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#i'm gonna staple it to your hand so you Have to take it with you i swear
gender-euphowrya · 3 months
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my grandma has invented the revolutionary concept of a mobile phone you leave at home
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luveline · 8 months
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hot bombshell bau!reader flirting and winking at spencer every chance she gets and poor spencer just gets hot and bothered very flustered and blushing😋😋
i love you jade i read ur blog like it's the daily newspaper<33
I love you anon, thank you for requesting ♡ fem!reader
"So," says a voice, low and syrupy as warmth spreads up Spencer's side, "how's my favourite agent?" 
Your perfume a subtle fragrance of jasmine and vanilla alike, sweetness that lingers —and Spencer knows, having thought of you every time he walks past the sugar ring donut stand by the Staples Mill Station for weeks— you put a hand on his shoulder and lean in for a one-armed hug. His skin erupts with goosebumps. 
"Y/N," he says, sounding much too much like a wimp for his own liking. He clears his throat. "When did you get back?" 
He's afraid to look at you. He doesn't have a choice. His heart skips a beat at the state of you, which is to say you look stunning in your dark clothes, a tight cut top that borders unprofessional and a pair of thigh hugging pants that pass the border completely. (He's kidding. Mostly. You're dressed fine. He's a loser, is all.) 
"This morning. They couldn't keep me from you if they tried, handsome. You look good." You disengage from his side. Spencer's relieved and regretful at once. "I love the haircut, they take a little more than you were expecting?" 
"Is it too short?" he asks unsurely. 
"It's perfect."
Spencer's taller than you but he never feels it until you're looking up at him, pretty eyes and quirked lips, permanent amusement in your gaze. "I missed you," you say.
"Y/N," Hotch says as he descends the steps to the bullpen. "We talked about this." 
"Pen and Morgan do it every day." Your eyebrows pinch together. 
Hotch doesn't say anything else, an empty coffee mug in hand as he passes. You don't baulk at his disapproving look, the opposite, sitting on the edge of Morgan's desk to kick your kitten heels gently, a slow back and forth that has Spencer's eyeline pulling down your legs. He shakes it off, but not before you've noticed. 
"You don't mind, do you, babe?" you ask. "My flirting?" 
It'll probably kill him sooner rather than later. "No. Don't mind." 
"'Cus I can stop, I promise. But you're the kind of boy that should be flirted with, you know? And the kind of smart that makes you crazy attractive, which is unfair. It's not like you needed help in that particular department." You lean back as you talk, scrounging around Morgan's things.
"Second shelf," Spencer says. 
You stop your searching to grin at him. Pleased, you reach down to the second drawer of Morgan's desk and find what you'd been looking for, a coveted, half-eaten pack of cherry twizzlers. 
"But we're not like Pen and Morgan," you say, bringing a twizzler to your mouth. 
"We're not?" Spencer asks, confused. He may not summon the necessary charisma to flirt back, but he likes what you have. 
"Nope." You take another bite, chew, leaving Spencer in anticipation. Finally, you swallow, lips curving into an even stickier smile. "'Cus Pen and Morgan are never gonna happen. They're better as friends…" 
You slip down off of Morgan's desk, leaving his twizzlers behind. Spencer has enough sense about him to anticipate your approach. He's proud of himself for the composure he maintains as your footsteps slow. He even takes a step back to follow you, to your abject delight. 
"But we're not just friends, are we?" you ask softly. You lift your chin. He can smell the cherry on you. 
"Y/N, enough," Hotch says from somewhere behind. You refuse to look away, and while Spencer fears his chief's tone, he manages to hold your gaze. "HR will mandate another presentation." 
"It's alright, Hotch," Spencer says. His cheeks are flushed and his palms are clammy, but his voice holds up. "I don't mind." 
"I'm sure you don't." 
"This could all be avoided if we took this somewhere a little more private," you murmur. 
"Enough. I won't tell you again, Y/N. Shouldn't you be helping Penelope with her ViCAP recalibration?" Hotch asks pointedly. 
Spencer takes it for what it is; an effort to separate you from each other before it goes too far. You know it too, rolling your eyes at Spencer like you've a shared secret —Can you believe this guy?— clasping his arm loosely in farewell.
"See you later, Spence." You call him handsome, babe, bub, even sweetheart, but Spence is the worst of all of them because of how you say it, your voice entrenched in pure honey. His heart pangs as you go.  
Hotch lingers by Spencer's side, coffee freshly filled and steaming in rings. "You know, you're getting better," he says sympathetically. 
Spencer rubs the bridge of his nose roughly. "Thanks." 
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mendessi · 1 year
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ii. the sun
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The sun portends good fortune, happiness, joy and harmony. It represents the universe coming together and agreeing with your path and aiding forward movement into something greater.
paring: joel miller x fem!reader
summary: you meet joel for the first time while working as a trauma nurse in the emergency room at a hospital in austin, texas. joel can't handle a few stitches so he distracts himself by flirting with you.
warnings: pre-outbreak, mentions of injury, blood, stitches, flirty/nervous!joel, mention of a car accident, me pretending i know what being a nurse is like, no use of y/n
masterlist
minors DNI
Your day had been ridiculously rough but thankfully it was coming to an end within the next two hours. It was Saturday which meant it was one of your longer shifts at the hospital and it felt like it had no end in sight.
There had been a game at the university which brought a ton of mid day drinking to underage college students who couldn't handle their alcohol. This also typically meant a ton of fights between the rivaling teams, drunk driving accidents, and typical college bullshit that never seemed to end during the football season. If there was one thing you had learned about Texans since moving there was that they take their football seriously. Especially for a school like UT.
"Talk about a rough day." You say to your co-worker when you both finally have a second to breathe at the nurse's station. You flip open a chart to ensure everything is set for a patient's release and then shut it.
"At least Bradley over there didn't throw up on your brand new sneakers." Belle said to you with a sigh.
"College boys, what can you do?" You say with a laugh.
"So cute and yet so so stupid." She looked down at her pager and then groaned. "Great. I gotta run."
You grabbed your stack of release papers off the printer, stapled them and then headed over to one of your patients for them to sign. Considering it had been an early game, the chaos was settling down in the ER and the shift was getting easier which was a good sign you'd actually be leaving on time.
"Alright then Mr. Olson, you're all set." You gave your best smile and then turned on your heel after receiving the necessary paperwork.
"Hey, can you grab bed three? Brad needs his IV changed." Belle said as she quickly passed you by.
"Brad? We're calling him Brad now?" You huffed throwing your arms up. "Belle, I'm supposed to be leaving now."
"Sorry, love you!" She didn't even turn to look at you as she hustled off towards bed six where Brad was still recovering from his alcohol poisoning.
You roll your eyes and pick up the chart for bed three, reading over it as you walk towards the patient. Injury to hand. Probably from a bar fight. You pull the curtain back with a smile, slighlty surprised that the man sitting on the edge of the bed was not a college student but a grown man. Half a relief.
"Mr. Miller?" You say, pulling up your chair to sit in front of him saying your spiel, "How are you doing? I'm a RN at Austin General and I'm just gonna see what's going on and hopefully we'll get you out of here in about an hour, yeah?"
"Joel, please." He says. You can't help but take note of how handsome he is compared to the other drunk men that have come into ER today. Either he sobered up due to the gaping cut in his hand or he had time to sober up on his drive over here. "You're not from round here are you?"
"Seattle. That obvious, huh?" You say with a laugh. "I'm just gonna take a look." You take his hand, pausing for a moment when he sucks a breath of air through his teeth.
You unravel the sketchy and poorly wrapped t-shirt around Joel's hand, hiding any reaction you have to gash in the palm of his hand that is still bleeding.
"Get into a fight?" You ask, trying to make light conversation after seeing his pained reaction to the injury.
"Yeah, you should see the other guy." He laughs lightly.
"What really happened?" You ask, grabbing the antiseptic to clean the wound. This man was far from drunk.
You could see by the dirt on his hands that this was not a bar fight and indeed probably just a work related accident. What, you couldn't guess, but the man in front of you didn't give off the energy he was coming down from being wasted.
"Tried catching a pane of glass that was falling over. Sliced right through my hand." He said, watching your hands as they worked. "Not gonna need stitches or nothin, will it?"
"I wish I could give you the answer you want." You tell him with empathy coming to the conclusion that it was deep enough to not heal on its own and would need stitches.
"Shit," He sighs.
"It'll take about ten minutes tops. Not too bad." You finish preparing the wound and grab a fresh pair of gloves and your suture kit.
"You gonna do em?" He asked.
"Yes sir." You look up at him again from your chair and his eyes meet yours. They're soft and brown, and you almost imagine what they'd look like in the sun. Probably like honey, you think.
"You ever had em before?" He asks and you gesture to the small scar on your temple.
"My cousin pushed me out of our tree house when I was five. Cracked my head open pretty bad. Seven stitches." You say. "If five year old me can handle it, thirty-four year old you can handle it."
"How old are you now?" He asks.
"Twenty-four." You reply, pushing his fingers open so that his hand is laying flat on the table in front of you.
"Pretty young to be a nurse, I'd say. Pretty though." He says and almost immediately after he face palms with his free hand. "Sorry, I'm a little nervous."
You almost smile and then remember the amount of times you had been hit on today was astronomical between all of the college kids coming in and out of the ER. How hard could it possibly be for any men to keep their testosterone levels steady and not flirt with women simply trying to do their jobs. You do feel a little bit of empathy for him as needles do seem to make him nervous but you've had a hard, never ending day so nothing amuses you.
You look up at him with a blank stare, "Try to move as little as possible."
"Tell me somethin true." He says as you begin your first suture. He keeps his eyes on you but you're focused on stitching his hand back together.
"Such as?"
"About you." He releases a shaky breath and you notice his finger tips start shaking slightly. The caring person you are feels sorry for him. He does seem like a nice guy who is just dealing with the fact that he has a four inch slice in his hand.
"I think I'm quite an open book." You say, your eyebrows furrowing as you work carefully on his hand.
"I'd say the opposite." His voice is low and it's hard to tell if he's struggling to hold his composure or if he's still trying to flirt.
"I entered this field because when I was twelve I was in a pretty brutal car accident. I was in the hospital for weeks but the nurses that cared for me quickly became my reason for living. I was miserable, it was quite literally the worst time of my life, but I was excited to wake up everyday because I knew they'd be there to greet me. They were just doing their jobs, but it was so much more for me. I wanted to do that for other people." You talk quietly, but loud enough for him to hear. As you go on, you notice his fingers stop shaking and the muscles in his arm that were tense relax.
"I think you're doin a stand up job." You look up at him, a small smile on your lips. "You're makin this this thing a whole lot easier."
That was definitely flirting. Though, looking at him now, you don't seem to mind it much anymore.
"You flirt with women every time you go into their workplace?" You ask. You're half joking. What's the worst that can happen, you'll flirt, he'll be discharged and then you'll never see him again.
"Only the pretty ones." You look into his eyes, yours narrowed as you judge his words. He's not smiling anymore.
"You think I'm pretty." It comes out more as a statement than a question. You almost flip your hair but then remember you're supposed to be suturing his hand.
"I think you're the most stunning woman to ever walk the streets of Austin." He's 100% serious and you can tell he means what he's saying.
You're cheeks are red at this point and there's no hiding it. "You're not half bad compared to the boys that have been in and out of this ER today."
"That's cus I'm a man." He straightens his posture and you can't help but laugh at the bad line. "That was a bad one, m' sorry."
"Good to know." You glance at him and cut the suture. You wrap a bandage around his hand and then scribble stuff down on his papers. "Seven stitches."
"What time are you out of here?" He asks as he examines your work on his hand.
"As soon as you're gone." You say standing up. "I'm gonna grab your discharge papers and I'll be right back."
"Let me take you to dinner." He states more than asks.
"I don't go out with patients." You say before walking away to the nurses station located in the center of the floor.
As you print his papers and sign and date them you can feel his eyes on you but you avoid looking up. He was probably the only sober man you spoke with today and while yes he was extremely handsome, he was at least ten years older than you. You never really cared about that before so the only thing stopping you was your suddenly made up rule about not dating patients. You had never once been officially been asked out by a patient only tragically flirted with by every college kid that walked into building. The rule was bullshit and you knew it. What could one date hurt? He was charming and you didn't want to admit it.
"Okay, Mr. Miller you're all set. Just sign these for me and you're good to go." You slide him the discharge papers and wait patiently for him to sign them. He hands them back to you, a smug smile on his face.
"Thanks for everything." He says and you nod.
"Stay safe." You tell him and then turn on your heel back to the nurses station where you quickly file his paperwork and clock out. You grab your things and wave bye to your co workers as you head for the door.
"Hey," You look up from your pager and find Joel Miller waiting for you.
"Mr. Miller." You greet him, shoving your pager into your pocket. "Stalking me?"
"Joel. It's dark outside, figured I could walk you to your car." He says matching your pace which is always at a default fast pace, though it must be easier considering his legs are longer than yours.
"Sure you're not gonna kidnap me once we get there?" You ask with a huff.
"With my crippled hand against you? No chance, you'd take me out easily." He smiles.
"You'd like that wouldn't you?" You look both ways before crossing the street into the parking lot, he still keeps up with you standing at your side.
"As a matter of fact I would." He says and you finally look at him as you reach your car. You cross your arms over your chest and stare at him for a moment before speaking.
"Fine." You pull your phone from your pocket and hand it to him to put his number in.
"Really?" He tries to hide his excitement but he fails as the smile spreads from cheek to cheek as he punches the numbers in on your phone.
"I'll call you tomorrow." You say when he hands your phone back.
"I'll be waitin." He pulls your door open and you get in as he smiles at you until he closes the door. "Stay safe."
You never would've have given him your phone if it were anyone else but there was something about Joel Miller that you knew you could trust. You knew he'd never try to physically harm you and you knew that he wasn't being weird with his action. The nerves of getting stitches brought out a flirty side of him that was amusing to watch.
He could pretend that the only reason he asked you out was because you were "the most stunning woman to ever walk the streets of Austin" but it realistically was the fact that you were caring (whether it was just your job or not), you were kind (even when he was relentlessly flirting with you) and it was easy to tell you didn't put up with anyone's bullshit.
The truth is, Joel Miller never would've flirted with you if you were anyone else. He hadn't even thought of another woman since Sarah entered the world. He had never gotten stitches before so the nerves were eating at him but you opened up to him and alleviated his nerves. You had a bright aura, one that resembled the sun on a winter day, the moment when it emerges from the clouds and everything is suddenly warmer. You made him feel eased despite the throbbing pain of the cut in his hand or the process of getting stitched up.
That night was simple to the start of your relationship. Despite the clouds that surrounded you that night, Joel brought out the sun.
tag list: @aphrcdites @rey26
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sapphicmsmarvel · 2 months
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acotar x reader: one day at a time
Tw for death: 
Reader loses somebody and their friends are there to pick up the pieces. A lil sprinkle sprinkle of az x reader bc that's MY BABYYYY
Lotsssssss of acts of service within the group. 
Also bc im a petty asshole i included a snippet of one of my racist aunts who said some wild shit to me at MY SISTERS FUNERAL and just basically dissing her. (literally why would you stare at my poc best friend who's just trying to support me. This bitch stared at MY GIRL?? MY BESTIE???? NUH UH NOT ON MY WATCH BITCH). 
Said best friend was just like “she’s never seen a brown person before marie it's fine.” 
NO ITS NOT. IDC IF THIS IS MY SISTERS FUNERAL WE’LL MAKE IT A DOUBLE FUNERAL. 
I'm petty. 
soooo this is born out of grief for my sister. My sister passed away on 03/11/21 and this is very much catered to my grief and these are my comfort characters so naturally i'm gonna write about them when it comes to helping their loved one grieve. 
and yeah this is gonna be based around the reader's sister dying. what can i say. I'm on brand. 
also reader is feyres childhood friend that got turned into a fae with nesta and elain. i feel like that’s just the staple with my fics. 
---------
When you got notified of your sister's death, it was actually a pretty good day up until that point. Sunny day with clouds, a wonderful brunch date with Mor, adorable children at the studio with Feyre. Afterwards, the two of you began walking back to Feyre’s, content on playing with Nyx for the evening before retiring to your own home. When you walked up, Feyre looked at you and told you about how the Inner Circle were having a meeting inside the office. So you two quickly joined them. 
When you walked in, Rhysand held out a letter, “this was a letter delivered to you.” 
You made a face and grabbed it, “okay, so why are you all staring at me like that?” 
“This person walked into the Spring Court and dropped it on Tamlins doorstep.” Cassian said. “They dropped it in the middle of night, just when he wasn’t prowling like a creep.” 
“What the fuck?” You asked as you analyzed it. 
No name but yours and a pisspoor address. 
Lady Y/N L/N
Night Court
“We didn’t know if it was a…” Azriel trailed off, realizing how silly what he was about to say was. “Hence, why all of us are here.”
“We’re also just nosey.” Mor shrugged, her nose wrinkling. 
You snorted, and tore into it, “you could’ve opened it.” 
“It’s your mail. We may be protective bastards but you still have a right to privacy.” Rhysand drawled. 
Feyre stood next to you as you pulled out the paper, your eyes tracing over it. 
“It’s from my dad.” You said recognizing his handwriting. 
Then, it all went to shit. 
Your big sister was dead, the woman you fought with a lot of the time but yet would take a beating for. Your big sister who helped guide you through life, who would always be there even if she was pissed off at you for some inane reason.
Gone.
You just froze, not knowing what to do. You’re pretty sure Az asked you a question, then Cass, then Rhys. Then you felt Feyre’s hand on your shoulder. 
I need to leave. 
I need to go before I hurt someone. 
You just wordlessly handed the letter to her and winnowed away. 
You didn’t go to your apartment, you didn’t go to the townehouse, you didn’t go anywhere they would find you. 
You went to the middle of the forest. You just picked a random point to lose it.
And you did. 
You didn’t remember much of causing the damage. Only that you managed to stop when Azriel’s arms wrapped around you. You just kept screaming. “I know, I know. It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here.” He said, his lips against your hair. 
His shadows wrapped around your hands, cool wind kissing away the raging inferno of your cuts. You collapsed, taking Azriel to the ground. 
He just held you as you sobbed. You felt his own tears hit your neck. He usually did a better job masking his emotions, but it was you crying, you who he had a deeper bond with. So he let his emotions run free.
“Y/N!” Feyre called into your mind. Your shields were down and you didn’t even notice.
“Az has me, i’m sorry I-” 
“Don’t apologize. I would’ve done worse if I found out…” Her voice trailed off. 
“I’m sorry I ran off.” 
“Do not apologize.” She said sternly, “After you and Az are done come back to the River House. You can sleep at our house tonight. Guest bed is currently being made up.” 
She left your mind before you could respond. You breathed in the smell of Az. 
Azriel brought you back to Feyre and Rhysand’s home. Rhys had trouble with touch, but never with you. He brought you into his arms instantly. You tried not to let the tears surface again, but it was quite hard when a brotherly kiss was pressed against your head. 
“We got you, Y/N.” He whispered against the crown of your head.
Nuala and Cerridwen made you your favorite food. Which prompted you to start crying again. The twins looked so panicked that it almost made you laugh. Elain made your favorite cookies, which again kept the tears going.
“I don’t know why I’m crying over this.” You said helplessly, you managed to laugh during that. 
Feyre and Elain hugged you from both sides. 
You retired to the guest bedroom, you found a pile of fluffy blankets and your favorite candy. As well as a bouquet of your favorite flowers with Mor’s handwriting scrawled on the note. Amren left you a bottle of your favorite wine too. 
Eventually, after some more tears, there was a knock at your door. You called out for them to come in but saw Nyx. 
The little guy was walking even more, speaking full sentences. It’s insane to you that he grew so fast but it has been 5 years since he was born. 
“Go on like we practiced.” You heard Feyre encourage from behind the door frame. 
“Hi, Auntie.” The little guy mumbled. Holding a glass of water. “I have something for you.” 
“Yeah buddy?” You smiled despite the shitty day. Your nephew made everything better. 
Rhysand walked in behind him, as did Feyre. Rhysand lifted him up onto the bed while Feyre handed you a cup of hot chocolate. 
You were just glad Nyx wasn’t holding the hot drink. 
“Here’s some wata.” He said, his small hands handing you the glass. 
“Oh thank you.” You said earnestly and took a sip. You set it on the table. Then you laid back down and faced him. “Just what I needed.” You were genuine. 
“Auntie, are you sad?” Both Feyre and Rhys froze at their sons question. Clearly, he was going off script. 
You sniffed, “yeah, Nyxie. I’m really sad.” 
“I love you.” His eyes were so big, so genuine. You were going to cry for a whole new reason. 
“I love you more.” 
“Nuh uh.” He said, as a typical toddler wanting to argue no matter what. 
You huffed a laugh and opened your arms. “Come here.” 
He crawled into your arms with no hesitation. You were careful of his little baby wings as you held him close to you. 
You loved this kid. 
Feyre settled in behind you on the bed, Rhysand joined on the other side with his son. 
They held you as you drifted off into a dreamless sleep, hoping to see your sister one last time. 
————————
When it came to planning the funeral, you had to go out to your family’s cottage to help. You said you could go alone, but frankly, good luck telling Nesta and the Valkyries to stay behind when one of their own is in pain. 
So when you saddled up to your family with three warriors behind you, they were scared a bit to say the least. 
Emerie held your hand during the funeral discussion as Nesta watched the director to make sure she wasn’t insensitive to you. Gwyn stood guard behind you. They were protectors, they were not gonna leave one of their girls to deal with this alone.
Eventually, the funeral was planned. The rest of your chosen family came out and surprised you. You sent a notice to them of when the funeral was and told them they didn’t need to come because you knew how busy they were. 
When they showed up on your family’s doorstep to surprise you, you started crying again. 
——-
The day of the funeral, it was the entire inner circle crammed into the living room of the cottage of your mortal family’s living space.  
You felt bad cramming two males with wings into that small space, especially with so many other people. But Cassian and Azriel assured you that there’s nowhere else they would be. 
You slept sharing a flimsy mattress with Elain, since the other two sisters were with their mates. But Feyre and Rhys slept close. So did Nesta and Cassian. Both women facing your general direction. 
Azriel did not sleep. He wanted to be there in case you woke up in tears again. 
Amren slept sitting up against a wall, she wouldn’t admit it but she wanted an eye on you. She only trusted hers. 
Mor was curled on the other side of you. You were sandwiched between her and Elain. 
Emerie and Gwyn slept down by your guys’ legs. Emerie’s head on Mor’s thigh. Gwyn hugging Elain legs in her sleep. 
Azriel chose not to mention what happened when your dad came downstairs in the middle of the night to check on you. 
It was as if he wasn’t sure if you’d really be there. He just lost one daughter, he didn’t want to lose another. 
He nodded at Azriel who nodded back. Assuring him that you weren’t going anywhere. That you always had people watching out for you.  
As everyone got ready, it was a somber moment. Elain did your hair, Mor did your makeup, Amren set out your jewelry and Feyre handled your clothes. They didn’t want you doing anything. 
Nesta, Gwyn and Emerie let your nephew and niece play with their swords. It was the one thing they seemed interested in so they let them do it. 
Rhysand was currently trying to get your dad to accept a check from him and Feyre to pay for everything plus anything else your parents need during this time. Your father was refusing. Rhys spoke bluntly. “Your daughter is my family, please let me take care of her family.” 
Your dad didn’t. But Rhys hid the check in your dads night table. He felt yucky going into their room but did it to make sure they got the check. 
On the way to the funeral, Azriel had offered his arm for you to take, which you gratefully did. Rhysand got the door for you. Az led you in. The overprotective bat boys acted like your body guards, which you appreciated, however you couldn’t help but giggle a little bit at it. 
Nesta told you before the funeral to let her know if you wanted her to intervene to keep some relatives away. 
One of your (racist) aunts kept telling you how you’re responsible for your sister's kids. Then when she saw Azriel, Cassian, Rhysand, Amren and Emerie, she just stared. Before you could intervene, Elain and Gwyn stood in front of them. 
You almost wacked her so hard it was going to be a double funeral. You had prepared them before that some relatives were racist. They didn’t give a rat's ass. 
Oh and then everyone in your party including you were Fae. That also did not help. 
Hence why you lived in Velaris, away from all the bigotry.
During the service, Feyre sat on one side of you, Amren on the other side. Feyre clutched your hand and Amren even held out her hand for you. She always had a soft spot for you. Mor’s makeup didn’t last long throughout the service which is why she did bare minimum on your face. 
Afterwards, you left pretty soon after the service was done. You just had to leave the building. You guys went to a pub in your funeral attire. Azriel sat next to you and Nesta on the other side. Rhys refused to let you pay. But you knew he was trying to get you riled up. It was working. 
He was incredibly happy to see the fire return to your eyes. 
At that moment, with your family, you knew you were going to be okay. 
Just have to take every day one step at a time.
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kombuuuu · 10 months
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yo could you do some domestic spot fluff???? asking for a friend (lie)
Spotty dog?
Spot x Gen!Reader
“This feels demeaning.” “It’s not! Look he’s cute!”
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hes so adorable h my god. 101 dalmatian coded fr
June 28th — Your lovers birthday, and two days away. You woke this morning with a determination you knew both you and him held. To out-do your your last gift. Last Christmas, you had thought you'd won. Showing up to your shared home with a pair of matching shirts — reading "I ♡ My Boyfriend" and one equally matching for him.
Along with a multitude of other small things — all sentimental to your relationship. Like the mug that said "No.1 Bad Guy." or a card detailing how he would never just be the "Villain of the week."
But when he'd pulled out matching crocs, with Jibbitz of a goofy looking Dalmatian for him and a cute Bunny for you?
You had resigned as Loser for the months to come. Not without a cheering victory from your Spotty lover. Now though? A thought had been brewing for months— one that would never make you loser of the gifts ever again. What could possibly out-do a man willing to wear crocs branded with a staple of you on them? And a goofy looking bucket hat with your silly matching shirts?
A dog.
Something he's wanted for a while now, something to take care of. He'd lost everything, his friends, his family. With that much gone, he'd clung to you like a lost child. Mourning the losses he'd faced while cherishing his moments with you — feeling a constant sense of peril when faced with the fact that he *could just lose you too. He wouldn't, though. You would never do that to him. You loved him too dearly to cause him that pain.
You watched him slip on a blue coat over his "totally regular civilian" clothes. The complaint leaving his mouth going on deaf ears. He slipped on his left shoe, jumping a bit and tripping over himself before steadying himself on a coffee table. "Do we really have to go out today?—" His face-spot downturned, like a sad puppy.
",—Can't we just sit in and cuddle? We could watch Mean Girls and i'll make the hot chocolate you really like!" "Baby." He whined, Spot rolling into a displeased frown. "Where are we even—" "—Ask one more time." He snorted, pulling his last shoe on and tucking in the laces, then going up to you and leaning down to give your forehead a kiss. "Ready?"
He right about swooned at your domestic tone, admiring the way the softened gold lights highlighted your features. You were everything to him, and just the knowledge you loved him back had him tripping over himself. Falling through spots at the sight of you. "Yeah."
Jonn swayed as the bus came to a stop, avidly ignoring the curious glances given by other patrons, and focusing more on holding onto you.
"I'm gonna fall over!" "Maybe if you held the bar, and not me." He looked up at you from his waist bent position, arms wrapped securely around your abdomen, clinging onto you like you were the only person there.
"I don't need another lover baby, you're right here." "It's a pole, John." "And I am a faithful man." You giggled lightly at him and wrapped your free arm around him tighter.
"Just step off." "It's high!" John stuttered out his reply, dipping his foot down like he was testing pool water. 'I'll just—" He turned around, opening a spot and crawling through it and popping up again next to you. The bus driver gawked at you, paler than the villain walking Brighton's street.
You mouthed a 'sorry' to the poor lady, and grabbed your boyfriends hand, dragging him towards the street of your subject.
"You gonna tell me where we're going yet?" He trailed behind you, getting pulled by his left hand, and tripping over his own feet. Moving in that clumsy kind of dorkiness. 'Nuh uh."
His spot slanted at you, deadpanning. "You're being mysterious— I don't like it."
You side-eyed him, grinning in a glare. "I think it's part of the charm." He dragged his spindly legs farther forward, stepping in front of you and gathering your joined hand against his chest. He walked backwards with you, and his spot widened again. You smiled up at him, continuing on with walking, and waited for him to complain once more.
You hadn't have to wait long. "Are you sure you can't—" "We're here." He stopped walking when you did, spot slanting when he surveyed the shops and stalls around him, trying to read the signs. "a café date?—," He chuckled lightly, chest heaving lightly "'—You know you could have—"
"Not there, baby." You flexed your hands into his, he let one of his drop, and linked your fingers with his— squeezing your palm in interest.
You turned towards the animal rescue centre, giving your lover a mischievous grin and stepped beside him to open the door.
The spotted dalmatian looked up at you, glossy and doe eyed.
You cooed at it through the glass, the puppy wagging it's tail at the high pitched voice you were giving him.
"How come you never talk to me like that?" Your boyfriend had his hands on your shoulders, leaning on your crouched form and looking down at the small dog below him.
"Do you want me to?" You watched his reflection through the glass as he contemplated, spot shifting forms until it settled on a stretched thin line. "No." You snorted and continued sweet talking the puppy.
The dog-keeper smiled happily at the interaction between you and the small puppy.
"Would you like to take him outside?"
You turned your head towards her and nodded your head, sounding a pretty please — you put your hands on your knees and pushed up, standing straight again.
You turned to your lover, standing up on your toes, you smoothed your hands over his cheeks and giving his nose a little kiss.
"This feels demeaning." He pouted at you, hands grabbing at your coat.
You giggled lightly, resting the side of your face on his chest.
"It's not!," you gestured to the adorable puppy ",Look he's cute!"
John considered the tiny dog, slacking a bit under you, and conceding. "Yeah, yeah— whatever." You jumped up and gave his jaw a quick peck. "Exactly!"
You ran towards the back door, leading to the puppy playground.
Your lover called out to you— "I better still be your favourite Spot!"
"My number one, baby!" You called back.
He huffed despite his spot melting into a heart.
Two days later, when he woke up to a plethora of silly gifts, topped with adoption papers and a pink bow — He begrudgingly gave away his title.
+ bonus!!!
"You're just the most handsome spotty boy, aren't 'ya!" A squealing voice followed by a small 'ruff' caught your attention. You closed the door softly, and sneakily dropped your keys in the bowl, and snuck into your living room.
The sight of your loving husband cradling the puppy to his chest as he danced to an unheard tune greeted you. You smiled to yourself, biting your finger and watching him for a moment.
He spun slowly, and when his sight landed on you, he froze. He quickly, albeit gently, placed the small thing back onto the couch. The puppy rolling over and smiling up at you.
John cleared his throat, a closed fist to his throat, and after putting his hands on his hips to "act cool", he spoke.
"His name is The Dot."
You giggled behind your hand, going up and kissing his cheek, not before you pet Dot in passing. "Next time we're adopting a kid."
His spot widened and slid into a heart, blush coating his cheeks.
"And you're not naming them."
He laughed.
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heich0e · 4 months
Note
touya should NOT get in bed with you when you have as much as an hint of a cold, that man has the immune system of a wet rag, always heaving and wheezing. one sneeze and he's GONE, just a pile of bones and staples amen
but he DOES. (based on this post)
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"thirty eight point three."
your eyelids feel heavy as you peer up at touya, standing over you at the edge of your bed. between his fingers is the thermometer he'd just plucked from your lips once it beeped to signal it was ready to be read, and upon his brow is an unhappy furrow. his bright eyes flicker from the digital screen of the device to you.
"that's a fever," he says solemnly, as though delivering the gravest possible news.
"barely," you rasp, your throat somehow both sticky and dry at the same time, though you're not quite sure how that's possible.
"'s a moderate-grade fever according to Harvard Health," touya replies immediately, holding his phone out towards you. there's a webpage pulled up on the screen, but you're too tired to look at it properly. you recognize the insignia from the famous university in the corner, though, so you take his (and their) word for it.
"i told you: i just need to sleep it off," you mumble, squirming around under your blankets to get comfortable. "if i rest i'm sure i'll be better in a day or two."
you finally allow your leaden eyelids to flutter shut.
"you comfortable?" touya asks after a moment of letting you get settled. it's not the first time he's asked you that in the past hour since you came home from work feeling unwell. he'd helped you strip out of your work clothes, crawl into bed, then gotten you cool water, and some cough and cold tablets and the thermometer from the medicine cabinet. he's asked you if you're comfortable no less than four times in the process.
"yes, touya. this is perfect," you reply, cracking one eye open to peer up at him. he looks a little directionless as he stands at your side, a bit lost. "thank you."
"okay," he breathes out a little sigh, kneeling at the edge of the bed and moving to lift the blanket, just like he does every night as he crawls in beside you.
"wait!" you croak, holding the edge of the blanket down against his efforts to raise it. "you can't be in here! you'll get sick!"
touya looks affronted. mortified even at the suggestion. if he didn't love you so much you might even think he looked mad.
"the hell i can't," he scoffs, tugging the comforter a little bit rougher than before. you know you have no chance in a battle of strength, especially when you're sick, so you let it slip from your grip. instead, you sit up (with considerably more effort than it usually takes) and place your hands on his shoulders.
"touya, no," you insist, pushing with all your might against his frame to keep him out of the bed. "you're gonna get sick!"
"i don't care!" he counters, pressing all his weight against your palms as he endeavours ever forward into your shared queen-size bed.
touya was always sick as a kid, spending time in and out of hospital throughout his preteen and adolescent years. his immune system has never been strong, and though any major risks of compromise are unlikely now, you still don't want him to catch your cold—he'd likely suffer more, and take longer to recover than you will.
"i'm full of—ngh—germs!"
"so what? they're your germs. we're supposed to share everything, aren't we?"
touya's not particularly hulking, but his strength proves no match for your weakened state, and before you know it he's tumbling into the bed right atop you—nose to nose, chest to heaving chest, and one of touya's hands on either side of your head to keep you from a properly calamitous collision.
"you're impossible," you mutter to him sullenly, but you can't help but appreciate how nice it feels to have his warm body in bed with you. you shiver a bit, in spite of your fever, and relish in the relief his warmth brings.
touya wraps you in his arms, slipping easily into place beside you under the cover of your soft cotton sheets. you're not quite side to side nor front to back—you're on your side with one leg thrown over his own, your cheek pressed to his chest, and he lays facing the ceiling with his arm wrapped around your shoulders to keep you exactly where you are. it's familiar. comfortable.
"yeah, yeah," touya replies, his tone easy and lilting smugly with triumph as it rumbles through his chest. his grip tightens a bit more. you don't mind it. "i know."
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they-call-me-emmy · 6 months
Text
Stars
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JENNA ORTEGA X GN! CO-STAR READER
"Work buddies, that's all."
........................................................
Y/N POV:
God, you never expected to actually get the job. You'd auditioned almost for fun.
You were a small actor. usually played background characters, or main characters in lesser known movies. So when you signed up for Wednesday, season two, it was almost a joke.
Until you made it.
You'd been told only a month before shooting. Which, this alone shocked you deeply, as now you had to travel to Romania. What shocked you even more was the fact they didn't give you the role you had auditioned for.
They'd given you Wednesday's crush.
They told you it was a big role. One of the leads. You'd be an important character, so if you couldn't accept the role, tell them now.
So you accepted it.
......
Meeting Jenna Ortega was probably the most exciting moment of your life. She was excited to meet her partner for season two, and had come bounding up to you happily, headphones around her neck and a big smile on her face.
"I'm Jenna!" She told you excitedly. Her dimple was deep, her eyes sparkled with happiness.
"Y/N" you grin back, reaching out your hand to let her shake. She accepted it, your hands gracing each others, sending a spark through your arm.
"You're gonna be my crush in the show, right?!"
You nod, confirming her suspicions.
"Here, you can go over there to get a script. They want us to read them a lot, and if you need anything, I'll be in the make-up room." She told you, pointing to a table filled with stapled papers, and then to a room labeled "MAKEUP AND SPECIAL EFFECTS"
You nod again. "Thank you!"
"No problem!" She said, before skipping away. She must have had caffeine this morning, she'd never seemed this hyper in any interview or video you'd seen of her. She'd always seemed so laid back and chill.
Emma Myers suddenly stood next to you. You'd met you yesterday, and the two of you had quickly bonded. She read the confusion on your face easily.
"She definitely likes you." Emma stated, rolling her eyes.
"I would hope so, since we're working together for the next god knows how many months."
"No..." Emma sighed, facing you. "She LIKES you."
"No she doesn't!" you respond, scrunching your face up.
"She's never been that hyper in her life."
"She probably had coffee today." you tell Emma. "Like, a lot."
"She doesn't like coffee."
"Energy drinks."
"She has to maintain the sleep deprived Wednesday look anyways."
"Isn't she like, 20? No 20 year old I've ever met still leaps around because of a crush."
"She's 21." Emma sighs.
"We barely know each other."
............
"CUT!"
Jenna sighs, looking at you. "I swear, if we have to do this take one more time, someones losing their tongue."
"Woah!" You exclaim, tossing your hands up. "Don't go all Addams on me now, Ortega!"
She giggles and shakes her head. "I make no promises."
Time with Jenna was nice. You'd never thought a big-time celebrity like her would be fun to hang out with. You always thought they were work, 24/7.
But she was cool.
..................
"So...uhm, I was wondering if you'd...maybe you would...go...would you go to...to the cafe with me....like...the cafe with me...on a...on a...a date maybe?"
(Me speaking to my boyfriend be like)
You giggled, the actions reminding you of her scene last season where she had to ask out "Xavier".
"Yes Jenna, I would love to."
Like a scene straight out of a fucking show.
.............
"Hi Y/N!" She said, clutching herself tightly and smiling.
"Hi Jen!" You respond. She blushed, from the cold or the nickname, you couldn't tell.
She was wearing a brown jacket, her nose pink from cold. She had headphones around her neck and a smile on her face.
"So, the cafe..." She started. Pointing to a small shop, she said, "That way!" She quickly bounded off, leaving you in the dust.
"Jenna, wait!" You cry, quickly speeding after her. Luckily for you, she had short legs and you easily caught up with her.
Out of breath, you both stop in front of the cafe. The cold allowed you to breathe out puffs of chilly air. Jenna's cheeks were pink.
"We made it!" You mumbled, leaning forward and pushing the door open. You held it open and let her pass through.
"Thank you." She whispered to you as you followed her inside.
"No problem, m'lady." You joke, spotting a table for two and rushing to grab it.
You both sat down, facing each other.
"Do you wanna go order something...?"
Jenna nodded. "What do you want?"
"Uhm, just like a muffin or something."
She nodded, running into the line and shooting you a smile and a thumbs up.
You chuckle and wave back at her.
She orders and sits down at the table, handing you a muffin and seems to have bought herself a cookie.
"How much do I owe you?" You ask, taking a bite of your muffin.
"My treat." She whispers, wide eyed as she bit into her cookie.
....................
"I had fun today," Jenna said happily, skipping on the pavement.
"Me too," You chuckle. "We should do this more often."
She squeals and nods.
"Definitely!"
.......................
WOW MORE TRASH!
fuckn sucks ass bro
its okay tho because im 13 and suck at this shit.
294 notes · View notes
pablitogavii · 8 months
Note
Heyy can u do something about gavi's ear because of the match ? like the reader takes care of him something like that please 💗
Quiet times together
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When you saw the video of Pablo's bleeding ear on the overhead TV, you really freaked out getting off the chair in the box and peeking through the window to see the doctor cleaning up hi wound.
"I can't believe that wasn't a red card!" your friend said but you could really care less about any of that praying that Pablo isn't seriously hurt.
When the game was over, you couldn't wait to see him very nervous to look at his new injury. When he finished his interviews, he came to the family room and you rushed to give him a quick hug.
"No..no..don't cry princesa! We won and I'm gonna be okay!" he said holding your face and drying your tears but your eyes were glued on his stapled ear and dried blood around it.
"I got really scared Pablo!" you say and he smiled pulling you closer and kissing the top of your head lovingly.
When you pulled away and he took you to grab his clothes together, team doctor called you to say about possible sensitivity Pablo might feel for a couple of days after the pain medication he took stops working.
"Avoid any loud places for at least a week. You might feel a little dizzy if you push against your sensitivity" man explained and you took in every word promising yourself that Pablo will take it easy no matter what he says.
"Thanks doc! Ready for our date princesa??" Pablo said after grabbing his bag and you remembered the restaurant date you planned before the game this morning.
"There will be live music there Pablo, and I don't think we should do it..we can have takeout at home instead?" you suggest which of course made him whine and say how he wanted to treat you.
"And you will treat me..we are going to get comfortable and order our favorite Chinese food and watch some goofy movie together?" you say placing your hand on his face careful not to touch his wound and he smiled nodding his head while kissing your lips lovingly.
"And cuddles???" he asks adorably which made his friends tease him as they passed us but he didn't care at all. I pointed kissing his lips once more time while nodding my head.
"All the cuddles you can take mi valiente ganador!" you say and he giggled nodding his head while taking your hand walking towards the cars where you left with your friend and he took the bus with his teammates.
"Please make sure he wears these on silent mode while at the bus if it gets loud?" you said to Balde who promised on his life to take care of your boy all the way back home to Barcelona.
"There is nothing to worry about princesita mia" Pablo kissed your lips one more time before you two went separate ways but no matter what you will always worry about his health.
When you arrived home, the pain medication definitely stopped working since even your little louder greeting made his face cringe in pain. You puled him closer whispering a soft apology while kissing the side of his temple.
"I ordered the food amor. And made sure TV is on the lowest volume for the move..you want to shower?" you say and he nods clearly in a lot of pain and your heart hurt to see him like that.
When he got comfortable sitting on the sofa with your, the loud ring-bell made you both jump and him cover both of his ears in pain.
"Mierda! I got it amor! I'm so sorry!" you say but he whispers that it's alright as you went and grabbed the food from the delivery guy.
"I'm sorry we didn't go on our date amor.." Pablo was whispering while eating some rice and chicken and you smiled moving closer and kissing his shoulder.
"Don't worry about it..I would much rather be here with you anyway and I love taking care of you" you say and he blushed a little yawning and even a slight pull on the stitches made his wound sour.
"Could I lay on your chest tonight?" he asks and you smile widely nodding your head before taking his hand and walking to the bedroom seeing that he was done with his food anyways.
You both laid down and he laid his head on your chest while you placed your hand on his face caressing it gently while kissing the side of his sour temple. He smiled closing his eyes feeling so good that he didn't care about the pain coming from his ear. He nuzzled his head into your neck and completely relaxed. (gif).
"It's buzzing amooor.." Pablo whined and you told him to focus on the sound of your heartbeat instead and to try to get some well deserved rest tonight.
"Talk to me...I like listening to your voice princesa" he says and you blush a little thinking of things to say to the sleepy boy.
"I was so proud of you today Pablito..you wouldn't give up no matter what..you went back into the game and you played till the end. You're the strongest man I've ever met..my strongest man" you whisper and he listened carefully blushing at the compliment and holding onto your tightly while slowly becoming more sleepy.
"And I love you..su much cariño. Whenever I see you get hurt my heart hurts..and I just want to hold you in my arms and protect you from everything..because..you..are..my..life" you say feeling yourself getting emotional and Pablo looked up kissing your lips softly before laying back down on your chest.
"I love you too preciosa..more than I've ever loved anybody..mi vida" he spoke sleepily before finally slipping into unconsciousness and you smiled kissing the top of his head continuing to play with his hair until you also grew tired and fell asleep holding him in your arms.
y.n.bebe
Barcelona, Spain
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I'm not letting anybody hurt you mi bebé ❤️ tagged: pablogavi
comentarios:
pablogavi: gracias por todo amore mio ❤️❤️
y.n.bebe: siempre amorcito❤️❤️
gaviraafanzz: omg! she's so cute! take good care of him girl!!
barcafanclubs: clown for not giving that guy a red card!
fcbarcelona: our warrior.❤️
pablogavi: ❤️
pedri: come back stronger hermanito mio!
pablogavi: si hermano!
mikkykiemeney: so cute! 🥰
y.n.bebe: 😊
aurorapaezg: ❤️
y.n.bebe:❤️❤️
He is a true warrior! What STRENGHT, LOVE and DEDICATION for the club! That's our GAVI! ❤️❤️❤️
341 notes · View notes
Text
A FRESH START [21]
Din Djarin x F!Reader
Warnings: description of injuries, language, spoilers for S3 The Mandalorian, death of minor original character, self defense leading to homicide, groping of reader by stranger (not described in depth)
Word Count: 10k+
Updates every Thursday
Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night, you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you fall more and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.
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[a/n: i am so sorry this took so long i know y'all have been waiting all day for it. work was so hectic and i was so frazzled and it's been a long day hah. i know the tags at the bottom aren't all working right and i'm sorry about that but tumblr kept being a bitch and i was gonna lose my mind. speaking of taglists, i am closing AFS's taglist. anyways, hope y'all enjoy!]
#21: MADE OF THE RIGHT STUFF
.
"no one ever told me that grief felt so much like fear." -c.s. lewis
.
The Armorer had been a constant in Din’s life. She was a staple piece of the covert⏤ a figure of mentor ship in his upbringing. He had always greatly admired her, and her opinion meant a lot to him. It was why hearing her call him ‘Apostate’ had stung so badly. Coming from anyone it was a blow, but having the Armorer cast him away had been devastating. Being able to come before her, prove his redemption, and have her reinstate him had been a  sweet moment. If Din were a smart man he would’ve left it at that and been on his way. However, Din was a stubborn man. A stubborn man who would not leave this rock until he got what he wanted come hell or high water.
“She is an outsider.” The Armorer spoke in Mando’a. 
“Yes, but⏤”
“An outsider that you ask me to stoke the forge for?”
Din kept his entire body still to hide his nerves. “Yes. That is what I am asking.” The Armorer did not reply further. She stayed silent, seated by the forge with her hands laid in her lap. Din spoke up again, unable to resist. “She is made of the right stuff. The virtues of a Mandalorian. She may not follow the Way, but she understands it⏤ respects it.”
“You wish to court her?” The Armorer asked and Din gave a firm nod. “Have you presented her with a token of intention?”
Din thought to the blaster he had gifted you. Typically, a token of intention would be a weapon of some kind created for the intended. However, the blaster had once been his and it did not have his signet on it. Plus, it had been given to you while he was an Apostate. It did not count. “No. I have not.”
“This forge is for beskar, and I do not make weapons⏤”
“I am not requesting a weapon.” Din said firmly. He knew beskar was for armor. It was part of the reason his spear had been melted down to create Grogu’s chainmail. Din already had a plan for his token of intention. That was of no concern to him. “I am requesting a set of bracers with my signet.”
The Armorer’s head gave a slight tilt and he wasn’t shocked by her surprise. She rose from her seat and her hands clasped behind her back as she spoke. “You have yet to present this woman with a token of intention, yet you are requesting a token of ridduurok?”
“Yes.” Din replied. He knew how it sounded. Din was not blind to the weight of his request. However, it wasn’t as if he planned to present this to you the moment he returned. He was going to take his time, court you properly, and let you control the speed at which this relationship would move. Din was a man who was sure of what he wanted though, and he knew that was you. He had known that for quite some time now. There was no one else in this galaxy for him. People were constantly referring to you as his wife, and he always corrected them, but more than anything he wanted to be in the position where he did not have to. Din wanted it to be true. “I am sure of my decision and wanted to bring this decision to you sooner rather than later.”
“And if I refuse?” The Armorer pressed.
“I…” Din swallowed the lump in his throat. His hands clenched tight as they rested on top of his thighs. “I would be disappointed, but it would not stop me. She is who I want. She is… She is who I love.”
The Armorer hummed in response and it gave him no clear picture on where the figure head stood on this decision. She made the motion for him to rise from his seat. Din pushed up and tried to hide the tension in his frame. She finally spoke, but it was only to motion to the door and speak on a different topic. “Take your boy to the training yard. We will speak again.”
Din bit back a sigh and gave a tense nod. Well, it was better than an outright no. He turned on his heel to go find Grogu. As he walked, he lifted his vambrace to try and call you. Hours earlier you hadn’t answered, but Din assumed that meant you were busy in the clinic. It happened sometimes. Just as before, the signal did not pick up on your end and his steps came to a slow pause. An uncomfortable feeling settled in his gut. You were busy. His mind was jumping to the worst case scenario, but you were probably just busy. He forced himself to keep walking. Din would try again soon.
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Your ears were ringing, and you felt like you were trapped in a fog. There was a tugging on your arm. You lifted your gaze to try and find the source. Nima. It was Nima. She stood by your side, eyes wide in panic, as she screamed at you. She screamed but there was only the ringing. With a final tug, she dragged you up to your feet and the world snapped into focus.
Sirens. A siren was blaring and it mingled with the sound of explosions as fire rained down from the Corsair in the sky. “We have to go!” Nima screamed and your eyes snapped to her. “Come on! Move!”
Nima was pulling you down the road as the two of you got lost in the crowd of other panicked citizens. The smell of smoke burned your nose and you could feel the heat of various burning buildings as you passed. Your head was throbbing and with every step your vision would blur for a second before shakily coming back into focus. The flow of the running crowd picked up speed and panic as another bomb fell not too far away and your hand slipped out of Nima’s. You heard her scream out your name, saw a flash of her pink skin as she tried to jump and spot you, but she was swept even further away.
Someone slammed into you from behind and you went sprawling. Get out of the way. Get out of the way. This was a stampede and you needed to move. Unable to get to your feet quick enough you threw yourself to the side beside some rubble so you weren’t trampled.
While leaning against the rubble, you tried to catch your breath. Your arms were covered in the dust being kicked up into the air, but no immediate wounds. Hesitantly, you probed at your hairline and winced when you found a tender spot. Pulling your hand back your fingers were coated in a shine of blood. 
“Shit.” You breathed. That explained the concussion. 
Most of the crowd had passed and you glanced around to figure out where you were. The school house was up ahead which meant if you kept pressing down the street you’d reach the lava plains. With a grunt, you tried to jog forward⏤ in the distance behind you, the sounds of deep, excited yelling spurned you on. As you were passing the school the sound of a muffled scream brought you to a screeching halt. You paused, trying to ignore the pounding of your heart and the excited yelling getting closer. After a beat, there was another scream. Fuck, the schoolhouse. 
Your eyes darted to where you could see the edge of the city. Din would be so mad at you. You could almost hear his voice at the back of your mind barking for you to get the hell out of Nevarro. The scream came again and it sounded young. All you could picture was Grogu, scared and hurt, trapped in the rubble. That made your decision for you. If this had been your boy you’d want someone to stop for him. You sprinted into the school house and scanned the destroyed classroom. The back corner had caved in from a bomb. 
“Hey!” You yelled. “Can you hear me? Where are you!?”
“Here!” 
That was Wynn’s voice, Grogu’s teacher, and it sounded like it was coming from the space behind the pile of rubble. You hurried over and scanned the pile for a spot you could pull away. Wynn was making calming noises to a sobbing and hysterical child⏤ that’s who had screamed. You wrapped your fingers around a block and pulled it back. The large chunk of concrete shifted just enough that you could get down on your knees and crawl through. 
All of the rubble had blocked off one of the small back cubbies where the children would keep their bags. There you found Wynn, uninjured but covered in dust, clutching a familiar child in her arms. Elodie. You tried to bite back the gasp that threatened to leave you. 
“Hey, sweetie, it’s okay.” You said softly and crawled closer. “Do you remember me, Elodie?”
She sniffled, “You’re⏤ You’re Gro⏤ Grogu’s mommy.”
“That’s right.” You nodded and shifted so you sat right beside them both. Elodie’s blonde hair was covered in soot and you could see bright red blood on her shirt. Jaen and Dayen were probably out of their minds with worry. Maker. “Can you tell me what hurts?”
“Her arm.” Wynn mouthed.
Elodie was crying once more, and you reached forward to carefully touch her. Elodie let out a scream of panic and you tried to whisper reassurances. “It’s okay, it’s okay, sweetie. I’m gonna make it better.” You pulled her right arm away from her body as it had been cradling and covering the left one, and as soon as you did you felt the blood drain from your face. Still, you kept your features neutral. Her left arm was broken, her pale skin discolored in ugly shades of purple and red, and the bone itself had pierced out of her skin. That’s where the blood had come from.
“The other kids were out for recess. My assistant got them out, but Elodie had come back in to use the bathroom.” Wynn shook her head. The gentle woman was trembling. “I couldn’t move the rubble and hold her.”
You gave your pockets a pat, but the only item you had on you was some medical tape. “Dank farrik.” You muttered. “Wynn, where’s the school’s first aid kit?”
“Out by my desk.”
You spun and crawled back out of the rubble to find the kit. If the kit was up to date then you’d have the supplies you needed for a temporary patch job. It didn’t take you long to dig the kit out of the desk, but it was then you noticed the explosions had stopped. Everything had stopped save for the hooting and hollering in the distance. Shit. You raced back to where Wynn and Elodie sat.
“Alright, sweetie, I want you to look at Ms. Wynn, okay? Just her.” You said. You met Wynn’s gaze and she seemed to understand what was about to happen and nodded.
“Hey, honey.” Wynn spoke softly and shifted so she could hold Elodie’s head to face her. You dug through the kit while the teacher spoke calmly and kindly to the little girl who was still crying. The first thing you did was grab the medgun which was loaded with pain meds and punched the needle into her arm without warning. Elodie’s crying grew worse and you hit her with the needle twice more. Three doses was just below what would be too much for a girl her size. Then you grabbed the bacta spray and began to coat the open wound with it in thick layers. 
The numbing pain meds seemed to be working as her sobs turned to hiccups, but she was not going to like this next part. However, the sound of the attackers was growing closer which meant you were running out of a window to do this. You set one hand behind Elodie’s elbow and grasped her left hand with your other. Wynn saw the motion and held onto Elodie tighter. You gave her hand a sharp tug, drawing the bone back into place, and the scream that left Elodie’s little lips was haunting. It only lasted a second before her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she went limp.
��Elodie??” Wynn cried.
“She’s okay.” You checked her pulse and breathing. “The pain just overwhelmed her.” 
Quickly, you grabbed the gauze and wrapped it around her arm along with the collapsible splint to keep it from moving. The sound of a deep laugh while someone kicked around items made you and Wynn freeze. You carefully closed up the kit and motioned for Wynn to pull Elodie to the side and even deeper into the pocket you were trapped in. 
“I liked this place better when it was a bar!” A voice barked out and other men laughed. You were hearing at least four voices. “Look at all this shit!” The sound of furniture being tossed around made you wince. “Where’s Beetl with the liquor!?”
It sounded like they were settling into place and you mentally cursed.
The three of you were going to be stuck here for longer than you liked, and you just prayed Elodie stayed unconscious. 
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Din was getting nervous. So much so that he couldn’t even enjoy watching Grogu beat Paz’s son in a sparring match with darts. All he could think about was the fact that he wasn’t getting in touch with anyone from Nevarro. You still weren’t picking up his calls, and now he couldn’t get in touch with anyone else either.
He had to go back. 
“And you’re going to take Grogu with you?” Bo Katan questioned.
“He goes where I go.” Din replied. Grogu grunted in agreement from his arms while Bo Katan shook her head in disagreement. He had told her a quick good-bye and to explain to the others where he was going. Din had a sinking feeling since this morning that he just couldn’t shake.
“Djarin⏤”
His vambrace chirped as a message came through and Din let out a breath of relief seeing Mayfeld’s name. Din shifted the call to his helmet. “Mayfeld! What the hell⏤”
“We got trouble, boss.” Mayfeld blurted. His voice strained. “King Gorian Shard is here. His Corsair is raining fire down on Nevarro. We evacuated the city and⏤”
“Soran.” Din blurted your fake name, the one you still went by. “Where is she? Is she alright?!”
“I’m sure she’s fine⏤”
“You’re sure??” Din barked. “You have eyes on her?! Mayfeld! Do you have eyes⏤”
“I saw her and Nima running out of the city when this all started.” Mayfeld snapped, the sound of blaster fire filled the other line before he spoke again, “We’re trying to keep the pirates away from the citizens, we’re out in the lava plains⏤” Din felt like he was going to be sick. That wasn’t enough. That wasn’t enough reassurance for him. “Mando!? Mando, are you listening!?”
“I’m coming. Just keep them safe. Please get Soran to call me when you see her.”
“It might be tough. The Corsair is jamming our communications. We’ve been trying to get in contact with you this entire time but⏤”
The call cut out and Din was already moving. Bo slid into his path and he nearly bowled her over to get past. She held her hands out and forced him to a stop.
“What is happening?”
“Nevarro is under attack. Gorian Shard brought his Corsair and his men have infiltrated the city.” Din snapped. “Now move⏤”
“You can’t just go there alone.”
“Get the hell out of my way.” Din’s hand drifted to his blaster.
Bo let out a slow sigh and tilted her head. “Think, Djarin. What do you think you’ll be able to do on your own? You’re out gunned on this. You need back up.” Logic told him that she wasn’t wrong, but every fiber of his being was screaming for him to shove past her and get to the N1. “You’re wasting time here with me.”
“I know!” Din yelled, frustrated. “So get out of my way, Bo.”
“The covert is a community, is it not? A family?” Bo questioned. “You have some of the finest warriors in the galaxy here, yet you want to go to Nevarro alone?”
Din was shaking. A mix of anger and fear. Grogu tilted his head up to gaze at him, wide eyes filled with concern. His son may not have fully understood what was happening, but he knew something was wrong. Grogu chirped, “Ma?”
“I get it. I do. But how much can you help this girl of yours if you run in blind and get yourself killed?” Bo pressed. She shook her head. “You drive me up the wall, Djarin, but I know you’re not a complete idiot. Think for a second here.”
With a frustrated huff, Din spun on his heel to find the Armorer. With every step he took, Bo on his tail, Din prayed to the Maker, and any other deity that may be listening, that you were somewhere safe. He was coming for you. Din would tear through any person who stood in his way. He just needed you to hold on a little while longer.
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Apparently, the pirates had decided to make the schoolhouse their new cantina. Never mind there was literally a cantina filled with drinks right in the middle of the city they could use. New voices would come in and out, laughing loudly and blindly firing their blasters, while you and Wynn stayed silent. Hours had passed. As unlucky as this entire situation seemed, you were thankful that Elodie was still out cold and that not a single one of the attackers was curious enough to dig through rubble.
You leaned your head against the wall and tapped on your communicator uselessly. It was dead for some reason. Maybe the attack had something to do with that. None of your calls were going out and if someone was trying to call you then it wasn’t coming in. You let your arm fall to the side and glanced over to see Wynn gently running her fingers through Elodie’s hair in a soothing pattern.
Poor Jaen and Dayen. You hoped they were alright and out in the lava plains with everyone else. If you were in that situation, stuck outside the city while Grogu was trapped Maker knows where? There was nothing that would keep you from racing after him. You’d claw the face off anyone who tried to stop you from searching for him. Despite knowing that fact, you still hoped someone was holding them back. The last thing you wanted was for something terrible to happen to them.
A loud crash made you and Wynn jump. You shifted so you sat between the only opening out into the main room and the little girl. Wynn wrapped her arms tighter around Elodie. Laughs followed the crash and it seemed like you were still safe⏤ for now. This wasn’t going to last. You couldn’t just sit here and pray a miracle happened. All it would take is one noise from the three of you or one of the pirates getting nosy and that would be it. Game over.
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The light that had been streaming through the hole in the ceiling, created from the rubble, had disappeared hours ago. As night settled over Nevarro this could be good or bad news. If you were lucky then with the darkness the pirates would drift away to sleep and give you three a chance to make a run for it, but if you weren’t lucky then even more people would drift into the school house to drink. Based on the setting, you were not having a lucky day and so far it seemed none of the men drinking were slowing down quite yet.
A soft whimper made you stiffen and you saw Elodie begin to squirm in Wynn’s arms. Wynn’s gaze met yours in a panic and you began to quietly dig through the first aid kit again. You couldn’t expect the young girl to stay completely quiet with an injury like that. There were a few more doses of pain medication. You hated the idea of giving her more than the recommended dose, but as long as you kept an eye on her vitals. Risk versus benefit. In this scenario, there was more benefit than risk currently. 
You pressed the needle into her upper arm and moments later her features evened out. You let out a breath of relief and leaned your head against the wall once more. This was a waiting game and that was your least favorite situation to be stuck in. With a slow breath, you let your eyes close for just a moment.
“Soran.”
A soft hiss made your eyes snap open, to see Wynn trying to grab your attention. You felt dazed and you were now lying on your side. You had closed your eyes for only a second, but the lighting had changed. It was still dark, but the dim glow of dawn could be seen through the ceiling’s hole. You pushed up and winced at the headache still lingering behind your eyes.
“Shit.” You mumbled quietly. “How long was I out?”
“Through the night?” Wynn whispered back. “I was worried. You were out cold.”
“Elodie?”
Wynn shook her head. “Still sleeping.” You turned your head to try and listen out for the main room. It was mostly quiet now, but there was still an artificial glow peeking through the rubble’s cracks. “I think most fell asleep, but they’re still out there.”
You shifted and reached out for Elodie. “Take a break, Wynn. Get some sleep.”
She nodded without much argument and you could see the exhaustion in her eyes. You wished you had woken earlier. It didn’t take long for Wynn to lay down and fall asleep herself while you curled Elodie in your arms⏤ careful not to jar her arm. Holding her made you miss Grogu, but you were thankful he wasn’t here. If anything ever happened to him you don’t think you’d survive it. Him or Din. That was a comfort you could take in this. Neither of your boys were here to possibly get hurt.
They were worlds away⏤ safe.
Maybe an hour had passed when Elodie began to murmur and move against you. You held her tighter to your chest and whispered that she was safe with you. A whimper left her lips and you winced. “Elodie, sweetie, you’re okay. I need you to stay quiet for me.” You whispered. Her bleary eyes blinked open and you ran a hand through her hair. “It’s me. You’re safe with me and Ms. Wynn. Everything is okay.”
“I want my mommy and daddy.” Elodie began to cry. You buried her face into your shoulder to muffle the sounds of her sobs.
“I know.” You mumbled into her hair. “I know, sweetie.”
Elodie cried for a while, but it slowed to harsh and tired breathing. She was awake and clinging to you with her good arm. You continued to run your hand through her hair and murmur how brave she was and how proud her parents would be. This seemed to marginally calm her. 
The sound of shuffling grew closer to the rubble and you felt your entire body stiffen⏤ on edge. It didn’t seem like he was looking for anything and moments later you heard the sound of peeing off to the sound of the rubble. Your nose scrunched in disgust but you supposed it could be worse. The man began to talk to some others and you listened as closely as you could to try and count the number of people in the room. As the glow of dawn spread across the sky, you really needed to get out of here. Elodie was stable, but she needed proper medical care.
Wynn woke up when you hissed her name and you shifted the little girl in your arms to her. They both stared at you in alarm as you crawled slowly and quietly toward the rubble blocking you in. As you got closer you laid on your belly and shuffled closer. You were low enough to be able to peek through the entrance, but you stayed as far back as you could to remain out of sight just in case one of the men was facing the rubble.
“How long do we gotta stick ‘round here?” A man scoffed. Someone threw a bottle and you heard the glass shatter with a wince. “Can’t we go?”
“You wanna tell the King what to do?” Another snorted. “Be my guest, idiot.”
A third man chimed in and they seemed to go in circles. Three in total then? Unless one was quiet, but you sincerely doubted that. It seemed like every soul that swung through here couldn’t keep their mouth shut. You crawled back deeper into the pocket to settle beside Wynn and Elodie.
“We need to get out of here.” You whispered. “I have a plan. I’m going to distract them⏤”
“Wait⏤”
“⏤and while I do that, you’re gonna take Elodie out the back and use the alley to get Elodie to the lava plains. It’ll be a straight shot. Just stay off the main street.”
Wynn shook her head. “This is dangerous. You’re putting yourself in an awful situation. Maybe we should just stay.”
“We’re tempting fate just by sitting here, and Elodie needs further medical care.” You argued. “This is our best bet.” Wynn still didn’t seem convinced, but you had already made your decision. In your career, you needed to rely on gut calls. Instinct. No time for hesitation. It was best if you did this now before more men showed up. “I’m gonna make them chase after me, and as soon as they follow you need to take Elodie out the back door. Do you understand?”
Wynn nodded after a moment. “I do. Just please be careful.”
Before you could lose your nerve, you crawled back toward the rubble entrance and tried to listen and figure out where each man sat. If you had to guess, you’d say they were on the other side of the room which worked in your favor, and the front door was a straight shot. The issue would be going from on your knees to running without tripping over or being shot. Once again, you heard Din at the back of your head telling you what a reckless and stupid idea this was. That was always a good sign, right?
You sucked in a sharp breath, waited until you heard the men burst into laughter, and then pushed out. It all moved in a blur. You stumbled over your feet, trying to get off your knees, you heard the men shout in alarm, but you kept moving. They were jumping up, yelling at you, but you pumped your arms to sprint faster toward the door. You took a sharp turn right out the door and ran down the street towards the city’s center⏤ away from the direction Wynn and Elodie would need to go in.
Glancing over your shoulder, you saw three men following. Good. Your plan fell apart when you turned your head to see where you were running only to collide into a firm body that sent you sprawling to the concrete ground with a grunt.
You tried to jump up, but a boot pressed down on your chest keeping you pinned on your back. A thickly built Twi’lek stared down at you with a sickening grin. His skin was a dark shade of purple and you could see an injury on his side that stained his clothes with blood.
“Well, well,” The Twi’lek hummed, “Aren’t you just adorable?”
“Oh, come on, Kiff.” One of the men who had been chasing you complained. “We saw her first!”
The Twi’lek, Kiff, shook his head and glared at the men. “Is there a reason you left a civilian alive? You had strict orders.” He drew his blaster pointing it at the men first who shuffled back a step and then he pointed it down at you. You stiffened, your hands gripping his boot, and he just smirked down at you. An excited anticipation glowing in his dark eyes. This man was looking forward to killing you. “Any last words?”
“You’re going to die.” You blurted the first thought that came to mind. His face furrowed at the threat, but you shook your head and pointed at his side. “That injury. I’d guess you have an hour at most.”
“It’s nothing. I was just grazed. Not even bleeding anymore. Nice try.” He huffed.
You were lying through your teeth, but he didn’t look like a man who knew much about anything. You kept your voice calm and firm. “I can see the bruising from where your shirt is torn. It’s not bleeding externally anymore, but you are bleeding internally. That’s where all the bruising is from.” He swallowed once and you kept on. “Right now, I bet you feel fine. Barely hurts. Give it another half hour and you’re gonna be in agony. Look at me.” You motioned down to yourself. “You think I’m wearing these scrubs for the fun of it? I’m a doctor, you ass.”
“Then I guess that means you know how to fix it.” He spat at you. Kiff put his blaster away and reached down to snatch you off the ground. You were barely on your feet when his hand clamped around your throat painfully tight. You clawed at him, trying to loosen the grip, but he didn’t even flinch. “Fix it. Now.”
“Clinc.” You gasped. “I need⏤ Clinc.”
Kiff threw you aside and you sucked in as much air as you could while trying to stay on your feet. The other pirates were still watching as Kiff buried his hand in your hair and held on like a leash. He leaned forward to press his lips near your ear. “Lead the way, bitch.”
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It had taken hours too long to get to Nevarro. Din was thankful for Bo, thankful for his covert, as they agreed to help, but as his ship entered Nevarro’s atmosphere and his eyes landed on the smokey and still burning city beneath a monstrous Corsair, Din lost his breath. You were down there. You were in that mess.
“Ma? Ma!” Grogu was slamming his hands on the N1’s window. Din scooped the boy up to bring back to his lap and tucked him under his bandolier as a makeshift seat belt. 
Bo’s voice came over his comm unit, checking in to see if Din was still on board with the plan, and he was forced to agree. She was going to drop a unit of Mandalorians down to the city streets to fight, but it was up to him and Bo to take care of King Gorian Shard’s ship. As he got near, he saw a group of civilians nestled out in the lava plains. Were you there? You had to be there. Din could not wrap his mind around any other situation. 
“Let’s get this done.” Din barked gruffly over the communication line.
The sooner he burned Gorian Shard’s ship to the ground, the sooner he could find you.
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The clinic was in shambles. Most of the structure itself looked intact, but a group of pirates must have ran through to scavenge for supplies because everything was sloppily tossed around. The hand tangled in your hair was roughly pulling, making your scalp ache, as you let him shove you forward into the main clinic space. You had a plan. It was a very, very bad plan, but that seemed to be the theme of the last 24 hours.
“Well, get to work then.” Kiff threw you aside before climbing up onto one of the cots. You straightened your posture and tried to steel your nerves as you approached him. He stared at you, eyes following your every moment, as you reached out to peel his shirt up. You pretended to examine his skin. “How long is this gonna take?”
“Depends.” You muttered⏤ your throat felt raw from his grip earlier. 
Kiff’s hand trailed down your side until it reached your backside. He kneaded his fingers over your ass, groping and pulling you closer, and it took all your strength to keep a steady face. You knew he was looking for a reaction. 
“I think you just wanted to get me alone.” Kiff hummed arrogantly.
“I need to grab the cautery.” You said and turned to walk toward your desk. He slid off the cot to grasp your hips and you felt a terrifying chill run down your spine as your skin crawled in disgust. “You should stay seated.”
“I think I’ll follow along.” Kiff leaned forward and you tried to ignore him as you continued toward your desk. He follow only half a step behind, large hands groping where he could reach, and you felt his hot breath on the back of your neck. When you reached the desk, your shaky hand reached for the top drawer. Kiff leaned into you, pinning you between his hips and the side of the desk, as he chuckled. “I could fuck you right here, right now. How’s that sound?”
A while back, Din tried to convince you to carry the blaster he gave you on your person at all times. You argued that a doctor shouldn’t be walking around locked and loaded. Din didn’t love your argument, but the two of you settled on a compromise. You wouldn’t wear the blaster on your hip, but you’d keep it within reach at the clinic. 
Your hand wrapped around the blaster’s grip, your finger clicking off the safety as Kiff was distracted by feeling you up, and without pause you spun and fired. He was so tangled around you that the shot only clipped his side, but it was enough to make him grunt in pain and stumble back. 
“You bitch!” He roared.
Not giving him the chance to say anything further or even to reach for a weapon, you fired again. And again, and again, and again. Your finger pulled the trigger over and over. Even after the fourth and fifth burned through his chest and he lay on the ground with blank eyes, you fired more. In fact, you didn’t stop until the blaster overheated and slipped from your shaky hands. If anyone deserved to die it was a piece of shit like him, but you had taken an oath to do no harm. You had lost patients before, that was the nature of medicine, but you had never deliberately taken a life before. 
Nausea rolled through your body as the stench of burning flesh met your nose. It was familiar to you, but only through procedures and operations. Never like this. Never caused by your hand. Panicked, the voice at the back of your head, the one that sounded like Din, pleaded for you to pick up the blaster and run. You wondered how hard you had hit your head yesterday to be hearing his voice like this. You picked up the blaster with trembling hands and hurried out of the clinic.
Lava plains. You needed to get out of this city. 
The sound of a firefight was filling the air as you began to sprint down the street, but a very familiar sight sped by overhead in a blur. The N1. Your feet came to a screeching halt. Din. Din was here. Din had come. Hot tears rolled down your cheeks in relief. You were still in the midst of a war zone, surrounded by fire, smoke, and danger, but just knowing that Din was in the vicinity came as an incredible comfort. Stumbling forward again, you tried to send out a call through your communicator once more, but it still seemed dead.
Just keep moving. Din was here now which meant everything was going to be alright. Just keep moving.
You had made decent progress down the road when the sight of a familiar body filled your view. Wynn. It took a beat before you rushed to their side. Wynn was lying on her chest so you cautiously flipped her over and a soft groan left her weary lips. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the significant wound decorating her abdomen. A blaster shot. Her dress and skin were charred from the heat of the blaster fire, but it clipped deep enough to hit an artery. That was the only explanation for the amount of blood you were seeing and the continued steady ooze. You applied pressure to the wound, to try and stop the bleeding, and Wynn didn’t even whimper in pain. Her just fluttered.
“Hey, it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay.” You said, trying to convince yourself more than her.
“Elodie…” Wynn gasped.
“Reinforcements are here. You just gotta hang on⏤”
“She ran. I told her to run.” Wynn pushed the words out. “They ambushed us. I⏤I tried⏤ I tried to hold them back.” You pressed down on her abdomen harder. The blood seeping through your fingers. You bit down hard on your lower lip and tried not to cry out at how useless you felt. You knew the odds of this injury, you were fighting fate currently. “Find her⏤”
You shook your head. “I will. I will, but I have to take care of you first. You’re bleeding⏤” Wynn’s shaky breaths came to a stop as you watched the life leave her eyes. “No, no.” Frantically you felt for a pulse and when you didn’t find one, you began CPR. Desperate. Was this your fault? Maybe you should have stayed in the school house. Had you made the wrong call? After three short rounds you fell back on your heels with a shaky gasp. “Wynn?”
Her unseeing eyes stared blankly up at the sky. Tears were rolling down your cheeks again and when you tried to swipe them away you felt her hot blood, still fresh on your hands, smear across your cheek and you gasped. You tried to use your scrub top to wipe it away. 
Elodie. You had to find Elodie. Wynn’s blood was on your hands, figuratively and literally, but you had to save Elodie. You gently closed Wynn’s eyes, whispering an apology, and stumbled away. The blaster was back in your grasp and you were desperate.
“Elodie!” You yelled. Not giving a single damn if the pirates heard you. The sound of blaster fire echoed down the streets just as it rang in the air overhead. “Elodie!” You were weaving in and out of buildings as you were able and peering down any alley you passed. “El⏤”
The heat of a blaster bolt screamed past you only narrowly missing you. You threw yourself to the ground as more fired in your direction. The pile of rubble you hid behind took most of the blows, but you could hear the yelling of your attackers growing closer. Shit. Shit. Shit. Blindly, you lifted your hand to try and fire a few shots of your own, but if it made contact with anyone you didn’t hear it do so. You tried to scan the region, looking for an escape, but the two paths you saw involved running out into the open. You wouldn’t survive that.
Right as you began to try and force yourself into accepting the terrible decision of making a run for it. Louder, rapid blaster fire filled the air and the attackers screamed  briefly before it all fell quiet. Someone had killed the men firing at you. The enemy of your enemy was your friend right? Hesitantly, you peered around the rubble and the sight of Mandalorian armor made you jump back out into the street.
The Mandalorian, a large man in armor decorated in shades of blue, carried a black turrent and it swiveled toward you at the sound of your approach. You held your hands up in surrender. “Please! I need help!”
“The path is clear.” The man barked out in a deep voice and motioned down the street. The direction you knew would take you to the lava plains. “Go.”
“No, I⏤ There’s a child lost here.” You rushed to stand in front of him. His broad frame towered over you. You had always thought Din was a large Mandalorian, but this guy may as well have been a building with legs. “I need help finding her.”
“I will seek out the child. You leave the city.”
“I’m not leaving her behind.” You glared at him.
He stiffened and maybe you had just gotten good at reading Mandalorian body signals from Din, but you could tell this man was glaring at you through his helmet at your disobedience. “This area is not fully secured. Leave the city and I will⏤”
“You can’t kill pirates and search for a little girl at the same time.” You snapped. “I’ll stay and we can⏤”
“You will go⏤”
“Look at me!” You barked out with the same confidence you used to command any other emergency you had encountered. The Mandalorian looked taken aback at your tone. You kept your shoulders tight, solid, then spoke in a firm voice that gave no room for argument. “I am going to find Elodie, and you are going to mow down any pirate that gets in our fucking way. Do you understand? This is a team effort. I am not leaving that little girl behind. So either you help me, or I do this on my own.”
The Mandalorian was fuming at you. At least, that’s what you were assuming based on the silent gaze he was burning down into you. This was not debatable. You lost Wynn. You would not lose Elodie. Over your dead body would anyone hurt that little girl any further. Finally, the Mandalorian blew out an irritated sigh and bobbed his head down the street.
“Move then.” He ordered.
You pointed down an alley to the left. “I’ve already been down that way. We need to cut here to search further.” 
Without waiting for his response, you marched down the alley. Only a second passed before a heavy hand clamped down on your shoulder and roughly dragged you back. The Mandalorian scoffed. “I have the weapon. I stand in front. Understand, wero’ika?”
“Fine.” You replied. You recognized the sound of Mando’a but didn’t know the word he used. It didn’t linger long in your mind though. The two of you were pushing down the alley and despite the Mandalorian telling you to keep quiet you continued to yell out Elodie’s name. More blaster fire, getting closer, made your heart pound even harder in your chest. “Elodie!”
“I said you need to⏤” The faint sound of a response only barely reached your ears and you shushed the Mandalorian. “Did you just⏤” You shushed him again and tried to listen. His next word came out in an irritated growl. “Wero’ika.”
“I hear her. I hear Elodie.” You blurted and sprinted past him. 
His thundering footsteps stayed only a step behind you and the Mando’a words he was spitting out under his breath were all the curse words you had heard Din use a time or two. You came to the edge of an alley, right where the blaster fire was loudest, and the Mandalorian shoved you behind him once more just in time for a bolt to bounce off his beskar covered chest. Your eyes frantically scanned the street and it took you three times before your eyes found the little blonde girl tucked in a ball and sobbing as people fired over her head.
“There!” You took a step forward to try and peer out but the Mandalorian yanked you back barking something out in Mando’a. “I wasn’t gonna run out there yet! I was trying to see if there was a path I could use to get to her.”
“I will lay cover fire and you will use that time to get to the girl. Do not,” He emphasized the command, “Leave that spot until I come to you.” You nodded once, but he did not budge. “Speak. Do you understand me, wero’ika?”
“Yes! Yes, alright!”
The Mandalorian grunted once in approval then he stepped out of the alley. The black turrent he was holding open fire and the red bolts leaving it rapidly was a sight to behold. So shocked by the weapon’s range of destruction you paused until he barked out at you. Elodie. Right. You sprinted out of the alley and made a beeline for her hiding spot. The Mandalorian was firing to your right, where the pirates stood, but to your left was a wall of Mandalorians. At least three of them. Had Din brought an army of his kind?
You slid to your knees beside Elodie, setting the blaster down, and wrapped your arms around her. She screamed and squirmed, but you held on tight. “Elodie! Sweetie! It’s me! You’re safe!” You yelled over the loud blaster fire. “You’re alright!”
Her wide eyes, filled to the brim with watery fear, landed on your face and she began buried her face in your chest with sobs. Elodie’s injured arm was still wrapped up with the splint but blood was seeping through the bandage once more. You could barely understand her through her cries.
“Ms. Wynn⏤ She⏤ We⏤”
“I know, sweetie. You’re okay.” You tried to reassure her even as your stomach flipped at the mention of her teacher’s name. “Come on.” You scooped her up into your arms and she wrapped her right arm around your neck in a death grip. “Keep your head down, Elodie. Alright? Don’t look up. Just close your eyes and keep your head down.”
You felt her nod against your shoulder and shifted so you’d be crouched down, out of range, but ready to go when the Mandalorian got to you. Big Blue, as you were so kindly referring to him in your head, was still firing at the pirates but was making steady steps in your direction. The other Mandalorians continued to drift up to add to his onslaught and when they stepped side by side with him, Big Blue peeled off to rush to you. 
“Up!” He grunted, and you didn’t hesitate to listen to him then. With Elodie in your arms, you rose up and Big Blue spun you around to march toward the city’s edge and away from the battle. He kept his body pressed close to your back and every once in a while you’d hear him grunt as blaster fire pinged off his beskar. 
The three of you shifted around a mess of debris when suddenly a pirate jumped into your path. Big Blue reacted quicker than you did and he spun the both of you around so his back was acting as a shield once more. You fell to your ass, with him draped over you in protection, as the pirate rained blaster fire onto the man. On more instinct than thought, you let go of Elodie with one arm to grab the blaster tucked in Big Blue’s holster and after flicking off the safety you rapidly pulled the trigger blindly. It took multiple bolts before you heard the pirate cry out in pain and the attack ended. Big Blue glanced over his shoulder and once pleased with what he saw he shifted off of you.
“Mirdala, wero’ika.” Big Blue grunted with a nod of approval. You held his gun out to him which he took and re-holstered then he reached down to bring you back onto your feet. The sound of an explosion made you both jump in alarm, but it came from the Corsair overhead. You watched in shock as the smoking vehicle began to careen into the side of the mountain Nevarro City was nestled against and go up into fire and ash. “Come.” Big Blue pulled you to his side to try and get you moving again. “We still need to get you both to safety.”
As Big Blue guided you through the streets and the sight of the lava plains came into view, a breath of weary relief left you. The Mandalorian next to you caught you off guard by setting his hand on your shoulder and giving it a small squeeze.
The fight was over. Your brain supplied familiar words that Din had said to you once before.
The danger has passed.
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Din was frantic. After landing the N1, and leaving a crying Grogu with Peli, he began to rush through the throngs of civilians looking for a familiar face. Looking for your face. As the seconds ticked by fear gripped him tighter and tighter. What if he had been too late? What if you were still in the city? Shoving past people, more roughly than he probably should have, he finally spotted someone who could point him in the right direction.
“Vanth!” Din barked and rushed to where the man was seated on a makeshift cot. He looked worse for wear. One arm was wrapped in a sling and dried blood was splattered in his hair on the right side of his head where a line of staples held together an ugly gash.
Vanth’s bloodshot eyes glanced up and at the sight of Din he shakily rose. “Hey, brother. You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
“Are you alright?” Din asked and after Vanth nodded, in the same breath, he added, “Where is she?”
Din didn’t need to clarify who. Vanth swallowed roughly and let out a haggard sigh, “I don’t know, Mando.” His blood ran cold. “Last I heard, Mayfeld is on the search for her. I got put out of commission pretty early in the fight.” Vanth winced with every breath and word spoken. “Little doc junior, Aayla, has been patching everyone up best she can since…” 
Since you were missing.
“The fight is over now. Anybody hiding in the city will start coming out.” Vanth tried to reassure him but it fell on deaf ears. “Mando⏤”
“Sit. Rest.” Din carefully pushed Vanth back onto the cot before moving on. 
He’d scour the entire city if he had to. Din would tear down any remaining buildings left standing if it meant finding you. This was what he did, right? He hunted. His rushed steps were nothing like the calm and collected image he tried to uphold as he hurried towards the city. All his worst fears seemed to be crumbling down on him and the beskar he wore felt suffocating. Din pushed out of the crowd, nearly broke out into a sprint, when he hard your voice. Faint. It really made no sense that he’d even be able to hear it over the lively crowd and the pounding of his heart in his ears.
However, as if drawn to it, his feet came to a stop and he turned. There you were. The parents of Grogu’s friend from school were sobbing hysterically as they held a little girl in their arms. You stood right in front of them with Paz a step behind you. It was an odd sight that left Din with more questions than answers, but all his mind could focus on was you. The rest of the world may as well have grown blurry and dim.
You were in a pair of your scrubs but they were dirty and torn. Dried blood stained the front and sides. Your hair was a mess and even from the distance he was at, he could see the exhaustion radiating from your frame. Din was moving before his mind was even aware of his body’s choice. It was you. You were right there. You were standing. You were breathing. You were safe. Maker, Din felt his heart leap up into his throat as he struggled for a gasp of relief.
Din couldn’t find his voice to cry out to you, but as if you were drawn to him as well you turned and met his gaze. His feet stuttered at the sight. Dried blood covered your features, mixed with dust and soot, and there was a wound on your hairline he could see clearly. The skin around your neck was darkened with bruising. You looked like you were in shambles, but that fire he loved still remained in your gaze. Your pretty eyes burned with life and energy and determination.
“Din!” You cried and he didn’t even register the fact that you called out his name in public. He was too thankful to hear it in your voice once more. You broke out into a sprint, to meet him halfway, and as soon as you were close enough Din snatched you into his arms in a bruising grip. Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck as your face buried into his shoulder and if Din wasn’t so worried about jarring any of your current injuries he would’ve crushed you even tighter in his hold. “Din, I⏤ Din. Din.” Your body shook with sobs as you struggled to find words. For a beat all that could spill out was his name, but every time the sound left your lips Din felt the tight coil of fear in his chest loosen. “You’re here.”
“I am. I am, ner kar’ta, and I’m never leaving again.” He murmured to you. A promise. Din’s gloved hand buried itself in the back of your hair to pull you even closer. It took all of his strength to not rip his helmet off right now. Redemption be damned. “Ni ceta, ner kar’ta. I’m sorry. I am so sorry. I should have been here.”
The only reason he was able to tear himself away from you was to examine your wounds. The injury at your hairline had scabbed over and it seemed the only other injury you had were the faint bruising around your neck. It would worsen before it got better and it was not lost on Din that the darker shade was in the shape of a hand.
“Who?” The word left his lips in a near growl. Din cupped your face and tried to swipe away tears, dried blood, and soot. His hand trailed down to lightly brush against your neck. “Who did this?”
“One of the⏤ One of the pirates. It’s a long story, I⏤” You took in a shaky breath and Din could see how close you were to crumbling. “He’s dead. I… I shot him. With the blaster I keep in my desk. I shot him.” Good. Din could see the heartbreak in your eyes, the pain, and he hated more than anything that responsibility had fallen onto your shoulders. That you had been forced into that position. Truly, you had done the pirate a favor⏤ shown him mercy. Because if he were still breathing, Din would tear the bastard apart limb from limb. “I lost your blaster. I’m so sorry⏤”
“Don’t. Stop.” Din leaned his head down to press his forehead against yours. He took in a slow breath. You were here. You were safe. You were in his arms. Din’s heart finally began to calm. “All that matters is you.”
Your hands had found his neck and the way your fingers dug through his collar told him that you were as desperate as he was for skin to skin contact. Din just needed to reassure himself that you were fine. He wanted to run his hands over every inch of you to ensure that nothing was wrong. That you were fine. It was a craving not born of lust, but concern.
“Grogu.” You breathed out in a ragged gasp. “Where’s Grogu? I need to see him. I need⏤” Din’s eyes darted over your shoulder where Elodie’s parents were still smothering their child. Something had happened in the city, you had obviously saved that girl in some way, and Din knew your desperation to see Grogu had something to do with that. “Din?”
“He’s alright. He’s safe.” Din wrapped his arm around you tightly, not willing to let go quite yet, and began to lead you back through the crowd to find where Peli was. People called out comments of relief and comfort to you as he led you through. It seemed he hadn't been the only one worried about you.
The sound of Grogu’s cries could be heard and you rushed out of Din’s arms to find the source, “Grogu!?” Din paused as he spotted Peli holding the boy as you rushed toward them. Grogu’s cries were halted and replaced with panicked wailing as he squirmed out of Peli’s arms to jump into yours. You collapsed to the ground with the boy buried in your chest. “Hey, baby. I’m here. I was so worried about you.”
Grogu continued to cry as you whispered reassurances to him. A small smile pulled up the corner of Din’s lips. For the first time in hours, he felt his shoulders relax. He took a step forward, to join his family, when familiar steps settled beside him. Paz crossed his arms and watched the reunion between you and Grogu as well.
“She saved that little girl.” Paz spoke with a hum. “She’s brave. Reckless, but brave.”
“I know.” Din replied, beaming with pride. Everything he had said to the Armorer had been true. You may not have taken the oath, walked the Way, or adorned a helmet, but you were Mandalorian through and through. It was in your spirit and soul. 
Paz nodded. “That is the one you spoke of? The woman you plan to court?”
“Yes.” Din didn’t add that you were the woman he planned to marry as well. It didn’t need to be said now or like this. Just knowing was enough for him.
“But you have yet to present her with a token of intention?”
“Not…yet.” Din turned his head to look at his brother with suspicion. .
“Hm. Perhaps, I’ll offer her a token first.” Paz chuckled. Din barked out a curse and it only made Paz laugh harder. You had risen from the ground and glanced over at the noise. Paz slapped his hand roughly against Din’s back, making him stumble, and then gave you a firm nod. “Good work, wero’ika. I was proud to share the battlefield with you.”
Din continued to glare at Paz’s retreating figure, but at the sound of your approach his gaze softened. You were still holding Grogu close to your chest as if you were afraid someone would come and snatch him away. Din understood the irrational fear. It was why as soon as you were in reach he pulled you and Grogu into his own arms. With another sigh, Din let his eyes flutter close as he rested his head on top of yours while you leaned into his chest. You were safe. His family was back together. 
What more could he ask for?
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mando'a translations
Ni ceta: I'm sorry Mirdala: clever Wero'ika: little problem Ner kar'ta: my heart
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taglist:
@aheadfullofsteverogers @yyiikes @kneelforloki @c-ms1ut @sgt-morgan @luthienaliceisilraa @fawn-kitten @missbabyjay @coldlamaspersonspy @dilfsaremyfavourite @jamesbuckybarnes @yorkeylover @teawrites01 @emily-roberts @djarinxore @impala1967666 @shelbyteller @faithrenner @dindjarindude @dankfarrick29 @rh1nestonecowg1rl @garbo-lesbo @anythingforattention @tearfulsolace @onceinamando @catharinaroxastova @uwu-i-purple-you @modiddys-blog @stagerightlauren @mini-bees @xxinvisblexx @adoringanakin @sagegreensensei @spidey-3 @sydney-1209 @thepascalofus @hrtsforpascal @banana-lol @daybleedsintonightfall11 @lil-dragon-draws @guccistardust @ideajpeg @harriedandharassed @leithatnight @elfamosotoga @damnzelsoul @the-anchored-sailor-girl @morks-watermelon @katelynmarieyt @taylorann2013 @chonkercatto @dheet @liadamerondjarin @fallinallinmendes @missdicaprio @jennaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @alphaash99 @djarinsmixtape @pcrushinnerd @closedaddition @thelovelyhann @harrys-sunflower-bakery @mayaaaaah @theway-thisis @javicstories @ezzynf @bravotwelve @cookielovesbook-akie @coolbanana44 @kittenlittle24
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elbiotipo · 1 year
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I'm not kidding when I say worldbuilding is extremely easy and fun, you can make easily all sorts of new fantasy worlds on like half an hour, follow this guide:
take a rectangle, draw a line through the middle, that's your equator, draw another two lines south and north, those are your tropics, draw another two lines further north (you can see a real world map to guide yourself), those are your arctic/antarctic circles
Draw continents, any shape you want, it's better to combine large soft blobs (like Africa or South America) with coastlines full of peninsulas and islands (like Europe or South Asia). Draw some island chains in between where you feel it's appropiate. Some inland seas like the Mediterranean are good too.
Decide where you will place mountain ranges. In real life, they are where oceanic-continental plates (Andes) or continental-continental plates (Himalayas, Alps), collide. These are very important.
Place rivers, just the most important ones. The places where you place big river systems are gonna be big plains.
Now, the fun part. With your first step, you've already decided where arctic, temperate, and tropical climates are there. You can mark it as letters in your map. Mountain ranges, of course, are colder.
Here's the tricky part: vegetation: vegetation mostly follows precipitation, and precipitation is mostly decided by altitude and distance from the ocean. The interior of your continents should be dry with plains and deserts; the coasts should be rainy with forests and plains. But remember, if you have a mountain range, that's a rain shadow! Picture the wind coming from the ocean with rain, and it should get less rainy when it "clashes" with a mountain range, with the other side a desert.
Deserts are tricky to place, but as a quick cheat, you can place them in your tropic lines. They can even border oceans: see Australia and the Kalahari.
WHEN IN DOUBT, LOOK AT SIMILAR AREAS ON A REAL WORLD VEGETATION/CLIMATE MAP. THIS IS WHY DRAWING THE EQUATOR AND THE TROPICS IS SO IMPORTANT AND SHOULD BE YOUR FIRST STEP ALWAYS.
Now you already have a quick and dirty vegetation map, you're halfway there! Don't worry if there are some doubtful areas, real world geography can be weird.
Now for the REAL fun stuff (if you aren't having fun already, I sure am): making civilizations!
You have to decide center of origins for your domesticated crops and animals. Basically, every early civilization had its own "package" of staple crops and animals that are still used today.
With this, you can decide:
the primary civilizations of your world
roughly how different animals and vegetation are distributed, if you want an Earth-like world (for an quicker method, you can apply the biogeographical realms to your own continents as you wish)
A quick cheat sheet of centers of origin, what they have, and where you can place them:
(this is just a quick thing, do read the article it's so much better)
Middle Eastern: wheat, barley, cows, sheep, goats. Place them in a dry area with lots of rivers (the Fertile Crescent!)
East Asia: rice, soybean, oranges, pigs, horses. Place it in a rainy temperate area bordering the tropics.
Mesoamerica: Corn, beans, pumpkin, chilli, tomato. Place it in a dry area near the tropics.
Andes: Potato, quinoa, llamas. Place it in a mountain range.
Tropical South America: manioc, peanuts, pineapple. In the tropics.
Tropical Asia: Rice, banana, sugar cane, beans. In the tropics, again.
or, just straight up use this fucking map, it's so much better:
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You can mix and match the crops, animals, and such as you wish, and you should definitively read the wiki page on center of origins and see some other less known crops.
If you have non-human civilizations, of course they'll have different packages. Carnivore or subterranean civilizations might be very different. But at this point, your imagination should be flying already and I don't have to hold your hand here.
Now, you have a rough map of your world at the dawn of agriculture! Congratulations! Depending on the historical period you're setting your world, you can start to draw countries and civilizations. This is where it gets complicated again. I might have to make a part two... But just with this, you already have a new world to use as you wish.
I'll make a worked example later to show you how easy it is if you don't believe me.
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Distractions (Soldier Boy)
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Pairing: Soldier Boy X F!Reader
Summary: You're Soldier Boy's assistant and you're trying to prepare things for an upcoming premiere, but he has other plans. And he really wants your attention.
Warnings: 18+, minors dni, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, you know better than these mfs), fingering, creampie, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, bit of denigration, praising kink, choking, dirty talk, Soldier Boy bc yes he's a warning on his own, cursing. I'm not really following any plots or canons here, this is just porn w/ soldier boy.
WC: 3k
A/N: So yeah, I said I had a little something hidden in my drafts, and after thinking I don't give a fuck, I'm posting it. We all know soldier boy is a horrible person, there's no need to debate on it, I'm not gonna sit here and pretend he is, but hes a lot of fun to write and hes fucking hot and I want to fuck him, shitty or not, so to anyone who wants to fuck him as much as I do, here's whatever the fuck this is. Enjoy you sinful fucks.
Soldier Boy Masterlist
Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated!
“Ben.” You hissed, moving your head and nudging him away with your shoulder when you felt his lips on your neck. 
He sat back in shock, taking a minute to process the fact that you actually shoved him away, “Did you just—”
You tore your eyes away from the pile of papers in your hands and you looked at him. His green eyes were glued to your face and you had to clench your jaw to stop yourself from laughing at the genuinely offended look on his face. You have been his assistant for a little over six months, you had gotten used to him whining and complaining whenever he didn't get his way. It hadn't even been a month when he was already bending you over a table and fucking you senseless simply because he wanted to. You were pretty much done for then. So it was nearly impossible to tell him no after that. 
“I’m trying to look over your goddamn talking points for tomorrow’s premiere, so yes, yes I did.” You reminded him with a sarcastic smile as you held up the pile of stapled papers in your hands. He snatched them from your hand with a scoff. 
“The fuck do I need talking points for?” He asked as he eyed the printed words as well the written notes and scribbles you had made on the paper. 
“Because unlike what you have been led to believe, you can’t actually do or say whatever the fuck you want in public.” You sighed, it was like you were talking to a teenager. You took the papers from him with annoyance and returned to scribbling and crossing things off and tried to ignore him huffing and puffing next to you. 
“That’s funny because I can do whatever the fuck I want. And right now I want to fuck you stupid over this couch, so I’m gonna do just that.” He said as he grabbed your jaw and turned your face towards him, kissing you hard. 
You gasped against his mouth but you were melting into it merely a second later. It took all of your willpower to not give in. It was nearly impossible to say no to Soldier Boy, but fuck were you going to try. You held yourself together, standing your ground, despite that part of yourself just screaming at you to do as he told you. You whined against his lips and pulled your head back. You almost missed the look of both annoyance and neediness he gave you. He didn’t take kindly to being told to wait. 
“Ben I’m serious, I have to finish looking over these because Mr. Edgar will have my fucking head if you go off your script again.” You sighed, running your fingers through his thick hair. He rolled his eyes at you and slightly smacked his lips with equal irritation. 
“Does it look like I give a fuck?” He scoffed, holding your jaw with a tight grip, he wasn’t taking no for an answer and you knew that. “Just a quick fuck. Then you can do all the boring paperwork shit you want.”
You narrowed your eyes at him and bit your lip, almost giving in, almost, “It’s never just a quick fuck with you. I can barely move after, let alone think about work.”
“Awe, I do fuck you stupid, huh sweeatheart?” He smirked and tilted his head as he eyed you with a smug glint in his eyes. You glared at him and pulled your head away from his grip, turning your body away from his entirely. Now you just wanted to fuck with him. 
“You’re insufferable,” You said with distaste, going back to your papers. You completely missed the way his jaw twitched, but you did hear him inhale sharply. 
“You know, you’ve lasted longer than any other assistant I’ve ever had, they don’t even last a month, and yet here you are, so I can’t be that insufferable.” 
“Oh, you are insufferable, trust me, I can’t stand you either most of the time, especially when you won’t let me do my fucking job,” You started to say, not looking in his direction, but you felt his weight leave the couch and you saw him stand up out of your peripheral vision. Huh, you couldn’t believe that actually worked. “I don’t think any of your other assistants had the amount of patience I do, because being around you is like being around a spoiled teenager twenty-four seve— Hey!” 
You looked up at him with wide eyes when he stood in front of you, took the papers right out of your hands and threw them behind him, out of your reach. You glared at him as you stood up to grab them, but when you did, he grabbed you with ease and threw you back on the couch. Your back hit the armrest and you were about to protest when he grabbed your ankle and dragged you so that your back was fully on the couch. He spread your legs apart and settled between them before you could protest. 
“And, none of my other assistants dared to speak to me the way you do. So maybe I should remind you who’s in charge here.” He said gravelly, eyes dark as he laid a hand flat on your collarbone with enough force to hold down with just that one hand. His body was also on top of you, you wouldn’t be able to move even if you wanted to. Which you didn’t, not really. 
His lips came crashing down on yours hard. You gasped against his mouth, and he took the opportunity to invade your mouth with tongue. You could taste the faint whiskey on his tongue. He took everything and gave you nothing. He was kissing you so hard you didn’t notice the trip grip he had on your shirt and before you realized, you felt a harsh tug and you heard the fabric tear. The shirt fell in two pieces on opposite ends and you groaned against his mouth. 
“Dude again? Stop ruining my clothes.” You complained but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it, the way he could manhandle you like that. He didn’t look bothered at all, there was a smirk on his face, if anything he looked proud. 
“Be thankful I’m letting you walk away with panties this time.” 
His mouth was back on yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth with ease as his hands did quick work of getting rid of your pants. He tore them off your legs along with your panties with ease. He thankfully didn’t tear the fabric of either this time, he could be careful if he really wanted to at times. You were completely naked under him, and he was fully clothed still. Though, thankfully, you didn’t have to go through the hassle of taking his entire suit off since, at times, when he knew you were both completely alone in his penthouse, he would ditch the suit and would dress in comfortable clothes. Your hands found the end of his shirt and you tugged it up. He pulled back and pulled his shirt over his head before he was leaning down again. His lips found the skin of your neck and he sucked, hard. You gasped when you felt his teeth dig into your skin, surely leaving a mark you would have to cover for tomorrow’s premiere. 
“I'm gonna have that there tomorrow you know.” You muttered to him as he pulled back and eyed the spot that would soon turn a shade of purple with a proud smirk on his lips.
“Good, maybe then you won’t have corporate assholes kissing your ass all night if they see you’re fucking a real man.” There was a certain hint of possessiveness in his tone as he spat into his hand with equal harshness.
“Not that anyone would actually know who that is, because you won’t tell anyone about us.” You pointed out with a bit of harshness of your own. You didn’t know why it bothered you that he wouldn’t go public, probably because it meant this wasn’t anything serious to him. And as much as you knew you coukdnt expect anything out of him, it did bother you and he knew that.
He looked at you, face turning serious for a moment and he leaned down, planting a hard kiss to your lips, “Trust me sweetheart, we’re better off. You don’t want Vought to use you as PR, I don’t want you to be, okay?” He cocked his eyebrows at you, expecting a response. He rested a hand on your hip while the other one ghosted over your inner thigh. You didn’t want to argue with him about that now, you already were craving him, your mind foggy with want and need for him, you weren’t in the right state of mind to have that conversation, so you simply nodded. 
“Good girl.” He smiled at you, pressing a sloppy kiss to your mouth before he pressed his fingers against your already wet core. You whined softly and squirmed under his much larger body. He caught the way your eyebrows narrowed and your lips parted, and he smirked, spreading the wetness over your clit.
“Fuck,” You cursed under your breath, a sigh of satisfaction leaving your lips as he rubbed small circles over the buncle of nerves. He watched your face with amusement as he slipped two long fingers into you. He said nothing as he worked you open with his fingers, simply listening to the increasingly loud moans that came out of your mouth each time his fingers curved against you. “Please Ben, I need you.”
“Hold on, I don’t want to hurt you.” He muttered, scissoring his fingers with urgency. Despite being as needy and desperate as you were, him being the one who wanted you in the first place, he wanted you to come first, he had learned his lesson trying to take you without foreplay.
But honestly? You didn’t care, you just wanted him. 
“I’m not going to break. I can handle you.” You whined, shaky hands coming to tug his sweatpants down his hips, or at least attempt to. He really wanted to control himself. But fuck, if you were begging him? Fuck control.
His fingers quickly left you. You shivered softly at the sudden emptiness, but that didn’t last long. Ben tugged his sweats down past his thighs, his cock springing free against his stomach. Your eyes unconsciously traveled down and your lips slightly parted at the sight. He chuckled smugly, loving how you always seemed to worship him at times. He leaned down, using one of his arms to brace himself above you as he guided his cock to your entrance. You hooked your legs around his torso and braced yourself. He slid into you with ease, already rolling his eyes back at the feeling of your walls squeezing him. 
“Fuck you’re so—” He groaned, his hips shifting as he sat still for a second and he soaked in the way your lips parted and your eyes rolled back with pleasure. “—Fucking tight. You’re already squeezing the fuck outta my cock.” 
He gave you a second before he was drawing his hips back and slamming back in with enough force to make you scream. Well good thing he had a whole penthouse to himself, you could make as much noise as you wanted and nobody would tell him shit. Not that anyone would otherwise. 
You had to bite your lip to stifle the sounds that wanted to come out of your mouth. He was relentless, he fucked you like it was his mission. With each thrust of his hips, he went deeper, hitting your most sensitive spot over and again once he found it. He gripped your hips roughly, slightly lifting them off the couch to meet his thrusts at an angle that had you screaming. And while his grip was bruising and his movements were rough, he wasn’t hurting you, something he learned after months. You always thought he would break you, but he never did, nor would he ever dream of it. 
“Stop biting that fucking lip or I’m gonna bite it for you. Let me hear you scream for me.” He demanded, gripping your jaw with a tight grip as he gave a particularly deep thrust that made you scream. “Yeah, just like that.”
You were squirming under him, your thighs clenched around him and you were squeezing him so tight he knew you had to be close. Soldier Boy was one smug motherfucker, he lived off his pride and ego, and he’d be fucking damned if anyone ever said he didn’t please his women. 
“Fuck Ben!” You cried out as he pressed his thumb to your clit, rubbing quick circles on the swollen bud, that combined with his already unforgiving pace, you pretty much lost it. 
He pulled you into a sloppy kiss, happily swallowing your moans as you trembled, your orgasm washing over you. He fucked you through it, groaning when your walls squeezed him and your juices made him slip in and out of you with ease. Your head was spinning and you were shaking, but you were coherent enough to still feel Ben above you, his pace not once faltering or slowing down. Supe stamina you guessed. 
You were about to speak when he grabbed your hips and flipped you over, your stomach flat on the couch but he pulled your ass up. He held your hip with a bruising grip as he slammed back into you. You pressed your forehead against the couch, your mouth falling open into silent scream as he sunk into you again. You didn’t know if you were just sensitive or fuck drunk, but you could already feel the coil in your stomach after he gave you a few more thrusts. Your eyes were filling up with tears and you could feel a burn in the pit of your stomach. 
“Ben wait— I can’t—”
“Yes you can sweetheart. Just give me one more and I’ll leave you be.” He panted, close to tipping over the edge but not quite there yet.
“Ben,” You whined, squeezing your eyes shut, the overstimulation making tears slip from your eyes and your legs shake. You felt a shiver run down your spine when you felt his lips on your spine, his tongue running over your skin. He stopped at your neck, he left a trail of wet kisses before he pressed his lips against your ear.
“You’re my good girl right? You’d do anything I tell you to?” He coaxed, his voice deep and smooth, enough to make you want to come right then and there, again. You nodded, not trusting your voice. “Yeah you fucking would. So come for me, now.” He demanded, his hand slipping down your body to run your sensitive clit and the overstimulation was enough to send you over the edge, again. He sat up, pulling you flush against his chest as he fucked you through your high. His hips actually faltered this time. 
“You’re still on the pill right?” He rasped in your ear, the hand that had been on your hip now resting on the column of your neck. You somewhat registered his words in your fucked out brain and you half nodded, you had a feeling you knew why he was asking. “Good. Yeah, you’re gonna be a good little slut and take everything I give you.” 
Not that you would say no, as pathetic as it might’ve been, you’d do anything he told you, you’d take whatever he gave you. And he loved that, just as much as he loved shutting you up. 
“Fuck, fuck that’s it,” He moaned, his hand squeezing your neck tight enough to bruise, but not enough cut off your air entirely. He turned your head and kissed you hard, tongue slipping into your mouth as he sunk into you one more time before he spilled inside you.
You both sat there, he held you as you both tried to normalize your breathing for a while. You could feel the mixture of releases slip down your thigh but you didn’t care. You closed your eyes as Ben said dirty praises into your ear. And when you were no longer shaking, he unwrapped his arms from you and slipped out of you, the mess he left seeping out of you and coating the couch. You couldn't be less bothered by this as you simply laid on your stomach, eyes still closed and your body sore and arching. You didn’t come out of your little trance until you felt Ben leave the couch and chuckle lowly. 
“Clean yourself up sweetheart, you're making a mess.” You could hear the amusement in his tone, he was fucking with you. It still annoyed you enough to make you open your eyes and flip him off. He laughed. “Don’t you have work to do?”
Oh right.. Work. Totally forgot about that in between all the fucking. 
“Shut up. Just leave me be.” You muttered still in a drunken state of bliss. The last thing you could think about was work. 
“Whatever you say sweetheart. I was just thinkin’ I could run you a hot bath, have you relax while I finger that pretty little pussy ‘til you’re coming all over my fingers again. Then we can go to bed,” He paused, waiting to see your reaction. He successfully caught your attention and you lifted your head, your eyes finding his playful green ones and he continued. “But hey, if you want to sit here all night doing this boring shit nobody will actually give a fuck about tomorrow because I’m gonna say whatever the fuck I want anyway, be my guest.”
“You’re gonna have to carry me then, I don’t trust my legs with walking.” You hummed, flipping onto your back and you looked up at him, catching the smirk on his lips and the glint in his eyes. 
“Trust me sweetheart, you won’t be doing much of that either after I’m done with you tonight.”
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i4bellingham · 1 year
Text
ATTENTION: pablo gavi x reader
SYNOPSIS: in you're stumped with school works and gavi just wants you to spare him some time for cuddles.
NOTE: my first ever gavi fic hooray! *pops confetti* i literally wrote this instead of fixating my time to do my school works but i realized that school works doesn't give me a peace of mind unlike writing fanfiction does so of course i’d rather be here than do my school stuff-
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If he could burn the pile of folders and papers stacked on your study table, Gavi definitely would.
But since he knows that it's important that you finish them and submit those papers to whichever nuisance gave them to you in the very first place, Gavi simply scoffed, pouted his lips, crossed his arms over his chest before the door closed right in front of his face.
You literally closed the door in front of him when he's sulking because hey! He can behave himself when you're studyingㅡ or doing those god forsaken school works.
You didn't have to shut him out, but you did. And that made the 18 year old frown even more before walking away, deciding to stay in the living room instead.
On the other hand, you began filing the papers that were due at an earlier date, placing them to your right and separating the rest to the left.
It was such a pain in the ass but you needed to graduate, at least one between you and Gavi needs to finish their studies for the sake of your future, your own future. And it's immediately concluded that it'd be you, seeing as how much Gavi already flourishes in his sport.
And you wanted to make a name for yourselfㅡ not wanting to be known simply as Gavi’s significant other when you know you can pave a way for your own success, hence why you're trying your best in college.
You are aware of Gavi's current disposition after you slammed the door shut in front of his face.
He had the tendency to be a tad bit overdramatic, clingy and just borderline possessive of your time and attention. He wants all of it to be directed to him but after a few months of competing with your resolute drive to do well in your studies, he had to make the adjustments in himself.
And as much as it pains him, he's actually very proud that you're steering your path to where you want it to. No matter if he has to fight inanimate papers for you to pay a semblance of attention to him, Gavi is happy and proud of you, knowing well that college in general wasn't an easy path to take and you're diving into it with determination and confidence.
Sighing, you began flipping through your tasks, wanting to finish a good portion of it just as much as you boyfriend.
-
It wasn’t until 4 hours later since you've started, already managing to finish 5 activities and 2 drafts for your literary essays when your phone pinged.
-
from: gavi 💛
around what time are you gonna pay attention to me?
-
You snort, pausing from stapling your papers as you lean back on your chair. You began typing your reply.
-
to: gavi 💛
i literally just talked to you not even 20 minutes ago when you brought me food
-
from: gavi 💛
SO?????
-
You chuckle, picturing him rolling his eyes at your response.
-
to: gavi 💛
just how much attention do you need pablo? 🙄
from: gavi 💛
ALL OF IT??? IS THAT EVEN A QUESTION
-
You shake your head, closing your phone before pocketing it and then turning the lights to your desk lamp off.
You stretched your body for a few minutes, releasing a groan when you hear your joints cracking before walking over to the door, twisting the knob open and letting yourself out.
Gavi was lying down on the sofa when you reached the living room, feet on the back rest with his head hanging at the edge of the seat.
“You’ll get dizzy when you stay in that position for much longer Gavi.”
Gavi turns his head to you with a sigh. “You were gone for hours.”
“Well I'm here now aren't I?” You pat his cheek, moving to sit down next to him.
Gavi lays his head on your lap, throwing his phone on the coffee table before wrapping an arm around your waist.
“I was bored.” You can almost hear the pout in his voice as he close his eyes, nuzzling his face on your stomach as you began running your fingers through his hair.
“When are you ever not bored?”
“When you're with me.” He immediately replies. “I don’t get bored when you're with me.”
You roll your eyes playfully, throwing your head back against the soft cushion. “What do you peg me for? A comedian? A clown?”
“A nice company.” He tilts his head, chuckling at the way your mouth went agape at his answer.
You clear your throat before flicking his forehead.
“You’re such a smooth talker aren't you?”
Gavi grabs your free hand, kissing each knuckles before placing it over his cheeks.
“Just with you...”
You don't say anything, you don't comment on how red his own cheeks had gotten. He doesn't say add anything too.
Gavi pats the space beside him, silently asking you to lay with him and you silently do. He reaches a hand out to brush away the stray hair that fell on your face, letting you adjust yourself comfortably beside him with your head now over his chest.
Gavi wraps an arm around you, entangling your feet together before he leans down to kiss your forehead while rubbing slow circles on your back.
The two of you don’t say anything for a while, letting the silence prevail as you bask in the company of the otherㅡ Gavi's need for attention finally solved.
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stop-talking · 2 months
Note
I am soooo excited for the rest of your Derek fic your Mike fic was so good!!! It was everything I want from enemies to lovers so I can't wait for more 💕
So I'm stuck on this shithole island, and I can't even have a smoke? (pt. 2)
Derek Danforth x fem reader
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Word count: 3.1k
Tags: 18+, Derek x fem reader, no use of y/n, angst, enemies, enemies to lovers, fluff, (very) slowburn, sass, banter, misogynistic & violent undertones, (Derek is a prick), suggestive themes, mentions of drug use, withdrawals, rehab, overall mature content.
Part 1 Part 3
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Derek is pulled from his deep, trance-like sleep by the sound of someone calling his name.
He sits up in bed, blinking and swaying slightly as he adjusts to the light pouring in through his windows.
"Derek? C'mon, wake up."
Who the hell is knocking on his door? Everyone knows not to wake him unless it's urgent.
He stumbles to the door, nearly tripping over his own feet. Why is his head pounding? Is he hungover?
"Fuck d'ya want?"
Derek opens the door, ready to chew out whoever is on the other side. He stops when he sees you, and suddenly remembers everything that happened last night.
Beach house. Three weeks. With you. Sober.
"I was thinking we could have breakfast?"
Derek blinks at you, unsure what to even say. He wasn't used to being woken up like this, and his head was still pounding. God, he wanted his vape already.
"Umm... sure. Let me..." He looks down at his clothing, a simple t-shirt and some sweats. He feels... naked.
"I'm gonna change." He mumbles, closing the door before you can fully take in his disheveled appearance. He doesn't like letting people see him without his usual clothing. Which, honestly, was anything but usual.
Today, Derek decides on a floral print button-up, and a nice pair of green slacks. He doesn't bother with a jacket or blazer, it's too hot for that. He finishes the look by adding a belt with a chunky gold buckle, and his staple, snakeskin boots.
After getting dressed, he moves on to his hair, putting a small handful of product into his curls. The frosted tips are relatively new, and Derek smiles at his reflection. He looks pretty damn good, all things considered.
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"Morning." You nod to Derek as he makes his way into the kitchen.
"Morning..." He mumbles back, taking a seat on a stool next to the island.
"How're you feeling?" You turn away from the breakfast you were beginning to prepare, just a gathering of ingredients really, and look him over.
He looks... tired. He's dressed in his regular clothes now... well, regular for Derek. You can't help but notice the way his leg bounces nervously, how he repeatedly reaches into his pocket, only to take his hand back out immediately.
"Fine." He answers flatly, turning and scratching at the back of his neck.
Hm. He sure didn't look fine.
"You know I'm here to help you, right?" You decide to take a risk and verbally prod him a little, just to see if he opens up.
He doesn't.
"Shouldn't you be cooking me breakfast?" He sneers, narrowing his eyes at you as you lean on the counter across from him.
Okay, that's enough sass.
"If you want to eat breakfast, you can help make it."
Derek scoffs at that.
"I don't cook."
"So you've said."
The two of you silently stare at each other for a few moments, Derek's eyes narrow while you remain calm and serious. Finally, he relents.
"Fuck are you even making?" He grumbles, shifting in his seat to peek over your shoulder at the ingredients you've gathered on the counter behind you.
"Pancakes." You step aside so he can see the box of pancake mix, and do your best to muster up a smile. He's grumpy, yeah, but not truly angry yet. Better not push him if an argument can be avoided.
"So... do you want to help me cook breakfast, or do last night's dishes?"
Derek looks back and fourth between you and the sinkful of dishes, frowning.
"...You said pancakes?"
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Derek grimaces as a bit of pancake batter splashes on his silk shirt from his sloppy whisking. How did he get roped into this? Cooking? Seriously?
"Is it supposed to look so... lumpy?" He asks, frowning as he lifts the whisk and watches the weird goop plop down into the bowl.
"Yeah, that's normal. Keep mixing, and scrape the bottom. You're doing great."
He sighs, but continues to whisk, more carefully this time. It's... not that hard, actually. Even if it looks lumpy and weird.
After a minute or so, you apparently decide he's done enough, and take the bowl from him.
"So... am I done?"
"...do you want to eat raw batter?"
"No."
"Then no."
Derek scowls, watching as you spray something on the pan.
"Then what am I-"
"Just wait. I'll explain."
He lets out a rather dramatic sigh, then leans against the counter and eyes you. As annoying as you are... he can't help but admit you're attractive. Just a little.
Soon, you're pouring batter into the pan and walking him through cooking a pancake. He's only half-listening. It should be easy. Let it cook on one side, flip it, let the other side cook. Right? Even he couldn't fuck that up.
"You ready to try?" You ask, giving him an eager smile. Damn. Okay, maybe you're more than just a little attractive.
Derek just nods and takes the bowl from you, pouring some batter into the pan, trying to mimic what you did. Unfortunately, he overshot his pour, and it spread out to fill almost the entire pan.
"It's okay." You assure him. "It'll just be a big one."
He resists the urge to make a stupid joke about his "big one", instead deciding to just shrug it off and move on.
"So.. how do I tell when it's ready to flip again?" He asks, shifting awkwardly as you both silently wait for the pancake to cook.
"When it starts bubbling at the edges. Look, there's already a few."
You point, and he leans down to watch it more carefully.
"...can I flip it now?"
"Yeah, go ahead. Just like I showed you."
Derek accepts the spatula you hand him, gently sliding it under the pancake. Okay... just flip it. No big deal.
He completely fucks it up. The oversized pancake folds in half over the side of the pan, batter splattering all over the stove. He jumps back in shock, then straightens himself and scowls when he hears you laughing.
"It's not funny." He glares at you, then turns his attention back to the sorry excuse for a pancake. It's half-cooked, dripping down the side of the pan and onto the stovetop.
"No, no... It's not. I'm sorry..." You choke out between wheezes.
"Make breakfast yourself." Derek huffs, throwing the spatula onto the counter and storming off.
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After taking a minute to calm yourself down from the laughing fit, and several minutes to clean up Derek's failed attempt at a pancake, you finally convince him to come try again.
"Here, I'll guide you through it this time." You place a hand over his as he holds the spatula, standing directly behind him and speaking in a soothing manner.
He glances back at you and shifts slightly, looking... nervous? No, no way. He's probably just still grumpy from earlier.
"C'mon, you only messed up last time because there was too much batter. You'll do fine." You assure him, giving his hand a light squeeze.
"Yeah... alright." He seems to stiffen from your touch instead of relax. Odd.
When it's finally time to flip it, you count down from three, then help guide him through the motion. This time, there's no mess. A perfect flip.
"See? You did great." You nudge him playfully with your elbow, giving him a grin.
"Yeah... I did." He mumbles and turns away, suddenly extremely interested in the bowl of batter.
Is he... blushing? You can't tell for sure, with his head turned, but the tips of his ears look a little... pink.
"Wanna make a few more, master chef Derek?" You tease him, leaning over to try and get a glimpse of his face.
"Calling me master already, sweetheart?" He quips back, turning to face you with a smirk of his own. Whatever blush you thought you saw is gone now, replaced by his usual cocky demeaner.
Of course he'd respond like that. Asshole.
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Derek remains relatively quiet throughout breakfast, focusing mainly on stuffing his face.
He chews slowly, trying to wrap his head around what just happened. So many emotions are running through his head right now that he hardly feels his throbbing headache.
The way you smiled at him. How you didn't give up on him when he messed up. Fuck, you even held his hand. Well, you put your hand on top of his while he held a spatula. But still, that counted, right?
"So... what's the plan for today?" He finally asks, looking up at you from across the dining table."
"What do you mean?"
"Like... what are we gonna do? Sit on our asses all day?" He scowls, and stuffs another bite of pancake into his mouth.
"If that's what you want."
"Itths noht." Derek shakes his head, mumbling through a mouthful of food.
"Gross. Chew your fucking food." You give him a pointed look, then take a bite of your own breakfast.
"Whatever. Seriously. If I have to stay cooped up in this house for THREE WEEKS, I'm going to go insane."
"You're already pretty insane."
"I'll get worse."
You laugh at that, and Derek frowns. It's not funny. He's completely serious.
"Well... if you're that eager to get out, how about we walk down to the beach for the afternoon? Spend the day in the sand?"
"Yeah... that sounds nice."
He quickly finishes up the rest of his food, eager to get out. And maybe also excited at the prospect of seeing you in a bikini. Just a bit.
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Around half an hour later, you walk downstairs, sporting a new bathing suit.
You study Derek, who's changed into swimming trunks. Cheetah print, obviously. Pfft. With the mullet and the animal print, he reminds you a lot of that one guy. What does he call himself? The... tiger king?
The thought makes you laugh, and Derek frowns.
"What's so funny?" He asks, eying you from the couch as he lounges with his feet up and his hands behind his head.
"Nothing. You look... nice." You nod to him, and give his body a quick once-over with your eyes. Definitely not checking him out. Not staring. At all.
Derek does the same to you, studying your choice of swimwear. You chose a one-piece swim dress, pink with a little pair of shorts built in under the skirt. It would be considered modest, if it weren't for the plunging neckline and the panel cut out of the back. Speaking of which...
"Hey, can you get my back for me?" You ask, holding up a bottle of sunscreen. That seems to break Derek out of his trance, and he sits up and pats the spot next to him on the couch.
"Sure, If you'll do mine."
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Derek is a little disappointed about your swimsuit choice at first, but then he takes in the low neckline. And the skirt... damn. He knew there was probably something under it, but he couldn't help but imagine there wasn't, just for a moment.
And now you're asking him to rub sunscreen on your back? Holy shit.
"Like this?" He asks, applying a generous amount of the cream to your back.
"Mhm."
He takes a little bit of liberty and gets your shoulders as well, gently rubbing your skin and tucking his hands under the straps of your swimsuit to make sure every inch is covered. He has to restrain himself from letting his hands roam further.
"Here, do mine for me." He drops the sunscreen bottle into your lap and turns, his back facing you.
Christ. Your hands on his back feel... heavenly. He bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from letting out a groan.
"There. You're all covered." You finish by giving him a quick pat on the shoulder, then standing up and stretching. Derek can't help but stare as you do, and suddenly, he wishes his shorts weren't so... thin.
He shakes himself and stands as well, heading for the door. As long as he has his back to you, you won't notice just how much he likes that swimsuit of yours.
Unfortunately... you don't fucking leave him alone. Of course.
"Wait, did you get the rest of your body?" You ask, grabbing the little beach bag you packed and scurrying to catch up with him.
"I'll be fine." He answers, shrugging it off and walking a little faster to stay ahead of you.
"That's stupid. You want to burn everywhere but your back?"
"I'm not going to burn, sweetheart. I just tan."
"Derek. At least get the rest of your torso. And face. Please?"
He winces as you finally catch up to him and grab his arm, but he's mostly calmed down now, so he just sighs and nods.
"Fine. But I'll do it myself."
You two walk down a wooden path that eventually gets buried in white sand as you approach the beach. It's beautiful, open and empty, untouched by anyone other than the Danforth family.
Derek sloppily applies sunscreen as he walks, slathering it on his torso, neck, and face. When he's done with his half-ass job, he turns to you and scowls.
"There. Happy now?"
"Hold on, you didn't rub it in all the way..." You gently swipe at his cheek with your hand, smiling.
"Stop that." He mumbles, pressing his hand to his cheek in the spot you just touched.
"Stop what?"
"Treating me like a child."
You seem taken aback by that answer, because you don't respond for a minute, trudging through the sand in silence.
"I'm not trying to treat you like a child. But your mom did task me with taking care of you, so..."
"Yeah, yeah. I know. I'm a grown man and I have a goddamn babysitter." He growls, though he can't really find it in himself to feel angry. Being taken care of... doesn't sound too bad right now.
"Oh, boohoo. Come on. Lets go swim."
"Uhh... I think I'll stay here." He mutters, sitting down in the sand and watching you make your way over to the ocean. When you had suggested spending the day in the sand, he'd assumed you meant... well, literally staying in the sand.
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You turn and frown as Derek plops down on the ground, refusing to budge.
"What? You scared to get a little wet?" You tease him, shouting to be heard over the waves. The cold water crashing over your ankles makes you shiver.
"No." He pouts, settling back against the beach bag you packed.
"Just... don't wanna."
That makes you even more confused. What's his deal? First he complains about being cooped up, then he refuses to go for a dip?
You trot back over to him, kicking up sand.
"Derek. Come on. I didn't do all this just to get blown off. Come swim with me." You tug on his arm, and he reluctantly gets up.
"I guess I could get my feet wet..." He scowls, looking at the ocean with disdain.
"You'll do more than that." You scold him, linking your arm in his and practically dragging him over to the water.
He makes a scrunched up face when the first wave hits him, washing over his feet and sinking his ankles into the sand.
When you try to tug him along further, he doesn't budge.
"I'm not getting in the water."
"Why not?" You finally ask, exasperated.
"I... I can't swim." He mumbles something, but the wind carries it away.
"What?"
"I can't swim." He groans, pulling away from you and burying his face in his hands.
This makes you pause, but only for a moment.
"Okay, then don't swim. Just come sit in the water." You make another grab for him, and he doesn't resist this time, letting you take him a few steps further. Once the water is about halfway to your knees, you lower yourself, and Derek sits beside you.
"This okay?" You ask, turning to look at him.
"It's cold. And wet."
"Yeah, that's... kinda how the ocean is."
You sit in silence for a few moments, until you finally clear your throat and speak up again.
"How have you gone this long without learning to swim? Don't you, like, host pool parties?"
"I mostly stick to the shallow end." He grumbles, shrugging the question off.
"Why not do the same here? Wade into waist-level with me?" You prod him with a finger, poking his side in a playful manner.
That just earns you a scowl.
"Because. There isn't a fucking shallow end in the ocean. It's... weird." He visibly shudders as he stares out into the endless waves, and shies back a bit.
You can tell this is a touchy subject for him, so you just sigh and let it go. Whatever. You can swim alone, right?
"Well, I'm going to go a little further in, you're welcome to join me."
With that, you stand and wade into the water, your walk turning to a paddle as the ground drops away beneath you. The ocean feels freeing, the gentle rocking of the waves lulling you into a trance-like state.
When you finally glance back at Derek, you see he's already sitting in the sand again, positioned so the waves can just barely reach his feet. Hm. He must really have a thing about the water.
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That night, Derek lies in bed, tossing and turning as he tries to fight away his many thoughts on the day's activities.
He thinks about cooking breakfast with you, how you held his hand and praised him for his efforts.
And oh god, your touch. He can practically feel your hands on his back still.
Then at the beach... you hardly reacted to his lack of swimming prowess. Though, he was still a little bitter you fucked off without him and left him to sit in the sand.
You made up for it tenfold at dinner, letting him help you in the kitchen. He didn't want to admit it, but he genuinely enjoyed learning to cook. Even if it did feel so... domestic.
He can still hear the words you spoke to him ringing in his ears as he shuts his eyes tight and tries to sleep.
"See? You've got it. Just like that."
"You're a natural."
"Keep going. Almost there."
Fuck. He couldn't squander his thoughts of you, no matter how hard he tried.
And that wasn't even his worst problem. You'd managed to distract him pretty damn well throughout the day, always keeping him busy with something.
But now, alone in his room, his head was pounding again, and all he wanted was a hit of his vape. Or maybe a shot. Or some blow. Just anything to get rid of the goddamn headache.
He groans and sits up in bed, and moves to do the only thing he can think to do. Go see you.
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Author's note: Oh man. I dunno if I'm gonna be able to keep doing this whole "posting one chapter a day" thing for much longer. I originally intended this chapter to be 2k words, maybe 2.5k at most, but sheesh. It grew into this... and I wanted to write more, but stopped myself. It's currently 3am and I've worked on this for around 6 hours today.
Also... why did I make Derek unable to swim? Idk. Tertiary plot? The man doesn't have many personality traits in the cannon other than "douchebag rich brat with mommy issues". I'm trying to keep him in character, but it's hard when the character isn't all that fleshed out to begin with, so bear with me here.
ANYWAYS, hope y'all enjoy! Now is your time to send in Derek Danforth requests... cuz I'm writing this as I go along. Who knows? Maybe your suggestion will make it into the next chapter. & thank you to the anon who sent the kind words <3
Part 3
113 notes · View notes
freshbakedbreadstick · 9 months
Text
No. 1 Party Anthem - Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader - Chapter Three
Past!Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader
Carmy Berzatto x F!Platonic!Reader
Richie Herimovich x F!Platonic!Reader
Summary: The promise of taking your return “one step at a time” seems appealing until you realize that it comes with being vulnerable. And being vulnerable makes you run. 
Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. Heavy spoilers. Mentions of death, toxic relationships, grief, angst, strained relationships, minor injuries, arguments/yelling matches, details of anxiety/panic attacks, bad coping mechanisms, mental health issues.
Word Count: 4.1k 
A/N: Hi besties ! ! ! Im so sorry this took so so so long for me to update, unfortunately life had other plans for me lol ironic how i'm writing about anxiety attacks while i myself was dealing with having one basically everyday . Don’t worry about me though , worry more about the heavy angst your gonna read lolllll anyways this one was fr a doozy to write and edit so take breaks when you need it but i promise things will get better in the next chappy ! ! Also, i made it extra long to compensate for my late post lolllll I still hope you all enjoy ! <3
Taglist: @marysucks-blog @shinebright2000 (your both sweeties ! ! ty for being on my taglist, extra love 4 u n for everyone who gets on the taglist <3)
Chapter One / Chapter Two / Masterlist
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The sky outside your window was a deep shade of blue with black bleeding into its edges. Not a peep of the morning sun had made it into the sky, keeping it a lighter shade of the usual night sky. 
Your hands gripped the edges of the sink as you looked into the mirror, the cold ceramic making goosebumps appear on your skin making you shiver in your pajamas. Your eyes traced your mirrored face, moving from the creases on your skin to the deep, dark bags underneath your eyes. 
You got no sleep last night as you were on the cusp of making a decision you weren’t exactly sure was a good one, but was a decision you wanted to make regardless: you were returning to The Beef and taking it one day at a time, just like how Richie said. 
You didn't even know why you were returning anymore, you just sort of felt a calling when you stepped foot in the kitchen you vowed to never return to.
Your shoulder twitched as you thought about the kitchen of The Beef. You could feel the ghost of Carmy's hand searing into the spot on your shoulder where he rested his hand for a brief second as he passed behind you.
With a shaky breath, you looked down and turned the sink on to splash some lukewarm water on your face. It was time to get ready. 
After quietly moving about mindlessly in your room, you were ready. From one of the many boxes shoved in the back of your closet labeled "The Beef", you pulled out ivory wide leg linen pants, covered in colorful pigments, a cropped sleeveless black top, and an oversized sweatshirt that had a graphic of The Beef on the back. You sighed, looking at your old 'chef' clothes. 
Suddenly, you were pulled into a memory. 
You walked into The Beef, grinning widely as you made eye contact with Richie who was behind the counter. There, he was preoccupied with counting cash from the register but instantly perked up upon seeing you walk through the front door.
You were wearing your ivory linen pants and cropped top as well as the oversized sweatshirt. It was a staple outfit you often wore when helping out at The Beef. 
Richie clapped his hands as you held up and lightly shook the white paper bag in your hand. 
"Hallelujah, my prayers have finally been answered!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands into a prayer formation. 
You snickered and placed the bag on the counter before gently opening it up. Richie then shoved his hand in the bag, making you laugh and scold him. 
As you two playfully bickered, a hulking frame walked over from the kitchen and over to the entryway that led to the front of the restaurant.
"What'd ya get me, baby?" 
You turned to the doorway of the kitchen where Mikey leaned against the frame, his toned body taking up the entire space. One hand rested on his hip while the other stretched up, gripping the top of the door frame. 
Noticing that you were busy ogling at your boyfriend, Richie took the opportunity to quickly grab his dessert from the bag and start eating it feverishly. 
You beamed at him, cheeks rosy, "I got us all our favorite cream puffs from the bakery down the street. The last ones too!!" 
Richie took another bite of his cream puff and groaned, mouth covered in sugar and muffled as we went on and on about how this was exactly what he needed after a long day. Meanwhile, Mikey let go of the frame and slowly made his way to you, eyes locked with yours. 
As he approached you, his gaze never left your own, making you flush. Fuck, his eyes were always so intense. 
You held up his own cream puff, making him lick his lips as he stopped in front of you. 
The world seemingly disappeared around you as he murmured quietly, only loud enough for you to hear, "Feed it to me, baby?" 
The front door slammed behind you, making you jump and grimace. 
"Shit…" you whispered to yourself, not meaning to make so much noise as to avoid waking up your parents.  
After locking it much more quietly, you grabbed your tote bag full of supplies and rushed down the steps to your car. The sky was still dark, but was lighter than before making you anxious about getting to The Beef on time. 
The streets were dead and silent as you passed the green lights. Occasionally, another car would pass by, making your heart race as you feared you would accidentally have your plans exposed early. After all, nobody knew you ended up making this decision to fully return. 
After parking a little down the street to keep your car hidden, you sat in your car, mind replaying the memory of Mikey. You can see the pink flush on his tan skin, making him look so... alive. You can see the way his chest rises as he breathes in, pink lips parting as he breathes out. His hair was well kept despite a long day at The Beef. Before you, he looked well. 
He looked alive. 
But he was dead. 
Your grip on the steering wheel weakened as your arms felt numb. Your hands had even begun to get sweaty, slipping down the steering wheel. 
Your Mikey was dead. 
It has been over half a year now that Mikey died. 
As you continued to sit there, the windows started getting foggy and the interior got stuffier and stuffier, making you feel like you were suffocating.
It's been over half a year since Mikey had died. 
Your right hand had begun to slide its way from where they fell onto your lap and to your tote bag, shaking. Your breathing got faster and faster, your heart racing right until… 
Your fingertips hit cold metal.
Your heaving chest froze, your shaking hands froze, it even felt like your rapid heartbeat froze. 
Slowly, your fingers curled around the keys and pulled them out. They jangled as you pulled them up to view. 
The keychains, all unique and worn down from years of being stuffed into pockets, bags, etc, glistened under the streetlamp. The small square keychain that contained a photo of you and Mikey, squished together but grinning during a trip to Coney Island years ago, seemed to glare at you as it turned in the air to face you.
You threw the car door open and shoved yourself out and onto the street, stumbling as you tried not to fall onto the cold asphalt. Hot tears streamed down cheeks, feeling out of place and unexpected despite your emotions in that moment. You hiccupped to yourself, trying your best to bite down on the sleeves of the sweatshirt to muffle your crying. 
“I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine,” you repeat to yourself, trying desperately to stop the tears from continuing.
You dragged your bag from out of the car, yanking it, body flailing forward as the heaviness of what was inside set in. You hurriedly locked your car and crossed the street, steps heavy as you rushed towards the back door of The Beef.
With a pause, you quickly wiped your face with your limp hands and took a shaky breath. The metal back door was slightly rusted around the metal edges, making it look old in a way that made you shiver as you thought of the night you came here and saw it for the first time in months. With your eyes squeezed shut, you twisted the knob of the door, hoping to find it locked.
Lucky for you, it still was.
You let go of the breath you didn’t realize you were holding in and brought your keys up to unlock it. By now, the sky had barely started to get specks of yellow and orange; you knew that any moment now Carmy would probably arrive. After all, you reminded yourself, he would be the kind to aim to arrive before anyone else and start prepping for that day’s meal service.
You quickly shoved the keys into the lock and it clicked open. After accidentally dropping the keys as if it was hot metal, you got back up and swung the door open, pushing forward over the threshold to turn on the lights. 
You blinked as the lights slowly illuminated the steel appliances of the kitchen and the white walls. It was completely silent, aside from the subtle buzzing of the fluorescent lights above you. It was oddly calming too, standing there in a place of chaos where there wasn’t any. It made the knot that had formed in the pit of your stomach slowly unwind. You were terrified that being in here, alone, would cause you to scream, cry, throw things, or just do something, but you were relieved to feel that you just… you felt… fine. 
Your feet shuffled across the kitchen and to the lockers. Instinctually, you went and stood in front of the locker you used to use and reached up to open it before pausing. 
With a quick step back, you hummed to yourself. You haven’t been there in so long and because Carmy has since taken over, there is a good chance that the locker you left abandoned was repurposed for someone else, but something inside you pushed you to unlock it anyway.
The locker clicked and creaked as you opened it, your eyes widening to find it empty. You eyed each corner before looking down to see a clean and neatly folded apron resting there. The sharpie writing underneath the logo of The Beef was smudged after years of washes and rewrites, but you could still make out your name in Mikey’s writing. 
You reached forward, the canvas fabric of the apron feeling soft under your fingertips as you gently traced the curves and corners of your name. 
Your throat tightened, making you pull your hand back fast, as if burned by the touch of the fabric. 
Exhausted at your own reactions, you rolled your eyes, “Fuck, this is so stupid.” 
You grabbed the apron and shoved your tote bag inside. After changing your shoes to some non-slip ones more appropriate for working in the kitchen, you threw the apron on.
The clean scent of fresh laundry invaded your nostrils, making you sniff as you realized that this was very recently laundered. Your eyes closed and your shoulders sagged, it must have been Sugar that found this somewhere in the mess of the office and cleaned it for you.
You wiped down the front counters and restocked the cups, knowing exactly where it was that all these things were kept in the kitchen. You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself as you noticed the paper sign you laminated and stuck to the wall where the cups, utensils, and plates were kept was still there after years. The paper itself was wrinkled and the writing was blown out, having suffered a water related accident courtesy of Richie before you decided to laminate it and stick it back on. Your writing said ‘Please place all disposables here! Thank you (:’ and underneath it was Richie’s messy, blown out writing saying ‘Don’t tell me what to do!’.
By the time you had finished doing the small tasks you used to do in the front, the backdoor swung open with a loud, "Hello?"
You stood up and whipped your head to the doorway of the kitchen. Carmy's voice echoed out again. 
"Richie? Are you here?" 
You quickly ran around the counter and to the doorway, pausing awkwardly once in view of Carmy, "Uh, hey. It's actually me."
Carmy's eyes widened briefly, surprised to see you, "Oh… hi." 
You shifted your weight from one foot to another. 
His blue eyes looked at you up and down, "You uh, found the… the apron, huh?"
You looked down at your apron and nodded to yourself, "Yea yea I found it in my… in a locker." 
Carmy nodded and moved forward, moving to set his things to his own locker and prepare himself to work, "Richie was the one who, uhm, told me where your locker was and I found your apron in the office so… I cleaned it up for you."
His voice got smaller and smaller at the very end of his sentence, making your chest tighten at the mention of where your apron was found. 
You fiddled with your fingers, "Oh you did?"
Carmy hummed in affirmation, gesturing you to follow him as he moved around the kitchen. He led you to the fridge, showing you to some of the empty labeled bins. 
"Help me with restocking these?" 
Everyone else came in that morning, surprised to see you but trying their best to cover up their curious stares and questioning glances to one another. But you, once again, found yourself standing in the kitchen with a knife and cutting board, chopping the vegetables needed for the day. It wasn’t a menial task, prep was extremely important, but the lack of movement made you feel a bit useless. 
After all, you once helped run this damn place.
But you continued, not saying a word to keep the flow going. The key word was that you ‘once’ helped run the place and you didn’t anymore. 
When Richie came in, he yelled out upon seeing you, "Cousin!!"
You put your knife down turned around just in time for him to hobble towards you and wrap his arms around you. 
"Cousin, what are you doing here?" He said, excited. 
You chuckled softly, "I'm here to help but I'm taking it one step at a time." 
He smiled at your words, reminded of your conversation from yesterday. Then, he stepped back, put his hands on your forearms to get a good look at you, and, in a low voice, said, "Are you okay here?"
Your shoulders sagged as you sighed, "Yea yea, I'm fine… but are you?" 
Richie chuckled and nodded his head, “Ah some stupid little stab isn’t gonna kill me. You would need a boa constructor or something like that to do the job… or whatever the hell Eva mentioned she saw on her field trip to the zoo…”
He muttered the last part under his breath, making you smile and giggle to yourself, forgetting all your worries for a split second, before Sugar’s voice brought you back.
“Oh my gosh you’re here?!” 
At the tone of her voice, you jerked back and away from Richie’s grip. Your smile dropped before you quickly plastered it on again, nodding in her direction. But this action wasn’t kept unnoticed, like how you hoped; Richie’s own smile slowly fell into a frown, eyebrows creasing as he looked across your face, trying to read what was going on and why you stopped smiling when you saw Sugar. 
Sugar raced over, smiling but eyes looking concerned, as she wrapped her cardigan around her body, “Hi sweetie! How are you? It’s been a while and I was going to reach out to you.” 
Her normally comforting and kind demeanor made your eyes narrow. The way she spoke to you… it felt… not good. 
But you shook this feeling away, unsure why exactly you were feeling this way over Natalie, one of your previously closest friends. She cared about you, always checked in with you, and for pete’s sake she was your dead boyfriend’s sister! You were as thick as thieves at one point in life. 
“At one point in life…” you mumbled to yourself.
“What’s that?” Natalie asked, reaching out to gently place a hand on your forearm in concern. 
You jumped slightly, having been lost in thought for a second, “I’m fine, sorry, just lost in thought.”
You looked around the kitchen and felt yourself shrink as you realized that everyone there was stealing glances in your direction, eyes quickly turning away when you glanced at them.
“Can i just…” you began, feeling yourself grow more and more agitated.
Natalie nodded, trying to encourage you to say whatever it was that you wanted to say. Richie continued to scan you, head tilting to one side as he tried to piece together what was going on.
All of a sudden, the clanking of pans and the warmth of the flames being turned on started to get louder and hotter. It was like they were right up against your ear, despite being over 5 feet away. Your breath began to irregulate, some deep and heavy and others shallow and fast.
Noticing this, Natalie’s eyes widened, “Oh no, hey uhm, how about we go outside real quick?”
Richie quickly grabbed your shoulders and gently steered you forward and through the kitchen, to the backdoor. 
Carmy, who was in the front at the time of you three talking, came out when he saw you all rushing to the backdoor, “What’s going on?”
“She’s having a panic attack, we are going to get some air!” Natalie said, loud enough for it to echo across the kitchen and over to where Carmy was standing, in order for him to hear over the noise of the prepping.
This seemed to get you out of your stupor. 
You didn’t realize that you were frozen and being led out of the kitchen until in that moment when Natalie seemingly announced to everyone there that you were having a panic attack. In the restaurant that you used to help run. Like it was nothing.
You could feel eyes hitting your back. Although you couldn’t hear it, you just knew that there were whispers either happening or going to happen the second you walked out the door. 
And that made you lose it. 
Whispers that ‘oh, that’s his girlfriend’ and ‘she doesn’t seem to be taking his death well despite trying to move on with someone else’ and even ‘i heard she ran away from his funeral’. Whispers labeling you as so many awful things that you knew you weren’t, but they would never understand why you did it; why you left. No one would understand. No one right now understands.
That made you lose it.
You jerked your shoulders to shake off Richie and Sugar’s hands before pushing forward. You shoved the door, making it swing all the way open with a bang and stomped out. 
Natalie and Richie raced after you, alarmed at your sudden aggression. 
You crossed your arms, a grimace on your face, as you turned to look at them as they stood in front of you.
“What’s going on??” Natalie asked, voice quivering with worry. Her arms winded around her body, hands clammy.
“Cousin, what was that?” 
It made you sick the way Richie’s hardened eyes pleaded for you to tell him what was wrong. But it was Sugar’s careful tone that just made it worse. 
You grit your teeth, rolling your eyes which took Natalie aback.
“Are you… upset?” she said.
You scoffed and threw your arms down to your side, “Are you serious? Actually serious, Natalie?”
Natalie jerked back, making Richie shake his head and speak up, in a calm but agitated tone, “Cousin, what are you going on about-”
But before he could finish, you interrupted him and yelled, “Oh my gosh just… stop!!!”
Your voice echoed in the quiet morning street. The sky was light blue and the sun was still orange as it slowly made its way up the sky. The birds chirped in a harmonious tune that practically said ‘today is a lovely day!’ to those who made their way around town that morning for whatever they had on their to do list. 
But here you were, outside of The Beef again, and this time angry.
“I’m fine!! I don’t know how many times I have to tell you and remind you but I. Am. Fine!” 
The two reeled back for a second, hurt written all over their faces as you yelled at them. 
Richie then straightened up and crossed his arms, his own voice getting louder by the minute “What the hell is wrong with you? Natalie is just trying to help.”
“Oh yea, ‘help’! By treating me like a fragile piece of glass that will break at any second, you're ‘helping me’, right?” with your hands, you quoted each word for help, voice getting louder and louder to combat Richie’s own booming voice.  
“Sweetie, I didn't mean to treat you like that…” Natalie whispered, tears forming in her eyes. 
You groan and turn away, “You talk to me like I'm a child and I'm sick of it!”
“What’s going on?” Carmy said, interrupting you as he walked out the backdoor to join you three, “I can hear you yelling from inside.”
But you ignored him and continued, “Why are you avoiding talking about what happened as if saying the word or his name is going to make me explode? Why?!”
Carmy blinked, “What do you mean why?”
“Stop pretending like everything is fine and normal and that you have to watch me around knives and give me baby tasks to keep me busy as if being around The Beef is going to kill me!” you growled, tears of frustration starting to run down your cheeks. 
Stupid tears. Such traitors. 
Carmy sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Nobody is treating you like a child and I'm not giving you ‘baby tasks’, you know this.”
“Really Carmy? You're one to talk, seeing as you don’t even want to acknowledge or talk to me!” 
Carmy cleared his throat, voice low in an effort to control his own growing anger, “I’m not the one who is avoiding you or anything, okay? None of us are.”
Sugar covered her mouth and turned away from you, trying not to let the tears stream down her cheeks. Carmy turned, just in time to see her watery eyes. His jaw clenched as you seethed in front of him. 
“Listen, we all know you're grieving, okay? It fucking sucks that your boyfriend is dead but guess fucking what, my brother is dead and so is Sugar’s brother. Richie’s best friend is dead and everyone in here’s boss and friend is dead too. Your not the only one who is dealing with this so stop fucking acting like everyone here is out to get you for dealing with Mikey’s death!” Carmy blurted out, neck veins bulging as he leaned forward with every sentence. 
Sugar gasped and whipped around, “Carmy!”
“What? It’s fucking true! Everything has gone to shit, yea, but that doesn’t mean you're dealing with it alone! Mikey left a shit ton of people like you, me, and everyone else to pick up the pieces of his fuck ups, so stop acting like a baby and get to work, break is over.”
With that, Carmy turns around and goes back into The Beef, leaving you staring angrily at the ground with tears running down your cheeks and your fists clenched at your side. Richie softened at seeing you cry, but did nothing to prevent Carmy from going on his rant. 
Natalie sniffled quietly, wiping away at her tears as a few rolled down and hit the pavement underneath her. She then turned to you and smiled a watery smile, giving you one last glance of reassurance before turning to go back inside. 
As the door closed behind her, you broke into a sob, your once stiff body crumbling to the floor with a crouch. Your body shook, throwing all the adrenaline you had into each sob that wracked your body. 
With blurry vision, you didn’t see the way Richie sighed before he moved forward, arms wrapping around you with a clenched jaw. His own eyes were beginning to rim with tears as he held you, listening to your cries in agony get muffled into your hands and his chest.
Once your sobs turned into small cries and staggering breaths, Richie helped you get up and lean against the wall. He gently wiped your tears, fingers running the same path that he used to do when he found you upset after a particularly difficult argument with Mikey. 
Then, he left you there. 
He kissed your temple and turned to go back inside, leaving you alone outside with the chirping birds and the warm sun to contemplate what happened. 
“I really fucked up…” you whispered to yourself, sniffling.
And like the way you left from Mikey’s funeral and your exes out west when things got hard, you ran. You took your things silently and without saying a word to anyone about what you were doing and where you were going, you ran. 
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tomatoswup · 11 months
Text
"Can I get a-"
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summary: Hi! Welcome to McDonald's! How may I take your order?
warnings/tags: crack!fic, legit just a crack fic, or aCTUALLY A CRACK!DRABBLE☝️☝️ mcdonalds propaganda, big breakfast and hash brown advocation, poor vash trying to work on a normal day, knives fist fighting a customer waffle house style, reader just wants their breakfast ;(
A/N: ....do i have to explain why i wrote this.....i found the whole mcdonalds au one of the funniest things the fandom could've come up with...it wasn't just a need it was a NECESSITY :D
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"Order number 32!"
Ah yes, McDonalds at 7 in the morning, the beeps of the orders coming in, the beeping of the machines, and the bustling talking of the customers either sitting and eating or waiting for their orders.
McDonalds was a true staple of cryptic shopping for hunger.
But you could never get enough of their big breakfast and hashbrowns. And like a zombie, sometimes you found yourself in line some mornings before work.
But this morning seemed a bit...off.
"YOU'RE BURNING THE THE FUCKING HASHBROWNS WOLFWOOD!"
"NO I'M NOT!"
You couldn't help but watch a pancake fly in the air as you made your way to the counter. There, you were met with a kind faced worker, a cute one too! Peeking at his name plate that read "Vash", you gave him a soft smile, still feeling a bit tired.
"Hi! How can I help you?" He asked, returning the smile, the McDonalds hat on his head pushing down the tufts of blonde spikes of his, peeking under the hat.
But why was he wearing glasses? It was practically still dark outside...
"Hi, can I get a-"
"EXCUSE ME! WHY DID I NOT GET ANY LARGE FRIES!" Turning your attention to one of the customers right by you, both Vash and you jumped at the sudden slam of a receipt onto the counter to one of the other workers behind it.
A more pale, blonde man stood there, giving the rude customer one of the most stankiest faces you never thought some one could ever give.
If looks could kill, this man definitely could. He looked like he was about to jump over the counter and pounce on the man with the energy he was giving out.
Waffle House style.
"Err, sorry 'bout that.."Vash sweatdropped before looking back at you "What did you want to order?"
"Can I get uh-"
"JESUS FUCK MERYL DO YOU KNOW HOW TO FLIP A SAUSAGE?"
"WHY ARE YOU YELLING AT ME!? I'VE BEEN WORKING HERE FOR 2 YEARS! YOU'RE THE NEW ONE!"
You took a step back when suddenly, you saw a flash of yellow flying towards the both of you.
WAS THAT AN EGG??
Oh fuc- "FUCK!" You shouted as you ducked, wait did you say duck? Or did you say fuck?
Looking back up, you saw pieces of egg hanging off the back of Vash's head as you put a hand over your mouth.
Oh noo...
"I'm so sorry-"
You got back up on your feet and leaned over to brush off the egg pieces from the back of Vash's head.
"And I thought today was gonna be a normal morning..." Vash exhaustingly sighed.
Suddenly, you heard a scuffle behind you, chairs moving and things toppling over.
What was going on!
Turning around, you watched as Nai fist fought the customer, chairs flying everywhere as Nai tackled the man into a table.
"HEY HEY KNIVES IS FIGHTING!!" You heard someone scream from the back before the influx of McDonalds workers came running from behind the counter, jumping over or going through the door entrance to aid him.
"GET HIS ASS KNIVES!"
"GET HIM OFF!"
"Oh we're getting sued..."
You couldn't help but just watch on, mouth agape at what just happened in the matter of 1 hour, before looking back at Vash, who kept his place behind the register, covering his face with his hands in embarrassment.
"I'm so so sorry...Honestly, I can give you a free apple pie because of all this..." He apologized, shoulders drooping down.
"Oh um, it's okay, really." You couldn't help but chuckle "Rough morning huh?"
Maybe you should come back another day.
...At least the cashier was cute..
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Text
Dabi being obsessed with his sister HC
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Warnings: yandere personality, sibling x sibling, dubcon, just a reason to write out this scenario, dark content, very dark, mdni for your own safety, coercion, dabi being a lil tyrant, innocent goody hero!reader, yes sibling incest involved, again don’t read if you don’t like any of the tags, non canonical timeline obv, aged up!reader, dark content be ahead!, 18+ only, i really have no excuse for this 🤷🏽‍♀️
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From the hair, Dabi knew right off the bat that you were one of the many Todoroki children; his sibling
What he didn’t anticipate was how much power you would have over him the moment you met his ice blue gaze
A morbid obsession forms in that instant
His signature crazed grin emblazoned on his face that makes you squirm uncomfortably. You’d heard that this villain, Dabi, was once your eldest brother Touya. This patched up monster couldn’t possibly be Touya. Even if you didn’t remember him much, his pictures looked nothing like the creature that stood before you amidst blue flames.
“You’ve certainly grown into a lovely young lady.” He practically cooes out with that husky voice of his. To force more distance between both of you, you lash out with your flame whips to get him back. White hot flames bite at Dabi but instead of hissing in pain, Dabi’s grin stretches wider. Like he was proud of you and your quirk. Where was your back up? You were strong but there was no way you were winning a fight against this seasoned villain.
You’re about to call out for Shoto who you were always paired with as twins were endeared by the public. Before you could even push the first syllable out of your mouth, Dabi moves in a flash and has his hand covering your mouth as he tackles you to the ground.
“Look at those pretty mismatched eyes.” He’s chirping while he paws at your face, turning it this way and that. You’re shocked still at his actions. He could have easily killed you then and there. But he didn’t. When your brain starts to work again, you use your fiery hot quirk to dispel him away from you. Your quirk was affecting him physically but Dabi didn't mentally acknowledge the damage that was eating away at what skin remained on his arms. Charring it until the flames even started to eat away at the leather stapled patches that were covering the previously damaged parts of his skin.
There wasn't much you were afraid of except for your father. But Dabi not reacting to the pain terrified you. What human didn't feel pain?
"Aw what's wrong baby sister? Do I scare you? Yeah I know I don't have much of a pretty face anymore." His hand rubs against his chin, thinking back to what age you must have been when he'd "died". "Rest assured though, I'm your big brother." Like that would make everything better. He was still speaking so sweetly to you.
Why wasn't anyone else showing up? You didn't like the hungry stare that refused to leave you.
You swallow back fear that hammered in your throat "Villain, stay where you are. You have the right to remain silent, but any villainy you commit can and will be used against you in the court of justice."
Dabi really laughs at that. "Oh you're cute." He holds out his wrists in surrender. "You gonna handcuff me Ms. Hero? I'm sure you'll become Japan's Number One Hero if you bring me in." Mockery drips off every word. He wasn't taking you seriously.
Finally you feel the stinging cold of Shoto's ice strike past you and toward Dabi. It was clear that he rushed all the way there. Behind him are the rest of the heroes assigned to the district.
With ease, Dabi dodges the icy spikes of Shoto's fury. He cocks his head your way. No matter what his eyes never strayed from you. "What do 'ya say, Ms. Hero? When you're ready, come find me."
He was gone, swift in his retreat.
His whole reason for being changed that day. The Paranormal Liberation Front had never really been his passion anyway. It was just his means of getting revenge against Endeavor. But he realized he could have his cake and eat it too.
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