#the ending was like my one major concern when i first thought of this idea actually cuz the part of the song that
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astranauticus · 10 months ago
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oh i absolutely gave myself way too much of a workload this semester but holy shit i finally have like... about 80% of that orv changgwi animatic down in concept and i am. cartoon villain cackling
#asto speaks#when (yes WHEN not IF) i get it done its gonna hurt so bad#i mean i dont think it'll get done *soon* cuz god my workload this semester is. something#but if my math isnt wrong the webtoon is only gonna get to chapter 188 (where i plan to cover up to in the animatic) in like june so#ive got time?? kinda?? anyway i literally *cannot* stop thinking about this fucking idea so mark my words i will get it done#also yes its going to hurt me to make too because i havent ever done an animatic for a full song yet#changgwi is one of those songs thats kinda impossible to split up idk#also because my BEST ideas are at exactly the beginning and ending of the song. convenient.#the ending was like my one major concern when i first thought of this idea actually cuz the part of the song that#originally made me think of orv was that second (third?) verse of like the spirit telling the story of its own death that felt very yjh idk#but i just had. no idea what to do with the second half of the song#but then i read the novel and chapter 188 hit me in the back of the head with a baseball bat#and now that ending might be my favourite part of the whole project#>:)#big massive sorry to all my rwd mutuals btw i know there was a bit where i kept talking about making another rwd animatic#i do still have that sitting in my brain just cuz ive already animated a few segments of the song#i just dont reaaally have a full plan for the whole thing exactly so#by this point im just seeing if we get any DX-TR lore in s5 that might inspire me idk#project 2 electric boogaloo#stay tuned idk i have a bit of a proof of concept i plan to make this/next week#its funny actually cuz i got introduced to this song through an arknights animatic i saw on bb and i spent#honestly an embarrassing amount of time worrying if some of the ideas i have in my plan were just like. subconsciously stolen from that one#but i was like procrastinating schoolwork today and trying to plan out some stuff and just#went and looked up every changgwi animatic on bilibili i could find#and turns out the stuff i was worried id been stealing are honestly just like. common among *all* the stuff ive seen that use that song?#like cuz the official lyric video for the song is just so. stylistically *striking* a lot of genetic material from that just makes its way#into everything people make using that song like at this point the monochrome red colour scheme and like#ending on a backwards timelapse (?) through the vid is basically like scenes a faire for any changgwi animatic LMAO
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sleepydeprived · 9 days ago
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A Chance for Redemption
—A mysterious high school student appears out of the blue, bearing the face of the late Martha Wayne and puzzling even Gotham's greatest detectives.
[chapter 3]
Mama I’m Chasing A Ghost.
| Platonic!Yandere!Batfam x Reader
The floor-to-ceiling windows of my bedroom looked out onto the manicured gardens of the estate, and in the distance, was a view of Gotham that never seemed to change.
The same scenery, the same routine.
The butlers, the maids, the drivers who ferried me from one lavish location to another.
Every day was like the last, but with one major exception;
Gotham Academy
For the first time in my life, I had been thrust into a world that wasn’t mine. My mother had insisted I’d go, telling me it was for my own good. I was homeschooled my entire life, my education confined to private tutors and digital classes.
That is.. until my mother moved me to a prestigious school a few months ago. I don’t know what changed her mind. She was always so hellbent on keeping my life private. Her sweet little girl that only she knew about.
But now here I am attending a school that is closely watched by weird, content-hungry journalists and creepy paparazzis hoping to catch a photograph of children with high titles.
Nevertheless, I felt like an outsider. A puzzle that didn’t quite fit. I was the new kid—the girl who came out of nowhere.
But being an outsider didn’t automatically mean loner.
My presence didn’t go unnoticed.
I was different. People knew it, felt it, and stared. Maybe it was the fact that I came from a family—a clan—that held such an influence over Gotham’s elites. I was basically one relative away from a famous celebrity or a corrupt politician.
But, of course, there was also the resemblance to Martha Wayne.
It was a ghost of a resemblance, really, but it haunted me all the same. From the first day I stepped onto campus, I heard the whispers;
She looks like Martha Wayne.
The wife of Thomas Wayne?
She could be her daughter...
Or granddaughter.
It had started out as idle speculation, but as the days passed, the gossip only grew.
People stared, talked behind my back, and pointed at me when they thought I wasn’t looking. They didn't know me, but they had already formed an opinion. The mystery girl. The girl who had somehow, inexplicably, appeared out of nowhere. The girl who had the same smile, the same eyes, the same air of dignity and grace as Gotham’s most beloved figure. The figure whose tragic death had left an indelible mark on the city.
I had never cared for the attention. In fact, I hated it. I’m not interested in being some object of fascination, and that’s just how I was raised. I’m not Martha Wayne nor am I related to her—or at least, that’s what I’ve been told. The more people asked, the more I pushed that idea away. But the whispers were constant.
It made me think. A lot. So much more than what I preferred.
And suddenly, the buried thoughts from childhood of who and where my biological father was came rushing back.
Ever since I was a child, I had learned to bury my feelings—bury the questions about my father, and why my mother wouldn’t speak of him. There had been one conversation about it, years ago when my mother still had the time to let me in her study.
"Your father is not someone you need to concern yourself with," mother had said, her voice cold and stern. "Do not ask about him. Do not seek him. He is not a part of your life. Understand?"
And now, in the halls of Gotham Academy, that memory itched at me, more often than ever before. The bell rang, signaling the end of another school day, but I didn’t hurry to leave. I stood at my locker, staring at my reflection in the shiny surface of the metal.
Do I look like her?
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taglist:
@leeleecats @mariadvorak @deans-spinster-witch @rainlovewrites @xoacesgf @whiteoakoak @uknowimdumb @otterluver05
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 2 years ago
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ooh im glad!!! so, expanding on that then..
how about price with a civvi wife/gf, and when they’re talking over the phone while he’s gone, she’s being kinda cagey and definitely omitting something, but he doesn’t know what. so when he gets back home she tells him she’s pregnant? really just a lot of fluff (and maybe angst? 👀 like about how his job is super dangerous and he might not come home, so he has fears about it?? bc your angst is so good it makes me sob violently /pos)
ive never sent a request before, so if this is too specific or something, feel free to whittle it down or toss it, i don’t wanna bug you lol
have a good day hal, love u!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Our Remains
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Pairing: John Price x F!Reader
Synopsis: You disliked hiding things from John. Certainly something as big as this.
Word Count: 4.8k
Warnings: Pregnancy, allusions to breeding kink & unprotected seggsy time, morning sickness, angst, major fluff at the end
A/N: This was an adorable request, Anon!! Thanks so much for sending it in.
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
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You disliked hiding things from John. It not only felt like a betrayal of his unlimited trust in you but also a slap in the face for what you had built with each other. The both of you were always honest to a fault when it came to your relationship—like how a bird was loyal to the sky. It was an unselfish principle; a promise of pure love and devotion that transcended touch or given gifts.
You told each other things. Everything. Down to how much you had spent on groceries that day just because it was something to talk about and share; something that made you closer to one another even when you were apart. You told the Brit what you planted in the back garden—what shirt you were wearing!
But now you hold the ringing phone in your hand and for the first time in your entire relationship, you consider lying. 
Your eyes bore into the icon of John’s smiling face, head covered by a black beanie and beard tilted up softly. Affectionately, his name on the device had been changed to ‘Grumpy St. Bernard,’ but now the title made your lips go thin instead of the usual giggling reaction. No heat spreads over your cheeks; no excitement.
Just an overwhelming sense of dread.
The week had started just as the last three had. A special form of hell. At nearly six o’clock you would whip back the covers with all the fervor of a terrified rabbit being chased by a hawk; the taste of bile immediately snapping you to attention as the toilet acts as your commanding officer. 
You imagined John would get a chuckle out of that comparison, but when you’re hurling up your guts in nothing more than a pair of your boyfriend’s boxers and a tank top it’s hard to think about all that. The taste of bile was still lickable from your lips as the bathroom tile digs into your knees, ringing phone still in your palm. 
The idea of a pregnancy test slid into your subconscious in the first week of John’s two-month deployment, the tantalizing thought that was like a hook to a fish. You had pulled on the string, of course, and had instantly drowned in air. But you hadn’t taken one until now. Too nervous, perhaps. Hesitant. 
In your other hand, opposite of the buzzing phone, you held three positive pregnancy tests in a shaking grip. Pink and white plastic mock you from the corner of your vision; two double lines. 
John’s icon dims. 
You press the green circle in your panic, mouth opening and closing yet no sounds escaping. Would you tell him now? Later? Was it right to tell him about this now—when he was halfway across the continent? Fear overtakes your heart for no apparent reason. You didn’t want him to act rashly, especially when John could act so stubborn when he wanted to. 
He was always so concerned about you when he was away but you were concerned just the same. That man was the one who was getting shot at constantly, not you.
“Took you a while to answer. Trying to give me the slip, then, Sweetheart?” John’s gravelly voice helped slightly, making your heart still, even if for a short moment. You close your eyes and tilt your head down, lips quivering at the soft chuckle over the line.
God, you loved him so much.
Blue eyes furrowed in confusion at the silence on the line, the chilled Switzerland air sneaking inside John’s compression shirt as he stood on the hotel balcony. The sounds of gentle conversation twitch his ears from inside the room—the voices of the One-Four-One a dull mumble behind the half-closed sliding door. They had been playing cards before the Captain had easily slipped away to check up on you. 
He tried to call as often as he could. 
John’s hips shift, one arm crossed over his chest as the other presses the phone harder to his ear. Lips pull to a frown, beard bristles going with them, before the lines on the Brit’s forehead grow larger.
“...Love?” Naturally, a sliver of concern wedges itself into his ribs but it subsides when your calming voice spreads honey over the call. John’s shoulders fall back down. 
You breathe deeply, hands dropping the tests onto the bathroom counter with a small clack of plastic. 
“John,” forcing away the hitch to your words, you stare at yourself in the mirror, free hand sliding up to lightly rest over your collarbone as a soothing method. Your eyes are so filled with shock that it throws you off. “I…I wasn’t expecting a call so soon.” 
“Hm, been up since 0500.” the man grunts, looking out over the city and seeing the rising sun before asking softly with a deep-set brow. There was something about your tone…lids narrow at nothing. “Did I wake you?” 
“No, no,” You force a chuckle, having to take a deep breath before ripping your sights from your own reflection. The disgust was settling at you trying to avoid this. But if your own brain could barely process this right now, what gave you the right to tell John when he wasn’t here? “I’ve been up for a few hours.”
Licking your lips, you run a hand over your hair, glancing out of the ajar door into the master bedroom, pushing out bland answers for only the fact that you couldn’t think clearly right now.
Jesus, this was actually happening. 
You study the thrown covers from your morning rush to the bathroom, seeing the pictures on the nightstand and feeling the delicate atmosphere that was sparking—electricity between atoms. A silent moment of realization that everything down to the bare bones of your relationship was about to change. Blinking back to the tests, you dwell in the strange fuzz that took residence in the back of your mind. 
“What’s been going on?” Your voice isn’t right. Too tight. Too…nervous. Why were you nervous? “Everyone good?” 
The Brit frowns stiffly, shifting his feet again and sending a look back into the hotel. Hunching forward, John’s large fingers fix the position of the phone as his voice lowers, ignoring your question entirely. He doesn't want to jump to conclusions, but there were pros and cons to his line of work. 
Above all, he knew when something was up with you.
“Are you alright over there, Sweetheart?” Blue eyes rove the street below, “Feelin’ okay? You sound a bit stuffed up.”
Your heart lurches, quickly stuttering through an explanation of, “O-oh, I think I just came down with something.” The irony wasn’t lost on you. “A stomach bug,” you cringe, “I’m sorry, was it that obvious?”
The laugh that exits is less convincing than you thought it would be, but it does the trick. John sighs in relief, chuckling as he shakes his head.
“No need to apologize, Love…anything bad, then? I can bring some meds from Base when I’m back if you need me to.” He was still concerned for you, but knowing that you’d never lied or withheld the truth from him before there was really no reason to believe that anything else was going on. John trusted you to the end of the earth. 
The Captain rubbed at the back of his neck, cracking his spine as he bent back. It was still early and waking up on a hotel bed without you beside him was torture. John longed for home. Longed for you.
Back at the house, your face scrunches together. 
Bad? You wonder, saying absentmindedly that some medication would be lovely. Was this…bad? 
John had always wanted to have a kid—or, at least, he’d told you as much when he was above you, filling you to the brim and then doing it again a second and third time. Thighs quivering and eyes fighting to stay open through layered bliss as sharp pants rung in your ears. 
“Gonna get you pregnant…watch you swell up…c’mon sweet thing, you can handle another one, can’t you? Need to watch it take.” 
…But was that a true feeling or just a kink? You blank and realize you’d never asked him. More than that, though, was this what you wanted? 
“When do you think you’ll be home, John?” You speak softly, palm flattening over your stomach as you exit the bathroom and sit on the end of the bed, gut swirling but not in a nauseous sort of way. “I…I really miss you, y’know? It would all be better if you were home.”
The brunette blinks softly, lids peeling back in shock for a moment before a thin thread of guilt worms its way into him. 
“Kate said two months, Love,” John speaks slowly, the grumble in his voice trying to convey his unease at your strange behavior, “You know that.”
He’d explained his job when you both had gotten serious, how he would be gone for long periods of time, and the somewhat uncomfortable situations you’d be put in because of it. You’d agreed and never brought it up when John would have to leave in the small hours of the morning and disappear for months on end. It shocked him, really, with how well you adjusted but that was just how you were. One of a kind. 
There was no one else with whom John could see himself building a life—being buried beside in some nice meadow grave plot and turning to dust together. Growing a family with. 
John cleared his throat, tilting his head down slightly before pulling himself back to the present. 
“It’s bothering you that much, eh?” His brows furrow, “Are you sure you’re alright? I can call hospital and—”
“No!” You slap a hand to your mouth, halting your outburst as blue eyes go somewhat wide, jaw slackening. Taking a breath over the shocked silence over the line, you dig your fingers into your cheek before letting your limb drop. “No, John…I-I’m sorry I just…” 
Your voice quivers.
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…
Eyes burning and nose twitching, you breathe heavily, mouth closing shut because you knew that if you say another word you’ll explode. You were shivering with cold sweat, scared and confused, and wanting John to hold you in his arms; whispering that it would all be okay into the shell of your ear. 
You force through a sob, “I’m just really scared.”
John tenses, one hand going to grasp the balcony with white knuckles. His mind goes into overdrive. “Scared?” the Brit prods, muscles going stiff and mind running, “What in the hell is going on?” 
Authority leaks into his tone, serious and deep. It made him nervous that he couldn’t see you right now—couldn’t stop the sounds coming from your mouth. Why were you crying? Has something horrible happened to you? Were you in trouble but were unable to tell him? John runs over your conversation again, every word and sound, as his heart races. He was wound up like a spring. 
From behind him, the conversation in the hotel room halts. 
You force your eyes closed, now up on your feet and pacing. Tears lightly patter to the floor. 
“John, I can’t tell you over the phone,” you admit, shaking, “that wouldn’t be…wouldn’t be fair to you.” Swiping at your eyes, you spread the salty liquid away from your lashes, sniffling; praying that he would understand. “But I really need you home as soon as you’re able. I don’t want to break up what's going on over there, it’s just really important. I don’t think I can wait two months by myself. You know I would never ask this if I didn’t need to.”
John’s jaw clenches, legs unable to stay still as your anxiety leaks to him. He’s nodding before he realizes you can’t see him, taking a deep breath to fill his lungs. 
“...I’ll see what I can do, then.” The brunette runs his hand over his beard pulling at the strands aggressively. What was so crucial that you can’t tell him over the phone? It was a secure line, John always made sure it was; yet, at the same time, that fact didn’t matter at all. If you needed him home so fervently—then he was coming home. That was that. “How long can you wait for me, Love?” He spares a glance inside. “There are a few loose ends that need to be taken care of here. Might complicate things.” 
You blink around the bedroom, hand wrapped around your middle and trying to run soothing circles into your skin. 
“I…I don’t…” John’s face softens, closing his eyes.
“Breathe, Sweetheart,” he whispers, “I’m comin’ home to you. We’ll get whatever this is sorted, yeah? I need you to be brave for me until then.”
Listening, you let the words calm you down, sniffling one last time like a kid who had fallen off the monkey bars before you let out a chuckle. John instantly follows his own advice when that sound wafts over the line. His shoulders fall back once more, silent sigh exiting.
“You said that exact same thing to me when I ended up burning that loaf of bread I was making—two years ago, was it? ‘Breathe, Sweetheart.’” Blue glimmers with love, cheeky tone growing. 
“Hm, nearly set the kitchen on fire, didn’t you? So much smoke I swore someone had set off a charge in the oven.” John doesn’t push you to answer him, though he’s more questions than anything else at this point. You’d said you would tell him when he’s home and he believes you. “Please, Love, at least promise me you didn’t burn the bloody house down, yeah?” 
A laugh strikes his chest, and he’s chuckling slowly in retaliation. 
“I promise, John.”
“Good.” You’re smiling for the first in what seems like ages, tears drying as the flood down your chin stops. You lick away the water stuck in the corner of your mouth when John grunts lowly, “I’ll tell the boys and inform Laswell. But I can’t say it’ll be less than two weeks.”
Nodding to yourself, you say, quietly, “Okay.” Your eyes fall to the framed picture on the nightstand—the image of John and you smiling brightly on your third anniversary. You’d gone hiking, both sweaty and dirt marks on your cheeks, but happy…always happy. Your veins pump blood faster. “I love you, John.” 
The final comment is tender; the words are more silk and soft furs than vibrating vocal cords. 
He blinks away the blush that lights his pale cheeks. John huffs, an infectious smile flickering over his face as his chest wells with affection. Acting like a bird preening itself, he smirks and says, “Well, you’re lucky then…I love you too, Sweetheart.” An exhalation echoes over the call as his tone drops, “Keep safe for me, eh? I’ll call to update tomorrow.” 
“I’ll be waiting.” 
When the phone is set down on the bed, tossed down carefully, you try to think over this situation more rationally. You wouldn’t say you were against this—building a family with John. In fact, if not him, then you don’t believe it would be anyone else. 
The Brit was the only man for you. You both knew the risks of having unprotected sex and in reality, you think neither one of you cared about the consequences. 
Nodding to yourself, you wonder how to explain this to him when he comes home as you get to fixing the sheets, one hand always drifting back to your stomach with a growing appreciation.
John jogged to his car in the underground parking garage, unlocking it with his fob as his bags are slung over his shoulders. He wastes no time chucking his belongings into the back seat, swiftly sliding into the driver's seat and slamming the door shut as the engine starts. His dog tags bounce on his chest, but he’s half convinced they move from the rate that his heart is going alone.
All through traffic his fingers are tapping against the wheel, grunting stiffly at red lights and shifting his hips. 
It had been three and a half weeks of fixing loose ends. 
“Fuckin’ hell, c’mon,” John huffs, one elbow on the car frame as his hand flattens over his lower jaw. The light slowly snaps back to green after a long minute. 
Pressing on the gas, the vehicle moves forward and continues until the familiar home comes into view on that quiet street nearly twenty minutes later. 
John barely parks the car before he hops out, leaving his bags in the back, and rushes to the door. Taking the key from under the doormat, his mind is focused on only you. He had been unable to stop his worry about you and your unnamed fear, watching the phone with every free instance he could. It had only grown as the days got longer, and no matter how much you assured him that you would be okay until he got back, deep-seated apprehension grew. He didn’t like living under a shroud, especially when it came to your health.
The key in his hand was inserted with a firm wrist and twisted, shoving open the door with a heavy shoulder like there was a cloud over his head.
“Love?!” He calls, not bothering to shuck off his boots before looking around the visible living room and foyer. “Where are you?” 
Long legs move swiftly as an utterance calls from the kitchen, barely taking the time to close the door behind him in his anxiety, “John?” 
The Brit immediately backtracks, skidding to a stop and turning with blinking eyes. His ears twitch at the sounds of dishes being dropped back into water, as his heart steadily slows at the sound of your beautiful voice calling his name. 
He rushes around the doorframe, feet stomping and hand catching the wall as you come into view, staring wide-eyed. 
Your digits are around the fabric of a dish towel, fingers dripping as John finally presents himself to you. You hadn’t heard him until he had called out, too preoccupied with your own thoughts to hear the lock click. 
But now it was like every worry you had was wiped clean at the sight of that gruff face; the hitch in his large chest. A smile slashes your lips after a moment of shocked silence.
“John!” You laugh, rushing forward, and the man lets his face soften—bringing you close to him as you draw near and trapping you in his arms. 
His breath spread out over the top of your head in a great sigh, grumbled chuckles accented by the way John’s great hands wrap around your shoulders. Fingers press you into a solid chest, digging through hair to let your ear twitch at the sound of his heartbeat. 
John doesn't speak until he has held you in his arms for at least three minutes, just pressing his face into your scalp and feeling your warmth against him. You don’t pull away either, breathing in his musk as it instinctually leads to your muscles loosening. 
Minutes later, the Brit pulls back slowly, gripping you by the shoulders and looking down into your eyes. His gaze filters over yours, taking you in before his lips meet yours in a brief yet deep kiss. You melt into it, hands going to grip his cheeks and spread throughout his beard hair, soft strands leaving you shivering when John’s thumbs rub circles into your flesh. 
He pulls back and you fight the tears in your eyes as he connects his forehead with yours. His optics shine with love, bleeding out like trapped stars; silver flecks of devotion and a blue the color of sea storms.
“What’s going on, Love?” John whispers, concern alight and raving as his grip goes to your waist, squeezing comfortingly. “I’m here. Tell me.” 
You blink slowly, lips going thin with tight brows. Swallowing through a tight throat, you nod. 
“Can you go sit in the living room, please?” Speaking carefully, you tilt your head and watch John get confused—his nose scrunching and moving his lips together. You run your thumbs over his cheeks and smile slightly, obviously nervous again. “Trust me.”
Though it wasn’t a question, John replies under his breath, “Always.” 
But still, he holds you, studying your expression and the whites of your eyes with stiff lungs. You were making him fear that something horrible was coming—something he couldn’t control. His heart begins to hurt, but he backs away from you, brows tight as he exits the kitchen and disappears into the living room. 
Taking down a swift breath when he’s out of sight, you fiddle with your fingers above your abdomen, looking down at your still-flat stomach. You knew it was stupid to worry, but how could you not? It wasn’t every day you just told your Lover you were pregnant with his child…
“John loves me,” you mutter to yourself, nodding and getting ready to go through with the plan you’d formed over the three weeks you’d been alone. “And he’ll love the both of us. I know he will.” 
Hand flattening over your stomach, you open a drawer with the other, pulling out a small cardboard box no bigger than a book. Fingers shaking, you lick your lips and feel the slight pull of a nervous, yet giddy, smile. Turning, you exit the kitchen and see John sitting with his nose resting above the clench of his fists, foot tapping. His head immediately snaps over when you come into view, hands falling to hang off his legs as the couch under him dips from his weight. 
You steel yourself and raise the box. 
“Here.” Placing it on the coffee table, you sit across from John in an armchair. 
He blinks slowly, eyes going small with curiosity. The man sends you glances through his lashes as he stares down at the object but he says nothing. Rubbing his beard with one hand, he reaches and grabs it carefully. 
Testing the weight, John is genuinely confused, clenching his jaw and feeling the material in his palm. 
“...What’s this, then?” He asks lowly, glancing at you with a raised brow and lines on his forehead. 
You put your intertwined hands in your lap, prompting with a tilt of your shoulders. 
“Open it.” Off put by your cryptic answers, John nods firmly, grasping the top of the box and pulling lightly, careful not to disturb the contents. It was strange to think, but he was honestly quite perturbed. 
What exactly was inside this box, and why had he been called home for it? He loved being here, no doubt, but the circumstances….
Blue eyes glimmer. You didn’t look overly afraid as you shifted in your seat, just plain timid—like the inside object would change something fundamental about his and yours relationship. 
John pops the top off and looks as you start talking before your throat threatens to shut you up. “I…I know it’s not a life-threatening thing to call you home for,” the man stills as if he was made of stone; a statue as non-breathing and pulse-less as anything, “But I didn’t want to tell you over the phone because that seemed so—!” 
Your voice is drowned out as John’s shaking fingers delve into the box, ears ringing. His fingers flinch off of three positive pregnancy tests and the soft fabric of the plain army green baby onesie that surrounds them; skimming slowly. 
“I found out the day you called and I said I had come down with something.” Your laugh is strained when it exits you, and you stare at the Brit hard, seeing his features utterly halt all expression. Thumbs digging into your skin, your tone drops, speaking slowly, “...John? A-are you okay? Say something to me, Love.” 
It’s only in that long minute of nothingness that you really start to get an all-consuming tenseness to your bones like a rabbit. 
Why isn’t he saying anything? 
John clears his stiff throat, blinking rapidly as he brings out one of the tests, dropping the box lightly to the coffee table with a dull thump. The twin red lines are ingrained into the softness of his retinas as the sun would be if you were to stare directly at it. 
Pregnant. 
His heart swells to an almost painful degree, blue eyes moving to look at you across the table and then dipping to your stomach. The Brit stands up slowly. 
Your lungs are tight, lids moving quickly with wetness growing in your tear ducts. 
“Please, John, what are you thinking—?” Large hands capture your arms, bringing you up as lips meet yours in a passionate and heart-stopping kiss. 
John’s limbs wrap around your hips, bringing you up into the air as gently as a bird, face parting from yours with a series of loud and genuine laughs. You snap your arms around his neck, shocked but not at all complaining as he holds you up with ease, twirling you around in a firm but ever-gentle hold. 
“You’re pregnant?” His whispers meet you, airy and deep with awe. It was like he was in his teens again, running around Herefordshire with his mates—his eyes shone with happiness; pure unabashed love. “Oh, truly, Sweetheart?”
Tears dribble down your cheeks at the sight of him glowing, beard peeled back in a large smile with wet eyes. Hiccuped giggles leave your lips as you nuzzle your face into his neck, the sight of him like this overwhelming. All stress leaves you in a millisecond when your feet hit the ground again. 
“Yes, John,” you sob, overjoyed, pulling back so you both can stare into each other's teary eyes as the Brits’ fingers go to shakily wipe the waterworks from your under eyes. His orbs flicker quickly, looking you over in an entirely different light. “You’re going to be a father.” 
He fights through a scratchy voice, “Me?” The tone is amused, but he can’t articulate how exalted he feels to hear that. A father…him? It was more than he could have ever asked for, and, even better—John whispers out, “You’re going to be a mum.” 
You kiss him, multiple quick pecks that he returns through shared joyous chuckles.
“I didn’t want to tell you over the phone,” the confession meets the air as one of John’s hands travels to cup your flat abdomen, fingers flinching over the fabric of your shirt to sneak under. You laugh and shiver at his calluses, as his blue eyes are so soft they could be compared to butter. “And I couldn’t wait two months.”
“Christ, Love,” John lays a kiss on your forehead, needing to be as close to you as possible. You can feel his heart through his chest, and you know yours isn’t any better. This was far more than you could have hoped for. He mutters against your skin, “I’m so glad you didn’t. This is bloody amazing news—I want to be here for all of it.” 
Sea storms lock onto your face with a grunt, “You’re so lovely. Perfect, yeah?”
His warm hand still rests under your shirt, and you doubt it’s going to leave anytime soon.
You feel your cheeks heat and you smile bashfully, heart about to explode.
“You are.” John reiterates. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect, Sweetheart. I’m so happy.” 
The air is ripe with tenderness, a soft state of being that just keeps getting better. John had silent tears dripping down his face, blinking to clear them and not letting you leave his hold for a second. 
“Oh, John,” you whisper, digging your fingers into the back of his shirt, looking up. “Me too, Love.” 
While the glee is nearly physical enough to grab, there is a moment of hesitancy in the Brit. He was gone more times than not for work; put into situations that could leave him going through bodily harm. You didn’t deserve that stress—didn’t deserve to sit at home with a swelling stomach just watching the door and wondering if you’d have to become a single mother. You had a child in your womb. His child. Both of yours’ child. 
A family that you both had made.
John swallows and says to you seriously, without an ounce of hesitation in his blood, “I’m telling Laswell to pull me out,” you blink up and listen, letting him continue as his press on your flesh gets even more prominent, nodding to you, “I’m not missing this—not putting you through that worry. Two years, then I’ll head back in. We have enough saved, I give you my word you’ll want for nothing.” 
Blue eyes flicker down, and a small mumble so tiny it nearly disappears hits your ears. You almost start sobbing again. “This is more important. You both are more important.” 
There were few moments in your life that you think you’ll remember when you are old, weathered and wrinkled, but this you tell yourself is one that you will carry to your grave. John and yours’ grave. 
What remains behind, you ask? Simple.
White bones entangled with an eternity of deathless worship, and the generations that will come to lay flowers on the headstone.
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mint-fixates · 4 months ago
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Going more in depth with my many, very long thoughts on the AU concept I discussed in a previous post, which I'm calling "Domesticated Bill AU" based on a suggestion from the replies (TL;DR it's just a "What if Bill wasn't evil" AU)
First major difference: No Euclydian massacre. Bill doesn't destroy his home dimension, he just gets sick of them trying to suppress his gift and leaves. Something something he still ends up getting trapped in the Nightmare Realm while looking for a more exciting and accepting world
He spends a lot of time partying and getting up to mischief while hanging out with the Henchmaniacs (who still look up to him as a leader, but have more of an equals/genuine friends relationship with him rather than a boss/minion relationship), but after a billion years or so that starts to get boring. When they realize the Nightmare Dimension is unraveling, Bill has the idea to get someone to make a portal for him, like in canon, BUT Weirdmageddon is never part of the plan. He just needs a way to safely get himself and his friends out of the Nightmare Realm before it unravels, no apocalypse required
Bill still has a series of failed partnerships because no one has the technology to build the portal or because they can't match his freak and get fed up with him and call the deal off. But there's no evil retribution on anyone who fails to make it. He's chaotic neutral at worst, so most of his impact on history is similar to canon!Bill helping the Salem witches free themselves- but because of Earth's societal standards and expectations, he still gets painted as evil for these sorts of acts.
Bill meets Stanford under the same circumstances- Ford finds out about him and summons him to help when he hits a roadblock in his research (though he finds him through different means since there's no shaman warning/prophecy). The only initial difference is that Bill is fully honest about the intention of the portal, because he has nothing to hide.
Bill is still a bit emotionally immature and jealous of Fiddleford but generally their relationship is much healthier. Ford still worships and puts Bill on a pedestal at first, but as they get closer over time he realizes that they're equals, kindred spirits. Bill delights in having someone and who finds his weirdness intriguing and endearing rather than being put off by it. They both love having someone they can relate to, someone on a similar level of intelligence, someone they never have to filter themselves around, and with all that in mind it's really inevitable that they fall for each other.
The portal is a success, and Ford makes a ton of money and earns his place in scientific history for his brilliant discovery, but credits Bill with half the workload since he can now prove Bill is, y'know, real and not a hallucination. People are still a bit weirded out by Bill and prefer the idea of a human success story, so as far as the press is concerned, it was 99% Stanford. Fiddleford is not credited at his own request, preferring to live a quiet life while knowing he helped make the world a bit better.
Fiddleford is still crushing hard on an oblivious Ford throughout the portal-building process like canon implies, but once the portal finished and Ford can introduce him to/explain his relationship with Bill, Fidds gracefully bows out and goes back to working on making personal computers and on focusing on his family. He and Ford are still good friends and regularly email and call each other which Bill hates but begrudgingly tolerates
Bill and his friends take a tour of the multiverse to decide where they want to settle, but Bill's thoughts keep drifting back to Stanford. Ford is also touring the multiverse for research purposes, which has disrupted their ability to communicate mentally, and Bill realizes how much he misses him. They both eventually go back to Dimension 46'\ and get married. Bill finds Earth a bit boring sometimes and occasionally goes on vacations to other dimensions with Ford and/or the Henchmaniacs, but "home" for him and Ford is always Gravity Falls.
Stanley calls Ford to congratulate him on his success and they reconnect, both apologizing for their fight. Ford finds out that Stanley is homeless and immediately hires him as his publicist since he's constantly being bombarded with interview requests and the like. Stanley ends up getting his own place in Gravity Falls to be closer to work and his brother.
Dipper and Mabel's parents are going through some Things™ and decide to send the twins off to live it up with their rich, successful Grunkle Ford for the summer. Gravity Falls is still weird but the twins now have a great uncle who actively encourages and assists them on all their weird supernatural and conspiratorial adventures. And, of course, their weird extradimensional triangle great-uncle-in-law is more than happy to help them cause some trouble and solve some mysteries too (Bill 10000% helped Mabel kidnap Sev'ral Timez and hide them from Ford, suggested using the Lilliputtians to cheat in her mini-golf game against Pacifica, etc.)
Stanley and his personal assistant Soos still make frequent appearances at Ford's house, and Wendy is also there (haven't quite figured out how she fits into this yet), so Dipper and Mabel are still close with all of them like in canon
Mabel still meets and becomes besties with Candy and Grenda, just under different circumstances.
Pacifica's parents initially contact Stanford to hire him to dispose of their ghost problem, but he passes it off to Dipper because he and Bill are going to visit Bill's parents in Euclydia. So NWMM/Pacifica's character development plays out mostly the same way as canon
Gideon still meets and becomes obsessed with Mabel, but without the journals as a source of power and motivation, he has no ambition to steal the Shack or means to almost kill Dipper. He's still kind of a stalker towards Mabel but a mostly harmless one- especially after Ford, Bill, and Stanley find out he's been bothering her and have a Friendly Chat with him.
The journals still exist, but they're not hidden, they're just chilling on Ford's bookshelf. He originally intended to publish them but forgot about it with all the hype around the portal. Ford gives them to Dipper to help out with the twins' adventures for when he's busy and can't go help them personally.
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pnsteblnme · 6 months ago
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final(s) week ✿ a.r.
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pairing: alessia russo x fem!reader
summary: even though you're insufferable, your girlfriend helps you get through finals week (this one is for everyone who’s getting their asses kicked by their exams cause like same <3 but i’m crossing my fingers for you!!)
warnings: school, swearing, stress?, a bit angsty maybe, very self-indulgent :)
word count: 2.5k
a/n: first of all, i'm very sorry for disappearing from writing for like almost a year 🥹 i had my finals and barely had time to eat, let alone write but i only have one more to go so i hope i’ll get to write more in the future! i also have a few requests in my inbox that i’ll try to work on (sorry that you guys have to wait this long) and lastly, i don’t know anything about studying architecture so idk if the things happening here are even remotely close to the truth 😜
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“Fuck!”
A few sets of eyes turned at your exclamation as you bent down to pick up the things you’d knocked over during your side squats. 
Across the room, Alessia watched with a sympathetic look as you shook your head and grumbled in annoyance. She knew that you’d been stressed out because of your upcoming finals and was almost used to seeing you in a bad mood. 
Of course, she understood that majoring in Architecture while pursuing a career as a professional athlete was challenging. What she hadn’t expected was for you to almost crumble in on yourself. 
The closer the deadlines came, the less you smiled. When the team had bonding night, you stayed home and worked on your project. When Alessia came home from said nights (she only went because you insisted she go), you were still working and would continue to until you were on the brink of falling asleep. 
The agitated frown on your face became a constant. With the end of training, you’d hurry home and dash into your study, only coming out to have a rushed dinner with your girlfriend. 
The bags under your eyes turned shades the night sky was jealous of. Every time Alessia tried to coax you into doing something to take your mind off of things, you insisted that you couldn’t waste time that was better spent on your project. 
So, most nights the blonde lay in your shared bed, worried frown etched onto her face as she prayed that you wouldn’t overwork yourself. Reaching out her fingers, she felt like there was more than distance between you.
Sure, she could feel you twisting and turning on the other side of the bed but you weren’t there, at least not really. Your mind has been all over the place, constantly jumping from task to task, and you two hadn’t had a real conversation in weeks. 
A nudge on Alessia’s arm broke her out of her thoughts as Leah raised an eyebrow, “What’s got her knickers in a twist?” 
Letting out a concerned sigh, the striker opened her mouth to answer, eyes still focused on you across the room, when an Irish accent filled the air. 
“Yeah, Less, ye not treating the missus right?” Katie teased as she ruffled Alessia’s hair, who rolled her eyes and shrugged the smaller woman off. 
Finally tearing her gaze away from you, the blonde turned towards the two, “I’m really worried about her,” she breathed out, fiddling with her fingers. 
Leah smacked the back of Katie’s head when she noticed that this was troubling Alessia. “What’s going on?” the blonde questioned in a softer voice.
Sighing Alessia’s eyes travelled back towards you, “It’s finals week in her uni and she’s been working like a dog, day and night, spending every last minute either here or trying to finish her projects. She refuses to believe it but it’s been taking a huge toll on her and I just don’t know how to help.”
Leah and Katie shared a look as they watched the striker’s shoulders drop. They had noticed you gradually pulling away from the team, never joining them on nights out with the excuse of having to do things for school. Initially, everyone believed that you just didn’t fancy the idea of socialising, knowing that you were a rather introverted person. 
“I don’t think there’s much you can do except be there for her and make sure that she takes care of herself. Or take care of her yourself when she doesn’t,” the blonde advised as she placed a gentle hand on Alessia’s shoulder. 
Katie nodded, “Yeah, maybe you can distract her a bit.” She nudged your girlfriend’s side with a wink, adding in a whisper, “If ya know what I mean.”
Alessia rolled her eyes, threw her head back with a groan and stormed off, not before calling out a ‘You’re unbelievable!’ at the two women who were left cackling. 
At the end of the day, everyone found themselves in the changing room, packing their things and getting ready to go home, before meeting at Beth and Viv’s for game night. So, even though all of the girls were exhausted, elated chatter bounced off the walls as the anticipation of an evening full of competitiveness grew. 
You had just finished showering and started throwing your things into your bag when a body collided with your back, arms being wrapped around your neck and legs trapping your waist. Your breath got caught in your throat before you realised that only one person would do this.
“Kyra!” you exclaimed in an agitated tone as your eyebrows furrowed and you tried to pry her off of you. 
The mischievous laughter in your ear only irritated you further, proving to be an obstacle in your plans to get home as soon as possible to be able to work on your projects. “You wanna be partners later? We’ll destroy everyone,” the Australian grinned as she rocked back and forth. 
“I’m not coming,” you huffed out as you still struggled to get her off your back, “Now get off, Kyra!” You loved that girl from the bottom of your heart but your bad mood was starting to worsen with every second that passed and you had to do everything in your power not to snap at her. 
“What?” she asked, slowly sliding down to stand on the ground and turning to face you, “But we’re the Beyond Lunacy Buddies!” the brunette said, holding your shoulders and shaking your body. “And you already missed the last one,” pouted Kyra.
Your knuckles turned white with the way you were clenching your hands, “Not everyone can sit on their ass and play games the whole day,” you scoffed, ripping yourself out of her grip and zipping your bag. You knew it was wrong of you to lash out at her like that but at that moment everything you could think about was how this interaction was wasting time you didn’t have. 
The strict schedule you’d designed barely left you room to breathe and you were determined to follow it down to a T so that you’d get good grades. You didn’t even know why you were so desperate to excel in every task you got, still having your career as a footballer if you didn’t graduate with flying colours. Maybe it was for the slim chance that your parents finally said they were proud of you. Maybe it was to prove your classmates wrong, although they always had something to say, no matter what you did. Maybe it was to prove to yourself that you weren’t a failure. The reason didn’t matter in the end because you were intent on finishing the things you started. 
“Geez, don't be such a gloomy Gus,” Kyra’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts as you quickly grabbed your things and hurried to your car before you had time to regret your words. 
Worried eyes followed your disappearing form as everyone wondered what happened to your usually kind and bubbly self. 
Slamming the door shut and dropping your bags next to the shoe rack, you grabbed your headphones from the kitchen counter and made your way into your study, closing the door behind you. You turned on noise cancellation and clicked play on your favourite playlist as you began ruffling through all the sheets spread across the desk. 
The ideas for the model house and the concept of the mall had been ready a long time ago but the realisation of those ideas wasn’t as easy. Already having done the foundation of the house and more than half of the drawings for the mall, a good portion of the task was done but that didn’t make it any less draining. 
You didn’t know how many hours had passed as your headphones died and you were finishing one of the last blueprints while you held a wall of the model, waiting for the glue to dry. When your pencil accidentally rolled under the table, you carefully let go of the wall before you leaned down to pick it up. 
After grabbing it, you lean back up. A loud bang fills the air as you bump your head against the table. You rub the back of your head with a wince when the sound of a slight crack follows. 
“No, no, no,” you whisper, quickly sitting up and seeing exactly what you were afraid of. The wall you’d been holding came crashing down. Leaning back a bit to check if anything else was damaged, you noticed that in your hurry to sit up, you’d creased a few blueprints on your desk. 
The pencil you just picked up was flung across the room as your vision blurred. You could hear your heartbeat thumping in your ears, your hands started shaking, and your breathing picked up. 
Shaky hands smacked your forehead while tears were making their way down your cheeks. “You’re so fucking stupid,” you grumbled with a trembling voice, each word accompanied by another smack to your head. 
“I can’t do this anymore,” you muttered, hands now tangled in your hair in frustration as you felt a sob bubbling up your chest, opening your mouth to gasp for air as it felt like your throat was closing up.  
Gentle hands grabbed your wrists and intertwined with your fingers. “Hey, it’s okay,” whispered Alessia with a soothing voice as she squeezed your hands. 
So absorbed in your frustrations, you hadn’t even noticed that your girlfriend was already home. As soon as you saw her standing next to you though, you felt like you could breathe again. Her mere presence calmed you down drastically. 
You slowly raised your head to look at the blonde and when she saw your tear-stained cheeks, she immediately pulled you up from your chair and into a tight hug. Even more tears trickled down your face as you were engulfed in Alessia’s perfume and the overwhelming warmth that came with her hugs. 
Sobs racked through your whole body and you clenched your fists into the back of the blonde’s t-shirt, hiding your head in her chest. One of the striker’s hands rubbed slow circles onto your back as the other held your head against her and gently scratched your scalp. 
When your sobs calmed down a bit and with your head still buried in the crook of your girlfriend’s neck (because you knew that you wouldn’t be able to string together a coherent sentence if you looked at her), you mumbled with a weak voice, “I- It’s just all too much. I actually thought I could do this, you know. ‘Cause how hard can it be to go to training for a few hours and then build some stupid house and make a few drawings?”
Once the dam broke, the words tumbled from your mouth like an avalanche, “Turns out, if you’re as incompetent as I am, it’s too fucking hard. And I know there are thousands of people out there who have it so much worse than I do so I shouldn’t be whining like this but I just feel like I’m drowning and I don’t know what to do,” you confessed before taking a deep breath. 
You slowly loosened your grip on Alessia’s shirt and started pulling away as you whispered with your head hung, “Sorry, I’m just dumping all of this on you, it’s not that big of a deal.” You took another step back, wiping away your tears and clearing your throat, “So, how was game night?”
Before you could put more distance between you, soft hands grabbed your cheeks and pulled you close again, “Stop invalidating your feelings!” You drowned in ocean-blue eyes as Alessia reassured, “It is a big deal and I want you to dump everything on me so we can work through it together.”
Her thumbs grazed your cheekbones, your heartbeat slowly returning to its normal pace, while the blonde continued, “I know finals week is very stressful but you’re more than capable of doing this. I believe in you and so should you! If you talk to me and let me help you, we can make sure that you’re not neglecting your health and that you’re not biting everyone’s heads off at training while you’re building a Dreamhouse even Barbie dreams about.”
Letting out a quiet laugh, you hesitantly nodded your head, wrapping your arms around her waist as the striker added once more, “And just because other people have it worse, doesn’t mean you’re not having a hard time.”
You let out a sigh as you nuzzled against Alessia again, “I’m sorry. For everything. I know I haven’t been the nicest person or the best girlfriend. It’s just felt like my final week rather than finals week,” you chuckle with an apologetic smile. 
“Don’t worry, you’ll have everything ready in time. You have three more days to finish this, and on two of those we don’t have training, which means that you’re not working any more today!” the blonde grinned, excited now that the time you two spent at home could actually be spent together. 
Seeing Alessia’s smile instantly brought a warm, fuzzy feeling to your stomach as you felt overcome with gratitude. Not only for the fact that she stayed with you and supported you but also for the fact that she tried to understand you. 
“God, what would I do without you?” you question, squishing the blonde’s cheeks in your hands as you pressed a feather-light kiss to her nose, forgetting about your deadlines for the first time in what felt like months. “But seriously, thank you for putting up with me even if I’ve been a ‘gloomy Gus’ as Kyra would say.”
“Of course, love,” Alessia answered with a gentle peck, “You don’t need to thank me. But you should apologise to Kyra. While I quite enjoyed a night without her pestering, she seemed very sad.”
You grimaced as you let your head fall against the taller woman’s shoulder and sighed, “I’ll go call her.” Staying in Alessia’s embrace for a moment longer, you reluctantly pulled away from her warmth and started walking to the bedroom. 
“Y/N.”
Before you could make it out of the study, your girlfriend’s voice stopped you. 
Turning around, you were met with Alessia smiling lovingly at you, eyes sparkling in the moonlight.
“I’m proud of you.”
Hearing those words brought new tears to your eyes as you rushed back into the room and tackled the striker in a bear hug. The quiet groan she let out when your body crashed into hers was lost on your ears when you continuously whispered ‘I love you’ while suffocating her with kisses. 
Not even when you graduated top of your class had your parents told you they were proud of you. Not even when you and your team won the Olympics that same year. But you didn’t care anymore because you had a clumsy blonde who’d tell you every day. 
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sillygoosealert · 4 months ago
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I was so hurt after (https://www.tumblr.com/sillygoosealert/757389587337412608/stuipid-fucking-slut-i-hate-you) 🥹🥹, can you do a part two where reader goes missing after he left her but found unconscious/dead because of a reason (you could come up with one! :D)
AND ALSO, UR WRITING IS SOO GOOD, +1 FOLLOWER >.<
-🍞 anon (I will try giving you good requests >:)
I promise I won't kill myself, death is not my last resort
haiiii :3 so I'm making this part two but honestly, I might end up deleting both of the stories because I was in a bad place when I wrote that 😓 also..besides the other anon's rotting in my inbox until I respond..ur my first anon !! yippy !!
Implied Rape. You die, talks of being unsafe and how it feels to be assaulted
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Love is a gentle thing, as is the innocence you once had.
It wasn't a gradual fruition to see that being a woman would change the reality of everything for you. They warned you to steer clear of dark spots and secluded areas and always be aware. The things events that were organized and reenacted are nothing short of gender-based violence.
You understood why you and many others were constantly warned, but experiencing it was so different and vile, something you should never have gone through.
Today almost didn't end with you dead, but you didn't listen to the one thing that was looking out for you- you. That day, your gut instinct felt something was awry.
The morning was fine. You got a quick kiss on Sukuna's cheek before running off to your garden work.
The garden is split into sections. Working in them isn't an issue- except the one furthest from the estate. It's where you are most likely to get harassed by other servants as it is where most people turn a blind eye to.
Your body physically would not go near it today, you just couldn't.
Maybe it's the black crow you saw out of the corner of your eye or the sinking feeling you got whenever you looked over in its direction, but you couldn't shake the uncanny feeling it was giving you.
But as a mouse gets caught in a mouse trap, you are lured into the back part of the garden when something that resembles a doe is staring right at you. Not wanting to pass up the chance to see something so pure so up close, you walk to it.
But as you walk towards the feeble deer, and it walks further and further into the now forest, you question if you really saw anything at all.
When the doe is no longer in sight, you think about how you got here. Is it too late to turn back? I don't want this anymore.
You don't get the chance to turn back, as a pair of hands are roughly groping you from behind.
What happened in the woods wasn't your fault. You were lured to the spot in the first place. Then, when you wanted out, the exit was no longer there.
It wasn't your fault.
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When you don't show up to clean the garden, that one thing.
But your body was found before dinner, where the forest meets the garden, disrespected in horrendous ways.
When you mentioned the concern that you were being targeted by other peers, he recognized the validity of your perspective.
He knew you were being harassed, but to accept it was something he couldn't do.
It would mean several things to take action - the most significant being that you had a major influence on how he chose to address the situation.
The other is over half of the people working for him would be slaughtered if he honestly wanted you safe. That type of fear egged him on usually, with him being your savior at the end of the day.
Knowing the nature of these situations, something would have to be addressed sooner or later.
He was scared indigo at the thought of making that type of commitment to someone, but he wanted to for you.
The thought of death didn't scare him. He would tell death himself he wasn't afraid to die. However, the idea of you being beaten nearly to death, only to bleed out and perish, shook him to his core. This was something no amount of strength or intimidation could undo.
He doesn't find out about...your passing until he requests to see you after dinner.
The feeling that washes over him is indifferent, he doesn't know what he wants anymore, but he knows that he wants you back.
He will never know how the world could keep spinning after you were ripped away from his grasp, it should have been the end of the world.
You didn't want to die, you shouldn't have died.
That shouldn't have happened to you, you didn't deserve it.
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Death is a pathic escape, I will not kill myself- not for my loved ones, but for me.
Songs referenced: Velvet Ring, The End of The World, N64, My Body's Made of Crushed Little Stars, Crack Baby, Anything.
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arthenaa · 1 year ago
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My pookie wookie bear please make the modern! Mizu x reader a series I beg 🙏just the thought of all the possibilities and domestic fluff has me foaming at the mouth. Your writing is literally Shakespeare to me😭
mizu as your roommate — mizu x f! reader
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synopsis: you're not sure why and how people got the idea that you and mizu are dating but you're not. she's just your roommate.
context: prequel to blurred lines. pre-relationship. fluff. absolute fluff.
a/n: heyaaa guysss tysm for enjoying blurred lines and nocturne! ive already got an outline on how to continue the series. here's a little contribution to roommate!mizu hehe. prompt is highkey inspired by true events.
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pre-roommate!mizu:
being roommates wasn't a decision that the two of you came to right away
it took quite a while and your relationship wasn't something that instantly clicked on the first try
to give you context, you and Mizu met at your freshman orientation afterparty
Mizu majored in industrial design while you studied (course) and was fortunate enough to be placed in the same sector as her
you knew no one and people closest to you were her and Ringo who majored in culinary.
you could tell that Mizu wasn't really into social interaction as much as you and Ringo did (at least on the same level).
although, she did reciprocate some type of conversing, some of it ultimately ended with her drifting away or tucked away into some corner.
you never really bonded with Mizu at first, finding her offhanded nature and cold reciprocation of your tries in interaction a bit too rude for your taste
and it wasn't like you saw her often around campus, your chances of interaction only relied on the fact that she lived in the same dormitory as you
it was around 2nd year, mid 1st semester that you overheard Mizu's problem with her roommate. She had personally reported it to your landlord when you had just returned from a walk break from reviewing for your midterms
apparently Mizu's roommate had been abusing the visitors rule in your dormitory and constantly brought their one night stands in their shared space which infuriated the blue eyed girl.
the landlord was tight on accomodations and so you had stepped in and brought up the opportunity to be roommates
it took some coercing and persuasion on your end as you wished to be on better terms with Mizu and also because well, she really had no other option
and so, on the second half and the rest of your stay (life maybe) in college, you became roommates with Mizu from ID122.
roommate!mizu
living with mizu was something you didn't expect to work so well
you were quite surprised by your shared dynamic, not ever having to deal with the fact that you had to adapt a huge gap between you and your roommate just to be able to coexist in one space
it surprisingly didn't take long for mizu to warm up to you
she was the epitome of a black cat—there are days she prefers silence and days she'd warm up to you with her gentle smiles
she's also pretty accommodating to you as her roommate
opting to go by where you're most comfortable with
she says that its because you've given her so much but she gives you too much credit
not with the way she acts around you
the domesticity that came along with you and mizu's natural chemistry in living together was something that just came
you suppose that mizu's constant gratefulness towards your accepting demeanor in providing her a home eventually led to this dynamic
the gal does housework with ease, has become a close confidant in just a matter of weeks, walks you to your classes when your schedules are aligned, and buys you food whenever you're feeling down
it isn't too long before the distance between the two of you gradually became closer
skinship became a common affair and while mizu's touches evoked a change of cogs in your relationship, the type of skinship that she shares with you is more of genuine appreciation or concern over your well-being
extending her hand as she assist you on going down the stairs, a hand on the small of your back when you're in a crowded place, running her hands mindlessly through your hair when you're having one of those movie nights, gently leaning your head to her shoulder when you're feeling quite sleepy during the commute to school
she also does the most simplest acts of service that often leaves you melting and warming at the thought
placing your favorite food on your plate when you're eating out, having late night drive outs just to clear your mind or hang out, getting you the most random trinkets and claim that she saw it on her way home from work or class and bought it out of impulse bc it reminded her of you
she always either has to be within a meter of your presence or a part of her skin touching against hers
and she isn't the type to be clingy, it just brings her some sort of comfort that you're within her line of vision
it was pretty much safe to say that mizu was your best friend and someone you held pretty close to your heart
your friend group with akemi and taigen came about during the 3rd semester of your 2nd year.
The three of you were placed in one group during a gen-ed class that all students of your college had to take
You were quite surprised to see mizu's hostility towards taigen after he had tried jokingly flirt with you
akemi was the one who apprehended him though
with mizu and taigen's weird rivalry and akemi's naturally captivating personality, soon enough the five of you became close friends
mizu often tells you her regret of letting taigen stick around and that it's causing her headaches from all the pain of having to see his face
most of their fights as well rooted from the fact taigen finds you cute and mizu does not like that
not when there's a weird relationship between him and akemi
you asked akemi once about it and how it doesn't bother her the slightest
she just gave you a smirk and rolled her eyes, "Taigen's a boy, Y/N. I'll never settle for that."
you think she's kinda cool
anyways, the suspicions started during one of the school events that your college was hosting
it was a battle of the bands event and really was a chill night for students to hang out and vibe to music
your previous roommate was performing and so you wanted to show your respect
taigen is a party person, ringo's good for anything, and akemi's part of the event core that's handling the flow of the event
mizu tags along bc she has nothing better to do but we all know she goes anyway bc you're going
anyways, you guys are seated at the front vibing and what not
due to the naturally loud acoustics of the place, mizu has to be leaning close to you to hear you while you're gushing about the performance of the bands
she sits close to you, chair and body angled to your direction while her head is leaned close to you. She smiles softly and replies with a gentle tone of her voice to your musings and taigen can't help but notice your dynamic
He sees you clinging to her arm, hand gently patting the top part of mizu's hand to the beat of the song that rests peacefully on your knee. if anyone saw the two of you right now, people would immediately assume that the two of you were dating and well, while the you were all in a friend group, taigen really hasn't gotten to know the two of you beyond your present selves and so he asks the closest person that got to know them before him and akemi did
"Hey Ringo," Taigen asks as he leans towards the tall man seated on his right—his eyes still trained on the duo absorbed in their own world. "Are they—?"
Ringo glances at the two of you before looking back at Taigen then shrugging with a smile.
Somehow that was the precedent to the on going inside joke within your group
After that night, you often find yourselves in random situations wherein people would be curious what the relationship between the of you is
it was a shock at first and you felt like all these questions were definitely something that these people considered but eventually arose due to Taigen's very loud mouth
the guy had tons of friend groups, blame him.
(Mizu almost decked him if you and Ringo weren't there to stop him)
while the predicament was certainly awkward, your relationship with mizu didn't really falter bc of it
it kind of grew stronger??? for some reason
you think its because you find it amusing when ppl are kind of 'oh wow now I get it' and mizu's nonchalant reaction to it unless they were really being very adamant in getting to know the details
you've since grown to get used to the comments and didn't really bother the jokes casted by akemi and taigen towards the two of you
akemi once joked to mizu if it was okay that she'd steal you from her and mizu just gives her a once over before chuckling at her joke.
you're not sure why her response was like that and eventually curiosity got ahead of you
you asked her about it after akemi had gone to order a set of macarons for her roommate, leaving the two of you alone at your booth
mizu only leans forward across the table and pinches your noise. you let a noise of annoyance before the raven-haired girl chuckles at your reaction.
"She can't." Mizu peers at you from under her lashes. She crosses her arms over her chest, eyes trained on you with an unreadable look in her eyes. There's some sort of confidence with the way that she carries herself. "I would know."
the jokes ranged from ringo calling you mom and dad, taigen cringing at your natural domesticity when they all came over at your dorm, akemi trying to get a rise out of mizu by coddling you
the jokes also came from the two of you
it was just fun getting a rise out of the people around you who were constantly rooting for the two of you to get together
you always joked that the moment you and mizu would be together would be a monumental achievement not to the two of you but to taigen and akemi's constant meddling
you teased mizu with endearments and the gal would only roll her eyes
eventually, that prompted the two of you to call each other bon or bonnie as an endearment. you claim its only for fun but akemi's giving you that side eye that tells a lot of things.
overall, mizu's just a wonderful roommate and someone that you could find a safe space in and be able to fully trust in. her character and personality speaks of direct truth and genuineness that allows you to fully warm and soften around her
so it really wasn't a surprise to you when you've realized that you've fallen in love with her
her existence, the way she talks, listens to you with her undivided attention, her accommodating nature, love for silence, and those eyes that always seem to find its way back to yours
even though your relationship wasn't something that was established until recently
you knew that she was yours as much as you were hers.
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a/n: wahhh setting series off mwehehehe, feeling a bit productive tonight after finals so im multitasking comms and mizu requests! expect another one shortly maybe if im feeling it hehe
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planetnini · 1 year ago
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PLEASE DON'T SAY YOU LOVE ME !
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࿔・゚*࿐ You kept catching glimpses of Suguru around even after his death. Thinking it may have been a trick on your mind, you brushed it off but when someone that looks and sounds exactly like him shows up at your apartment, you have no other choice but to take matters into your own hands... that is until you find out that he still might be in there.
pairing. geto suguru x gn!reader
tags. angst,, like seriously angst (this hurts so much please listen to me), the first half is a trick there is no happy ending, shibuya arc spoilers!!! (kenjaku is a bitch), violence/fighting (i get a bit descriptive sorry) and of course,,, major character death :)
word count. 2.8k
notes. this idea came to me one night and bambi encouraged me to write it so here it is. i hope no one kills me for this, i also can't believe this is my first official fic of jjk... anyways, get ready to (c)rumble, thank you! <333
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“I thought I told you not to worry about me.” you said, phone tucked on your shoulder holding it to your ear as you took the grocery bag from the old lady giving a curt nod and smile. You moved the bags in one hand and pulled the phone out from your shoulder, pressing it against your ear.
“But then what else would I do?” Satoru whined, masking his concern with a playful question as you walked to the crossing, going to take the usual route home.
“Go bother someone else.” you teased.
Going for the dramatics you heard him gasp through the line, “You are so mean.” he replied and you don’t have to see him to know he is pouting. 
You chuckled, stopping in your tracks as you glanced over the scenic route through the park contemplating to take the long way home. Your attention is suddenly turned to the children with their parents, chasing each other around.
Your heart stuttered.
The mere sight elicited thoughts about your future; the plans you had come up with; the dreams you’d wish to share with Suguru that were torn away from you. The burdens of the jujutsu world were too much to handle alone, and you just know that if you were just a bit more attentive, you could have saved him.
“You need to be reminded that you’re not the only special grade sometimes.” you said, glancing at the way the soft cerulean of the sky weaved with a beautiful light orange. The sunset reminding you of days when Suguru would take you out after missions together.
“Do you think you’re stronger than me?” he chimed, and you rolled your eyes at his comment. Satoru was always like this but you knew that his voice was laced with worry and concern.
“I’m going to hang up.” you threatened as your feet move against their own will, deciding to take the long way home today. The cherry blossoms danced along with the wind, falling beneath you on the concrete as you continued down the path.
It is quiet for a moment and you think Satoru has hung up on you in response to your comment but when you hear him sigh, you can’t help but do the same.
It has been a rough few years for everyone, especially for Shoko, Satoru, and yourself. Not only had you lost your best friend the first time but you also had to lose him another time.
“Are you still there?” he interrupted your thoughts.
“Yeah.. I’m still here.” you replied as you let out an exhale, kicking some pebbles along your path.
“Are you still seeing him around?” he questioned, words picked out carefully.
You sighed, “you make me sound insane.” you responded as you stood at the traffic light waiting for the cars to pass by. Your eyes moved to the blossom leaves falling atop your head and on your clothes.
“I never said you were insane Y/N.” he grumbled and you can’t control the way your whole body relaxes at his words. You knew Satoru cared for you deeply and you had always appreciated it even if you didn't really show it. He had always kept an eye out for you, even before Suguru’s death, and while he was a handful, you knew he always had good intentions. “It wasn’t easy to be there." he added.
You thought back to that day where Satoru insisted you stay back as he went to find Suguru but one look at you and he caved. You wanted to go to find newfound peace but seeing him in this state did nothing for your closure, it only made your heartache worse.
Seeing him smile at you like he did the first day you met had sent butterflies all throughout your body.
Everything about him- every minuscule detail about him- had been exactly as you had remembered. He still had the same sweet and playful look in his eyes. He still had the same goddamn smile. He was still the same person you fell in love with all those years ago so it hurt. You cried, wept, and tried to be strong as you thought about the moments shared with him and how cruel it was that this was where you ended up.
You leaned down, and kissed his cheek as tears adorned your cheeks. Holding his hand and with three tight squeezes- a sign of sorry that you established as your relationship blossomed- he closed his eyes, prepared for the worst as a tear rolled down his face, and then he took his last breath.
“Satoru…” you uttered, completely speechless as you tried to clear your head, “I wanted to be there.”
There was a pregnant pause.
“Do you think it’s possible?” he questioned, uncertainty laced in his voice.
“That what Satoru? That by some miracle he’s alive?” you replied immediately regretting it.
It wasn’t just you that had to grieve the loss of Geto Suguru, and as much as you wanted to just go about your day without thinking about it, guilt would eat away at your bones for not constantly thinking about him.
“i’m sorry.” he sighed and you felt your heart clench at his apology. Why should he be apologising? It was unfair that grief was making you behave this way and you knew that sooner or later you'd need to talk to someone about it.
“I’m the one who should be sorry. I just don’t think my mind will let me forget it...” you sighed as you continued to walk slowly to your apartment.
The line is quiet and you don’t know what else to say. You don’t expect Satoru to even reply to you.
“You don’t have to forget. You can just live with it.”
Shoko had once told you that 'grief was love with no place to go' and while you hadn’t really understood it then, you did now. It was a way to understand the emotional ruins of grief as a continuation of the love you once had, even if the object of that love is no longer a part of your life. In a sense, Satoru was also telling you the same thing. He acknowledged that moving on didn't mean erasing the past and staying stagnant in the moment, but recognised that you can continue living a meaningful life whilst also carrying the grief with you.
You thought you were losing your mind and that seeing Suguru everywhere was a curse but maybe it was the world's way of letting you know that he was finally at peace. As you walked up the pathway to your apartment in a comfortable silence, you thought about his and Shoko’s words. 
Every single day you would return home to a place void of any remnant of Suguru. A place that is supposed to offer comfort now did the opposite but today felt different. Maybe it was a step towards another way of living and it wouldn’t be so hard to live with the grief.
“Where are you now?”
“Outside my door.” you spoke as you used a key to unlock the door.
“Okay. I’m glad you got home safe," he remarked, "I'll see you tomorrow?”
“See you then.”
“Stay safe.” he said and you know what he means.
“Love you too.”
You hung up the phone and took off your shoes before tossing everything onto the kitchen island and groaning as you stretched your back and neck. You turned to open the fridge, “Whoever you are, you have ten seconds to run before I kill you.”
You wouldn’t say you were the strongest, your abilities were nowhere to be compared to Satoru but everyone deserves a second chance, right? You let the entity decide its own fate. Don't say I didn't warn you...
“So... you’re the infamous Y/N.” 
That voice…
Your feet were frozen in place and you could feel your own heart sink into the pit of your stomach. There were words stuck in your throat as the nauseous feeling crept up and threatened to spill from your lips. This can’t be right… 
What felt like minutes passed by as you processed what, or rather who you just heard. The way your name rolled off their tongue was foreign. Was it really who you thought it was? Your mind must be going through it right now and although you know it’s not possible, you can’t help but hope it is who you think it is as you turned around.
“Suguru?” you uttered, eyes wide as the tears brimmed the edge of them as you stared at the man in front of you. 
“Bingo!” he chuckled.
You begged yourself to snap out of it. This was clearly a sick and twisted transformation technique but your heart betrayed you, standing there and not making a run for it.
“You’re probably thinking this is some illusion but thanks to your friend, I was able to obtain this body without much trouble.” he smiled and you felt goose bumps crawling up your arm at the strange sight. Despite how much this man looked and sounded like Suguru, you knew this was not the case at all.
Your jaw clenched, “What the fuck did you do to him?” 
“I could ask you the same thing,” he said, standing up from your sofa as he trudged towards you, “My cursed technique allows me to transplant my brain into anybody," he explained and you're heaving as you tried to keep your rage at surface level, "I have access to all of his memories, his skills, and whatnot."
You don't have it in yourself to attack just yet.
"He lived a long time without you in his life but somehow," he paused, "you take up almost every single memory.” he sounded frustrated and the tears threatening to escape your eyes do so- whether he was telling the truth or not, they still hurt you immensely. 
“So why are you here?” you growled as your body allowed itself to move again and maintaining eye contact with him as you focused all your energy to charge your technique.
“You are a hindrance to my plans.”
His weakness.
You released your cursed technique at him immediately and launched him across the room and as you moved to the table to grab your phone. One of Suguru’s cursed spirits wrapped around your hands and restrained you and using your abilities, you managed to get away from it. You shot him a look as he tilted his head with a smile, “I gave you ten seconds to run but I have something else settled for you now” you snapped as you continued to use your technique to your advantage as you continued to fight him.
You would say that against Suguru, it had always been a close call of who would win in a fight but this time it felt difficult. Who was this guy?
You continued to attack the man, fighting back with all your might. He wasn’t actually Suguru, so you didn’t feel the need to hold back. He caught you off guard with a calculated move and knocked you to the floor. You saved yourself from further injury as you used your arm to break the fall, but you managed to hit your head on the furniture with your head in the process.
You winced pushing yourself off your elbow as the man walked towards you with his hands in front of you as he tried to force you up by the throat, “Suguru...” you managed to say before he could grab you. 
Before you can even process it, there is a twitch of his hand that came up to his throat, choking himself as his fingers pressed down against the side of his throat, ultimately stopping himself from putting a hand on you.
Your eyes widened as your breath caught in your lungs. Was he still in there?
Kenjaku’s eyes widened, as his vessel- Suguru’s body- fought against him, and a laugh that used to be full of joy now sounded like nails on a chalkboard as it echoed through your apartment, “This is impressive!" he spoke, amused at the action.
By no means was Geto Suguru still alive, but protecting you had become muscle memory; it was an instinct that has embedded itself deep within his soul, one that Kenjaku would never truly be able to understand..
You are still on the floor, blood dripped down the side of your head as you moved up from your spot. Using your technique, you try and catch him off guard by putting all your strength into your next move, attacking him when he least expects it, “In all my years, I have never seen anything quite like this and it is all because of you.” he cackled. 
“It sounds like somebody is scared.” you taunted, smirking at the imposter to try to size him up.
“Well, let me tell you this,” he cleared his throat, “When a part of the original host reacts, you know what that means?”
“What?” you seethed, jaws clenched as you waited for him to finish his sentence.
“He’s still in here.” he whispered, and t had caught you off guard.
You wanted to attack but instead your heart sabotaged your next move allowing Kenjaku to have the upper hand. You struggled to react as you felt the pain of something on your left side and suddenly, you are on the floor gasping for air and you can feel him hover over you.
He pinned you down to the floor and slammed you against it to stop you from struggling but you were already incapacitated so what was the point?
In terms of physical strength, Suguru would always win by a landslide and this is when you wished you had taken your training more seriously. 
There was a visceral reaction that tears at Kenjaku as he has you in his hands which entertains him once again, “You have some nerve calling yourself a special grade sorcerer,” he sneered, “Are you holding back?”
You looked up at him and tried your absolute best to move but the pain is too much to handle. You clenched your jaw as your breathing became erratic, “You will find no peace, so long as you live.” you choked out.
He laughed and wrapped his hand around your neck tighter, his right hand reaching over to your hand- you don’t know what he expected from you now that you’re bleeding out. "You're hilarious," he rejoiced as his hand intertwined with yours, “So let me make this easier for you. Just think about him...” Kenjaku needed you to suffer so that he could shake Suguru’s will to its core, stripping anything left he had. You don’t know what you expected but then you felt a gentle squeeze.
One. 
You forced your eyes open to look up at the man who squeezed your hand. It seemed that he was unaware at the action. This guy said he had all of Suguru’s memories so was he just doing this on purpose? Is this Geto Suguru or is this the imposter that is using his body?
“It is honestly so sweet just how much he loved you after all those years apart.” he chuckled.
Kenjaku continued to put pressure around your neck with one hand, feeling the exact opposite of what Suguru was probably going through- an intolerable, gut-wrenching pain, without exaggeration. He can’t do anything but squeeze his hand in yours again.
Two.
You can’t fight back, you have no will. Even if by some miracle, how could you possibly hurt the man in front of you? The man you once loved...
“Is that why you’re not fighting back? Do you love him too much to hurt him?” 
Suguru’s soul pleaded. 
He wondered why he couldn’t be strong right now for you and resist but it was no use. You could see a tear falling from his face now as the final fragment of his soul tried its best to push through.
Three.
You’re choking. You can't swallow. You can't breathe. You can only see the man you loved in blurry vision from the lack of oxygen and through tears. He was sorry...
“I… I.. forgive.. y-” you choked out, voice restricted as Kenjaku forced himself to push through with his execution, tightening his grip.The finality of it all settled deep within his soul as Kenjaku watched the life leave your eyes as you took your last breath.
A tear rolled down your cheek and your existence on the Earth came to an end.
Suguru was not really gone but he might as well have been. He will exist for a long time knowing that he was the one that killed you and that he couldn’t do anything to stop it either.
It was on that night for the first time that Kenjaku felt the overwhelming amount of agony from his vessel. His soul ached, cried, and wailed that night, longing to be with you but he couldn’t- that was just how things were meant to be for you two.
You hoped he knew that you forgave him and that you would love him endlessly but as for now, you would wait...
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tags! @stsgluver
i made y/n a special grade user because they could easily take down suguru if they wanted but just didn't do it hahahahahah
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roosterforme · 1 year ago
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The Grateful Dad Part 2 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
Summary: Bradley can't believe you and he are about to be parents. Just when he was getting used to the idea of how his life would be, the two of you get an unexpected surprise. And by your third trimester, when you make a promise to him and then break it, he's left to deal with some things in his own.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, swears, smut and pregnancy
Length: 4900 words
Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)
This is an optional one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time!
Read Part 1! Check my profile for my masterlist
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It didn't fully hit Bradley until the first time he noticed that soft swell of your belly. It seemed to sneak up on him, the way it took several months before it was noticeable. But once it was there, it was all he could think about. 
He was going to be a dad. And you were going to be a mom.
"Sugar," he whined that first day he noticed it. "You have a bump." You were lying in bed, trying to read as he pushed your tie dye shirt up a few more inches. "This wasn't here yesterday."
You set your book down and glanced to where his hands were resting gently on your belly. "I guess I do have a little bump," you replied softly, running your fingers through his hair as he kissed the spot just above your belly button. "My wool skirt is getting snug for work, but I thought I was just bloated."
Bradley was mesmerized. "Do you think it's a girl or a boy?" he asked, glancing up at you with a grin. 
"Do you really care?"
"Not at all." He kissed your bump and started humming his favorite Grateful Dead song. Bradley knew this was likely the only time you'd want to get pregnant. Your career was important to you, and you were already concerned about the baby coming before the end of your spring semester. You said you were going to have to take the following fall semester off from teaching, because you didn't want to let down the math majors at San Diego State University where you taught calculus. 
"You don't know how easy it is to love you," he sang to your belly before abruptly rolling over in bed. 
"Where are you going?" you asked him with a laugh. 
He grabbed his phone and opened his music app, mumbling, "The baby should get to hear the Grateful Dead perform it. Sounds better than when I sing."
He queued up the song and placed his phone near your belly as it started. "I don't know. I kind of like your version, Beer Boy," you promised, and he kissed your lips before pushing your shirt up high enough so he could see your tattoo of the song lyrics. 
"That's good, because I'll never stop singing it," he whispered, running his nose along your tattoo. He placed one hand gently on your belly and sang along.
--------------------------------
"I'm so excited," Bradley whispered for the seventh time in five minutes. "I don't think I've ever been this excited before. I also kind of feel like I'm going to throw up."
"Relax," you whispered, taking his hand. If he was this bad today when you were getting a high definition ultrasound, maybe you didn't want him with you when you actually delivered the baby.
"I just want to see the bean," he mumbled, practically bouncing in the waiting room chair. 
You tried not to smile, because he actually looked a little pale and nervous. "We don't even get to find out the sex today."
"Yeah," he replied, exasperated, "but we get to see the bean, Sugar. Up close and personal."
When they called your name a minute later, Bradley jumped out of his seat and dragged you down the hallway. He paced around the first room while you had some blood drawn. And then he paced around the next room while you waited for the technician to come in.
"Why did they call us back if they weren't ready?" he grunted, eyeing you up and down as you sat on the exam table in a hospital gown. "This is taking for fucking ever."
"Watch your language in front of the baby," you scolded, and his eyes went wide.
"Shit, you're right. Oh, fuck. Damn it!" You were cracking up now as he sat down with his forehead resting on his palms. "I'll get better, I promise!" 
"You have about six more months to shape up your act." 
He thought about everything he had planned for the next six months. Buy a crib and a stroller. Put a car seat in the Bronco. Paint the extra bedroom. Put those little plastic safety things in all the outlets in the house. 
When the exam room door opened, he jumped to his feet as a woman in pink scrubs walked in. "Hi, I'm Elaine! Sorry for the long wait, but we were double checking your blood work," she said walking toward you.
"What's wrong with the blood work?" Bradley asked, his voice suddenly hoarse. The desire to throw up returned, and he was reaching backwards for the arm of the chair. 
"Nothing at all," she replied smoothly, helping you lay back on the table and opening the hospital gown. "A lot of different levels were elevated, so we wanted to be sure. But if you're ready to see the babies, then we can get started."
"Babies?" you and Bradley nearly shouted in unison as Elaine opened the software and turned on the gigantic monitor. 
"Yes," she replied with a smile. "You're having twins."
Bradley nearly collapsed back into the empty chair. "Holy shit. Holy shit, Sugar!"
"Twins?!" you asked Elaine. Bradley couldn't tell if you were excited about the idea or not, but he was thrilled. Two babies? In one go? This was better than getting a promotion at work. This was almost as good as his wedding day. Almost as exciting as when you and he reunited in Virginia after ten years apart.
When you reached out your hand toward him, Bradley rocketed out of his seat to get to you. "Are you happy?" he asked, lacing his fingers with yours and kissing your forehead. 
"I... I think so. I think I'm kind of shocked."
"Me, too. But in a very, very good way."
As the two of you watched the monitor while Elaine moved the wand around on your belly, Bradley's eyes filled with tears. He had never seen anything so sweet in his life. 
"Two little beans," you whispered, and Bradley watched you cry as you smiled. When he nodded, you added, "Yes, I'm happy."
But when Bradley got you settled at home, his apprehension started to creep in. You were clearly tired. You were the one growing the twin beans. He probably wasn't doing enough. As you slowly dozed off in bed wearing his old Grateful Dead shirt, he watched your lips part, soft breathing taking over. 
His thoughts drifted to his own parents. He could only remember how much pain his mom had been in before she died, and he could barely picture what his dad looked like unless he had a photo in his hand. 
Bradley could feel his heart rate pick up, the rapid pounding filling his ears started to make him feel crazy. He sat up in bed, trying to catch his breath. "Fuck," he muttered. He was going to mess this all up. He didn't know what he was doing. He couldn't remember his dad. And all he knew was that his mom somehow made him feel safe without really doing anything that he could model his behavior off of. Carole just made everything seem effortless, which was not helping him right now. 
He bolted out of bed, and then your eyes were open and focused on him. "What's wrong?" you asked groggily. "I need you to snuggle with me."
He studied your pretty face and your earnest expression. "What if I suck at being a dad?" he blurted out.
You set your head back down on the pillow and reached out for him with one hand. "You're good at everything else. You'll be good at this, too."
"But what if I'm not?" he demanded. "I don't know what the hell I'm doing. I barely even had a dad." He thought of the navy desk lamp and how he'd followed in his father's career path and how he somehow knew Nick had loved him. 
"You've never let me down yet, Beer Boy." Your soft words and the way you reached for his hands were enough to get him back into bed. And then his pulse returned to normal as you wrapped him up in your arms. This time he was dozing off before you were. 
----------------------------
Bradley went sprinting out of work at the beginning of lunchtime. If Maverick kept them one minute longer, Bradley would have earned himself some push-ups for insubordination. It was your anatomy ultrasound scan day, and now he was going to be late meeting you there.
"Fuck," he groaned as he yanked down the zipper of his flight suit a few inches as he pulled out into traffic. He was trying so hard to stop swearing, but days like this just called for the f word. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he growled, weaving around cars.
He wanted to know more about the twin beans. You and he had been talking about names, and he was beyond excited about everything. Last weekend he had painted the nursery a soft gray color and assembled two cribs. He even ordered a variety of matching tie dye onesies. Then you told him he did a great job and pushed him down on the floor on the new cloud shaped area rug in the nursery. His reward was getting to run his hands all over your round belly and tits while you rode him.
Bradley was in love with you and the babies, and being late today was making him upset. You were already on the exam table with the technician when the receptionist led him back to the room.
"Oh good, you're here," you sighed as he rushed toward you and grabbed your hand.
"I'm so sorry I'm late," he whispered, kissing your forehead and then your belly.
The technician smiled as Bradley knelt next to the table with his hand in yours. "Let's begin?" the technician asked. And when you nodded, he rubbed some gel on your belly and ran the wand slowly back and forth until those adorable beans were on the monitor just like last time.
"They got so big!" Bradley said, proud of how nicely they were growing.
"They are measuring right where they should be," the technician said, pausing the screen to take some pictures. "And I can tell you the sex for both of them if you want to know."
"Yes!" Bradley nearly shouted, looking up at your beautiful face as you laughed. "Please!"
"Okay, here we go."
It felt like an eternity as Bradley gripped your hand, waiting to be informed about what he was looking at on the screen. You were stroking his knuckles with your thumb, always so calm and analytical. 
He glanced at your face and watched you as the technician said, "Baby number one right here is not shy at all. He's waving hi."
"He?" Bradley was on his feet, trying to get closer to the screen. 
"Yes. A boy," the technician said.
"Another little Beer Boy in the making," you said before Bradley leaned down to kiss you.
He was sure he looked ridiculous as he said, "Nah, he'll be so much better than me. He's half you."
The way you smiled up at Bradley had him kneeling next to you again. "What about baby number two? Can we look at that bean now?" he asked, squeezing your hand. 
"Okay," the technician said, drawing Bradley's attention toward the screen again. "And baby number two...well she's trying to hide behind her brother, but there she is."
Bradley shouted, "Yes!" so loudly that you and the technician both jumped a little bit. "Oh my god, Sugar!"
"One of each," you whispered, covering your lips with your shaky fingers. 
"This is exactly what I was hoping for, but I didn't want to say it out loud," he whispered against your ear before kissing you all over your face. "Two little beans. One of each!"
You wrapped your arms around Bradley's neck and said. "You don't know how easy it is to love you."
------------------------------
"I'm not going to make it," you moaned, laying on the couch while Bradley made dinner while his phone rang. You were at the start of your third trimester. You were huge. You were always hungry. It was getting hard to stand up for your lectures that were longer than an hour. And Bradley was the only thing holding you together. 
"Fuck!" he suddenly shouted from the kitchen. 
"What's wrong?" you asked, lifting your head up from the cushion. When Bradley walked into the living room, his brow was pinched and he was eyeing you warily. "What?" you demanded, struggling to sit up.
He knelt in front of you and eased you into a seated position. "Sugar," he whispered, pleading with you. "I just got the call. A special mission."
Tears sprang to your eyes. "A deployment?"
"Yeah, baby. I'll be back before the due date."
You cried while his lips met your belly through your shirt. "But, Bradley," you sobbed, "I can't! You've been doing everything! I'm so exhausted, I can barely function! And what if they extend you? That did that last time!" 
Great big sobs wracked your body, and you started gasping for air. Soon you were close to hyperventilating, but Bradley got you into the bathroom just in time for you to throw up in the toilet. And then you curled up on the floor and looked up at him. Your voice was a harsh whisper as he rubbed your back. "I can't do this without you."
He looked distraught as he said, "I don't want you to have to. But Uncle Sam owns my ass."
You closed your eyes, dreading asking him for the mission details. So instead you whispered, "No, the beans and I own your ass. Uncle Sam just borrows you."
"You absolutely own my ass, Sugar," he replied softly, kissing your tear streaked cheeks and helping you get to your feet. "Let's try to eat dinner, and we can talk this through."
Bradley carried two plates of food to the dining room table where you had the perfect view of the glossy white doors he had used to propose to you. He had hung them up on the wall, turning them into the most beautiful work of former frat boy art you had ever seen. 
SUGAR 
WILL 
YOU 
MARRY 
ME?
You picked at your food as he filled you in on the missions plans. He was perfect. Your husband was perfect, and now you were scared you weren't going to be able to get through a month without him. And then you started to spiral, because if four weeks alone while you were pregnant felt too daunting, how would you manage twins while he was gone for months at a time?
"Beer Boy?" you whimpered. "I can't do this."
"Yes," he said adamantly, "you can. You're the strongest person I know."
You bit down hard on your lip as it quivered. "What if something happens to you? Or me? Or them?" Your voice broke, and once again, Bradley was collecting you into his arms and abandoning the dinner plates. You cried softly as he helped you out of your work clothes and into his old Grateful Dead shirt. And then you curled up in bed and watched him strip down to his underwear. 
You watched the flex of his muscles as he took the hideous, tie dyed Grateful Dad shirt out of his drawer and pulled it on. "Nothing's going to happen," he whispered as he got in bed beside you. "You'll wear your shirt, and I'll wear mine. And we'll think about each other the whole time I'm gone. And I'll hang up all the sexy photos I have of you plus the ultrasounds of the beans. And before you know it, I'll be back. And then the beans will be here. And then we'll actually be even more perfect than I ever thought possible."
You cried yourself to sleep in his arms, soaking up all of his beautiful words. 
---------------------------
Bradley's duffle bag was packed. He was leaving in the morning. You'd made him a little folder of copies of the ultrasound photos, and he'd added a few wedding photos as well. He laughed every time he looked at the photos from your Vegas wedding with Elvis. But right now, he felt like crying.
Somehow you were holding it together better than he was right now. "You coming to bed, Beer Boy?"
He zipped his bag closed and looked up to find you standing there in your navy blue bra and matching panties. Your tits looked bigger than ever, practically spilling over the lace cups. And your belly had gotten so big, your panties were tucked below your bump. He reached out for you, pulling you close so his nose met your belly.
"I want the two of you to be good for Mommy while I'm gone, okay?" he whispered, kissing and tickling you with his mustache. He was rewarded with your fingers in his hair and a kick from one of his twins. "I love my Sugar Babies."
You giggled and said, "I wonder if that was the jellybean or the spoonful of sugar that kicked you." Over the past few weeks, you had taken to giving the twins cute little candy related names, and Bradley couldn't get enough. 
He'd never get enough of you either. The way your fingers felt in his hair as he knelt in front of you. The sound of your voice when he closed his eyes. The warmth of your skin where he kissed you. 
"I'm gonna miss you," he whispered before he stood and followed you to bed. 
"I'll be there to pick you up four weeks from tomorrow," you promised, reaching back to unhook your bra. "I promise."
Bradley groaned loudly as you sank back into the pillows. "Your tits look delicious," he moaned, crawling across the bed to get to you. "Fucking huge."
"Watch your language in front of the babies," you whispered against his lips as he palmed your breasts and stroked your tattoos. "Daddy."
Bradley pulled your underwear down your legs and tossed them aside, running his fingers through your slick. "Bradley!" you gasped, your eyes following his every move as he brought his fingers up to his lips. 
"You look delicious, and you taste delicious," he told you, licking his fingers clean before you reached for his cock through his boxer shorts. You squeezed him, eliciting a strangled, needy noise, and he whined your name. 
And you let Bradley do whatever he wanted with a devilish little smile on your face and his name on your lips. You sucked his cock until he was panting, and then you leaned back with your hands on your chest. When he ran his wet length through the valley between your breasts, you urged him along.
"I want you to," you whispered as he titty fucked you. Your tongue darted out to taste him as he tried to go slow. But you looked and felt so good, he was already so far gone by the time he pulled away from you.
"I wanna make you feel good," he gasped as you pushed him onto his back. "As fucking good as you make me feel all the time."
He was treated to the sight of you awkwardly positioning him at your entrance as you had to work around your belly. And when you slid down around him with your perfect pussy, Bradley let his hands come to rest on your hips. Your body was wider now and impossibly sexy, and you rode him as you ran your fingers gently along your breasts. 
"I love you, Sugar," he whispered, running his knuckles along your clit until you were clenching. His other hand came to rest on your belly, and Bradley felt so connected to you, so in love with you, that he felt a tear leak from his eye as you came from him. And then he came inside you as he met you halfway for a kiss.
As you eventually started to doze off on his shoulder, still full of his cum, you whispered, "I love you too, Beer Boy."
----------------------------
Being away from the three of you was tedious at best. Bradley found it hard to pay attention to the things he was supposed to do. He knew the mission parameters inside and out, but he didn't take the time to think about how dangerous it was. There was no space left in his jumbled thoughts for anything except you.
Phoenix had promised to go to your appointments with you in his absence, and when he was allowed to call you, he listened intently to your updates 
"Jellybean boy is measuring a little bigger than our sweet girl, but they both looked good! Nice and strong according to the doctor. And I gained three more pounds, which is probably not ideal, but all the meals you made and froze for me are so yummy." 
And then he flew the special mission, set on making sure it went as flawlessly as possible. Determined to stay as safe as he could. Whatever it took to get back home to San Diego and his perfect little family. 
You were less than a month out from your due date now. And when Bradley arrived on the dock exactly four weeks after you'd sent him off with some filthy kisses, he was so excited to see you. See if you'd gotten bigger or had trouble walking now. He was excited to kneel down and talk to his twins. 
But when he turned his phone on, he was greeted with a voicemail message of your incoherent sobbing. He dropped his bag to the deck of the aircraft carrier as the sound of you crying met his ears. His heart sank to his stomach. You'd left him this message just a handful of hours ago, but when he tried to call you back as the ship was docking, you didn't answer. 
"Come on," he whispered, his voice harsh and filled with unshed tears. "Sugar." But still, you did not answer.
He could feel himself gasping for air. He promised you nothing was going to happen. He never broke his promises to you. Not even when he was twenty one years old and didn't understand the strength of the love he felt for you.
He was staring at his phone screen for a few seconds as tears filled his eyes before he realized he was receiving a call.
"Nat?" he asked, answering his best friend.
"I'm on the dock," she said simply. "I'll find you as you deboard. We're going to head right to the hospital."
"What happened to her?" he asked, clutching his own stomach, barely able to speak. "To them?"
"Early labor," was all she said. Then she sighed before repeating herself. "We'll head right to the hospital."
------------------------------
You weren't sure what was going on. All you knew was the intense amount of pain you were in was enough to make you throw up over and over again. When your water broke during your calculus lecture, you shouldn't have been surprised. You'd been feeling off all week. You tried to chalk it up to missing your husband, but it was more than that. 
After your water broke, you collapsed, only breaking the fall with your hands on the hard floor. You were pretty sure at least one of your wrists was broken, but nobody at the hospital was even slightly concerned about that. Not when they were trying to determine if your babies were okay. 
Tears welled up in your eyes, and you had to beg Natasha to leave you and pick Bradley up from the port on base after she met you at the hospital. You had been informed that the babies were fine, but you needed to deliver them now as you were running out of amniotic fluid. They would deliver the beans by cesarean section. They were going to put you under general anesthesia for it.
You cried as they prepared you for surgery. You were alone. Bradley was probably with Phoenix by now, but they wouldn't wait any longer. "Let's get started," your obstetrician said as you settled on your back with your battered wrists as your sides. 
"Okay," you agreed, crying as the drugs to put you under started to cloud your vision. 
"Sugar!" 
You laughed softly at the nurse to your left. "That sounded like my husband," you said with a giggle. Then you caught sight of Bradley running into the room in his khaki uniform, drenched in sweat. "It looks like him, too. Hi, Beer Boy," you said, still laughing as he rushed toward you.
"Sugar," he gasped, eyes wide. But they wouldn't let him touch you as you fell asleep.
Pain. You woke up in so much pain. Everything hurt. You were on your back and the room was dark and you could hear beeping. 
"Bradley?" you gasped, trying to sit up, but you couldn't. You started crying and calling his name, and then he was at your side.
"I'm here, Sugar," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "It's okay. I love you. You're just waking up again."
"Again?" you asked, completely confused. "Where are the beans?"
"In the nursery," he promised. "They've been in the nursery since yesterday when they were born." 
Your head was swimming with information and memories and fear as Bradley left you to turn on the dim hospital room lights. "They were born yesterday?" 
"Yes," he told you, making his way back over in his rumpled, wrinkly uniform. "And you had surgery on your left wrist today."
But you were starting to remember more now as your eyes settled on the white board across the room. The birth times and birth weights of the twins written in an unfamiliar scrawl. Baby A and Baby B were born just five minutes apart. You must have been on a lot of pain medication, because surely those were not the names you and Bradley had discussed?
You cleared your throat a few times, and then he was grabbing your cup of water and holding it so you could take a sip through the straw.
"Bradley," you started, but he stopped you with a kiss to your chapped lips.
"I'm so proud of you, Sugar," he said, letting his forehead come to rest against yours. "Do you have any idea how fucking amazing you are?" 
"But Beer Boy," you said, glancing at the names written on the board.
"The doctors said the kiddos are doing just fine, and when they wake up hungry in another hour or so, you'll be able to see them."
"But I-"
"And only your left wrist was broken. Your right one will heal on its own. And your abdominal incision will heal up great. And you'll be back to work after the fall term, no problem."
"Bradley!" you said loudly, realizing it was nearly three in the morning as you checked the clock before looking at the names again. "Did you go rogue and name the children without my approval?"
Your husband was silent now, and you could see his cheeks were a little red. "Just the middle names," he muttered softly. 
You sighed and read out loud from the board. "Emma Bean Bradshaw and Levi Garcia Bradshaw," you said slowly. "Really?"
He looked so sheepish as your gaze met his again. "I thought they sounded nice," he whispered, and you felt your lips curve into a smile.
"I love them," you said, swallowing hard. "Their names are perfect."
And then you were treated to your husband's lips and mustache as he kissed you all over your face until you were laughing. "I thought you were mad," he said with a sigh of relief.
"Not mad," you promised, letting him adjust your bed and get you more water. He flitted around the room for a few minutes, and then the door opened as two nurses pushed bassinets into the room, and you cried as you looked at your daughter and your son in their matching tie dyed onesies
Bradley picked Emma Bean up in his arms, and he gently held her out so you could give her a kiss. "Here she is. And check it out, Sugar. I've been feeding them and changing them since yesterday!" 
You marveled at how he held her and bent to coo at Levi Garcia at the same time. And then a moment later, he was sitting in the chair right next to you, feeding each baby a bottle as he sang his favorite Grateful Dead song. 
"Beer Boy," you said with a soft laugh. "You really are the Grateful Dad." 
He smiled at you and said, "I haven't been home yet to wash my hideous shirt, but one day soon we can all wear our tie dye together." 
You examined the cast on your left wrist and ran you right hand gingerly along your belly which felt horribly tender. "You're going to have to take care of all three of us when we go home."
"I'm up for the challenge," he promised immediately. "Nat's gonna help. And Bob will, too. And we'll be just fine. Better than fine."
Bradley stood carefully and set down Emma Bean, your tiny daughter, along your right side. Bradley didn't move as she snuggled up against you, rather he bent and let you kiss Levi's cheek. 
"We'll be perfect," you supplied, smiling at your son and daughter as you listened to your husband sing. 
"You don't know how easy it is to love you."
-----------------------------
I couldn't leave Beer Boy hanging in his ugly Grateful Dad tee without letting him know how was having twins beans. And I just know he's going to take the best care of all three of them. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
@hotch-meeeeeuppppp
@swthxrry
@chassy21
@yaboid19
@solacestyles
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@hecate-steps-on-me
@xoxabs88xox
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scoonsalicious · 6 months ago
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10.1 Major
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language.
Word Count: 1.5k
Previously On...: You saw Bucky's strength full force for the first time.
A/N: At my nephew's 3rd Birthday Party today. Pray for me.
If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
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You sighed in relief as Bucky waved a final goodbye and walked out the door. It wasn’t that you were happy to see him go… it was just that, well, you really couldn’t deal with the contents of this envelope with him there. You waited through the count of ten after he’d walked away before turning back to Zadie.
“The courier company, Zadie,” you said, your voice calmer now than it had been when you first walked out of your office. “I need to know which one it came from.”
Zadie bit her bottom lip in distress. “I’m… I’m sorry, Major,” she said. “I was checking in a group for a 1:30 session when it got dropped off. I wasn’t really paying attention. I’m sorry.”
You let out a frustrated breath of air. “It’s okay, Zadie,” you told her. “You didn’t know it would end up being important. And I’m sorry I yelled earlier. I just… well, I wasn’t expecting this and it’s thrown me for a loop.”
“Is everything okay?” Zadie asked, concern showing in her voice. “Is the business in any kind of trouble?”
You shook your head, wanting to relieve her of any worry that this had any impact on The WarZone. “No, no– everything’s fine on the business end. The stuff in the envelope is personal. I think I have an idea as to where it came from, but I need to be sure.”
“But you just told Sergeant Barnes it was business stuff,” Zadie insisted. 
“Yeah, yeah I did,” you conceded. “It concerns him, and I really don’t want him having to worry about it. At least until I have more facts.” You hated that you had lied to him about the contents of the envelope, but you would have hated the look on his face when he discovered what it was even more. 
Thanking Zadie and apologizing to her once more, you made your way back into your office. Once inside, you locked your door and dumped the contents of the envelope onto your desk. Dozens of reports and photos splashed across your workspace, each one depicting the horrific crimes of the Winter Solider in brutal detail. The final piece to fall from the envelope was a photo of Bucky, in full assassin gear, aiming a gun at the head of an unarmed older man, and in blocky all-caps lettering, the message to you: DO YOU KNOW WHO YOU’RE FUCKING?
You knew Bucky well enough by now to know how upset these documents would make him, how he would most likely pull away from you once he saw you knew the dirty details of his crimes, but you would never. You’d meant what you’d told him on your first real date– he was not the man responsible for these atrocities; and these anonymously sent pieces of paper wouldn’t change your mind.
However, there was someone out there who clearly thought they would. Someone who assumed you would be put off by the darkness in Bucky’s history. Someone who didn’t want you to see him anymore. Honestly, the pool of individuals who knew about your relationship with Bucky was so small, there weren’t many suspects. One, however, stood out more than the rest.
You moved around to your desk chair and sat down. Picking up your phone, you dialed Zadie at the front desk. 
“Hey, Zade,” you said when she answered. “Do me a favor and have Rand come see me when he gets back from lunch. I need to have a talk with him.”
*
You spent the next forty minutes trying to figure out where the documents came from, both in terms of what courier service delivered them and where the documents might have originated from. You were a bust on both fronts, unfortunately.
Your first step was to review the security cameras in the lobby for the time in question. You watched the courier enter the building and go to the reception desk, patiently wait for Zadie’s attention, then have her sign for the envelope. Unfortunately, there was no uniform or logo indicating what company the courier worked for. You knew you should have splurged to have cameras cover the outside front of the building, on off chance the courier had gotten into a marked vehicle, but you hadn’t thought the expense necessary at the time. 
As for the provenance of the documents themselves, well, that was also a dead end. Most of the files came from the archives of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division of the United States Government. You knew S.H.I.E.L.D. had suffered an intel leak back in 2014, and it appeared that everything that had been sent to you on the Winter Soldier’s crimes were a part of that leak or had appeared as evidence in Bucky’s trial, making all of it accessible to the public, if one cared enough to go digging and knew what they were looking for.
You squeezed your eyes shut and pinched the bridge of your nose, frustrated that you’d hit another brick wall. So much for finding proof. A knock on your door drew your attention and you checked your clock. Rand would have just gotten back from lunch a few minutes ago.
You stood up and walked to the door of your office, unlocking it. 
“Hey, Major,” Rand said a bit nervously. “Zadie said you wanted to see me?”
“Yeah, Rand, come in, please,” you said, motioning for him to enter and sit down. God, you really didn’t want to be having this conversation. He took the seat on the opposite side of your desk, and you sat down in your chair, folding your hands on the desk in front of you.
“I got your package,” you said, trying to keep your voice as neutral as possible.
Rand frowned in confusion. “What package?” So, he was going to play stupid.
“The envelope you had delivered to me this afternoon,” you said.
“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about, Major. I didn’t have anything sent to you.” He seemed to consider something. “Fuck– should I have? Is it, like, your birthday or something?”
Wordlessly, you slid the envelope in question across the desk to him. He gave you a puzzled look and reached down, withdrawing the stack of papers within. You watched his eyes widen in shock and disgust as he flipped through them, one by one.
“You think I sent this to you?” he asked, affronted. “Seriously?”
You shrugged. “You’ve made your feelings about me seeing Bucky no secret,” you told him. “And you were downright rude to him when he came in earlier. I can’t think of anyone else who would be warning me about who I’m seeing.”
“Major.” Rand put the stack of papers down on top of your desk. “I may not like the guy, that’s true– but I respect the shit outta you. You’re a grown ass woman, capable of making your own decisions. I don’t necessarily agree with this one in particular, but it’s still your decision to make. Besides,” he leaned back in his chair, “in all the years we’ve known each other, when have I ever had a problem telling you you’re being a dumbass directly to your face?”
He was right– you’d known Rand for ages– you’d fought in the army together, and he’d never once shied away from giving you his opinions directly and frankly, no matter how blunt they might have been. An anonymous envelope and a cryptic warning were not the way he would go about doing it.
“Fuck,” you said, putting your head in your hands. “I’m sorry, Rand. You’re right. I just– shit. I’m sorry.”
“Hey,” he said, leaning across the desk and putting a hand on your elbow, “don’t be. I get why you would have thought it was me. I can’t say I disagree with whoever sent this, but doing it without putting their name on makes them a coward. If they have a problem with you and Barnes, they should come to you directly. None of this cloak and dagger bullshit.”
You didn’t want to think about there being multiple people out there who might have a problem with you and Bucky being together, but if it wasn’t Rand (and you now truly believed it wasn’t), you’d have to face that possibility. “Still,” you said, looking up at him, “I’m sorry for accusing you without any evidence.”
Rand shrugged. “Eh, I made myself look like a pretty good suspect,” he teased. “I wouldn’t worry about it, Major,” he said, standing up to go back to work. “If they can’t even be bothered to tell you their problem to your face, they’re not worth your worry. Hell, if you can’t be swayed by an old friend like me, I say don’t let this bother you at all.”
“Thanks, Rand,” you chuckled. “I’ll take that into consideration.”
Rand nodded as he made his way to the door. “If it’s any consolation,” he added before he walked out, “Barnes really does seem to like you a lot.”
You smiled to yourself as he left, vowing to not let the anonymous sender get to you. It was quite the consolation, actually.
Quite the consolation, indeed.
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dinasfavslut · 1 year ago
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hello could you do a sal fisher x fem reader who is very confident but also really friendly?
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Ok so I tried but I wasn’t sure if you wanted smut or fluff I guess it’s just more fluff and to be completely honest is was kinda lazy with it I’m sorry it’s not my best but I hope you like it (probably will delete later)
Sally Face x Fem!r
No major warnings slight smut near the end but just like leaving marks and neck kisses
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I believe that he has many insecurities because of the trauma he experienced as a child and because of the mask he wears.
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When you go to the beach, Sal normally doesn't get in the water; he doesn't want his mask to get torn or fly off by a large wave, and if he does, he makes sure it doesn't get above his knees.
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As much as he adores you, he is also envious of your confidence and unaffected demeanor when you fall flat on your face in public. People fall all the time. So, if someone messes up your or his order when getting food, you call the waitress back so they may make the necessary corrections.
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You met for the first time in college. You could say you were popular, but it was more about how kind you were and how many friends you had. You were well-known, but not everyone knew who you were or wished to be like you. So you were sitting in chemistry as the "popular" girl next to the "quiet" guy (it's always the quiet ones). "Woah, that's such a cool mask!"
"Oh, uh, thanks."
"Did you make it yourself or get it from somewhere?"
“It’s just prosthetic." He didn't want to give into too much information since he didn't want to scare you away too quickly. He was surprised you didn't ask him what the mask was for; that hadn't come up in a long time.
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You've been dating for a few months but have only known each other for around a year."Don't you want to know why I am wearing this?"
"I mean, yeah, I've always wondered, but you haven't seemed at ease talking about why you wear it or what happened, but I think you'll tell me when you're ready."
It took him some time. He removed his mask totally about five months into the relationship. He was stunning. You couldn't help but run your fingers through his hair and kiss him like you'd wanted to for so long. His lips were surprisingly soft. Larry and Ash are the only people who have seen his face (his father is irrelevant). You're now staring at him in awe. "I knew you'd look lovely, but I really underestimated myself." He drew you back into the embrace. It was brimming with passion, love, hunger, and lust.
-
You feel like it was harder not to kiss him. Consider how many times he's wanted to pull off the mask and make out with you, but he couldn't be too concerned about how you'd scream in fright or slap him for leading you on for so long just to be mortified under his mask. He was well aware that they were ridiculous ideas.
-
It was dark and rainy outside, and he had planned to take you out to a nice meal. You had your hair done perfectly, your makeup was simple, highlighting your best features, and you wore a dress that accentuated all of your curves as well as a pair of sneakers to look attractive while remaining comfortable. He was driving with his headlights on, barely able to see due to the heavy rain. "Holy shit, Sal! Stop the car, Sal!" He pushed on the brakes, forcing himself forward as you jumped out of the car. A cat was frozen in front of the car; it was dark, wet, and shivering. You cloaked it in a hoodie.
Your hair was a mess, and what you thought was smear-proof mascara was running down your cheeks. "We don't have to go if you don't want us to."
“No no, I'll just put my hair up and clean my make-up." You walked into the restaurant, garnering strange looks as if you'd been living on the street. "sal table for two?"
The night finished with you leaving markings all over him and him biting into your neck, which was okay because you were willing to wear anything that claimed you as his.
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look-at-the-soul · 1 year ago
Text
Can’t love in the dark (Part 2)
Tommy Shelby x reader
Sequel to “All I ask”
Request: kind of 🤭 @l1-l4 Andy threw a fantastic idea one day and I saw it, and from that moment I’ve been thinking about it daily… until this idea worked perfectly with another request for my Adele challenge ♥️ Andy, you asked for an angsty story, here you go! I hope you and everyone else like it 🥰 that gif was amazing and summed Tommy’s anger.
Summary: (There’s a time jump between this and the first part) Tommy keeps watching over Y/N, sending flowers, even after getting married to someone else. Until one day he exploded after finding the truth that caused a terrible accident.
“Can’t love in the dark” is one of my favorite Adele songs, the sentiment she sings with every time she performs it on stage gives me chills 🥹
⚠️ Angst but with a little surprise at the end 🤭
Word count: 4,727 (without the lyrics)
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Making the decision to let Tommy go was the hardest thing you ever had to do, but it was for the best, or at least you tried to convince yourself of that. Crying your heart out at night you tried to comfort yourself by thinking that his baby would be able to grow next to his father. Forcing yourself to push aside the feelings and expectations you started to develop towards Tommy and the future he had shared with you that’d be taking off right after the races.
He’d have another priorities from now on.
The following day you quit your part time job at the Shelby Company Ltd. and focused entirely on the shoes shop. Tommy tried absolutely everything in his power but all he got in response was a sad glance that broke his heart or you leaving him at the shop speaking to himself while you pretended to be busy in the back.
There was nothing to be angry or resentful towards him, he slept with Grace before meeting you after all… but deep down you wished it was you instead of her the one getting pregnant.
With a heavy heart you thought how you could only dream of what could’ve been.
You had been on the edge ever since, struggling to sleep, eating the bare minimum, you felt like a fragile thing that’d break at the slightest contact, trying to hide from your poor father the sadness that you carried around like a heavy weight on your shoulders.
Nothing seemed to be working out the way he had planned. Not after you made it very clear that the future he had envisioned of the two of you together wasn’t possible, he held the hopes still, thinking you’d accept the marriage proposal and he could be there for his son, but you quickly let him him know that was way too modern and looked extremely bad for you. He tried convincing you over and over, assuring that it would be just fine because it was you the one he wanted to get married to, not Grace.
There was nothing he could say would convince you otherwise.
But what really hit him was that one time when you on the edge of crying asked him to leave, you actually yelled at him frustrated because it was too damn painful to accept the fact that he didn’t belong to you, you accepted out loud that you were jealous of Grace for giving him something you wouldn’t.
As weeks went by, he got the news that Grace’s husband ended with his own life, he decided to not get involved in that matter but it was hard to stay away at the same time because she was pregnant with his baby. She was deeply affected by the way events turned out, constantly on the edge and his major concern was the wellbeing of his unborn child so he did everything he could to ensure it. One thing led to the other and he ended up getting married with Grace because it was the right thing to do.
So here he was, stuck in a marriage for the wrong reasons, thinking of another woman, dreaming of another woman that was slowly, little by little slipping away from him. It was impossible to focus on the fucking papers in front of him, work had been pilling up because he was always looking for a ridiculous excuse to see you, even from afar.
Polly stormed into her nephew’s office fuming after learning that he had blinders guarding Y/N when she took the train to the south to see a new vendor. Despite what happened, Polly still had a good relationship with her.
“It’s been over a year Thomas, you have to let her go, you got married to Grace, have a son now… Y/N needs to live her life, rebuild and start over.”
“What the fuck do you mean start over?” He squinted his eyes, blowing away the smoke of his cigarette.
“Oh! Please don’t play dumb with me, do you really expect her to remain single forever?”
The realization sinking in, it felt as if he got kicked in the gut. The long gulp of whiskey didn’t help.
“No… no, there can’t be another man in her life.”
“Are you even listening to what you say?! She deserves to be happy!”
“What do you know? Ey?!”
“There’s someone who’s interested in her but he can’t get close because of your bloody guards!” Polly exploded.
Jaw clenched at the thought of another man starting to court you. No, anything but that.
“I’ve to protect her.” Tommy leant on his desk with palms wide open. Head hanging low.
“You lost her and all for your stupid revenge towards the woman you’re married now!”
“I never thought she would get pregnant, trust me that wasn’t my intention.”
“But it’s too late now for that… just let the girl move on.” Turning on her heels she walked towards the door. “And be more discreet, the maids keep gossiping about how you are sleeping in the guest room.”
****
Hearing the bell, you called from the back of the room; “The store is closed now, I just forgot to change the sign” but you cut yourself after finding him at the other side of the counter.
“Y/N… please.”
Take your eyes off of me so I can leave
I'm far too ashamed to do it with you watching me
Defeated, you gave up, manners long forgotten. “How many times do I have to tell you that you’re not welcomed here anymore?”
Your attitude made him remember the first time he saw you and Tommy had to hide the smirk that was about to appear on his lips.
Please, stay where you are
Don't come any closer
“Just leave, Thomas, for good.” You pointed at the door. “Goodness, sometimes I wish you could keep your fucking promise and burn this fucking place down so I would’ve a reason to go away.” You admitted with anger, pacing the small shop.
Don't try to change my mind
I'm being cruel to be kind
“I could never do that to you.”
“That look doesn’t charm me anymore, your shoes are new, I bet all bloody Birmingham has new shoes so you really don’t have anything else to do here.”
“I want to help you.”
“Don’t.” You stated bluntly. “I don’t want your help or anything for the matter.”
“When I look around and see all I got, I should be pleased by the way things turned out. But I can’t… because I’m not sharing it with you.”
He was sincere and genuine, you knew that.
“Those were your dreams, not mine.” You added one more -an unnecessary- coat of product to clean the shoes, just to distract you from his gaze.
“Polly mentioned you need to move on. But I can’t let you go.” He was selfish without question, but those strong feelings for you didn’t go away even after marrying Grace.
“So I assume you’ll just go and use that razor blade in any potential man I lay my eyes on.”
“That’s not a bad idea, I’ll consider it thanks.” He added with a smile, loving the irritation in your eyes.
“What do you want Thomas?”
“You.”
It was one word but it included everything he really wanted.
“And what do you suggest then? You want me to be your mistress? That’s not going to happen.”
“Y/N…”
Emotions got the best of her, her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t love you in the dark.”
“Do you nee-”
I can't love you in the dark
It feels like we're oceans apart
There is so much space between us
Baby, we're already defeated
Shaking your head you gave him a warning look. “If you don’t leave right now, I’m going to start throwing shoes at your head for real.”
That was an image he would’ve loved to see, and deep down he knew you would do it without a doubt. So he decided to save himself the embarrassment and headed to the door, but before he even got to open the door, he turned to give you one more look.
Everything changed me
“Please just don’t kiss him the same way you kissed me… cause if you do, you’ll remember me.”
Your fist closed around the shoe you had been holding, way to expensive to throw it away, so instead you threw the brush you had been using. Letting out a groan in frustration.
Time didn’t make it any easier to forget him, all the opposite the feelings for him seemed to be stronger than ever, you wouldn’t stand between him and his son. You returned every single present and basket with fruits and flowers he sent over the last months right after reading every note he added to whatever the present was. His words were tattooed in your heart.
You have given me something that I can't live without
You mustn't underestimate that when you are in doubt
If only he didn’t see Grace back then, you’d be enjoying life together.
****
“You wanted to see me Tommy?” Scudboat poked his head from the door.
“Come in, close the door.” As he saw the blinder step in, he took a long swing of his whiskey, the liquid burning. “I need you to ask your wife to go to Y/N’s shoes shop.”
“Again?” Asked in shock Scudboat, he just went last week, but as Tommy gave him a dead stare, he hid his hands in his pockets.
“Yes, again, but ask her to go on Monday after eleven o’clock that’s after Y/N left for the market, and it will take her a while to go back to the shop and you’ll give her mother this money.” Tommy planned. He knew you’d go then to prepare lunch for your father and eat with him, then you’d take over the shoe shop while your mother returned home.
Tommy knew every single step you took, at what time you got the newspaper and each vendor you’d visit. Yet, you were so far away from him.
It was unfair for you, he knew that. He’d never ask you to be his mistress or anything, he just wished to find a fucking way to get you back. It was hard also for him to admit there was a time when he thought that maybe, just maybe over time he’d learn to love Grace like he used to years ago, but deep down he knew he’d never fully forgive her for betraying him. Let alone having a son together would make their marriage work.
But I don't want to carry on like everything is fine
The longer we ignore it, all the more that we will fight
“What happened Johnny?” Tommy cleared his throat getting anxious by the minute.
“Ehh you won’t like I-” Johnny muttered but he cut himself off when Grace stepped into the office.
“Tommy…” she looked over at Johnny several times, like trying to give him a hint to leave them. “It’s getting late.”
He found it extremely annoying to get interrupted, leaning back in his chair he flicked his cigarette. “I know.”
“Are you coming to say goodnight to Charlie?” She tried batting her eyelashes at him, the sweetest smile on her lips.
“Later, I’m working.”
“Bu-”One annoyed look and a loud sigh and Grace brought a hand to the end of her hair to disguise her disappointment. “Alright.”
Rolling his shoulders, Tommy looked at Johnny again. “So?”
“Tom I don’t like this, why can’t you just leave the poor girl alone? You’ve a family now, a boy.”
But Tommy kept shaking his head. “I’m paying you to watch her and report her moves to me, not asking if you like it or not.”
Polly knew him, his uncle Charlie was able to read him like the palm of his hand, but Johnny couldn’t understand the motives to keep tracking Y/N down.
“You broke up a year ago, got married… there’s no reason to-”
“Johnny, I’m not going to ask you again.” He dragged the words, if it wasn’t for the desk between them, he would’ve Johnny Dogs by the collar of his shirt now.
“Y/N is dating someone.” Johnny murmured, keeping his head down.
A heavy silence filled the Arrow House office.
Please, don't fall apart
I can't face your breaking heart
Tommy got up from his chair and walked quietly towards the window finding darkness only.
“Who is he?” He asked with more control than he expected.
Johnny made a face. “Don’t do this to yourself Tommy, let her move on.”
The man with icy eyes gave him a side look, it was enough to make him talk.
“He’s a Doctor, respectable, good background, treats her right, sends flowers every four or five days, walks with her to the park on Wednesdays and Fridays, on Saturday he goes in for dinner but leaves right after that. On Sundays she brings him food to the hospital and...”
“Apple pie?” Tommy completed while Johnny nodded.
Tommy knew the fucking recipe from start to finish, he could almost smell it and his mouth watered by the simple memory of how it tasted.
Did she give the doctor a small piece with her fork like she used to do with him?
Did she kiss the corner of his mouth after having a bite to remove the remains of sugar?
“That’s all Johnny, thank you.” He swallowed hard, memories making his chest ache.
Johnny wondered if he should also tell Tommy another thing he found out while following them.
Stopping right in front of the heavy door, Johnny twisted the peaky cap between his hands.
“He bought a ring two days ago Tommy.”
“Johnny,” His emotionless voice stopped him, “don’t follow her, you can go back to the gypsy camp.”
Once alone, Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose, defeated he took the glass of whiskey upstairs.
Looking at his son sleeping in his crib he couldn’t help but wonder why he made the mistake of fucking Grace that one time, he swore he could contain himself and he’d only use her to drive Campbell mad. But no, he was weak and the only time they were together she got pregnant. This wasn’t supposed to be how he envisioned his life, he wanted to date you, then propose to you, get married and start a family… you had been there for him to pick up the broken pieces from the ground that Grace left. Somehow you managed to make him softer, showed him he could trust and love again.
It wasn’t a surprise when you took a step back, didn’t accept his apologies, didn’t want to hear his explanations, packing your belongings from his office the very same night of the races, and closed the doors to your heart.
He begged, was willing to get on his knees to ask for forgiveness but you wouldn’t listen. His first mistake was to sleep with Grace that night, the second, marry her because she was with a child.
Was he being selfish? How could he let you go when you got so deep inside his heart?
You were slipping away from him, little by little, if you officially started a relationship with someone else, that man won’t waste time after realizing how fucking awesome you were, and if that happened, there was nothing left he could do to get you back.
I can't love you in the dark
It feels like we're oceans apart
There is so much space between us
“Why don’t you come to bed, Tommy?” Grace circled his desk and slipped her arms around his neck from behind. “It’s late.”
“In a minute.” He replied pretending to look at the papers scattered over the oak desk.
“I think you sho-”
“I said in a fucking minute!” He lost it.
Grace made a little jump when he raised his voice. “I heard what you said, I’m just trying to be a good wife.”
“Don’t try, Grace… just don’t try.” He added sharply.
“I’m doing everything I’m supposed to be doing Tommy, I take care of our house, look over Charlie, I make sure you’ve everything you need and yet I’m always alone here and when my husband is finally home by the end of the day I want him to take care of me.”
Tommy saw Grace toying with her wedding band.
“I’ve a load shit to do, alright?”
“Is that true or are you sleeping with some whore around?”
Her accusation made him snap his head at her. “What did you just said?”
“You haven’t even touch me in weeks…”
He wanted to sarcastically laugh at her question. You wouldn’t let him set a foot in your shop, let alone sleep in your bed.
“The way I see it, if you’re not with me that means you’re fucking someone else. Just tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”
He didn’t have the balls to say that the last time they slept together, he fantasized it was you instead of her, your name almost slipped out of his lips. But it would’ve drive Grace mad.
“I’m trying to go legal, Grace. That’s all… just go to sleep.”
“Tomm-” She started again but he cut her off.
“Don’t make me repeat myself again.”
Before she left, Tommy could swear he heard a sob but he was busy emptying the whiskey in his glass as he stared into the fire absently. Throwing his head back atop of the couch he wondered if you were by yourself that night.
The following day Grace insisted on joining him to visit his beloved horse, who was being trained at another facility. She started telling Charlie he’d see horses and the kid got too excited to advice her against the idea.
“… as I walked into the jewelry, I saw these lovely earrings that match perfectly…” Grace chatted non stop as they were on their way to the stables. He was looking forward a quiet day, but Grace had other ideas.
He just wished she could sleep just like Charlie was doing in her arms.
“Are you listening?”
Tommy dragged his eyes from the road to look at Grace for an instant, snapping out of his own thoughts.
“Yeah.”
“So what do you think?”
Shuddering, he took a long puff from his cigarette, feeling the smoke burn in his throat.
“I knew it, Tommy… you’re not paying attention.”
“Can you please stop this?!”
“Don’t raise your voice, you’ll wake up Charlie.” She tried but it was too late, the kid was already fussing. “See what you did?”
“You started this.” He pointed angrily.
“Shh, shh Charlie don’t cry.” Grace tried to get his boy settled, luckily he found a couple of horses out there.
“Look over there Charlie.” Tommy pointed. “There’s a horse.”
“Joshiee.” Charlie repeated, clapping.
Stopping the car, Tommy took Charlie in his arms, leaving Grace behind him. The gentleman in him wouldn’t be proud. But each passing day it was harder to pretend that he cared.
Placing his son on the ground, Tommy offered his hand to guide him.
“Come ‘ere.” Pointing at the fishes in the water trough, Tommy looked at the kid smiling with his chubby hand extended. “Goldfish keep the water clean.” He explained as if Charlie could understand. Grace joined them minutes later.
“I’ve been thinking… we should go away, for a family holiday.” Grace proposed brushing away a lock from her face.
Tommy shook his head instantly.
“Can’t do that, I’ve lots of work to do.”
“For a few days.” She tried again.
“No, you can go with Charlie though.”
Grace unamused expression didn’t have any effect on him. He was used by now.
*****
Tommy felt a rush of adrenaline through his body as he pushed past the people gathered on the street. The flames consuming the small shop, people trying to use buckets to attempt to extinguish the fire.
“Y/N!” Was all he could think of as he was desperately looking around for you.
We're not the only ones, I don't regret a thing
Every word I've said, you know I'll always mean
Everything was chaos.
Someone shoved him from behind, but since he let his guard down, he never noticed. An angry voice called for him and he recognized it right away.
“You must be happy now, finally kept your promise of burning my place down… MY MOTHER WAS INSIDE! You bastard! Get outta here!” Your fist landed on his chest as he was trying to process everything.
Tommy felt a rush of relief wash over him as he saw you were alive, but then he got in defensive mode.
“You destroyed years of hard work! My grand parents opened this store, my father started here cleaning shoes until he got a promotion and met my mother.” You spat with tears in your eyes, not caring about the venom and anger in your voice, or the people staring. “I HATE YOU THOMAS SHELBY, and I hope you pay for this.”
“I didn’t do this.” He let out a heavy sigh, shocked by your accusation.
His heart was shattered to know you thought he could do something like this. His stomach turned into a tight knot as he found the disappointment in your eyes.
“As if I didn’t know you, leave for good and don’t you ever come back.” You spat with anger oozing from every pore.
It is the world to me that you are in my life
But I want to live and not just survive
Walking backwards, he stumbled with someone who was trying to help. On his way to his vehicle he saw your mother sitting next to another woman on bench, at least she wasn’t injured.
“Find whoever did this.” Tommy instructed one of the blinders before leaving the place, he still couldn’t believe this was happening, but he had an engagement to attend and besides there was nothing he could do if you didn’t want him there.
Rushing into Arrow House he needed to hurry up to be on time, luckily Frances had his outfit prepared. The phone had been ringing in his office, but he really needed to get out of the house as soon as possible, after adjusting the last touches to his tuxedo, he moved to walk around the car, finding Grace already waiting for him. She welcomed him with a smile and a kiss that took him by surprise, there was something in her eyes different, it seemed like she didn’t had been bothering him about another woman in his life.
“Everything will get better for us after tonight Tommy, I just know.” She checked her reflection.
He doubted it was a possibility, but decided to have a peaceful night for once, specially at an event like this. He needed to raise funds.
“Where have you been? You were almost late.” She asked casually disturbing the peace he was looking for.
“Had some trouble at the shop. Finn messed up.” He lied.
“Hmm that’s weird, I looked for you there and couldn’t find you.”
“Went to the Garrison afterwards, that’s the reason I was late.” The lies slipped from his lips so easily.
She wanted to add something else, but Polly intercepted him by the door. “Scudboat has been looking for you, he looked deadly worried but wouldn’t tell me what’s going on.”
“Polly not now, please.” Turning around his head, he found the city Council leader with Grace.
And as they engaged in conversation, Tommy’s gaze was fixed by the entrance, as Father John Hughes and that insufferable MP entered. He couldn’t even stand to watch them, they weren’t welcome so he better hurry up to finish whatever the hell they’re wanted.
“Brother you need to know something.” Arthur whispered into his ear pushing him towards the staircase for some privacy.
With a heavy sigh, Tommy shook his head. “Not now Arthur, I can’t deal with anything else right now.” He spotted his wife talking to that mad Duchess.
“It was Grace.” Arthur admitted.
Confused, Tommy gave him a long look.
“Grace started the fire at the shoes shop, she saw a woman inside and thought it was Y/N. Someone recognized her.”
His head was spinning, anger building up and reaching unknown limits. Everything was so confusing, the bile rising up in his throat. Y/N could’ve been dead by now.
Storming like a bull he pushed past the people to find his wife.
“Come with me.” He grabbed Grace by the arm roughly making her gasp.
“Tommy I was talking to-”
“Why are you so worked up Mr. Shelby?” Tatiana smirked. His head was pounding. “I was telling your wife about the sapphire she’s wearing.”
“Tatiana said it’s Russian.” Grace interjected eager to participate.
And somehow the conversation escalated quickly, Tatiana kept pushing Grace’s buttons but at the moment he needed to keep the Duchess at bay. He’d deal with his wife’s jealousy later.
Scanning the room, he found Ada, fucking finally! Now he needed to deal with a spoiled princess he thought unamused. As his sister charmed Grace about a fucking donation, he tried to convince Tatiana it was a bad idea to go to the factory, but she was stubborn and had certain urgency to fuck him. There was nothing more discouraging than a woman selling herself off.
He was done. Fucking done of everything; the economic league, the duchess, his wife’s lies. This woman was absolutely mad
But time stopped as the duchess told him the sapphire had been cursed by a Gypsy. His ears were ringing, a shiver ran down his spine. Tommy had lost his faith back in France, but if there was one thing he believe in was spirits and Gypsy curses.
Speechless, he reached his wife in a few long strides.
“We need to talk.” Waving his hands anxiously he pointed at Grace’s necklace. “Take it off.”
“No, why?” Grace hissed visibly pissed off. “Tommy you gave it to me. Why are you doing this? You want to give it to someone else?”
“Here we fucking go.” He scoffed bothered. “I don’t fucking care, you want me to say this in front of them? Fine, I’ll tell you what I just learned.”
Anger was boiling inside of him, he simply didn’t care anymore.
He couldn’t explain the real reasons behind his request. “You told me you stopped by the office earlier huh?” He glanced someone passing towards the grand salon for diner. “But you forgot to mention that afterwards you stopped by at a shoes shop, the last place where a woman like you would be, Grace.” Looking up at the ceiling he blew the air he had been holding. “You started a fire at that shoes shop and don’t even try to lie, because people saw you.”
Grace’s features contorted. “Yes, I did it… because you’re distant with me, I know you wanted to marry that shoe saleswoman.”
Tommy saw red. “Yeah, I was going to marry her and when she heard you were pregnant she took a step back, walked away from me. That’s the biggest and selfless act of love.”
That's why I can't love you in the dark
“And where would you be today if it wasn’t for me?” She asked with her jaw clenched.
“Right here with her giving a beautiful speech about kindness.”
“I’m glad she’s dead by now.” She attempted to walk away, but Tommy took her by the shoulders.
“You should be thankful sh-”
“I don’t care about anything related to her.” Grace replied.
“Well, you should.”
“And why would I care about her?”
“BECAUSE I CARE ABOUT HER!” He lost control, Polly turned her head around at the shouting. “MORNING, NOON, AND NIGHT… I CARE ABOUT HER.”
Grace walked backwards, looking down.
“You’re lucky she wasn’t at the shop, she’s alive and I’m going to find her after the gala is over.” Tommy admitted triumphantly.
A man stormed in his direction out of the blue.
“For Angel!” He shouted right before firing his weapon.
The gunshot echoed in every corner of the room.
In the middle of the chaos, Tommy noticed Grace’s body leaned against him harshly, there was blood everywhere and people screaming. Tommy fell to the floor by the impact and Grace’s weightless body.
He called for help, and ambulance, anyone but Grace was already gone…
Someone took her lifeless body away from him and he wasn’t able to react, he remained frozen on spot in a corner. Replaying the images over and over.
Y/N swallowed hard after debating the entire afternoon whether if you were doing the right thing or not, yet here you stood if front of the venue where the Shelby family was leading a gala to raise funds to help people in need. One of the many dreams Tommy had shared with you.
Once the fire was controlled and people started to leave, one of the blinders who helped your mother to come out of it unharmed to let you know it had been Tommy’s wife the one who caused it, not him.
And guilt had been eating you alive ever since.
You needed to apologize for all the terrible things you said to him. You didn’t hate him, said it out of anger.
“Y/N! Oh, there’s been a tragedy… Grace is dead.”
****
A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I’m so happy the first part was so well accepted, hoping this following part will like you too… did you see that coming? If you have a few minutes, I’d LOVE to hear what you think!
Master list
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flightlessangelwings · 11 months ago
Text
His Strength
Din Djarin x fem!reader
Word count- 3.8k
Dialogue prompt- “ hey! get away from them! “ and “ don’t worry about me; are YOU okay? “ Action prompt- [ SACRIFICE ]: sender sacrifices themselves, either fatally or otherwise, in order to save the receiver’s life.
Warnings-s.mut (18+ ONLY!), fwb to lovers, protective!Din, bounty hunter reader, injury, brief violence, brief torture scene (not super descriptive and no needles or anything like that), light angst, happy ending, mutual pining, feelings, no use of y/n, ambiguous on where in the timeline it is but razor crest lives
Notes- We made it, this is the last of my Year of Protectiveness @yearofcreation2023! I actually had a different idea at first, but after some personally tragedy, I wanted to write something a little more angtsy. Don't worry tho it's still a happy ending and no major character death! Thanks so much to those who have supported this year theme endeavor with me!
@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so feel free to follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date!
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~
When you first partnered with a Mandalorian bounty hunter in the guild, you never expected how much it would change your life. What started as a one time alliance for convenience turned into a partnership built on mutual respect for the other. And everything changed even more the day Mando came to you asking for help with a child he had taken in. He had told you what happened, and how he made the decision to save the child instead, and it awoke something within you that day. Even as he rescued the child from the Client, you stayed by his side and as the two of you traveled the galaxy, you felt the dynamic shift between you two.
It changed the Mandalorian that day too. From under the armor, he had always respected you, but seeing you with the child made him feel something he had never felt before. He found that his gaze lingered on you when you weren’t looking, and he found himself wondering what life would be like if you and the child could stay with him forever… as a family. 
Neither of you were sure when it happened. You were just partners one moment, and the next, became something more. There was never a whisper of it spoken out loud, though, just both of you knew something shifted. Even if it was simply for release, it changed everything between you two. He even murmured his real name to you in the throws of passion- a gift you treasured and kept safe in your heart. 
*
Sweat lined your brow as you writhed beneath the Mandalorian. His low grunts echoed from under his helmet while you bit your lip to stifle your moans. Din, as always, never took anything off, only freed his cock. You stayed mostly covered as well, something you wondered if he did to keep things feeling leveled, as if he didn’t want to feel like he was overpowering you. Only your bottoms came off, and even then they stayed around your ankles.
It started fast, heated, and fiery. The first time you and Din slept together was quick, as if you were both concerned with the moment running away from you. He just pushed your pants down enough and took you against the wall. And even with the rush, it was still a more intimate connection you had ever felt in your life. You couldn’t tell at the time, but Din felt the same way.
Over time, it moved from the wall to Din’s bunk, and from hot and hurried to slow and sensual. Din at times handled you with sure care that you wondered if he thought you would break. The way he caressed every inch of you made your heart flutter in your chest as you looked at him with a glazed over expression. Neither of you were sure when exactly it happened, but something changed as the two of you came together time and time again.
You felt it with every thrust of his cock. Though you never saw his face, you felt the emotions behind his movements and his touch. You looked into the darkness of his vizor, locking eyes with him behind it. A louder moan escaped your lips as he rocked into you again, filling you to the brim.
“Din…” you murmured as you ran your hands across his chest.
“I’ve got you,” he groaned in a low tone that went right to your core.
You whimpered at the care that lined his voice. Moving before you could second guess yourself, you let go of his broad shoulders and reached down for your own top. You grabbed and pulled it over yourself in one swift movement, exposing more of your body to Din.
He paused as his helmet nodded up and down as he soaked in the sight of your bare chest, “You’re beautiful,” he groaned as his hands wandered across your breasts. 
Mirroring your action, Din surprised you by quickly removing his gloves so that he could touch your bare skin. Both of you gasped when his large hand cupped your jaw first, then trailed down to your breast. He remained inside you yet stayed still as both of you froze in the moment. Din’s thumb brushing across your nipple was the only movement save for the way both your chests expanded with your heavy breaths.
A whimper escaped your lips as Din caressed your breast, gently pinching your nipple as he fondled you. He worshiped your body with his touch and you could hear the heavy breaths from under his helmet. Heat rose between the two of you as he kneaded your breasts.
Din murmured your name as his hand trailed up your chest and along your arms until he took your hand in his. Leaning forward, Din pressed his forehead against yours as he covered your body with his own and resumed his thrusts.
This time, you couldn’t hold back your moans. Between the way he pounded into you and the emotions that came with the intimacy of the moment, you couldn’t help the way you cried out. Din’s cock hit spots deep inside you that you never felt before, and it brought tears to your eyes.
“Fuck… Din…”
“I know,” he groaned, “Me too…”
His hand clasped around yours as he sped up his thrusts, rocking into you with abandon. You arched your back into him as you squeezed his hand right back, and your eyes fluttered shut as you felt your climax quickly approach. 
“Din… I’m…” was all you could get out before your orgasm hit you. Your entire body trembled under his beskar-clad one as you came hard on his cock. Your cries echoed in the small space as you felt Din hit your sweet spot over and over again, making you feel a pleasure unlike anything you ever experienced before.
Din growled your name as his hips became more erratic until he too hit his peak. He dropped down onto his elbows, all while never letting go of your hand as he felt wave after wave of pleasure crash through him as he spilled himself deep inside you.
Heavy breaths filled the small space between your bodies as Din rode out your orgasms together. With one final deep thrust, Din groaned as he stilled himself for a moment until he pulled out of you completely. You let out a soft whine at the loss as you felt your body pulse from the aftershocks of your powerful climax.
He gave your hand one last squeeze before he finally let go, and Din immediately grabbed your shirt so that you could cover yourself.
Mumbling a hushed “thanks,” you maneuvered yourself in the tiny space to dress yourself, slipping your shirt on before shimmying your pants back up. Vaguely, you felt Din’s gaze on you as he helped you move around on the cot. For a moment, you didn’t dare look at him. The emotions were too overwhelming after what happened. Something changed in the air between you two, but neither of you were sure how to address it.
That was when you noticed his hand still lingered on your body, holding you tightly. “Din…” you started in a whisper.
But you were interrupted when a coo from a distance made you both look up. Grugu babbled happily as he made his way outward the bunk and climbed in, settling himself in between you two.
You smiled brightly as you finally looked at Din, “We didn’t wake him did we?” you asked in embarrassment.
“I hope not,” he replied with a soft laugh in his tone, “I’m sure it’s fine,” he reassured you. 
You couldn’t help but giggle as the little child made himself comfortable between the two of you. Faintly, you heard his laughter with yours and it made your heart soar.
Din tilted his head affectionately, “Rest now,” he cradled your face, “We all need some sleep.”
Swallowing hard, you nodded. Wiggling your way around where Grogu already made himself comfortable, you laid down on your side and exhaled deeply. Din did the same after you were settled and he placed himself so that he could wrap his arm around both you and the child, holding you both close, keeping you both safe.
“Goodnight,” you murmured before you drifted off. Surprisingly, it took you no time to fall asleep, perhaps because you were warm and comfortable… and safe.
The Mandalorian, however, laid awake for some time, just listening to you and Grugu sleep. Everything he could ever want in the galaxy was tucked safely in his arms, yet it all felt so far at the same time. He knew neither you nor the child were truly his, yet he felt like the three of you were already a family. If you only knew just how much you meant to him… 
*
“I have a bad feeling about this,” you mumbled.
Din glanced over at you, but said nothing. He placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze before he stepped in front of you. 
The alleyway felt like it closed in around you. Dim lights led the way as you, Din and Grogu tracked the fob and the bustle of the city faded into the distance. It was quiet, but not calming. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something felt wrong, and everything in you screamed to turn around.
Din's presence anchored you, though, and you stayed at his side as you carefully made your way toward where the fob guided you. With each step, it beeped louder until you all turned down one last alley that led to a small shack.
“Careful,” Din hissed under his breath to you.
You and Din each hovered your hands over your weapons, ready to strike. Din scanned the area, and when he found no movement, he nodded to you and opened the door slowly. You held your breath as the two of you pointed your blasters into the small space, ready for anything. However, as you inched closer, you noticed that the target laid still. Scrunching your brows, you reached a hand out to check, and with a sigh you turned back to Din, “He’s already dead.”
Din let out a soft grunt. You were right- something was off about this. But, before he could even reply, an explosion knocked both of you off balance. He shouted your name as he instinctively tried to reach for you, but you were knocked too far away from him.
A yelp escaped your throat as you found yourself thrown against the nearby wall. You groaned as your body ached, but you forced yourself up onto your elbows. Grogu’s pram was pushed next to you, and through the smoke in the distance where the front wall used to be, you saw numerous shadows appear. Din laid on the ground on the other side of the space, groaning as he too pushed himself back up.
Acting quickly, you shot up to your feet and grabbed onto the pram, “Get out of here, Grogu,” you told him and you gathered your strength, “Get out of here and get help,” you strained as you pushed the pram as hard as you could, sending it hurling out the window and into the darkness. You watched it disappear for a moment before you turned to your companion, “Din,” you breathed.
He looked over at you, but before he could even say your name, another figure appeared behind you and knocked you unconscious. Din yelled, both in fear and in anger, and attacked the enemies with everything he had, fighting until he too found his world completely black.
*
You felt the pain before you opened your eyes; your entire body ached. Faintly, you heard voices and clamoring around you, and it took you several seconds to blink your eyes open. When you did, you found yourself in a brightly lit room with several men around you. Gasping, you tried to move, but you found yourself strapped down- your wrists were bound at your sides and your ankles were tied at the end of the table you currently laid on.
“You joined us just in time,” a sinister voice spoke.
Snapping your head in the direction of the voice, you saw a tall man with a rod in his hands. The rod sparked at the end, and you knew immediately what it was for. You spat a curse at him as you struggled to get out of your binds, but that only amused him.
“She’s feisty,” he commented, “I see why you keep her around, Mando,” he moved aside to reveal Din behind him, also bound but in a different way.
The Mandalorian was on his knees, his wrists cuffed together in front of him, and several men strained to keep him in place. His shoulders rose and fell with deep breaths, and you could hear the snarl in his breathing.
“Maybe now you can tell us where the child is,” the man continued as he stepped towards you, the rod pointing right at you.
“Get away from her!” Din shouted, “Let her go!”
He ignored him, the rod hovering just above your skin, “Let’s hear how pretty you are when you scream,” he hissed.
“No!” Din struggled in vain as he tried to break free.
The searing pain from the rod against your skin made you scream before you could fight it. Pulse after pulse of electricity shot through your entire body, and it was the worst pain you had ever felt in your life. Your eyes snapped shut as you tried to wriggle away, but it was no use. You were trapped, and there was nothing you or Din could do.
Your screams went right to Din’s chest, “Stop!” he shouted. Fueled by his rage at seeing you hurt, Din finally broke free of his captors and with a grunt, knocked them out. “It’s me you want. Leave her alone,” Din panted, “Don’t hurt her.”
Din smashed the binders that held his wrists together, shattering it, before he grabbed his small vibroblade that he kept hidden. The room turned into a frenzy as the other men attacked him, but he fought them off until he reached the leader, the one who hurt you.
Amused at the scene, the leader pulled out a blade of his own and countered Din's attack, “Is this… love, Mandalorian?” he asked as he parried Din's attack.
The Mandalorian just growled as rage consumed him. He went blade to blade with the leader a few times, but he soon made a mistake. Din glance over at you, still bound to the table with tears in your eyes. He hesitated for just a moment as the sight of you like that broke him, and that was when the leader stuck, stabbing Din right between the plates of his armor.
“Has a woman made you soft?” he teased in a low voice as he drove the blade deeper, "How sweet," he spat.
Your eyes went wide as your mouth opened to let out a scream, but nothing came out. Instead, all you could croak out was a hushed, "Din..."
Tears fell from your eyes as you wailed and thrashed in your binds, desperate to do something. Maniacal laughter filled the room as Din slumped down, the blade still in his body. You whimpered as you tried to fight through the pain that coursed through your body and free yourself, but it was no use. This was the end. And you didn’t even get to tell him…
Suddenly, the wall on the far side burst open in an explosion and dozens of Karga’s men flooded into the room. They fought off your captors in a heated fight. And through the flames and blaster fire, you saw the familiar outline of the child, who waddled over to you. It was the last thing you saw before you passed out from the pain. 
*
Din woke with a gasp. The last thing he remembered was getting stabbed, hearing you scream and then an explosion. He had no idea where he was, but he did notice that his hands weren’t bound anymore. And the pain had dulled to an ache in his side. But, more than his own injuries, he was more concerned with where you were. Thankfully for him, your voice was the next thing he heard.
“Din,” you gasped, “It’s alright, we’re ok,” you were right next to him.
Din laid back down with a groan as the pain suddenly intensified. But it didn’t matter, you were here, and you were ok. He whispered your name, “What happened?”
“Grogu found backup,” you sounded tired, “Karga and the others found us just in time.”
He groaned, “Grogu?! Where is he?”
“Shh,” you tried to calm him, knowing how much the kid meant to him, “He’s alright. He’s resting in the next room. It took a lot out of him… healing us…”
“Are you alright?” was his next question after a pause.
Your eyes went wide, “Don’t worry about me. Are you ok?”
Din cupped your face, “As long as you and the kid are alright…”
“Don’t say that,” tears filled your eyes before you could stop them. You let out a shaky breath before you added, “Din, you… You sacrificed yourself… For me…” your voice trembled. 
He groaned as he slowly pushed himself up to sit. You mumbled incoherent concerns as you helped him up, and once Din was upright, he found himself almost eye level with you due to the height of the cot. Din let out a heavy sigh as his heart skipped a beat in his chest at the way you looked at him. Though he hated to see tears in your eyes, he noticed the care and concern that highlighted your features.
“Din…” you breathed as he cupped your face once more.
As he gently cradled your face in his hand, Din murmured, “Keeping you and Grogu safe,” he hissed slightly from the pain, “Is all that matters to me. You two are all that matter to me.” Din spoke in a sincere voice.
Fresh tears filled your eyes, but not ones of sadness. You longed to hear him say those words, and now that you heard them, the emotions became overwhelming. “I care about you too, Din,” you whispered as you leaned into his touch, feeling his thumb brush across your cheek, “You and the kid… You’re my family. My everything.”
Din let out a deep breath, “I trust you,” his tone was soft, “Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” you breathed without hesitation.
He slid his hand up your face to rest over your eyes. Your mouth dropped open as a sigh escaped your lips, but you said nothing and made no attempt to move. You put yourself completely in his hands, knowing you were safe in them. But, you gasped when you heard the hiss of his helmet, and felt the gentle breath from Din’s own lips.
Din leaned in and tenderly placed his lips over yours, using his free hand to keep his helmet covering the rest of his face. You both moaned softly into each other as you savored the feeling of your lips together for the first time. The kiss was soft and sweet, yet it held all the emotions the two of you held close to your hearts. Now that everything was out in the open, though, you and Din both felt like you could share this vulnerability with each other.
You tilted your head to the side as you placed your hands on Din’s armored chest and parted your lips in a silent invitation. Din eagerly took it and deepened the kiss by darting his tongue past your lips. He groaned into you and pushed his chest more into your body as the taste of you sent a jolt of electricity through his veins. A tear of his own slid down his face as he memorized the taste of you and the feeling of your face against his.
As much as neither of you wanted to break away, you needed air. Reluctantly, you both parted at the same time, sharing the air that you both inhaled. Din carefully pulled his helmet down and covered your eyes, taking a moment to admire the subtle features of your face as you kept your eyes closed.
“Look at me,” he said gently.
You blinked your eyes open, and knew from the way he tilted his head to the side that he was admiring you. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you felt his eyes stare at you through the darkness of the visor. “Thank you,” you whispered, “For saving my life,” you slid your hand in his.
“You never have to thank me, mesh’la,” Din murmured as he squeezed your hand and moved his free one to cup the back of your head, “I’ll always protect you,” he continued in a low tone as he guided your head closer to his until your foreheads touched. Din knew his love for you and Grugu didn't make him weak, despite what the leader said. In fact, it made him stronger than ever, it drove him to fight harder to protect you both.
You let out another deep breath as your eyes closed and you cherished the moment. Being held by Din made you feel safe and warm, even with the cold armor he wore. You felt the warmth of his touch, the warmth of his love, even through the beskar. “Let’s go see our kid,” you broke the silence with a smile in your tone.
Din let out a soft, amused huff that told you he was smiling too, “Yeah,” he murmured, “Let’s get our family back together.” 
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ladytauria · 4 months ago
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and lets do a "Tim got turned into a cat" au
your pick who picks him up and takes care of him
didn’t expect this to be the one i finished first but i’m not complaining. anyway you get a small snippet plus uh. more than 5 points xD
yknow for as much as i enjoy reading them i don’t think i’ve ever written OR plotted one out before!
hmmm… 🤔
very tempted to go damian for this one bc i love the whole. ‘see a different side of someone’ trope with animal transformation & when it comes to tim i find that trope yummiest w jason & dami lmao
hmmm, am thinking…
Tim gets turned either on patrol or while researching an object. I lean more toward the latter bc I like the idea of them finding him at his apartment or in his nest, and while that’s possible with the first option it’s easier/more likely with the second. And I like the idea of him having been stuck there for a short time lmao.
Could also be fun if maybe he was on research duty bc he had a broken/twisted/sprained arm or leg, so little cat Tim also has an injured limb… Teeny Tim cat with a li’l cast on…
Anyway! Damian and Dick are on patrol together when Babs asks them to check on Tim bc he hasn’t reported in over 24 hours and she just wants to make sure he’s good. Dami is aggravated to be interrupted but also he IS a little concerned bc Tim is generally prompt about his check-ins. And ofc when they get there there’s no sign of Tim, just a little black cat holding one of its paws kind of weird.
They look the place over, collect any evidence, etc. Damian makes some disparaging comments both to hide his own worry but ALSO to distract Dick from his. Def takes charge of the cat, bringing him back to the Cave/Manor to get him some food and medical attention. Maybe says something about Tim’s carelessness, which bothers Tim, making him growl/hiss/scratch at Damian.
Obviously how he acts with everyone around vs just with the cat is different; he’s less prickly when it’s just him & Timcat. The main inspo for me picking Damian and writing all of this was a couple of lines of dialogue that popped in my head when I read this. Something like—
“Just between you and me,” Damian says, his voice low and almost conspiratorial, “I find myself worried for Timothy as well.”
Tim’s ears prick slightly, his head raising ever so slightly off of his paw. His body has turned liquid under the touch of Damian’s hand; gentle yet firm as it runs over the length of his spine.
“For all of his faults, he would not have left you alone. Especially not if you were injured.” Damian’s hand stills, settling just under Tim’s shoulder blades. It’s a warm, comforting weight there—almost as comforting as the words themselves. A soft rumble starts in his torso.
As much as he tries not to care what Damian—what *anyone*—thinks, it… bothered Tim, that Damian believed he could be so callous. To know that it was an act is a relief.
Though it begs the question of *why*.
Damian scratches lightly behind one of Tim’s ears, and his eyes close without his meaning to. He tilts into it, sighing; the soft rumble in his ribs turning louder.
His questions will keep.
Not sure how they ultimately figure out that Tim is the cat, only that I do want Damian to be the one to figure it out. I also want Damian to end up doing a majority of sifting through Tim’s files—lol, maybe taking over for Bruce or Dick bc he didn’t like how they were doing it, and Tim being surprised at how well Damian knows him/his system. (Bc Damian has been studying him.)
Oh OH, also want Tim to decide to take advantage of being a cat to learn more about Damian since Damian talks to him a lot? So he learns more about how Damian feels about him but also more about Damian in general. But then maybe it gets awkward bc Damian maybe starts talking about Tim being pretty and how that just makes his feelings (jealousy, admiration, guilt) even MORE complicated.
Final thought: I kind of want this to be pre-Alfred the Cat? So Damian doesn’t have a cat at all, and Tim gets him one after bc “he knows Damian will take good care of it” and “he always wanted a cat growing up so maybe he could visit it sometimes…”. Cat could maybe be an apology for Tim letting the ruse go on, though I am thinking he DID try to signal early on, they just missed it? But anyway.
[ send me an au and i’ll tell you (at least) 5 things i would have happen in it ]
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in1-nutshell · 1 year ago
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Hi I love your work how would the tfp bots react to meeting a bot that has the personality of wendsday Addams
Wednesday Addams is a good character to put into Buddy. This was fun to write and think about. Here are the Autobots reaction to Wednsday Bot Buddy!
Hope you enjoy!
Autobots reacting to Bot Buddy with the personality of Wendsday Addams
SFW, platonic, slight dark themes mainly on general themes of murder and dark humor, Nothing graphic just mentions here and there, Cybertronian/ Bot reader
TFP
Optimus Prime
*Looks at dead Vehicon* “Lucky bot.”
*Concern truck noises*
Optimus is a bit concerned about the dark nature of Buddy.
He doesn’t question their allegiance. He knows that Buddy is a loyal Autobot through and through. If they wanted to be a Decepticon they would have already done it, but they haven’t. Being able strategist, Buddy truly helps when planning attacks accordingly.
They just have a peculiar taste in humor and in personality.
Optimus won’t interfere with Buddy and their passions… unless he deems it necessary.
They are just another one of his children with a different hobby than the rest.
Ratchet
“I’m fine Doctor. They only hit a major fuel line. I’ve only entered the first stage of paralyzes, it’s quite pleasant.”
“I’m sorry WHAT WAS HIT!?”
He is a bit wary of Buddy. It’s mainly their view on murder.
He doesn’t mind the dark humor or the occasional weird vibe they give off. They help Ratchet around in the lab and in any experiments since Buddy has a natural talent for science. Though he does get a bit annoyed whenever they bring up the supernatural around him.
Buddy is a regular patient in the medbay due to the fact that they downplay their injuries so much that sometimes he doesn’t even know if they get injured on purpose.
He has to physically check Buddy for any injuries whenever they leave the base. It’s a rule now, not even Optimus can stop him now.
Bumblebee
*Pointing blaster to a Vehicon* “No one gets to torment my family except for me.”
“Beeeep. Bep beep? (Aww you do care—wait what?)”
He looks up to Buddy in a way. Buddy is the oldest of the youngest group on the team. Meaning they are older than Smokescreen by default, older than Bee. Even though the three of them came from the same generation, Buddy is the older sibling.
He can tell the war did a number to Buddy over the eons, but Buddy also always had a peculiar personality that set them apart from everyone else.
He is glad that Raf has taken a liking to Buddy and vice versa. Whenever he is too busy to pick up Raf from school, he can count on Buddy to go and pick him up safe and sound.
He knows that Buddy means well in the end… its just the lengths they are willing to go and the lines they are willing to cross to do it makes him uneasy. Bumblebee knows that he can trust Buddy with his life and will do it without a second thought.
Arcee
“Time to go spider hunting.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
She doesn’t mind Buddy as a whole.
Yes, their personality isn’t something that everyone sees and associates with Autobot, but they mean well.
She is willing to defend Buddy for that.
She does get worried about Buddy when they go out into battle. She is mainly worried that one day she or one of her teammates would accidentally hit Buddy since their frame has Con written all over it.
She trusts Buddy with Jack whenever she isn’t available. At first Jack isn’t too thrilled at the idea of being with this bot that looks like they would murder him if they ever got bored. But he gets over that initial fear after a bit of one-on-one time with Buddy. Arcee is happy for both.
The sass battles between these two can get heated and brings the team to becoming the audience.
Arcee tried a dark humor battle with Buddy. It happened only once because Arcee soon realized that Buddy had a bottomless pit full of this humor. There was no way she was going to win.
Bulkhead
“Nice knife you got there. That would be absolutely great in playing autopsy.”
“Playing What!?”
Oh yeah Buddy does not put him at ease at all. Sure, as a Wrecker he too dabbles in dark humor, but Buddy is on a whole new level of dark humor.
He would hate to see what would happen if Buddy turned to the Cons side. But time and time again, he is proven wrong about them ever defecting. Especially when Buddy has a huge sift spot for the kids, Miko begins the biggest.
Miko absolutely adores this bot. She has asked Bulkhead if he cannot pick her up or Wheeljack to let Buddy pick them up.
Buddy has been named her unofficial official “Sibling from another planet”.
Buddy doesn’t seem to mind so he is fine about that. He does get a bit uneasy about the lengths they are willing to go to fulfill a plan, but other than that he is fine with them.
Wheeljack
“You okay there, kid? You look half dead.”
“I’m always half dead Wheeljack.”
Oh yeah finally someone who can get some of his humor.
He dabbles a bit more in the dark humor than most other bots on the team, still nowhere near Buddy’s level but he can appreciate their artform.
He will defend Buddy against anyone who says that they should be in the Autobot ranks because of their personality. Not everyone is perfect, and they have a choice on which side they want to fight, and they have always chosen the Autobots even when things seem hopeless.
Wheeljack has worked with Buddy in making his famous homemade grenades. Buddy is one of the few bots he will allow to fly the Jackhammer by themselves.
While he isn’t around the base too often, he always finds it funny to have Buddy sneak up on him by accident. Not many can do that, so he finds it funny.
Smokescreen
“Have you tried doing another paint job that isn’t Black? You know, bright that color scheme a bit.”
“When they have a shade darker than black let me know.”
Smokescreen looks at Buddy with admiration and fear.
On one hand, he knows that he could jump off the Nemesis blindly with Buddy and Buddy would somehow save them both while still doing their jokes midair.
On the other hand
He isn’t a fan of their dark humor or dark personality. It reminds him too much of the Cons. The first time that he met Buddy, he nearly shot them thinking they were a Con. There was an apology afterwards.
He does not question Buddy’s side in the war for a second. Sure, they look like they could end his life with a spoon, but they haven’t and that proves the point.
Ultra Magnus
“How is the investigation coming along soldier?”
“There are so many threads in this investigation I’d have enough to weave my burial shroud and Bumblebee’s.”
“What?”
“BEEEP! (WHAT!?)”
Not a fan of their personality.
He would have put them on the same list of non-compliant soldiers as Wheeljack. But despite a few bumps here and there, Buddy is a true Autobot and lives by the code, to a point.
They are actually one of the few Autobots that have managed to follow must his plans. And has some respect for authoritative figures.
Or that might be just him and Optimus. He respects them that much. Not a fan of dark humor or personality, mainly because it isn’t his taste in humor.
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translatemunson · 5 months ago
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when my depression works the graveyard shift • ttfd
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chapter five of the tortured firefighters department
previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter
cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, no descriptions of reader, struggles with depression and anxiety, intrusive thoughts, reader is definitely not having a good day (but she'll be fine)
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It was a bad day. Actually, more like a fortnight of bad luck, headaches and terrible days. You were running behind your PhD schedule, probably risking an extra semester or two to take all the obligatory classes. Your shifts were taking everything from you. Major events were terrible, but when the whole floor was focused on three pile-ups on major roads, two major fires and one minor power outage because of an illegal truck snapping all of the power wires instead of one major event, the overload of information was the first symptom of burnout. You’d leave your table and work all over the area and the white board to give the best instructions and estimates for your colleagues. But in the end of the shift, the feelings of mission accomplished would be turned into stratospheric levels of exhaustion.
No surprise you were worn off to the bone. Your place was a mess, you were too tired to cook and you stopped ordering take outs two nights ago — maybe three, you couldn’t tell —, you couldn’t sleep for more than three hours in a row because closing your eyes meant being close to reliving the last few days in form of nightmares. With the curtains closed, you couldn’t even tell if it was day or night.
When someone knocked on your door, they were lucky you were in the kitchen, drinking some water before going back to bed for the night. Or day. Not sure of it anymore.
“Brains. Open the door. Maddie is worried.”
And of course it was him.
“I told her I’m fine. Go away, Buckley.” You closed yourself inside your blanket.
“C’mon. You haven’t left your place since wednesday. What is going on?”
“Nothing. Leave me alone.”
You got closer to the door, hoping to hear him walking away, back to his own place, just down the hall.
“Ok, you know I can use the balconies to get in there, right?” 
“Have you heard of trespassing?”
“I’ll say you were in danger. Also, I’m a firefighter.”
“I don’t care. Leave. Me. Alone!” You punctuated your words with the pauses. He had to get the clue and get the hell out of there, before things started to get too messy.
“Hey, I really have no idea what’s going on with you,” he kept his voice low this time, “but everyone noticed you didn’t show up to family lunch, didn’t reply, even skipped Hen’s birthday celebration. You better open this door, or I’ll find my way inside your place.”
“I’m gonna call 9-1-1.”
“And tell them what?”
“That there is an annoying firefighter at my place, threatening to risk his life to commit a felony. Goodbye, Evan!”
All that talking made your legs feel like jello. You slowly slid to the floor just right beside the door, holding your remaining pieces together. With all the curtains drawn closed, and lights off, you were starting to find the floor a little too much more comfortable than your bed.
“Hey, Brains. I’m concerned about you. Can you please open the door and let me check if you’re ok? I promised I’ll be in and out very fast, and I’ll tell everyone not to worry.” It felt like he was, even on the other side of the door, so close. “Please. I don’t wanna be the one having to take down the door to rescue your dead body.”
“I’m not dead, asshole.”
“Not right now.” You could hear him smirking as he spoke. “I promise I’ll get out of your hair, for now. Open the door, please.”
You lifted your arm to reach the door key and turn it. “Give me a second,” you requested as you moved your legs away from the door. He waited for your signal to open it.
“I don’t care if your place is messy. You should’ve seen mine after the tsunami, I had no energy to do anything.” He entered your place too focused on everything else to notice you were right beside him. “Brains?” He called once he didn’t find you standing.
“Down here, Buckley.”
Buck was on his knees the moment he saw you were on the floor, asking you “Are you hurt? Do you feel anything?”
He looked around your place: maybe not messier, but a lot darker than his own. He removed the blanket from your shoulders, checking for any visible wounds or anything that would potentially kill you. 
“Have you eaten today? Any water?” For sure the first responder’s instinct would kick in as fast as a racing car.
“You got your proof of living, now leave.” You turned your head, refusing to look him in the eye.
“Don’t make me bring Hen all the way here to check on you. Food?”
“Don’t remember. But I just drank water.” You weakly pointed to the empty cup.
“Good, but you should save your energy.” He gave you two pats in your leg. At this point, you’re not even sure if he’s still checking for injuries or just making sure you are still made of bones and tissues, not just some ghost. “Why are you on the floor?”
“Annoying neighbor wouldn’t leave me alone.” You smirked.
“Not funny. I’m gonna take you to the couch, ok?”
Your eyelids were starting to get heavier by the minute. You gave him a nod, and Buck passed his arms under your back and knees. Maybe it was a bad idea to lay on the floor, now the slightest movement made you sick and weaker. He moved past your dining table, and set you on the couch. 
“Do you have any symptoms? Do you want me to take you to the hospital?”
“No, no hospital, Buck. I’m just sad. And tired. And probably looking like I was held captive for hours.”
“More like weeks. What?” If you had the energy, you would’ve slapped his arm, but all you could do was roll your eyes at him. “Ok, what do you have in your fridge?”
When the answer to his own question came in the form of an empty fridge — beside two water bottles, a rotten apple and some leftover food you were sure had been there even before the beginning of his nightmare, you saw him put his hands on his hips, wondering what he should do next.
“I’m gonna go to my place, grab something for you. Don’t move, ok?”
“Where else could I go?”
“And I’m taking your keys. As a precaution.” He jiggled them, and your head pulsed. Now a headache? You never wished to disappear that much.
“Whatever!”
He closed the door and left you alone with your wondering thoughts. Well, it wasn’t a surprise you had a full mental breakdown, having a few in the past decade kinda suited your workaholic and overachiever persona. Was it avoidable? Maybe, sure, everything is with a regular sleep schedule, therapy sessions and some ‘I need help’ talks. Were you ready for that? No, not at all.
Your mom was always the first one to clock your “I’m gonna lose my head anytime now” moods, and now she was the last one to know about them. Your dad was always too busy with work to care about those, and being a single child meant there was no one sneaking into your bedroom to check on you. You always fought those alone, you shouldn’t be having trouble pulling yourself out of the slump.
But maybe it was scary this time because it was your first time having one of those after bringing people close to you. Life was lonely during college, your dispatcher coworkers didn’t get too much into your life, you made sure to keep the trouble out of the icebreaker topics when you were on the dating scene.
And now you had the whole 118 crew asking for you, because you were M.I.A. for days, and avoiding them even before that. That for sure was a recipe for a certain firefighter, who just happened to be your neighbor, knocking on your door and dozens of unanswered calls on your phone.
“Gave Chim a call?” You asked Buck as soon as he was back.
“Am I that predictable?”
“My phone rang upstairs, and I bet 20 it’s Maddie.”
“Busted. Ok, I need you to eat this,” he gave you a plate with a slice of bread, “before you eat proper dinner.”
“Ok.”
“I’m gonna…” he pointed to the apartment, a complete chaos. “Small clean up, ok? I just wanna help.”
“Suit yourself, Buckley.”
He opened the curtains, threw the empty takeout bags away, did the dishes and changed your bed sheets. He did all of that while you were your couch, trying to eat the slice of bread without vomiting.
“Do you think you can shower?” He leaned on the railing, checking if you were still on the couch.
“Maybe?”
“Ok, I’ll get you some clean clothes.”
“Already going through my stuff, hm? At least pay me dinner first.”
“Dinner’s gonna arrive any second.” He got down the stairs and stopped in front of you. “Ok, how are we feeling?”
“I can’t eat more than this now. Makes me sick.” You left the plate on the empty seat to your left. He checked it and didn’t look too satisfied with your efforts. “Can you help me get to the bathroom?”
“Sure. Do you think you need a stool or something like that?”
“No, I just need some help to go up.”
“Say no more.” He picked you up, just like minutes ago. As you opened your mouth to complain, he whispered, “Just like you said that day, I’m the muscles”
He carried you, bridal style, to the bathroom upstairs. He got you a chair, just in case you needed a pause. “Scream if you need help, ok?”
“Ok.” Before he left you alone with your thoughts, you called him back.
“I thought you’d prefer some dinner before,” he joked and motioned as if he was implying you needed help with your clothes.
“No, it’s not that. I—thanks, Buck.”
“Anytime, Brains.”
You kept the door a little ajar. Finally getting rid of your pajamas, you opened the shower and enjoyed some freshness. While you were busy taking care of yourself, Buck told you that he’d be finishing cleaning up your apartment. He tried to find the right places for your stuff, got the clothes in the basket, and made the kitchen look pristine. Dinner arrived as you were closing the shower.
You brushed your teeth — couldn’t even remember the last time you did it — and combed your hair. You looked miserable, but that would have to do. Maybe this would convince Buck that you were better. You left the bathroom and walked to your nightstand to get your phone.
“Brains, dinner’s here!” He announced once he saw you moving upstairs. “Wanna eat in bed or…”
You got close to the stairs and froze. No, you couldn’t do it.
“Buck.”
“Hey, hey, hey.” He took two steps at a time to reach you as fast as he could. And just in time to wrap his arms around your body, tears and muffled words taking over. “What’s going on, Brains? You can tell me, it’s ok.”
“I’m exhausted. I’m… I can’t take this. I am… failing. Everything.” Your hold tightened around his shirt. “I’m failing my classes. I can’t take the calls without long breaks because even a small complaint makes me cry. My life is a whole mess, and I can’t… I am tired.”
“I promise I’ll stop asking questions. Just… Did anyone hurt you?” You nodded negatively. “Are you having any alarming symptoms?” Same thing. “Do you need help?” A positive nod. “Ok. I’m not going anywhere.”
Buck did actually go somewhere. After helping you sit in bed, your back against the headboard for support, he went downstairs to get you some dinner. He ordered Thai food — some noodles and soup — and brought you more water.
You two sat side by side, and he started telling you about the lastest calls on his shift. A couple went way too hard on experimenting, a car crash with no deaths, a rescue on a cliff. You listened to him quietly, taking small sips of your soup until the bowl was empty. He left your dishes on your bedside table.
“You have been feeling like this since that day, right?” he asked, changing the subject of the conversation. While you were done with your food, he took his time with the cold noodles.
“Yeah, and I didn’t even tried to change things. It was easier to stay on the same track. Look where it led me.” Your hands traced irregular paths on the clean covers. “I’m sorry I made everyone worried. And that I missed Hen’s birthday.”
“It’s ok. They get it, we also have bad days,” he tried to take the guilty off of your shoulders.
“I promise I’ll do better by the morning. I’ll be better,” you repeated those words until they felt real. Because the thought of changing a ruined routine wasn’t enough anymore. Buck could tell you just needed some decent rest, so he let you go quiet, and he didn’t push you for more details.
You hate how you fell asleep too fast, too easily. This close to someone that felt real and human, and not some damn disaster like you were feeling. With one of his arms around you and pulling you closer, his voice talking about something random about his sister, you were too far gone to pay attention.
+++
He noticed when you fell asleep. He thought of leaving you there, but he was too afraid all progress would be thrown out of the window. So he got comfortable in your bed, with you close to his heart, and promised himself he would move to your couch in a few hours. He didn’t want to make things weird, but he managed to kiss the top of your head, very lightly, just so he could know the feeling.
When you woke up the next morning, he was on your couch, and you could barely remember much of anything after he arrived.
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a/n: hi loves! how have you been doing? i'll have to admit this is the most self-insert chapter i'll write in my life bc something similar happened to me a few days ago. and it sucks. but i'm fine now. hope you liked this chapter. see y'all soon!
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