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lovelessprick · 1 year

Text

Chapter 3

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader

Summary: With another truth slapping you, you'll do anything to escape this hellish reality.

Themes: Angst (a lot of action)

Warnings: gambling, persecution, mentions of violence, swearing, kidnapping, typical show violence

Words: 10k (I regret nothing)

BTW, this ends here, at least for now. I all of a sudden have a ton of work in my personal life, so you'll probably not hear from me for a while, love you all though <3

Even though you had a brief idea of what and how your plan was going to dissolve, you had to be honest with yourself, you were stuck in yet another messy situation. Two guards behind you, one in each side, in addition to about another four guards scattered around the luxurious dining room. A table placed horizontally, long enough to fit about ten people, and in the very middle none other than the person that had put a bounty over your head, lord Denter.

The lord, sat on the other side of the table, and had an enourmpusly big feast. A range of meals adjusted to Denter’s refined and picky sensitive tongue, from local meals such as engine-cooked turkey with yellow berry souce placed irresistibaly on top of it, and you could see the little square cubes decorated within the berry sauce, and you’d recognized it as rocky fruit. And though you hated this place enough, you’d be willing to plot a fire and burn everything to a crisp, the yellow berry sauce was once of Maker’s blessings to you since you’d been trapped here.The rest of the plates you’d simply recognize as “rich fancy food” such as the golden stew within cascaded eggs seated right by the turkey or heat-style pudding which was further back to be eaten later.

The lord, with a noticeable smirk across his face, took his cup containing Sunvasus wine. It’s exactly as it sounds, tilts from dark red to the palest of yellows scattered throught the classic cava glass, sparkling bubbles shown across it.

Denter seemed like he was itching to say something, and knowing him, you knew it was to boost his already high ego, and most likely to put yours down at the same time. And once he took his final gulp of the wine, its warm colours reflecting onto his skin on his cheek, he spoke once again.

“I’m very disappointed in you” he called out to you rather loudly, and his accent slapped you in the face. You’d completely forgotten how strong his background accent actually was, or even how it sounded. And it froze you in place.

“Why so sad?” he was questioning you. You opened your mouth slightly, not because you were going to say something, but rather because you weren't expecting that question. But before you could go over your thoughts and think about what he was referring, he ranted on his little speech further.

“Remember you are still part of this little joyful town” you listened on, trying to ignore the way he would entonate the r’s and not let a giggle come out in the middle of whatever this was. And with that, you let a little silent sigh escape your lips, easing you slightly.

You weren’t sure why, but the moment you stepped on this very room, you were more relaxed than what you had anticipated, maybe it was because you felt you had some sort of control. You knew the blueprint of this palace like the back of your palm, and that thought gave you some sort of comfort.

“You have made me very mad over the past years” his tongue pointedly said looking straight at you. A smile still remained on his face, but his stare was hard on you, a very cruel-like one too. One full of hatred and almost longing-like, one described as resentment written across his stare. He meant everything he just said now, and oh boy, you knew you had to leave now or you woudn’t be able to later.

“And I’m delighted to see you back” he took a break from his staring to question which piece of culinary he’d take next. He grabbed the fork, and by his `playful nature, he spined the cutlery and land it onto his next meal, not before of course, sending you another threatening look.

“Only time will tell you, you belong to me” At this point far from being scared, you were slightly amused at his indignant regards of your persona. And you coudn’t even be offended, not with the royal-like accent. So you had to stay there just trying to close off the slight warm feeling crawling to your heart, and hope to the Maker it wound’t be shown on your face.

You really had a tragic life, your dad dies when you were just a teen, you are kidnapped and ensalved in this town, once you get just a bit of liberty, you have a bunch of bounty hunters chasing after you, and now you have to suffer through his delusional and egotestical monologue, honestly what came next?

“You’ll soon remember I served you well” he ranted on, but you kept to yourself. You weren’t about to listen to this whole thing, not when he spoke to you in such a manner. And so your eyes landed just below him, to the food. You had felt this before when you saw the amount of food scattered effortlessly across the gigantic table, but you were very much hungry. You hadn’t eaten since the morning of the incident when you came across for the first time with the Mandalorian.

Pupils focused straight at the pudding laying there, pleading and begging to someone to notice how lonely it was. Oh Maker, your stomach had sunk in even deeper at the sight of the delicious pastry. If you won’t do it to ensure your freedom, do it for the hunger. Escape with it and it eat, because your were damn sure Denter woudn’t just let you eat it here.

Ok, think, think, think, how do you get out of this situation? Your eyes scanned again the room, giving quick glances to Denter and your pudding, until your eyes just coincidentally landed on a window double your size and quite nicely decorated, with right angle lines plated in gold which shone even brighter at the sun that was bidding farewell near a rocky mountain at the horizon.

“And I won’t let you go again, becasue you’re my favourite pet” he shouted at you, earning your instant attention and gaze. A snakely smile metamorhped his previous smirk into something that could be translated as the literal Devil’s child. Curls at the corner of his mouth so far back, just about where the ear was, with many muscle wrinkles formed at the uncmounfortable and tense position of his mouth, his eyes were just like before, the same vengeful soul lurked between the yellowish irises of his.

But of course he wasn’t done, what were you expecting. And he didn’t disappoint either with his next little words.

“My sweet submissive and vulnerable pet” he’d calmed down the intensity of his stare thankfully, and you could only thank the Maker for that. You coudn’t take this seriously, Denter was just like any weird villain of stories your dad told you. So delusional, so annoying and so frustrating, to the point even your younger self woudn’t cower to him. But there was a tint of fear lurking within you. This was the reality afterall, the man in front of you may be plain weird and delusional, but you knew better than to feign ignorance of the last five years you had been exposed to his unstable character.

A quiet screech behind you had alerted your instincts, and while still frightful of the man in front of you, your gaze met up with the T shaped visor of your hunter.

That’s right, the Mandalorian is still very much present and part of the audience to this spectacle. It seemed he shifted his position, which led to his boots slide a few centimetres away.

You both didn’t need to talk, and quite frankly both you didn’t want to either. Interrupting Denter’s words was not a good idea.

You raised your eyebrow, your eyes still wide in dismay. A simple act to let him know you were cursing at him for bringing you to this place. And as you expected, he didn’t move and give any signals that he was responding to you.

“And I’ll love you until my dying days” he sing sang and you shot back to him at the words. He was in a new position. His legs rose up and rested on the arm rest on his left, as his back was placed to rest on the other. Noticing your gaze he just winked at you and continued on. A shiver run you cold at the little gesture.

“When you’re gone I’ll go mad, so don’t throw away this thing we had” your brain just froze, and you were petrified at his words, and the not in the good sense. Of course you knew better than to think he actually loved you, or you just wanted to tell yourself that. But the years you spent here were far from nice, and it that’s the way he wanted to show his ‘love’ you just started to realize in how much trouble you actually were. Previously you thought you were going to end up dead sooner or later, by which now sounded like Denter being merciful, but that wasn’t the case. He was going to keep you alive for a while longer, torturing you and humiliating you, while your sanity would decay and rot.

“Because next time I'm in the presence of your absence, I’ll go kill everyone” and there it was, the confirmation that you were in a worse position than you had anticipated. Your eyes becoming cold at the lack of blinking and wideness of it you had to fore it close. Looking up at the lord, you weren’t sure what to say, did you even need to say anything? You were simply at a loss of words. And you needed to leave now, not wait until you found a chance. Even if an army of people chasing after you in the middle of the dry Ryloth, you simply needed to leave.

The sudden movement somewhere behind you startled the lord, or he tried to seem surprised but it came out rather theatrically. Instantly, he called out a name, loud enough it seeed like he was yelling. While apologizing at the Mandalorian for forgetting about his presence. And honestly, even in this messy situation, a brief smirk came up your lips. You could only feel some sort of amusement that Denter practically made him stay for longer for no good reason. You could imagine it was to boost his ego and feel he could control him, and he wasn’t wrong entirely. The Mandalorian would stay until he had his credits afterall.

Finally, a man opened the golden traced doors by which you were guided in beforehand. The man looked older than Denter by a few decades, wearing many loose pieces of clothing, typical of the dry planet. A loose shirt and trousers with a belt made from another fabric, making the man look more fresh, comfortable and heat-proof.

“Bernard go and see our guest of honour” he ordered the man, before looking at the Hunter that brought him his little pet “35 000 was it?” he asked him, and he simply nodded his helmet.

“Oh you troublemaker, making me spend so much off this town’s money for your safe return” he commented as a way to end the conversation with the two other men. You were just thinking he had some sort of talent with words, but he was wasting it all with whatever he was doing, making you uncomfourtuble, humiliating you?

With the thud of the door shutting, Denter tilted his head to the other side.

“Excuse me I have been talking none stop. So tell me, what’s inside that sweet rotten mind of yours” you stared at him. You positioned you body more comfortably and try and ease the tension. And you smiled. Yup, you were using your cool guy tactic once again. And it worked, Denter’s face remained the same narcissistic smug that he wore throughout his speech, but his head tilted to the other side, a sign that he was at the very least intrigued at your change in character.

“I understand everything my lord” you reassured Denter, opening up your arms to let the tension flow through them. Making you seem not comfortable, but rather looking like your were talking to an old acquaintance of yours.

“Except that wig” you pointed out one of the unspoken rules within this town. Every one knew, they just never dared speak up about it. Denter’s baldness.

And just as everyone was starting to compute what you had just said, your arms that were slightly raised, pushed back in great force and hit the guards groin area. You turned back, the guards feeling the impact of your punch in their sensitive area, you swiftly grabbed the guard’s spear before he fell. Seeing the man’s had still gripped onto your only weapon at your disposal, you kicked him away. Two more steps, and you bashed the other guards head that was recomposing itself up, only for his strength to be robbed after the spear came in contact with his face before joining his companion.

A quick glace around the room to examine your situation told you to jump up the table due the remaining guards surrounding you, two by the lord’s side and two more behind you. Quickly finding your balance, an incoming knight with a blade similar to a vibroblade but double in size. The man charging at you, positioning his weapon to strike you dead, had his vision blocked shortly by the flying bowl of buns you kicked at him. You didn’t waste time as you looked at the puddding nearby. Using your feet, you slid the pudding at the end of the table near the enormous window.

You had to be quick about your next steps, now all the six guards were coming at you, and you had to make sure run and not trip on the culinary masterpieces at your feet. So you forced your gaze downwards and watch after your feet. Stepping on the turkey you eyed earlier a new sound entered your ears. Between the yells of the knights and your heavy steps on the table you heard the yelp of the lord after smashing his little turkey just in front of him. That thought amused you, and you would laugh about it later, with some Spochka in your system.

Coming close to the end of the table you slightly jumped on your side, grabbing onto the golden seat at the end to maintain your posture until your feet landed safely with a little striking pain underneath you feet from the high impact. But this didin’t stop, not when you had just created this mess in the dining table of this town’s sire. And so you grabbed onto the wide chair, forcing you to harden and toughen your stomach as another way to keep your strength for the big and heavy object in your arms, which as a result your breathing stopped for a moment feeling the slight but bearable nausea coming straight to your face. And as quickly as you held onto the chair, you launched it to the window, smashing it into millions of pieces and creating a big enough gap for your frame.

And before you jumped, you looked behind you, the guards already on your tail. This was the time to jump but you didn’t. Most likely, It was one of the stupidest things you done, but you made an internal oath, and the pudding three steps away was calling for you. And so, you ran to your beloved and swiftly ran back to jump to the floor level. All the while you looked at Denter, bit into the pudding and smirked up at him as your body reached outside.

The air waved at you as a quick realization that you didn’t have enough clothing for the night. And so you ran as fast as you could, plate of the pudding in your hands as a way too steady the gelatinous texture and keep it from moving too much.

You could hear some screaming in the distance, and you recognized as the knights trying to follow your lead. But fortunately for you, you ran quite fast and silently, and so you were far away, but not far away enough to guarantee they wouldn't find you within an hour.

You ducked inside a barn, very little lights present. Local farm animals stayed within their cage and locked. And you noticed the place was quite spacious. The barn was quiet, all except for the sounds of uneven breathings right around the corner. Your head tilted, leaving your body for protection on the wall as not to be seen. A man in his twenties sleeping against the wall, a bottle of liquor by his side and you wondered what happened throughout his day that he would drown himself in alcohol so early in the night.

Relieved that he wasn’t conscious as to find you and report it back to the knights, you slumped back with your eyes closed to breathe in. And a second later, you opened your eyes, and the air that was threatening to leave got stuck again, choking you slightly. Your hunter had once again found you, with a blade to your neck.

Instinctively you put your hand on your mouth as a way to muffle the chokes and hope it woudn’t wake up the drunk. And once your itchy throat had slightly calmed down enough for you to talk again without choking, you looked the man’s visor, you eyes read nothing but frustration.

“Do you just hate me or something?” you yelled whispered at him, earning you his head tilt to the side. He said nothing for a few seconds, and then he sowly saved his blade onto his side. You muttered a rush thank you when you saw he didn’t have any weapons in hand, happy that he’d become more docile with you.

“What?” left his modulated voice toward you, stepping aside for a little to give you some space.

“You already have the credits, why are you helping them?” a murmured spite came out of your spicy tongue. You stayed put against the wall, crossing your arms, and a look of annoyance written across your face. He looked back, one leg rested slightly forward and bent to the other.

“I’m not helping them” he said, almost stoic. And you huffed air out, glad that at least the Mandalorian wasn’t going to get you back to the lord. Your gaze rolled to the little lamp nearby, the only source of light in this area of the barn. And you closed your eyes. Your heart was beating fast from the chase, and the scare the Manadalorian gave you barely a minute ago. But your body was easing up, and it was yet another reminder about how tired you were.

“Thank the Maker-” you hitched up a breath. You were breathing deeply and slowly until you got your normal breathing pace. And while still huffing you looked up at him, him joining the staring contest. “Just never to that again” you demanded him, more like a plead. He just nodded his head to you in acknowledgment.

Last part of your plan was to escape, and you were almost glad to him again. He could be your escape ship, and a little giggle, one with a lot of huffing nosies in between, at the sheer luck you just had. Why he was still here was a mystery to you, but you didn’t care, what you did care though, was that he was here right now, and you were about to strike up a bargain.

“Hey, help me escape this place” you muttered to him, his head tilted to the side before he spoke. “Not happening” you pointed in annoyance at him and you stepped closer. Your eyes turning once again to the one in frustration.

“You owe me one after taking me here” he was silent and didn’t move either, he just looked at you. An it seemed he was almost guilty about the whole ordeal. His bounty hunter code forbade him from knowing the details of the bounty, but he had learned against his will. And listening through Denter’s monologue involving you, a sensation of almost pain needleed through his heart.

The cold air pained your skin, especially the area of your throat. And so, while awaiting his response, your fingers tucked onto your cape and slid it to the centre of your body. Creating this very thin blanket to protect you from the cold. When you bought this tunic, the seller had told its high price comes with the weather controller. Essentially, the cape was to be also used as a way to warm up or get colder, as well as being rain-proof. This was without a doubt one of the best investments you’d done, and if it weren’t for this fabric you would’ve freezed to death on many cargo ships.

“Are you a mechanic?” his voice joined the yelling outside and the commotion of the streets. His was stronger though, overpowering all the noises of the town.

“I’m not entirely a mechanic since I never worked as one, but I know how to repair things. And oh boy, you need some repairing on that ship, my friend” you spoke lowly, still trying to disguise yourself as better as you could. You smiled at him, trying to convince him to take you with him.

He groaned, and a fine escaped his lips.

Maybe it was the overwhelming emotion you’d been lately having, so much anxiety, so many things bad happening to you, and for once, it seemed like the Maker actually blessed you for once, and the warm feeling in your chest, spreading rapidly throughout your heart, made you smile grow wide. A little giggle left your lips, and not like the huffy one from earlier, this was livelier and full of emotion. And the Mandalorian’s response had completely made you forget about the drunk person just around the corner.

A slight burp bounced through the walls. Your had coming to meet your mouth and enclose any type of sound that would come out of it, staying still with your eyes open. It seemed due to your nervousness of being exposed enhanced your hearing, and you noted that the man that had just woken up, stood to his feet, or at least tried because the noise of something heavy slumped back down against the floor with a groan. And then more snores, almost as immediately as he fell down, he knocked himself out with a good night’s rest.

You looked at the man in Beskar, his hand was brushing against the baster in its holster, the same as the day he found you. And once he acknowledged the man was not a threat, he relaxed once again.

You looked up at him again. You had to do something first, and you coudn’t involve him. That thought made you remember of the pudding sitting on a chair nearby. And so you walked towards and chunked the piece you grabbed in your hand and into your mouth. It was disgusting, and the gelly feeling that remained in your hand made matters worse. But you didn’t have any cutlery and now wasn’t the time to be refined and modest with your table manners. And just as you savored the after taste of the delicious pastry, not regretting almost sacrificing your plan of escape by taking it with you. You got your robe, cleaning the remaining of your hands and some lingering in the corners of your mouth. Making what once was white, the previous shades of black, you added the pale brown and beige colours onto it. The caramel conquering pieces of the fabric as it absorbed it.

You looked back at he Mandalorian, still looking at you. And you guessed it wasn’t pretty the way you just ate a hand full of pudding. But you forced yourself to shake away that thought.

“I have to do something… it’ll be best if I go alone” You spoke softly, and he crossed his arms leaning against the wall. Questioning you with his stare.

“I thought you wanted to come to my ship” you could sense his raised eyebrow. And you looked up at him, pleading he would drop this without asking much questions. But he maintained his stubborn attitude for a few minutes. Him questioning you why you had to stay, the place where you were wanted by the nobles. But you didn explain yourself further from little words sentences, telling him it woudn’t take long.

And so, in the end he sighed, his arms raised in defeat. “Alright, but if by sunrise you’re aren’t by the ship, I’ll consider you good as dead, understood?” his question hit hard on you because of the way he spoke the words. Slowly, and lower, that’s how he said it. And it made you rethink if it was a good idea, quite frankly it wasn’t, but you needed to do that so there woudn’t be another bounty over your head. And remembering where you actions laid, you nodded at him. “Understood”

_______

The palace as still as the desert-like planet which contrasted with the city swarmed with knights, knocking on people’s home, interfering with the civilians nights, ransacking their home until they concluded you weren’t there and then got to another house, and thus this cycle would go at least throughout the night.

You’d been able to make it back to he palace, making sure your noise would be as quiet as the wind not waning to disrupt the sleep of the desert.

You had peaked over the entrance, just to see how the situation was inside the golden house. You were met the sight of guards keeping their master’s home safe. And so you opted in intruding another way, the you had previously come out.

And so, you fingertips had managed to get a hold onto the base of the shattered window, a smooth surface unlike the crystal particles you had to brush away so they woudn’t pice through your skin and take damage for a long period of time.

Your head peeked through the window, only showing up to your eyes and look at the mess you had created before. The dining room was dark, only taking in the light source coming from the lamposts from the town, and so you were able to make out the chair Denter was sat in an the table just in front of you. The shapes of painting decorated within the room, as well as the door that gave you access to inside the palace. And no one guarding inside the dining room.

With the little force you had in your arms, you tried pushing yourself up just enough to get your knee on the base of the window, and then you other one before. Your feet and legs came across the remaining cristal shards, these one bigger in size, and you were glad you wore long trousers and boots. Now that most of your weight was on the inside of the room, you easily got the rest of your body inside and safe. Leaving your arms sore from the climbing.

You looked around, to see any signal of anything. You weren’t just going to leave through the door as you assumed the guards must be guarding it the from the inside, and so you demanded your brain to remember the blueprint of this place. You knew a handful of secret passage ways, and one must sure go to Denter’s room.

You looked across the familiar walls, paintings showcasing the most desirable parts of planets, ranging from the lava rivers of Nevarro to the ice cold mountains of Hoth. Between these paintings, you also found faces, from men to women, children and the elderly, all scattered. The printing at the very middle though, the painting of the rocky mountains painted in a yellowish and brown palette, brighten by the red sun rising from the mountain, was bigger than the rest. Positioned exactly to be behind the lord’s the golden seat. You’d recogize this painting from your stay here, as you often times hid inside whenever you did something to guarantee the guards punishing you.

You brushed the thick golden frame of the bigger painting. Before you grabbed onto it and pulled it apart from the wall, the heavy frame making up for most of the weight it had on your arms and you simply dropped it on the floor.

The passageway was dark enough you coudn’t see anything, but you recognized the paths anyway. It had only been two years since you last had been here, and your mind was a stronger than ever. Like before, you crawled up to the hole, your arms propelling your body up to get inside. This was was more tricky though, due to the size of the painting, the hole had to adjust to its size. And so, the only way to acces to the other side of the path was through crawling. Boosting you feet so your body got into the little cave further, you began crawling as fast as you could. The little space around your body could end up being your grave if you didin’t hurry up and get out as soon as possible, especially when a sudden thought popped in your head. The little space would suffocate you enough until you passed out due to the decreased oxygen particles in this cramped space.

Once you were further enough, the place were the light was dead, you reached over to your trousers. Fumbling and shaking it in an attempt to grab onto the match that was hidden away. This match being one of the little things they let you keep when they considered the tiny pocket wasn’t worth looking through,

Holding the match on your fingers, and just like phoenix’s rebirth after its dying light. Warm calours shone brightly in front of you and you could see how far away you were from the other side. Crawling your arms forward with the help of your propelling legs, you got there faster than before, with sweat over your forehead, and with shaky breaths. The end was just a block of black which you assumed had to be another painting. Slightly you pushed yout fingers against it, andyou were glad to touch something that was wasn’t heavy, and so you slightly pushed it away to get out.

You sat on the floor for a little while, looking at the painting on the floor, this one with a hole you must have caused when you fell on it. And you got up to search around the dark room. And just like the dining room, the lights of the town reflecting on each surface in the room, the painting ont he wall, the chairs near the window, the door near at the ent of the room, the mirror with niclecy cut wardrobe and finally the bed with a sleeping Denter within it. His eyes closed evidence of being in a good dream. You looked up at him for a while. It didin’t feel right kill someone in their sleep like this, escpecially whe you weren’t a murderer, not now al least.

And so you froze in place, a the realization of the action you were about to make. It slowed you movements, making them hesitant, and your brain was just not functioning. You were nervous, like a little kid riding on a roller coaster for the first time, except you weren’t gidily inside. You heart dropped to your stomach, and its presence made itself known by beating so hard it was vibrating the surface of your belly.

The noise of the shouts outside awoke you changing the direction of your gaze to the window. That’s right, you had to do this. Killing someone shoudn’t face you that much, not when many people had tried to kill you, or seemed to want to kill you. But it was the fact that he was so vulnerable and defenseless, and the quiet of the room, made your head think twice.

But you had to do this, you coudn’t live in fear that Denter would plot his revenge on you. Not when he’d hire more bounty hunters to follow after your fresh blood, not when Denter would finally have you under him, controlling you, humiliating you, and hurting you. So you had to do it, for yourself, for your survival, this was your survival instinct so don’t you dare mess this up now when you’re so close from killing the cause of your pain and axiety.

You looked at the match gripped tightly in your hand. You didn’t have a weapon if it weren’t from the mandalorian taking them away from you earlier when you intruded his ship. But you had this, and the match would suffice.

You opened the window, the slight air coming in the room. Ready to start the fire and leave as soon as possible, but you didin’t, not when you could clearly remember how this little snake always got away with anything, and you wanted to ensure he died. Unpon decidin your next few steps, you walked towards him, so quietly it seemed you erased your very presence in this room, disguising yourself like a passerbyer ghost, and becoming one like the unmoving and soulless objects in his working desk.

It was this very desk you’d do you next move. It wasn’t the desk itself, but rather the content above it. With the slight illumination giving out shades of orange as a mix between shadows and the town lights. You made out made things, an arquitectorical piece and by the look of importance, it screamed like maybe it was town hall. The display was shown in blue light contrasting with the darks shadows behind it. An though everything was showed in the same cyan blue colour you could make out mosty if not perfectly what the sleeping man behind you had thought of building. A wide building, as well as tall, with other two blocks with the same width as the centered on, but not as grandiose. And that was about it, the design looked very unfinished.

Behind it, though it was harder to clear out with your eyes, were a set of what you thought wuld be essential for an architect. Some blank paper scattered, thrown and torn apart in the, with some pencils and rulers atop. But there was something else that caught your attention, a pipe. A metallic pipe of maybe one meters in length and maybe had a circumference of six centimetres. You snatched it away, happy with whatever you found, and made your way to the door.

You were sure there’d be guards on the outside, so you had to make an extra effort not to alarm them in any way. Raising your harm holding the pipe, you slid it through the door knob, which had the same shapen as a metallic golden pull. The pipe got stuck at between the rectangle shaped arcs, and it was long enough it woudn’t drop even if the door were to be shaken violently. And even though you were positive no one would be able to come in, you traced your steps to pull up the chair and lean it over the door handles. Positioning it just before them and at the right angle, it would create another force impeding the loyal guards to come after their sire.

You looked back at your soon to be victim, your movements as sharp as a robot, but your outer body experience made you look like you’d just been possessed by an evil witch, whispering to your ear things demons would crawl you to the furthest level of hell. And even in this position, you had to try and take control over your body, try to be neutral, calm or collected. Especially ignore the way your heart was vibrating in your chest.

That face you’d hope to forget once this thing was over, faced back to you his eyes still closed. So calm, so vulnerable and almost so innocent looking. You felt an almost sprrpful feeling just by thinking the way it would mark his end. The universe was wide enough for you two to live in, both of you away from each other, both of you in peace. But he coudn’t take it, he had to take you in and make you feel miserable for his ego, and that ego of his was what settled his grave of ashes. He was going to die in a brutal way, whether it was from suffocation, carbon monoxide poisoning or burnt alive. The result was the same, he’d become just the same as the dust in old houses. His royal bloodline would be nothing but ashes that would later be discarded away as just the rest of the furniture.

Maybe if you two lived by another society, followed other rules, maybe gew up in a democracy where everyone was meant to be equal, maybe then, this woudn’t have happened to him. Maybe his insatiable hunger to see others suffer would’ve never awoken, and maybe then you two could’ve become friends, or at least tolerate each other. But you hated him, and he hated you, even if he wanted to mask it as some sort of weird love, he hated you that’s why he did those things to you. The universe was wide enough, but he didn’t accept that. And in the end that thought shaped into obsession, and that sealed him for good. You weren’t sad he was going to die, it had to do more at the fact that it was you who had to seal him away. This would be your first time doing it as well. But if that was you fate, then you’ll carry through until the end.

Opening fire, you approached the lighter to the mattres until a small fire ignited and was the beginning of your ploy. You walked over to the painting, and by this point, you could feel the fire you ignited barely three seconds ago become this fierce beast you’ve heard about many times. It burned so well, so aggressive, all in mere seconds. But you knew better than to stop and be mesmerzied by the lightning magic, and you quickly caught the broken painting and lit it up. This painting being on the other side of Denter’s face, as a way to maybe to not wake up Denter, wether it would be from the initial fumes of just the shift from cold to hot.

You lept onto the window giving another glace to Denter, his sleeping form still unmoving and vulnerable, almost baby-like. He was remaining in his sweet dreams, and if Maker would allow it, he’d make his death painless by keeping him trapped in his realm of dreams, instead of the panicked wave of knowing he was going to die horribly in the next minutes.

Doing the same little finger movement, another click was heard. You’d noticed the curtain flowing elegantly through the little wind, and it didn’t take you long to decide to it would ake great igniting material. Partly, it was to prevent the fact that maybe Denter, in his panicked state, he would jump out of the window. Though that wasn’t the Denter you knew, no the lord you knew was lazy, not athletic, picky and refined. But you never know what anyone would do in a panicked state. What their instinct of survival whispers their pale ears, and what uncharacteristically actions they do in order to stay alive, to be able to look at the sky again, to laugh again, to weep over meaningless things That’s why you lit the curtains as well, even if you arm was starting to dangerously increase in temperature rapidly. This was your survival instinct, you had to make sure he was dead, for your own good, and make sure you woudn’t be chased again like a little frightened lamb hoping their killers woudn’t take her to the slaughterhouse.

And so, Denter’s room was in a mess of roaring flames, the fire conquering every bit of hunger and turning it into ashes, and soon enough he’d swallow whole the perpetuator of your suffering for so long. The amount of the shining light coming from the flames was enough that the townspeople beow you would notice another ball of fire, that was if the sun was present at the moment. You needn’t see Denter to know he was fucked. There was no way he’d survive, and by the amount of the ashy fume coming out from the window he’d mostlikely already died from ingesting it. So much fumes you had to move to the other side of the double window, and be protected by the closed crystal to your right. But the carbon monoxide did some effect on you already, as dry, just like if ashes were spread out on your throat, coughs came running out your mouth. You knew you just alerted everyone to come here. You you swallowed hard before you got moving to the Razor Crest, or at least that’s how you remembered the ship’s name to be. You weren’t completely sure. But the point was that you needed to get into the Mandalorian’s ship now.

Your fingers got a hold of the rocky wall of the palace. Your improvised plan was to get yourself on the streets of this accursed town and just run. Escape the inevitable fate of the guards following you to wherever you were going, which was the ship. And you were finding it difficult, between the flames the anxiety of he off chance something in the room would explode, you were having a difficult time finding your balance on the rocky wall. But just as you managed to get your smooth boots to get somewhat stuck on the wall, screams resonated in your brain. And not any ordinary screams, the same typ of screams you heard barely an hour ago. You looked down, and immediately after you regretted it. You wee indeed quite high, and you had tolook away to ake sure your head woudn’t do anything funny.So high in fact, if you decided to jumo down, you knew at least you’d break both your legs. And you weren’t about to sacrffice the only limbs that would guarantee your escape, and especially you didin’t want to hear the earsplitting sounds of cracked bones. And if that didn’t convince you enough, the swarming of guard just below you did.

“Dank Farrik” you breathed out realizing how they exposed your location, and so if you coudn’t climb down, you’ll just have to go up. After two attempts, and the bursting of fire threatening you, you found your footing and started to climb the little wall left to the open space area a top of you.

The sensation of the cold wind overpowering the hot flames brought great comfort, and while your body was tense from the free climbing your were doing, at least you were somewhere away from the fire. The sweat that the fire had created through your body, from your palms and neck to your knees and legs. The climb wasn’t going to be long either, it was just one room up from Denter’s. And once your hot hands from the soreness reached the railings, cold droplets cascaded down your back traveling alongside your collarbone. Though you were tired you needed just a little bit of extra strenght, propelling your leg slightly and get over the railings. With the sudden change in weight, it was just a matter of the help of gravity to help you get pulled down on the other side.

Your back layed there, with your eyes closed trying to breathe normally for a few seconds. The remaining sweat drops watered down from your nose until it reached your upper lip, before it got drowed in your mouth and the foul hot salty flavour spread throughout your tongue. Still breathing hard, and yet trying to slow it down to get some energy, you opened your eyes as you sat up, reminding yourself this was far from over. The guards underneath you saw climbing up the wall, and now you had to find a way down without getting caught, ideally without them noticing, but just escaping with a soul and all of your limbs was enough.

You sat there enough for two more breaths to escape your lips before you stood up and got yourself working. In any minute the knights would be surrounding you, and you needed o do something quick about it. With another deep sigh and let the tense muscles detangle themselves, you looked around to find something to help you, anything.

And you found something, something with the same mecahinism as a fish harpoon pleasantly came into contact with your eyes, and next to it a rope. The Maker must have surely given you this day as a way to redeem itself to you and all the years you’ve spent here, because the amount of luck you had in a single day were definitely more than all the years you’ve spent alive.

Already charged with a rope, you took the heavy mechanism and tightly strapped onto the edge of the poles, and without thinking to hard where to aim, you simply shot a place near the exit. The spealike end inemediately sprung out violently to meet up with a surfice and and hook it tightly enough. You had to be lying if you told yourself you were weren’t nervous, especially when the pounds of rapid steps getting louder and louder as you moved, and you knew the knights were about to find you. Taking away the white fabric surrounding you, you stepped over the long rope that had traveled across town with the spear. Throwing you cape over to the other side of the rope, finding said rope in the midde of the fabric, and your had gripped thightly for dear life onto both sides of the dirty fabric. You turned to look at your back, the steps were echoing through your head and you weren’t quite sure how far away the guards were, that was until, the sudden opening of the roof doors answered the question for you. The sudden noise made you almost jump in surprise and it helped you in tripping over the edge, and if it werent for the cape hanging onto he rope you would have fallen to your death.

Your scream could be heard further away than the accursed town, and you hoped that maybe the Mandalorian could have heard you, and luckily help get away from this situation. And even though some seconds passed your, voal chords gave it all and never decreased in it energy. Sliding down the town like a zip line, and you weren’t sure if it was the air hitting you or the fact that if you lossed your grip slightly you’d fall to your death, but your eyes were watering you and many droplet of salty wanter flawed dwn your cheeks and left you to meet the people below you. Something you weren't going to find out, the thought of looking how high you actually were gave you nausea and so you tightly closed you eyes from the rare instances of opening them again to see if you were nearing to the end.

But it was halfway through that the rope shook abruptly and you looked back, fear written across your face. You could only see the silhouette of the of a man, a darker shande than the sky, a nice contrast to see the guards actions. A blade on his hand as he motioned rapidly to where the rope was. This time, the rope fell apart and you’d fall dawn if the right texture of the rope had conveniently brushed your arm. You grabbed onto it before this chance disappeared. Once gravity had settled on you again, your arms almost passed out from the strength in which it was pulling you down, and an inner spark of determination to live made your hand remain a tighter grip onto the lace. You hadn’t realized you closed your eyes and you opened them, seeing the earth coming close to you as your lurching forward with the rope. You already knew the spot of where you were about to land, and so did the civilians who had plans for the night, as most of them got out of the way and take shield from the house. Except a woman, to blurry to know her age, she stood petrified as you came closer to her before the undeniable impact occurred. Her body felt like rocks against the rapid velocity you were traveling and both of you ended on the street. All of her belongings scattered across the pavement.

You were the first one to stand up, true pain hit you in the forehead, and you put your hand up to your bruise. And still a bit blurry and nausea form the impact you tried to run away before the knights reached to you once again. The exit wasn’t much further either, maybe ten meters away from you, and from where you stood, you could see the ship of the Mandalorian still standing, his ramp down. You walked toward your final destination, and the woman who was sent three meters away from you yelped when seeing you closening the space between you both. You looked at her confused, fear an pain could only be seen in her form. And then you found something else, a pendant of a rock, too dark to see the colour, but you did see the cut stone had been nicey decorated with a golden shine across from the cut, framing the mineral and shining along with the street lamps around you. You looked back at the woman before speeding towards the pendant, she screamed once again seeing again your incoming form but at a much faster speed. But once she saw you crunching down slightly to catch what was rightfully hers, she screamed this time more confident and indignant strained her voice. “YOU THIEF”

That’s what you were, and didin’t call yourself anything less. Your dad taught you to steal from the dead and abandoned, and you soon become a thief that would steal of the living as well if I so needed too. This pendant would be a great start of credits once the Mandalorian would leave you in some planet. You didin’t steal for pleasure like many did, you did it because you needed to provide for yourself somehow. You never claimed to be a good person anyway. If you were, you most likely wound’t be in this citation to begin with.

The sprint your legs were carrying felt strained at the beginning, with every action of your feet meeting the floor and you swore you could sense the inner working of your body working, arteries, bones, ligaments all of them unimanosly working and strained for the last bit of this escape. And as your mind was filled with the joy of knowing your were safe, the joy you were away from this place, the joy of freedom, that clouded your mind and fueled your veins, just the same as what charcoal did to some of the older droid prototypes. Determination to live. That very feeling numbed your legs and it felt like it was moving on its own, powered by this will to live.

The ship was near, maybe three meters from you. You could see the distinct feature the Mandalorians had. He was waiting for you, leaning from the wall. He did a slight shake on his helmet, an action you missed, and walked inside his traveling home.

It wasn’t long after your legs landed on the metallic ramp, a more noticeable heavy thump as you practically jump to get to safety faster. The change in direction, pace and speed from the inclination nearly gave your legs out. And just then you noticed the abuse your knees had to endure for the past hour. Sore and sweaty, that’s how you’d describe it. Each step, worse than the one before. You were so heavy, and yet your mind was so high. You coudn’t think straigh, and the pain was just striking your body. The veins circling your knees were vibrating uncomfortably around it, another sign of your heart racing rapidly other than the lungs thumpipjg your ears making it the only sound to exist at that very moment.

Your fuzzy brain, got ahold of the stairs inside the ship. How you gotten to that place already forgotten by the nauseating vision of yours. A mixture of yelp and sigh escape your lips, as your legs whine as your tried climbing up the ladder. Another dry huff came out, an action to comfort your legs for a second and try to propel yourself up in that milisecond of easiness. And again and again, you did that, each huff hurting your lungs further, and you had to almost ignore the electric shock from your legs after from the pulsating arteries surrounding it.

Maybe it was due to the lack of oxygen to your brin, but you coudn’t remember how managed to get into the cockpit and strap yourself into your seat, a little greenie sat on your lap and looking up at you. Your uneven breaths came out as heavy puffs, and now that you were resting you could feel the your hot cheeks from running that marathon. Looking back at the cape in your hand, you smiled slightly at the child as you covered him like a blanket. The heaviness of th whole ordeal closed your eyes. And as you felt the rise of the ship, you felt safe. This was finally done and dealt with. Best yet, you had your life, all of your limbs and you were free.

The night sky accompanying you in your dreams as you slumped in your seat and got comfortable. And as the child tried to get ahold of your attention, the Mandalorian called out to him and murmured sofly to let you rest after the long day you had.

___

Waking up to a sore body was not a fun way to start the day. Everything just hurt, from you hands that have been pierced by the little rocks as well as the burning sensation you had when you gripped onto the fabric when you managed to just escape the guards. Your legs from climbing and running. Your belly wasn’t necessarily hurt, but it was definitely numb, probably due to the thumping heart, your neck was sore from your sleeping position, and the worst one of all your forehead. It was sore, burning, hot and it gave you a terrible migraine so bad you could barely open your eyes.

Once your body started acknowledging your awakened form, your hand rushed to your forehead to rest on it, wincing slightly when you applied too much touch on it. You groaned again, and you closed your eyes again from the pain interfering with your eyes. You could tell, only by memory, that you were in the viewport. The cooing creature, doing what he knows best, cooed at the realization that you were awake. Another groan escaped your lips as your throbbing head just seemed to hurt and burn more, and you had to force down a gulp to quiet the yelp that was forming up your trachea.

“You okay?” the same raspy modulated voice questioned you, seeing your pained look. You stayed silent for a few seconds, hydrating your throat as to when you’d open your mouth your voice wound’t be shapesifted into a gran. Soothing once more the ball formed just above your throat, you spoke again.

“N- No, my head hur-” you stuttered along with with the scorching pain. Every throb felt like it was vibrating your mind, making it impossible to even think anything else other than the pain. You shut your eyes tighter, feeling the full blast of pain across your skin. You hadn’t even noticed how dry your voice was.

“Let me see” that’s what the Mandalorian said, and you obliged. You took in a deep breath and soon after deflated all of the air out of your lungs and removed your hands for him to see. You slightly opened your eyes to look up at him. The pain, though just barely, decreased slightly in soreness when the protection of the had was removed, feeling the cold air particles touching the very noticeable bruise.

His hard gloved hands took the sides of your head, and yu supposed it was to inspect better the bruise. He remained like this for a few seconds. An you wished the helmet was off, just so you could satiete your hunger on curiosity. What face was he making? How badly was the bruise? You were sure there’d be a mark, but how bad was it? Not even the reflection of his helmet gave away much. Everything was in dark tones, and you coudn’t quite make out the bruise itself.

He eventually sighed, standing up to walk aaway from the cockpit. You were about to question him, but he cut you off unexpectedly of him.

“I’ll get some bacta spray, your bruise looks nasty” he called out before he disappeared. You slowly, layed back onto the seat, trying best to soothe the angered bruise on your forehead, by breathing deeply and the exhaling it slowly.

But while your mind was rightfully on what mattered the most at the moment, the burst in your forehead you hadn’t seen yet. Your body relaxed in your seat almost too comfortably. The kid was looking at you, sad eyes written across it as he noticed the overwhelming pain you’re experiencing.

And you noticed how the kid’s presence was welcoming to you. It was like he was helping you, but rather, like a pet that was trying to comfort you after a long day at work, sitting closely to you, and you swore at some point he hugged you, or at least trued to with his tiny arms. You only looked down at the kid, grateful that he was nearby so you wound’t have to be feeling like crap alone. You tried to ignore how the past few days the presence of people clinged in your heart, starved for people. To have any social interaction, and to stop talking to yourself repeating it was a completely normal thing to do because you had no one to talk to. Now you had this green inspect thing, a cute one you have to add, giving you the starved attention you didn’t know you needed.

You had to admit it was tough, knowing you probably weren’t going to be with people in a short while. It was kind of unjust. You had something to didn’t know you needed, and soon after you it woud become non-existant.

You gulped again. You were gong to miss the kid, and the Mandalorian as well. As quiet as he was, he still listened, still made things to acknowledge you. Yeah, you definitely were goung to miss these two, or more specific, you were going to miss the feeling starved attention you never knew you had.

Or maybe, you could try talking to the Mandalorian. Convince him to join him and the kid. Afterall, it would be a win-win situation, you’d have a social circle and he would have his ship fixed. Yeah, you’ll try talking to him later. Your last thoughts dissipated as you heard the Mandalorian going up the ladder with something equivalent to a lifesaver. And though you couldn’t quite smile through the pain, the corners of your mouth slightly quirked up.

#the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian fanfic #mando x reader #mando #mandalorian #The mandalorian #fanfic

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hopelesshawks · 3 years

Note

Can I request a Compress x Reader? Babytrapping + Breeding?

Ohhh interesting, of course you can! I rarely write for the villains so this will be fun. You didn’t specify but because baby trapping I did fem!reader. I also just realized you might’ve meant reader baby trapping Compress but I wrote Compress baby trapping reader so I hope that’s what you wanted 😅

The following request contains dark content. Check the warnings before reading

Warnings for vomiting, pregnancy, manipulation, non-violent sexual assault (baby trapping), breeding kink, unprotected sex, oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), minor dumbification? (reader is very no thoughts, head empty during the smut), minor size kink, minor pain kink

Three years.

Three years together and yet you never would’ve guessed that your boyfriend is the notorious Mr. Compress of League of Villains infamy.

You first met Atsuhiro while working at a hole in the wall theater company. He came up to you after performing one night and had been so effortlessly charming that you’d instantly been put under his spell. He was more intelligent than all of your exes combined and could make you laugh like no one else could. It hadn’t taken long for you to fall totally and completely for the charming man you met that night.

But all of that came crashing down around you when he came home from a “business trip” with a prosthetic arm and no amount of half-assed excuses about an accident on stage could assuage your suspicions. He managed to dodge a confrontation with you for almost a week before you’d finally put the final pieces together and went to him to demand an explanation.

“You’re a terrorist Atsu!”

“That’s just what the heroes want you to think my love, don’t fall for their propaganda.”

“It’s not propaganda it’s just a fact! People have died because of your actions!”

“And how many more have suffered or died because of heroes and the society they created.”

“You’re deflecting. I have always indulged your rants about hero society but this is too far! The man I fell in love with would never stoop to this level!”

Atsuhiro crosses the room to you in two quick strides, cradling your face gently with his hand while you feel the cool metal of his other find your hip, fingers slipping under your shirt.

“I’m still the man you fell in love with (y/n), I can assure you of that,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours.

“How could that possibly be?”

“Let me show you.”

He pulls you into a gentle kiss, reassuring in its care. As his lips move against yours, gently coaxing them to open so he can deepen the kiss and slip his tongue inside, you struggle to maintain your earlier anger. It’s a distraction and you know it is but it’s hard to resist as he starts to move you both back towards your bedroom. He makes quick work of your clothes and by the time your back hits the plush of your mattress you’re both already naked. His mouth finally releases yours to travel down your body, leaving bruises in his wake as he marks you as his.

“Atsu, wait we should, ah-” you start but he quickly shushes you before licking a long stripe up your waiting sex.

“Just relax Angel, let me take care of you. Let your thoughts drift away,” he all but purrs.

You try to focus on the conversation you know the two of you need to have but it slips from your fingers like grains of sand as he brings one hand to your swollen clit and starts rubbing slow circles. Your hands tighten in the sheets as he draws a low, keening whine out of you. His hazel eyes dance with smug satisfaction as he watches you try and fail to form a coherent thought. He doesn’t let up the pressure on your clit for even a moment as he drops his mouth to your waiting cunt and plunges his tongue inside. Your hand flies down to his curly hair on impulse, tangling in the brown locks and gripping tight. Your nails scratch along his scalp and your tight grip tugs at the roots of his hair but he loves the pain of it, knows it’s a sign he’s doing well as he brings up his free hand to add two fingers inside you as well. After so long together he knows your body just as well as you do and it takes no time at all for him to find that one spot inside you that has you seeing stars. Your climax builds and builds until you finally crash through the peaks of your pleasure, walls fluttering around your lover’s tongue and fingers as he coaxes you through your orgasm.

You’ve barely had time to recover from your orgasm before you can feel his erection pressing at your entrance. “W-wait, Atsu, condom,” you pant, shifting in the bed to reach for the bedside drawer but Atsuhiro stops you. “We don’t need it baby, wanna feel closer to you,” he murmurs, pressing kisses along your face as he eases you back down to laying flat on the bed. “But what if-” “You’re on birth control right?” he cuts you off. “I mean yea but-” “Then it’ll be fine, you worry too much.”

Any further protests you might’ve had are immediately silenced as a snap of your boyfriend’s hips has the tip of his cock brushing your cervix. You gasp as your body attempts to adjust to his girth. “You’re taking me so well baby, isn’t this so much better? Feel how close we are. Nothing between us, just as it should be,” he coos and it does feel good, good enough that despite the voice in your head telling you you should be cautious, you only nod and beg for more. The grin Atsuhiro gives you is almost blinding right before he presses his lips to yours, kissing you greedily as he slowly withdraws his hard cock before pushing back inside you again. You whimper and whine into his mouth as he starts to pick up the pace, each thrust more brutal than the last. Eventually he leans back and away from you, shifting your hips so he can plunge himself in deeper, but with his lips no longer occupied with yours he’s free to let his thoughts spill out and into the room:

“Gonna fill you up so well, fuck, my beautiful Angel.”

“You and me forever baby, gonna look so good round with my kids.”

“Taking my cock so well, can’t wait until you’re full of my seed.”

The words wash over you but barely register. There’s no room in your brain left for anything else as Atsuhiro takes over every corner of it. Language becomes a foreign concept to you, barely able to articulate your own pleasure in more than the sinful sounds dripping from your lips, let alone trying to process your boyfriend’s ramblings. His thrusts start getting sloppier as he brings one hand between you both to stroke your clit and push you over the edge with him. “I’m so close angel, I’m so close. Cum with me. Want you to finish with me while I stuff you full of my cum,” he pants and all you can do is nod as the coil in your belly winds tighter and tighter. As you clench harder around him he goes toppling over the edge first, crying out your name as he spills his load inside you. You never would’ve anticipated enjoying it so much but it’s that feeling that sends you over the edge, falling apart around his cock as he finishes filling you with his cum.

He helps you come down from your high with sweet kisses and whispered words of encouragement, but as the haze of lust fades, you start to remember the fight you both were having before. As much as you would like for this to be the kind of thing you can just kiss and make up over, it’s not and you know it’s a conversation that needs to be finished. Looking at your boyfriend as he settles more comfortably on top of you though, you can’t bring yourself to ruin the moment. Sleep is weighing heavy on your eyelids anyway so you resolve yourself to bring it up the next day.

Except the next day ends the same way.

And the day after that.

And the day after that…

Every time you try to bring back up Atsuhiro’s secret double life as Mr. Compress he manages to distract you just long enough to get you back into bed. At first you tell yourself it’s not a big deal that the conversation’s been delayed a couple days, but then it turns into a week. A week of very hot sex, mind you, but if the existence of Atsuhiro’s double life was a red flag then certainly his insistence on avoiding discussing it is an even larger one. After two weeks you finally resolve yourself to talking to him the next morning over breakfast, no distractions and no avoiding the issue with sex. Cooking helps with your nerves, giving you something to do with your hands and a task to focus on to help you ignore your roiling stomach. You end up making almost an entire breakfast buffet by the time Atsuhiro emerges from your shared bedroom to join you in the kitchen.

He barely has time to tell you good morning before you’re rushing him to the table and setting plates full of food down. You know you have to tread carefully so you use the time you both spend eating to organize your thoughts. This time for sure you’ll talk to him. You finally open your mouth to confront Atsuhiro once and for all but as you feel bile start to crawl up your throat what comes out instead is “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

No sooner have you said the words are you shoving away from the table and rushing into the nearest bathroom. You get to the toilet just in time, fingers clutching the rim of the bowl as you violently eject the contents of your stomach into the water below. It burns your throat coming up and your eyes sting, but a warm, comforting presence is by your side in an instant, one hand coming up to rub your back gently as the other pulls your hair away from your face. Only once your stomach is thoroughly emptied does the heaving finally stop and you’re able to sit back and catch your breath. “Are you ok my love? What’s wrong?” Atsuhiro asks with gentle care as he pulls you close. You shake your head, unsure yourself of what had turned your stomach. Sure, you were nervous to talk to Atsuhiro but not that nervous. It can’t have been something you ate since all you’d had was the breakfast you made and you know everything was cooked properly. You rack your brain for an answer only to go rigid when you start to settle on one.

“Atsu what’s the date?”

“The 22nd baby, why?”

Your blood runs cold.

You’d been so preoccupied with figuring out things with Atsuhiro that you hadn’t even noticed how much time was slipping past but there’s no doubt about it. Your period is two weeks late.

“I think I need to go to the doctor,” you whisper. No way in hell you’ll leave this up to a drugstore test. There must be another explanation for your sudden nausea. Sure, you and Atsuhiro had pretty much abandoned condoms. Every time you started to reach for one, he’d remind you how good it felt not to use one the first time and convince you to forgo it again. But you’re on birth control! This isn’t supposed to be possible.

God bless him, Atsuhiro doesn’t press you any further on why exactly you want to go to the doctor instead of trying to find something at home to settle your stomach. He simply helps you off the floor and then grabs the keys to your car so he can drive you to the doctor himself. You’re incredibly grateful that he doesn’t seem to share your nerves. He’s a calming presence next to you as your anxiety kicks into overdrive.

You’d asked Atsuhiro to take a seat without you while you checked into the urgent care. You didn’t want him to hear you describe your symptoms to the nurse waiting there. The kind woman immediately suspects the same thing you do and leads you to the bathroom so you can pee in a cup. She’s sympathetic and reassuring as she tells you to return to the waiting room while the doctor runs the pregnancy test but it does little to soothe your frayed nerves. The air in the waiting room feels oppressive and when your name is finally called to go back and see the doctor, Atsuhiro’s hand in yours is probably the only thing that keeps you grounded. You take a seat on the examination table and instead of moving to sit down in one of the chairs in the room, Atsu stays by your side, whispering reassurances into your ear. “Whatever’s going on I’m here for you my love.”

The doctor strides into the room shortly afterwards, greeting you warmly even if somewhat absentmindedly as she moves to the computer to check for your details. She confirms your date of birth and then after scrolling for a bit her eyes finally land on the results of your test. She smiles and your heart sinks. “Well it looks like congratulations are in order, you’re pregnant!” she exclaims, beaming at you. A lump forms in your throat as tears threaten to fall, anxiety making your hands shake as the weight of the situation starts to crash down on you. The doctor misinterprets your reaction and as she leaves the room to get you pamphlets on what to expect and how best to take care of yourself during your pregnancy, her reassuring words that promise you’ll make a great mother are anything but.

As soon as the doctor leaves the room you break, tears cascading down your cheeks as your chest heaves. Atsuhiro pulls you into his embrace, letting you fall apart in his arms as you come to terms with the news. “I’m not ready to be a mom, I can’t do it on my own,” you cry, hands clenching onto his shirt. “I know my love, I know, but you’ll never be alone as long as you have me. I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you,” he assures you, pulling you in even closer.

As you continue to cry into his chest, murmuring hiccuping thank you’s between heaving sobs, Atsuhiro can’t help but smile to himself.

He’ll have to remember to thank Dr. Garaki for the fake birth control pills later.

General Taglist: @ahtsuwu @oikawaandkuroostan @larkspyrr @oliviasslut @black-rose-29

#hopeless.thirst #hopeless.dark #mr compress #mr compress smut #bnha mr compress #mr compress x reader #atsuhiro sako #atsuhiro sako x fem!reader #mr compress x fem!reader #atsuhiro sako x reader #pregnancy tw #vomit tw #baby trapping tw #hhrequests

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tooweirdforyou · 3 years

Text

When The OP Boys Are Sick

A/N : idk enjoy. And honestly all of them would be very needy for attention :p

Includes : Kid, Law, Luffy, CAVENDISH 🤍 and Bartolomeo.

Summary : how these five boys react when they’re sick in bed.

Luffy

Luffy is a child so he wants attention, but he’ll be the wailing, sobbing type. If he isn’t, then he’s the drunk type.

“[NAAAAMEEEE]! I WANT MEAT!..”

The poor rubber boy suddenly became weak and falls back into bed with a thud, his face exploding in the burning fever he was having.

“Luffy..” you sigh in exasperation, rushing over and checking his temperature before tucking him back in. “Sanji’s making you some soup, with small bites of chicken, you can’t have big cooked meat yet.”

Luffy cries out in agony dramatically, wailing at the thought of no meat and groans. “I WANT MEATTTT! Get me meat nowww!”

Your head began to ring with Luffy’s cries, his tears staining his cheeks and pillow, while his snot began to fill up and drip down his nose. His sniffles were heard and you can tell Nami was slowly fuming outside the room from Luffy’s childish cries.

You just smile softly and go over to your Captain, placing your hand in his and leaned close, pressing your forehead to his.

The action made Luffy stop as he quieted down and stares at you with teary eyes and small sniffles.

“Luffy, your fever is slowly but surely going down. If you relax, rest and eat Sanji’s delicious soup then you’ll be better by tomorrow afternoon. I’ll spend some beli’s to get you meat, okay?”

Luffy’s teary eyes slowly went away and a hopefully and starry glint shined in them. “..really?”

“Yes, now relax and get some rest, alright? When Sanji’s done with your soup, I’ll bring it to you.”

Luffy then plasters a wide grin and and chuckles eagerly. “Shishishi~ okay!~” he sang out, gripping the blanket and shutting his eyes.

You shake your head playfully at how easily he listened and just smiled at him, letting him rest.

“Good night, Luffy.”

Law

Law is the strong silent type, so he won’t say anything, he’s just all shy and embarrassed easily when he’s sick~

“It’s amazing that even you can get sick.”

Your lips curve up in amusement as you sat in the chair beside Law’s bed, said male currently resting upon it with shallow breathing and shut eyes.

Your legs were crossed and in your hand was a good book you were reading. The appearance was similar to Law’s whenever you were sick and honestly, it made you feel prideful and great to have the roles reversed.

“Shut up..” Law turns away onto his side to hide his face which was surely pink, but not due to the fever.

You giggle at him and set your book to the side and lean closer to him. “Don’t be embarrassed, Law, everyone gets sick once in a while. Even doctors.” You tease, making the poor boy flush further as he clicks his tongue.

“Stop talking. Leave, I’m sleeping now.”

You just giggle further and stand up. “Fine, I’ll be back with some soup for you. You want bread with it?”

Law pales and he gives a sharp look to you with the tilt of his head. “I swear if you try that, I’ll-“

“Yeah, yeah. See you in a bit.” You roll your eyes playfully and went to walk away when Law grabs your hand.

“What is it-“

With force, Law pulls you back to the bed and into it beside him, and he turns to wrap his arms around your torso.

Your back is facing him so you can’t see his face but his tight grip on your waist and legs around yours let’s you know you aren’t going anywhere.

“Stay.”

“You literally just said to-“

“I know what I said! Now I want you to stay!”

He buries his face into the neck and hair and inhaled your scent a bit, relaxing his grip and just held your closer.

“Just stay with me..”

Kid

Kid is literally a giant ass toddler who wants nothing but attention, but his stubborn ass will act all strong and tough.

“Fuck off! Leave me alone! Come in here and I’ll rip you to shreds and blow you to guts!”

Kid’s loud yells and scowl made the poor lackey outside the door jump in fear and scurry off with his life flashing.

You gave a sympathetic expression to him and exhale, mentally cursing Killer for insisting the Captain to let him take care of those Pirates yesterday, only for Kid to be stubborn and take care of it himself.

It lasted longer than intended since various sea kings appeared and the snow appearing just made it much worse, and now, Kid was sick.

Knocking on the door twice, you wait for a response before letting yourself in.

“OI! DID YOU NOT HEAR ME?! I SAID!-“

“Alright, stop yelling already.” Your voice interrupts, slamming the door shut behind you and tossing a cool towel in Kid’s face.

The red head scowls when the towel drops onto his lap when he sat up and scoffs when he sees you. “Get out. Your face irritates me.”

“Thanks.” You lazily smile at him and walk closer towards the bed, setting down a fresh glass of water and some meds for him. “Here, take these.”

Kid eyes the items you set down and turns away. “No way. That shit is disgusting.” The visible sweat forming on his face makes you sigh as you grab a cloth and wipe it gently, much to Kid’s dismay.

“This shit is what will let you get out of bed, Captain dumbass, now take it.” You say, pulling away and Kid narrows his eyes. “What’d you say?!”

“I said-!”

Kid’s rough pull when he grasps your wrist is enough to yank you into his lap and he’s quick to pin you down to the bed.

He smirks down at you before dropping his weight onto yours, successfully crushing you and eliciting a painful grunt from you.

“Agh, get off me, Kid, I have to go help Killer-!”

“Too bad, I have to rest in order to get better, so that’s what I’m doing. You’re stuck here until then.” Kid says, adjusting a bit so both him and you were comfortable as he continues to lay sprawled on top of you.

You hiss and curse into his ear but Kid pays no mind and quite easily falls asleep, making you groan in annoyance and just lay there, exhaling heavily until Killer came in.

“...you’re so fucking heavy..”

Cavendish

Oi.. clingy baby omg- Cavendish is precious and so adorable because he’ll want nothing more than to just sleep but with you in his arms. Just pray Hakuba doesn’t show up.

“Come, [Name]! Lay down with yours truly and provide me your body warmth!”

“No.”

Cavendish is visibly shocked when you refuse him and he springs up rather quickly, causing dizziness to form in his aching head. “Ack-“

You heave a sigh and push the tall blonde down on his back and switch the wet rag on his forehead for a fresh one.

“If I lay down with you, I’ll get sick. Who will watch after you then?”

Cavendish merely puffs his cheeks out in defeat and exhales heavily, feeling his forehead burning up despite the chills his body was receiving.

“I’m tired and cold and hot and hungry at the same time!” Cavendish cries out in pure frustration, making you smile at his pain, you patting his chest gently.

“I know, Caven.” You hush out in a soft voice, rubbing soothing circles on the back of his hand while the others played with his hair.

You pulled the covers up to his shoulders and let him rant on exhaustedly before slowly drowsing off with your delicate touches.

Just as he was about to completely pass and sleep, he mumbles out a few words at the end of his rant.

“...thank you.. [Name]..”

Bartolomeo

Bartolomeo is constantly passing out because someone like you is seriously taking care of him. He won’t ever recover, just staying sick for days.

“The one and only [Name] in the flesh!! Taking care of me!?” Tears began welling up in his eyes as Bartolomeo bit his upper lip to prevent making noise.

“What have I done to deserve such a blessing?”

He continued to sob tears of joy, his tears successfully soaking and wetting his cheeks and pillowcase, a bit of his blanket as well.

Suddenly there was a knock on his door.

Startled, Barto quickly pulled up the covers to hide his teary, flushed face and felt his heart beating a million miles a minute.

“Barto, are you awake? I made you some soup.” Your angelic voice calls out and Barto’s heart nearly stops. He was too tongue-tied to speak, only stammering out incoherent noises under the covers.

Assuming he was in pain, you set the bowl down and rip off the covers in a panic, just to see Bartolomeo teary with wide eyes staring up at you.

His face was flushed more than usual and you frown, placing a hand on his forehead. The action alone nearly made him pass out.

“You still have such a high fever... should I take you to Luffy’s doctor?” You ask softly, worry evident in your eyes.

At the mention of seeing the Straw hats, Bartolomeo’s eyes widens and he literally lets out a loud gasp before nearly fainting.

“S-S-S-Straw Hat Luffy?—!”

A/N : I wanna write something. I really do. I wanna WRITE, but my hands and head doesn’t want to. Ugh, I feel so unmotivated! >:))) but I’ll push through. I have something I want to do.

Also, I love Cavendish sm but I can’t write for him 😭 whyyyy?

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ptergwen · 3 years

Text

call me cupid

w/c: 3.5k

warnings: very mild angst and a few swears

summary: despite your hatred for valentine’s day, peter attempts to make you a card

a/n: happy valentine’s day my loves!! i hope y’all get to spend some time with your people today and eat lots of chocolate <3 love you & enjoy mwah

it’s no secret that peter is terrible with words. he gets so flustered he can’t talk or forgets what he wants to say altogether. school presentations are torture. ordering food out is impossible. he’s accepted it at this point, that speaking just isn’t for him.

the one place it doesn’t come across is on paper. peter is ridiculously smart, and he knows all the right words to string together, which is why writing you a valentine should be no trouble at all. should be no trouble at all.

to tell the truth, he’s been sitting at his kitchen table with a blank sheet of paper in front of him for what feels like hours. nothing is coming to him. he’s not sure why this is so hard. you’re his girlfriend, he loves you, he’s said it so many times in every way he could think to. what’s different about it now?

everyone puts way too much pressure on giving the perfect gift when they should really just be enjoying each other’s company on a holiday about love. or, in your words, a meaningless holiday that was created by capitalists as another excuse to take people’s money.

alright, you aren’t too fond of valentine’s day.

it makes anyone who’s single feel like shit and anyone who’s in a relationship lose their shit.

only mj agreed when you shared your criticisms. ned and betty gave you looks like you were insane, and flash muttered something about you being undateable. peter had laughed and swung an arm around your shoulders, but he didn’t fully agree.

although valentine’s day has its flaws, peter likes to see it as twenty four hours of extra appreciation for the people in his life. you can buy chocolate for your friends and family. it doesn’t have to be a significant other, really. him and ned would do it before he had you and ned had betty.

peter wants to remind you how loved you are even if you’re not into the festivities like he is, that bringing him to writing your card. it’s a simple and clinically underrated way of expressing his gratitude. he’d write you love letters every day if he didn’t suck at them.

may comes out of her room to see peter in the same place he’s been since he got home from school. she looks at him through her glasses, smiling as she comes into the room. he’s tapping his pencil on the table, eraser down, searching his mind for anything to write.

“still nothing?” may asks him, making her way over to the cabinets. peter puts down the pencil and sighs. his shoulders slump. “nope. i haven’t gotten past the intro.” “intro, huh?” she teases her newphew and grabs a jar of sauce. “y/n isn’t your teacher, kiddo. you’re not writing her an essay.” she looks at peter over her shoulder. a sheepish smile creeps onto his face.

“you know what i mean.” he reads over the only words on his paper at the moment. dear y/n. he’s starting to feel like spongebob the one time he wrote a paper. “what are you making?” peter asks may so he can temporarily take the focus off his unwritten valentine. “pasta,” may shakes the box in her hand. “and meatballs.”

“should i dial 911 now or wait until we’re in flames?” peter jokes about her awful cooking skills. may shoos him off and puts the box of pasta on the counter. “worry about your own kitchen nightmare.” she nods at the sheet of paper tormenting him. frowning, he glances back at her. “i’m the worst, may. i really don’t know what to write.”

may struggles to open the jar of sauce as she replies. “i thought you said- jesus.” it pops off. “y/n doesn’t like valentine’s day.” she slides over a pot from the stove and dumps the sauce in. peter stares up at the ceiling. “she doesn’t.” that’s probably why he’s having such a hard time. “why are you writing her a card, then?” may questions, turning on a burner.

“because, i dunno, it’s nice? it’ll make her happy? she might not care, but i do.” he mumbles the last part. he’s a bit of a hopeless romantic, so he hasn’t quite adjusted to the idea you had of not getting each other presents. you’re treating it like a regular day. some takeout and cuddles is all you’re doing.

peter would rather buy you things until his pockets are empty. not that there’s much in them, anyway. the point is that you deserve proper spoiling instead of corny words in his shitty handwriting.

“peter, honey. it might be better to stick with what y/n wants,” may suggests while stirring the sauce in the pot. she’s well aware that a few paragraphs from peter won’t change your mind. your opinions belong to you, and there’s nothing he can do about it, though he does have good intentions.

ignoring what may just said, peter makes a request. “what if you help me write it?” she faces the stove again. he can picture her playful smile when she quirks back, “she’s not my girlfriend.” “no, but you’re a girl... a woman,” he corrects himself, earning a scoff from may. “you’d probably know what sounds good.”

“you know y/n better than me, peter. do it on your own,” she exhales and turns back around with the wooden spoon in her hand. “it’ll be more... heartfelt.” peter hates that may is right because he’s completely stuck. his heart is being stupid today. “okay. i’ll try.” he gives her a slow nod. “why don’t you take a break? come stir the sauce. i’ll start the pasta.”

peter gets up from the table and grabs the spoon from may. she pinches his cheek on her way to the sink, getting a tight lipped smile from him.

this is not good.

the next day at school, peter asks around the lunch table for advice while you’re on line getting food. he feels guilty about it because may told him not to. he’s never going to get your valentine done if he doesn’t, though. it isn’t the worst thing in the world to bring on some co-writers.

“ok, what do you have so far?” betty asks, fully invested in the situation. she’s hoping this will switch up your views on valentine’s day. peter pulls out the same piece of paper from last night and says verbatim what’s on it. “dear y/n.” he looks up at ned and betty, the corners of his mouth twitching down. ned motions with his hand for peter to go on.

“that’s it,” peter confesses and folds the paper back up in shame. “dude, you told us it was a work in progress,” ned winces, betty taking his hand that’s resting on her shoulder. “where’s the progress?” betty patronizes him. they’re making him feel worse than he already did. what great co-writers he’s collaborating with.

peter throws a hand up, an eye roll included. “yeah, it’s terrible. can you help me or not?” mj narrows her own eyes at peter from the other end of his bench. she’s not interested in participating when the conversation is about forcing you to celebrate a holiday you don’t like.

“ooh!” betty squeals and squeezes ned’s hand. “you should make a list.” ned grins, leaning his head on hers. “genius, babe.” “a list of what?” peter furrows his eyebrows as he looks between the two of them. “what you love about y/n,” she explains, ned adding on, “stuff you do together, or you appreciate.”

“put whatever you come up with into sentences and voilà,” betty says in her best french accent. “oui oui,” ned agrees, both of them giggling. that doesn’t sound half bad. peter could manage a list about you. “thank you so much, guys. you literally just saved valentine’s day,” he confidently tucks his paper into his pocket. “it’s what we do,” ned tells him coolly.

“you never asked what i think,” mj cuts in, staring down her friends, who reluctantly meet her gaze. she pushes her bag of goldfish aside and raises an eyebrow. “mj, we know how you feel about valentine’s day.” peter presses his lips together. “y/n feels the same way,” mj reminds him dryly.

it’s true, but he doesn’t want to hear that right now. he’s having a breakthrough.

like clockwork, you appear at the table. you slip into the spot next to peter and put down your lunch tray. “what’d i miss?” you comment on the obvious tension, eyeing betty for an explanation. mj gives it to you. “valentine’s day discourse,” she tells you knowingly. peter shifts in his seat, uncomfortable, like he’s been caught doing something he isn’t supposed to.

he technically has.

“yuck,” you murmur, winding your arms around peter’s neck. “yuck, yuck, yuck.” he finds your words ironic because you then kiss his cheek, and peck his lips when he turns his head. peter puts a hand on your side and lets his eyes go up and down your face. a smile spreads across it, which he returns without thinking about. mj huffs in disapproval. she’s seen enough pda.

peter makes his list later that night. he decided he isn’t being inauthentic because he’s coming up with everything himself. he breezes right through it, jotting down what he loves most about you across the paper. it’s a mess. scribbled out misspellings and shreds of eraser, single words and whole phrases covering both sides. he’s proud of his actual progress.

he’ll write the official letter tomorrow since you’re coming over tonight. he at least has his material. the next, thankfully final, step is to reword it.

you’re ranting to peter about some drama with one of your teachers. he listens intently as always, chuckling when you crack jokes and grinning the entire time, feeling so lucky to have the most passionate, say whatever is on her mind girlfriend ever. seriously, it’s inspiring to watch.

“no, like, i never know what’s going on in that class,” you snort, peter snaking his arms around your middle from behind. “because you don’t pay attention,” he hums with his face nuzzled into the back of your neck. “because it doesn’t make any sense!” you defend yourself. his lips brush against your bare skin, drawing a giggle out of you.

“back to what i was saying,” your voice drips with sarcasm. the two of you naturally gravitate to his room, you walking in first. “she called on me, and i- what’s this?” you escape peter’s arms and head over to his desk. crap, he was working on your valentine and forgot to put it away. it caught your attention because it’s surrounded by crumpled papers and glitter.

peter was... experimenting... with designs for the front of the card. he’s learned that he isn’t too artistic either.

“wait, don’t read that,“ peter tries, but you’ve already got the list in your hands. he anxiously sucks his lower lip into his mouth and comes to stand next to you.

you first see the ‘dear y/n,’ then focus in on a few other words. my person forever, which makes you coo at the paper. insane (in the best way), which makes you gasp dramatically. i know you don’t like valentine’s day, but...

you drop the card back on the desk and let out a breath, shutting your eyes as irritation creeps in. it wouldn’t be fair for you to be mad at peter because it’s a sweet gesture, it really is. just, not for you personally. you’re on opposite sides of the valentine’s spectrum. you despise it, he sort of loves it. you’d hoped to meet somewhere in the middle.

“i thought we said no gifts,” you keep your voice level and spin around to look at peter. his face is painted with guilt. “it’s a card,” he murmurs, then meets your eyes with his brows knitted together. “i can’t even give you a card?” “i mean...” you shrug and shake your head. “look, peter. we had an agreement. i’m not doing valentine’s day.”

his disappointment comes out in the form of hanging his head. “yeah, you’re right. sorry.”

may tried to tell him this would happen, mj tried to tell him, and now you’re telling him. he should’ve expected it. he isn’t sure why he’s being so mopey about it because he was fully aware of your hatred for anything with the word valentine in it. it still hurts. peter just wishes you’d let him have the one day to love you and only you, give you some special attention.

“it’s nothing against you, babe,” you reassure him, noticing the shift in his mood. you put a hand on his shoulder. “i really just don’t like valentine’s day. it feels so... fake to me.” peter musters up a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. it drops when you loop your arms around his torso.

“if i celebrated, you’d be the first person i’d wanna spend it with.” you punctuate your words with a kiss to his cheek. he rests his chin on your head, you nuzzling your own cheek into his sweater. he’s feeling a bit better now. it’s not about him, that’s what he needs to remind himself. “thanks, baby,” peter speaks lowly into the air. you hum as if to say no problem.

scratch literally everything he’s done.

peter rolls over in his bed, rubbing at his eyes as his alarm goes off. it’s today. happy valentine’s day to... himself. he doesn’t think you’d want to hear it.

he’s not as broken up about everything as the other day. you have your reasons for not celebrating, and peter accepts them. hey, he still gets to spend the whole day with you. you’re technically having an unspoken valentine’s date.

he gets up from his bed with a yawn and starts to dig through his drawers for an outfit. you should be over soon.

before you head over to peter’s, you decide to make a quick stop at cvs for a few things. you ended up feeling pretty terrible about snapping on him essentially for loving you. it was over a harmless valentine, something to make you feel good and be an outlet for the hundreds of romantic bones in his body. basically, you were bitter about having a thoughtful boyfriend.

you want to make it up to him by giving him gifts instead. you’ll never be down with the whole exploitive and capitalistic side of valentine’s day, but there’s a deeper meaning to it than what you give it credit for. you see that now. peter was able to show his love for you through a homemade mess of a card, and you felt it. the price tags don’t matter. the meaning does.

dressed in his nicest sweater with his hair all styled, peter answers your knocking at his door. a grin instantly paints his face as he takes you in. you’re bundled up in a coat and holding a bag by your side. “hey,” he greets you and lets you past him. you shut the door behind him, returning the smile and winding an arm around his neck for a hug. his drapes around your back.

“hey. happy valentine’s day.” “happy valentine’s-“ peter realizes what he’s about to say and what you just said, then stops himself. “what?” he breaks the hug, squinting at your odd behavior. you’re the last person he’d expected to hear that from. “it’s valentine’s day. so, happy valentine’s day,” you tell him like it’s nothing.

he stays quiet while you shrug off your coat and throw it over one of the kitchen chairs. you bring your bag along with you, peter following you in. he’s suspicious. intrigued, and suspicious. it’s been less than a day since he last say you. you had a change of heart that fast? you aren’t the biggest valentine’s day anti he knows anymore?

“where’s may?” you wonder aloud, taking both of peter’s hands in your now free ones. he eyes the shopping bag you put down while you lace your fingers together. “with happy. they’re getting brunch.” he’s never particularly psyched to talk about their relationship. it’s always been in a joking way, though. now, he sounds genuinely upset to go over may’s whereabouts.

“they’re so cute,” you comment, tugging on peter’s hands so he looks at you. “you good?” “great,” peter half lies and nods, then presses a reassuring kiss to your cheek. he’s not bad. puzzled is the word. what you say next only adds to it.

“good. i have a few things for you,” you beam at him and grab your shopping bag off the chair. that’s what that’s for? peter isn’t fully sure what you’re up to. it doesn’t stop a smile from stretching across his lips, though.

“what happened to no presents?” he tests you as you reach into the bag. “well, i feel bad about how i acted the other day.” you pull out a heart shaped box of chocolates. “the card was really sweet, and i was too caught off guard to appreciate it. i’m sorry, pete.” peter’s eyes twinkle at you, gazing as you give him a smile with a hint of shyness behind it. you’re leaving your comfort zone and entering his.

“i was wrong and cynical and just, yeah. happy valentine’s day,” you add on and shove the box into his hand. he finally grins, so wide and then lets out a breathy laugh. “thanks, y/n. i know it was probably hard to shop being surrounded by this stuff.” he holds up the box. he’s right. you’ll unfortunately be seeing pink and red for weeks. “it was, but i did it for you.” you happily open up your arms for him.

peter puts down the chocolates and pulls you into his arms, his cheek squished against the side of your head as he hugs you to his chest. “oh my god, i love you so much,” he mumbles out, you squeezing him in response. “i love you, pete.” you press a quick kiss to his neck and hold him at arm’s length so you can see him. “i have something else for you.”

“baby,” peter coos, a pout on his lips. “you don’t have to do all of this. i would’ve been fine without the chocolates, even.” “stop, you deserve it,” you shut down the part of him that’s way too nice and selfless. “you’re my real present,” he says lower and with a toothy smile. shaking your head, you reach behind you and into the bag.

he can’t believe you’ve switched stances on valentine’s day. you’re the present pusher, and he’s refusing them. peter thinks it’s some sort of miracle that you’re not only acknowledging the holiday, you’re also partaking in it. his hopeless romantic side tells him it’s actually love, and it is. that’s the cheesy, hallmark movie truth. you suffered through shopping at a heart themed cvs because you love him. simple.

you return with a pink envelope that you place into peter’s hand. his face softens as he closes his fingers around it. “y/n, you made me a card?” “kind of,” you laugh at his overstatement. it’s obviously pre-made. you’d used a pen to fill it out in the store, scribbled a few words and tucked it into the envelope.

“it really doesn’t compare to yours, though,” you simultaneously warn and compliment him. peter dismisses you with a lighthearted click of his tongue. “oh, shush. that was only a rough draft.” “which proves my point even more. open it.” you grip onto the bottom of his sweater and grin.

he keeps his eyes on you while ripping open the envelope, then looks down and chuckles at the gag of the card. it has r2d2 and r4d4 from star wars on the front. inside is already written, “r4 is red and r2 is blue. if i was the force then i’d be with you.” you giggle to yourself, watching him read what you wrote next. i love you more every day, especially on valentine’s. xo, y/n.

peter holds the card to his side and slings an arm around your waist. “they make star wars valentines?” he murmurs, another smile breaking out on his face, one that you of course return. you use his sweater to pull him closer. “apparently. perfect for you.” peter tosses the card down next to the chocolates, both arms now holding you.

“thank you so much, baby. you’re an angel,” he sighs and pecks your lips after. “call me cupid,” you answer.

you give him a longer kiss back, tilting your head up to deepen it. your hands find their place on his biceps, earning a hum from peter as he moves his lips against yours. you can feel his love in every little movement, how he hugs your waist like you’re made of glass, rests his forehead against yours. when your lips mutually detach, peter speaks first, voice slightly husky.

“happy valentine’s day, cupid.”

you breathe out, peter closing his eyes in content.

“happy valentine’s day, r2.”

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland smut #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker smut

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laheysdork · 3 years

Note

I just read your last imagine and since we can request a headcannon can you do one with dating teacher dylan? Congrats on 500🥳

thank you anon!!! i see that many of yall love teacher!dyl 👀 so hope you also enjoy this hc:

when you saw him during your first lecture, you thought he was really cute

and after joining a few more, you came to love his personality

his lectures were entertaining, he loved to include little jokes or funny stories

after a while, you slowly had a crush on him

you thought it was silly and that it would probably just go away

but it didn’t, and as time went you grew miserable

he would never notice you, right?

wrong, he did notice you

the first time he saw you was during his seventh lecture

you were a little behind in taking notes, leaving you almost alone in the lecture hall with him as the rest of the students were already departing

after you were done, you packed your things and gave him a small smile before leaving like the others

dylan was swept off his feet

he was wondering why he did not notice you before

since that day, he always had his eyes on you every lecture, in a subtle non-creepy way of course

he was surprised at how much you had an effect on him

you guys never really talked until one day when there was an open internship as his personal teaching assistant

despite his feelings, he offered you the position because of your remarkable performance in his class

you were beyond thrilled, finally landing a legit internship and it is under your crush’s supervision

when you first started, it was definitely awkward

but slowly the two of you adjusted, and you two became good friends

turns out, you two had a lot in common like the two of you loved star wars, big fans of mets, listen to taylor swift and harry styles and more

even so, there was still an unresolved sexual tension that none of you wanted to bring up

you did thought about telling him how he felt but you were afraid

so was he

but things got a little complicated when he accidentally heard you call your best friend, ranting about your crush on him

you avoided him for a whole week

but then he had enough and decided to show up in your apartment

he brought your favorite cake and confessed his feelings to you

and let’s just say since that night, you two were officially a thing

you would stay back after class to grab lunch with him

or he would visit your apartment early to cook breakfast

but the two of you had to keep it down

you didn’t want to give the authorities any reason that could get you kicked out or dylan fired

so you kept on dating him in secret for a year before you finally graduate

and it was all worth it

#sleepover: 500 followers #dylan o’brien #dylan o’brien au #dylan o’brien edits #dylan o’brien imagines #dylan o’brien imagine #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #mitch rapp #thomas

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yourtamaki · 3 years

Text

a kind dream, a cold reality

keigo x f!reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: angst, hurt no comfort, neglect

there was peace in stability. when exciting beginnings morphed into routine, safe knowing exactly how your days would pan out.

there was also distance. when love declarations became monotone, more habit then heartfelt and kisses become another chore to check off a list.

when did domesticity become purgatory, doomed to repeat actions until all sparks of life had been drained away?

you stood in the kitchen, preparing dinner nearly on autopilot. you didn’t have to look at the time anymore, you’re own internal clock telling you there was 30 minutes until it was done, perfectly timed for when keigo came home from work.

for when he’s supposed to come home at least.

you tried to not think of how many meals had gone cold while waiting for him to return from wherever it was he decided was important to be then with you. at least the neighbours loved you, accepting the countless dishes that would otherwise have gone to waste. you wondered what lie you should tell them today. that you had made too much? that you were trying out a new recipe? you had plenty of time to decide.

setting the table was now a mindless activity, each plate and piece of cutlery placed just so across the dining table. when everything was in its rightful place, you brought out the pasta dish, setting it in the middle in a large bowl with tongs propped up inside. you could never guess how much keigo would eat on any given day so it was always best to let him serve himself. with nothing left to do, you took your seat before the empty plate, staring blankly ahead at where keigo was supposed to be.

you used to love this table. it had been the first thing you and keigo had bought together when you first moved in together. not a bed or a couch. a dining room table from a second hand store he insisted you had to go to because, “we need something alive with memories, songbird.”

you remember how you had both spotted it at the same time. tucked away in the corner, legs scuffed to hell but with the most beautiful dark oak surface you’d ever seen. you hadn’t realized how small it was either until you both sat down for the first time with shitty takeout because neither of you had thought to buy cookware. it was impossible for your knees not to bump into keigo’s, for his thigh not to end up between yours. you both loved the table too much to return it so you had to learn to adjust. now, it was your favourite aspect about the table, the added feeling of closeness as you shared a meal with the love of your life. it set the tone for the rest of your house, turning it from somewhere to live to a shared home.

these days, you had more space then you knew what to do with, your legs could swing under the table unobstructed. you hated it.

your stomach growled, the sound quickly swallowed up by the vast silence. you didn’t want to eat. not yet, not while there was a chance he showed up and you wouldn’t ruin your first meal together in who knows how long just because you got a little peckish. you could wait.

and wait you did.

you plated up a portion for yourself as the setting sun darkened the house, eating mechanically until your fork had nothing left to pick up. the next part was almost a ritual at this point. storing the food away in tupperware, cleaning the dishes, wiping down the kitchen so come morning you could start the cycle once more. you had perfected the routine down to every last detail. there was nothing left to do but get ready to sleep and lay in bed, idly playing with the crimson feather that hung around your neck.

you could refrain from touching it throughout the day but you couldn’t stand not holding it when you were alone in the too wide bed. you were supposed to be surrounded by hundreds of these feathers. you missed the way his wings would wrap around you during the night, pulling you into keigo’s chest. sleep wasn’t the same without them but you had no choice but to make do with the lone feather.

was this going to be the rest of your life? cooking meals no one would eat, cleaning an already spotless house, sleeping cold and alone? this isn’t the future keigo promised you when he got down on one knee, tears already streaming down his face. you weren’t naive, you knew there would be hard times in your marriage. it couldn’t be sunshine and roses all the time. you just thought he would be by your side when those times came.

a tapping at the window had you shooting up in bed in fear, head whipping towards the sound. an all too familiar outline was hovering outside, waving for you to open the window. you carefully made your way across the dark room. you’d unlatched the large window so many times it had become muscle memory and soon enough, your husband was flying through, landing lightly on his feet.

for a brief moment, a warm burst of love filled you. he was home, just an arm’s length away. you knew you’d forgive everything, everything, if he wrapped you up in a tight hug. the one that hurt your ribs and left your feet dangling in the air as he swung you around. the one where you felt his laugh more than heard it, you were pressed so close to his chest. that’s all you needed to remind yourself what you were fighting for. just one hug.

keigo walked past you without a word and the moment died. you think a piece of you died with it. an important piece. it would remind you of the better times, when you weren’t a wife but a girlfriend. when you were a priority in his life, when you could count on him dropping everything if you needed him. the piece that kept you together, kept you whole was gone and in its place was not emptiness but indifference.

“you’re really not going to say anything?” you didn’t understand why your voice came out so hoarse until you realized it was the first time you’ve used it all day. keigo didn’t pause as you broke the silence, continuing to undress with his back to you.

“‘m tired, songbird. can we do this later?” can’t he feel it? the precipice your relationship is on the edge of, threatening to fall and shatter into a thousand pieces at any moment? it dawns on you, watching him yawn and stretch, shaking out his feathers, that no. he doesn’t.

“keigo.” he turned to face you, blinking at the use of his name. always kei, never keigo. “i think i need a break. ”

he huffed out a confused laugh. “break from what?”

“a break from us.” you never knew silence could be so cold. so cold it left you shivering in its grasp. that’s the only explanation of why you were shaking so hard you had to clench your teeth to stop them from chattering.

“that’s not funny, dove.”

“i’m not joking.”

“why?” it was your turn to laugh, a broken, shrill thing that hurt your ears.

“you can’t think of one reason? one reason i’d have to be unhappy in this relationship?”

“look, i know i’m not around much these days but-“

“days? try months.” you felt nauseous at the sight of him, pale faced and eyes that darted around like a cornered animal looking for an escape. distantly, you realized this was unfair to him. you had ambushed him, gave him no preparation for what was quickly turning into a fight. but the hurt that had been growing inside you, gnarled and twisted with thorns that wrapped around your heart and shredded it with every beat demanded to be heard. you could flood your home with all the pain you housed.

“i’m sorry, songbird but i’m a hero. i work the hours commission tells me to. i can’t be here all day with you and you knew that when we first got together.”

“don’t try to make me sound unreasonable for wanting to spend time with my husband. i’m alone, keigo.”

“i know.”

“no you don’t! i am alone. i don’t have friends cause they all used me to get close to the number two hero. i had to sign a contract that said i wasn’t allowed to tell anyone where we lived. i don’t leave the house cause i’m terrified of someone recognizing me and using me against you. i am alone, keigo. with not even myself for company cause i don’t know who i am anymore outside of being your wife.”

he bowed his head, shoulders shaking though you didn’t know from what, his wings curling in as if to protect himself from your rant. “do you still love me?”

you sighed, your mouth opening and closing trying to think of how best to phrase what you felt towards him, “if i didn’t love you, i wouldn’t be telling you all this. i would’ve just left.”

“then stay. please. we can work through this. i'll be better, i’ll cut my hours. please, y/n. i can’t lose you.”

“i love you, kei. but i don’t think i was ever meant to be your wife.”

he was openly crying now, teary eyes meeting your dry ones. you didn’t know when you’d moved past that stage of grief but you were beyond grateful. it gave you the strength to power through this for the both of you. you owed him at least that kindness.

“that’s all you wanted once.” he whispered.

“the dream was kinder to me than the reality.” the truth of your statement was a punch to the gut. you’d wanted nothing more then to marry him, had daydreamed about it long before he popped the question. it felt like an inevitability. an intrinsic truth. the sky was blue. grass is green. you would be keigo’s wife someday. but love alone wasn’t enough to keep you two afloat. not when you’d been left alone to man a sinking ship. “i’ll take the couch and pack in the morning.”

“no! please if… if this is the last time…”

“it’s not forever, kei. just until i remember who i am outside of these walls.”

“still, can i hold you? please? just for tonight.”

you never could refuse him.

your bodies fit back together as though no time had passed since they’ve last held each other. despite the air still tense with emotion, you felt your body relax in his grasp, conditioned to associating the warmth of his chest against your back with safety. you knew in the morning, you’d wake up happy. the memories from tonight would be slow to trickle back in. but that was a problem for the future. tonight, you would savour the bliss of falling asleep with the person you loved most in the world. and you did love him. loved him so much it hurt. loved him enough to take this step back so he wouldn’t blame himself when he woke up one day and realized his wife had become a shell of herself.

#hawks x reader #hawks imagine #bnha x reader #bnha imagine #keigo imagine #keigo x reader #mha x reader #mha imagine #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo imagines

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awanderingtortoise · 3 years

Text

a/n: first of all, i would like to thank my genius brain for answering the ask this stemmed from privately, therefore losing all access to it and anything i typed in reply. i would also like to thank google docs for housing the backup copy of this fic, ensuring my panic lasted only half the time it could have. finally (and the only serious thing here) ty to @nabrizoya for giving this idea during my 'i cant write banter only dad jokes help' panic, i loved it and wrote far more on it than i expected.

laughter in the rain

ao3

word count: 2.1k of pure fluff and crack

blurb: in which Nikolai is much too found of puns while Zoya is the polar opposite, and a young, incredibly chaotic Squaller child wreaks absolute havoc on literally everything.

(from tumblr ask: how about nikolai interacting with zoya's students and them finding nikolai's dad jokes funnier than zoya does (though she does secretly enjoy them)

----

Zoya knew she was in for it when she agreed to teach Damyen to summon lightning. Possible consequences listed themselves in her head without regard for her anxiety: Getting half her hair burned off. An emergency fire drill, minus the drill, at the Little Palace. Possibly a few roasted pigeons falling from the sky. The ten-year old Squaller was undeniably one of her most gifted students, possessing a striking talent for both the Small Science and utter chaos. Unsurprising, really, considering the child both worshiped Nikolai and had a disposition remarkably close to the latter’s. Zoya’s rant on the young Grisha amused him to no end.

“A miniature me,” Nikolai mused, glancing thoughtfully at Zoya as he sat on the edge of their bed. “And shaping up to be quite the handful.”

“You have no idea,” she grumbled, brushing out a stubborn tangle in her hair, eyes still bleary from her slumber or lack thereof. She’d slept terribly and dreamt her kefta had been on fire. Though she was never much for fortune-tellers or prophetic hogwash, she had an inkling this particular dream would soon be reality. “You could be brothers with how much you have in common. Insubordinate. Endless chatter. Utterly chaotic.”

“Handsome?” Nikolai suggested, inspecting his boots before putting them on. “Charismatic and startlingly intelligent? Really, my dear; you don’t have to be quite so negative.”

“I’m likely about to be set on fire. I have every right to be negative.”

“Now, now,” He said soothingly. “I’m sure it will be a very- enlightening experience.”

Zoya froze mid-brush stroke, turning to give him a withering glare. “Nikolai,” she hissed.

He grinned. “Yes?”

“We have talked about this.”

“Have we?”

“No more puns,” Zoya ordered. For every joke Nikolai in his love for infuriating humor could crack, these were the worst. The only people in the palace that found them amusing were Tolya and Nikolai himself. Which meant, of course, that Tolya was the only one Nikolai didn’t subject to this banal torture.

“Why?” Nikolai whined. “I find them rather electrifying, don’t you?”

She slammed her brush onto the table and stalked towards him, seizing his wrist. “I will blow you out the window. I will tie you to a tree and let Damyen use you for target practice.”

“From the sound of him, he wouldn’t dare. He loves me.”

“He’s also remarkably similar to you and has every ounce of your taste for drama. He might, and if he doesn’t you have my word that I will do it myself.” Zoya let her eyes flash silver, static crackling in the air.

“Alright,” Nikolai sighed, unperturbed by the display. “Fine. I concede. It’s but a trifle. A storm in a teacup, if you w- ow !”

She had sent a small shock through his arm, and now scoffed at the reaction to her handiwork. “Consider this a warning,” she sniffed, before turning to leave the room. “I have a Squaller to teach.”

“Storming off, are we- ow- ”

Only once the door was safely slammed behind her did she let her frown shift, lips quirking upwards. “Damnable idiot,” she muttered, smile clear in her voice.

“You love me for it,” Nikolai called from inside the room.

Zoya scowled. She’d need to have the walls thickened.

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

To Zoya’s right, a flock of very terrified and slightly singed geese squawked and took to the skies. Their nest lay in a steaming pile of ash. She raised a single eyebrow at her pupil. “Damyen, this is-”

“Awesome!” He cackled, gathering the ash in his hands and tossing it in the air like confetti. The flakes drifted down, settling in Zoya’s hair and eyelashes.

“I was going to say dismal. I do not recall asking you to set birds on fire. Your aim is terrible.”

“But I shot lighting!” He stared at his fingertips with such utter reverence for himself that Zoya didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“If you want to shoot lighting without setting your friends alight, I’d suggest you learn to hit your mark,” She said as sternly as possible. He’d picked up on the skill remarkably quickly, in all honesty, and the currents he summoned were more than good for a start. She was impressed, but her approval would only be gained with sufficient effort. And after more than a few sharp comments. “You aim worse than a blind mole rat. Again.”

Damyen sighed but brought his hands together once more, brow knitting in concentration as lightning began to form in his palm. Strands of his bronze hair fell onto his face and he squinted through them at the target. Adjusted his hands. Squinted again.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Zoya muttered. “Perhaps you’re waiting for the Saints to come riding down on a shiny chariot?”

He snorted, apparently genuinely amused, then let the bolt fly. At the same moment, a golden-haired figure strolled into the lightning’s path.

Zoya shrieked, hurtling a gust of wind towards Nikolai and blowing him to the ground. The streak of electricity slammed perfectly into the target’s center, setting the whole thing aflame. Damyen whooped, throwing up his hands and sending wind blowing every which way; scattering leaves into the air as Nikolai groaned and swore from his spot in the grass.

“Hello,” He said weakly. “Atmosphere’s rather charged around here, don’t you think?”

She huffed and pulled him to his feet, glaring daggers.

“No shocks,” Nikolai noted.

“I may change my mind. Care to explain yourself, Lantsov? In the habit of trying to kill yourself?”

“I hardly need to try. I’m a magnet for life threatening situations. Though I’ll admit that today it was a personal decision.” He beamed, spreading his hands. “I simply wanted to help you make good on your threat.”

Zoya rolled her eyes. “Why are you here? Has something come up with the Fjerdans? Did the Kerch renegotiate the trade-”

“Zoya, Zoya, Zoya,” Nikolai sighed, tucking a wayward lock of hair behind her ear. “You worry too much.”

“I worry exactly the right amount for this fickle country. Answer the question, or I truly will have him target you.”

“Is it so hard to believe I came here only to see you?”

“Yes.”

“You wound me. But if you must know, I thought I could be of some assistance.”

“As target practice?”

He wrinkled his nose. “I’ve had quite enough of that. As a mentor. As a bribe, perhaps; for your little firecracker over there.” He glanced at Damyen, still stripping trees of their hard-earned leaves and seemingly unaware that he’d nearly killed his beloved idol. “You seemed like you could use some help.”

She raised her chin disdainfully. “I am perfectly capable of wrangling the little-”

A loud crack sounded and the sky darkened rapidly, clouds swarming over their heads as rain began to pour furiously in a matter of seconds. A few meters away, a bright flash enveloped a tree, sending the trunk bursting into flames.

“Damyen!” Zoya screeched.

The boy stared at her, wide-eyed and grinning in a mix of elation and fear. “I made a storm, Your Highness!”

“Congratulations. Now do you mind stopping before you kill us all?”

“But I-” His eyes found Nikolai and realization set in as he beamed and the rain poured even harder. “Your Highness- es !”

Another boom, and a second, larger tree was wreathed in electricity and fire. It groaned, wobbling dangerously before crashing to the ground.

Nikolai’s brow furrowed, squinting against the pouring rain. “That,” he started. “Was a centuries-old sacred cypress planted by the first Lantsov kings. Now firewood. Impressive.”

Damyen’s chest puffed with pride.

“You can fawn over each other later,” Zoya snapped. “Damyen, enough with the storm. Turn it off before you start a forest fire.”

He grinned sheepishly. “How?”

She muttered obscenities, raising her hands and dispelling the clouds with a flick of her wrists. The sky cleared, small patches of pouring rain left to quell the still-burning trees as Nikolai whistled appreciatively, clapping; and Damyen gave a small bow. Saints, these two would be the death of her.

“So,” Nikolai said, soft enough that Damyen couldn’t hear. “Changed your mind?”

She sighed. “Fine. Make your attempt. You’ve always loved trying your hand at the impossible.”

“Improbable,” he corrected, then strolled over to Damyen, running a hand through the golden strands plastered to his forehead. Soaking wet and almost cooked alive, and he still looked every bit the regal prince; she thought, a grudging, now-familiar fondness rushing through her like a horrible, tooth-rotting sweet. She scowled.

“Lovely morning,” The prince greeted. Damyen bent over in a hasty bow, but Nikolai waved his hand. “No need. Are you the wonderfully gifted Squaller her Highness speaks of so highly?”

Zoya snorted, but Damyen’s eyes practically doubled in size. “She does?”

“Oh, yes,” Nikolai said seriously. “You’re quite talented, I hear.” He lowered his voice to a theatrical whisper. “Just between the two of us,” muttered Nikolai, very much loud enough for Zoya to be able to hear. “I think you remind her of herself, when she was your age.”

She opened her mouth; ‘What utter bullshit,’ already on the tip of her tongue but Nikolai raised a gloved finger, eyes twinkling. With much effort, she clamped her mouth shut.

Damyen seemed he might faint on the spot. Nikolai went on. “Really, there’s quite a lot you two have in common. Powerful. Willful. In possession of a rather strong attachment to me.”

The young Grisha was eating up his words. Zoya wanted to strangle the both of them.

Nikolai took a seat on a faintly smoking tree stump. “You seem to have quite a lot going on for you, learning to summon lighting and all. A rather current affair, don’t you think?”

The silence seemed to stretch on infinitely. Then Damyen gave a toothy grin and guffawed far, far louder than that sorry excuse for a joke deserved.

“Oh for Saints’ sake, Nikolai,” she groaned, shoving her face into her hands.

“Zoya, dear; no need to thunder about like that,” Nikolai said soothingly. Damyen bit his cheek in an attempt to control himself, but whatever smidgen of respect he had left for her kept him silent for barely a second before he burst into a fit of giggles.

Zoya threw her arms up in frustration and from the clouds a deep, deafening roar answered her-- how’s that for thundering, you nincompoop-- as the sky flashed once more, bright streaks lacing every cloud in an intricate web. Damyen’s gleeful expression faltered at the sight but Nikolai only grinned wider, patting Damyen on the shoulder before standing and holding a hand out to catch the rain.

“Don’t let her dampen your spirits,” he called sagely over the rumble, and it took a good amount of self control not to smite him on the spot. Nikolai flashed a thumbs-up at the boy before jogging over to the spot where Zoya stood, arms crossed and glaring. He clasped her hand in his, opening his mouth to speak.

“Not one word,” she warned. “Not a single pun or I will have Tolya read you every Ravkan epic in existence while dangling you off the palace roof.”

“No puns,” he promised. “For now. I only ask that perhaps you let the sun shine through-”

“I will not sugarcoat my instructions for whatever reason.”

“The storm, my dear,” he said gently. “Not your teaching methods. We’re nearly soaked through.”

She glanced towards his dripping sleeves and the damp fabric of her own kefta. “Fine,” Zoya muttered grudgingly, raising her free hand to call away the storm and let the clouds fade to fog. “But enough of this foolery. I can’t have Damyen running around being able to summon lightning and having no idea how to wrangle it. He has to learn.”

“And he will. Let me work my magic and I’ll have him perfectly eager to learn to control his.”

“Without the puns.”

“With slightly less puns?” He asked, brow knit together as if the fate of his jokes were a matter of life and death.

Zoya frowned, but Nikolai’s pleading look wore away at her and she sighed. “Slightly less puns.”

His eyes lit up and he beamed, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. “You won’t regret this,” he promised.

“Oh, I will,” she remarked drily. “But perhaps not enough to shock you again if you can manage the walking fire hazard.”

“As you wish, Your Highness.” He bowed theatrically before turning and running back to Damyen with a ridiculous grin on his face, sunlight gilding his hair and shining in his gaze; his form so full of light that she couldn’t help but smile.

“Nikolai,” she called after him.

He turned, cocking his head. “Nazyalensky? Is everything alright?”

Zoya closed her eyes, sighing deeply. She opened her palm, summoning the smallest thundercloud, letting raindrops pool in her outstretched hand. “Right as rain, Lantsov.”

He laughed, and the sound, golden and unrestrained and bright, was worth every joke she’d ever have to endure.

#zoyalai #i am an idiot #zoya nazyalensky #nikolai lantsov #horrible puns terrible puns #nikolai duology #grishaverse #tortoise tries to write #me

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flooffybits · 3 years

Text

Honey, No

Idol: Dreamcatcher

@oncewingly: Maybe 8th member of dreamcatcher fangirls over someone from Twice making her members jealous?

☕buy me a coffee☕

Gahyeon’s gaze kept shifting from one person to another. The silence of the room was becoming deafening for the girls and one of them wanted to speak up, but couldn’t find the words to say.

Bora’s finger kept tapping against the table almost impatiently as she tried to keep her composure, but the little giggles that often rang in the room was slowly thinning her patience whilst Handong did her best to focus on her food.

Siyeon’s eyes rose as she observed the dancer and Yoohyeon was already pouting in the corner as she picked at her food and Yubin and Minji were just silently eating their own food until Minji looked up and fixed her stare at you when you had yet to lift your eyes off the screen from watching Twice’s latest comeback stage.

“Y/n, would you mind watching after dinner?” She asked with the same smile she typically gives you when asking you to do something and her voice catches your attention before you’re flashing her a smile of your own and putting your phone away. “Sorry, unnie. I got really excited when I saw Jihyo sunbaenim.”

The blush on your face probably further ruined their mood and Bora was practically boring a hole on the area where you had your phone, but soon snapped out of it when you were able to properly take in what was in front of you and pride swelled in her chest as she saw the same bright eyed look you always had when she cooked something for you.

“Oh, wow, did you cook this, unnie?” You question and Gahyeon raised her hand immediately. “I helped!” You giggle at her exclamation before reaching over to pinch her cheek. “And I’m sure you did a great job!” You tell her, the tension finally lifting as the girls began to smile and start messing with each other.

“Unnie, you should try this one. Dongie unnie and I went to buy this a couple days ago and it’s really good.” Yoohyeon said while she offered you some of the kimchi she had and you happily accepted it. “We were actually debating on which one to get. It was on sale and then I told her, why not?” Handong shrugged as you took a bite, your face lighting up as you nodded your head and showed a thumbs up. “It’s amazing! You guys made the right decision getting it.”

Yubin was in the process of getting some more food when she noticed you struggling with the wrap you were making and she silently smiled before reaching over. “Unnie, hold it like this so it doesn’t spill.” She laughed and you furrow your brows while the younger girl adjusted your hold and began to fix the food for you. “But it’s tiny.” You protested, making her and Handong giggle before she finished and helped you close the wrap properly.

“Sometimes I forget that Y/n isn’t Korean. But when it comes to things like these, she can’t even make her own food.” Minji teased as you pouted after eating your food, cheeks puffed up and mouth full, making it impossible for you to retort.

“Ah, that’s so cute!” Siyeon laughed while Gahyeon poked your cheek. Your brows pinched together as you tried swatting their hands away, but found it useless soon after.

And just like many other nights, you and your members spent it the way you knew how - full of laughter and chatter.

You weren’t sure what to think when you arrived at the music show. Of course you had met and even befriended various other artists you came across whenever you had the chance, but nothing compared to when you would be in the same vicinity as the ones you idolized and looked up to.

Jihyo was even more charismatic in person than you had expected.

You were just minding your own business after finishing rehearsals when you had rounded the corner and accidentally bumped into the leader. She seemed just as surprised as you were when she instinctively reached out to grab your shoulders and steady you back on your feet.

“Sorry about that! I wasn’t looking where I was going.” She apologized, making your already wide eyes grow bigger as you waved your hands frantically in front of you. “N-No! That was my fault. I’m so sorry!” You bowed hastily and Dahyun laughed lightly beside her friend before a flash of recognition came to her face when she got a good look at you.

“You’re Y/n! Gahyeon introduced us during the ISAC.” The rapper explained and you smile bashfully, remembering that your maknae had indeed introduced you to her friend. “Yeah, I remember. Gahyeon likes to remind me of how shy I was that time.”

Just then, a mischievous smirk crept up the girl’s face when she glanced at her member. “Gahyeon also tells me that you’re a fan. She told me that you were really hyped up about our comeback.” Jihyo’s face lights up at the mention of you being a fan and you feel your face heat up more than it already was. “You are?”

“I, well, yes. I’m a very big fan of you all and I w-wanted to say you all did well.” You stammer, causing Dahyun’s smirk to widen. “I heard that Jihyo unnie was your bias, too.” Your jaw went slack at the mention and your entire face exploded into a million shades of red whilst the older woman seemed amused by your embarrassment, flattered with being your bias. “Aww! You’re so adorable!” She squealed before giving you a hug.

“Don’t mind Dahyun. She likes to be a tease when she can, but I’ve seen your performance and it was really great! You looked really cool and the song was amazing.” Jihyo complimented and if you could die right there, you wouldn’t mind with how you had gotten both a hug and a compliment from one of your idols.

“Tell you what, if you’re ever free, why don’t you text me and we can hang out? Or if you’re too shy, you can ask your friend to text Dahyun.” Jihyo teased lightly, making you stutter in disbelief before the dark haired woman nodded her head, patting your arm. “That sounds like a plan. I’ll be sure to tell her.”

You could see why they were friends as Dahyun grinned at you. “We have to get going, but we’ll see you later. Fighting!” With one last hug, Jihyo and Dahyun finally bid you goodbye and you were left standing in the hall, staring into space.

“Y/n! There you are! What are you doing out here?” Siyeon’s voice suddenly greeted your ears and you’re broken out of your dazed state before you were looking to your member, face still flushed as you clung to her arm when she was near enough.

The older girl looked confused by your sudden shyness before she put her hand to your forehead. “Yah! Are you sick? Your face is all red.” She said worriedly and you shook your head before tugging at her arm. “I met Jihyo sunbaenim!” You bursts out and Siyeon’s eyes widened slightly at the volume of your voice before you were the one leading her back to your room to prepare.

“Unnie! She was so nice and pretty! Dahyun-ssi was also there and she remembered me because of Gahyeon. I can’t believe she told her about Jihyo sunbaenim being my bias, that was so embarrassing!” You groaned and she could barely understand what you were saying with how fast you were speaking.

As you arrived inside your room, the rest of your members looked over while you kept ranting about your encounter with the two Twice members and Siyeon looked to them for help and Bora was quick to intercept as she called out to you.

Her voice had effectively stolen your attention before she was running to your arms. Her face nestled into the crook of your neck and smiled as she relaxed in your arms and the comforting feeling made you momentarily forget about your earlier encounter with the two other idols.

“What’s got you all chatty?” Minji giggled, noting your entrance and you beamed while squeezing the woman in your arms. “I met Jihyo sunbae earlier and she asked me to hang out!” You exclaim, causing all of your members to look oddly at you.

Bora had pulled away to look at your face before turning to Siyeon, who shrugged in response. “Dahyun-ssi said she would contact Gahyeon and ask about when we could and I’m just so excited!”

Yubin pursed her lips together at your rant. While she was friends with Jihyo, she had to admit that hearing you go on and on about someone that wasn’t anyone from the group made all of them a bit insecure.

Were you getting tired of them?

The pout on Gahyeon’s face told you that there was something wrong, along with the silence in the room. “Did I... miss something?” You ask confusedly and Handong smiles at your cluelessness before she rested her chin against her hand.

“I know you’re not doing it on purpose, but I think I speak for all of us when I say that we’re a bit self conscious of how you constantly talk about Twice or Jihyo sunbae in general.” She explains and Yoohyeon quickly spoke when she saw the look on your face. “It isn’t a bad thing! It’s cute that you admire her a lot, it’s just... we want your attention, too.”

“You’ve been on your phone a lot and once you start to actually hang out, we’re kinda scared that you might like hanging out with them more than with us.” Minji sighed as she ran her fingers through her hair. “You’ve been ignoring us a lot lately, we just thought that maybe you were getting tired of the group.” Bora added, making your expression soften when you look at all of their saddened faces.

You didn’t think that they would feel this way. With how much you spent with each other, you didn’t think that they would be bothered if you hung out with other people more. In fact, you thought that maybe they needed a break from you.

“I would never get tired of any of you.” You tell them with a small smile. “I love you girls and I would give nothing more than to have you all with me until the end.” You reach for Siyeon’s hand while the other arm wraps around Bora’s shoulders again.

“I guess we were kinda worried for nothing.” Yubin chuckled when she checked the time and you nod your head in agreement. “There’s no reason for any of you to be jealous! I could just spend a day with my idol, but I’m always going to be with Dreamcatcher whatever the time and wherever the place.”

After finally having the assurance that they all needed, all worries seemed to disappear and each of the girls were relieved to know that you would be sticking around and their doubt had only gotten the best of them. But of course that wouldn’t erase the lingering jealousy whenever you fangirled over your idols the way you did.

“Can I still hang out with Twice?”

“Not unless one of us comes along.”

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kattwritesuwu · 3 years

Note

Can I request a Clingy!monsterTom x Depressed!Reader? Maybe with cutting and suicidal thoughts?

I sure can!!! I LOVE angst!!!!!

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Fandom: Eddsworld

Character: Tom

Reader: Depressed

Fic type: Comfort/angst

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING: This WILL heavily mention suic/de, blood, and perhaps other triggering topics, read at your own risk!!

Notes: People, I'm not trying to make depression and similar illness romantic, this is simply for comfort.

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I hate everything.

Well, not everything, but the majority, y'know? Everything just...sucks. Life in general, it's all terrible.

People are terrible. Sure, I've found a few choice people that aren't the bane of my existence, but even they have their flaws.

Am I saying that I'm some heaven sent angel? Hell no I'm not. I'm just as terrible if not more! I hate everyone, including myself.

Am I lying? Yeah. Do I have a crush on someone? Yeah. Am I gonna do something about it? Nope.

Why should I? It's not like I'll be here longer anyways...

I'm planning to kill myself.

Am I scared? Kind of. But at this point I don't care. I'm always scared anyways. Always on my guard around people.

Most people don't know the fear and pain of constantly feeling...numb.

It's not like I never feel anything, it's just so rare. My most common emotion is pain. I just want to curl up in a ball and die. But all I can ever being myself to do is cry, and even that's a rare occurrence at this point.

I feel so alone.

Friends? Yeah I have a few.... they're all a bit odd in their own way. Can't complain though, they're like family to me.

My real family? Not many immediate ones, plus, I moved to England five years ago. They called me everyday for the first couple of months. Nowadays, I can barely get a text back... I get that they have their own lives in their respective country, but man, it just makes me so cold-feeling...

I guess where I was going with this, is that I'm scared. Not of my inevitable death, but everything else.

I'm scared of anything and everything now that I think about it. I don't exactly mean common fears they talk about in elementary school, I'm talking real world problems.

I'm scared of failure, not sure why. I've failed enough in my life....it shouldn't even faze me at this point.

Im especially scared of people.

My friends? Yeah them too. What if I make a fool of myself and they think I'm an idiot? What if I make the wrong move, and they hate me? They probably hate me enough as it is...

That why I won't confess to Tom. He'll hate me afterwards. There's just no point in ruining something for nothing in return.

These were the thoughts that ran through my head as my arms and legs were sliced up by a blade driven by my own hands. It's wasn't like it hurt. All it really did was sting, I'm just that used to being hurt, I suppose.

As I was wrapping up my little 'session' I heard a knock on my door,

"(Y/N)! You in there? It's dinner time! I made breakfast for dinner!" A British accent leaked through my door.

I didn't scramble around at the thought of him walking in, my door was locked after all. It's not like I'm that stupid.

" I'll be there in a few minutes, Edd." I spoke back in a raspy voice, not bothering to yell. Edd has good ears, he can somehow hear a whisper from across the house.

It takes me a minute or two to get up and walk into the bathroom that connects to my room. I stumble a bit with the loss of blood.

Once I get in there I take a quick shower, just barely long enough to stop the bleeding and make it appear as if you just took an actual shower.

Once I get out of the shower, I slip on my (favorite color) hoodie.

That was an easy part of hiding my self abuse. Everyone in the house wore a hoodie of their own designated color.

I also slipped on a longer article of clothing to go onto my legs. Couldn't let them see my thighs either.

Once I finished the rest of my cleaning up, I headed out of my little bathroom, and in front of my door. I took a deep breath, put on a smile, and walked out.

I got about halfway down the stairs before a screech startled me, causing me to trip a bit,

" (Y/N) IS HERE! YAY!" The high pitch British scream could only belong to the narcissistic ginger known as Matt.

Once I got my balance back into my feet, I continued down the stairs and greeted Matt with a wave.

" Yeah she lives here, idiot. She's not going anywhere." A deeper voice had spoken, I turned around and Tom was there as expected. I smile shrunk a bit at his last comment.

" Sup (y/n)." You snapped out of your thoughts and responded with a casual 'yo.'

The three of us then heard a thick accent cursing in the kitchen, no doubt it was Tord,

" For jævla skyld! Just let me have the last piece!!"

Sure enough, when we walked into the kitchen, Edd and Tord were fighting over the last piece of bacon. I let out a sigh, and the two boys finally acknowledged our existence. That alone didn't stop their argument though.

I didn't even bother attempting to break up the fight, I never could anyways. Their little fuss always ends one of two ways. Edd steals the bacon from under Tord's nose, or vise versa.

I just grabbed a small portion of food, and sat down.

I knew I would be gone by the end of tonight...but I wanted to taste Edd's cooking one last time.

Something interesting happened, instead of one of the two boys getting the bacon, they halved it and sat down. Of all my four years living in this house with these people, they've never shared their bacon.

Strange.

Dinner wasn't as talkative as it usually was when we all ate at the table. Usually we'd all have a big group discussion about our day, or week. Tonight was quiet, giving me an opportunity,

" Hey, guys?" Each one of their heads turned to me, and Edd signalled me to continue,

" I just wanted to say, thank you." Their brows furrowed but I held out a hand to tell them to let me finish,

" You four have helped me with so much over the past few years. From when you let me live here when I couldn't find proper housing situations, to letting me borrow the car. I just wanted to formally tell you all how grateful I really am. You are truly the kindest people I've ever met." As I went on talking, I realized how bad of an idea this actually was.

I mean, will they get suspicious? I'm just showing gratitude right? It shouldn't sound like a cry for help or anything...

As I snapped out of thought for the fiftieth time today, I notice that all of the boys have some type of smile on their face, even Tom!

Edd was smiling like a proud mother,

Matt was smiling giddily,

Tord had a smug, 'cool guy' smile,

And Tom had the smallest smile that made my heart melt.

I awkwardly continued my fake smile, and sat down.

Conversation continued on as would on a normal night, with the topic being past pleasant memories.

I volunteered to wash the dishes, it was the least I could do. There was only one problem. For some ungodly reason, Tom had insisted on helping me.

I couldn't figure out why at first, untill it dawned on me that he probably needed something from me.

So as I scrubbed the forgetten food off of the ceramic plate, he rinsed and dried them. We did this in silence, aside from the running water. Tom's the first one to break the tension filled silence,

" So, how have you been?" It was such a simple question, I could have simply faked a toothy grin, and said that I was great. I could have thanked him for asking. I could have asked him back.

But I only did one of those things.

" I've been doing just as good as I always do." I reply with a small sad smile. I tear my eyes away from the dish water," How about you? You've been awfully quiet tonight."

He chuckles lowly," Just had a lot on my mind, trying to face some of my problems, that's all." I stop what I'm doing and look over at him,

" Do you want to talk about it? I think the others are asleep already."

Normally when Tom is having any type of problem, he comes to me for advice, or even just for someone to listen to him rant when he's drunk. I even gave him a spare key to my room if he ever needs me while I'm asleep. He's offered the same for me, but I told him that I have a counselor. I try not to lie to my housemates all the time, only when necessary.

He simply shakes his head in response," Nah, this is one I have to deal with on my own," I sigh,

" Alright then, but keep my offer in mind. Just try to remember to see me before I go to bed, I'm...going to bed early tonight. I have something to do tommorow." He nods in understanding.

After we finish the dishes, we say our goodnights,

" I'll see you in the morning, (y/n)." I give one last fake smile,

" Same to you, Tom. Sleep well." I see him nod and walk down the hall as I close my door and lock it for the final time.

I walk into my bathroom and look into the mirror. All I see is a monstrosity of a person glaring back at me.

The bags under my eyes had only gotten worse after the sleepless nights I spent writing my suicide note.

I decided to skip reading over it one last time, I want nothing that could alter my decision at hand here. If I read my dying love letter that's written to Tom, I might stop myself in some kind of silly hope that everything could be okay again. It was too late for all that now.

So, I grabbed my blade that had served me well over the years, and stepped into the bathtub. I didn't cry, I didn't shake in fear of what I was about to do. I sadly smiled instead. As I took my hoodie off, revealing a tank top that no one knew I owned. I set my hoodie softly onto the floor, and turned on the hot water.

I took a deep breath in, and sigh, grabbing my blade and getting to work on my first artery. It took me a couple tries to find it.

But once I did, it started the red tint in the once clear bath water. I took in a shaky breath, adjusting to the dizziness of loosing so much blood so quickly.

At this point I couldn't even hear the bathwater running, everything was muffled.

I reached to turn it off, and a hand was placed onto mine. It takes me a good second to register that there was someone next to the tub, yelling my name right next to my face.

I try my best to focus on who could have caught me. Yet it's so difficult to take in my surroundings at this point.

So as I stare at the person beside my bathtub with fading eyes. I feel pressure on my wound, and see something being wrapped around it.

I start panicking, trying to say no, to let me die.

But I just can't. I just watch as my life is saved against my will.

Suddenly I can see that I'm moving, I can't figure out how until I notice the arms carrying me bridal style to a soft surface. That's when I lost consciousness for the next hour.

I didn't exactly 'wake up' more like fazed into existence. It's like I just gradually became aware of what was around me.

I became aware of the sobs coming from my bedside, and of the pressure squeezing my hand.

I forced my eyes open and tried to sit up. Yet I instantly regretted my decision, pain shot throughout my body. I glance over to my hand and up the....purple arm....

Who is this? Or perhaps I should say, what is this?

It's some kind of...monster? Hybrid? It looked kind of human... I could only see the torso and up. Even then, the arms grew bigger the farther down the arms stretched, and turned a deeper and deeper shade of purple. Horns poked out of the head laying slightly onto my shin, poking me a bit.

" Am-" I hold my throat. That hurt. I clear my throat of the mucus and start again as the unknown monster wakes up,

" Am I dead?"

The monsters head shoots up, and I can't help but recognize the 'eyes' that I've grown to love.

" T-Tom..."

He tries to smile for me, but it twists into a sad frown as his black orbs start to water,

" (Y/n)....(y/n) you're...y-you're okay! You're okay..." He said this over and over again as he cupped my cheeks with his transformed hands.

I grab onto his forearm to steady his shaking. This was starting to scare me.

I had never seen this man shed a tear in front of me, yet alone bawl into my shoulder like he was doing now,

" Tom, it's okay, I'm right here." I whispered this, and many other reassurances into his ear. Confirming to him that it was going to be okay and that, to my displeasure, I wasn't going anywhere.

He seemed to get angry after a few minutes, he ripped himself away from me and took hold of my shoulders,

" WHAT IF YOU WEREN'T RIGHT HERE? WHAT IF I HADN'T OF WALKED IN!! WHAT THEN HUH? YOU WOULDN'T BE RIGHT HERE!!! YOU'D BE GONE!! I would have...lost you..." He slid down the side of my bed as he finished his outburst. He sat crying into his knees.

I didn't know what to do. Is he mad at me? But despite the questions, I acted without thinking.

I began to run my fingers through his hair, almost brushing it. He seemed surprised at first, before he leaned into my touch.

" I'm sorry Tom. I didn't think it would effect you like this..." All was silent for a few moments. Until,

" Why..?" He sniffled a few times before I could respond.

" Why? Why what?" He looked up to me,

" Why would you try to leave me?" I couldn't even bring myself to say anything after that. Tom seemed to sense the frog in my throat, and continued,

" You don't realize, (y/n). You don't realize how special you are. To your family, your friends. I mean bloody hell (y/n)! What about us?! Edd would be heartbroken! And how are we supposed to explain something like that to Matt?" I avoided the possible eye contact and twidled my thumbs in my lap,

" What about me (y/n)? How am I supposed to go on living with myself if you, the love of my life, killed herself?" My mind went blank. He took my hand in between both of his,

" I know this isn't the greatest time for this, but if it'll boost your self esteem even a little bit, I don't care about embarrassing myself. (Y/n) (L/n), I am deeply in love with you, and have been since you moved in. I've loved you since you helped me to bed when I came in drunk all those years ago. I've loved you since you beat my Pac-Man score at the arcade, I acted so mad, but you were just so cute so excited like that... (Y/n)... Please let me help you love yourself by loving you..."

By the time he was done with his speech, I was in tears, a small frown on my face. He seemed to get the wrong idea as he instantly dropped my hand and got up,

" I got the message, I'll just uhm... I'll just g-" I grabbed his hoodie strings and pulled him in for a kiss.

We could both tell that there would be many more to come.

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I'm sorry if it's extremely long, I just love to write angst haha...

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