often tried to gently point out to him that he shouldn’t overwork himself, but most of the time, your remarks were met with anger and ended in an argument.

At some point, you stopped and tried to suppress his increasingly frequent absences. Even if it hurt you.

Sometimes you lie in bed, looking at the empty space next to you, before the screen of your phone lights up and the usual message from Kuroo appears. “Sorry, kitten, but I can’t make it home today. But I’ll be there tomorrow at the end of the day.”

A message that raises so many doubts in you. What if he’s not at work at all and is seeing another woman? You’ve hardly had any time together in the last few months. Just a good morning kiss before work... that was all.

Does he no longer loves you? Does he possibly have a girlfriend and is leading a double life? No, Kuroo wouldn’t do that.

You’ve already reminded Kuroo three times this week that it’s your niece’s birthday today and that she’s looking forward to finally seeing him again. Because your niece loves Kuroo. Your boyfriend kept telling you before work that he had the date in his calendar and that he would definitely be home in time for the two of you to go to your niece’s together. You believed him. After all, the date was important to you. But you soon realize that this was just another lie. An empty promise.

Because when you look at your watch, it’s ten minutes before departure... and Kuroo still hasn’t arrived. He didn’t even reply to your “I’m looking forward to this afternoon.” You wait another four minutes, but nothing happens. In the end, you take the train to your niece’s house. Alone, without Kuroo. Because he doesn’t answer your messages or your calls.

Your little niece is so sad when she opens the door and looks up at you, realizing that you have come alone. It’s not that she doesn’t like you, but her dear uncle Kuroo always does so much nonsense with her. What did she once said? The aunts and grannies are there to go shopping and with the uncles and grandpas you have fun. Not exactly nice, but whatever.

She looks at you with sad eyes. “Isn’t uncle Kuroo coming? Doesn’t uncle Kuroo like me anymore?” she asks tearfully as you try to calm her down somehow. It takes a long time for her to stop crying, and that on her birthday. And as if that wasn’t enough, you also get asked by your brother and your parents if everything is all right with you and your boyfriend. Whether you are still together at all. Because even at the last events, you were always there alone. When they passed by your home, only you were ever present.

“No, no, everything’s fine. Tetsu’s just really busy today,” you reply with a forced smile, even though you don’t know where you stand as a couple right now. Can you even call what the two of you have a relationship?

As you head home in the evening, the apartment is still empty, just as expected. You sigh as you put your bag down and go into the bathroom to get ready for bed. The apartment seems so bitter as you lie down under the cold sheets, but you don’t care. You don’t even look at your phone anymore, because you know that Kuroo hasn’t texted you anyway. Nor do you mind that the bed is empty. Because that has also become a habit by now. Just then, you realize that tears are suddenly running down your cheeks. Yet you don’t even bother to wipe them away because no one will see them anyway.

Kuroo curses as he looks at his watch. His day had been stressful. So stressful that he didn’t even have time to look at his phone or check the time. Only when it got darker outside did he realize that he had once again worked too long.

“Shit,” he curses again as he stands in front of the entrance door. Should he go back to get flowers for you? After all, he promised you he wouldn’t work so late. No, never mind. Staying away any longer will only upset you more.

“Hey kitten, I’m sorry I was gone so long again. I know I said that-” but when Kuroo enters the living room, the light is off. You’re not in the kitchen either. Have you gone to bed already? He walks quietly towards the bedroom, but his hand stops on the door handle when he hears you sniffle.

“Hey, baby, what’s wrong?” he asks, immediately moving past the bed to your side to kneel in front of it. Only now do you realize that Kuroo has returned home. You look at him almost empty-eyed. “Nothing...” you reply and want to turn away from him, but his hand holds onto your shoulder.

“Don’t say nothing when you’re obviously crying. Is it because I’m here so late again? I’m really sorry... I’ve completely lost track of time. I’m trying-”

“I suppose you’ve forgotten my niece’s birthday? She cried bitterly today... and not only that. I was asked today if we’re still together because you’ve never been to celebrations lately. And honestly? I don’t even know myself...” You say in frustration and watch Kuroo’s eyes suddenly widen.

Today was your niece’s birthday... You had told him several times during the week and yet he had forgotten. Kuroo doesn’t even know how to answer you. There is no answer that can please you. Because Kuroo has completely fucked up. He opens his mouth to say something, then closes it again.

“Maybe we should really break-”

“No, no don’t say that. I know I fucked up. I know I promised you I’d work less overtime and be there for you more often. I know I didn’t stick to any of that. But please. I can change.” His answer interrupts yours, his voice soft and yet so panicked as he looks at you pleadingly. But you can’t help but laugh in frustration. “I’ve already asked my brother... I can stay with him for a while.”

You see the fear in his face as he tries to struggle for words. His shoulders begin to shake before he opens his mouth. Kuroo has no arguments to defend himself. In the end, he just failed. Made you sad. Neglected you. It had to get that far before he finally understood that. But when he looks at your sad face, he knows that he has no right to stop you.

“Yeah... if that’s what you want... I don’t want to stop you... make you any more miserable.” He replies dejectedly before squeezing your shoulder a little tighter to stand up to leave you alone in the bedroom. To give you the tranquility that you would prefer over his presence. But his legs won’t let him go any further as he stops in front of the door, just a step away from the hallway.

Instead of leaving the room, he turns in your direction, switches on the big light and goes back to your bedside. “No, I can’t do that. I know I don’t have the right, but I just can’t let you go. I have neglected you. I have neglected us. And although you reminded me several times, I forgot your niece’s birthday. I don’t even want to imagine how sad she was that I wasn’t there, or how sad you must have been that I couldn’t keep my promise again. I am sorry that I have once again failed as a boyfriend. I know I probably look like the biggest asshole and my words sound like lies to you. But please... I love you and I mean it when I say I’m sorry. I enjoy my job, even if it is stressful. But I’ve probably lost sight of the most important thing, and that’s you. Please... please, if there’s still a little bit of hope, tell me how to make it right.” Kuroo says, looking you in the eye with determination, even though he is struggling to keep his composure.

You sit up in bed and look down at him, still kneeling in front of you. You love him, but what’s the point if he can’t keep his promises anyway? Still, when he looks at you like that… with these sad eyes… as if he’s about to break apart… “I’m staying with my brother for a week from tomorrow... I need a clear head. So use this week to think about how you can set things right. And maybe... maybe there will still be a future for us.” You answer him more coldly than you actually wanted to and look over at the empty side of the bed. “And now go to bed... there’s no point sleeping on the sofa in the living room. It’ll only make your back ache.” you add, before crawling back under the covers and closing your eyes. Not waiting to see if Kuroo actually lies down next to you or not.

The week you spend with your brother is like a wake-up call for Kuroo. A reminder that he needs to change something.

He writes to you every day before he leaves for work. A simple “Good morning, I hope you have a good start to the day” and in the evening he always writes to you when he’s on his way home.

Nevertheless, overall he leaves you in peace. Just like you wanted.

After the week you spent with your brother, you now stand in front of the entrance to your own home and take a deep breath. Wondering if Kuroo is home yet.

He should actually be at home. After all, his working hours are over. Did he keep his promise? You open the door and step inside. The apartment looks exactly the same as it did when you left it a week ago. Tidy, clean. Almost as if no one lived here. And as you might expect, Kuroo’s shoes are also missing. So nothing has changed after all. Standing in the hallway, you laugh in frustration and shake your head as you suddenly hear a key in the door lock and Kuroo enters.

A little surprised to see you, his eyes widen. “H-Hey...” he says almost shyly as he stands in front of you. Kuroo has a bouquet of flowers in his hand and a bag of groceries in the other. “I thought... maybe we could cook together and then... talk afterwards. That’s why I went grocery shopping after work, but I guess most people do it after work. It was really crowded...” he clicks his tongue and tilts his head to the side with a somewhat strained smile.

So he did finish work on time? “And the flowers? Are they there for cooking too?” you ask, unconsciously breaking the tense atmosphere between you. Kuroo just rolls his eyes and you see the tips of his ears turn red as he hands you the bouquet. “Of course not. They’re for you... for the best woman in the world.” His last words are quiet, but you hear them well.

Kuroo and you cook together, even if it’s a bit strange at first.

You both don’t quite know what to say or how to behave.

But while you wait for your food to be ready, Kuroo speaks up, pushes a chair back and asks you to take a seat at the dining table before sitting opposite you and taking your hands in his.

He tells you that he has only worked one hour of overtime this week. That he has applied for an assistant so that he can hand over some of his work and therefore work less overtime.

He tells you about all this in such an excited tone, as if you’ve just had your first date and he’s asking you out. Kuroo seems to be making a real effort...

“You know, there are even therapists who deal with people who work too much and-” says Kuroo, but you interrupt him directly. “Tetsurou... I’m not asking you to go to a therapist. If what you’ve said is true, then... that’s a good start.” His posture relaxes abruptly at your statement before he grips your hands tighter again and rests his head on them, sighing with relief. He had fully expected you to draw a line today after all the lonely nights he had given you. After all the empty promises. And here you both are, sitting together, and he can’t believe how good-natured you are. “That means... you’ll give me another chance?” he asks, but doesn’t lift his head from your hands.

“One last one... so don’t mess it up Tetsurou.” you reply much more gently this time.

You’ve been together with Ushijima for a long time. You know his personality, that he tends to be quiet, sometimes blunt, and doesn’t talk much. Nevertheless, his lack of words sometimes makes you uneasy.

Something that Ushijima often can’t understand, because after all, that’s how you met. It usually ends with you just nodding off at some point and saying that you must have been imagining things and you just pretend that nothing happened.

But lately he’s been so quiet again. Even more distant than before.

Whenever he comes home from training, he goes straight to the kitchen to make himself a protein shake. Then straight to the bathroom to put his sports clothes in the washing machine and then gets ready for bed. Somewhere in between, he greets you with an almost indifferent “hello”.

You know that Ushijima is a little different, that his communication sometimes falls short. But his current behavior is unsettling even for you.

Has he perhaps met someone new? Does he no longer love you?

No... you don’t want to have thoughts like that. And yet you have them, and yet they don’t stop you from asking Ushijima this one question when he’s about to go to bed.

“Be honest Toshi... do you have another person you see next to me? Well... I don’t mean friends, but... a potential love interest?” The question slips out a little more reproachfully than you would have liked.

Ushijima looks at you with wide eyes as he puts on a T-shirt to go to bed. He can’t believe you actually asked him that. He has enough stress at the moment with the upcoming championship games. Now you’re just throwing in your insecurity. He doesn’t need that right now. “Do you really think I have the time or energy to deal with another relationship? This one is stressful enough at times,” he says almost coldly.

Wow... you think. It feels like he’s hitting a volleyball right against your chest. It hurts. “So you see me as a burden?” you try to say in a calm voice, but it’s already shaking. Ushijima just shakes his head in annoyance before climbing into bed next to you.

“When you ask questions like that, yes. Where do you come up with such nonsense? Do you have so little self-esteem?” says Ushijima before switching off the light on the bedside cabinet and turning towards you. “Let’s go to sleep now. I have to get up in the morning. And stop thinking such nonsense.” He says, as if he hadn’t hurt your feelings with his words earlier, before leaning in to kiss you goodnight, but you just turn around and avoid him. “Good night...” you mumble coolly, but Ushijima doesn’t think much of it.

Only after several days does he realize that something is different. You hardly talk to him, not at all, in fact. You no longer cook for him either. Maybe not in general? You’re often out until late in the evening and only come to bed when Ushijima is already asleep. But when he asks you what’s wrong, you just answer with a strange smile and say “nothing”. Ushijima doesn’t understand a thing.

It’s only when he’s on the phone with Tendou and the two of them are talking about all sorts of things, about how Ushijima is very stressed right now from training and the upcoming championships, that he mentions in passing that you’re behaving strangely. Tendou has known Ushijima for a long time. So he can guess that Ushijima has once again misunderstood something or said things that came across wrongly. When Ushijima tells him about the conversation with you a few days ago, Tendou sighs loudly into the phone. “Wakatoshi, that’s the stupidest thing you could have said to her. Does your better half know that you’re under a lot of stress at the moment?”

“Of course not. After all, it’s not something she can change. So she doesn’t have to worry about it.” As soon as Ushijima has spoken his sentence, he hears the sigh on the other side of the line again. “Wakatoshi, that’s not how a relationship works. How long have you been together now? Almost six years... She’s just worried about you. And if she then asks you whether there might be another woman in your life, ‘Don’t ask such stupid questions, why do you have so little self-esteem’ is not exactly the best answer.” Tendou imitates Ushijima.

He is surprised that he still has a girlfriend at all with this manner. Maybe he needs to fly to Japan more often after all… To give Ushijima a good slap on the back of the blunt man’s head.

“I just wanted to tell her that she’s a great woman and I can’t understand how she can have such thoughts when she’s perfect,” Ushijima replies as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Yet Tendou has to spend half an hour talking to Ushijima about how wrong his behavior was before he finally realizes it himself. So he decides to go home after training and wait for you, no matter how long it takes.

Sighing, you stand in front of the front door. On the one hand, you hope that Ushijima is already asleep, but on the other, you don’t want to continue with the silent treatment. You shake your head and open the door, only to see Ushijima sitting in the living room, his hands clasped together as he rests his arms on his thighs.

“Wakatoshi?” You ask, a little irritated, as you notice him staring into space. You can’t interpret his gaze. “Can you please sit down? We need to talk.” He says in a firm voice that makes your heart beat uncomfortably faster. You know you haven’t done anything wrong, and yet it feels like you have. Nevertheless, you nod, sit down next to him and look in his direction. He mirrors your movement. Only he doesn’t look at you with concern, but neutrally as always.

“I...” he begins, but then his voice drops. He doesn’t quite know how to start. After all, that’s never been his strength. “What is it, Wakatoshi?” you ask almost impatiently. After all, if he wants to end the relationship, he should keep it short. That will hurt, but maybe it’s better that way.

“I have hurt you. Seemingly very deeply. I’m sorry about that. It’s not that I don’t love you. I do and I thought you knew that too. Maybe I didn’t express myself properly, no actually, I didn’t express myself properly. But I can’t understand why you think that I might have another woman for whom I have feelings. You are a wonderful woman. Strong, independent, intelligent and attractive. For me, you are just right the way you are. I wouldn’t want anyone else by my side. I thought you would see yourself the way I see you.” Ushijima looks deep into your eyes with every word, his complete focus on you, before glancing briefly to the side. As if he’s thinking about what else he wants to say. Then he turns back to you and puts his hand on your thigh.

“We’re really under a lot of stress at the moment with our training. But that’s not something I want to burden you with in any way. After all, there’s nothing you can do to change the situation. And you shouldn’t have to worry about your husband. So… If I hurt you with my words, I’m sorry.” His words are sincere and the uneasy feeling you felt in your chest is suddenly gone. You should have known that Ushijima doesn’t love another woman. After all, it’s Ushijima.

“Let’s go out for dinner together at the weekend. Just the two of us. Let’s talk, spend time together. There hasn’t been enough of that lately.” Ushijima says, turning you more towards him by your thigh before wrapping his hands around your waist and placing you on his lap with ease.

“Wakatoshi!” you shriek briefly. His head is on your shoulder, his breath warm on your skin. “I’m really sorry that my words hurt you,” he whispers softly, starting to rub your back with his thumb as he holds you close to his chest. You are no longer angry with him. Has been no longer. Actually, you are glad that he told you how he felt.

“Going out for dinner sounds good,” you say softly and put your arms around him. As you answer, you feel him squeeze you a little tighter. As if he wants to tell you how grateful he is that you show understanding for him.

Actually, everything is going well between you and Sakusa. You both harmonize well, have similar interests and friends. The only thing that is a little difficult is the fact that you have to keep your relationship a secret.

At least Sakusa wants to keep the relationship private because he doesn’t want paparazzi following you around or some crazy fans sending you threatening letters or maybe even hurting you.

Sakusa is very cautious when it comes to you.

So apart from your closest friends, your family and his agency, nobody knows about your relationship.

However, it is becoming more difficult from year to year. Because there are already pictures that have been made public. Pictures in which you are seen with Sakusa. Sitting together in a coffee shop or going for a walk in the park. You’ve even been photographed while buying groceries.

There are also more and more rumors about you. “Who is the unknown woman who is always in the front row at every game?”, ”Is this young lady the girlfriend of athlete Kiyoomi Sakusa?”

Today Sakusa forgot his sports shoes. Since you work in the same building as the agency that has him under contract, you decide to simply take the shoes with you. After all, Sakusa told you today that he has an appointment at his agency before he goes to training.

With a slight nod, you greet the security people at the entrance to the third floor where the agency for athletes is located. You’ve already been here a few times, so it’s easy for you to find the right way. You stop in front of Sakusa’s manager’s office. In front of the office, you see that the door is slightly open and that people are talking. Sakusa was one of them. You briefly consider knocking and going in, but when you hear the next words, you stand still, petrified.

“Sakusa-san, are you sure you want to bring your relationship with Ms. Abe into the public eye? Ms. Abe is a popular tennis player. It would draw a lot of attention to both of you,” says Sakusa’s manager. Soon after, the sound of a woman giggling rings out, followed immediately by Sakusa’s voice.

“That’s fine... I think it’s for the best. But before we go through with this -” you don’t hear the last words, because you’ve already set the bag with the shoes down outside the office and rushed back to your own workplace.

You can’t concentrate all day long. You keep thinking about that conversation you had heard earlier. About Sakusa... wanting to make a relationship public? Only now do you realize what that actually means. Does this mean that Sakusa has been cheating on you the whole time and you were nothing but a pleasant distraction for him?

Frustrated, you stomp home after work, thinking about all the things you want to say. Everything you want to throw at Sakusa. When you arrive home, the apartment is still empty. Nothing unusual, because Sakusa wanted to go to his training after the meeting. So he’ll probably be gone for several more hours. Or did he just use that as an excuse to meet up with his new girlfriend?

You laugh bitterly, rolling your eyes at the thought of Sakusa’s name appearing in the magazines next to the name of that tennis player .... “Ridiculous...” you snort, and walk into the living room, where, ironically, the picture of Sakusa and you immediately comes into view. A photo of the two of you on vacation. You were in Norway. A country where Sakusa isn’t really well known. That’s why you could enjoy your vacation without paparazzi. In the photo you are in a small restaurant, outside on the terrace, both smiling intimately into the camera. Was it all just an act?

Furious, you grab the photo and throw it on the floor. The glass breaks and all the shards lie on the ground. “Damn...” you curse, annoyed at yourself for your outburst as you kneel down to pick up the pieces. But a familiar voice makes you flinch.

“My love, is everything all right?” you hear Sakusa, who must have come home a few seconds ago, dropping his bag in the hallway and looking in your direction with wide eyes. He left training on time today because he thought it was strange that his sports bag was in front of his manager’s door, but you weren’t there.

But now the time has come. The pain in your chest suddenly gets impossible to bear, your mouth quivers and your eyes are all warm as big tears run down your cheeks. A sight that really knocks Sakusa off his feet. Immediately he rushes in your direction, kneels down next to you and takes your hands in his to see if you have cut yourself. But your body seems to be unharmed.

“W-what’s wrong?” he asks again, concerned, before you pull your hands out of his grip and stare at him angrily. “When... when were you going to tell me you had another girl? And what are you doing here anyway? Shouldn’t you be at training or with your new lover?” you say angrily, but don’t raise your voice.

Sakusa tries to follow your words, even if he can’t understand them at first. But then he realizes… The bag in the hallway, your tears... you must have heard part of the conversation he had this afternoon. But you probably haven’t heard everything. The man with the raven-black curls closes his eyes before taking a deep breath and looking at you again, trying to reach for your hands.

“You’ve completely misunderstood something-” he is about to start, but you interrupt him directly. “Don’t say ‘it’s not what it looks like’. You can spare that phrase, Kiyoomi!” you say a little louder now, but Sakusa doesn’t back down and continues to try to talk to you calmly.

“Please Y/n... I want you to listen to me for a minute... just a minute... After that you can still be mad at me. Is that possible?” Sakusa grabs your hands this time, pulls you up with him and leads you to the sofa. “Sit down, please.” You’re actually reluctant, but you’ve been together for so long now... you can give him that one minute, can’t you? You grudgingly sit down, but don’t look at him.

“Lately, paparazzi are getting bolder and bolder... even the other day there were some in the supermarket who wanted to take pictures of us... I’m just worried that your face will eventually be in all the newspapers and platforms and you’ll no longer be able to live your life carefree, but will always have these people at your back, following you,” says Sakusa somewhat awkwardly. Almost as if he himself is unsure whether what he wants to tell you is plausible for you. But before he can continue, you interrupt him directly and give him an angry look.

“Oh, and that’s why you thought you’d find a new girlfriend who’s already a celebrity and just date her? Then you can go out without hiding? Is that it?” you’re struggling to keep your voice under control. Sakusa’s eyes widen and he shrinks back for a moment, his hands almost in a protective position in front of his chest as he shakes his head.

“Wait, no, it’s not like that. I don’t have another relationship. Well, okay wait. I thought it might be good if I publicly revealed a fake relationship with another celebrity. Of course, it’s not real and we’re not really a couple. But I thought it would take the pressure off you and you could-”

You can’t believe what Sakusa is saying right now. Is he really serious? If it’s true, why is he talking to his manager first and not to you? Doesn’t he care about your feelings? “Do you actually... don’t think at all? How do you think I would feel when I read the messages and your name is everywhere with the name of your fake girlfriend? Have you ever thought about the fact that this is extremely hurtful to me? I would rather be seen in public with you than see you with someone else ‘for my supposed freedom and privacy’. How would you feel if I introduced another man to the whole world as my boyfriend just to ‘protect’ you?” The words you say so loudly hit Sakusa, and he gets quiet. He doesn’t even know what to say anymore. Your question slaps him hard. How would he feel… The thought of seeing you with another man makes him angry, sad... and somehow helpless?

“I...” Sakusa begins, but immediately doesn’t know how to continue. “I’m sorry, that was probably stupid of me.” He then says, tilting his head downwards. Sighing, you stand up and shake your head once more before walking past Sakusa.

“You know, you never asked me, but I wouldn’t mind if people knew my face. It’s more important to me to do things with you without having to hide. You’re always the one who overdramatizes and worries unnecessarily... Whatever… I’m going to bed now. Good night.” You no longer wait for his answer. Instead, you go straight to the bathroom and get ready for bed.

Sakusa remains seated in the living room. He knows exactly that it wouldn’t be right to talk to you now, that you want to be left alone. Especially since he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to tell you. He just knows that his action was really stupid.

Sakusa hadn’t signed a contract with the tennis player and the two agencies yet, because he wanted to talk to you about it first, but at the moment his own idea to protect your privacy disgusts him. He really should have talked to you first about how you feel, whether you want to be in the public eye, instead of drawing any conclusions. Sakusa sighs, leans back against the sofa and closes her eyes. “Idiot...” he whispers quietly.

Two days pass and you are still disappointed by Sakusa’s behavior. Even though he probably only meant well. You haven’t really spoken much either. Just the usual “Good morning, have a nice day at work...”, “How was your day?” and all that sort of things.

Still at work, you just can’t concentrate and start massaging your temples when suddenly one of your colleagues shrieks and starts giggling. “Hey, isn’t that Sakusa Kiyoomi? What’s he doing here? His agency is upstairs, isn’t it?” she asks one of her colleagues, who quickly reaches for her make-up mirror and fixes her hair.

Now you too turn your head forward and see Sakusa walking in your direction with a bunch of white lilies. Everyone looks after him, puzzled, and you also stare at him with irritation as he stops in front of you. “Uhm... I wanted to bring these over to you because I have to go upstairs to talk to my manager about a photo shoot.”

The whispering of your colleagues gets louder and louder and you still look a little confused, but you take the bouquet and stand up. “Kiyoomi, what is this about?” you whisper to him, not quite knowing how to react. Sakusa grazes your arm, wanders up to your cheek and looks deep into your eyes. “You were right. I should never have had this stupid idea. I should have asked you. And even if I’m worried about you, I only want to see you by my side in any pictures on the internet. After all, you are the woman I love. I’m really sorry. Will you... accept my clumsy apology?” Sakusa gazes at you with such a puppy-dog look that you can’t help but put the bouquet on your table and jump into his arms.

Of course, Sakusa did not sign the contract with the tennis player.

At his next match, you’re in the front row as usual, and when Sakusa scores the final point to victory and his team cheers along with him, he immediately runs to you, pulling you over the barrier to hold you in his arms before setting you down and cupping your cheeks with his hands. Just a few seconds later, you feel his lips on yours, cameras pointing at you and taking photos. But you couldn’t care less. “You know, I’ve wanted to do this so many times before,” he says calmly, leaning his forehead against your own.

Although everyone knows your face now, Sakusa is always reserved in interviews when it comes to private questions.

He will not answer questions about you if they become too personal.

In the beginning, the paparazzi and reporters were really a nuisance, but everything calmed down over time and the two of you can go out and enjoy dates together without being followed, just like back then, before his career.

#haikyuu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #Sakusa x reader #ushijima x reader #kuroo x reader #tetsurou kuroo x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader

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starsdotalk · 1 month ago

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Couldn't resist writing my own, this is my first time so NO JUDGING PLZ 🙏🏻 (excuse for the grammar mistakes, English is not my first language 🥲)

You once had a family in which you hold very dear to you, a fantastic one at that. Movie nights in the weekends, shopping sprees with your mom, teaching your little brother his homework, and helping your stepdad with his mechanical shenanigans. The normal domestic family one would always dream of. Everything was great! What else could you ask for?

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

You remember that memory, you and you family were going to a museum. Your brother shouting your name to hurry up because "We will arrive to a longgggg line! I don't like waiting!" You we're sleepy, your movements were sluggish, you didn't feel like going out of your bed. Your stepdad told you that you could just sleep in the car on the way to the museum, that made you quickly get ready and hopped in the car.

On the road, You four were singing along to a song you don't remember much. Arriving and then walking in the museum was okay, strolling and looking at some animals that went extinct. Your brother went crazy when you guys arrived at the dinosaur section.

Everything was great! That is until the ground started shaking. it was slow at first, barely felt, and then it started shaking so fast that the T-Rex skeleton structure started to fall off one by one. The ground was shaking, so was your body. You felt terrified, the only thing that took you out of your terrified state was the reassuring hand of your mother holding yours and your stepdad's gaze that shouted a million reassuring words.

People were screaming, crying, running, and shouting. You were a brave kid, you didn't shout or cried. Amidst the chaos, you lost the warm feeling of your mother's hand Interlocked with yours, your father's gaze, and your brother's tight embrace.

You were alone and terrified. Standing alone in the middle of the room with tears spilling from your eyes, your mouth shut even though you want to shout for your family. What could a nine year old even do in a terrifying situation such as this? The next thing you know, the light is out.

You were welcomed by a white ceiling, Your eyes blurry, and your head throbbing in pain. A nurse comes up to you, was her name Alice? Alex? Ally? You don't remember. Her words were inaudible to you, probably asking about how you feel.

Then you remember what happened, your mom, dad, and brother where are they? Are they okay? What happened?With a small and broken voice, you asked about them. The nurse opened and closed her mouth as if unsure if she should tell you. For a few minutes she just kept pondering, you weren't an impatient child like your brother, but you felt as if you have his impatience right at this moment.

You asked again, clearly frustrated and confused. The doctor speaks up, when did he come in? He apologizes, says something about how they did everything they could, but still couldn't save them. What are they talking about? You were sure you heard your mom just calling out to you earlier, aren't they outside the room? They should come in, you want to see them.

You couldn't figure out what emotions was written all over the doctor and nurse's face. You we're always around joyful people, not whatever they we're feeling right at that time.

Suddenly a knock was heard on the door, your uncle stepped in the room. No mom, dad, or brother. Where are they? Are they still asleep?

You couldn't figure out what expression he was wearing again, it was similar to the doctor and the nurse. You didn't care because the next words your uncle let out was one you will never move on from.

"They're dead, your families dead." He says, his voice was odd, it had something more to it than normal. Your nine year old brain couldn't believe it. Them? Dead? No, your mom was calling out to you earlier, you heard her calling your voice!

You didn't take it lightly, you we're a child. A child mourning the lost of it's family.

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

Fast forward to a week, you're in another city, a city far away from home. Your uncle couldn't take you in simply because he was a busy man. So here you are, Infront of your biological father's doorstep.

It's scary here compared to the lush green grass and blue blue skies of your home. A guy named Alfred accompanied you inside, it was empty. Clean yet empty. Very empty.

No toys laying around the place caused by your brother, no sweet scent of a dessert your mom was making, no dad fixing whatever he could find fixable. Where is he anyways? Where's your biological father? You were expecting a warm welcome. He's your biological father after all, the man your mom made you with.

But the welcome was far from your expectations. It was cold, shivering even. Only the Alfred guy made the place less horrifying.

How will your life go on? You were still mourning. And your dad not welcoming you made you feel worse.

Alfred says he's busy, that he will go and greet me later. You obviously believed him, he looked trustworthy.

He leads to a room, it was clean and smelt like cleaning materials. It was quite huge for the nine year old you, bigger than the room back at home.

Alfred offered you to eat, you denied, saying you were tired from the long flight and needed rest. He let you, obviously.

So, now you were staring at the dark ceiling without the glow in the dark stars you had back home. The room was quite, you didn't like the smell. The house was huge and scary. Maybe one day you'll find this house warm and you'll consider this place your new home.

Or maybe not.

Who knows?

Author's note:

THIS IS SO SHORT, IM SORRY 😭

I might make the next chapter longer, so, don't worry 😜

#yandere batfam #batfamily x neglected reader #x reader angst #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily #yandere batboys

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metalhoops · 2 years ago

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The Five Times Eddie Wondered Who His Soulmate Was and the One Time He Didn’t Have To

The worst thing about knowing your soulmate was in trouble was understanding there was nothing you could do about it.

As a whole, Eddie thought the concept of soulmates was bullshit. He thought all that fate and destiny crap was a scam to sell the idea of monogamy or co-dependence. If people were too busy fretting over when they’d meet ‘their person’, they’d forget that actual shit was going on in the world. Who had the time to care about systemic oppression when they were busy trying to work out if the cute girl across the corridor was their one true love?

That being said, sometimes Eddie got curious about who they were. Not many people found their soulmates. It wasn’t as obvious as you’d think. When they were in pain, you would feel it. Two people could live across the world from one another, feeling each scraped knee and broken wrist but never meet. Hell, you could live across the street from someone and unless you were there to watch them get hurt and feel the same old pang of shared pain, you’d never know.

It wasn’t like Eddie had never felt his soulmate before that day. They’d twisted an ankle when Eddie was twelve and sprained a wrist when he was fourteen, but he’d felt no pain from them so strong as when he was sitting in detention during his junior year.

He was counting down the minutes left until he could get out of the high school, hell hole when a sharp and sudden pain flooded his jaw. He gritted his teeth and cradled it with his palm, feeling as though the wind was knocked out of his body. Eddie knew what being punched in the face felt like, and that was it. Just when the ache started to fade, another thud of pain to his cheek made his vision swim. From there, Eddie held his breath, waiting for the pain to end. He rested his head on his desk and felt his heart in his throat as the blows kept coming.

He missed Mrs Click telling him to go home, too busy gripping the desk for dear life, his fingernails digging into the poorly carved desk graffiti, slicing a line through ‘RB 4 TT.’ He was elated when the pain finally stopped.

Eddie kept his head down the whole walk home, trying to tell himself soulmates were bullshit, and that he didn’t care about his, but his thoughts kept returning to visions of them. He hoped they were okay.

Eddie never wanted to know who his soulmate was until that moment. They’d had a hell of a day and Eddie wanted to be there with them, tell them he knew what it was like. He wanted to hold their head in his lap and tell them everything was going to be okay, that if it were up to him, no one would hurt them like that again, but he couldn’t. For all he knew, they could be a hundred miles away.

The next time it happened, Eddie was at home alone in the trailer. Uncle Wayne was working a night shift, and he was watching a horror movie marathon on the T.V. It was shaping up to be a good night, with him curled up on the couch watching a schlocky creature feature when he felt all the air knocked out of his lungs.

For a moment, he was worried something horrible was happening to him. When Jeff had appendicitis, he’d reported the same kind of pain. Eddie rolled up the hem of his shirt, watching a black-blue bruise bloom and fade in the span of a second. Sometimes, if the pain was great enough, you’d get what they called an ‘echo’ of the injury. It only lasted a moment, invisible ink fading on pale paper.

The pain had been so strong that Eddie hadn’t been able to tell if it was theirs or his. From there, it got worse. He felt a sharp pang crash over his head, then another series of blows to the face. It was always the goddamn face.

When it was over, Eddie was left feeling lightheaded. The sensation faded quickly, but he knew his other half would be stuck with the ache for the rest of the night, if not longer.

There was a lot of conjecture when it came to soulmates. It was hard to conduct scientific studies on something based entirely on sensation, and any research that had been done was less than ethical. All the same, for the rest of the night, Eddie curled his arms around himself, holding his body in the hopes his person could feel it, that he could give them some comfort.

“I hope you’re okay,” he whispered, burrowing his face into the crook of his elbow.

Back at school, Eddie floated through the halls feeling less than himself as thoughts of his person swirled. The school was abuzz with rumours of a fight between Billy Hargrove and the former king of Hawkins High, Steve Harrington. Eddie couldn’t care less about some pissing contest for the highest rung on the social ladder, as he still felt the echoed ache of his soulmate’s pain throughout the day.

He ditched gym, opting to hide beneath the bleachers and smoke. To his surprise, he wasn’t the only one with the idea. When he arrived, he found the overthrown king sitting cross-legged, cradling his still-bruised jaw. Eddie wasn’t a fan of the jocks, but they were the biggest contributor to his wallet, so he tried to play civil with them. Plus, Eddie wasn’t one to kick someone when they were down, and boy was Steve down. He sat beside the man, examined his face, and thought for a fleeting second. Maybe he was the one, but that was crazy talk. The Freak and the King. In what world?

“You look like you’ve had better days,” Eddie noted.

“I’ve had worse,” Steve replied. Eddie had a pit in his stomach.

The two lapsed into silence, hiding out until the bell sounded for the end of gym. Eddie gave the boy a half-hearted salute as he stood.

“Hey, Steve?” Eddie spoke before he left.

“You okay?”

Steve gave Eddie the ghost of a smile, all charm drowned out by Steve’s two black eyes.

“I will be.”

Eddie had been worried about his soulmate before, but he’d never thought he’d lose them until the summer vacation after his failed attempt at senior year. He and the rest of Corroded Coffin had just finished their set at The Hideout. Eddie and the boys were carrying their instruments back to the van when the feeling hit.

He fell to the asphalt. The whole scene sounded all the more dramatic as the hi-hat he’d been holding fell with him. He really wished his soulmate would learn to keep their head down and stay out of trouble because this was getting ridiculous. He got ready to hunker down and wait it out, having gotten morbidly used to their annual beatings. Only this time the pain didn’t stop.

He was hit with wave after wave of agony. This time, it wasn’t just the face. He felt blows to his jaw, his stomach, and his side. He also felt a sharp spike of pain in his hand, as though someone was trying to peel his nails from his skin.

He could hear his friends around him, desperately trying to get something coherent out of Eddie, trying to work out if it was soulmate bullshit or if the guy was having an aneurysm. By the way he was acting, either seemed possible. When the pain subsided, Eddie felt foggy, like he was going through the worst goddamn high of his life. The neon signs of The Hideout and the street lamps danced before his eyes. Hundreds of little halos clouded his vision. He couldn’t think straight.

He managed to prop himself up against the wheel of the van and pulled his knees to his chest. He knotted his hands in his long hair and tugged, trying to remind himself what his own pain felt like, though stopped when he realised he’d also be hurting them. That was the last thing they needed.

“You okay?” He heard Gareth ask when the world came swimming back into focus. Eddie shook his head. Far from it.

“Are they okay? Are they... alive?” Eddie hadn’t let himself entertain that idea until it was brought up.

He felt the last flush of colour drain from his face. He could still feel them, but there was something wrong with the connection. Maybe he was dying. Eddie couldn’t help but think of his soulmate as ‘he’. He just knew.

Eddie kept trying to tell himself he didn’t care about them, but the fact that he could die without Eddie ever having met him made his heart ache. People thought the reason you felt your person’s pain was to protect them, to know when something was wrong. Eddie had done a bang-up job at that.

“For now, but it’s weird. I don’t... I don’t know how much longer-,” Eddie didn’t let himself finish.

The rest of the band suddenly took on a sombre mood. Jeff and Grant finished packing up the van while Gareth offered to drive. The boys stayed at Eddie’s trailer for the rest of the night, holding their breaths and waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Eventually, Eddie dropped off to sleep and when he awoke hours later, he was relieved to realise he hurt all over. He was still alive, still waiting for Eddie to find him and god did Eddie want to.

His uncle came home at the crack of dawn and let out an elongated sigh of relief at seeing Eddie and his band of merry men curled up together on the living room carpet. Wayne greeted Eddie with a tight hug that still hurt like hell.

“I was worried something happened to you,” His uncle stated in his gravelled tone.

“Why would something have happened to me?” Eddie asked, perplexed.

“The mall burnt down last night. I was worried you were close by.”

Eddie shook his head and let his uncle hold him as his mind ticked away. He wondered if it was possible his soulmate was in Hawkins. Eddie wasn’t sure he believed in coincidence.

Eddie started seeing spots during his lunchtime speech. By the end of his rant, the room had started to tilt. He felt unsure on his feet as he clambered from the top of the jock table to scamper back to the hellfire group. He must look worse for wear because he noticed one of his new recruits watching him.

“Eddie, you good?” Dustin questioned, sounding further away than he should. The lights in the cafeteria were too bright and his head was killing him.

He felt close to throwing up and wondered where the pain had come from before realising the familiar distance from the sensation. It wasn’t his pain. Eddie didn’t want Henderson to butt into his love life any more than he already did, so he gave the kid a tight-lipped smile that more closely resembled a grimace. This wasn’t the first time he’d felt this sensation from his soulmate, but they were growing more frequent.

Again, sweetheart? Eddie thought, knowing it was the second migraine that week.

“Migraine,” Eddie hissed through gritted teeth. He could feel his band members' eyes on him. They knew exactly who the ache belonged to.

To Eddie’s surprise, Dustin passed him a cool glass of water and barked orders at Mike, getting the kid to remove the ugly Hawaiian over shirt, before throwing it over Eddie’s head, blocking out the light. It wasn’t Eddie’s pain, so it didn’t help but he could appreciate the sentiment.

“Did they teach you first aid at science camp, Henderson?” Eddie guessed offhandedly.

“Nah. Steve gets migraines all the time. Helps to know how to deal with them.”

Eddie would never understand how a kid like Dustin came to know Steve Harrington, let alone worship the ground the guy walked on. Usually, Dustin had such good taste.

“Eddie’s soulmate gets them too,” Gareth spoke unhelpfully.

Even without looking, Eddie knew he was shooting him a shit-eating grin, knowing the rest of the afternoon Henderson would ask him about his soulmate. Just because the kid found Suzie, he thought the whole world deserved to find their one true love. Instead, Dustin came out with the most bullshit statement Eddie had ever heard.

“Maybe Steve’s your soulmate.”

Yeah, right. On what planet would that happen?

With everything that had happened to Eddie in the past few days, he hadn’t had time to think about his soulmate. He’d watched Chrissy die before his eyes, learnt the existence of another dimension and was walking through said dimension after witnessing Steve Harrington take a bite out of a demon bat’s tail. It’d been a weird ass day.

He wished he’d been like Robin and Nancy, able to jump in and rescue Steve on a whim, but as Steve disappeared beneath the black water of Lover’s Lake, he’d felt his throat close and his lungs ache for air. It wasn’t a good time for a panic attack. Nevertheless, he’d managed to get his ass in gear and follow the rest of the group down into Watergate.

He’d dropped back to walk with Steve and found himself complimenting the man. Steve was nothing like he imagined. He was not only kind, but as Dustin had put it, a total badass.

Once the adrenaline faded, Eddie found himself lifting the hem of his shirt, examining his side. He felt a dull throb of pain. It’d be his luck to bleed out without noticing, but he found there was nothing there.

“You good?” Steve asked.

Eddie couldn’t help but let his gaze settle on Steve’s bleeding side. He held his breath. He thought about pushing his hand against Steve’s wound, hurting him more just to check, but Eddie couldn’t hurt Steve. Not now. Especially if he was who Eddie thought he might be.

“Yeah, I’m fine. You okay?” Eddie asked, gesturing to Steve’s side. The boy nodded.

“I’m fine, just a scratch. Can hardly feel a thing.”

If Steve was his soulmate, he was full of shit. If Steve was his soulmate when everything blew over, they had a few things to talk about.

Something was very wrong. Vecna was going down in a blaze of flame when Steve’s body started to ache. He felt the familiar sting of interdimensional bat fangs digging into dermis flesh. Robin and Nancy were cheering, wrapping their arms around Steve, whooping, hollering and panting while Steve was busy feeling like he was being torn apart.

He was pulling away from the girls and turning on his heels before he had the chance to explain, running from the Creel House to the trailer park as fast as his feet could carry him. There was only one person this pain could belong to.

Steve had spent his whole life searching for his soulmate, desperate to know who they were, and he’d been under his nose the whole time. The fact that Steve’s soulmate was a boy hadn’t surprised him as much as it should. That’d been a crisis bubbling away in the background of his brain since he’d gone to his first swim meet. He’d seen a boy in tight swim trunks, with tan skin and felt the familiar heart-pounding, crush he’d experienced on pretty girls he’d passed in the school hallways.

By the time he got to Eddie, he’d hardly been able to fight through the pain surging through their connection. Dustin was wailing, holding Eddie in the wake of a bat graveyard. He looked up in alarm at Steve’s figure, noticing his pale skin and sweat-slicked brow.

“Harrington?” Eddie’s weak voice came from Dustin’s lap.

Steve was busy removing his clothes, trying to stop the bleeding. Dustin didn’t need to show him where the man was hurt, he could feel it.

“I really must have got some brownie points in the end,” Eddie murmured.

Both boys hissed as Steve shoved his shirt into a wound at Eddie’s side. That was when Dustin appeared to catch on, his eyes swelling wide as they darted between the two boys.

“What’re you talking about, Munson?” Steve asked, trying to keep the guy talking.

“Must’ve got into heaven after all,” He hummed, his deep brown eyes gazing beyond Steve at the distant red sky.

“Hey. No. None of that. You aren’t in heaven because you’re not dying,” Steve hissed, using what little strength he had left to lift Eddie’s body.

“Gotta be in heaven, if you’re here,” Eddie spoke, giving Steve a lopsided grin. Steve felt Eddie’s pain beginning to fade and panicked, not ready to let things end before they’d even had the chance to begin.

He hoisted Eddie up through the portal and waited to do the same with Dustin. It wasn’t long before the distant sound of sirens once more surrounded the Munson trailer and Steve found himself passing out from the pain as red-blue lights swallowed the world whole.

Eddie woke in pain, his whole body humming with a familiar dull ache that was unarguably his. It took time for him to make sense of the scene. He was in the hospital. Steve was slumped over at the far edge of the room, sleeping in an uncomfortable plastic chair, his head thrown back and his mouth agape. Eddie’s eyes trailed to his bedside, where he met Dustin’s.

“Holy shit, you’re awake,” the boy gasped, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug.

Eddie cringed as he felt a rush of pain swarm through his body. He must have gasped, because Steve sprung to life, waking with a start as his eyes trailed from Dustin to Eddie. Steve’s eyes were a storm of quiet conflict, punctuated by deep purple bruises.

“Eddie,” Steve breathed, standing to hover beside the bed, unsure of what to do next.

He was surprised Steve was there at all. He wouldn’t say the two were close. Though Steve had probably found some way of twisting Eddie getting hurt into some fault of his, ever the damn hero.

“Thought I was a goner for a second there,” Eddie admitted, trying to shake some of the strange tension from the room.

“If Steve hadn’t gotten there in time, you would’ve been,” Dustin spoke. Eddie watched as the boy’s hands trembled. He leaned over, fighting through the pain to ruffle the kid’s hair. Steve’s shoulders hunched over, doubling into himself.

“I’ll get the nurse. Your uncle left for his nightshift, but he should be back in a few,” Dustin muttered as he made a beeline for the exit. It seemed strange the boy was extracting himself from the scene.

Henderson called over his shoulder. “I told you so.”

And just like that, Eddie knew.

He looked up at Steve with wide-eyed alarm, only to find his look mirrored.

“How’d you know we were in trouble?” Eddie asked, though thought he knew the answer.

“After we killed Vecna, I felt... I could feel you. I knew you were hurt,” Steve explained.

“How’d you know it was me?” Eddie pushed.

“Thought it was too much of a coincidence that it felt like my soulmate was getting eaten alive by giant bats. I’d call it an educated guess.”

Eddie gritted his teeth and nodded. Surely, as far as soulmates went, he hadn’t been what Steve imagined.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said, surprising Eddie.

“For what?”

“Not being the person you wanted me to be, I guess,” Steve spoke so candidly, it made pain and panic swell in his throat. How could Steve think Eddie was disappointed that he was his soulmate?

“I’m not disappointed, Stevie. Why would I be disappointed?”

“You had to have known,” Steve reasoned.

Eddie didn’t know how long he’d been unconscious, but it sounded like Steve had been overthinking every second of it.

“You give me more credit than I deserve. I didn’t know it was you, sweetheart. Cross my heart,” Eddie admitted, surprised at how quickly the term of endearment he’d used for his soulmate slipped off his tongue when talking to Steve.

He hadn’t worked out shit. He’d had hunches, as though his heart knew, but the logical part of his brain kept overriding it. In what world were he and Steve perfect for each other?

Eddie threw caution to the wind as he saw the genuine look of affection and excitement painting its way across Steve’s face. He looked hopeful. Eddie cringed, sitting up and trying to lean closer to Steve.

“Come here before I hurt the both of us,” Eddie grumbled.

Steve shuffled closer to Eddie’s bed, crouching down, so the two were at eye level. Eddie wanted to kiss the boy so damn bad, and Steve was sending him all the signs that he should, but there was something he had to do first. He took Steve’s face between his hands, running a thumb over the purple bruises beneath his eyes.

“No more playing hero, okay?”

Steve nudged his face into the palm of Eddie’s hand and nodded, letting out a weak chuckle.

“I think I can agree to that.”

Eddie crushed their lips together and despite the pain, it felt like everything was right in the world.

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zablife · 19 days ago

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Run From Me Darlin'

Tommy Shelby x female reader (Alfie's wife)

A/N: Taking shelter requested by @thomashelbyswife. Song is "Run from Me" by Timber Timbre. Prompts "I didn't know where else to go." Part of my Corrupt a Wish challenge.

Divider credit: @wethairjoel

Warnings: language, mention of infidelity, betrayal Corrupt a wish reminder: If you think this story has a happy ending, you haven't been paying attention. Proceed with caution!

The servants at Margate had long since retired when they heard their master's voice echoing throughout the house, along with an eery melody from the ancient piano in the parlor.

"Run from me, darlin' Run, my good wife Run from me, darlin' You better run for your life"

And so you were in that moment, escaping a mad man who had made your life a misery from the moment you said I do. You ran from your seaside home in only your night dress, no possessions or money to your name. It was fear that drove you from him that night as he threatened to kill you.

That's how you found yourself on the doorstep of Tommy Shelby's manor the next morning, your shivering form but a memory of the woman he'd come to know the past five years.

"Y/n, what's happened?" Tommy asked as he ushered you inside and draped a blanket over you.

"I didn't know where else to go," you cried in despair, breaking down the moment you saw his sympathetic sapphire eyes staring back at you.

"You're going to be alright," he assured you, looping a strong arm around your waist for support. "Tell me what he's done," he urged, guiding you to sit on the sofa in his office.

He poured you a drink to steady your nerves and you confided everything. The periods of time you'd been locked in your room because of his suspicions about the two of you, followed by angry and often nonsensical tirades. Your chest heaved with pain and your voice faltered with hiccuped gasps at the horrendous treatment you'd received for over a month.

"How did you manage to escape?" Tommy asked.

"A door left ajar by a new maid," you replied.

Tommy nodded solemnly as he listened, then drained his glass of whisky without answer. He didn't have to because you knew he didn't believe in hurting women, having agreed many times before that his friend's behavior was crossing a line.

As Tommy lightly stroked your hair, you felt compelled to share the threat against him as well, quietly explaining Alfie's plans to crush Shelby Company Limited with his uncle's connection to the opium trade in America. Though you sensed his frustration as his fingers curled into your shoulder, you tried to soften the blow by proposing this as a time of new beginnings. "Run away with me, Tommy," you urged, gazing hopefully into his eyes.

"Leave it to me," he assured, placing a chaste kiss to your temple.

You settled back against him, covering his hand with yours before giving way to exhaustion.

Feeling your body grow heavy with sleep, Tommy called for the housekeeper to look after you. "Frances, take Y/n upstairs and draw a bath," he instructed carefully. "Then prepare the guest room for her. She'll be staying with us tonight."

"Yes, sir," the woman replied, taking you by the hand with such gentle ease, you began to weep.

"Oh, my dear," she gasped as she guided you upstairs. "Don't worry, Mr. Shelby will set it right." And you couldn't help but believe the promise in her voice.

Downstairs Tommy paced his office in agitation before finally tossing his glass against the fireplace in anger. As the shards of glass fell at his feet, he tried not to picture your beatific face crumbling. In fact, he tried not to think of you at all as he raised the receiver to his ear.

"What the fuck do you want?" Alfie grumbled.

Tommy traced the phone cord, thinking of all the times his so-called friend had betrayed him and how fitting it would be to humiliate him by stealing his wife forever. However, the notion of partnering together to control the opium trade abroad was far more enticing.

"How is your uncle in Boston?" he asked.

Alfie huffed out a laugh as he asked, "And why are you so concerned about the state of my family this evening?"

Tommy didn't have to say your name, it was implied the moment he began to negotiate. "You'd exchange my wife for access to Boston, would ya?" Alfie sneered with a knowing grin.

"I would," Tommy answered without hesitation.

And that's how the deal was made late one September afternoon as you soaked in the bath, quite unaware you would be reunited with your husband the following morning.

You had one last peaceful slumber before realizing you'd been sold out, exiting Arrow House kicking and screaming against the men your husband sent to punish you.

"I thought you loved me. How could you do this?" you cried when you glimpsed Tommy's somber face waiting in the drive.

Motioning for the men to let you go, Tommy welcomed you into his open arms as he whispered, "It's not personal, it's business."

You wanted to fight him, but instead you pleaded for your life. "Have mercy," you begged against his lips when he offered one last passionate kiss. A glimmer of promise was restored in that moment as you swore you felt his muscular frame give way into yours. However, you underestimated the strength of his resolve. One look into his icy blue eyes told you, he would never claim you as his own.

"Run," Tommy urged you under his breath, waiting for Alfie's men to give chase.

As he watched you flee toward the open field where he kept his horses, he hoped your swinging gate would prevail. Swallowing hard at the sight of his betrayal, he loathed the man he had become.

"Run for your life," he whispered, knowing it was already too late.

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#Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #Tommy Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby x you #Tommy Shelby x y/n #Tommy Shelby #Alfie Solomons x reader #Alfie Solomons x you #Alfie Solomons x y/n #Alfie Solomons #zablife corrupt a wish #A queue for you 😘

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paulyenvol6 · 30 days ago

Text

Byka Atroksia (Chapter 26)

Contains: no warnings :)

Wordcount: ~2.51k

Masterlist of this story

Rhaenyra really turned out to be a problem.

You saw your sister the next morning and didn't exactly know who had informed her about the betrothal. You could just see her eyes flashing at you when she passed you in the corridors.

"Tell me that this is not true.", your sister hissed and forcefully grabbed your upper arm.

"Ow. You're hurting me."

"TELL me. That this is not true."

You bit your lip looked at her with big eyes, suddenly feeling like a 5 year old who had broken your sisters favourite toy.

"It's true."

Rhaenyra let go off you at once. "You're a fool beyond my imaginations, sister.", she snapped. "How can you be so blindsided? Have you additionally been poisoned with milk of the poppy which makes your senses foggy? How can you say that it is your desire to marry Daemon?"

You finally managed to escape from Rhaenyra's grip and took a step back from her.

"Because it is my wish. I love him and I'll be happy to spend my life with him.", you confidantly spoke with a loud voice.

"But Daemon doesn't love you! He merely uses you to gain power over father."

You grew angry as well now. "No Rhaenyra. It is not like that and if you refuse to see the true bond between uncle and me then so be it. This wedding will happen with or without your support."

Your sister walked back and forth looking panicky. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into. Daemon will destroy you and leave you with nothing. Perhaps he'll get you pregnant before but he most certainly will neither protect nor truthfully love you. He'll use you for whatever he thinks he might need you for without spending a thought about your well being."

By now your eyes were flashing equally light and you dangerously took a step towards your sister.

"Shut up. You have no idea what happened between uncle and me. You have no right to judge over our relationship."

"I of all people am able to judge this union."

But this time you wouldn't let Rhaenyra scare and insult you.

"You're evil, Rhaenyra. You've manipulated, degraded, insulted and played with me all my life. It's enough now. I won't let you do this anymore. I love Daemon. He has apologized for his behaviour and I truly know that he respects me. Way more than you ever did. If you continue to act this way I don't want you by my side. You're my sister but right now you're my enemy as well."

With these words you turned around to leave her in this corridor while Rhaenyra had buried her face in her hands. But soon the Princess gathered herself and exactly knew her next destination and mayhaps the only other person who could prevent this marriage from happening.

Rhaenyra Targaryen entered the chambers of her uncle and stood by the door to watch Daemon fold some pieces of parchment.

"Don't.", she just whispered which wasn't enough for him to give her his attention.

"Uncle.", she spoke louder and he turned around. His eyes were cold and determined and Rhaenyra felt a million pieces inside her shattering.

"How can you do this?", she breathed almost inaudible and Daemon's mouth tensed.

"This is none of your business, niece. Your father agreed to this marriage and so it will happen."

She chuckled but there was nothing happy in it. "My father is blinded. Just like my sister."

The Princess took a step towards him and stared at him. "You shouldn't do this. If you actually care about her don't do it. You know that you wouldn't good for her."

Daemon smugly smiled down at her. "How about you put your own interests aside for once in your life? How about you listen to what your sister wants for once in your life?"

"Vhaela doesn't know what she wants.", Rhaenyra snapped.

"That's very patronizing, dear niece." He paused. "This marriage will happen. And it will be a good union."

Rhaenyra's eyes glistened and Daemon sighed. "I will treat her right and protect her. I can promise you that. Even though…. I don't even think that this is what you care about."

His niece raised her chin and looked stern. "Of course it's what I care about.", she said and knew that there was some truth to it.

Yes, she now and then lost it and was drawn by her own desires and emotions but she had tried it so badly. It had been her wish to be there for you and now she felt like she had failed. Rhaenyra who was searching for more words to support her claim exhaled loudly and turned away from him. But this time Daemon was the one to approach her and grabbed her arm.

"Are you aware of the fact that you have made your sister's life hell since you were young girls? That you refused to let her near your dragon when she was at her lowest? That you have abondened and humiliated her? That she has always struggled with living in your shadow? That she just wanted to be like you and you used that fact for your own interests and manipulated her? And furthermore enhance it."

Rhaenyra's eyes spit fire and she tried to free herself from his grip.

"Let me go.", she hissed and Daemon dropped her arm as if he had burned himself.

"You don't know what you're talking about.", Rhaenyra claimed but her uncle just laughed.

"Oh believe me, I do. I have an older brother, niece. I know a lot about the dynamics of siblings."

Rhaenyra grunted and walked away from her uncle with quick steps. She wasn't satisfied with how this conversation went and preferred to leave Daemon's chambers rather than listening to more accusations so she left feeling heated and a little ashamed. Because of course she knew that there was some truth to his words though she obviously wouldn't admit it.

~~~~~~~~~~

It was two moons later when you stood in front of your big mirror and you remembered how Daemon had stood behind you the day that he returned from the Stepstones. You had his necklace around your neck and you toyed with it with a soft smile on your face. Then you looked down on yourself.

You wore a golden gown that left your collarbones bare and fell to your feet. Your hair was put up and exposed your neck so that you could see the pendant glistening on your skin. You smiled feeling butterflies in your stomach and then finally there was a knock on your door.

You had ordered your handmaidens to get you ready hours before the ceremony in fear that you wouldn't be ready in time and of course they were finished almost two hours before the wedding would take place. You had spent the time walking back and forth but now finally the time had come.

"Yes. Come.", you said loudly and your father entered the room. His eyes softened when he saw you in front of the mirror and you could see some tears welling up in his eyes.

"Daughter.", he whispered and you turned to him.

"Father. I'm ready."

"You look beautiful.", Viserys smiled and caressed your shoulder. "You make a fine bride."

You chuckled and took the arm that your father offered you. He led you down the corridors and steps until the two of you entered one of the carriages by the keep. It took you through the city to the sept while you nervously entangled your fingers.

"Everythink will be fine.", your father calmed you.

"I know. I know.", you said and truthfully believed him. You just felt nervous anyway.

The ride through the city wasn't long though to you it felt like hours. But then the carriage finally came to a stop and the door was opened for you. You stumbled through the door and realized it would be wiser to look at the ground rather than the magnificant building in front of you so you one by one climbed the stairs until you had the stoney ground below you. Your father once again offered you his arms and you felt your heart beat fast in your chest. You gulped loudly and Viserys patted your arm.

"I remember how nervous I was on my wedding day. I think I forgot my name."

You grinned and watched as the knights opened the door for your father and you.

Now it would happen. You had wanted it for so long and now Daemon would finally take you as his lawful wife. Your cheeks were heated and your hands shook and you just hoped people wouldn't notice it. Your father and you strut through the hall and you could see Daemon from the far. His eyes were on you and he had a slight smirk on his face.

Once you were closer you could also see his eyes and they looked warm. Loving. It made your insides turn.

"Vhaela.", he whispered when you stood a few stairs below him and you smiled. "Daemon."

You walked up the remaining stairs and in the meantime Viserys caught his brother's eyes. Daemon nodded slightly and Viserys did so as well with an expression between melancholic and hopeful. And then you found yourself on your uncle's opposite with the septon above you.

"Dearly beloved, we find ourselves in these great halls today to witness the union between man and wife."

Soon you didn't listen to the man anymore because you were to busy looking at Daemon. Your eyes were fixed on each other and he looked so pretty that it took your breath away. This was all you wanted and never had you been more certain in your life.

And so it happened. You wed Daemon in tradition of your house and soon the people that had gathered in the septon cheered and applauded for the newly wed couple.

Holding hands you smiled at the crowd but when your eyes met with your sister it slightly vanished. No, you wouldn't let her ruin this day for you. Of course you were aware of the fact that Rhaenyra still didn't approve of this match, if it was because she was jealous of you or if she really acted out of sisterly love you didn't know. You just knew that you didn't care.

Daemon was who you wanted and now you had him. You turned to look at him and your eyes met. A smile appeared again and you felt his arm around your waist. Then his mouth wandered close to your ear and he said words that were only meant to be heard by you.

"Avy jorrāelan, byka atroksia. Sir se mirre."

Epilogue

8 months later

"Fuck.", you moaned and held on to the chair while trying to get up. Daemon immediately hasted to you and grabbed your arm to support you.

"Are you in pain, love?", he asked and now you were standing on your feet but still clutching to your husband's shoulder.

"I've been in pain for the past 8 fucking months.", you hissed but felt sorry at once. Daemon took your hand and covered the back of it with kisses.

"I'm sorry, darling.", he mumbled and you smiled softly.

"No… I'm sorry, it's not your fault."

Now Daemon raised his eyebrows and looked down to the swell of your belly.

"Well. I think I do have a part in this…"

You grinned and watched as he reached down to caress your stomach. It was a loving and careful gesture and you felt the warmth of his body which sent shivers down your spine. Daemon then came closer to kiss your forehead while his hand was still connected with your belly.

"I love you.", he whispered. "And I love this little child in you."

Your heart fluttered and you kissed his cheek. His familiar smell that you associated with home and love filled your senses and you craved his presence so much that you wrapped your arms around him.

"I love you too.", you whispered.

Daemon understood what you wanted and let you crouch against his chest. You listened to his heartbeat and smiled against his body.

"Daemon?"

"Mhmm?", he made.

You looked up to him to search for his eyes. "All the women always say they know the gender of their babes. I don't.", you chuckled. "I have no idea what's growing inside of me right now."

He returned the smirk and caressed your back. "Perhaps you just didn't listen correctly.", he spoke, but sounded sarcastic.

"Perhaps.", you scoffed and then felt his hand running over your hair.

"It will be loved and cherished whether it has a cock or not."

You nodded. "Yes. I will be."

You stood like that for another moment until Daemon softly took your face in both his hands and held you a little away from him.

"Has there been any word from your sister…?", he asked carefully but you couldn't help but feel your jaw tense.

"No.", you spoke shortly and pushed your chin forward. "And I don't care."

Your husband caressed your cheek with his thumb. "I just thought… Now that you're gonna go in labor soon. You might want her by your side."

But you just smiled at him. "I have everything I need right here."

"And you have me by your side. At all times.", he assured you and pressed yet another kiss to your forehead. But you knew that Daemon had wanted to talk about Rhaenyra and the situation with her so you sighed and looked at him.

"I'm content here at Dragonstone, Daemon. I want to give birth here. I do want my father to meet our child after I have given birth but… I do not wish to be in the hateful environment of my sister while I scream my lungs out. I think it will be painful enough already."

Daemon nodded. "I understand. I just want this to be as little unpleasant as possible."

Your mouth was drawn to a soft smile. "I know. And I have you here… and my handmaidens… and the maesters."

You had squeezed his hand with each word and now turned around to slowly walk to the door. Daemon followed you.

"Where are you going?"

"I wish to go to the beach.", you said over your shoulder.

"Are you quite sure? Don't you think it will too exhausting in your condition?"

But you lifted your eyebrows and gave him a croaked smile.

"My mother used to fly on dragonback when she was two moons away from giving birth to me."

Your husband took your hand and walked by your side out of the chambers.

"PLEASE don't do this, Vhaela.", he chuckled.

And so the two of you left the castle hand in hand and watched the sunset.

You breathed in the salty air. You felt Daemon's soft hand in yours. You felt the warmth of his body pressed to yours. And you felt the happiness flooding your system. And you were happy.

~~~~~~~~~~

The End

~~~~~~~~~~

Wowwww I can't believe this story is finished now. I'm so so thankful to the people who read this, commented on this and simply were at my side while I posted this story. I really hope you enjoyed it, I hope you enjoyed the last chapter (I'm a hopeless romantic and I couldn't make it a tragic ending... hope you're fine with that) and I can't wait to put out more things and find out what you think about it. I have another short series that I wrote a few weeks ago that I would like to publish now and it's kind of slow burn smut but only around 15k words.

Anyway, thank you again, I hope you enjoyed this story and I just want to say that it gave me so much joy and excitement to post these chapters every two days and I know it sounds cheesy but it really was a beautiful experience to me <3 Stay tuned for more..... 👀

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its-time-to-write · 1 year ago

Note

This may be a bit of a strange idea (Feel free to ignore this request)

But since your about Jaime Tartt baby fic. I had the thought of Jaime trying to give reader a break takes the baby in a stroller to training with Roy and Roy is just kind of like WTF and other hijinks ensue like maybe someone flirts with Jamie with the baby or roy gets left with the baby at somepoint or Reader is freaken out cause the baby is gone. IDK just an idea that has been stuck in my head since I read your baby fic

Dude this request was not strange AT ALL. It was actually nice because it was similar to something I wanted to write, and I haven’t been able to do that because I’ve been doing requests. THANK YOU.

i’ll still be right next to you my dear

Your daughter Bea is five months old. You’re still sleep-deprived, but less than you were a month ago. Jamie does his absolute best as her dad and your husband, but the weight of it still falls to you. Things have gotten considerably less tense, too, since you moved out of the flat and back into your house. It was weird at first, both you and Jamie walking on little eggshells around each other.

The tension was broken with an all-hands-on-deck moment at 1am, when Bea had a stomach bug or something, and you two had no choice but to just laugh in resignation at the sheer enormity of the mess she made. There go the beginnings of sleep training.

Bea had her own schedule, one that involved being an early bird like her dad. She would wake up five to ten minutes before his 3:30 alarm went off, and it got to the point where he barely even set it anymore.

Jamie would get out of bed, throw on some pants, change her, and then zip through his morning routine. He’d put her back to bed, give you a half-awake kiss, then be out the door before Roy could knock.

(Roy made that mistake early on, waking Bea. You thoroughly chewed him out in an exhausted rage. Jamie says it’s the closest thing he’s ever seen to Roy crying).

Anyway, at 3:55 this Saturday morning, Jamie kisses you, says, “I’ve got Bea, so sleep in,” and is gone before you even know what’s happening.

You flop back on the pillow and are out in seconds.

—

“The fuck is this?” Roy says the moment Jamie steps out the door, pushing a happy Bea in her jogging stroller.

“The fuck does it look like?” Jamie replies. “Her mum needed sleep, so Bea’s joining us for training.” He leans over the stroller to look at his daughter and coos, “Isn’t that right, angel?”

Bea makes a delighted gurgle and Roy grunts.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me the great Uncle Roy is daunted by a silly wee baby?” Jamie says, grinning. “You are Bea’s favorite.”

Roy glares at Jamie. “Don’t fucking lie to me, everyone knows Sam’s her fucking favorite. She even likes fucking Isaac better than me.”

Jamie pouts. “Don’t listen to him, Bea. We know you love Uncle Roy, even though he’s being a twat.”

Roy just grunts and looks at Bea. “You know how I feel about you, kid,” he says. She babbles. She knows.

“Alright, come on. Suppose the stroller gives your dad some extra weight while he runs.”

Jamie grins, and starts jogging down the street.

—

You wake up to the sound of silence. No Bea, no Jamie. Just birds chirping and the sun shining. You squint at the clock. 8:37am. You reach for your phone and see a selfie from Jamie of him, Bea, and Roy marked 7:02am with the caption, headed to breakfast!

You now have a hazy recollection of Jamie saying something about taking Bea when he left, but it felt like a dream at the time. The silence makes more sense now.

You smile and send heart emojis. I love you! you type.

love u 2, Jamie replies. Then: I hope that was for me not Roy?

You shake your head. That boy. He thinks he’s a comedian.

You roll out of bed and stretch. Time for a nice, long shower, then a good coffee from Jamie’s complementary espresso machine. You’re not gonna lie, there are certain perks to being married to a footballer.

—

Meanwhile, Jamie and Roy have stopped for breakfast at a café that Roy says fits in with Jamie’s diet. He says no coffee and Jamie makes a disgusted face and replies you’re not the boss of me, which is why they’re letting Bea decide if Jamie gets coffee or not by seeing who will get her to smile first.

Jamie wins, of course. It’s part of being a dad.

They’re sitting at a table outside till 9am, Bea out of her stroller and in Jamie’s arms. They’re on their third cups of coffee and Bea’s draining her bottle of formula like there’s no tomorrow. Jamie is in the middle of stroking Bea’s nose (a miniature version of yours) and watching her eyes blink slow, when two girls walk up to their table.

“Ohmygod, no way, is that your baby?” one girl asks.

Jamie looks up and gives a polite, perfunctory, “yeah,” and turns back to Bea. Roy’s sitting back in his seat, ready to watch this unfold.

“It is like, so totally adorable. There’s something so sweet about a baby, don’t you think?” the other girl says, putting her hand on Jamie’s shoulder. He shifts away as politely as he can.

“I just think that like, men with babies are so much hotter than men without babies,” girl 1 continues, oblivious to Jamie, who has shifted Bea onto his chest and is displaying his left hand as conspicuously as possible. He taps Bea’s back with his ring finger in what he hopes is an absentminded manner.

Roy holds back a snort.

“Especially single dads,” says girl 2. “Soo hot. I’ll give you my number if you ever need a babysitter.”

She’s barely done speaking when Jamie blurts out, “I’m married.” He looks so harried that this time Roy can’t hold back a laugh. The girls turn to him with a glare, then back to Jamie.

“She doesn’t have to know,” says one of them.

“Pretty sure she does,” Jamie replies. “And anyway, I ain’t interested. Have a good morning.”

Bea, the angel that she is chooses that exact moment to start burping.

The girls give her a disgusted look and turn away.

Roy looks at Jamie, eyebrows raised and a ghost of a smile on his face. “Nice fucking move with the ring finger,” he says. “If it were me, I’d’ve fucking given them a different fucking finger.”

“That’s where you and me differ, granddad,” Jamie replies, wiping spit up off his vest (waterproof, thank god), “I’m a gentleman.”

Roy rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

—

The windows are open, the laundry is spinning, and you’re dancing around the house. You love Bea, but god you also love good rest. And a clean house. And Jamie Tartt. Man, you love him. You can’t believe he took Bea out for the whole morning and knowing him and Roy, they’ll be out until at least 11am. You smile. That gives you time to head to the shops and pick up some flowers, which will make you feel like a civilized human being, one who has her life together and can take care of her child and her husband and maybe, just maybe, one who is in the mood to get laid tonight.

—

Jamie and Roy are strolling through Richmond, passing by shops and enjoying what feels like the first lovely day in ages. Jamie hasn’t heard from you since you asked is this shirt clean or dirty? with a picture near the washing machine. He knows Saturday cleaning is like a ritual to you, one you picked up in high school and carried on through college. You have a system and you take your time, windows open and music playing. He can picture you spinning around the house putting things away, and that mental image is enough to make his face split into a smile. He remembers the Saturdays you spent before Bea, you cleaning and dancing, and him, well, not helping but certainly dancing with you and promising that he’ll give you more dirty sheets to wash if you’d just take a tiny little break? In the bedroom? With no clothes on because they need to be washed, wink wink?

It usually worked.

You’d lay in bed for precisely ten minutes afterward, take a no-nonsense shower, then kick him out of the house. He’d be gone for an hour, buying you that chocolate you liked and whatever flowers he thought suited the day. There’s a good thought. He should get you flowers, a reminder of their early days of romance. And maybe, just maybe, Bea can sleep soundly enough that they can revive other traditions, too.

“Roy,” Jamie begins.

“No.”

“Oi, you didn’t even let me finish!” he says indignantly.

“Fine. What do you fucking want.”

“It ain’t for me,” Jamie says, “it’s for Bea. And my wife. I want to get her flowers, but it ain’t easy to push the stroller and look. Can you take Bea around the green? I’ll come find ya when I’m done.”

Roy stares at Jamie, and Jamie is sure he’s going to say no. But then Roy walks around to the front of the stroller and crouches down in front of Bea.

“If your dad fucking goes and gets flowers for your mum, do you promise to be alright for twenty minutes? I know I’m not fucking Sam or Isaac, but Phoebe thinks I’m a good uncle. She’s a proper fucking dweeb, but a good judge of character.”

Bea just stares at him. Roy slaps his thighs and stands up. “Alright,” he says. “Let’s go.”

Jamie grins and says, “Bye, Beatrice. Be good for Uncle Roy.” He gives her a kiss on her forehead, a boop on the nose, and is gone, weaving through Richmond, man on a mission.

“Your mum’s a fucking saint for putting up with him,” Roy says to Bea. Bea says nothing. She’s fallen asleep. Roy shrugs and starts pushing her in the direction of the green. Better asleep than crying.

—

You’re showered, dressed, with just a touch of makeup, and you’re on your way to the flower shop. There’s this little one you and Jamie used to go to. You know the owner a little, but you suppose Jamie knows her better because he’s been in more. She’s about the age of his mum, and has a soft spot for him. He overpays and always leaves one flower for her. He hasn’t had the time to be over since Bea, so you say hello and show her some baby pictures, and then some of Bea and Jamie. You both laugh over your favorite, Jamie passed out on the couch, mouth open, wearing gray sweatpants and a single sock, with Bea on his stomach in a gray onesie and a single sock. She’s drooling on him and his hair’s a mess, but you think it’s adorably hilarious. Like father, like daughter.

Now, you’re perusing the flowers. It smells wonderful, the warm weather diffusing the fragrances through the shop. You turn a corner and bonk straight into a man with his back turned to you. You open your mouth to apologize and he turns, and out comes, “Jamie?”

He smiles and you peer behind him. “Where’s Bea? Oh my god Jamie, did you lose our daughter? She had better be close by, I swear to god, Jamie Tartt, how do you lose an entire baby, especially one as noisy as Bea?!”

You’re oblivious to Jamie’s attempts to interrupt your rant, so when you pause for a breath he says, “love.”

You turn to face him, from where you were trying to stand on your tiptoes hoping for a glimpse of Bea’s stroller.

“I didn’t lose her. She’s with Roy. D’you really think I’m that irresponsible?”

He looks so hurt that you realize what you’ve been saying. Your hands fly up to your mouth. Of course Jamie wouldn’t lose Bea. He loves her. He looks at her as though she makes the stars shine.

“Babe. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I just wasn’t expecting to see you, and then I wasn’t expecting to see you without Bea, and I thought I’d surprise you by getting flowers before you both got back, and-” you stop. Jamie is gently holding your face and smiling, no longer hurt.

“Babe,” he says, “love of me life and best mum around, it’s ok. I know whatcha mean.” He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Bit funny we had the same idea, innit?”

You smile. You’d been so caught up in your split-second worry about Bea, you didn’t even realize what was happening.

“Guess some things don’t change,” you reply. “You pick out any good ones?”

Jamie places his hand over his heart. “Love. I only pick out good ones. I picked you, didn’t I?” You laugh at his sparkling eyes, and put your hands on his waist, pulling him close.

“Pretty sure I picked you,” you reply.

Jamie hums. “That’s a fuckin lie, and you know it.”

Your feeble retort is cut off by his lips on yours.

—

You and Jamie walk toward the green, hand in hand. He’s holding bright yellow daffodils in the other.

Jamie spots Roy first. “Oi!” he yells, “look who I found!”

You wave, jog over to Bea, and crouch down. “Hi baby! I missed you! Did you have fun with Uncle Roy?” Bea babbles at the sound of your voice.

“Oh good,” you reply, “he is your third-favorite uncle, after all.”

Roy nods. “You fucking get it. Jamie tried to feed me this fucking bullshit that I was fucking number one.”

“Jamie!” you say. “Everyone knows it goes Sam, then Isaac, then Roy.”

Jamie puts his hands up defensively.

“Honesty,” Roy says, “Such an admirable quality. Remind me again why you’re with this fucking prick?”

You pretend to think for a moment then say, “For his money.”

Jamie says “Oi!” so you quickly amend, “And his smokin’ hot body.”

Jamie nods, satisfied. “That’s better.”

Roy is looking at Jamie in disgust. “You two are so fucking adorable, it’s fucking disgusting. C’mon Bea. I see Sam over by that bench. Let’s give these fucking idiots some time alone.”

You and Jamie turn to each other.

“He said we’re adorable,” you say, grinning.

“He said we get alone time,” Jamie says, grinning back.

“Roy!” you call, “how much time do we have?”

“Three hours!” Sam yells back. “I want to walk Bea to my restaurant!”

You and Jamie turn back to each other, giddy.

“You know what that means,” you say.

“Sex,” he replies immediately.

You laugh and grab his hand. “C’mon, babe. Let’s enjoy our alone time.”

As you walk away, Jamie says, “Oi, need to tell you about these girls who were trying to flirt with me. But don’t worry, I gave them the finger.” He holds up his ring finger and you slap his arm.

“This is why I love you.”

“Really? And here I only thought you were with me for my money,” he replies.

“And your hot body. Don’t forget that one,” you say.

“How could I forget?” he says. “When we get home, let’s put it to some good use.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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alexa-fika · 5 months ago

Note

HEYYY IF UR TAKE REQUEST BUT I WAS WONDERING IF U COULD DO MORE OF RAYLEIGH AND THIS IF HE COULD BE LIKE A SINGLE DAD WHO LATER MET SHAKKY AND MAKE IT SUPER FLUFFY

Advice at the Bar ( Shakky x m!child!reader x Rayleigh)

A/N- Okay I don’t know if I achieved it but I think I did it, what we think about this one ya’ll(also drop more headcannons in my asks so we can exchange ideas)

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for reader in japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

“Please, Miss! I just need to hide for a bit!”

Shakky simply smiled at them, leaning against the bar’s counter to talk to the small boy better.

“What exactly are you hiding from?”

“From Papa!”

“I don’t believe a young man like you should be running away from their parents,” she said, looking away to blow a small wisp of smoke.

“Please, my Dad is being really mean,” he cried, kneeling on the stool and leaning closer to the woman.

“Is that so? Can I inquire on what he did?”

“He won’t let me use swords even though my brothers used swords; I want to fight like my uncles and Papa!”

“Let me ask you something, how old are your brothers?” She asked with a smile

“Umm, they are big.”

“I see. Do you want to know a secret?”

“What is it?” He asked excitedly

“I think your Father is looking out for you.”

“No way! He’s being mean; he lets big brothers use fancy swords, but he won’t let me!” He protested, slamming his hands on the counter

“I may not know him, but from what you’re saying, I believe he is probably worried. Real swords are not toys, and they require lots of training before you can freely use one. Like any parent, he would be distressed if something were to happen to you.”

“Distressed?” He questioned

“Sad, your Dad would be sad if you got hurt because he failed to watch out for you,” she explained.

“He’s probably worried right now with you running off.”

“Ah! I don’t want to worry, Papa! I don’t want him to be sad,” he cried, tears pooling in his eyes at the thought of putting his father in such a state.

“I know you don’t,” she smiled, putting her hand on his head to calm him down.

“Why don’t you try talking to him? Perhaps you can come to an agreement where you can practice and be safe.”

He beams at her, rubbing his eyes as a grin grows on his young face at the idea of being able to train with his father.

“There you are, Dokucha.” A voice calls behind him

“Papa!” he exclaimed, running to the man

“What’s this? I thought you were mad at me?” He questioned, lifting him up and leaning him on his hip

“I’m sorry, Papa,” they sobbed, crying against him.

“W-What are you on about? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” he asked hurriedly, looking over the boy for any injuries.

“I-I’m sorry I screamed at you; I’m sorry that I ran away!”

“Is that what this is about?” Rayleigh asked, relazing his stance as a small smile broke on his face

“Yeah... Miss told me that you were just worried about me; I’m sorry I got angry. I just want to be like you and uncles,” he mumbled, only to whine moments later when Rayleigh flickered his head.

“Why did you do that, Papa?!” he asked, a betrayed look on their face.

“Because you are an idiot, you need to start listening to me better. I never said you couldn’t use swords; I said you weren’t ready for real swords, so we need to start with wooden ones.”

“Oh”

“Yeah, oh, next time, finish listening before you take off running,” he said, putting him in a headlock and giving him a noogie.

“Agh Papa stooop!” they whined, trying to wiggle their way out.

“You had this one coming, you little rascal,” he laughed as he eventually stopped his action.

“Let’s make a deal; tell me more about this Miss you talked about, and I’ll let you off the hook.” he proposed, smiling as he agreed and finally released him from his grasp.

“Miss works here!” Dokucha exclaimed, gesturing to the bar they stood at, pulling his father closer to the bar

“Close but not quite, Dear,” Shakky spoke up as the two approach.

“I’m the owner of this place.”

“She’s the owner of this place,” Dokucha repeats, looking at his dad, ignoring the amused glances the two sent his way

“Umm, miss, what’s your name?” He whispered as he jumped into the stool and leaned closer to her

“I’m Shakuyaku, but you can call me Shakky,” she replied with a small laugh.

“Dad, this is Shakky!” the small boy announced, turning to his father.

“It’s a Pleasure to meet you, madam. I’ve heard you’ve been keeping an eye on my boy. I hope he hasn’t given you trouble.”

“Oh, he was anything, but we got to talk a little; nice boy you and your wife have raised,” she commented.

“Oh no, there is no wife.”

“I see; I’m sorry for my assumption,” she said with a smile, looking far from apologetic.

“Could I bother you for a beer?”

“Oh? Are you certain? My prices are far from low.”

“I’m sure I can handle it.”

“Miss Shakky, this is-

“Rayleigh,” she finishes, a knowing smile on her face as she lets out another cloud of smoke, lets her lips and puts a mug of beer in front of him.

“Oh? So you know of me?” he said, taking a hold of the drink and taking a gulp out of it.

“Only a fool would not recognize Silvers Rayleigh.”

“And you look anything but a fool, madam,” he grins, leaning on the bar of the counter.

Dokucha looked between the two, watching as his father kept throwing sweet words at the woman.

“Miss Shakky, are you going to be my Mom?”

“DOKUCHA!” Rayleigh shrieked, choking on his drink

Said child, letting out a string of mischievous laughs as he ran off, his father not far behind after leaving his apologies to the bar owner.

“Oh, you’re gonna get it now, you Rascal,” He hollered.

Thoughts?

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

#one piece #rayleigh x child! reader #rayleigh x shakky #rayleigh x male reader #shakkyx reader #shakky x child!reader #shakky x reader #shakky #shakuyaku x child!reader #shakuyaku #one piece x child!reader #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece fluff

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feyhunter78 · 6 months ago

Text

Chapter Ten - In the cold light of day, many things are bound to change.

Ch 11

The drinks had addled his mind, but not as much as the scent of you, the feel of you, the taste of you has. He wishes to taste you again, and again, to hear you scream his name, to feel your teeth bite down on him, marking him as your own.

You drew blood, his ferocious lioness, broke the skin of his arm, marked him well. He hopes it stays, if not he will have to bring you to climax again and again until it does.

Jon curls his arm around you, basking in the warmth of your skin, in the way you draw nonsensical shapes on his chest. Your hands are so soft, your nails perfect, there has never been dirt or blood under them, and no callouses cover your palms. Those very palms which he brings to his lips, kissing them reverently. The sun shines down on you, the call of the morning birds floating in through your open window.

“Now, will you tell me who got you drunk?” You ask, smiling at him with the radiance of the sun.

“Both had a hand in it, though I must admit the presence of Joffrey did not help matters.”

You sit up, the smile slipping from your face, a storm cloud pulled over the sun. “You must leave, now, now Jon, back to your post.” You slide from the bed and gather his tunic and your stockings, throwing the flimsy fabric under the bed and his tunic to him, then you rummage around for a night shift, quickly slipping behind a folding screen and changing.

He pulls his tunic on, just in time for the knock at the door, your aunt’s voice calling through the door.

“Dear y/n, are you awake?” Her voice is sickly sweet, and it makes his head ache.

You grab a robe and wrap it around your night shift, throwing yourself into a chair by the long dead fire, pretending you had been reading.

Jon opens the door, giving the Dowager Queen a bow, ignoring the way the world spins as he lifts his head once more.

“Aunt Cersei, is there something I can help you with?” You ask, looking up at her with an undeniable air of innocence.

She scans the room, her eyes narrowing at Jon. “Leave us.”

Jon bristles, but at your nod leaves, taking his post up at the door, looking around before pressing his ear to the crack in the wood.

“Is it not odd that he spends so much time in your chambers?” He hears your aunt ask.

“I do not think so, Uncle Jamie spends much time with you in your chambers, and that is not odd.” You say, your voice light, your tone cheery.

“We are siblings y/n, of course it is not.” Cersei’s words have ice threaded within, and Jon bites back a laugh. You always know just what card to play.

“People will talk y/n, you must stamp out this childish affection you have for him, it will scare away potential suitors.” She scolds, her heels clicking as she moves about the room.

“If it scares them away then they are clearly easily frightened, I do not wish to marry a coward.”

“Do not confuse jealousy with cowardice, sweet girl.”

“I am not.”

“Do not think me a fool, I know it is enjoyable to take a guard to bed, but you are unmarried still, you cannot take such risks.”

He lurches away from your door, leaning against the wall, his head spinning. When was the last time he had drank so much? Surely it has been years, and the occasional glass of wine he has with you was clearly not enough to keep up his tolerance.

It is hot in the hall, his skin feels feverish, and he pushes up the sleeves of his tunic, before realizing how it exposes the bite mark on his arm. He strokes his fingertips over the skin, smiling to himself. Then the guilt comes, barreling towards him like a battering ram. What has he done? Stripped you nearly bare, feasted upon you, and marked you like a savage. What was he thinking? Shame comes next, overtaking the heat lingering from the alcohol, coloring his skin, and worsening the pounding in his head.

He needs to apologize. As soon as Cersei has left your chambers, he will do so. Will ask that you forgive him, that you pretend it had never happened, he was so close, too close, dangerously close to taking more than a simple taste. If you had asked him to bed you? He does not think his strength of will would have held. Perhaps if he was sober. But then he never would have done as he had without the courage gifted to him by an overindulgence of spirits.

He stands behind you as all gathered watch Margaery and Joffrey join hands, smiling and laughing at the players. You pick at your food, your hair curled gracefully, your wrists, fingers, neck, and ears adorned with jewels, a show of wealth, of power by your father.

“Do try to eat, My Lady, or you will not have the stamina for dancing.” He urges softly. It is not dancing he fears you will not have the stamina for, but placating Joffrey. It is his wedding; all must bow and grovel before him.

You do as he asks, averting your eyes when the dancers make a mockery of your father, of his injury during the Battle of Blackwater.

Margaery’s laughter rings high and clear at something Joffrey says, and a dislike for the woman grows in his chest. He knows she is playing a part, but could she play it in a way that does not worsen your pain?

Gifts are brought out, swords, books, gold, jewelry, spices, all tossed aside by Joffrey who demands more and more. It is not until the gifts have run out, and the music begins again, does Joffrey call for you.

You approach the head table, curtsying and congratulating him on his wedding.

“Cousin, I noticed I did not receive a gift from you.” Joffrey says, toying with a wine glass in his hand.

You put on a secretive smile, your mask slipping into place. “Ah, yes well, I gave it to your Lady Wife directly, it is for after the wedding.”

He laughs, beckoning you further forward, his arms outstretched. “A loyal subject you are cousin, your generosity is noted.”

You return his embrace easily, placing a kiss on his cheek. “Your happiness is my own, My King.”

“I shall have to return your generosity. I know my mother spoke to you about lining up some new suitors for you, after the wedding celebrations have finished, I will send out a notice to all our bannermen.”

You blink in surprise but keep a radiant smile on your face. “I thank you, but please do not rush your festivities for me.”

Jon can see the ease in your form when Margaery embraces you as well, holding you a moment longer than needed before pulling back with a bright smile. “You honor us, dear cousin.”

“I hope she strangles him with my gift.” You grumble, once you are far enough away from the head table, smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles in your gown.

“Her arms are far too small, perhaps her brother will do it for her.” Jon jests, pride swelling in his chest at your small smile.

He watches as you dance, catching your eye mid-twirl, your fingertips barely brushing against your partner’s. You look so beautiful, and he is impatient, bouncing slightly on his heels, knowing that he has claimed your next dance. The song ends and Jon wastes no time, nodding at your previous partner and taking your hand in his, falling in step with you as the music swells, a new song beginning.

“You did not tell me your aunt spoke of new suitors.” He says, his fingers splayed on your midback, hidden among the throng of dancers no one will see.

“I did not because it will not come about, she will forget, or my father will dissuade her.” You say, leaving his arms for a moment to spin out, your skirts flaring around your ankles like waves, the fabric a muted red, the embroidery golden, but duller. It is more bronze, catching the sunlight in a way that reminds him of Grey Wind’s eyes.

You spin back into him, and his hands ghost over your hips before returning to their proper place. “Let us pray he succeeds.”

You smile, a true smile, he knows you love dancing, that it lightens your heart. “If he does not, then will many houses lose their sons? Your blade will taste blood once more?”

He cannot help but smile back, leaning into your game as he lifts you in time with the others. Your weight is nothing, a mere feather to him, and for a moment you look like a goddess suspended in the air. “Yes, I suspect you will find me far more bloodthirsty than before if I must stand by and watch little lordlings fall all over themselves to impress you.”

You giggle, and brush your fingers over his forearm, where the imprint of your teeth still remains, much to his delight. “I think I am perfectly capable of enduring a bout of blood thirst from you.”

He goes to retort, to teasingly call you a little minx, his personal temptress, his beloved and beautiful tormentor, when a giant pie is wheeled out before Joffrey and Margaery.

You stop, along with most of the other dancers, to watch as Joffrey cuts into the pie, doves scatter into the air and servants whisk plates of pie around. A plate is set before your place at the table, from the spot Joffrey had cut into, and you pick it up, but decline another other on Jon’s behalf.

“Perhaps I wished for a slice of pie, My Lady?” He teases, his voice low, mindful of those around you.

“You will not like it; the latticing is flavored with almond oil.” You take a bite, then wrinkle your nose. “Gods, that is awful, and I like almonds.”

His heart lurches in his chest. You remember he does not like almonds. He had said it only once, during his first year in your service, and yet you remembered.

“Now you see why I avoid them.”

You put your plate down and took a sip of your wine to wash out the taste.

Then Margaery screams, the sound shattering the merry ambiance, startling the wine glass from your hand. Joffrey is choking, his face turning red then purple, his hands at his throat as Margaery screams again. Jon faintly hears Lady Olenna Tyrell’s call for aid, then Joffrey falls, crashes into the table, his face and fine doublet covered in pie. The kingsguard rush forward, the maester as well, lifting the boy-king as Cersei’s eyes sweep around the room. Accusations are flying around the room until finally someone is able to escort the Dowager Queen away.

You sit frozen, your eyes locked on Joffrey, your gown splattered with wine. A flash of gold, Tommen, Jon notes, darts past, unnoticed by you.

“Ser Jon, escort my daughter back to her chambers.” Tyrion orders, his hand on Ser Jamie’s forearm, the far taller man leaning on his brother and the table for support.

Ser Loras has gathered Margaery up in his arms, guiding his sister away from her deceased husband. The guests, still frightened and confused, arguing amongst themselves as the kingsguard try and fail to calm them.

“Tommen, where is Tommen?” Ser Jamie asks, his eyes wide, wild with fright as he vaults over the table.

That startles you into action, and you follow him, screaming your cousin’s name.

Jon moves to follow as well, but Tyrion’s hand on his calf stops him. “Jamie will protect her, if need be, the wheel has already begun to turn.”

His heart is in his throat, hands clenching and unclenching, his eyes constantly moving, scanning the Great Hall.

Finally, you reappear, Ser Jamie at your side, Tommen in his arms, the boy’s face red and wet with tears. You coo over him, his smaller hand in yours as you walk back to the side table, keeping Joffrey’s body out of Tommen’s sight.

Tommen is eight namedays old, but he looks younger held in his father’s arms.

“We should retire to the Queen’s solar; our family must stand together if we are to survive this tragedy.” Ser Jamie says grimly, his jaw set, his eyes a dark shade of emerald like yours are filled to the brim with unspoken emotion.

“Well said, Brother, the pride must stand together.” Tyrion says, giving Tommen a small smile.

Jon falls behind you and your family, hand on the pommel of his sword. Was this part of the plan? He cannot imagine Lord Tyrion would poison his own nephew, no matter how horrid the boy-king was.

The Dowager Queen’s wailing could be heard through the door, and Ser Jamie passes Tommen off to you, the boy now on his feet sniffling, and holding onto your skirts.

“Allow me a moment.” Ser Jamie says softly, easing the door open and slipping inside.

You smooth down Tommen’s hair. “It is alright.”

Tommen nods solemnly, far too solemnly for a child so young. “Now it is.”

You bite your lip and look up towards the ceiling, tears collecting on your lashes.

Jon longs to reach out, to comfort you, but he cannot, not here, not now.

The door to the Dowager Queen’s solar cracks open, and one by one the Lannisters head inside. Jon moves to join you, but Ser Jamie stops him, taking a step further into the hall and closing the door behind him.

“Jon, if I might speak frankly with you?” Ser Jamie looks down at his boots, his eyes red.

“Aye.” A pit forms in his stomach.

“I am sorry.”

“For what, Ser Jamie?”

The eldest Lannister purses his lips, a habit of yours as well, one Jon has never known where it came from, but now he does. “I have not done right by you; I have encouraged you to make the wrong choices.”

If a woman is your heart’s desire, then it matters not if she is married, if you are, if you have vows or codes preventing you. A man must always seize his heart’s desire lest he dies never having known, never having even tried.

Ser Jamie’s words to him those many nights ago as they shared drinks and stories had emboldened him, given him the strength to go to your chambers and act.

“Honor, duty, it will keep your head attached to your neck, and it will keep your heart in your chest where it belongs.” He places his hand on Jon’s shoulder. “I like you Jon, you are a good man, an even better swordsman, but she is my niece…”

“I would never dishonor her.” Jon says, and it is true, he would not, he had slipped, overly indulged himself, but soon Tyrion would announce your betrothal, and his actions would not seem dishonorable, not even in his memories.

Ser Jamie’s grip on his shoulder tightens, and he looks Jon in the eyes, a desperation in them. “I know you will try not to, but y/n is a Lannister, she is more my sister her aunt, than her mother. They are persuasive, stubborn, and beautiful, many men have fallen at their feet, many more will. Ensure you are not one of them, not again.”

“You know?” Jon asks, before he can stop the foolish words from escaping.

“I all but sent you to her that night, I wanted…” He looks away, and Jon is struck by the shame, the agony he sees in the older man’s expression. “I wanted her to know what it is like to be loved. My sister will marry her off to a wealthy house, it is what she thinks best for y/n and there can be no promise of love in her marital bed, but with you? I can see you love her Jon, and I fear she returns your affections, so I hoped that perhaps one night would be enough to sustain her in her years to come. I did not think of the consequences.”

“I did not take her maidenhood.”

Shock ripples across Ser Jamie’s face.

“I will not chance leaving her with a bastard, I will not tarnish her name.”

Ser Jamie’s head drops, a sigh of relief audibly flowing through him. “You are a good man, Jon Snow. Better than I.”

“My Lady speaks of you fondly; she does not think you a bad man.” Jon says, and it is true, you adore your uncle, even if what he has done with your aunt disgusts you.

Ser Jamie smiles sadly and squeezes Jon’s shoulder before he lets go. “My sweet niece, beautiful and perfect, everything like her mother in looks, but in her ability to forgive me? That is all, Tyrion, I do not deserve the grace they give me.”

“Then it rests upon your shoulder to act in a way that makes you deserving of it, does it not?”

Ser Jamie laughs, the sound hollow, stained with grief, worn down by time. “I suppose it does.”

Jon inclines his head towards the door. “Shall we?”

“I must ask you to wait out here, this is a family matter.” Ser Jamie says, his voice soft, almost apologetic.

“I understand.”

“Worry not, I am sure y/n will bite my head off for separating the two of you.” Ser Jamie then gives him a smile and pulls open the door, disappearing inside.

TL: @mostclevermiss, @solacestyles, @2valentines, @sharknutz, @idohknow, @bdudette, @pluraldoggo

#meg's writing #jon snow imagine #jon snow x y/n #jon snow x reader #jon snow x you #lannister!reader #jon snow

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marymary-diva17 · 10 months ago

Text

Our human mom

Jake x reader x neytiri + sully kids and spider

The omatacyia clan was one of the few clans that could be deemed as a rare or very strange, as they had sky people apart of their clan. When everyone else had thought the ones from the sky were all long gone or with the rda. That was not all true was you and many others are loyal to the navi and had been able to make a new life here on pandora, along with being embraced by the great mother as well.

y/n " so you are telling us that we have to stay hidden for the gather of the clan here"

neytiri " no we don't mean it like that ma y/n we are not ashamed of you and the others"

y/n " well Jake made it seem like that jarhead"

Jake " honey bunny I'm sorry and I mean no harm but you are mostly human at times and so his half of the base, and we don't have enough time to get everyone to do the eyes of eywa"

y/n " ........"

Jake " oh come on you can't keep on ignore me I know you love me" Jake soon picked you up and was now looking you in the eyes, he gave you his usual smirk.

y/n " I understand but I hate being away from the family and clan like this"

Jake " it will be only a week some of the navi here have yet to trust humans"

neytiri " yes and they have yet to open their eyes and see that you been blessed by the great mother"

y/n " okay but put me down you fool"

Jake " what if I don't want to" Jake and neytiri are laughing at you as you looked at them, Jake soon settled you back down as you look at him.

y/n " so what is the kids reaction to this whole thing"

Jake and neytiri " ........"

y/n " don't tell me you haven't told them yet wow that wrong"

Jake " oh come on they will understand the situation"

y/n " then you are fool for not knowing our kids"

Jake " there nothing we can't handle we will tell them and they will understand"

y/n " okay whatever you say" Jake and neytiri had spent some of the day with you until they were called away, to take care of their responsibilities and what need to be cover for the gathering.

Later that day

??? " mama" you soon heard a loud voice calling you and it belong to lo'ak.

y/n " over here my dear"

lo'ak " did you hear what dad and mom are doing for the gather, not allowing you to be there along with uncle norm, spider, and max everyone else as well that human"

y/n " yes I ....."

????? " mama dad is being a complete fool a fool" soon kiri had came into the room as well and she was mad.

spider " it no fair why can't I come as well I'm a member of the clan aren't I" soon spider had followed shortly after as well he was mad as now, so now it was three mad teenagers.

tuk " mama why can't you be at the gathering with us it no fair no fair" soon tuk came into the room looking upset as well and she hate, the situation.

y/n " everyone clam ...."

neteyam " Weill you all relax you haven't given mama time to talk at all" the four kids had soon clam down when neteyam had entered the room.

y/n " thank you my son look I know we are all mad about the situation, but it need to happen for now for the safety and well b being of the clan"

lo'ak " mama"

y/n " this gather will make new alliance that will be beneficial in the end, and if I have to miss that I will do that if good for the youth of the clan"

kids " yes ma'am"

kiri " then I will have a protest and stay here with you and spider"

y/n " you are totally your mother daughter kiri I love your support, but all your kids need to attend"

lo'ak " not all of us neteyam can go and we will be good"

neteyam " hey"

y/n " no all of you are the children are the children of torku makto so you will be needed there, to stand as family until together if not for you dad do it for me"

lo'ak " okay mama I will do it for you but why are you not mad"

y/n " oh I'm mad but mostly at your dad on how she worded the situation, but that man has fail on wording stuff in situation at time but he still a good person.... look once everything is good maybe we will be at the next meeting"

kiri " yes mama"

y/n " good and I will need you all to go and report back to me as well"

spider " yeah you have to tell us everything you see as I will be bored here"

y/n " no you will not your will have task, studies, and this base to keep you busy for a week when they are gone" s

spider " really aunt y/n"

y/n " well have to play our part but you can still talk with them as well" the kids soon smiled as it seems like they clam down from their anger towards Jake and the situation of the gathering at the moment.

y/n " now when you are all away at this gather I will need you all on your best behavior"

kids " yes ma'am"

spider " haha"

y/n " I mean all of you even you young man even due you are staying here, I will need you to come home on time no sleeping outside"

spider " yes ma'am"

lo'ak " busted"

y/n " lo'ak"

lo'ak " sorry mama"

y/n " you are all going to have a wonderful time and I know you will do well"

tuk " yes mama I will make you ppruf by being a big girl and not needing a baby sitter"

y/n " I know you will baby girl" tuk had wonder off as you soon looked at the older kids.

y/n " keep an eye on her and help her"

neteyam " we will mama" The kids had stayed with you for the rest of the day before Jake had come to collect them for bedtime, a few days later they all left for the gathering after packing up their stuff. Even due they are some upset kids they soon understood it will, only be a few days until they saw their human/avatar parents and friends again. Even if you and the others were not there to be apart of the gathering the clan still, found a way to make sure you all were apart of the festivities and seen as members of the clan. While they are all away you all made sure to keep the forest and village safe from any harm.

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issa-pheonyx · 1 year ago

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Yandere!Lord Dimitrescu&Sons X Fem!Reader [Part 1]

𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗺𝗮𝘆 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗮 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗱𝗲𝗽𝗲𝗻𝗱𝘀 𝗼𝗻 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗴𝗼𝗲𝘀 𝗶𝗳 𝗽𝗲𝗼𝗽𝗹𝗲 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆 𝗶𝘁. 𝗜𝗳 𝗶𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀 𝗜 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗯𝗲 𝗮𝗱𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘀. 𝗔𝗹𝘀𝗼, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝗮𝗯𝗶𝗹𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗮𝘀 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 (𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗻), 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗴𝘁𝗵 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗲𝗱, 𝗿𝗲𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 ��𝗱𝗱 𝗮 𝗯𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗲 𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺 𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗜 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝗶𝘁 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗯𝗲 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 (𝗜'𝗺 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗜'𝗺 𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗹𝗮𝗱𝘆 𝗱𝗶𝗺𝗶𝘁𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗰𝘂 𝗴𝗶𝗳𝘀, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗶 𝗴𝗼𝘁)🤭🌚 Part 2

▌│█║▌║▌║ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ ║▌║▌║█│▌

It seems like being the only daughter came to an end when Rosemary was born and developed a quick favorite too. You wanted to hate your sister so much, but you couldn't. She wasn't at fault it was Ethan and Mia (so you thought to be...). Maybe it was, because you were the easily ill type in which your mother, Mia, was giving you medicine. Lots of vaccine shots. As a child you didn't think much of it, but as you grew older. Now hitting your eighteenth. You realize it was very strange. You didn't need that much vaccine shots as a child. Mia always told you that you were just built different. I mean just let it go and believe it. She's your mother, she's always telling you the truth...right?

However, after witnessing uncle Chris intruding the home and shooting your mother in front of Ethan distinctly traumatized you (you hid by the stairs watching below). Once they saw you take baby Rosemary away and Ethan trying to stop them. Chris declines his resistance and when he caught you watching he nods at his crew. You notice two of them were going upstairs. This terrified you as you were next to be taken away. "(Y/N)!! No, Chris what the hell-don't touch her!" How rare it is for your father, Ethan, to sound so protective of you.

But, right now is not the time to find it a warming moment as you whimper when they catch you. Both hooking their arms under your pits. "Got her, captain." Your eyes widen in absolute terror, body trembling, color on your face going lighter, and chills. You thought you were going to die. "NO!! Not her! Chris, please-" That's when one of the soldiers beside him knocked him out by the butt of his rifle. "Father!" You screeched. Everyone winced in pain and when recovering they became puzzled and concerned from that sudden impact of your scream. The bastards who attempt to maintain their grip on you, you budge your arms running to your father only to be knocked out too

You didn't know how long you were knocked out, but you woke up freezing your ass off. But, smothered in the snow. You panicked as you try to stand, but there was so much snow. You cried in fear and flail your body only for the snow to deepen. However, you made it out really quick...but, not for the others it seems like a major crash happened. Body buried deep in the snow, some were ripped to shreds-a bear attack? Of course not it is snowing. There's no way, they have to be hibernating at this point. "Rest assured, dear (Y/N). You are safe, but it is best if you follow me." A woman's voice was heard from afar

"Who are you?" You asked as the figure starts to walk away. "Hey! Hold on! Who are you and how do you know my name!?" You run your legs through the deep snow-more like speed walking as if it is nothing-that the wind grew more intense and the freezing gusts hits you as you had to keep wiping off the snow from your body. "Follow my voice. You will find the village quickly." Village? Located in a village?

The snow and wind itself deepens and worsens. You squint your eyes to focus hard on the vision of this mysterious shadow woman. The snowstorm goes stronger as you can't see her at all. "Hello!? I need help!" No answer as you let yourself down on your knees. You were tired of chasing who it was as the cold snow was making you sleepy. The last thing you saw and heard was the mysterious lady getting close to you and said,"Let the ceremony commence."

𝗧𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴! 𝗜 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝘁. 𝗠𝘆 𝘂𝗽𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗱𝗼 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮 𝗳𝗮𝗶𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴. 𝗦𝗹𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹~🖤🫣

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flowercrowngods · 11 months ago

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Said I’ll go blind. Or deaf. Or just… die.

“H— Hello, Mrs Buckley? This is, uh. I’m. A friend of Robin’s, could you, uh—“

“Of course, dear,” the woman says, and Eddie feels his eyes beginning to prick with how nice she sounds even through the phone.

Does she know Steve, too? Would she worry if she knew? Would she curse Eddie for not taking him to the hospital right away? Would she blame him if anything happened?

“I’m sorry? What did you say your name was?” she asks, repeating herself apparently.

He blanks, for a whole five seconds, before he spots a note stuck to the fridge saying Don’t forget to eat, Eddie :-)

“Eddie,” he croaks. “Uh, Eddie Munson.”

“Alright, Eddie Munson, I’ll see if I can grab Robin for you. You have a good day, dear, yes?”

No. “Thanks.”

The hand clenched in his hair pulls tighter and tighter until the tears fall and he can pretend it’s from pain and not from— whatever the fuck is happening.

He drops to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest and reaching for the phone again.

“Hi.”

“What do you want? How’d you even get this number? I swear, if you—“

“It’s Blue. I mean, Steve. Harrington.”

That shuts her right up, and Eddie clenches his eyes shut for a moment, hoping to keep the tremor out of his voice if only he takes a moment to breathe.

The moment stretches. And Robin’s voice is wary and quiet when she speaks again.

“What about Steve.”

Eddie rubs his face, leaving more dirt and grime to fill the tear tracks, and clenches his fist before his mouth.

“Eddie,” Robin demands, dangerous now. Nothing left of the rambling, bubbling mess he knows her to be on the school hallways. “What. About. Steve.”

“He… He’s hurt.”

There’s a bit of a commotion on the other end, before Robin declares, “I’m coming over. You tell me everything.”

“You— I mean, he’s in the hospital with my uncle, so—“

“I am. Coming. Over. And you tell me everything.”

Eddie finds himself nodding along, knowing intuitively that there is nothing that could stop her now.

“‘Kay.”

The next second, she’s hung up on him and Eddie is greeted by the flatline again. He lets out a shuddering breath and leans his head back against the wall.

🤍🌷 sneak peek of who did this to you pt. 3 (part 1 | part 2)

#steddie fic #steddie #who did this to you #i am battling this writers block or so help me!!

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 1 year ago

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Can Jay read me to sleep pls? Family holidays mean I need comfort

Same. This fucking blows. Here's not that, but some Jason anyway.

"Stephanie," Dick said taking a head count of the assembled ladies in the party, "where is Y/N? We seem to be missing one particularly charming beauty-"

"Is she not-" Stephanie looked around the crush and bit her lip, "Oh dear."

Dick traded looks with Tim as Cass glanced at Jason who's Jaw had tensed as he scanned the crowd. "What happened?"

"She must have stepped away for a moment. She said she wasn't feeling well and Miss Vivian and Mr. Graham- you know how very proud they are of their library-"

Jason felt his heart kick up a notch. The Library. Right next to the room where a bunch of lecherous old fools and idiotic young dandies would be drowning their common sense and their manners at the gaming tables with appalling amounts of alcohol. And you were by yourself?

That would never do. Before he could think, or even grab one of his sisters to drag with him, he's gone. Not entirely sure how or why he feels like you need to be protected but. Hell if he's going to let some old codger ruin you and then make you out to be a scheming little harlot.

He wound his way up the stairs and through the hall, forcing himself not to run. But the relief that washed over him when he realized you were still alone- it was short-lived.

"Y/N?" he called softly. The room was dim but for a the moon and the streetlamp's light coming through the window. "Are you-"

"I'm quite alright, I just- I'm sorry, Mr. Todd. I'll rejoin the party in a moment."

Jason edged closer the the sound of your voice, leaving the door ajar and took a deep breath. You didn't sound alright. You sounded desperately unhappy. And it needled. "Jason," he corrected, gently.

"I-I don't think-"

"I think," he said, forcing himself to keep his tone light as he worked toward your voice, "That my sisters will never stop scolding me if I don't give you permission to just call me Jason." You'd tucked yourself in a dark little corner, obviously intending to have a little cry, a sulk, or maybe just... a moment's peace but. He couldn't feel bad about interrupting you.

Not when you looked so much like a painting. Three weeks since he'd seen you. And all he could think about was how lovely you would look with a garnet necklace. And some less gentlemanly part of his brain added 'and nothing else'. Making him grateful for the darkness in the room so you couldn't see him blush.

"If you're sure-"

"Quite sure," he said, kneeling in front of your chair and offering a fresh handkerchief. "Don't cry, wildflower," he said, "Whatever it is-"

"It seems like every time we talk all I do is cry or faint," you murmur.

"Sometimes you make very funny jokes," he said. "Did someone ruin your slippers? Do I need to send Stephanie after them?"

"No I-" You break off and shake your head, "It's not serious. I shouldn't trouble you with it I just. I guess I'm being foolish-"

Before he could stop himself Jason gripped your free hand and bent his head to kiss it, "If you were being foolish you'd be crying in front of everyone and causing a scene," he said. He didn't add that you were foolish to be alone. Not now. Not when he was so close and the room was so quiet you hardly needed to do more than whisper. "Tell me?"

"I-it's going to sound so terrible."

"I promise it won't." Last night he'd tracked a murder suspect. And the night before he'd had to question a grieving widow.

"I- my Aunt and Uncle have decided that I'm to pay them back for my room and board. Which means that at the end of this Season I'll have no money and I just- what else is there?"

And when you start to cry in earnest, hiding your face in your hands, trying to make yourself smaller for comfort, Jason feels his heart twist. "Don't cry," he pleaded. "What else is there? Wildflower-" He stopped and pulled your hands from your face, tilting your chin up carefully and as he wiped your face, he couldn;t help it.

The air was thick. So heavy and full of the scent of your perfume that if he didn't do something- anything- Before he knew it his lips were claiming yours.

Not as tenderly as he wanted. Or as chastely. But when you squeak in surprise and then... melt. He can't stop. He just can't. You taste exactly as good as you smell. And your lips- like ripe, sweet fruit. All he can do is keep going.

And it's not untl he hears a crash that anything else registers at all.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #ask answered #minors dni #reader insert #gaslamp!Au

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look-at-the-soul · 7 months ago

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Hola, Mar! ❤️❤️.

I'm here to sending you a request. Tommy telling his kids (it can be both of them, or just Charlie or just Ruby) a story about his mother. We know he didn't have good memories about her especially because what happened, but maybe, he remembered something maybe a bedtime story (or a recipe, music, etc) and he tells them about her. The kids didn't know her, but after that moment maybe they can imagine how their grandma was ❤️.

My dear Flor @justrainandcoffee thank you so much for sending this request!!!! I knew I had to make it extra special since it’s part of my Grandma’s series 👵🏻♥️✨ so I didn’t want to rush it. This made me go back in time to our endless sleepovers, it made me think of her. I hope you enjoy this 💕

Special thanks to @blondie-22 for creating the BEAUTIFUL moodboard, like always you capture the exact essence of the story 🥰

Edit: A/N part of this story is inspired by a song called Toy Soldier by Martika

Word count 1,172

Toy Soldier

The bedroom door cracked louder than Tommy expected, he cursed himself internally because it was late and the house was quiet, the last thing he needed was to wake up his wife.

But she was already up and leaned against the window, the shadow of her frame only visible under the moonlight. Frowning, he stopped taking off his suit jacket midway when he noticed something was under the blankets of his bed.

“Why are you up?” He whispered.

“Charlie’s having trouble with bedtime.” She replied back. “He thinks there’s a monster under his bed.” She then added but also gave him a warning look so he better wouldn’t laugh it off.

“There’s no such thing.”

“They wanted to sleep here for reassurance.” Y/N placed her hands on his chest to lean in for a quick kiss. “He was so scared last night.”

“Daddy?” Ruby’s small voice broke the silence of the room.

Charlie stirred and his eyes fluttered open.

“Go back to sleep.” Tommy urged them.

“There’s a monster under my bed, I heard noises.” Charlie assured him.

Sitting next to his son, Tommy caressed his blonde hair in a loving way.

“I can assure you there’s no monster under your bed, son.” Tommy explained in a calmed tone.

“But I heard…”

Tommy shook his head gently, knowing it was a good time to share a fond memory that suddenly hit him hard. After being pushed back to the farthest place of his mind for years…

“You’ve nothing to worry about,” Tommy assured his boy, then turning to face Y/N he invited her over the bed, “you want to hear what really is?”

“I do Daddy.” Ruby replied while Charlie nodded.

“It’s the toy soldier.” Tommy assured his kids. Then clearing his throat he continued. “All toys come up to life around three in the morning, when the house is quiet and you and your sister are sleeping, they start playing by themselves. But when you wake up, they stop because you must not see them.”

His voice and the fabulous tale he was narrating had both his children and Y/N captivated.

“But how do you know?” Charlie asked trying to understand.

Tommy raised his eyebrows, taking his time to explain it properly.

“Well, that’s ‘cause when I was about your age, I heard noises in my room too.”

Y/N noticed the emotions shining in his eyes and his voice.

“And you had toys like mine?” Charlie asked but Tommy shook his head.

“No, I had a horse made of wood, uncle Charlie made it for me.”

Ruby was in awe. “Like a real horse?”

“Yes but a small one, I carried it everywhere.” He relaxed against the pillows, Y/N knew his childhood wasn’t easy, he was forced to mature earlier than other kids.

“So one night I was terrified and went to sleep with my Mum and she told me it was my toys playing.”

“And she told you how did she know?”

“No, she didn’t.”

And both kids went on to ask a million more questions about their grandma, a loving figure they never got the chance to meet. To Tommy this meant much more than he could put into words, he went on to describe her features, mannerisms and and few secrets, so his kids could feel her close to them in some way.

He didn’t know, but through them and their curiosity, he was healing a part of his broken heart by remembering the good moments, her legacy.

Y/N could see the way their imagination was running wild trying to put a face for such mysterious woman, trying to think of what was like to be on road forever stuck in a caravan as they said, asking how she could ride bareback a horse without falling.

Tommy rarely talked about his mother, it had always been something that was buried deep inside his heart, a very sensitive topic, Y/N knew how much it had hurt him to lose her at such young age. Not having her when he needed her the most definitely left a permanent scar in his heart. Y/N wondered how different would Tommy be under another circumstances.

And by the way he described his mother, Y/N realized he looked so much like her instead of his father, which given the circumstances, was a blessing. Although, thanks to Polly who took the role as a mother figure for the Shelby siblings, they had managed much better than if Arthur Sr. was in charge.

“Why can’t we play with them?” Asked Ruby with a deep frown.

“Because after playing with you all day, they get to work by playing, the soldier gotta watch out the fort right?” He stared at Charlie. “And your doll has to drink some more tea, ey.”

Then, a gentle smile played on his lips.

“So you gotta go to sleep to let them play, so they can enjoy their own time.”

“That’s why I heard noises.” Charlie seemed to think about it for a second.

“Yeah.” Tommy winked at them.

“But my teddy stays with me all night.” Ruby stated.

“Hmm he’s gotta take care of you.”

“Can we stay here? So they can play?” Charlie’s eyes sparkled.

Y/N nodded feeling touched by the way Tommy managed to help Charlie leave his fears behind. Loving the way his innocent mind was processing everything.

“Of course, now just let’s all squeeze in together.”Tommy proposed. Feeling Y/N’s hand touching his hand, he looked up at her.

Soon both kids were fast asleep. The story about their toys playing and making noises was the explanation they needed to hear, to feel Tommy’s reassurance.

Y/N observed her husband taking off his clothes, hiding the gun in a drawer and coming back to bed. Thinking how of course not everything is as it should be, and the kids would realize of the truth one day…but she was more than happy to enjoy that little moment in their own little bubble while it lasted.

“That was beautiful.”

He nodded in agreement. He rarely allowed himself to have moments like these, but he felt the need to open his heart with his own happy memory with his mother, gone too soon. She had missed a lot of important events in his life that he was determined to try to be there for his children.

And at least, he could honor her memory by sharing some stories like the one where the toys start playing after midnight.

Turning off the lights of their bedside tables, Tommy drifted to sleep right away and saw the image of his mother wrapping her arms around a younger version of himself protectively, answering all the questions he had about how could his horse toy could not move during the day, or how would drink water if the river was so far away… and he saw her in his dreams smiling adoringly at him before kissing the top of his head.

Grandma series

Tommy Master list

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @onlydeadcells @gretelshelby @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @elk96 @blondie-22 @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @kmc1989 @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @lauren-raines-x @everythingelseisextra @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @lau219 @red-riding-wood @ironpen @holacia3

#that’s what Cill said #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x charlie shelby #Tommy Shelby x Ruby shelby #tommy shelby fic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders fan fiction #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n

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