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izzy-b-hands · 2 years

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Stede’s kids, aka two little shits lol, come looking for him. On their own. In a dinghy.

They truly are his children.

I guessed on their ages, so put them about idk, like 8 or 9, maybe 10 at the oldest for Alma and maybe five or six for Louis, somewhere about there. I may be wrong or off but I’m winging it for now until I find anything definitive re: how old they are in show canon lol.

A note, I did combine some historical stuff for Stede here. Mainly his first son, named Allamby, who had died by 1715 per Wikipedia.

TW for descriptions of child death re: Allamby (made up, because I couldn’t find much to give an exact cause of death, so I just rolled with it.)

I stared at this all day and I think I caught any accidentally a words or major fuck ups, but if I missed something pls let me know and I’ll fix it ASAP dsklfjaskl. Also, if any additional trigger tags are wanted that I missed, let me know and I’ll add them them right away!

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“Another letter from the kids,” Ed said as he handed the envelope to Stede. “I’ll bet they still want to come out with us.”

“And I’ve told them their mother will not allow that at this time, understandably,” Stede chuckled. “But we’ll remind them.”

He opened the letter and started to read. “Oh.”

“Oh?”

Stede nodded and handed the letter back, moving to sit on a nearby barrel. He’d expected some whining that he hadn’t come back for a bit, or to allow them to sail with him for at least a week or two (Mary wasn’t entirely against it; she simply wanted them to be older before they did so, and that no raid would take place while they were aboard. Sensible requirements that Stede agreed with wholeheartedly.)

He hadn’t expected this.

“They’re looking for us?” Ed said, shocked. “They aren’t old enough for that. Are they?”

“How old were you when you left to be a pirate?”

“Sixteen, or about there,” Ed replied. “How old are yours again?”

“Not that,” Stede laughed nervously. “Oh god.”

“No, don’t panic,” Ed said. “After all, they’re your kids. Smart, good head on their shoulders.”

“And a proclivity to make rash, potentially dangerous and/or poor decisions?”

Ed paused. “Well. Yeah, that too.”

“Should we head their way and see if we can’t find them?” Stede asked. In his head, all he could see were two panicked children aboard a dinghy, in rough seas, potentially about to drown or starve if they somehow survived it-

“You’re picking at the thread on your jacket,” Ed interrupted the stream of potential catastrophes. “Take a breath.”

“I will, when we find them.”

“What else did the letter say?” Olu asked.

“They’ve bought their own provisions, weapons-” Ed read, then paused to laugh. “That’s wonderful! Not even my kids and I’m proud of them. Wonder what they picked up for that, because-”

“Ed,” Stede interrupted. “They likely stole money from their mother, oh god I hadn’t considered that yet. Forget being hung for piracy, Mary’s going to kill me first.”

“No one is getting hung for being a pirate, and I’m sure Mary will...” Ed hesitated. “You know, if we all go ashore, you’ll have a head start.”

“I think I need to lie down.”

“Children are much more resilient than you think,” Izzy offered. “They’re probably perfectly fine.”

“Or dead,” Stede chuckled. “I’ll make myself walk the plank if that’s the case!”

“I don’t think anyone actually does that,” Pete frowned.

“What, make someone walk the plank?” Lucius asked. “Or let their kids die at sea?”

Stede whimpered, and Ed wrapped an arm around his waist.

“Let’s not say dead unless we should find them that way,” Ed said. “And no, walking the plank really isn’t a thing. Sorry, love.”

“Right,” Stede nodded. “Then you can tie the anchor to me and drop me overboard! Maybe let Mary do it, that would only be right. And any loot could go towards funerals-”

He let himself drop out of Ed’s grip to sit on the deck, staring into space. He didn’t exactly want to take back all the years of playing pirate, but at the same time, maybe they wouldn’t have come looking for him if he hadn’t done so.

Ed peered down. “So, we’re going to take the lead on this, and I’m going to help Stede to bed. Sound good, Stede?”

He managed a nod, and didn’t fight when Ed and Izzy helped him up and more or less dragged him to their quarters.

“Try to rest, and think of something else,” Ed said as they dropped him into bed. “Read a book, distract yourself.”

He went to the shelves, and pulled out a book on the designing of children’s funerals, and dealing with grief.

Ed frowned. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Come on,” Izzy whispered. “Sooner we find them, sooner he’ll either be alright, or we’ll lock him in here so he doesn’t jump overboard.”

“Do we know what they look like?” Roach asked.

“No,” Ed replied.

“Names?”

“Alma and Louis,” Ed said.

“Anything else?”

Ed looked back to the letter. “Alma has very nice handwriting?”

The crew groaned collectively.

“None of that,” Izzy scolded. “That isn’t helping.”

“More information would be helpful too,” Frenchie said. “What do we look for otherwise?”

“It’s two kids in a boat, probably just out there floating!” Jim shouted. “The fuck else do you think we need to look for?”

“Whoa, okay,” Olu took Jim’s hand. “Good point though, there can’t be that many younger kids out for a jaunt on the sea without any parents or someone to keep an eye on them.”

Frenchie raised his hand.

“Yup,” Ed nodded. “Go on.”

“Does their mum know they’re gone?”

Silence.

Izzy opened his mouth, then shut it and looked to Ed for direction.

“Possibly,” Ed finally said. “They didn’t say in the letter.”

“So in other words, their mum and her boyfriend might also be out there?”

Ed pondered it in a silent panic. “Yeah. Yeah, they might be.”

“Actually then, we’re looking for four people,” Frenchie said. “Good to know. Really hope we don’t accidentally find them by running over their dinghies.”

“I know we’re all probably a little scared for all of them,” Olu said. “But we need to keep our shit together. Stede’s lost his enough for all of us, frankly.”

“They are his kids,” Ed said sharply. “Though I wonder about the oldest one. Why didn’t he go with?”

“Isn’t the daughter the oldest?” Olu asked.

“Thought so, but before he came back I went snooping through his things,” Ed said. “And there’s a mention of a son, Allamby. He’s the first kid listed on anything that mentioned his family.”

“Could be he’s old enough that he didn’t want to go,” Roach offered.

“Then why not stop the other two?” Frenchie asked. “They’d tell an older sibling at least before they left. I would, were it me. Brother won’t necessarily yell at you about it, even if he doesn’t like it, and he could have been the one to give them money too.”

“We’re wasting time,” Wee John said. “Let’s get to actually looking for them, and then we can ask them about all of this.”

“Capital idea,” Ed declared. “All hands then, let’s get the show on the road.”

“At least we know they’ll be dressed fancy, if they’re that much like Stede,” Frenchie murmured to Wee John. “Could spot a bright silk from a mile away.”

The first three days were fruitless. Stede ate when food was brought to him, drank when water was presented. At night, he walked the deck while the others slept, no matter how much Ed protested. He argued that he slept enough during the days to distract himself from the worst possibilities, the least he could was take the night watch to see if they might be spotted then.

On day four, Ed joined him.

“Can I ask you something?”

Stede nodded, still looking out into the dark at the far end of the deck. The sea was calm, and the moon bright. Perfect conditions to find one’s missing children.

“Why didn’t their older brother go with?”

Stede turned. “Alma is our oldest.”

“Who is Allamby then? I may have peeked at some of your stuff before you came back, and-”

Stede shook his head. “I sort of wish you hadn’t.”

“I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have,” Ed said, and took Stede’s hand, reassured when he grasped back tightly. “I won’t again, not without your permission.”

“No, it isn’t the biggest deal in the world,” Stede sighed. “Allamby was our actual first. But he passed a few years ago.”

“When?”

Stede sighed again. “1715.”

“That’s only two years ago,” Ed scoffed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“He’s gone and buried,” Stede replied. “What would there be to tell?”

“I’d imagine a lot,” Ed said softly. “How old was he?”

“Five,” Stede said, with another squeeze of Ed’s hand. “Very sweet. Liked picking flowers with me, to bring home to Mary. Wanted to study flowers, actually. Told me how he’d like to discover new ones, and he could name them after all of us.”

“Ambitious,” Ed laughed. “All that at five?”

“He had a plan for almost all of it,” Stede chuckled. “Didn’t really have any idea of how he’d make money to live of course, but truthfully I would have happily paid his way until he was on his feet. And even then, if ever he needed anything, all he would have had to do was ask.”

“What about playing pirate?”

Stede grinned, and finally turned to face Ed. “He loved it. Insisted we go down to the beach to play, the house wasn’t where a pirate would live! We’d walk down and he’d talk about everything involved with it: what weapons he’d use, what he’d most like to have as loot, even how he’d decorate his ship.”

“Flowers?”

“Lots of them. Painted on the walls, on the hull. Didn’t mind that it would mean repainting often. It was a worthy effort to him.”

He leaned into Ed, and Ed slipped his hand from Stede’s to wrap it around his waist instead.

“What happened? If you don’t mind my asking.”

Stede again looked to the sea. It was empty as it had been before.

“We don’t really know. He went to bed as usual, after two extra bedtime stories no less, and the next morning,” Stede’s voice caught in his throat. “He didn’t wake up. We thought he was having a lie in, since he did on occasion. Gave him an extra half hour to sleep or play in his room, whatever he was up to. Then Mary asked that I go up and bring him down for a late breakfast.”

Ed reached with his free hand to wipe a tear off Stede’s cheek as it fell. “Stede, if you want to stop-”

“No, he deserves to be known about,” Stede choked. “After we chose to not tell Alma or Louis about him, at least for now. That leaves only me and Mary and our parents, but they never did like him much. Too much like me, I suppose.”

He took a deep shaking breath. “I went up to get him. And it seemed awfully quiet, but he could sleep deeply. He’d played hard the day before too, all day at the beach, being the best pirate he could be!”

Stede smiled. “He would have loved it out here. I’m sure of it. Not that Mary would have wanted him out here either, but maybe when he was older, she would have...well. I suppose that doesn’t matter now.”

Ed nodded and tried to hold him tighter.

“I just thought he was sleeping deeply again,” Stede said. “He looked fine. Out cold, but fine. No blue in his lips, no gray on his skin. Not at that point, at least. But I couldn’t rouse him.”

Ed didn’t say a word, and waited for Stede.

“It was ridiculous, sitting on his bed, trying to shake him awake. Even went and got a glass of water and poured it over him, the poor thing!” Stede was openly crying now. His eyes hadn’t left the glassy water that surrounded them. “How he would have shouted any other morning if I’d done that! And it would have been deserved!”

Stede wiped away his tears, but they fell as fast as he could remove them. “Felt his forehead, expected a fever. He was cold.”

There was no wind, and the night was cool but not enough to chill. Stede shivered nonetheless.

“I picked him up and ran downstairs and called for Mary and to send for the doctor, or whoever could come by quickest that had any knowledge that might help,” Stede continued. “She knew before I did. Accepted it before I did, more like. She’d warned me before we tried for children, that there was always risk. They could die in childbirth and take her with them. Could have a horrid accident. Could be sick enough to die. Could simply die while in their cot, as a baby.”

He took a gasping breath. “But not at that age. Far too old to be a cot death. But it didn’t matter. Mary waited for the doctor at the door, and I stayed with him. Held him until the doctor made me let go.”

“And Mary?”

“Devastated as I was, but she didn’t fall apart like me until the burial. I think it really hit then. We spent days in the house, not eating, not sleeping. We talked once about what if we went to his grave and checked. Maybe he was really alright, and what if we’d buried him alive?! He’d be scared and want us and he’d think we had abandoned him.”

Ed gently prompted him to walk, to try and get him to their quarters or anywhere that he couldn’t watch the waves. At least for a few moments.

But Stede didn’t move an inch. “We nearly did it, too. Mary borrowed some of my old things, so she could move more easily. We were at the door, shovels in hand, and then we realized what we were doing.”

He sobbed. “And it would be pointless. He’d be as pale and lifeless as he’d been at his wake, in his coffin.”

It was by some grace that Izzy came out of his room, headed for the galley. At seeing them, he changed direction and strode over.

“Did we find them?” he asked Ed in a whisper.

“No,” Ed whispered back. “Could you help me get him to our quarters? I can take over the rest of the night watch.”

“You stay with him,” Izzy said. “I can do it. It’ll be nearly light before we know it anyway.”

With a bit more prompting and gentle pulling, they got Stede to walk away from the rail of the deck.

“Got something!” Frenchie called from the crow’s nest. “Small vessel, not close enough to see all who’s in it though!”

“Dinghy is ready,” Izzy said as he jogged past Ed towards it. “Roach?”

“On my way,” Roach hustled up behind him, kit of medicines and bandages and everything else in one hand. In the other was a small bag. “Got sandwiches and some jars of water in here. No offense to them, but I can’t imagine kids can estimate how much they’d need...”

“We fuck that up often enough ourselves,” Ed said. “And we’re old enough to know better.”

“And yet,” Izzy sighed, but it had no teeth behind it.

Ed tried to get a better look at the dinghy as they slowly made their approach. “I still can’t tell...looks empty.”

As they made their way beside it, he saw he was right. Still a jug of water and a basket of oranges, set by two daggers. But otherwise, empty.

“Fuck,” Izzy said softly. “Maybe they abandoned it and went ashore somewhere?”

“Why would they leave their supplies?” Roach asked.

Before any one of them could speculate, there was a ripple in the water.

Ed felt a hand grasp his at the edge of the dinghy.

Then, a face. “Oh shit! Louis, come back up!”

They watched as Alma dove back underwater and brought Louis up, a fish in his hands. “I caught one! Can we really stop somewhere to cook it and eat it? Can we go now?”

“No!” Alma looked over fearfully to them as she pushed Louis into their dinghy. “We don’t have anything you’d want! We’re looking for our dad, and he’s a pirate! Most fearsome to sail the sea, so if you’re planning to rob or kill us...”

She paused, clearly out of breath from swimming and panic. “Well, I would reconsider it!”

Izzy smiled, then broke into laughter. “Yeah, these are his. Fucking fuck, Bonnet.”

“You know him!” Alma pulled herself into their vessel, and moved her wet hair out of her eyes. “Where is he?”

“We sail with him,” Ed replied. “And he’s been a mess looking for you two, after he got your letter.”

“Told you he’d meet us halfway,” Louis said. “I told you!”

“Oh shut up,” Alma sighed. “Sorry about him, but he’s always like this, I should warn you-”

“I’m not like anything! I’m being polite and I was even going to offer to share my fish with them!”

“How about we tow you back with us, and then we’ll see about the fish,” Roach smiled. “I’m our chef and surgeon, so maybe you could help me cook it.”

Louis grinned, and set the dead fish on the bottom of the boat to hand over the rope tied to the dinghy.

“Curious,” Ed said as they started the trip back. “Did you two steal this?”

“Of course we did,” Alma scoffed. “We’re pirates.”

Izzy was still having giggle fits, even as he rowed. “Yes, yes you are.”

“Dad, ow. Dad! Help!” Louis cried out as Stede picked him up in a bear hug.

“Okay, let’s not suffocate him, metaphorically or literally,” Lucius said as he rushed over. “Hi! Your dad really missed you.”

“I can tell,” Louis said, voice muffled with his face jammed into Stede’s silk waistcoat.

“I was so worried about you,” Stede said as he finally set poor Louis down. “Did you tell your mother that you left?”

“I left her a note,” Alma said, then backed up as Stede moved for her. “Dad, I’m too big to pick up, Dad!”

He did all the same. “And look at you! Sailing in that dress! How on earth did you manage that?”

“You get used to it,” Alma said. “You’re squishing my lungs, I think.”

“Sorry,” Stede set her back on her feet. “I just. I thought you two were dead, and I had no idea how I’d tell your mother or what I’d do; it isn’t as if I’m likely to have any more children and...”

“Dad, you don’t have to cry,” Alma said, but she wrapped her arms around him and nestled her head into his neck.

“I’m hungry,” Louis said. “Mr. Roach, can we go cook my fish?”

“Yeah buddy, we can,” Roach replied. “Ed, if Stede’s looking for him-”

“I’ll let him know,” Ed interrupted gently, brushing away a tear of his own. “Let us know when dinner’s ready, hm?”

“Of course.”

The rest of the crew kept on with their various chores, but all of them stayed on the main deck, watching Stede lead Alma around to show her the ship. In return, she told him how they’d left, stolen their boat, how she’d been saving her allowance to buy everything from their food to their daggers.

No one interrupted directly, but there were smiles and soft giggles all around.

Ed was the only one following after them, listening in and silently cheering at Alma’s resourcefulness. Of all the Bonnets, she seemed the one who might not need any teaching about piracy. Maybe too young, but well prepared for it all the same.

“I am...” Stede sighed happily. “Your mother wouldn’t like to hear this, but I am so proud of you both. What you did was very dangerous-”

“You’ve said that like a hundred times already,” Alma interrupted.

“I know, I know, but I’m your dad. I have to say things like that, so you’re more careful in the future.”

Alma rolled her eyes, but smiled. “Fine, then we’ll board and steal a bigger ship next time.”

“Next time!”

“That or you come back and let us come with now and then,” she said with a little happy hop.

“While that would be a lovely achievement, I think it better I arrange with your mum something that would let you two come out and sail a bit,” Stede said. “If my co-captain is agreeable to it.”

He peered back to Ed with a hopeful smile.

“Absolutely! Say, how good are you two with those daggers?”

Alma blushed. “We aren’t. We didn’t get to practice before we left, and we’ve only used fake swords before.”

“Then I say we get you some lessons on knives with Jim before we take you two home,” Ed said.

“Which is Jim?”

He pointed out Jim, currently winning a knife-throwing contest against Frenchie and Wee John, with the Swede keeping score.

“Whoa,” Alma breathed out as Jim made their best throw yet. “Can I learn how to do that?”

“Jim can teach you that, and I’ll teach you how to take out an eyeball with a dagger, how about that?”

Her eyes shone. “Really?”

He looked to Stede, who chuckled. “I suppose. Better earlier than later, if you’re really going to be a pirate.”

She cheered and rushed away to Jim. They watched her tug on Jim’s coat, mouth moving a mile a minute as she pointed to Jim’s knife.

Jim looked back to them, seemingly waiting for permission.

Stede gave them a nod, and immediately Jim knelt down and handed Alma their knife, showing her how to hold it before tossing it.

“Think Mary’s still going to kill you?” Ed asked.

“Maybe not. Once we bring them back and work something out properly, and I’m sure they’ll need to promise not to run off on their own again. She might show mercy on me then.”

Stede leaned into him, arm at his waist, and they watched the rest of the knife throwing lesson in a contented silence.

“Roach said I did the best job he’s ever seen,” Louis told Stede proudly as they sat down to dinner. His fish was too small to share with everyone, but a portion were on his and Alma’s plates. “I bet I could learn how to be a ship’s chef from him.”

“He’s our surgeon too,” Stede said. “That means learning about bodies and blood and guts!”

Louis grinned. “Cool.”

“They get that from Mary,” Stede told Ed, sitting a spot away from him beside Alma. “She’s got an iron stomach.”

“You’re getting better with that,” Ed said. “Sometimes you just need to be around it more to get used to it.”

“Jim taught me how to throw a knife,” Alma leaned past Stede to Louis. “And Ed’s gonna teach me how to take out an eyeball!”

“Ew,” Louis giggled. “Can I learn too?”

Ed smiled warmly. “Stede, I love them. They’re awesome. I had never really thought about kids-”

“Is Ed like our stepdad like Doug?” Louis interrupted.

Stede looked to Ed with a chuckle. “Well, Doug said you two sort of decided if he was or not. What do you think about Ed?”

“Makes sense he would be,” Alma replied. “Cause Doug teaches us how to paint, and now Ed’s gonna be teaching us stuff too. Plus he’s dating you.”

They both blinked. They’d not so much as kissed in front of them yet.

“How do you know that?” Stede asked.

“I have eyes,” Alma said. “And you two act the way Mum and Doug do. You make eyes at each other.”

“I suppose we do,” Stede blushed.

“You’re literally doing it right now,” Alma said, and looked across the table to Jim. “Do they do this all the time?”

“Yes,” came a chorus of voices.

“We aren’t that bad,” Ed said.

“I bet they kiss like all the time,” Louis said.

“They do,” Izzy stage-whispered from his spot by Jim. “And hold hands, and-”

Alma and Louis broke into giggles, cutting him off.

“Alright, we have a decent feast tonight!” Roach announced as he finished setting down the last dish, covered by a high metal dome. “Hard tack, a stew that I think finally everyone will like, and-”

He lifted the dome off the dish. “Thanks to Alma and Louis, we had more than enough oranges for a cake!”

Louis turned to Stede, mouth open to speak.

“One piece for tonight,” Stede said before he could get out a word.

“Okay, but-”

“Stew first, then cake. It’ll taste better that way.”

Louis nodded. “And my fish before the stew!”

“Of course,” Stede said.

Dishes were passed from hand to hand, until plates were full. Everyone dug in, but Stede took the opportunity to take it all in.

Maybe, now and again, he could have both. His family at sea, and some of his family on land, together.

If he saved some cake for Mary, she’d be potentially more likely to say yes, and he made a mental note to set enough aside for her and Doug.

And maybe one extra piece, for Alma and Louis to share before bed.

#text post #ofmd fic #aka the fic of stede holy shit control ur mini pirates lmao #tho if I ever write a follow up to this mary is probably gonna be pissed but also like I should have expected this djslkafjsal #fkn kids man #on the plus side tho when they do sail with him they've got a sort of second stepdad in Ed (and stepdad Doug on land of course)#and a bunch of adopted aunts and uncles who are gonna spoil them rotten and also teach them shit like how to skin a man #ya know the stuff you need to know around that age lmaoo #tw child death

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chippedaxe · 3 years

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Shower Sex Hc's

╳°»｡ ∾･⁙･ ღ ➵ ⁘ ➵ ღ ･⁙･∾ ｡«°╳

Title: Shower Sex Hc's

Warnings: NSFW (Minors DNI), shower sex, coarse language, degrading names may be used, hair pulling, stomach bulge, orgasm denial etc.. (unedited btw)

Pronouns: They/Them non specified genitalia

Synopsis: Headcanons of how sex in the shower with these Mcyt's would go!

Word count: 2.2k

Note: No one requested this but it was an idea that needed to be written! This might be a very long post..

* I'm also still writing everyone's request, pls just be patient <3

If there’s any warnings that I’ve missed/ tags I need to fix/ anything in the fic that needs fixing then pls let me know !!

╳°»｡ ∾･⁙･ ღ ➵ ⁘ ➵ ღ ･⁙･∾ ｡«°╳

c! Dream

- You were standing with your front facing the water, your eyes were closed and your face was buried in water. You were just trying to wash all the dirt off your skin when you suddenly got spooked, a large hand came up and caressed your side which made you jump a little "Huh??" you turned around and saw your hunky boyfriend there "Sorry, did I scare you?" He laughed at your shocked reaction.

"What're you doing in here?? I'm showering!" you exclaimed "So am I! What a coincidence!" He kissed your cheek and rubbed circles into your hips "Dream.. I'm trying to be clean!" you pushed him off you and he faked being hurt "Ouch.. You really hurt my feelings, what did I do to deserve this?" he gasped dramatically "Oh you shut up, you big baby!" you laugh at his silly antics.

Dream offers to wash your back for you and you reluctantly agree "No weird stuff?" you seem suspicious of his behavior "Weird stuff? From me? Never!" he scoffed at you, you already knew that you had made a mistake when he had said that. He squirted some liquid soap into his hand and began to run his hands over your back, it feels like a nice massage until he starts to get even lower.. His hands move down so they're now groping at your butt "Dream, that's a bit low" you growl at him.

"You've got me there, dear!" he chuckles as he continues to gently massage your ass "Are you seriously this horny? You can't even wait for me to clean up before touching me?" You furrowed your eyebrows "I'm horny for you, baby" Dream kissed you and wrapped his arms around your torso. You kissed him back and then moved your hands to feel up his chest, one hand slowly making its way down toward his stomach "You're so good to me, dear, couldn't have anyone better than you.." Dream huffed into your ear.

You took his cock in your hand and you pumped it a few times just so it'd get hard and then you slowly pushed it inside of you, you gasped as it stretched you out and made your legs shake "Oh fuck!" Dream groaned "H- hold me!" you dug your nails into his back as he started to thrust into you. You were already so close to cumming with how he was just railing into you "C- cumming!" you squealed "Already? Fuck! Me too!" Dream bit down on the back of his hand and started fucking you faster "Ah!" you came on his cock.

c! Sapnap

- You walked into the bathroom and saw the outline of Sapnap's figure through the curtain, you bit your lip and began to undress hastily. You dropped your pants to the ground and carefully snuck into the shower behind Sapnap, he didn't even notice until your hands snaked up to caress his chest "Ah.. Baby.." he softly moans as you rub his chest "Mind if I shower with you?" you smile.

“Just showering?" Sapnap smirked "Maybe not just showering" you blushed as you imagined what was going to come, "come here and I'll wash your body for you" Sapnap kissed your forehead. You moved towards him and passed the soap, Sapnap lathered his hands in soap before running his rough hands over your skin.

You let out a hitched moan when his hands brushed over your nipples, he let one of his hands travel down your stomach and to your nether regions "You're already wet? But baby, you didn't go under the water" Sapnap laughed "Don't tease me or I'll dry off and go take care of this myself" you hissed "You're right, sorry baby" he continued his actions and moved his hand to slowly finger you. You whined softly as his fingers thrusted in and out of you gently, your hips bucked against him and you started to grind yourself against his hand but he then pulled out without warning.

You whimpered and cried "Sap!" you pouted, he bent you over slightly and then lined himself up with your hole. You bit your lip in pleasure when he finally pushed in, he grunted as you clenched around his cock "Shit.. Baby, you feel so good!" Sapnap threw his head back and drilled into your sweet hole. You held onto the wall so that you didn't slip in the shower, you moved your hips against his, your free hand flew to cover your mouth.

His cock was absolutely wrecking you and you didn't wanna have to explain your screams of pleasure to the neighbors, Sapnap leaned forward and bit down lightly into your shoulder. You gasped and came with that action, Sapnap came not too long after. "Let's actually get clean now, aye?" Sapnap teased but then quickly had to catch you as your wobbly legs gave way.

c! George

- You offered to shower with George and he hesitated at first "What? Why would we shower together for? We have two bathrooms" George was confused "I could wash your back, maybe wash a little more.." you suggested "Like what?" George still didn't get the idea so you decided to just join him the next time he was showering. You threw your shirt over your head and wiggled off your pants, you then pulled back the curtain to reveal a scared and embarrassed George.

"H- Hey! This showers taken!!" George blushed and turned away "I know, I wanted to shower with you, is that okay?" you give him a hug and your naked bodies press together for just a moment "I- I guess!" George pries you off him and tries to hide away in the corner "George baby, don't you want me to wash you?" you pursed your lips together "I can do that myself!" George exclaimed "I could do it for you though.. I promise I'll be extra gentle" you smile up at him.

George groans and lets you do what you wish, you squeal and cover your hands in soap. You rub his arms first, you bite your lip as you subtly squeeze at his muscly forearm, you then start to caress and wash his torso and chest "George, you're so pretty" you coo as you rinse off the soap. You turn George around and then you start to get on your knees "What're you doing?" George asked you, you moved your hair out of the way and looked up at him "What does it look like? Cleaning you, dummy!" you smiled.

"H-hey no! I know you're doing something lewd!" George cried out as you gave the tip of his cock a little kiss, he grew hard right away and you grinned "You can tell me now if you want me to stop.." you tease him "N- no" George begins to speak "Aw, I've been forcing you into this.." you tease further and begin to stand up to leave but George unexpectedly pushes you down "Suck it" he growls, your eyes go wide at his sudden dominance.

You listen to him immediately, your lips parting and letting his cock push into your mouth. You suck on him gently and you let your tongue swirl around the tip "Fuck, that's real good.." George's hand travels to your hair and he carefully starts to guide your mouth, he wants to fuck your face so bad but he'll hold out on doing that. "Gonna cum.. Gonna shoot my seed down your throat, baby" George grunted and came into your mouth.

You swallowed his cum and pulled off his penis, you looked up at him and wiped your mouth "You think you can get away with teasing me? Get your ass over here and try not to slip" he stared you down.

c! Karl

- Karl wasn’t taking a shower and he was starting to really smell worry you a lot, you came up from behind and hugged him but pulled away when you smelt his odd scent “baby? Why’d you pull away?” He turned around “I wanted to ask if you’d like to shower with me!” You came up with an idea to get him to finally bathe.

“Shower with you? I’m not sure about that, our shower can be a bit cramped” Karl thought to himself “then I guess we’re gonna have to stand pretty close..” you hinted to him, his face blushed a bright red when he figured out what you meant “alright! W- we can do that!” Karl’s voice cracked as he agreed.

You met him in the bathroom, he was already in the shower and waiting for you. You pulled off your outfit of the day and then jumped in behind him, your hands both quickly reacting and covering both his mouth and his cock. He started to moan and whine as your hand pumped his cock “hmmmhn!” His voice was muffled by your hand.

“Baby, gonna cum?” You tease as your hand strokes him a little faster. He nods his head and humps your hand a little bit as he gets closer and closer, you then pull away just as he’s about to cum. “H-Huh??” He’s all whiny and pouting when you move your hands “only clean boys are allowed to cum, clean yourself smelly” you tease him.

c! Punz

- He asked you if you wanted to come shower with him, you had already known the sexual consequences of accepting his offer and you had accepted. Punz had bad intentions with you, he walked into the bathroom and started to strip himself immediately whilst you stood there and watched him "Aren't you gonna undress?" he glanced towards you "oh uh.. Yeah!" you gulped and took your clothes off.

- You got into the shower with him and he started to rinse himself off under the water "Aren't you gonna come here and get wet?" his words even sounded lewd, you shyly made your way over and got under the water. The water ran down your bodies "The water isn't on you properly, get closer like this" he pulls you in so now you two are basically entwined. Your crotch is brushing up against his and you're questioning how he isn't hard yet, you start to slowly grind up on him and you hope that he doesn't notice.

"Look at you being a whore, trying to get off when I was just trying to have a nice shower with you?" He teased, his hand reaching down to toy with your little hole. You whined against his slightly touches "ah.. Please fuck me.." you pawed at his body and he stood there nonchalantly. "You think you deserve it? I was just trying to shower and you started touching me" Punz teased you and crossed his arms.

You nodded desperately “fine, but you have to clean me up!” Punz pretends as if this wasn’t what he had planned, his cock was already hard from the moment he entered the bathroom. You bent over and allowed him to thrust his huge dick inside of you, you gasped and moaned out in pleasure as he was already going rough.

Punz dug his hands into your hip as his balls slapped your ass, his thrusting was making your legs hurt and your stomach bulge. You held onto your tummy and covered your mouth as you felt yourself already about to cum, you warned Punz by tapping the wall “g-hnnn..” your legs shook and you almost fell over when you had came.

c! Eret

- Eret joined you in the shower, her hands washing your hair carefully which made you go into a more blissful mood. You crooked your head back as she gently tugged, you moaned softly when he pulled on your hair by accident "sorry!" you shut your mouth and hoped he wouldn't tease you over that. "Did I hurt you??" Eret asked with a bit of a teasing undertone "N- no, that didn't hurt-" you began to say "Oh, so it felt good?" Eret smirked, you lowered your head and didn't answer.

Eret pulled on your hair again which made you let out a high pitched squeal "Ah!" it sounded almost pornographic, Eret chuckled lightly "I was just trying to wash your hair and here you are making my cock all hard" they showed off their hardened penis. You gulped nervously as you took in his length "shit" you thought to yourself "I'm sorry, please be gentle with me!" you pleaded "You say that as if I'm not normally gentle with you" Eret laughs.

Eret's hands squeeze your hips for a moment before lifting one of your legs up, she then slid their penis inside of your hole "Ah! Fuck!" you howled in pleasure "Does it feel good, baby?" Eret thrusted harshly inside of you. You nod your head as you're trying to keep your noises down "Why don't you speak up?" Eret teased as he started to thrust harder "Ah! F- Fuck! Eret! Eret! Eret!" you put your hands on the wall so that you wouldn't slip, you bit down on your lip as you found it harder to stay quiet.

"FUCK! I'm CUMMING!" you couldn't conceal your screams of pleasure as you came all over their cock, your hole clenched around him and she ended up coming just after you.

╳°»｡ ∾･⁙･ ღ ➵ ⁘ ➵ ღ ･⁙･∾ ｡«°╳

#mcyt x reader smut #mcyt headcanons #mcyt x reader #mcyt smut #dream smp smut #dsmp smut

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allisonlol · 3 years

Note

Can you do tecchou, jouno, tachihara jealousy hcs?

a/n: absolutely !! i love writing jealousy >:) this also makes me want more tachihara requests...

warnings: some suggestive content, that's about it?? otherwise just these boys being jelly

(Tecchou, Jouno, Tachihara) Being Jealous

Tecchou

he strikes me as the type to not get jealous very often

what can i say? he has a lot of trust for you and knows you wouldn't purposefully do anything to hurt him

this doesn't mean it's impossible to make tecchou jealous, tho

an easy, go-to way would be to talk to jouno for an extended amount of time

hell, even if you said hi to jouno it would irk tecchou

very unlikely that he would say much about it to you directly

his body language will reveal how he's feeling instead

^becomes very tense and serious, and will hover behind you while you talk to jouno

it's kind of intimidating LMAO...jouno always makes fun of him for it later

if the conversation's taking too long, tecchou will grab your hand before pulling you away and claiming you have to "help him with something"

you'll end up "helping him" after but...it's nothing work related ;) rather him just giving you a reminder of who u belong to

tecchou won't hold anything against you if you unintentionally made him jealous since he knows that is a personal problem of his

but pls don't try to make him jealous on purpose :( even if you're jk, he'll take it seriously and it may break a bit of the trust he has for you

if someone tries to flirt with you (under the presumption that ur single) tecchou would be pretty polite in introducing himself and revealing that, unfortunately for them, you're very much taken

if they don't let up on the flirting after this, he won't hesitate to drop some subtle hints of how he'll have to use force if they don't get away from you 😳

Jouno

this man lmao

tries to play it off like he's not but, it's pretty easy to make him jealous

not that surprising since he has a low tolerance meter for most everything else

becomes murderous when he sees someone flirting with you

will come up and stand next to you like “is this person bothering you, y/n? allow me to take care of it…☺️”

pretends to be all polite & formal, but his smile is threatening and there’s a hidden layer of venom in his voice

if that doesn’t scare off the person flirting with you...idk what will

it’s always evident when he’s jealous because he’ll go uncannily quiet...even his constant sarcastic comments towards tecchou will stop

turns into the 😑 emoji

talking to anyone for an “unnecessary” extended period of time makes him jealous tbh

especially if it’s tecchou

jouno tries to keep you as far away from tecchou as possible...but obviously since y’all work together it’s gonna be hard

when he catches tecchou talking to you, he’ll just walk over and shove him out of the way, taking his place instead🧍🏻‍♀️

if you tried to make jouno jealous on purpose…

he’d definitely be able to tell

which would only amuse him bc then he could start thinking of all different ways to punish you for it 😶

Tachihara

similar to jouno, tachihara gets jealous pretty easily

but unlike jouno, he doesn’t find it entertaining & instead becomes a bit insecure :(

the type + severity of his jealousy does depend on the situation

if someone else is flirting with you, he’ll become very protective

when the person first approaches to talk to you he doesn’t pay them much mind, but the second you appear even slightly uncomfortable, he’s going over to calmly inform them that they should leave 😅

and if they don’t? well, we all know that tachihara has a short fuse and won’t hesitate to use force-

this type of jealousy makes him particularly angry

(not at you tho, never at you)

^more directed towards the people who think they even stand a chance to hit on you 😒 like who do they think they are lmao

just pls never purposely go out of ur way to flirt with anyone else :( bc he’s another one who will take this seriously

tachihara will really start doubting himself & wondering if he’s truly enough for you

how dare you make him feel this way

this type of jealousy just makes him feel sad & insecure

literally pulls you aside and asks “am i not good enough??” :((

he looks like a sad puppy omg

JUST. PLEASE REASSURE HIM THAT HE’S PERFECT

& never even think about flirting with anyone else 😑 yes y/n i am threatening you

a/n: loved this reqqq, i hope u enjoyed !! i’m ever so slowly turning into a mega tachihara simp AAAA

song i listened to while writing: love taste by moe shop (been stuck in my head for the past week- help)

ty! :D

#tachihara x reader #bsd tachihara #tachihara michizou #tachihara x you #bsd x y/n #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x you #jouno x reader #bsd jouno #jouno saigiku #tecchou x reader #bsd tetchou #bsd tecchou #bsd hcs #bsd hunting dogs #bsd headcanons #bsd imagines

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ahtsumu · 3 years

Text

long shots ; miya osamu

pairing: miya osamu x f!reader

synopsis: miya osamu is the teacher’s assistant for food chemistry i. you can’t stop thinking about him.

tag(s): college!au, slow burn, TA!miya osamu, grad student!reader, fluff, reader is a go-getter!! ; warning(s): profanity, suggestive themes, talk of insecurities and imposter syndrome ; wc: 5.6k

a/n: happy birthday to @starrysamu! i love u. pls excuse any errors. i’ll weed them out later! btw this fic is not a sugar daddy au LOL

HIS NAME IS Miya Osamu and he always looks like he has it all figured out. Comes in every class with his black hair perfectly tousled, the sleeves of his dark button-up rolled to his elbows, a cup of coffee in one hand and the strap of that black messenger bag in another.

“He drives a BMW, did ya know?” Isla says in your ear one morning. Your only friend in Food Chemistry I gives you a pointed look before sitting back in her chair in the lecture hall with a smirk on her face. “Saw it this morning. Bet he’s loaded.” The two of you watch the subject in question walk across the classroom and settle in his seat at the table in the corner.

“Shut up,” you whisper with wide eyes. A grin–– far from innocent–– makes its way onto your face. “Imagine being Miya Osamu’s sugar baby.”

“He’s not old enough to be a sugar daddy.” Isla looks at her nails disinterestedly. “And that’s too many AUs in one. He’s already the TA, for god’s sake. This isn’t some shitty Wattpad novel.”

A light giggle slips out of your lips. “I can see the title already. My Sugar Daddy is the TA?!”

Now, if anyone had been listening in on your conversation, they would’ve assumed many things about you. The first being that you’re both gold-diggers. This is untrue–– at least, in your case. Isla, you’re not so sure about, given how your friendship only goes back about one month. But she tags you in memes on Instagram so maybe it��s as real as real gets. Their second assumption would be that you have a big fat crush on your TA. That one’s complicated, mostly because it’s true, but only kinda. It all started in the second week of school when Isla caught you staring at Osamu and slipped you a post-it note with both your initials encircled in a heart. And, because you’re shameless with a good sense of humour, you made a show of kissing it while she was looking. And thus began your meaningless but incredibly entertaining, satirical, co-written fantasy about Miya Osamu.

It also didn’t help that on the first essay you got back, Isla’s paper had been marked up with “are you sure?”s and “this is a jump”s, while yours had “excellent reasoning” and “insightful analysis”. You’d even gotten a little comment at the bottom: y/n, fantastic work. you should speak up in class more often. –– OM

But Miya Osamu doesn’t play favourites because the next week you’d gotten another essay back, this time with another comment at the bottom: y/n, not your best work. you could’ve done better by connecting your first paragraph with the second using grant’s reading. conclusion lacked punch, too. all the best. –– OM

Every time you’d read the words scrawled in blue ink, you’d felt a pair of eyes on you. But you chalk it up to Osamu being a careful grader. A good TA. Someone who cares about his students.

Isla calls bullshit on that. You’re not really sure how to feel about her stance.

The classroom door opens and shuts again. You don’t have to look at your phone to know that it’s nine on the dot. Instead, you and Isla straighten your backs, pull out your notebooks, and focus. Your no-nonsense professor says “good morning” in her usual perky manner before jumping right into her keynote presentation.

“Did you all find the reading okay?” Professor Lee asks an hour into the lecture.

A chorus of “yes”s fill the air. You bite your lip, wondering if revealing that you didn’t understand shit will out you as the class idiot. Or maybe your silence is telling enough–– maybe the people in the seats beside you have noticed the grimace on your face and are having thoughts like ‘gee whiz, am I glad I’m not dumb like her’. Heat rushes to your cheeks. Sometimes you really wonder if you’re smart enough to be here. Occurrences like these do nothing to dispel your insecurities.

You vaguely hear her ask something like, “Any thoughts about the reading?” It’s not that you’re actually dumb. It’s just that this class is ridiculously hard for an introductory course, even for a graduate programme. From the start of the semester til now, fifteen people have dropped the class. There’s just twenty of you left. Guess a ridiculously hot TA can’t save a course’s drop-rate.

Before you can make your mind up on what to say, your professor moves on from her question.

As you look off to the side of the room for a break from your thoughts, you find a pair of blue-grey eyes pointed in your direction.

Everything about you, from the expression on your face to the way your muscles tense, makes you look like a deer caught in headlights–– even though he was the one caught staring in the first place. So maybe your shamelessness works on a scale.

Miya Osamu lifts one corner of his mouth.

And as if the exchange hadn’t happened at all, he looks back down at his laptop and continues typing.

The rest of the lecture goes through one ear and out the other.

“Everyone, I believe Osamu has something he wants to say,” Professor Lee says as everyone begins packing their bags.

The raven-haired TA slides out of his seat and sits on top of his desk. “Yeah.” Osamu clears his throat and crosses his arms over his chest. You notice how the muscles in his arms bulge from the movement.

“Whipped,” Isla mutters, grinning mischievously.

“Him for me,” you whisper back, though your eyes do travel back to his face where they should’ve been all along. Osamu catches your gaze and holds it. And then he looks away again.

“Now, I know you’re all Nobel prizewinners in the making,” he begins, garnering a round of snickers and giggles from your classmates. Most people say that cliques dissolve in college. That there’s no such thing as popularity amongst graduate students. That much, you agree with. But no one ever said anything about popular teacher’s assistants. Especially smart, attractive, witty teacher’s assistants like Miya Osamu. “But in case you didn’t understand the reading or would like to develop a deeper understanding of it, don’t hesitate to email me. I’ll try to host a review session all of us can attend.”

Professor Lee smiles appreciatively at Osamu, adding, “That’s a wonderful idea, Osamu. Guys, please take this opportunity if you struggled with the reading. I know eighty pages is a lot, but our next three classes are structured around the concepts in the reading and the mid-term next week will almost exclusively be about it, too.”

Well, shit.

To: [email protected]

Hi Osamu,

I was wondering if I could get some help with the reading from last class. To be frank, I couldn’t make it past page 15 and I’m lost like a snot-faced five-year-old in a shopping mall on Black Friday. Sorry. Thanks in advance!

Regretfully,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: [email protected]

no problem. is 5 pm tomorrow at jack’s okay? we start on the concepts from the reading next class so i want to get you up to speed asap. let me know. thanks.

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

It’s five minutes to five when you pull into the parking lot of Jack’s Diner. The shiny, retrofuturistic eatery is a university favourite but the empty parking lot tells you it’s completely deserted right now (and rightfully so–– who eats dinner before six?). The black BMW parked a few spots from your car, however, says that you’re not alone.

Osamu’s figure comes into view as you reach for the handle to the front door of Jack’s. The twenty-six-year-old sits by himself at one of the bright red tables in the back, typing away on his dark grey laptop.

His head lifts up at the sound of the opening door. Osamu calls out your name and waves you over.

“Hi,” you greet with a smile, sitting down across from him.

“Hey.”

You look around before leaning forward on the table. “Is anyone else coming?”

“No.” Osamu sits back in his seat. “I thought about hosting one big group, but then I realised that it’d probably be stressful for the staff here.” He nods his head in the direction of the kitchen. “And I had a hunch that everyone would have different questions. Forcing everyone to review concepts they already know is a waste of time.”

At first, you nod. That makes sense. But then you furrow your brows. “So how long have you been here?”

Osamu blinks. He hadn’t expected you to ask about him. “Hmm? Oh.” He taps his phone to check the time. “Just a while.”

Quirking a brow, you ask, “And how long is ‘a while’ to you?”

“Seven hours,” he admits, chuckling lightly when he sees your jaw drop. “A lot of people had questions. They just don’t act like they do. Anyway, time flies. Really, it does.” Quickly, he clears his throat and sits forward. “So, about your email.” He grins. “Not sure if you meant it to be funny, but it was.”

“I’m glad my distress was entertaining for you. Do you TA just to watch grad students suffer?”

“Perks of the job,” Osamu says. His grin widens when you giggle. He’s never heard you laugh before and he realises at that moment that it’s really nice. And then that same grin falters. Gracefully, of course, and imperceptibly to you. But not to him. Is it okay for him to be… thinking things like that? About a student? But you’re not really his student since he’s just the TA. Right? Osamu ignores the weird feeling that comes over him and clasps his hands together at the edge of his laptop. “Back to your email. Can ya tell me what you’re confused about?”

Three hours and two Impossible Burgers later, you suddenly understand everything about food molecules so well that you wonder why you’d even been confused in the first place. But besides that, you’ve also picked up things about Osamu. As a person and not an idea. Not that you’d been actively searching for fun facts about your TA. But they’d stuck to your brain like gum at the bottom of a desk. He likes to slip sarcastic quips into a conversation every now and then. Eats burgers upside down (“The right way,” as he’d said, smirking). Is friendlier than he looks.

“You’re really good at explaining things,” you comment as Osamu shuts his laptop closed.

“Well, I kinda have to be,” he says. And maybe it’s the mental fatigue catching up on him or the fact that he’s real fond of the reason why he can break big concepts down into morsels but suddenly, the rest of his thoughts spill out his mouth like wine. “I have a twin brother with potato salad for brains.”

“Oh?”

And before he can stop himself, he tells you about Miya Atsumu, the pro-athlete you’ve definitely heard of but never gave too much thought. And then you hold onto the fact that they were both on the volleyball team and you ask of which school, so then he tells you about Inarizaki, the high school he attended, and then his decision not to go pro to go to college, and then–��

“Sorry,” he laughs, cheeks turning pink. “You probably didn’t need to hear all that.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say–– and you mean it. “Your life is interesting.”

Osamu leans back in his chair. “Well, I’m sure yours is, too.” He holds your gaze like it’s the key to your presence. It’s an invitation. The kind that comes from people who don’t really know if they want you around but also don’t want you gone.

You take it.

Osamu shouldn’t–– he really shouldn’t–– but he wonders about the things you didn’t tell him the entire drive home.

Isla laughs when you tell her about what happened at Jack’s. You lay in bed with your phone next to you on speaker, your face turned on your pillow so that you’re staring out the window at the city below.

“He wants you,” she sings.

“Or he was just being nice.”

“Methinks not!” Isla giggles. “He’s intrigued, girl! You’re like that cute little new mystery in his life and he just wants to get to know you.”

“I think he was just being polite.”

“Or he’s crushing on you!”

“In your dreams.”

“You mean yours? Boo, you’re no fun today. Usually, you go along with the jokes.” Isla’s tone is playful on the surface but full of implications.

A few silent seconds pass. Yeah, you think, agreeing. I do.

“Girl,” Isla drags out the word in a high pitch, saying it like a scientist says ‘eureka’. “You’re not playing along anymore because it’s real now. You're actually catching feelings!”

“Am not!” you laugh.

“The Y/N I knew would’ve said ‘nah, bitch, he’s catching feelings’ and I think that says all there is to say.”

“Okay, I think he’s cute but it’s not a crush,” you concede, grinning. “And he’s the TA, Isles. It’d never happen.”

“Not while he’s still a TA in a class you take.”

“Isla.”

“Ask him out once this semester ends! Unless you’re chicken.”

“I’m not asking him out.”

“Knew you were––”

“Have you seen me? He’s asking me out.”

Miya Osamu walks through the door at eight-fifty as usual that next morning, dressed in his usual button-up, holding his usual cup of coffee. But this time, as the rest of his tall frame passes through the doorway, Osamu’s eyes subtly scan the faces in the lecture hall, lingering for just a while over yours. The corners of your lips turn up. You hope he saw that.

“Bitch!” Isla whisper-screams. The students sitting around you turn around at the noise and grin at each other when they realise it’s just Isla being… well, Isla. She shoos them away jokingly.

“What?” you whisper back.

“Care to explain why our TA was literally eye-fucking you?”

“That was hardly eye-fucking,” you retort. “Maybe like an eye-handshake.”

“Yeah, a naked eye-handshake where his thang is handshaking your––”

He does it again the next class.

And the next.

And then he doesn’t. Miya Osamu walks through the door to Food Chemistry I at eight-fifty in the morning in a navy blue button-up with a cup of coffee in his hand and looks through the rows of seats in the lecture hall for your face, only to find it missing.

He debates pressing the matter.

To: [email protected]

hey osamu,

i wasn’t in class today because i’ve been sick with the flu (no big deal, just feel like i’m dying). a classmate sent me pictures of the slides from today so i think i should be fine, but is it okay if i email you with any questions? thank you very much!

miserably,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: [email protected]

y/n,

of course. sorry to hear that you’re sick. let me know if i can do anything to help you. the midterm is next week. get well soon.

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

“You writing that the midterm is next week did not offer me any peace of mind, by the way,” you say, spinning around in your chair as Miya Osamu enters your pod in the library.

He offers you a wry grin. “Hello to ya, too.”

“Was that an accent?” You thought you’d heard one at Jack’s, but you couldn’t be sure because it’d been so spotty.

Osamu slips into the seat beside yours and pulls out the laptop in his messenger bag. You catch a whiff of his cologne–– something spicy and woody, but clean. It suits him. “Nice catch. Yeah, I speak a regional dialect. Took me a while to smooth it over but it still resurfaces every now and then.”

“Why?”

“It just didn’t seem fitting for a PhD candidate, I guess,” Osamu explains, opening the slides from the class you missed. A day after your initial exchange, you’d emailed him again (with a much clearer mind) and asked if he could go over the slides with you in person.

i literally feel like i’ve been given the homework from russian lit, you’d written. except the russian has been translated to hieroglyphs and my task is to choreograph an interpretive dance based on the hieroglyphs.

Osamu had snickered when he saw your email. that doesn’t even make sense. must be the fever talking, he’d been tempted to write. But that strange feeling had come over him again, the one that’d screamed at him to keep it professional, goddamnit, so he’d played it safe instead and sent is eight pm at the main library okay? He hates that you’re getting a watered-down version of his personality. Osamu swears he’s a lot more interesting when he’s not, well, a TA.

“I think it’s fine,” you say, smiling. “I like it. It’s you.” And suddenly, you’re wondering if it’s okay to be complimenting your TA. If it’s okay to say that you like things about him, or if that crosses some grey, unclear line. Is it weird to treat your TAs like they’re your friends? It’s not like TAs are real teachers. Right?

A grin–– wide and genuine and almost excited–– grows on Osamu’s face. He rubs the back of his neck as his eyes flit over to the laptop screen. “Thanks. Really.”

You nod. But you feel like there’s more that he might want to say, so you wait.

“I got a lot of shit for it when I came here for my master’s, y’know. Not to my face, of course, but people would refer to me as ‘the guy with the accent’. A professor once said it made me seem crass. Said it’d hold me back in my career.”

“So you changed.”

“Adapted,” Osamu corrects. “It’s hard to admit but conforming is sometimes all you can do when you don’t have the power to change the system. Can’t really make everyone suddenly respect a dialect.”

“And after you’re finished with your PhD, you’ll go back to speaking in that dialect?”

Osamu looks out the window and smiles, probably imagining the plans he’s already made about the future. “Yeah.”

“What if you have to speak the standard language at your job? Like, your boss is all, ‘hey man, if you don’t speak––”’

“I’ll be the boss.”

“Oh?”

And with a little more prodding, Miya Osamu tells you about the restaurant chain he plans on opening after graduation, the slides about food additives left completely untouched.

The librarian knocks on your pod a few minutes before eleven to tell you they’re closing.

“Shit,” Osamu murmurs, running his hands through his hair. You’re still laughing about something he’d said before the librarian interrupted him–– one of his stories from high school–– and he thinks that you’ve completely forgotten that the reason you came to the library was to catch up on the material you were already behind on. And now you’re behind on that. But you look so carefree right now and, actually, you’re very pretty and you’ve got such a good heart and it’s a lot for him to process but he knows he just wants to see you happy a while longer. So Osamu just slumps back in his chair and laughs along with you.

He says your name as his chuckles grow softer. “It’s pretty late. How’re you getting home?”

“I’ve a bike,” you reply. It’s good for the environment and is a pretty solid form of exercise if you do say so yourself. Sometimes you just don’t feel like driving.

Osamu presses his lips in a thin line. Would it be too much to offer you a ride? “I can drive you home. It’s really not safe for you to be alone outside, especially near midnight. You can get your bike tomorrow. Or I’ll get it for you.”

He drives fast. Not the unsafe fast that speed demons drive at, but the kind of fast where you know he’s got some edge to his character. You bring it up to him–– especially since it’s nighttime, for god’s sake, he could hit something–– and all he does is remind you how there are lamps as bright as the sun lining the entire road to your dorm. And the fact that you live in the least accessible dorm on campus.

“A twenty-minute drive?” he’d exclaimed when he saw the GPS monitor.

“A bunch of roads are closed for construction. It’s a ten-minute bike-ride because I can cut through campus.” And suddenly feeling a little burdensome, you’d added, “Sorry. I can still bike––”

“No.” He’d held his hand out in front of you, gesturing for you to stay in the passenger’s seat. “It’s not a bother at all.” Because it wasn’t. Osamu was… happy. Not that he’d admit that.

“So this BMW,” you start in a teasing tone.

Osamu smirks. “A gift.”

“Can I guess from who?”

“Sure.”

“Atsumu.”

His brows rise. “Colour me impressed.” He hadn’t expected you to remember anything he’d said about Atsumu. Or maybe he had but told himself otherwise to lower his hopes.

“I’m smart like that.”

He snorts. “Not if you keep distracting me and using your review time to…” hang out with me, get to know me, tell me things about you… “…goof off.”

You grimace. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

Osamu makes a turn down a familiar street. It dawns upon you that you're ten minutes away from your dorm and suddenly you wish he’d just make the wrong turn at the next intersection so that you could talk to him some more. It can even be about the health benefits of fish or the molecular makeup of kale–– you don’t mind. You just want to be around him longer.

“I think you’re really smart,” Osamu says quietly. “I think you’re not processing the readings because you’re distracted, or just not fully applying yourself. Obviously, last class’s slides are a different thing, since you were absent. But you really are smart. I’ve seen your papers.”

You bite your lip to hide your grin, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. “Thank you.” You look out the window, too jacked on dopamine to think straight. “I think I still need you, though.”

And that innocuous little sentence floats right out your mouth into the air, settling between you like a little wedge before either of you even realise it. Neither of you says anything. You marinate in the awkwardness before stuttering out a clarification. “To, um, to explain things. Y’know, since you’re, uh, so good at… explaining things.”

Osamu clears his throat and chuckles stiffly. There’s a slightly pink tinge to his cheeks. “Thanks,” he says, looking straight ahead. He can’t even look at you. Fuck. It’s so awkward. “I’ll try to keep… explaining things.” Fuck. What does that even mean?

A few uncomfortable minutes pass in silence. The night can’t end like this, you think. It can’t when everything else had gone so well. You still have to see him for a few more months. “Did you know,” you start, catching Osamu’s attention, “that Jack’s Diner has a location in Italy?”

“Oh?” he asks, making the final turn to the street where your dorm is. He actually hadn’t.

“Yeah. I asked the owner about the chain a while back. Have you ever been to Italy?”

Osamu shakes his head. “I’ve been to Paris, though. To see a friend. He’s a chocolatier.”

Now, if Osamu had been your friend, you would’ve said something like well, let’s go to Italy together, except he’s not. He’s your TA and you’ve been reminded that enough tonight. So instead, you say, “When you open that restaurant of yours in Italy, let me know.”

“That’s gonna take a while,” he laughs. He appreciates how you said ‘when’, though. And he tucks that little bit of confidence you have in him somewhere deep in his mind so that it doesn’t get lost.

“Isn’t that just seven hours?” you shrug, grinning. Osamu’s BMW pulls up outside your dorm and parks as he marvels at what you just said. You’re amazing. You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face your driver.

“Thank you for driving me,” you say, offering him a smile.

“Yeah,” he replies.

You stretch out your hand. With a puzzled look on his face, Osamu grabs it and shakes it. Firmly. You can’t help but notice how nice his hands are. Calloused for sure, but they feel nice.

“Goodnight, Osamu.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

He watches you jog into the building before driving away. And it’s like you’ve possessed his car or something because the smell of your shampoo and perfume is everywhere and it’s too much but it’s also not enough at the same time and he can feel your palm against his as he spins the steering wheel to make a turn and for the first time in his life he doesn’t turn on the radio to fill the silence in his car. Osamu replays everything you said in his head.

But he especially thinks about that part where you said you need him.

Weeks melt into months. You turn in essays after essays for Food Chemistry I, each coming back with detailed commentary in an all-too-familiar blue scrawl. All your other classes go well–– extremely well, actually. You might just end the semester with a 4.0 if Food Chem doesn’t fuck you over. Isla still tags you in memes on Instagram. You still tell her about everything that happens with Osamu.

Speaking of.

“That’s the wrong equation,” he says behind your ear as he settles in the seat beside you. The sound of his low voice so close to your ear sends a small shiver down your spine. “You gotta switch the hydrogens.” Osamu knocks on your skull lightly. “What’s goin’ on up in there? Ya got somethin’ on your mind?”

You laugh and elbow him in the side. “Shut up, ‘Samu.” He’d told you during one of his office hours that he’d gone by that nickname because he had a teammate with a foreign name in high school. It sounded so cool, he’d said, grinning.

I think Osamu sounds pretty cool already, you’d teased.

And he’d replied, Let’s trade. I like yours, you like mine, why not share?

You teeter on the line between friends and less-than-friends and, oddly enough, more-than-friends. Sometimes you still play it safe. Sometimes he pauses between texts and real-time conversations, no doubt to scrap an instinctive reply for something more “professional”. Sometimes you say things that make him look at you with the ghost of a smile at the corners of his lips. Sometimes he calls Atsumu to scream about you.

“S’not a no,” Osamu points out. He’s dressed in a black sweater and grey trousers today. You’re suddenly reminded of how the weather’s been getting colder when someone opens the door to the university café and lets in a gust of chilly autumn air.

“Okay,” you admit, setting down the pencil. “I just… don’t really feel prepared for this next test.”

Osamu frowns and looks down at your worksheet. “Your process is correct, though.”

“Right, but… I don’t know. I’ve just not been feeling great about myself lately,” you laugh, looking down at your feet. “Food Chem’s the toughest class I’ve ever taken. And remember how I completely embarrassed myself in that class discussion last week? It’s not really making me feel like I belong here.”

“Imposter syndrome,” Osamu remarks.

“Correct-o.”

He says your name softly and puts a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Maybe you’re not the smartest, but you’re definitely smart. And you belong here. I’ve seen your papers. They’re just as great as anyone else’s and I don’t hand out compliments for nothin’. You’re gonna do some great things but ya can’t improve if you ever give up.” Osamu searches your eyes for a sign of your understanding.

There’re a lot of things you want to say but you don’t know how to put them into words. “Can I hug you?” you finally ask.

Osamu doesn’t even think about it. “Of course.”

He feels you smile against his chest and wonders if you can feel his heart beat faster.

Isla camps out in your dorm as finals come around the corner.

“I don’t understand shit!” she wails, throwing her notebook into the air.

“Isles, it’s okay,” you laugh, slipping out of your chair and walking over to her nest in the corner. “You gotta chill, dude.”

“Not fair! I didn’t have a hunk holding my hand through this course all semester,” she retorts, humour glittering in her dark eyes. “I had the Organic Chemistry Tutor and his accent’s cute enough but, girl, you had Miya Fucking Osamu!”

“You’re literally the worst.” You giggle and sit down beside her. “Tell me what you’re confused about. I’ll try to explain it to you.” The way Osamu does.

You text him that you’d channelled his brains later that night.

His reply comes seconds later. all you, einstein.

From: osamu

good luck on the exam

you’re going to kill it

To: osamu

would u like to divulge any… information about it? 😏 😏 😏

From: osamu

bye

To: osamu

i was kidding :(

From: osamu

fine. tip #1: write your name

To: osamu

not very helpful. 0/10

From: osamu

keep running your mouth and 0/10 is what your score’s going to be

i’m kidding

you got this, y/n

“Holy fuck,” Isla groans as you cross the street to head to lunch at Jack’s. “If you don’t see me next semester it’s because I’ve gotten my grade back and decided to drop out.”

“What would you do?” you ask, amused.

“Maybe move to New Zealand. Raise some sheep. Marry a hot, blond shepherd and fuck off to a cliffside cottage.”

“Solid plan.”

“What about you?” she asks.

“What about me?”

“Remember that conversation we had at the start of the year? About your man?” The two of you reach another red light for pedestrians.

“We’re friends. He’s not my man,” you laugh. Though it pains you to. Something about being Miya Osamu’s friend doesn’t really sit right with you, but you don’t know how to not be his friend. You don’t know how to move out of the corner you’ve backed yourself into.

“But you wish he were! And now you can finally hit him with that ‘Hey, Osamu, I’ve been madly in love with you since the start of the semester, wanna fuck like rabbits and then open that store in Italy?’ and he’ll be all––”

A throat clears behind you. With wide eyes, the two of you turn around.

Holy fuck.

Miya Osamu stands behind you with his hands in his pockets and an enormous smirk on his face.

“He’ll be all what?” he asks, eyes fixed on you.

Isla murmurs an excuse and starts walking on her own to Jack’s.

“Um.” You swallow nervously and shrink in your coat. “You heard all of that, right?”

“Yep.” Osamu grins. He grins. He’s grinning. He’s smiling like he’s won the fucking lottery and you honestly don’t know what to do with that information.

“So, like,” you look down at the sidewalk and kick at a pebble, “what are your thoughts about that?” God, you could die. “‘Cause I know you’re a TA and it’d probably look pretty bad and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you because I like you and it’s cool if we just…”

Osamu interrupts you with a laugh. “My thoughts,” he says, “are that I want to kiss you.” His fingers lift your chin up. “What are your thoughts about that?”

Well, shit. “I think that’s pretty cool, yeah,” you breathe, eyelids fluttering shut as his face comes closer to yours.

He tastes like mint. And his lips move softly, slowly against yours like he’s savouring the moment. And then you feel his hands snake around your waist to pull you closer–– closer because you both are tired of forcing the distance between bodies that want to be near each other, closer because he’s thought about kissing you just like this for so long, closer because you remember the last time he’d touched you was three days ago and it was just a brush of his fingers against your arm and that feeling of wanting more haunted you for the entire night. But holy shit, Miya Osamu is kissing you. He’s kissing you.

And then he pulls away. His dark eyes flit over yours. “I,” he breathes, “I need your course load next semester.”

“What?” you ask, disbelief written all over your features, chest rising and falling as you try to steady your breathing. You just kissed, for God's sake, and he's––

“I need to know which courses not to apply to TA for,” he grins, cupping your face in his hands. “Can’t be teachin’ in a class with my girlfriend as a student.”

“So we’re official?” you ask, beaming.

“If you want,” Osamu replies with a smirk.

You grab the front of his coat and tug him down for another kiss. “Hell yeah, I want to be official.”

#miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu scenarios #miya osamu imagines

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thesunicarusfellfor · 3 years

Note

icarus my beloved, may i please request for a zombie apocalypse au (dsmp) and the characters haven’t seen you ever since the apocalypse started and they’ve been trying to find you for a long time, but once they finally find you, you’re already turned. basically how different dsmp characters would react to finding you turned as a zombie :> also i find your stuff ✨imaculate✨

and may i pls be ur 🌧anon?

I lovvvvveeeee Zombie apocalypse AUs. I'm very excited to write this. Also, thank you! I appreciate your compliment!

Yes, you can be! I'll eventually make an Anon list... Eventually.

In order of: Dream, Bad, Tommy (and Tubbo?), Ranboo, Ghostbur, Philza

Tommy's story is Bench Trio while Ranboo's story is more around Boreal Boys.

The Boreal Boys is set around the Antarctic Empire rather than the DSMP.

Edit: Trying to put a cut in. 50/50 on whether or not it worked.

DSMP Reacting to You Being Turned Into A Zombie (Multiple x GN!Reader)

They grunted, stepping over a fallen log as they yanked a crossbow bolt out of the skull of a fallen zombie, shoving it into their bag where other bolts and arrows were wrapped up. Ignoring the murmuring of their companion(s) as they looked over the faces of rotten flesh, thankfully none of them striking a familiar chord in their mind.

"They could still be alive..." They murmured softly under their breath as they walked back to the campsite that they and their companion(s) had originally set up. With a sigh, they plopped down in front of the crackling flame and adjusted the food that had been cooking before a horde of zombies had made their way through the makeshift barricade.

Ignoring the snores of their sleeping 'teammate(s) of survival', they eagerly dug into the food after it finished cooking before pausing mid-bite as they heard a crackling in the branches. Drawing their sword out from the sheath on their hip while they set their food down back into the pan, they spun around to face their possible attacker, silently hoping it was a wild animal they could use for meat, wool or feathers.

Glancing through the forest, they squinted as they saw movement but the firelight only spread so far which wasn't enough to shed light on the figure. With a sigh, they took a burning branch from the fire and lifted it, beginning to walk forward.

Judging by the guttural growls, groans, and scent of rotting flesh, it was definitely a zombie. Lifting the makeshift torch enough, they were able to see the undead being better and squinted, trying to recognize the creature before it turned around.

(H/c) hair... Albeit matted and overgrown, and torn clothing loosely hanging to their rotten skin... But when the zombie turned their head... They'd recognize them anywhere... Even after so long...

(Y/n).

Dream

His breath caught in his throat temporarily and he felt the torch slip from his hand, but it didn't fall.

Gritting his teeth together, he cringed and gripped onto the damaged smiling mask he usually wore.

"Fuck... (Y/n)... FUCK!" He took a few steps back to avoid the lame swipes you took at him.

He was thankful that your movement was hindered to the point where your steps were small shuffles.

"You promised..." He whispered, looking down at his trademark symbol.

It was a gift from you. Two years ago... You had promised... You promised that you would be okay...

And now here you were... Lifeless but alive... Groaning and gnashing your teeth at him...

He faintly heard the pounding footsteps of George and Sapnap behind him, likely having heard him yell.

"Dream?!" George yelled before the steps immediately came to a stop.

"Is that..."

"They promised..." He whined softly before pinching his eyes shut again as anger quickly overtook him. With a fierce battle cry, he swung his sword.

The strike was sloppy, filled with emotion and too much power. He had a feeling that if Technoblade was around still, he would be mocked to death for such a shitty swing.

But this was a brainless corpse. They couldn't rub two brain cells together to even think about dodging. This wasn't his smart, clever... Cunning... Alive... (Y/n)...

So it hit.

The gleaming diamond sword sliced through the rotten skin like a hot knife through butter, especially easier due to the Fire Aspect engraved into the sword.

He took a sharp intake of breath as he heard the horrible screeching noises that came from you as you sunk to the ground, desperately reaching out to him in one last attempt to get even a taste of his flesh.

He turned from your burning body and placed his mask on to cover his face before his friends saw the silver tears in the corners of his eyes, "Let's go."

"Dre-"

"I said, let's go."

They decided not to comment further.

Bad

He slowly felt the torch slip from his grasp and clatter to the ground, burning the dew-soaked grass it had landed on but it didn't matter.

Groaning and snarling at him, you lamely stumbled forward to grab at him, but he grabbed you first.

The Demon cringed slightly at the feel of rotten flesh beneath his fingers, but he held you back from walking forward.

He dodged the gnashing of your teeth as you tried to bite his arm, but he couldn't bring himself to bring the sword through your chest to finally end your suffering...

He glanced in the direction of the camp where Skeppy was still asleep, hopefully anyway...

Bad knew Skeppy would never agree to keep you around, even if you had once been someone very important to him.

Neither of them knew how zombie bites would affect Diamond Sprites or Demons, and weren't too eager to find out.

"(Y/n)... You muffin..." He put a hand on your chin, preventing you from chomping on his arms, "I wish... I wish I could've said goodbye..."

"Maybe I could've protected you..."

"Would you still be alive if I hadn't stormed out that day?"

He continued whispering questions to your mindless form, but his only responses were watery gurgles and the odd groan.

"Muffin... I'm so sorry..." He whispered, lowering his head to look down at you better, lava tears dripping down his cheeks and landing on your rotting away face, causing horrible screeches and snarls to escape from you, but you didn't yank away.

"Bad?!" Skeppy's voice came from the camp, and he looked over his shoulder to stare at the Diamond Sprite, "What... Why are you..."

"I-I... Skeppy... Do you think... If I had done anything different... They'd be alive?" He whispered, moving aside to let his small friend see his former friend.

The blue-skinned male sighed and loaded an arrow into his bow and grabbed onto the string, getting ready to pull it back, "Bad... You can't rewrite history... What's done is done, it's too late for them..."

"Can... Can you...? I don't think I can..." He whispered and finally let go of you, causing your balance to be set off.

The second he turned his back, he heard the stretching of a bowstring before releasing it. He shut his eyes tightly as he heard the familiar impact of a bow hitting mostly rotten but still solid flesh.

He didn't turn around, instead choosing to keep his head down as his friend brought him back to the camp.

"Goodbye, (Y/n)..."

Tommy (and Tubbo?)

He was frozen stiff, his grip tightening on his sword and the torch as he stared down the undead being.

Honestly, if anyone had asked him why he was still fighting through this damned apocalypse, he would say that he was fighting to survive.

No. He was fighting to make sure you were still alive...

Now, what was left?

"For fuck's sake! You were supposed to be alive!" He yelled, no doubt waking up the camp of other survivors.

"You were the only one- Dammit, (Y/n)!" He cried, ignoring the tears running down his cheeks as he threw a punch that connected to your jaw, cracking the weakened bone almost instantly and causing it to hang like an angered Enderman.

He continued to shout at your undead form and cry, ignoring the worried calls and frantic scrambling of his friends from back at the camp.

"You used to be such a great fighter, and you lost to FUCKING ZOMBIES!" He swung his arms around, his mind barely cluing into the fact that he dropped his sword and torch, "You almost beat Technoblade for fuck's sake! Technoblade! And-and..."

'No. No. Stay angry. They lost the fight. They- Don't mourn their stupidity...' He crumpled to the ground in despair, his tears dropping into his lap as he quickly grew deaf to the sound of shuffling feet.

Luckily, someone ran past him and shoved you to the ground with a shield, sending you rolling into a puddle of mud.

"Tommy!" Tubbo cried, setting down the shield as Ranboo quickly looked him over for any bite marks or injuries.

Once he found none, he gave a large sigh of relief and looked over at the corpse that Tubbo had shield bashed away from his friend, "Oh... Wait..." He frowned, struggling to remember the face that was struggling to crawl their way over to them through the mud.

"That's (Y/n)..." Tommy murmured, sounding rather numb, Tubbo and Ranboo noted, "They taught me and Tubbo to fight, back before we lost L'Manberg... They practically raised us... Despite being a similar age... They were so strong... and brave..."

Tubbo's breath hitched as he took another look at the growling creature desperate to feast on their flesh, "N-No... They're too strong to- I don't- No- No!"

"Guys... I know- I- No, I don't know... But we have to leave. They're going to call more zombies- And... We have to kill them..." Ranboo whispered, flinching a bit when Tubbo and Tommy whipped their heads in his direction, fire burning in their eyes.

Tommy's inner flame was the first to die out.

"I know..." He whispered, ignoring Tubbo's cries of protest as he picked up the diamond sword, twisting it in his hand and watching as the torchlight reflected off of it.

"You can't kill them, Tommy- They're like our older sibling-... Were... like... Our older sibling..." Tubbo corrected himself with hesitance and a sniffle as he looked away.

He turned back to your gurgling form and walked over, moving his feet away from your grabs at his ankles while raising his sword.

With a sharp intake of breath, tears continuing to drip down his cheeks as he rose his sword, "I'm sorry..." He whispered before bringing it down through your chest.

Ranboo

Sure, his memory was bad, but he could NEVER forget the face of the name that was scrawled through his memory book.

He stumbled backwards and tripped over a log with a small yelp, his sword and torch falling from his grip.

The water from the recent rain seeping through his torn clothing caused his skin to hiss, and a small whine tore from his throat as he scrambled backwards.

His noises of pain and distress failed to scare the zombie of his former best friend off, instead only persuaded them to lazily drag their feet towards him a little quicker.

Thankfully, although he was deaf to it amidst his panic and sobs, heavy footsteps and the ruffle of feathers echoed through the forest.

"Ranboo?! Mate, are you okay!?" Hands flew to his shoulders while a pink and red blur hopped the log he had tripped on to start a brawl with the zombie.

"DON'T HURT THEM!" He wailed to Techno, fighting against the hands that held his shoulders to reach out at the zombie.

"Heh?!" Techno used his shield to hold you back, dodging the swipes you took at him with your unkempt nails, "Ranboo! They're dead! A zombie!"

Ranboo sobbed louder, fighting the urge to cover his ears at the horrible words, "(Y/n) isn't dead... They aren't... They can't be! No... no...!"

Calloused hands carded through his black and white hair, which would've calmed him down on a normal day, but now... How could he feel anything but despair? His best friend was now a lifeless being...

They promised that they'd see him again, alive, not like THIS!

"Ranboo..." Phil murmured from behind him, likely having finished checking him for bites. The avian pulled him into his chest, allowing him to bawl his eyes out, the fabric muffling his desperate wails and preventing the tears from burning his skin too much.

"You- you said a gapple and a weakness potion could turn them back, right?!" Ranboo cried, looking up at the elder male, "C-can't we try it out on them?!"

Phil and Techno were silent, and the only sounds that were heard were the crackling fire back at the camp and the gurgles of his former best friend.

Perhaps he panicked himself into a light-headed state, or maybe his memory was worse than before because the next thing he knew Techno was dragging a chained and growling corpse while Philza was practically carrying the enderboy who was pretty much twice his height.

The next few days felt like a fever dream. He spent most of his time sitting in front of a cage where the corpse of his friend laid on the cold stone ground.

Phil had doused them in a splash potion of weakness and forced a golden apple down their throat a few hours after they caged them, now it was Ranboo's job to watch over them for any changes and write them down.

"Yeah then Me, Phil and Techno travelled out of the Tundra back on the DreamSMP, and we made our way to the Antarctic, back to the old Empire that they used to rule over..." He rambled onto your lifeless corpse, reading through his memory book to continue telling you stories, even if you were dead.

"Ran...Boo..."

"(Y-Y/n)?!" He threw the book aside and ran over to the cage, only to see the corpse had gained more of a human flesh tone rather than a sickening green, and formerly black, now (e/c) eyes were staring up at the stone bricks that made up the roof.

Ghostbur

He absolutely lit up with a happy squeal.

"(Y/n)! I knew you would make it through this whole apocalypse thing!" The ghost walked over and put his hand on your shoulder, brushing off the way that you didn't flinch away from the intense cold that radiated off of him.

You only continued walking...

"Oh? Do you know of any shelter? Lead the way then!" He chirped, pulling on the lead that was hooked up to the blue sheep he knew as Friend.

The two of you walked through the forests, Ghostbur blabbering away about memories he had involving you both, but he had a tight grasp on something blue the entire time.

You never responded to him, other than the odd groan or gurgle, but the ghost never found anything wrong with it.

Inside, he knew that you were an animated corpse. He knew that you would never be able to lose your three canon lives, and become a ghost.

Instead, you were stuck as a corpse that would perpetually come back to life over and over again until your body completely got destroyed.

Every time he looked at your growling form, he wanted to feel happy, you were back travelling with him! But... You weren't the same person...

"Wil- Ghostbur!" A voice came from behind him, and he saw the father of Aliverbur standing in front of him, sword at the ready.

"Phil!" He chirped, moving beside you and holding your shoulder, so you didn't run towards Philza, "Hey, how's it going man?" He smiled widely.

The flightless avian put his hand on his hat as he watched you reach towards him uselessly, being held back by the ghost of his son, "Ghostbur... That's not..."

"(Y/n)? Yes, it is!" He continued to smile, although it seemed a little forced, "It's just been a while, don't be so negative, Philza Minecraft!"

He sighed heavily, "Wil, that is not (Y/n) anymore. They are a senseless mob!" He reached for his sword, only to blink when Ghostbur quickly ran in front of you.

"No, no! It is! It is them!" He sobbed, his tears burning his transparent skin as his body shook with horrible coughs. "Please... It is... It is..."

"Okay, okay." He put his sword in the sheath and held up his hands in surrender to make Ghostbur stop crying, "It is, it's (Y/n)... Go say hi to Techno and get some food for Friend... I'm going to talk to them."

Ghostbur wiped his eyes with his sweater and eagerly nodded, "Okay! I haven't spoken to Techno in so long, I hope he's been doing okay..." He continued to ramble as he walked to the attached cabins next to the mountain, dragging Friend along.

Philza turned back to you and drew his sword, watching as you dragged your feet through the snow to reach him, "I'm sorry, (Y/n)... He just... Doesn't understand that you're stuck suffering..."

"Philzaaaa!" Ghostbur skipped out the door, pulling his blue sheep along as Philza sheathed his netherite sword, "Where did (Y/n) go?"

The avian folded his wings to his back under his cape as he looked over his shoulder, "Oh, they were going towards the portal. They said they would be back soon."

"Oh, they finally spoke? I'm so proud of them! I'll wait for them here!" Ghostbur smiled widely, completely unaware of the burning corpse hidden behind the trees.

Philza

Maybe he should've felt something more...?

Then again... He was the Angel of Death, he caused and attracted death like a magnet with a knife.

He swung his sword simply, watching as the corpse burned and crumpled to the ground before him with desperate wails and growls.

First Wilbur... Then Tommy... Now (Y/n)... Who was next, Ranboo or Techno?

He sighed, turning away from yet another person who had meant the world to him but was now nothing but rotting burnt flesh on the stark white snow.

"Phil!" Ranboo gave a chirping noise, a static-filled deformed mimic of one of the noises he often made due to his avian genetics, "Are you alright? One of the traps went off an-"

He wanted to smile, he did. He wanted to tell the boy who was practically shaking with worry as he checked him for bites that he was alright.

"It... Was (Y/n)..." He murmured softly, feeling... Oddly calm about the situation... Or was that empty? It was like how he felt after he killed his son...

Ranboo's bi-coloured eyes slowly rose up to meet Phil's blue ones and almost cringed as he saw that he was practically looking through him, "You... Mean, your..."

"Yeah... That's them. B-But it's okay-" He went to say but Ranboo gave an upset growl sort of noise as his monochrome tail wrapped around one of his lanky and abnormally long legs.

"Okay?! Phil, you just killed one of the most important people in your life... You- You aren't okay! You're numb!" The Enderman grabbed his shoulders... And the feeling of floating that he hadn't even noticed came to a sudden halt.

Oh. He was numb... That's why he didn't feel it...

Wait when did Ranboo bring him inside?

He slowly glanced out the window to see the sun had set long ago, and the fire in the fireplace had practically died out. Ranboo was curled up on the couch on the other side of him, and Techno was nowhere to be seen.

'I killed them... Without a second thought...' His mind caught up with the situation much slower than his body had, and he slouched against the arm of the couch he was propped up against.

'I killed them like I killed Wilbur...'

'Terrible person... Horrible...'

'I kill everyone I love...'

'Techno and Ranboo are left... They're in danger from you too...'

"Phil?" A hand grabbed one of the ones that were entangled in his long golden locks, "Hey, hey... I want you to listen to my voice, okay? You're okay... Follow my breathing..."

When did he start crying?

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maybanksslut · 3 years

Text

Dating Tommy Shelby would include...

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and smoking :)

Ok pls watch me drop everything to write this bc I'm married to cillian murphy <3

First of all, how the two of you met

One night, you’d be alone in one of Birmingham’s many pubs, drowning down the sorrow you felt after fighting with your father, who was visibly upset with you for not being married

He’d been talking about marriage with you for weeks and you grew tired of having to tell him the same thing every day

“I don’t want to get married, dad, there’s no one I love!”

Of course, he’d think that was bullshit and tell you marriage wasn’t an act of love, rather a business that was supposed to tie two families together

This angered you, so here you were, drinking your pain away

And just as you’d got seated and ordered some Irish whiskey, a certain Shelby walked into the pub

Perhaps it was fate, perhaps a mere accident, but no matter what it was, it changed your life forever

“May I sit here?”

You were quick to realize he was a peaky Blinder by the way he was dressed

And by the way everyone appeared to shiver when he entered the pub, you concluded that he must be one of the Shelbys as well

“Only if you promise not to get blood on my dress”

To be honest, he was taken aback by your joke, expecting more of a nervous smile or a look filled with lust, like other women seemed to give him

He was immediately intrigued by you and made it his goal to get to know you better by the end of the night

Tommy tried to be a gentleman, he paid for your drinks, offered you cigarettes, and referred to you as “Mrs”

Until you told him you weren’t married, that is

His jaw (his jawline is perfect tho can we talk about that?) practically dropped, because how could such a beautiful woman like you not have a husband?

At the same time, he was happy, because this meant he could have a chance of making you his forever

Which, he realized later, was something he did wish to do

Tommy fell himself falling for you more and more every day, he just adored your smile, your laugh, the way you weren’t afraid of him, but rather treated him as a close friend

Yes, he was entirely enamored with you, and he knew he had to make a move before anyone else did

He often took you on horse rides or to restaurants to hear your voice, and he loved to hear you talk

“What about that horse race you went to last week, eh? Can you tell me more about it? I don’t quite remember”

He didn’t officially ask you to be his lover before you’d known each other for three months

His feelings for you were a big burden when he kept them a secret, and so was keeping your friendship from both of your families

Therefore, one night as you walked through the empty streets of Birmingham, he confessed to you

“The truth is, y/n, I am in love with you and I want you to be mine. What do you say, eh?”

You were stunned when you heard those words come out of his mouth

You’d never expected this coming, even though you had for some time now felt a stronger connection to Tommy than just a friendly one

Furthermore, the way he said it made your breath tremble. You could almost feel the passion burning its way through his confession

You could feel all the atoms in your body craving him and his love, but you couldn’t utter a words

So instead, you gently caressed his cheeks and kissed him, as if you were trying to pour everything you wanted to say into his mind by this sweet embrace

It took the both of you some time to cool down after the kiss, but when you did, the two of you grinned like idiots

“I love you, too, Tommy Shelby”

He’d carry you home and properly introduce himself to your father the second he got the chance

Your father would be so surprised, because of who you’d brought home

But he’d also be so happy (mostly because Tommy is rich, but also because his daughter finally had found someone)

He and Tommy ended up getting along quite nicely, though you saw his jaw (again he can cut me with that jaw) clench a couple of times when he mentioned the word “thugs” about some of his peaky boys

Before he left that night he kissed you so softly and romantically you thought you’d FAINT

Luckily, you didn’t, but you dreamt about him after you went to sleep

Sometime later, Tommy pushed aside his hesitations and decided to introduce you to his family

“Darling, I beg of you, don’t let them scare you away, eh?”

“Why would they scare me away? If they’re anything like you, I’m sure I’ll love them”

You’d be fascinated by all of his family members because they all appeared to be very interesting people

John would be the first one to talk to you, his outgoing personality very evident after even only a few seconds of conversation

You did enjoy his company, though you had to admit, he was kind of intimidating with his strong voice and loud laugh

Next on the list was Polly, the woman you’d heard so much about, yet knew nothing of

She was the one that you’d were afraid to meet the most, a sue she seemed so majestic and proud in her red dress and high eyebrows

Her personality was the complete opposite of what you’d expected

“Oh my god, you must be y/n! You’re gorgeous, my love! Oh, come here for a hug, my dear”

Her friendliness was overwhelming, yet it warmed your heart deeply to see that she cared for you after such little interaction

It was comforting how she took you under her wing, introducing you to the other family members while Tommy went to talk with his brothers

After the night was over, you’d befriended Ada and learned not to get on Arthur’s bad side

It was an evening full of emotions and feelings, but it was one of the best ones in your life, so you were quick to thank Tommy for making you the luckiest woman in England

“Don’t thank me, sweetheart, you’re the one who made my life brighter”

It took Thomas four weeks to propose to you

He loved you and he needed no time to know that you were his true love and he wanted to spend the rest of his life by your side

It was one night you’d spent together in bed, talking about anything and everything, stealing kisses from each other now and then

Suddenly Tommy’s face turned more serious

“I want you to marry me, y/n”

“What?”

“I want you to marry me. I want to show the whole world how much you mean to me. I want to spend the rest of my life in your arms, holding your hand and kissing your lips. I want to start a family with you and I want you, forever.”

You agreed immediately, tears in your eyes as you looked into the eye of your future husband and thought of the life you’d build together

It was perfect.

TAGLIST: @fangirlings-things @runaway-mom-friend @gxtitobxby @amirahiddleston @myloveforluna

#tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x you #thomas shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby headcanons #tommy shelby fluff #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby angst #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x you #peaky blinders x reader

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zachsreaderinserts · 3 years

Text

c! philza and c! technoblade x reader who has a panic attack

i can’t even say that im upset with how specific this is bc it just works (also i kinda changed it a lil up for phil’s bc i was inspired to do something)

tw for abuse (mental and physical) and panic attacks

wc: 1,150

C! PHILZA

you normally don’t argue with anyone! in fact, you have a tendency to avoid arguments for the sake of your mental health. and phil was typically a more passive person, so you two had gotten on pretty well.

however, one night you’re late to come home. like, incredibly late. almost three hours pas the time you normally come home.

phil? he’s super stressed. from the loss of wilbur, he’s grown to be more protective of his family and friends and that includes you. his foot would not stop bouncing and he couldn’t help that his head keeps snapping to the clock next to the couch.

the front door finally opened and you stumbled inside, looking deliriously tired. phil shoots up off the couch and meets you before you could start heading towards your room.

“where have you been? i asked techno, ghostbur, and tommy and they all told me they haven’t seen you since you entered l’manberg earlier!”

you looked down, unsure of what to say. you can’t exactly explain what was happening, it would just bring more danger to everyone involved.

so you flounder for the words, not looking phil in the eyes as he waited for your reply. and when you just settle for a simple shrug, he feels irritation build in his chest.

“you’re not even gonna tell me?”

you steel yourself. you can’t let him know. so you look up with a glare and shake your head soundlessly, telling him that you weren’t gonna budge. and phil is now officially pissed off.

at every attempt he tries to pry an answer out of you, you respond with hostility, practically asking him to just drop it.

the fight escalates slowly as you go up the stairs and you turn around just in time as phil gestures passive aggressively at you.

you can’t hear anything, you can’t see anything other than a faint glimpse of a hand hitting you at one point and you crumbled backwards, eyes wide and tearing up.

“pl-- please don’t hit me, i didn’t-- i didn’t do anything, i swear!”

phil recoils backwards at your shriek, watching as you scrambled away from him and into the nearest wall, curling into a ball.

“dream, pleas-- please, i promise!”

and the sound of a name he was far too familiar with, everything clicks in his head. this has something to do with a certain blonde manipulative mother fucker.

he walked forwards softly and crouches in front of you, noticing your tears and the fact that you’re shaking so hard he could feel the ground moving slightly. he settles his hand lightly on your knee, shushing you when you jump.

“i’m here. it’s only us, and i will make sure nothing ever hurts you. you’re safe with me.”

he keeps repeating the words, until they finally reach your muddled mind and you begin to breathe softer and slower. after five minutes of him calming you down, you lean into his touch and wipe away your tears.

now that he knew you were in the right frame of mind, he didn’t hesitate to lunge forward and pull you into a smothering hug. with your head on his shoulder, he tucked his own into your neck and let out tears of relief.

“please tell me what’s going on.”

how can you say no to that?

you spill out that dream has been threatening you, him, and the rest of his family, and has used it to make you fulfill tasks he felt like he didn’t want to do. you admitted to the mental and physical abuse, watching phil get more infuriated as you said this.

at the end, he pulls you in for hug again and sears that he, tommy, and techno are going to handle this.

C! TECHNOBLADE

you and techno are relatively okay with communication, considering he’s not too into being super vulnerable with you and you’re the same way

but the next few days, you notice that techno wasn’t coming home as often as he used to. he would come late at night, covered in blood and just take a shower and go straight to bed.

obviously, the first few times, you let him go without confrontation. if he wanted to tell you, he can. you weren’t obligated to know everything he does. that’s how your trust works.

but after almost a week of it, you were growing curious and worried. what could he be doing?

one night, you stopped him before he could move up the stairs by grabbing him by the wrist.

“hey, blade, are you alright? i’m worried about you.”

he turned around and looked at you, jaw tensing slightly. that was the first sign he was hiding something from you.

“i’m fine, why?”

you weren’t just gonna take that for an answer and began to pester him the entire way to your hared bedroom. he would respond in short and choppy answers, shaking his head the entire way.

eventually he just snaps out of irritation and whirls around, face contorted angrily.

“just drop it! fucking drop it, it’s none of your business where i go or what i do!”

techno was unaware of this, but when he got angry, his body language got extremely aggressive and defensive.

so when he turned on you with hunched shoulders and eyes glinting dangerously, you stumbled back so hard that you bashed your elbow into the wall.

techno would’ve gone on with his day had it not been for the fear in your face and how quickly you slid down the wall and cradled your head, with muffled begs of him not to hurt you.

he was on knees instantly, awkwardly holding your hands and attempting to ground you and make sure that you were okay. though he was covered in blood, you found comfort in the texture of his hands against yours and slowly eased into his embrace.

by the time you could think clearly again, you found your tears being wiped away and techno hunching over you as if he were protecting you from anything and anybody else.

“i’m so sorry i caused you to react like that.” he hums when he sees you in the right state of mind. “i’m so, so sorry.”

you do your best to comfort him back, telling him it wasn’t his fault. that night was when you unloaded past trauma, telling him about an abusive past that you were trying to move away from

he’s never felt guiltier about anything before.

techno helps you to stand and you both take a nice, long shower together (mostly to get the blood off of you both but also to make sure you’re well cared for) before heading off to bed.

once again, techno is curling his entire body around yours protectively and holding you with such an iron grip that you know nothing bad will ever come to you again.

#c!philza #c!philza x reader #c!techno #c!technoblade #c!technoblade x reader #minecraft youtubers #minecraft youtubers x reader #youtubers #youtuber x reader #mcyt x reader #dream smp #dreamsmp x reader #reader insert

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cloudy-minded-idiot · 3 years

Text

closing time

pairing: Natasha Romanoff x female reader (kinda?)

warning: mentions of blood, a probably very inaccurate description of a wound being treated (lemme know if I should add anything else)

word count: around 3,000

a/n: wrote this before bed last night and edited it this morning. feedback would be appreciated, just pls don’t be too hard on me, since it’s the first fic i’m posting on here. i have a vague idea for a second part if anyone’s interested.

summary: a wounded stranger stumbles into your life one night, and you find yourself helping her out despite your better instincts.

next part

It was a slow night for a change. The last customer had left half an hour ago. An elderly man who had only bought two packs of cigarettes and some strawberry mint gum to go along with it. He was a regular, came in at least once a week, always bought the same thing. The kind of customer you enjoyed after a long day: quiet and quick to leave.

You were all set to lock up for the day. All you could do now was wait for your shift to actually be over. A difficult thing for someone who was inherently impatient and had nothing to distract herself with. Your phone had died halfway through the day, and you had finished your book sometime around lunch. Any other night, you would at least have your co-worker or your boss to chat with, but Mr. Douglas had left early today. Something about his in-laws coming to visit. You hadn't question it.

A glance at the clock. Ten more minutes. With a sigh, you closed your eyes, just listening to the ticking sound. For a while, you counted along. It was calming. Almost enough to lull you to sleep. Not that that took a lot, you were pretty tired after all. You had long lost track of the seconds gone by when, in between the rhythmical tik-tok, a shrill bell chimed. The one above the entrance you knew all too well.

You had to suppress an annoyed sigh. Last-minute customers.

Whatever complaint you had on your mind was quickly replaced by utter shock when you opened your eyes. In, through the drugstore-door, staggered a woman with fiery red hair, covered head to toe in dirt. Bruises lined her face, and she kept one hand pressed to her abdomen in a futile attempt to stop blood from seeping out of a wound. Little droplets fell to the floor despite her efforts, marking her path to the counter.

"Holy shit!" you breathed out, eyes probably wide as saucers. You continued dumbly, "I think you need to see a doctor."

An understatement, to be sure. If her sickly pale complexion was anything to go by, she was sure to keel over sooner rather than later.

The redhead shook her head determinedly, a pain-stricken look on her face.

"No doctor. No hospital. Just need some medical supplies," her remark was accompanied by her slamming crumpled dollar bills on the counter.

"O-kay," you said slowly, leaving the counter and taking her by the elbow, "I'll get you your supplies, but you seriously need to sit down."

You opened the door to the break room, guiding her to a chair that she more or less collapsed onto. She winced in pain, and you stayed a moment to make sure she was all set before hurrying back out. In a frenzy, you jogged along the shelves, mentally trying to create a list of supplies she could need. Rubbing alcohol, a first aid kit, scissors, tweezers. You also grabbed some painkillers and a bottle of water on your way back.

Dumping all the supplies on the round wooden lunch table, you watched her nervously as she started to cut off parts of her shirt to get better access to the wound. Almost instinctively, you grabbed the trash can holding it out for her to dump the blood-soaked fabric into.

"Water," she croaked out in between painful gasps, "Need to…rinse the wound."

Mutely, you nodded. Rummaging through the cabinet of the small old-fashioned kitchen counter until you found a big bowl and filled it up. Dipping a towel into the lukewarm water, you knelt in front of the woman.

"Let me do it. You need to save your strength."

She looked like she wanted to object, but, in the end, she gave you a curt nod. There was a lot of blood. You did your best not to irritate the wound too much. By the time you were finished, the water itself was a deep crimson. She had closed her eyes, sweat covering her brow. She grabbed you by the sleeve of your shirt when you tried to stand up, holding you in place.

"Now with alcohol," she told you. Your eyes flickered to the bottle on the table.

You hesitate. Swallowing the lump in your throat.

"Are you sure?"

"Do it," the redhead commanded, eyes still closed. She let go of your arm then, returning hers to the armrest of the chair. Her fingers left behind bloody prints.

You obeyed her order, wincing along with her in sympathy as you pressed the alcohol-drenched cloth to her wound. You could only imagine how much it must sting. Her grip on the armrests tightened until her knuckles turned white. When you were done, she inspected the wound, eyes narrowed to see in the dim light of the fluorescent lamps. A long silence stretched between you two. She looked up, meeting your gaze for the first time. Her eyes were a mix of greens with little specks of grey thrown in. Under different circumstances, you might have admired them a little longer. They were quite beautiful.

"Can you sew?"

You nod slowly, sensing where she was going with this and not liking it one bit.

It took a while to find sewing supplies. Taking deep breaths, you willed your hands to stop shaking and followed her murmured instructions. Put on latex gloves, sterilize the needle and thread. She sounded very calm as she explained how to make the first stitch, didn't even flinch when the needle pricked her skin. It helped calm you down a little.

By the time you cut off the excess thread, you found yourself unable to recall doing any of the other stitches. The rush of the moment made the procedure seem to pass faster than it probably did in reality. She eyed your handiwork for a moment before giving a small nod of approval, a faint, exhausted smile tugging at her lips.

“Not bad for a rookie.”

“Thanks,” you breathed out, already preoccupied with sifting through the first aid kit.

Wrapping the wound was much more your forte. The redhead leaned back in the chair once you finished, washing some painkillers down with a big gulp from the water bottle. With the adrenaline wearing down, you felt as exhausted as she looked. Leaning back against the table leg, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, your body relaxing as your apprehension lessened little by little.

You took a couple of moments to mentally catch up to what just happened, processing the sheer craziness of it all. Your brain was brimming with questions. Who was she? Who hurt her? Why didn’t she get professional help? They were on the tip of your tongue. But the woman passed out before you had the chance to ask her anything.

With tremulous hands, you cleaned the store for the second time that evening, wiping up blood from the floor, the chair, and the table. You discarded the rags with the rest of the used supplies. All the while, you checked on her multiple times, unable to shake the fear she might die right then and there. She looked unnaturally pale, but her pulse continued to drum rhythmically, her chest kept rising and falling with every breath she took.

What now? Should you call the cops? The hospital? She seemed pretty set on not getting any authorities involved. Perhaps with good reason?

You resolved to find out tomorrow, hoping you would not grow to regret it. Slinging one of her arms over your shoulder, you lifted her up and carried her bridal style, mindful of her injury. She wasn't too heavy, but you still were glad you had had the foresight to park your car nearby. After making sure she was safely strapped into the passenger seat, you went back and finally closed up the shop.

________________________________________________________________

The next morning, you were woken up by some clattering sounds coming from your living room. With a groan, you forced yourself out of your bed and stumbled through the door into the next room. The redhead was walking around in the dim light, rummaging through your drawers and dropping things left and right. You watched, for a moment, too perplexed to say anything as you rubbed your eyes tiredly.

“Shouldn’t you be resting or something?” you ask, voice rough from sleep. It was still way too early to be awake. You had thought the pain killers would help her sleep for a couple of hours more. Looks like you were wrong.

“Later,” she muttered just loud enough for you to hear. Crouching down, she opened the bottom drawer of the tv cabinet and pulled out some DVDs you had stored there, only pausing to look at the title of one of them with a smirk.

“Is this not a kids' movie?”

You had no idea what she was looking at, but you crossed your arms, feeling a bit offended anyway. Blame your lack of sleep for making you a little sensitive.

“Do you make it a habit to judge the movie taste of people who were gracious enough to let you stay in their home overnight?”

The woman didn’t answer verbally, just put the movie back and closed the drawer again. She turned to face you, her expression turning serious all of a sudden as if only now remembering where she was and how she got here in the first place. She looked apprehensive, taking a couple of steps in your direction.

“Does anyone else know I’m here?” her voice conveyed a sense of urgency, eyes staring into yours imploringly. Confused, you just shook your head.

Her shoulders relaxed a little.

“Good,” she nodded, her attention already returning to her little scavenger hunt.

The redhead walked across the room, sifting through your kitchen cabinet next.

You sighed, picking up a couple of things she had knocked over in the living room and putting them back in their proper place. Every few seconds, you would glance at her from afar. She was still wearing the outfit she had on when she came into the drugstore. With her unconscious, you hadn’t seen any way of getting her into some new clothes, at least not without possibly irritating her wound or waking her up. She could surely use something clean to wear. Her current attire was dirtied and bloody, not to mention that her shirt now looked like a makeshift crop top since she had cut off parts of it last night.

“You know, if you just told me what you’re looking for you wouldn’t have to make such a mess of my apartment,” you winced as one of your spice shakers fell out of the cupboard and landed on the stove just as you finished speaking. Luckily, nothing broke.

The woman paused mid-motion, still on her tiptoes, body halfway turned towards you.

“A radio. An old one preferably.”

Frowning, you picked up and folded the blanket she had discarded on the floor in front of your couch.

“What for?”

The redhead eyed you for a moment, hesitant and unsure whether you could be trusted. In the end, she kept quiet, ruling against explaining herself. You reluctantly accepted her decision, tossing the folded blanket back on the couch cushion in resignation.

“I should have an old radio alarm clock somewhere in my wardrobe. Will that do?”

It took you a couple of minutes to find the old thing, hidden away in the very back of your closet, underneath some clothes you hadn’t worn in forever. When you returned to the living room, your visitor was leaning against the kitchen isle, nibbling on one of your pop tarts which she abandoned as soon as she saw you. Eagerly she took the alarm clock off your hands, acknowledging you with a grateful nod. The redhead sat down on the couch, plugging the device into the closest outlet.

You more or less kept an eye on her while you made yourself some coffee, but you had no idea what she was doing. To you, it looked like she was just fiddling with the controls, only static and a couple of high-pitched sounds filling the living room. It was grating on your nerves, but you made no comment. By the time she finished and turned the radio off again, you were already on your second cup.

“Are you expecting any visitors in the next couple of days?” she asked casually, sidling up next to you in the kitchen.

You raised an eyebrow, placing your empty cup in the sink.

“No. Why?”

“I need a place to lay low until Tuesday.”

“Lay low?” you parroted, “What for? Who are you hiding from?”

Subconsciously, she glanced down at her bandaged wound, and you followed her gaze, slow realization coming over you.

“Did they do that to you? Did they hurt you?” you asked more softly. She only shook her head in confirmation, “Then why not just go to the police? I’m sure they can help you better than I c-"

“No,” she cut you off immediately, gripping your wrists tightly in both her hands as if to physically keep you from taking your phone and calling the cops. This only made you grow more concerned.

“No. We can’t go to the police. It’s not safe,” she loosened her grip on you a little.

Your eyebrows were drawn together as you thought about what she said.

“Why would it not be safe? Unless...,” you swallowed as a possibility crossed your mind, “Are you in trouble? Did you do something illegal?”

When she didn’t immediatley deny your statement, you started to jump to conclusions, your voice rising with panic.

“Oh, shit! You did. What was it? Were you in a fight? Did you kill someone? Holy shi- Does helping you make me an accomplice? Am I harboring a criminal in my ho-”

She cut off your rant by slapping a hand over your mouth, thus muffling your words.

“Be quiet, your neighbors might hear,” she hissed, gaze darting to the door, almost like she expected someone to burst through it.

Your eyes were wide in fear, but you listened to her, your heart racing. She slowly removed her hand, giving you a warning look as though she feared you would start talking again. You didn’t.

“I’m not a criminal,” she told you earnestly, “I am, however, on the run, so I would appreciate your discretion.”

“On the run from whom?”

The question was no more than a whisper, too scared to raise the volume of your voice. She held your gaze for a moment before shaking her head.

“I’m afraid that’s classified.”

“Classified,” you repeated, incredulous, “So let me get this straight. You show up at my job, bleeding all over the place and telling me not to call the authorities. I help you out, let you crash at my place and you, in return, wake me up at an ungodly hour, make a big mess of my living room, imply that you might have done something illegal, and expect me to let you stay here until Tuesday without getting any information whatsoever?”

“I know this isn’t fair...,” she admitted, and you laugh humorlessly.

“Not fair? I would be crazy to agree without at least having an idea what I’m getting myself into.”

The redhead nodded in agreement, looking away guiltily, teeth biting down on her lips. She seemed genuinely beat down, something even you, as a stranger, could tell was foreign to her. Oddly enough, you felt bad, although you knew, realistically, that you had done nothing wrong.

You let out a weary sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. Curse your empathetic heart.

“Three conditions,” you conceded, making her look at you in surprise. Holding up a finger, you started your list.

“One. No more throwing my stuff around. If you need something, ask. I don’t want to have to clean up after you.”

She nods, having the decency to actually look sorry this time. You put up a second finger.

“Two. You tell me your name. Doesn’t have to be your full name or even your real name if that’s a secret or whatever," you added with an indifferent shrug, "I just want something other to call you than ‘hey you’.”

“What’s the third condition?” she prompted, not commenting on the second one.

“You promise me that you’re not the bad guy in this situation and that helping you won’t land me in trouble somehow.”

The redhead cocked her head to the side, an almost fascinated expression on her face.

“How would you know I’m telling the truth?”

“I don’t,” you countered without hesitation, “I’m just gonna have to trust your word here. Just as you will have to trust mine that I’ll keep your presence here a secret.”

For a moment, she regarded you with some indescribable emotion on her face before nodding in concession. Letting go of the one wrist she was still holding, she took a step back. Caught up in the moment, you hadn’t even realized how close you were standing. Thinking about it now made your face heat up for some reason. The redhead raised one hand as though she was about to take an official oath. She held your gaze unwaveringly as she spoke.

“I promise you, that I will not make a mess in your home anymore. And I solemnly swear that you won’t get in trouble for helping me in any way whatsoever.”

Something about her demeanor told you she wasn’t lying. You shake your head satisfied, a small but relieved smile taking over, some of the tension and apprehension leaving your body. She smiled tentatively in return, extending her hand to you in greeting.

“The name’s Natasha.”

Glancing at her proffered hand, you took it and gave it a small shake.

“Nice to officially meet you, Natasha.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #reader insert #marvel fanfiction #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader

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fandomfix13 · 3 years

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Should've Been You - JJ Maybank X Reader

Should’ve Been You - JJ Maybank X Reader

Y/N finds herself in a rough situation with Rafe and JJ steps in and makes Y/N realize it should’ve been JJ all along

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Slight violence in relationships, Lots of swearing, underage drinking (pls be safe!), Some pretty cute fluff

FIRST THING I'M POSTING SO GO EASY ON ME! I'M WORKING ON REQUESTS AS WE SPEAK!

XOXO

_____________________________________________________________

You sat in the kitchen with Sarah and John B while you waited for Rafe to finish getting ready. It had been 45 minutes since you had first sat down with them, and Rafe still seemed to be taking his sweet ass time.

“Jesus, I thought I took forever to get ready.” Sarah huffed as she sat back and entangled herself in John B’s arms. You loved how comfortable and cute they were with each other. It had been a long time since you felt that way with Rafe. It’s not that you were necessarily uncomfortable with Rafe, but things didn’t feel the same as they used too. “Guys thanks for waiting with me, but you guys should really get going, I don’t want us to make you late.” you said as you saw the time. “Are you sure? We can wait, I'm sure he’ll be done soon.” Sarah said.

You shot John B a look that said ‘go’ without having to say it. “Yeah, Sarah she's right we really should get going.” he says as he takes her hand to stand up. You mouthed a quick ‘thank you’ to John B and he nodded in return as you walked toward the couch. As the two of them walked out the door, John B slipped back in telling Sarah he ‘forgot something’.

“Hey are you gonna be okay?” He said walking over to you on the couch. “Yeah! Why wouldn’t I be?” you said in a tone that was too rushed and sounded nervous. “Because I’ve known you since you were six years old and that look that you gave me was your ‘get the hell out’ look” he laughed. “I don’t have a ‘get the hell out’ look!” you mocked him. “Oh you absolutely do and you gave it to me. Is everything okay? With you and Rafe?” He knew you too well, there was no hiding anything from him. “Yeah. He’s just….being Rafe.” you shrugged not feeling the need to go into detail. “Y/n?” he said sitting down next to you. “John B?” you returned not giving him the satisfaction of knowing what's on your mind. “You’re not gonna budge are you?” he said, looking right at you. “Not even a little.You really need to get going. You wouldn’t want to miss you and Sarah’s big entrance would you?” You said walking toward the door with John B following close behind you, you turned around to see John B giving you his ‘tell me what’s going on’ look. You opened the door once again telling him to leave. This time he had accepted his fate and walked out the door. “If you need anything, we’re all gonna be there tonight. Okay?” he quickly added. “Okaaayy.” you sighed, “now go!”

You closed the door and started walking back to the couch when you heard the sound of Rafe’s bedroom door open. As he came down the stairs you noticed something wasn’t right which in the moment you chose to ignore. That was until he came up from behind you in the kitchen and wrapped his arms around you and started kissing your neck. You didn’t mind that kind of attention but this wasn’t like him. You could smell the alcohol on his breath and as you turned to confront him about it you saw his eyes. They were glossed over and dilated. His hands were shaking on your waist and there was residue of white powder under his nose. “Next time? You might want to look in fucking mirror after you snort coke off your bathroom counter.” You said with the calmest tone you could possibly have at the moment.

He rolled his eyes at you and turned around walking towards the door to leave. “Rafe we talked about this!” you yelled after him “No! YOU talked about this. I just sat there while you ran your mouth as usual!” He stopped in his tracks to turn around and yell right back. “You know how important tonight is! Could you not even have the decency to show up sober and get fucked up later?!” You hated when he got like this. So messed up that he was an asshole to everyone and anyone is his presence including you. “Tonight is important for my DAD! It’s not important to me! He probably doesn’t even want me there! Sarah’s there, that's all he cares about. So sue me for wanting to show up already gone.” part of you felt bad for him in a way. It hurt to see him struggle, but it also hurt to fight him on it. “Rafe we need to go. We are going to miss our entrance which is just going to piss your dad off more.” you tried to be calm. “Oh right, our entrance! Yeah I’m sure that everyone is going to be so thrilled to see me walk in with a fucking pogue!” he said in such a demeaning tone that you hadn’t heard before. You were taken aback by the words that just came out of his mouth. You always had a thought in the back of your mind that Raph didn’t like that you hung around with the pogues, but you never expected him to really say it. “Wow. Okay. Um. I’m not doing this with you right now. We have a party to get to.” You say making your way to walk past him and out the door. He tried to stop you by reaching out for your arm but you quickly pulled away. “Y/n wait.” “Don’t fucking touch me right now. We need to leave.”

As you arrived at the event you plastered on the biggest smile you could as you held Rafe’s hand and walked in greeting all the guests that approached the two of you. Old teachers, business owners and their plastic wives, old friends. All people that you truly did not care too see. You looked around the crowded room for any one of your friends to appear to provide you with a sense of normalcy. You spotted Kie standing with her parents also shaking hands with people she clearly had no interest in seeing. JJ was waiting for the guests. Pope was helping his dad with the food. John B and Sarah were outside secluding themselves from the socialite society that was this room, and you were standing hand in hand with Rafe who just 15 minutes ago was throwing insults at you.

You walked outside to John B and Sarah who were talking about how ridiculous some of the guests look in their outfits. “Hey if you two get to hide out here, so do I” You say approaching them from behind. “Trouble in paradise?” John B said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “Just needed some air. The overwhelming smell of chanel number five and expensive champagne was starting to give me a headache.” You said only slightly joking. You all shared a laugh and you made your over to stand with your friends. “Drinks?” Sarah asked. You and John B both nodded without hesitation. “I’ll be right back” she said as she walked off the porch. “So.” John B said slowly turning his head towards you. “So.” you replied. “What are you really doing out here?” he said knowing that the excuse you gave was only half true. “Rafe just said some shit to me about being a pogue before we left.” you admitted. “I’m sorry, are you surprised?” he said with an attitude. “John B please don't be an asshole right now.” “Alright, okay I’m sorry. He didn’t... hurt you did he?” he said with concern in his voice. “No. He wouldn’t. He can be a dick I’ll admit, but he wouldn’t hurt me.” As you said this Sarah approached the two of you once again holding three beers. You sit there just the three of you, for a good 15 minutes before you thought you should probably go find Rafe. Not that he wanted to be seen with a pogue, but you should at least pretend like you weren’t beyond pissed at him.

As you walked through the crowded room saying your ‘hello’s’ here and there you realized Rafe was nowhere to be found. Your first thought was maybe he left. But then you realized that he wouldn’t leave a party that had so much alcohol and access to expensive drugs. You walked past JJ who was carrying a tray of champagne. “Hey J, have you seen Rafe?” you said following in his trail of champagne drop offs. “I try to never see him at all, so no I have not.” he said in his usual smart ass tone. “Ok. What about Topper?” he laughed “Considering I put a gun to his head I absolutely make it a point to not see him either.” you opened your mouth to speak again and he cut you off “Don’t ask about Kelce either. I haven’t seen them around anywhere. My guess is that they are in the bathroom making bets on who goes home with the hottest girl tonight.” You rolled your eyes at him and walked to the hallway where the bathrooms were. It was empty. While there was nobody in sight, you could hear the boys in the locker room.

Just as you decided to walk away, Topper stumbled out of the locker room. To say you were surprised to see him obviously fucked up would be a lie. You tried to quickly walk the other way so he wouldn’t see you, but you weren’t fast enough. “Were you stalking us Y/n?” Slurred Topper. God they sucked when they got like this. “Stalking you? Please. I have better things to do than stalk you. I was just looking for Rafe.” you said trying to ignore Topper’s attitude. “Rafe! Your pogue princess is out here lurking in the hallway waiting for you!” he yelled back into the locker room. You rolled your eyes at Topper’s label he put on you and waited for Rafe to come out of the locker room. He appeared almost instantly looking even worse than he did before. He was sweating, from the amount of alcohol in his system, and his eyes were beyond bloodshot.

“Jesus Rafe you look like shit. I left you for 15 fucking minutes! You look like you just went on a 3 day bender.” you spat out at him as he walked towards you. “And what are you gonna do about it?” He said cornering you. “I’m going home.” you said as you brushed past him. He grabbed your hand, harder than he tried to back at the house. “Oh come on Y/n, I’m just having a little fun. Don’t you wanna have fun?” he pulled you close to him whispering in your ear as he talked. “Fun? No. This isn’t fun. YOU aren’t fun when you’re like this.” you said trying to escape the tight grip he had on you. “Let go Rafe.” you said calmly. He started backing you up into the corner again, this time with a look in his eyes that you had never seen before. “You don’t want to have fun with me?” He said as he started to kiss your neck. “Rafe. Stop. We aren’t doing this here.” your voice was shaky. The way Rafe was acting was scary. All you could think about was all the warnings your friends tried to give you that you just ignored. Rafe was still nipping at your neck while running his hands through your hair. “Rafe get off. Im serious.” You said a little louder this time hoping that someone would hear. You could tell where this was going and you weren’t about to let that happen. “Rafe!” you yelled this time attempting to shove him off of you. As you started to shove, Rafe was pulled off of you. JJ.

“She said get off asshole!” JJ yelled as he swung at Rafe’s face. Great just what you needed. A scene at the biggest most formal party of the year. Rafe was not one to be messed with especially in the state he was in. Then again, neither was JJ. “JJ! Don’t!” you yelled really not wanting to see either one of them get hurt. Rafe swung back at JJ, and he swung hard. Fists were flying all over the place. JJ’s nose was bleeding, Rafe’s eye was swollen, but they just kept going. You knew that you should honestly just let them hash it out, but if you let them continue, one of them was really going to hurt. Plus, knowing JJ, he could’ve had the gun with him. “Guys! Stop! Please don’t do this!” as you stepped in in attempts to break up the fight, you felt Rafe’s elbow come in direct contact with your eye. “Holy shit! Y/n I didn’t-” rafe stopped as he was cut off by another punch to the jaw from JJ. “Do you feel like a big boy! Do you feel good now that you just gave her a black eye?! Fuck you bro! Fuck-” “JJ! STOP! I’m fine really. I swear just stop.” you yelled interjecting once again. The rage in JJ’s eyes was something you’d only seen in movies. “Jj look at me.” you tried getting him to look at you so you could break him out of the state of aggression he was in. Rafe stood back in shock that he really just hit you. It may have been an accident, but it wasn’t something that you were going to forget. JJ was right, you were most definitely going to have a black eye. “Jj.” you grabbed his hand and he directed his attention towards you as you pulled him away from Rafe.

“Y/n I really-” Rafe began as you turned around and got in his face cutting him off almost instantly. “No. You don’t get to talk to me anymore. If you would’ve just backed off when I told you too we wouldn’t be in this situation at all. You’re dangerous, and I cant do this anymore. We’re done Rafe. I’m done!” You said almost crying. You were so overwhelmed by what had just happened that your emotions were about to explode. “I’m dangerous? How about your little pogue friend over there? Huh? He put a gun to Topper’s head!” he shot back. JJ looked as if he could’ve thrown another punch at Rafe at any minute. “Well my ‘little pogue friend’ didn’t just punch me in the face did he?! You did. You got so fucked up that you couldn’t even chill out for 1 second! JJ put a gun to Topper’s head because if he didn’t you were going to let Topper drown John B. So yeah, you’re dangerous.” this time you were angry. As all the emotions ran through your body, there was no control over which ones were going to appear.

“Alright, fine! If you wanna be a bitch about this, be a bitch. I should’ve known better than to fuck around with a pogue.” he said is one of the most arrogant tones you had ever heard. You got as close as you could to Rafe so he could see the tears pooling in your eyes. You don’t know where it came from, but you raised your hand and slapped him across the face as hard as you could. JJ instantly came up from behind you and grabbed you by your waist as he pulled you back in fear that Rafe would swing for you on purpose this time. “Don’t you EVER call me a bitch EVER again, or I swear to god next time a gun is pulled on you, the trigger will be too!” you spat at him. You honestly don’t know where those words came from, but the thing that scared you is that you meant it. “Is that a threat?” Rafe said quietly as he stepped toward you. JJ pulled you back and told Rafe to back up while he whispered to you to relax. “You bet your ass it is.” JJ started walking the two of you away from Rafe as Rafe decided to speak up once again. “You’re fucking crazy!” he yelled down the hallway at you. You laughed with tears now streaming down your face. You turned around and looked him dead in the eyes. “And who’s fault do you think that is?” with that you and JJ walked out of the hallway and outside the nearest door you could find. You needed air, and you needed it fast.

JJ opened the closest door to outside that he could find and the second the cool outside air hit you, you fell to the ground and broke out into uncontrolled sobs. You always had a feeling that Rafe would end up breaking things off with the two of you but you never thought it would go down like that. JJ just stood there eyes wide. He had seen you upset before, but he had never seen you like this. You were broken. You sat there in the sand sobbing and mumbling a string of ‘oh my gods’ and ‘whys’ and you couldn’t stop. JJ kneeled down and just pulled you to his chest just holding you. He didn’t say a word, he just let you cry. The way he held you calmed you down little by little so you could at least catch your breath again. You looked up at him and gave him a little smile as he grabbed your face and you winced at the feeling of his finger resting underneath your swollen eye. “You need ice on this ASAP. I’m going to go get you some.” he said, sounding concerned as he stood up again. You nodded as he walked off but yelled out before he went inside “JJ. wait!” He stopped in his tracks and looked back at you. “If you see the others in there, please don’t say anything!” you cried. You didn’t need everyone knowing about this right now. If they knew now, they would cause a scene and ruin the night. You were going to tell them you just needed to process what the hell just happened. He nodded and went inside.

As you sat outside by yourself who just tried your hardest to breathe. Your heart was racing and you just needed to slow it down. You laid down in the sand and looked up at the stars and looked for the north star because you remembered Sarah saying “everything revolves around it” and that brought you a sense of comfort. Just as you found it JJ came back outside with ice for your eye. You sat back up and looked out at the water as he sat down next to you. He put his arm around you as you rested your head on his shoulder. The tears were still flowing but you weren’t crying anymore. The two of you sat in silence sighing back and forth. “I’m sorry for not stepping in sooner.” he said looking straight ahead. “Don’t be sorry. I’m just thankful you did.” you returned reliving the moment with Rafe in your head. His kisses on your neck were getting more aggressive, he was pulling your hair, his hands were wandering off to places that you didn’t want them to go. You started to cry again. “I was so scared JJ.” you buried your face in his shoulder once again letting small sobs out that you tried to hold back. “Shhh. I know. I know. It’s okay.” he was holding you again, his hand rubbing circles on your back. “He’s such an asshole! I feel like such an idiot! You all warned me about him! You all told me how awful he was and I just thought maybe you were wrong! I didn’t listen and I should’ve!” JJ shook his head and looked you in the eye “Hey stop. We knew he’s an asshole, that's a given, but the way he treated you tonight isn’t okay. It’s not your fault and you need to know that.” your head fell back to his shoulder and he laid his head on yours just before gently kissing your forehead.

You both just sat there in silence once again so you could catch your breath. “You know, you got pretty badass in there. That thing you said about pulling the trigger was intense.” JJ chuckled. You laughed a little at the thought of JJ thinking you were a badass. “The scary thing is, is I think I meant it.” you looked up at him. “Oh I know you meant it.” you both laughed. “You deserve better than him.” You looked up at him and slightly smiled at his comment. “I mean it. You deserve so much better. You have a lot to offer and people who can’t see that don’t deserve you.” something about this moment was different. As much as you loved JJ, you could both admit that he never said things that nice to anybody. “Thank you.” you said, smiling at him. He just nodded and looked back out at the water. “I’m sorry about all the shit I said about you and Rafe when you were with him. I should’ve just let you be happy, and for that I’m sorry.” He said, still looking out at the water. “It’s okay.” you said in awe that JJ maybank was actually apologizing for something. “No it’s not, I should have just supported you, but instead I just ran my mouth because in all honesty I was just jealous.” he rambled. “What?” you questioned. He was now looking away from you off in the distance. “I couldn’t stand seeing you with him. All I could think about was how much I wanted it to be me. Which is ridiculous and not a good reason to make you feel bad.” your heart started beating fast again, but this time in a good way. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?” you got no response. “JJ please look at me.” he looked at you and you noticed his eyes were pooled with tears. “What was I supposed to say? ‘Hey you shouldn’t be with him because you should be with me?’ I couldn’t say anything because I love you. And if I said that to you I would lose you. And that would hurt much worse than holding it in.” you looked at him in a way that you hadn’t looked at him before. He had never been this open with you about anything. There was a moment of silence before you did something you did not expect to do. You reached up and placed your hand on his cheek as you leaned in and kissed him. It was slow and sweet. It was nice. You opened your eyes to see his eyes on yours right as he kissed you back, placing his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. “It always should’ve been you.” You said before you sealed the moment with another kiss.

#jj maybank #obx fanfiction #obx x reader #obx #rudy pankow #imagine #obx imagine #one shot #fluff #rafe cameron #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #drew starkey #outer banks #john b #sarah cameron #outer banks imagine

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manonblaqkbeak · 3 years

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Friendship Rekindled

Hello, back for Day 10--single parents. This is the second part of a mini series during canon week. this is continuing off from Day 1--desperately in love. there’s going to be two more parts and i cant wait to get them out there!

i think this could be considered a little angsty, given some of the conversation topics that happen.

cw: brief mention of death and blood loss. mention of an abusive parent. (if i miss any, pls dont hesitate to let me know!)

enjoy! :)

2.9k words (my longest fic yet i believe)

It was nice to be finally out of the house, Aelin decided as she walked up to the nursery, her five month old daughter, Olive, strapped to her chest. After being cooped up for what felt like the last five months, Aelin had decided to liven up her apartment with some plants.

Hardy, un-killable plants, that is. Being a single mother didn't leave her much time to look after other things, so she needed some plants that required minimal water, but also had to be pretty to look at.

It was also a plus that there was a cafe attached to the nursery, and she heard that they served the best scones with homemade strawberry jam and cream in Orynth. All her life she had never come here, but she needed somewhere new to visit. And to reacquaint herself with her home town. Not long after Rowan and Lyria's wedding, Aelin had transferred to Rifthold for work, and had used the miles apart to quietly disappear from their lives.

That was four years ago now, and come back home to be closer to her parents. Aelin had never known her grandparents, and Aelin didn't want to deny her parents the privilege of knowing Olive, so she had transferred back just before she went on maternity leave. Aelin was happy to be back, especially since she hadn't seen Rowan or Lyria. The last she heard was from Elide, who got it from Lorcan, that a year after marriage, they were expecting. She was happy for them, she truly was, but that didn't stop the stab of pain she felt when she heard the news. She had dreamt of her being in Lyria's position for a few weeks after she heard the news, but forced herself to stop. To move on.

Aelin had, in a way. She would always love Rowan, but she needed to move on. It was wrong to consider her daughter a distraction, but she did provide the perfect one. Aelin briefly removed her lemon printed bucket-hat (Aelin wore a matching one) to kiss her head, her golden hair sparse, laughing her perfect baby laugh.

Aelin finally entered the nursery, tugging her nappy bag higher on her shoulder as she took in the hundreds of plants. She had no idea where to start, but started her browse. She slowly walked through the fern section, stopping every now and then to let Olive touch one, making the cute hand grabbing motion when she saw one she liked.

Aelin heard the laughter of a young child behind her, and then a deep and familiar one accompany it.

Aelin froze. It couldn't be. Surely the Gods weren't that cruel. Months she had been here, for the first time in ages she had decided to do something for herself, only to be met by that damned laughter.

Slowly she turned, her sandals making the gravel underneath crunch. She saw a flash of silver and a broad body.

Turning around had been a mistake, because when she did, so did the silver-haired man.

And for the first time in four years, turquoise eyes landed on pine-green ones.

Rowan blinked, and then blinked again as he took her in. His eyes widened as he noticed Olive strapped to her body, her face on display as she took in her surroundings. Her baby had the chocolate brown eyes of her father, but it was clear to anyone that knew Aelin that Olive was hers. Her daughter had Aelin's nose and hair colour, and would likely grow to have more of Aelin's features as the years went by.

Behind Rowan, his cousin Enda was holding the hand of a brown-haired boy. It was difficult to tell his exact age, but he looked to be about three. If Rowan was here with his son, then it was a good chance that Lyria would be here, too. The woman was a flower enthusiast, and was practically a walking encyclopedia when it came to flowers. Any questions anyone had, they went to Lyria.

Aelin really did not want to be here. Did not want to have that conversation of why the hell she had left and dropped all communication with them after the wedding.

Aelin hated it, but she adverted her gaze and started to leave. She would have to come here another day—maybe after she called the office to make sure that there was no silver-haired man in attendance.

“Aelin,” Rowan said, his voice raspy from surprise. Gods, she missed his deep voice and the rolling purr of his accent.

Aelin pretended that she didn't hear and made a beeline for the exit. Rowan called her again, and then a third time. Just as she reached the gate, his warm hand landed on her shoulder gently. His hands were still calloused, his hands always doing some type of manual labour work. She wondered briefly if he was still an auto mechanic.

Turning around, Aelin noted the shock in his dark eyes. She gave him a weak smile, not sure what to say.

“What are you—I mean, how are you? Where have you been?”

“I'm good,” Aelin answered after a moment, not really sure how else to respond. “I've been around. What about you?” Somehow, these questions didn't feel like the right ones to ask. Before Rowan could say anything, Olive made herself known, making grunting sounds that meant she wanted attention, so Aelin kissed her hand and said to Rowan, “This is Olive.”

Rowan's eyes dropped down to Olive. “Is she yours?”

Aelin snorted, a sound she hadn't made in so long. It was something she often did around Rowan—or used to, that is. “No, I bought her from the store. Yes, she's mine.”

Rowan's eyes dropped lower, to her ring finger—her empty ring finger. There had never been a ring there. Aelin's traitorous eyes drifted to Rowan's and her heart stopped when she noticed that his ring finger was bare as well—that there was no tan line to suggest that he had only recently removed it.

“I'm doing this on my own,” Aelin found herself saying after a moment.

“As am I,” Rowan said. Aelin cocked her head to the side, annoyed at herself for being curious. “Lyria...Lyria passed away three years ago.”

Aelin's heart shot up to her throat, choking her. Years ago, Aelin had horribly wished that the ring Rowan had purchased was secretly for her and was heartbroken when it wasn't. In her loneliest moments, she had wished that Rowan and Lyria would break up and somehow find his way to her in Rifthold; but never, never-ever in a million years would she ever have wanted this to happen.

Why the hell hadn't Elide told her? Or anyone else for that matter?

Aelin found her voice after long minutes of just staring at him, processing his words. “Rowan, I am so rutting sorry. I had no idea. Are you...are you okay?”

“I have my good and bad days”. He pointed to the brown-haired boy with Enda, who were both busy inspecting each leaf and flower petal in front of them. “That's Egan, he's a plant lover like his mother.”

Aelin couldn't really see him, but she still said, “He's adorable.”

“He is, and a little terror,” Rowan said, a small smile on his tanned face. After a moment, he turned back to her, and asked, “Are you...doing anything? I'd like to talk, it's been a long time since we have.”

She should say no, but she ended up saying yes.

Taking a deep breath, she followed Rowan back inside the nursery and to the cafe.

X X X X X X

It was turning out to be an ordinary Saturday when Rowan had needed to get out of the house, so he asked Egan if he wanted to go to the nursery and his son had enthusiastically agreed, asking if Uncle Enda could join them. Thankfully, his cousin was free and more than happy to spend time with his nephew.

Never in a million years did he think he would run into Aelin. He had heard the rumours that she transferred back to the publishing house and that was it; there was no mention of her being pregnant. But when Rowan looked up and spotted Aelin, and his eyes immediately dropped to the baby strapped to her chest, his heart had stopped.

He had once wished to have that life with Aelin, exploring the world with their child, one that had Aelin's hair and his eyes; but Rowan never told Aelin how he felt because he knew how badly her last relationship ended, and he didn't want to put any unnecessary stress on her if she didn't feel the same way. Didn't want there to be any chance to ruin their friendship.

And so, he had moved on. Had started dating Lyria and came to love her, but not the same way as he loved Aelin. And when Rowan proposed, he had only done it because his parents were getting older and wanted him to get married, wanted him to have a grandchild.

It was cruel irony that they had both died before Lyria had even given birth.

He was bastard, and he hated himself. Lyria was kind, sweet and gentle—and deserved someone better than him, should have been with a man that truly wanted to marry her for her and not because of family pressures. But he never stopped himself from their relationship moving forward.

But he was doing better, thanks to therapy, because while he may have been a bastard, he didn't want his son to know that. Maybe it made him a bastard to hide this part of himself to his son, but his son was gentle like his mother and Rowan loathed the idea of Egan growing up to hate him.

And as Rowan asked Enda to take Egan home, Rowan could see that Enda thought that this lunch was a bad idea—Rowan had confessed his secrets to his cousin long ago, how he loved Aelin even when he was married to Lyria. How he had wanted that life with her instead.

Rowan knew that he was going to be on the end of a scolding conversation when he got back to his house, but he told Enda that it was going to be okay and that he was fine and could handle this.

Enda sighed heavily through his nose and muttered a 'good luck' under his breath. Rowan planted a kiss of Egan's head and told him that he would be home soon. His son was too excited to spend time with his Uncle to really notice.

When Rowan returned to Aelin's side, they soon found a nice spot in the cafe that was away from others.

It was...painfully awkward for a good while. They only spoke to order their food—scones with jam and cream with a side dish of seasonal fruits for Aelin, and a steak sandwich with fries for Rowan—and then lapsed back into silence.

They ate in silence, too, and Rowan wondered if maybe this was a tremendously bad idea when Aelin said, softly but not weakly, “What happened to Lyria?”

Taking a deep breath, Rowan swirled his fries in the mustard on his plate. He hated this part. “She passed away not long after giving birth. She hemorrhaged and bleed out too quickly for anything to be done. Egan never really got to meet her.”

“I'm sorry,” Aelin said, doing her best to speak over the lump in her throat, “that's horrible. I'm so sorry.”

Years later and Rowan still never really knew what to say to that. Needing to distract himself, he asked, “So, what's your story?”

Before she could say anything, Olive started crying, and without a seconds hesitation, Aelin started feeding her. Some people stared in disapproval and Aelin stared right back, unflinching. He knew that if someone said something, she would spit back. It never made sense to Rowan how people frowned upon breastfeeding. A small smile made its way to Rowan's mouth at the steely look in her stunning eyes. That was the Aelin he knew and loved.

When the strangers turned back around, Aelin looked back at him, the steel in her eyes softening. “I briefly dated my high school boyfriend, Sam, for a while back in Rifthold, and well...the condom broke and Olive made her appearance.” Not the most elegant way to describe the situation, but Aelin figured she had years to think of a better way to explain Olive's appearance if her daughter ever asked.

“And he wants no part of it?” He had no right to ask, but the question left his mouth before he could stop it.

Aelin sighed, and finished feeding Olive and cleaning themselves up before responding. “It's complicated...Sam's father, Arobynn, is a cruel man. He's manipulative and sadistic, but knows how to turn on the charm when it suits him. Sam has been scared of him his entire life, and didn't want Olive to know the fear that he did. So, every month Sam sends money, but he's not on the birth certificate—he doesn't want there to be any paper trails leading to Olive's existence. I had to convince him that it was safer to transfer me the money than to send it through the mail. I send him pictures from time to time, but whether he saves them, I have no idea.” Not to mention the miserable length of the conversation of sending money electronically. Sam was so damned paranoid that Arobynn checked his accounts that Aelin had almost told him not to bother to send anything when he relented. Aelin could provide Olive well enough on her own, but it was helpful to have that extra bit of cash—baby things were expensive as hell.

Aelin bit her lip. She hadn't meant to divulge that much, no one knew that, not even her best friends, but she didn't regret it. It felt...like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

“That's awful, Aelin, I'm sorry to hear that.”

“I just...” She probably shouldn't ask, but out of everyone she knew, none of them were single parents. “Has Egan ever asked about his mother? What do you say to that?”

“He's asked a few times, and I've told him that she passed away when he was little, but I don't think he fully understands what I'm talking about.” Those conversations were the hardest that he ever had to go through, and he knew it would be worst when Egan grew and fully understood what death meant.

“I have no idea what I'll tell Olive when she's older and asks about her dad,” Aelin admitted. “It's not like he's gone, but he is absent and I just...what if she grows up to think he hates her? I think that would kill me if she ever thought that.”

Without thinking, Rowan reached over and too her hand in his. Her hand was soft in his, and he swiped his thumb against her knuckles. “You have a good few years to worry about that. Who knows,” he added, “maybe Sam will be able to get out from his father's shadows and you three can be a family.”

A small smile made its way to Aelin's face. She was more beautiful then he remembered, and he wasn't sure if he should feel guilty for thinking that.

“I like the sound of that, but I'm not going to get my hopes up. I'd like to think that I can do this on my own.”

“You can, but if you'd like...if you ever need help with something, if you need someone to look after Olive, I could do that for you.”

Silver lined Aelin's eyes as she watched him. “Are you sure? I wouldn't want to intrude.”

“That's what friends are for, aren't they? To help?” And as a single parent himself, he knew how hard it could be raising a child in this hectic world.

Aelin's smile grew. “Okay, I'll keep that in mind. And if we're friends, could you help me find some plants? I'm sick of looking at my boring walls.”

“Okay, I know the perfect ones for you to get—ones that are practically impossible to kill.”

“I'm going to ignore that implication that I can't look after a plant.” Although it was true.

Rowan snorted. “Because you can't. I remember that poor aloe Vera plant that you slaughtered.”

Aelin narrowed her eyes, but he could see just a hint of mirth behind the glare. “I did not slaughter that plant, it just didn't like me!”

Rowan laughed and it was the most freeing sound he made in a long time. After he calmed down, he said, “Come on, let's finish here and I'll help you to liven up your place.”

“Fine, but I better not hear anything about my poor gardening skills or I'll let down your tires.” And she would, he knew, but Rowan just smiled even more.

“It's a deal.”

The conversation moved much more smoothly and Rowan realised how much he missed her. And Aelin realised how much she missed him, too.

Maybe things wouldn't be too bad after-all. It would be nice to have Rowan in her life again, even as a friend, even if she still loved him and knew it could never be, not after everything.

#rowaelin #rowaelinmonth #my work

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dilfwaynes · 3 years

Note

hi!! can i request a hc of the batfam reaction of their eastasian!reader gf experiencing racism? thank you <33

just a reminder if you took place in any involvement of asian hate block me rn bitch :)

a/n: i hope you enjoyed this anon, i tried to make it accurate without stepping over any boundaries since im not asian myself. if anyone finds any sort of this offensive pls dm me !!

warning ; racism, batfam beating hoes, mention of blood

parings : bruce wayne x asian!reader, jason tood x asian!reader, dick grayson x asian!reader, stephanie brown x asian!reader, tim drake x asian!reader, damian wayne x asian!reader

BRUCE WAYNE:

it’ll honestly take a minute for bruce to realize what happened

when first entering the store he took notice of the man glaring but brushed it off thinking it was directed towards him as bruce wayne

you however didnt really pay attention to the dirty looks being thrown at you

with bruce excusing himself to the restroom and makes a promise of a quick return, you wander around the area by yourself

it was all fine until a man approaches you, giving a fast glance at him before turning away. there was definitely something up with him

“you don’t belong here”

your head shot up at his words, looking around you to make sure he was talking to you

“excuse me?” you lift an eyebrow at him, knowing what he was hinting at

“you fucking heard me, you don’t belong here. go back to your country.”

you inch away as he steps closer,”you better back the fuck away..”

he simply gives a smug face only coming closer,”or what?” you tighten your jaw when he loosely lets out a slur, your fists clenched.

“or i dislocate your arm.”bruce’s voice rings out, deep in anger as his eyes flicker to you and scanning to see if you were ok physically.

the ugly bitch’s face pales when he realizes who’s your boyfriend. without hesitation bruce yanks him away from you, slamming him to the wall

demanding for a first and last name, squeezing his neck when the guy stays quiet

shaking he gives in and tells, flinching when bruce slams him against the wall one last time before dropping him

“i guaranteed whatever poor status you do contain i’ll tear it completely, say goodbye to your job.” he grabs for your hand and brings you into him as you both walk away.

“i’m sorry i shouldn’t have left you alone, my fault,”he presses a kiss to your temple.”and please don’t think any worth of that garbage’s words.”

you shake your head,”he was just some lowlife, not worth thinking about.” you reply leaning into him.

he looked at you and could tell no matter what those words still hurt somewhat and it angered him to no end

no one deserved to hear that disgusting shit, especially not his girlfriend.

his eyes hardens but doesn’t push further to make you anymore uncomfortable than you probably already are

giving another kiss to the side of your head he makes a quiet promise to himself not to leave you alone anymore in public with disgusting people like that around

jason todd:

as soon as the slur leaves the guy’s lips jason’s fist collides to his jaw, no doubt shattering it

you and jason were grabbing lunch at some restaurant slash bar since it was the first time in a few days jason was free

everything was okay until you got up to go to the bathroom and some guy bumped into you

jason watched with hardening eyes as you apologize instead of the guy who slammed into you

“watch where the fuck you’re going at.”

you fall shock at the word, staying in place

while jason is on his feet in no time, swinging to the asshole’s face

screams were heard as well as the sound of bones breaking from his fist impact, the guy stumbling to the floor

“you racist fucking prick that’s my girlfriend you ugly fuck,”lifting him by his shirt he grabs his face and turns him to you.”apologize to her before i break your fucking face.”

he quickly rambles apologizes, crying in fear or pain. most likely a mix of both

jaaon lets him go and gives him another punch, this time to the nose. finding satisfaction at the pool of blood now seeping out

jason grabs your hand and starts to lead you outside,”let’s go eat somewhere else and forget about this shithole.”

you barely had time to give a reaction to anything as everything happened so fast

“hey look at me, don’t listen to that worthless fuck and his fucked up mindset. i dont know what to say to comfort you since i never experienced anything like this.” he stops at the car, placing his hands onto your shoulders

you nod sighing lightly, you only wanted a simple lunch with your boyfriend but instead got hate crime for simply breathing.

“it’s nothing i haven’t gone through before,”he shakes his head blue eyes filling up with rage.

“no one’s gonna be doing that anymore, or at least getting away with it while i’m around

DICK GRAYSON:

he was completely taken by surmise at the slur being thrown at you, as well as the fault of you being the root of the covid 19

but before he had any time to react you were already on your feet glaring,”the fuck you just called me you piece shit.”

before he could reply you already kneed him and punched him between the eyes, dick laughing at the cries of pain

“you want me to take over or you wanna handle it babe?”

even how badly he wanted to beat the shit out of the pos the choice was yours

you denied and wanted to handle this on your own

but everytime the guy tried to get up dick would just shake his head and tell him to stay down, or simply push him back down

eventually if you start going too far richards would pull you away and tell you hes not worth it

he understands your anger but he doesn’t want you to past a line you won’t recover from bc of some worthless grime

“c’mon, he’s not worth anymore of our time. lets go eat pizza.”

DAMIAN WAYNE:

swing first talk later

he’ll just look at guy for a few seconds with a blank face

then he’s literally knocking them out

will probably kick him into the wall or ground

u dont know if you wanna pull him away because you already the tabloids, or if you wanna let him continue to beating the guy

damian probably wouldn’t realize how much he beat the guy to a pulp until you’re tugging him away

nudging his neck with to your nose to try and calm him down

he’ll end the fight with spitting on him tbh

your face reddens with anger when your eyes met the racist bitch, enjoying the view of his blood on the floor

“racist piece of shit,” he hisses before finally turning his back brow still frowning with anger

unlike the others (mentioned) he also knows and experienced racism and understands your point view way more

and know bow to comfort you better tbh

afterwards he’ll talk to you and comfort you, as well as opening up about his racist encounters, as well as his mothers.

if you’re still upset about what happened some hours later he 100% offers to beat up the guy again

you laugh it off cos hes serious about doing detective work, finding the guy and beating him to a pulp

you thank him but deny his offer and settle to confiding into him and just telling him how your feelings

STEPHANIE BROWN:

“are you fucking serious right now bitch?”

steph deadpans staring at the girl who called you the slur with ease, going on about how you were the cause of corona and to go back to your country

shocked at the words, hearing all of this before but it still doesn’t fail everytime you hear them

turning to you and seeing the hurt on your face from the word, she quickly turns to seeing red

without a second thought she grabs the collar of the woman’s shirt

“you’re gonna fucking apologize to my girlfriend right now or i’m gonna slam your face into the floor and break it

you stay still, pleased at watching the girl shake in fear under steph as she chokes out a mesh of a shit rushed apologizes

stephanie throws her down to the ground after her third apologize

“are you okay?” she knew you weren’t but asking the question would lead into the stage of comforting you

you nod but go on to tell her that this isn’t the first or last time this will happen, but it still never fails to shock you

she frowns at your experiences and doesn’t quite know what to do to help since she never went thru anything like that

she offers to take you to your favorite restaurant and end the day in wayne manor watching whatever you wanted

smiling when you accept, pulling you in her and pressing a kiss on-top of your head

“dont worry i’ll beat any jackass that pulls any racist shit.”

TIM DRAKE:

i think he’ll be the less violent one out of everyone

he would honestly be so disgusted and gross out at humanity and how the woman thinks shes superior just because she’s white

if it was a guy saying what was said, then he would probably hit them ngl

but he takes the higher road with the woman, belittling and ending her with his vocabulary

and you’re pretty sure that his words hurt her more than an actual punch would

you laugh when he compares her built to a buffalo

he then goes on to a more education lean, explaining how skin tone has nothing to do with a person, and she should adapt to modern times and stop being a racist cunt

after he ends it he goes on to find out who she is and email/call her workplace to inform what kind of employee they have

probably also goes on to make sure she wont be hired anywhere else

comforts you alot and and will get you anything you want

prob gets you both milkshakes as you vent to him about today and other racist things said to you

hates how you have to go thru any of this for simply existing

the incident opens his eyes and he starts talking to bruce about opening a charity for ‘stop asian hate’

would shy away from the press and say you both came up with the fund

u’ll dismiss that rq and tell everyone it was all tim’s idea

all the money goes people got assaulted and paying for any hospital bills or anything needed

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ssa-thotchnerr · 3 years

Text

A Certain Hopelessness

Aaron Hotchner x Daughter!reader

Warnings: angst, kidnapping, violence, swearing, sad!hotch

a/n: some sad Hotch stuff for your angst needs!! Also, there is a creepy unsub here, just a warning. This is set in around s7 and the reader is 15-16

word count: 2.1k

—

There was a feeling of hopelessness that had settled within the BAU over the past 2 days. A feeling of helplessness that was most felt by Aaron Hotchner, who'd been listening to his daughter screaming in pain, begging for him to come and save her. The whole team had the same thought in their head;

They couldn't come and save you because you'd been hidden so well.

But that didn't mean that they weren't going to try, they would try their hardest to find and save the little girl they'd watch grow up for years. But they also know that they couldn't save every single person, they just hoped that you wouldn't be that next person that they couldn't save. No one had even tried to get Hotch to move from his position at the round table, he'd told them that he wouldn't leave you, even though you had no way of knowing that he was there.

He would always be with you.

—

You'd pulled your knees up to your chest to try and obtain some body heat, since sitting on a cold, concrete floor of a basement where it was always constantly breezy didn't give you much of a high temperature. You wished that you hadn't left school early, maybe then you wouldn't be in your current situation.

"Good morning," You looked up at the door at the top of the stairs in fear, seeing the shadow of your kidnapper standing in the door. You winced as you pushed yourself into a corner, trying to make yourself as small as possible. He laughed as he stepped down the creaky stairs, and you saw the silver glint of a knife in his hands. "I hope you slept well, you got a long day ahead of ya'."

"Pl-please don-don't hurt me, I-I won't try to run again! I-I promise," You stuttered, fear filled eyes looking up at him. Through the little light in the basement, you could see the malicious grin on his face. "I'll-I'll do whatever you want, just-just please don't ki-kill me." You begged.

"Oh honey, I don't know if you got this, but I'm not gonna kill you, mainly because I wanna hurt your daddy," He said. "Make him feel like the awful person he is."

"This is about my dad?" You asked him, letting yourself relax a tiny bit. He nodded and crouched down in front of you, pulling you forward by the collar of your no bloodied hoodie.

"Damn right this is about your dad," He snarled, pushing you back into the corner roughly. "Don't you feel awful when he leaves you and that little brother of yours own your own? But then again, he worries about what you'll do to the only child he cares about, he couldn't give a shit about you." You blinked and couldn't help but furrow your eyebrows, feeling your heart sink. You shook your head as you looked up at him.

"Wh-what?" You asked quietly. He chuckled at your confusion and obvious hurt, his plan coming together. He was reversing everything you'd ever known, he knew that your dad loved you and Jack equally, but he could easily make you believe that your dad hated you with every single fibre of his being. He knew you were easily manipulated, and he knew exactly what to say to get you upset.

"Don't act like you don't know, darling. Your dad despises you, he hasn't even got that team looking after you," He said. Your eyes filled with tears as you thought about being left with this man a minute longer, but it hurt even more to think about that your dad didn't care about you enough to look for you. "They left on a case this morning, he told them you didn't matter."

"You-you're lying," You didn't know if you were telling him that he was, or you were trying to convince yourself that he was. "My-my dad wouldn't leave anyone." You said. He chuckled and came closer to you.

"Well, maybe you aren't anyone, you've never appeared to be to your dad," Tears leaked from your eyes as he'd finally, truly broken you down. "Why are you crying? I haven't even started hurting you yet."

—

Hotch couldn't bare to watch this man hurl abuse and untrue thoughts at you much longer, he couldn't watch you be broken down anymore. He shut his eyes as he heard you start screaming, presumably in pain. There was a knock on the door, Hotch spun around on the chair he was sitting on to see who was there.

"Sir, we think we've found a possible suspect on who has Y/N," Garcia told him. "Based on what he'd said in the video earlier, we found that he believes your a bad father to her and Jack, and that she'd be better off with him," She said. It didn't take a criminal profiler to see the hurt flash on the normally stoic Aaron Hotchner's face. "So, taking information with males that had lost a child, we found Craig Brock, he lost his daughter Leona in a car crash last year, And she shares a very, very striking resemblance to your daughter,” Garcia watched as Hotch took in what she was saying. “And with that, Reid determined tha5 he wants you to feel the same helplessness that he had felt when he lost his daughter.” She finished, sliding a picture of the girl across the table to her boss. Hotch took the picture and saw the resemblance, he sighed. He didn't want you to share the same fate as this girl, he didn't want to lose you.

"Do you have an address yet?" He asked.

"I'm working on it sir, but you should have her back by the end of the day," Garcia said, smiling at Hotch, who gave her a small sliver of a smile in return. "You should probably turn that off, or at least go home and see Jack, if anything happens with Y/N or our Unsub, you'll be the first to know." Hotch sighed as he turned the TV off, turning the volume down and standing up.

“I never thought the day I’d be taking orders from you would come, Garcia,”

—

You grunted as you finally built up enough strength to rip the sleeve off of your hoodie so you could wrap it around your waist where you had been slashed. His words had echoed in your head since he’d even muttered them, did your dad even care about you? Were the team even looking for you? Hell, were they even in the country? You broke down into tears again, your blood coated hands coming up to cover your mouth. They fell back down to your sides when the door was yanked open, almost coming off of its hinges.

“Get up!” He snarled, huffing out in anger when you pushed yourself further into the corner, making yourself as small as possible. “I said, get up.” He practically growled. You sat still, crying out in fear when he grabbed the collar of your hoodie and pulled you up onto your feet roughly.

“Okay! Okay! I-I’m sorry,” You whimpered, holding your hands out in fear. He dragged you up the stairs, you crying all the way up as the pain from your wounds shot up.

“Looks like I was wrong about your dad not caring for you, he and his team are on their way here,” He said in your ear, his arm snaking around your neck and then his free hand holding a gun to your temple. You were shaking, your entire body trembling with fear. “He’s not gonna know what to do when he comes through that door, you’re cut up like a piece of paper.”

“He’ll probably fucking kill you,” You snarled. He was taken back by your sudden change in attitude, and righted his arm around your neck and pushed the barrel of the gun closer to your head.

“Anymore of that, and I’ll put a bullet through your skull,” He said in your ear.

That shut you up quickly.

It felt like hours before the door creaked open, and from the back room, you could see that Emily, Morgan and Reid were entering the house.

“Help! Help!” You screamed, only for a hand to be clamped over your mouth and to be thrown to the floor. His foot was on your neck, a gun pointed between your eyes. Emily, Morgan and Reid all cornered him, their eyes watching as you struggled to breathe, coughing and gasping as you tried to bring air into your lungs. You were beaten black and blue, and covered in blood, they almost didn’t recognise you.

“Craig Brock, let Y/N go,” Emily said calmly. “We know what happened to Leona, and we know that there was nothing you could do to help your daughter. Do you really wanna put another father through the pain of losing their child?” She asked him. In a moment of hesitancy, he removed his foot from your neck, allowing you to cough and then slide away from him. In what seemed as though a move of panic, he shot down at the floor, narrowly missing your head, but just clipping the side of your ear. A ringing noise deafened you, and you screamed.

—

Hotch felt his heart drop as he heard a gunshot and then a scream. Emily had ordered him to stay outside, she didn’t want him doing something that he would end up regretting. Minutes later, the front door opened again, only this time you were there, Spencer’s arm around your waist to support you and your arm around his shoulder. Walking out of there, you looked so small and scared. There was no way that Hotch couldn’t run towards you, gently taking you from Spencer.

“Da-daddy?” There was a small smile on your face as you saw the blurry figure of your dad. Hotch smiled in relief and nodded, arms going around you gently so’s not to disturb anymore of your cuts or slashes. “You-you came.” You stuttered.

“Of course I came, I wasn’t gonna leave you, honey,” He assured you. You couldn’t properly hear what your dad was saying, but you could make it out. “Alright, let’s get you to the hospital.”

“Can you carry me?” You asked, holding your arms out to him. Hotch nodded and lifted you gently, holding you close like if he let you go, he’d lose you once again.

“Can I see Y/N yet?” Jack asked his dad. Hotch smiled as he nodded at his youngest child, who was clearly eager to have his older sister back. Hotch was getting Jack from school while you were asleep at home, with every door and window locked to improve your safety.

“Yeah, she got home this morning after I dropped you off at school, she’s been missing you too,” Hotch told Jack. When they got home, Jack practically shot upstairs. “Jack, do not go into Y/N’s room.” Hotch called up to him. Jack sighed as he waited for his dad to come up the stairs.

“Can I go in yet?” Hotch laughed as he nodded, opening the door to your room and sighing at you when he saw you were now awake, Greys Anatomy playing on your TV. “Y/N!”

“Hey bubs!” You cheered, smiling at your brother as you pulled your brother up onto your bed. Hotch sat down on the end of your bed and took the TV remote turning it off. “Dad.” You whined.

“You’re supposed to be asleep, Y/N,” He reminded you. You sighed as you flopped back onto your bed.

“Can I stay here?” Jack asked, looking at your dad. Hotch shook his head.

“No, Jack, Y/N has to try and get some sleep,” He said. You pulled Jack to sit beside you and you both pouted up at your dad, who sighed as he shook his head. “Fine, fine.”

“We love you, dad.”

—

#angst #criminal minds #hotch x daughter!reader #hotch x reader #hotchner!reader #agent hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction #jack hotchner #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #Aaron Hotchner x daughter!reader

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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 3 years

Note

im not very sure if you're doing abcs for the trio but if u do could u pls maybe do C N O and S for vlad? <3

No worries! I don't see why not, my knowledge is just a little more limited for them is all~

Hope you enjoy these, lovely! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Aight y’all it’s time for me to put on my clown shoes as god intended

Though man, what a delightfully rainy day today to write =v=

Fluff ABCs Template here

Cuddling -- How does he like to cuddle?

He is a simple man, with simple needs.

That being said, I think he’s one for a lot of gentle affection. Despite appearances–I mean hell, he literally wears a necklace of thorns–he’s actually a very tender lover. Loves hand-holding, scooting close under umbrellas, making shapes out of the little beauty marks that dot her skin. He will take any excuse to hold her and run with it.

Ideally, I think he prefers privacy above all else, most typically in his room in the castle. This side of him, so soft with his love for her, belongs to her and her alone. He refuses to let anyone else kill his immersion the moment (cue Charles dragging Faust away from doing something disruptive and stupid), or indulge in the sight of her so rosy-cheeked and loving. Loves dropping little kisses to the crown of her head, her shoulders, the backs of her hands. He’s waited so many long years to be able to hold her close like this, to feel the heat of her blush and the tinkle of sweet giggles when he nips and pecks at her pretty skin. All of this, every single second, is beyond value to him…he cherishes each memory close to his heart, crystallized fragments of joy in a life so bereft of it.

His favorite position for cuddling tends to be a kind of side lean. Usually she’ll be lying down (or turned towards him, sometimes) while he’s on his side beside her (usually against a wall or the back of a sofa). He loves that he can gaze at her as much as he likes this way, he really can’t get enough. The person he was searching for all this time, right here, no sign of leaving…

Nightmare -- What is his worst fear?

Oh boyo boy. Oh boy...

Honestly, I really don’t see anything horrifying him as much as losing MC. I don’t think he’s a man above fear. He hates being abandoned, he’s afraid of the world being torn apart by humanity’s indifference.

But nothing compares to the shattering fear of losing MC.

I think he has a very particular intense fear about losing loved ones because of the nature of his life history. He is still deeply affected by his entire clan being wiped out by hunters, leaving him alone to carry the weight of that legacy and loss. While he couldn’t help but give his heart to the woman who saved him, the reality of his terror is undeniable. After so many centuries of searching, after so many years of feeling hollow and alone…Even now, he has never come to terms with the way his family was ripped away from him. To know the gentleness of love again, to finally have a hand to hold only to lose it…

Well, I really can’t imagine the terrifying result of that. I imagine he would be far beyond reason.

Whenever he has bad dreams of the very same fear, he is nigh inconsolable. He holds her very tightly without saying a word (which is unlike him) and she'll know not to let him go for a while. She murmurs calming things, promises of things they'll do together in the future, strokes his hair and rubs his back. They only leave the bed when he's feeling somewhat stabilized again, but even so he'll hold her hand for longer than usual days after. Embraces her more, finds any excuse to hide away.

Oddity -- What is one quirk he has?

I think one part of him that is overlooked is that he is a man very interested in the nature of contradiction, the duality that resides in all things–himself included. Some parts of his preoccupation are more obvious than others. For instance, he loves flowers due to the nature of their ephemeral beauty, but also enjoys trying to preserve them to let their appeal survive. There’s also the fact that flowers can look or smell lovely, but can harbor poisons strong enough to kill grown human beings. (Not unlike him.)

He is a vampire in which the front-end of his operations is a cathedral, and I imagine that was a purposeful move as well. There are so many angles to consider here, namely two obvious ones that come to mind. There is the non-threatening concept of the cathedral: in which people assume it is a safe haven, a place to seek care/assistance/prayer (not entirely so in this case, even if Faust plays priest.) There’s the possibility that vampire hunters are typically supplied by/supported by the church (not sure if this is the case here, but it is a common trope). That would mean Vlad would be using the face of the very human institution that ruined his life to enact revenge, to say nothing of the potential risk of hunters seeking sanctuary only to run into a den of vampires.

There is also wondering whether or not he purposely wears that necklace of thorns ;;;;; (For anyone unaware, there was the whole Jesus wearing a crown of thorns specifically as an extension of humiliation, branding him the “fake king" of the Jewish people.) My contention here would be that he is basically saying “lmao, I’m your suffering saint now.” Or maybe he’s just really into masochistic jewelry, I have no idea.

He appears to have a kind of obsession with subverting norms/conventional expectations, and I have to wonder if it runs with his general underdog theme…

Secrets -- How open is he with her?

Despite his generally guarded nature, with MC he is entirely transparent when they’re in a relationship. Unless he doesn’t want to scare her or simply feels something would be best shared at a later time, he makes no real attempt to hide anything from her. If she asks and he knows the answer, he’ll spill.

(Okay but sometimes it gets hilarious, because say Faust has been trying for years to get info out of him about some stupidly specific thing. And Vlad is always very evasive, dances out of reach, plain ignores him. MC asks and he’s just like “oh yeah, in 1582 I remember–” It’s a wonder Faust never throws hands about it, pisses him off so much LMFAO)

Before their relationship was established he hesitated more, largely because the nature of his existence and his ties to her were a lot to take in at the time. I think he prefers not to overwhelm her whenever possible. It’s very much a kind of “I won’t info drop on you thoughtlessly, but if you ask me a question I’ll do my best to answer with the truth.”

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp vlad #ikevamp fluff #ikevamp headcanons #ikevamp fluff headcanons #sometimes your honor he is babie #please enjoy giant scary babie man #no matter how old i get these type of characters never cease to be funny to me #he just barks at p much everyone but MC LMFAO #anywho i hope you enjoyed these!!! and that i answered to satisfaction úwù <3333 #requests are still open #asks #rambles #not incorrect quotes

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