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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 4 months

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New Year Blues | Yandere Shoto Todoroki

The glow of the extended break was beginning to fade. The city's typical hustle and bustle has returned with an air of dread. The employees of various companies begrudgingly returned to their grave-like posts. The only one unaffected seemed to be a little girl on a cashmere carpet happily engaging in a reenactment of a successfully violent coup 'de tat. Her hair was in an intricate set of braids beautifully highlighting the few and far between pearly white strands. A slither of color from her father's hair. It was one of the only telling signs that they were related at all. That and the shape of her nose. Otherwise she'd been told she was like her other parent.

That brought a kind of comfort to Shoto. A comfort only a divorced Father could understand. The ache he fostered when met with those familiar eyes. Or the mannerisms he could spot a mile away.

Any other divorcee would have to be fighting their own mixed emotions of disdain, regret, and pain but not Shoto. No, because Shoto was different than most if not everyone. Shoto wouldn't give up.

"Papa, will you play with me?"

"Sorry, Snowbell, I'm waiting for someone special."

The girl sighed as she collected her scattered toys," If it's who I think it is, I should start packing up."

"You do not have to, I have all the time to wait."

"Maybe you do but they don't."

That caught his attention, "They don't?"

From his position on his armchair he brought a tentative fist to his mouth; concealing a hidden expression as his daughter explained.

"Yeah, the guys we've been hanging out with sometimes. The ones with the long black hair and the redhead with the creepy smile."

His daughter's nonchalant response fed wood to the flame Shoto had started. Like burning ethanol it was silent and unseen; quickly preparing to singe the remains of his distastes. He took a drag out of a sleek container, barely inhaling the crystallized dust from within. He hides a clearing sniff with a cough into his hand. Placing the container back in his suit pocket, he coughed into the fist of his hand as he smoothed over the small lump in his suit's chest pocket. The potential energy coursing through his veins made for an easy comfort. The crystalline chemical bubbling within his blood made enduring the pain that much easier with the thoughts of his latest power.

Shoto Todoroki was no average divorced Father, he was also one of the selected owners of the latest leap in human technology. With a simple sniff, the latest creation allowed those with quirks to strengthen their abilities while adding more. It wasn't approved and will never be by most governments but that just meant more freedom for those in the market for them.

And all the time in the world to do as he pleased.

"Papa you have to use the girl voice!"

He chuckled, "But I don't have one."

She pouted. "Yes, you do!

They went back and forth, successfully distracting them both from the impending arrival they both had been celebrating. Only remembering the ring of the grand bell on the home's double door's ringing throughout the home.

"Still in your PJs....don't tell me your father conveniently let you play with your gifts again…at the exact time I’ve come to pick you up?"

"But he played with me this time."

A pensive glare was shot past the little girl's head at the man gathering dolls on the floor. Rolling of eyes returned to their soft and endearing gaze on the little girl.

Scooped into loving arms and endless kisses Yuki could only return in half. She barely registered the ghost of a smile on her Father's face as he put back her dolls all wrong. She'd have to spend ten extra minutes reorganizing them. How unfortunate.

"Hope you had a Merry Christmas, (Y/n)."

Scoffing it didn't take long for Yuki's other parent to cross the threshold, to help the little girl pack. Shoto hovered nearby, picking at the nerves he once was married to in his own childish game of keep-away.

"Happy Hannukah to you too, slug."

It was endearing in its special way. The opposite greetings and the derogatory nickname. In a moment of peace, Shoto was told it was because some slugs were a myriad of patterns and colors like his hair. He was also told that they could be poisonous. What he remembers most though-is that (Y/n) hates slugs.

"My chef fixed more than enough food for me. You know how often I'm out, would you mind taking some of it off my hands?"

An innocent question. Was met with a sneer and a judgmental look down and up his person.

As if they didn't already know him from top to bottom.

"We'll be fine. We have plenty of snacks at home."

After a lengthy trip up the marble stairs, once again the divorced couple were folding their daughter's clothes side by side. Shoto stole a glance or two at the face of his former partner. Biting back the urge to compliment such an enticing side profile, he took a more tactical approach.

"I heard you've been entertaining some...new company."

"If this is your way of getting me to talk to you I suggest you pick something else."

"I'm serious," he took the folded pants out of their clutches placing them in the small suitcase below. "tell me."

A spiteful glare and his silent urging lowered a wall closed to him more often now. Watching with joy and resentment as a genuine smile appeared.

"I've been making some new and interesting friends lately."

"Friends?"

"Yes. Back in the day you know I wasn't allowed many other than yours."

The jab hurt him more than he expected. Reminded of all the arguments centered around this exact topic. He hid it well behind his apathetic gaze hiding the flutter in his movements.

"But now that I'm able to make them I...actually have more fun during the off-days."

"That's good."

He refuses to let it show how much it irks him that the beauty of that beloved smile wasn't caused by him. He thought it better to change the subject but Yuki had decided to join with her own two-sense.

"It's real good. Especially since they show me new tricks all the time."

"New Tricks?"

"Yeah," she added her improperly folded socks into the bag. ", Lumi is always teaching me cool things and giving me gifts."

"Yuki..."

The warning was clear in their tone but Shoto pressed.

"What kind of gifts?"

"The kind that cut people real good!"

"Yuki, what'd I say about describing cooking utensils that way?"

"Not to say it like that but Nark says it was cute."

Shoto held back a groan, "Nark?"

Before anyone else could speak Yuki had abandoned the task of folding to jump over the suitcase and onto the bed. Successfully stomping all over the unfolded clothes, clumsily trudging towards her Father with a smile on her face.

"Mister Shalnark is a master at video games!"

The way her face lit up made Shoto grit his teeth as he listened to her rattling off all the achievements this other man had.

"He has the coolest setup! He's got a 5K 18-inch rounded screen! With a light-up keyboard that matches the beat of whatever song you want to play!"

"Oh really?"

"Yeah and he's always lets me play during the movie nights and-"

"Yuki!"

The scolding had Yuki bashfully looking down. Shoto was curious if he'd have been able to hear any more than that. As instructed Yuki was told to get down from the bed and help pack the rest of her suitcase.

Sooner than he would have liked Yuki was safely strapped in her car seat dozing into a nap while Shoto barely assisted with the remaining luggage.

"Now we're leaving," (Y/n) heaved a large Teddy bear in the back of their trunk, "finally."

With a final huff, they returned to the driver's side of the door, where Shoto was waiting. He had a small gift bag in his hand and a polite smile on his face.

"While I'm sure you're busy to get back to your-" He rolled his eyes at the name. "-friends. I have a gift for you."

(Y/n) gave a blank stare that had Shoto hurriedly handing the gift bag over.

"Think of it as a Happy New Year’s gift."

"Wow, it’s....keys for a new snowmobile. Yay."

"Keep looking. There's more."

More unraveling of gift wrapping tissue revealed a slip of paper holding more weight than an average civilian's salary without being more than a feather.

"An all-expenses-paid trip to the 'Elite Lodging within the Wintergreen Domesphere’....that's a great gift–"

That brought a smile to Shoto's face which immediately dropped the second he got the look. The look he's gotten far too often since his separation.

"For your partner but I'm not...not anymore."

(Y/n) dropped the key and the ticket back into the bag. With a pitying smile, they pushed the bag back into his chest waiting for him to gingerly cradle it in his hands. Refusing to watch him sulk (Y/n) turned back to their car opened the door and got their seat belt on. With their hands on the steering wheel, they sent a worried glance at him through the window.

His head was hanging low, his two-toned fringe bangs covering his eyes and the pained expression that was on his face. What (Y/n) could see was how Shoto’s ungloved hands held the gift bag.

Holding wasn't the right word. More like squeezing. Fearing the violent warning of small clear ice gleaming against the bag (Y/n) turned off the property promptly.

Hoping what they saw was a figment of their imagination.

_______

Not all employees dreaded their return to the workplace. Some are basking in the afterglow of the holiday season. Fulfilled with the love of their family and friends and constantly reminded of their latest gifts it may be hard for some to put anything less than a smile on their face.

“Hiya Boss!” Said an excited minion, with black hair, and brown almond eyes. Waving in tandem with their glowing smile it felt natural during this time.

FWOOSH.

For what felt natural at a moment of happiness was a crime in the eyes of an angered Todoroki Shoto. Even the few screams and sounds of rushing steps in the direction of the blazing employee weren’t enough to rouse the raging villain.

On a warpath, he did the gentleman’s stomp – a directed speed walk–forcing his employees to guess his foul mood from the distant fire he was leaving behind.

The slam of the door alerted his other partners of the raging villain, varying many different reactions.

“So my guess is they turned you down?”

One such reaction was from his brother, who covered a dry laugh as he rubbed a hand against his beard. His feet were on the long, oval-shaped table taking the place in front of him; whereas others had files of paperwork instead. Blistered hands were behind his head sporting another shade of dye than last month. If Todoroki was in a better mood he’d have insulted him on it but he feared what crossed his mind was plenty more violent.

“Do you need to be here? This is an important meeting.”

His brother sighed, “Yeah, who else is going to stop you from burning up your branch leaders?”

Todoroki let his piercing glare shift to the attending employees, who refused to look anywhere but him suddenly finding the the wooden taint of the table incredibly interesting. The smirk from his brother made him groan, adjusting his tie before speaking.

“All of you. Dismissed until next Week. Same time.”

As soon as he finished speaking the branch leaders hurriedly shot from their seats and ran to the exit of the conference room. Leaving nothing but an abandoned plate of bagels and a few pens Todoroki was alone once again.

“Hey, are you going to sit here and sulk all day? That was all you had to do today, right?”

Alone with his brother.

“It was.”

“Then you should go! Do something that will get the edge off.”

Todoroki made an exasperated face, making his brother sigh again. Bouncing from his seat the now-green-haired brother took Todoroki under his arm shaking him as he poked his finger into his chest.

“Like maybe cutting down those new ‘friends’ that have been bothering you!”

Todoroki removed the arm from around his shoulder, walking across the room towards the exit. Smoothly dodging the hand that reached for the back of his jacket.

“I can’t it’s too obvious. They told me they wouldn’t speak to me again if I did that too.”

“Hmm.” His brother held his chin, stroking his beard as he thought. Todoroki shook his head, reaching for the door stopping when his brother snapped his fingers.

“Hey! Why don’t you take it out on those ‘extras’ that have been watching them lately?”

Todoroki hesitated. “But I was planning on saving that for when it escalated…”

His brother waved his hand and blew an indignant puff of air past his lips.

“Please, they would just be suspicious that way too. Do yourself a favor and treat yourself! The New Year can’t start with you being so glum!”

Todoroki returned his gaze to the door handle he’d been holding for a while. He released his grip, revealing the misshapen handle that matched the shape of his fist. It brought a smile to his face.

“Thank you, Natsuo. I think I’ll do that.”

“No problem little brother have a good New Year.”

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere new year #yandere shoto x reader #yandere shoto todoroki #yandere x gn reader #yandere x genderneutral reader #yandere bnha x reader #yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere my hero academia #yandere todoroki x reader #yandere ex x reader #yandere divorced husband

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barbiesdelicioustoes · 9 months

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Ayato x Fem!Reader

Summary: Who knew that someone would fall in love with you doing your hobbies.. which was capturing frogs on a daily basis as a teen.

A/N: damn, I blame my sleep deprived state for this.

As the daughter of a prominent noble, participating in impolite behaviours such as sneaking out to capture frogs wouldn't be much trouble as long as you don't get caught, right?

Well, to be fair, you are only twelve after all. It is to be expected that a teen like you would go out and have fun instead of being dolled around.

You hastily jump into the bushes the second you see a frog leap into the pile, jar in hand to cage the animal. In the bushes hid a nest full of baby birds, a hatchling, barely out of the egg.

Silently and slowly, your bare hands reach to grab the drenched frog to give the babies a sweet time, away from disturbance.

A stick harshly pokes at your sides, and you silently cursed at the sting. The rays of sunlight peeking through the gaps of trees greet you once you get out, only then did you realize that the storm earlier had died down and it was time for you to go back as your maids might suspect your absence.

"I hope there's no guards outside." You mutter as you slip the damp frog into the jar, snickering when the frog attempts to escape. Your gaze turns to your dirtied dress, and suddenly it hits you.

'Crap! How am I supposed to change!?'

Your mind whirls into a jumble mess of plans on how to escape this situation you've gotten yourself again, not aware of another presence approaching you.

You were snapped out of your daze when you hear a branch crack behind you. Mentally preparing yourself to meet an annoyed guard, you abruptly whip your head towards the sound, also certain that you may have broken your neck with how fast you turned.

However, instead of being met with a figure you're so familiar with, a child that seemed to be younger looked at you with imperceptibly widened lavender eyes. And now you wondered just how far have you gone?

The child opens his mouth, but closes it again. Assuming he was a child of a higher noble, you turn your body towards him, hiding the jar behind you. "Hello there, do you need anything?" With the friendliest smile you could muster.

"What is a commoner like you doing here?"

The unexpected boldness of his words stumbles you, wavering your smile. Before you can reason yourself, the child points his finger at your clothing, directly at the spot where a huge splotch of mudwater stained your white dress.

Heat rushed to your cheeks, suddenly conscious of your appearance. An idea pops into your mind and you swallowed your shame, smiling impishly.

"Do you wanna see something?" You ask the child, your fingers fiddling around the jar. His silence gave you the moment to take in his appearance. Pale blue hair tied into a low ponytail, along with a formal attire. Also his eyes, you were sure you've seen it somewhere.

Instead of any signs of approval nor rejection, he calmly asks,

"What are you doing in the Kamisato Estate?"

His tone pointedly directed to the item behind you, presumably suspecting that you might have stolen from them. Little did they know, you only stole a frog. But you shrugged his hilarious accusation and panicked at your current location.

'How the heck did I get to the Kamisato Territory!? I was just in the forest..!'

"Tell me how you got here before I call the guards." How nice. Images of your mother's horror about your sudden appearance on the Kamisato Estate courses through your mind.

"Okay, okay. I was just in the forest and then I unknowingly got here."

"How can I know you're not lying?"

Somehow, you feel like you're being interrogated by an adult. As to prove your innocence, you display the jar in your palm infront of him, and he gazes at it with pure bewilderment. The frog gazes back and you had to stifle your laughter at the sight.

He breaks the gaze, conscious of how hilarious he looks, and locks eyes with you. You blink, he blinks, you blink again.

"...Told you." You bring your hand back to your side as you chuckle at him. His response throws you back to your current problem yet again, "You can leave."

Your eyes widen and you scramble to get to the forest, not even paying the child any glance for the last time you might see him.

Karma greets you once you get home. Your beloved parents snatched all of your frogs as punishment for your absence, lecturing you how you shouldn't go out like that especially when the weather was gloomy.

But when you get to your bed, you silently wished the kid you had met earlier, a cold pillow.

"Mom, I already told you, I'm not interested in anyone!"

"Sweetheart, you're not going to get married, calm down."

She sighs for possibly the 20th time today at her daughter's persistence at refusing to go meet a playmate. Your 18th birthday was nearly coming, therefore there was absolutely no reason to even get a playmate.

It was clear that your mother wanted you to atleast be interested in a guy or some sort, but you refused. Trivialities like that had not even crossed your mind until your mother began to set you up men your age.

Although your mother was fully aware of how capable you are at handling your responsibilities as the next heir, she still insisted in selling marrying you off to men.

You, an independent woman, marrying someone solely for society's favor? Ridiculous, you can fully do that alone. Your parents were aware of it, your father had left you alone but your mother? Oh no, she wouldn't.

It's been 3 years since she's pestered you to go on with someone.

"Sweetie, just this once. Please?"

"Mom what if I'm gay?"

She sighs yet again, mentally facepalming herself at your inconsiderate excuses. Her lips opens to shrug your refusal but you cut her off.

You utter a single word. A single word, unaware that it will change your life, for the better or worst.

"Fine."

A pair of guards greets you at your carriage, wishing you good luck. You shoot them a grateful smile before entering the carriage.

Presently, your mother did not tell you what location you will end up meeting your.. playmate, as what she would call it. The curtain on the window flaps open, revealing a bunch of sakura trees.

After a while, the door to your carriage opens, a chilly breeze immediately hitting you once you step foot on the ground. Your curious gaze steers at the building infront of you, a proud symbol of their clan displayed on top of the building.

It only took you a few seconds to recognize the symbol.

'What the heck, don't tell me mom set me up with one of the Kamisato?'

Their parents were great friends with your own, and often met up with each other. Only the unfortunate passing of the Kamisato's head and his wife broke off any connections your family had with them, as you weren't acquainted with any of their children.

A call of your name breaks your train of thoughts as your gaze follows the source of sound, greeted by a lively figure which was your mom, of course.

"Now, now, come on. I'll introduce you."

Frankly, you hadn't expected that most of their servants would be the ones you were greatly acquaintances with, outside of your social status as a noble.

They all greeted you with warm smiles, offering you tea and pastries as you wait for your "playmate", chattering about stories of their Head and his beautiful sister. You relished in your mother's shock when she saw how well you got along with their servants.

Soon enough, an hour had passed. As you chat away the time, a girl with a poise posture enters the room, catching everyone's attention. The servants calmly stands and bow, along with your mother. Their sudden movement makes you feel pressured enough to join them.

A few greetings were exchanged and you learned that this was your "playmate's" sister, that goes by the name of Ayaka. An elegant aura and a big heart was all you can describe her. Ever so kind and thoughtful, your mother says.

"Please excuse my late brother." You reassure her that it was fine, lying that you can wait when you already want to go home and get lost in books. Perhaps you can capture frogs aswell. She excuses the two of you to discuss a few matters about your current situation.

As you two walk towards the back of their estate, she excitedly chats all her tales with her brother, as you listen to all of her stories. The droplets of water catches your attention, there did you realize that this was their backyard.

A sense of deja vu crawls in your veins. A pile of memories settling in the corner of your mind as you squint your eyes in concentration. Ayaka glances at you before following your gaze.

"Are you alright?" She asks, smiling gently. "Ah, yes. I was simply in awe." You can see the way her eyes brightened with stars. "May I ask if your brother will–"

You were cut off by a tone similar to that of a fox.

"I have arrived." Your companion abruptly stands up, offering you a hand and strides towards the voice. Dusting off dirt in your clothes, you crane your head to glance at what was so interesting.

Lavender eyes lock onto yours, and all you could think of was how familiar this all felt. As if you had met those gaze before. He cocks an eyebrow as you blink at him, words at the tip of your tounge.

When Ayaka speaks, a flood of memories fills your brain. "[Name], this is my brother, Ayato."

'He was the kid I met 6 years ago..!' You bowed deeply at him, leaving your view at the wooden floor as you silently panicked. 'And he's the goddamn Kamisato Head. What did you do, mom!?'

"...And brother, this is [Name]." She finishes, as you muster the unwavering, friendly smile you gave him six years ago. His lips curl into a smirk.

"Ayaka, would you like to give us some alone time to chat?"

'No, please.' You pleaded in the comfort of your mind, smile still unwavering.

A pink blush adorns her face as she agrees and hurriedly rush to the door. Ayato turns to you with a sly smile, indicating that he's gonna do something you will definitely hate.

He breaks the silence, "I apologize for my late appearance." his words doesn't sound sincere at all. Still, you reluctantly hid your discomfort andf respond, "It is understandable, don't worry."

"...Are you still capturing frogs?" The question took you aback, not expecting he'd remember you too. Your breath hitches as you stare at him, pondering on how to perfectly escape your situation. "Yes. Is there perhaps a problem with it?"

"I didn't expect you to be a noble." He bluntly says, evading your not-so question. "I expected you to atleast consider your words before speaking." You counter, with a tone as sweet as sugar.

The silence stretches when the two of you merely stood to admire the serene scenery, not paying attention to his constant glances. His mouth opens,

"Would you agree if I asked you to marry me?"

Your eyes widen ever so slightly, and your mouth ajar at what he said, more surprised at his audacity. You could only hope your face is unreadable when you ask, "why?"

He narrows his eyes and explains, "Your mother pesters you to date, no? And I also have.. a few people who pesters me to date. We both have similar problems, so why not solve them together?" His feet takes a step infront of you.

You place your hand in your chin.

'If I accept his offer, mom wouldn't pester me any longer. And besides, this is Kamisato Ayato, anyways.' You smugly smile to yourself.

That night, your mother was shocked to learn that you and Ayato agreed to date. You couldn't blame her, you refused to cross the line of falling in love after all. Yet here you were, smiling way too proudly to be married off to a man who has high social status.

Also that night, she wanted to discuss about what had happened. Bombarding you with questions on how he had captured your heart like you capture frogs. A relieved sligh slips from her when you reassure her numerous times.

"He didn't tell you?" Your mother suddenly asks.

"Tell me what?"

"He's the one who's been insisting on wanting to go on a date with you for three years," Your mother snickers at the picture of the Kamisato Head pleading her to let her daughter meet him, "After hearing that you capture frogs, which is a bit ridiculous by the way. But I thought he told you." She raises her brow at you, her eyes willing you an answer.

And yet, nothing came out of your mouth. The few signs that you were still alive was that you were breathing and blinking at her dumbfoundedly.

'But you could come up with one conclusion.'

'Ayato likes you because of frogs.'

"Milord, here are the reports." Thoma hands him a few paper. "Mhm, I've found her already." His servant blinks, and blinks again. Furrowing his eyebrows, he curiously asks, "So, she really was a noble, huh?" All he gets is a hum.

Thoma chuckles at his stupidly inlove lord, reminiscing the time where he had multiple guards look for you in the forest, and his parents throwing questions at him.

All those questions and all he says is, "I think I'm interested in someone."

The door opens with a click, and it reveals an excited Ayaka. "Brother! How are you?" She offers Thoma a quick wave of her hand before walking towards Ayato.

"I've been doing fairly well–"

"I told you, [Last name] is the girl! I was wondering why she kept squinting at the backyard." She giggles, "Though I gotta say, your patience is admirable, you waited for her for three years."

"I would love it if someone does that to me too.." it comes out as quietly as possible, but the two hears it. Ayato sends Thoma a knowing look to which Thoma glares at him to shut up.

Ayato sets his pen down and smiles softly at Ayaka, "Sister, you needn't worry about that, someone already has his eyes on you." The teasing lilt in his tone pointedly refers to Thoma stiffening beside him. His dear sister ever so oblivious lets out an 'oh' and blushes profusely.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #genshin fanfic #genshin #genshin impact #genshin imagines #kamisato ayato #ayato x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #kamisato ayato fluff #ayato fluff #why am i doing this again #i wanna sleep #genshin x reader

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wildelydawn · 1 year

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Him

If anyone asks, Kim denies the unsubstantiated claim that he is, indeed, like a cat.

Chay claims the evidence is stacked against him. But cat ears and the weird selfies that Chay makes him pose for (hands up, nose scrunched) hardly hold up. Not to mention Chay’s bias.

Kim scowls while looking out the window.

The comparison started with Chay, of course.

“Awww,” Chay cooed, at a family gathering, when Kim perched himself onto one of the garden chairs. Kim ignored him, turning away from the lunch that was served and opting to, instead, watch Tankhun and Arm race remote controlled trucks. Kim’s eyes carefully followed the twisting racetrack. “So cute.”

“Not cute,” Tankhun complained. “Getting his dirty shoes on the cushions. Ridiculous. Who sits like that?!”

“He’s like a cat.”

Kim snapped his head up. “What?”

“You’re like a little cat!”

“No, I’m not-”

“Yes! Exactly!” Tankhun screeched his approval. “Nosy, sneaky, arrogant little kitty! I see it!”

And though Kim has begged, the nickname stuck. And Chay has no intention of stopping.

Kim doesn’t see it. So what if he likes to crouch on chairs? Or that his schedule consists of 10-14 hours of sleep? Being a popstar and mafia princeling is backbreaking work.

Kim also doesn’t see any sign of Chay’s car pulling up.

Kim squints through the blinds. Where is Chay? He was supposed to be home twenty minutes ago.

He paces, staring at the front door before parking himself back on the couch and flipping through TV channels. He lands on the Discovery Channel; Kim then sits still for a grand total of two minutes before he leaps up and decides to mess around with a guitar. He plucks one from its stand, sits back on the couch, and begins to play a familiar tune.

But it only occupies his mind for a moment.

Kim sighs in defeat, putting the guitar down and flopping belly side down on the couch, his arm dangling off the side. The TV blares something about local birds.

Maybe Chay just forgot about their plans. Or about him.

Kim tries not to become a twisted jealous mess when Chay hangs out with the others. He’s just a little clingy, especially after they made up.

And Kim’s not dramatic. But if Chay doesn’t come home right this moment, he’s going to start throwing-

The door knob begins to turn.

Kim sits up at the edge of the sofa. He pretends to be very interested in his nails when Chay walks through the front door.

“I’m home,” Chay calls out.

Kim stays on the couch, ignoring him.

“Kim?” Chay enters the living room. “There you are.”

Kim huffs, but goes back to watching whatever’s on TV.

“Aw, are you mad at me?”

Kim stays silent, but gives Chay a healthy dose of side eye.

“I think someone missed me,” Chay muses. He sets down his bag and reaches for Kim’s head. Kim closes his eyes as soon as Chay starts scratching, but he refuses to give in that easily.

“Come on, Kim,” Chay whispers. “There was traffic.”

No answer. But Kim does lean in slightly to Chay’s hand. Damn, that feels good.

“Whatever,” Kim retorts. The irritation he held against his boyfriend melts away with each pet, much to his dismay.

“Put your head in my lap,” Chay murmurs. “Let me comb your hair.”

Score!

Kim keeps his displeasure plastered on his face, but curls up on the couch so that his head is comfortably in Chay’s lap.

“Such a good kitty. My cute little kitty.”

Kim hums. He doesn’t see it.

#Ask #answered #KimChay #Shou #KinnPorsche #lmao my bad #I threw up words again #Here take all of my words shou #Shou-jpeg #Myfics #my fics #kim theerapanyakul #Dawn's ficlets

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virtualcarrot · 2 months

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[KKIR] Modern AU - Teaching Pains Pt3

Part 2

Prompt 3: Crushes

Not one to forget his manners, Iruka takes the time to thank Izumo for his update on the latest developments before stomping up the hallway with a resounding scream.

"Kakashi-sensei !”

The door damper at the teachers’ lounge is a familiar enemy to him. He still gives it the good old college try, but as usual there’s only frustration to be found instead of any actual thudding.

Still, his entrance is impactful enough that Suzume takes one look at him, adjusts her glasses, and makes herself scarce.

At the desk he’s claimed for himself, behind a small succulent and a figurine of a brown pug with a vest and headband, Kakashi perks up.

“Iruka-sensei!” he all but chirps in greeting.

“Do not ‘Iruka-sensei’ me, you know what you did. Setting fire to your classroom!” He hears his throat strangle the words in horror even as he says them. “What were you thinking?!”

“That it was an excellent teaching opportunity.’’

“A fire?!”

“In my defense, it was a controlled one.’’

“You had to put it out with a fire extinguisher!”

“Yes? that's what those are for, Iruka-sensei, it's right there in the name.”

For a brief moment, Iruka contemplates committing unspeakable acts of violence.

In the end, he pulls a chair to sag into. The backrest is low, and he sinks down with his legs spread until it meets the back of his neck. With his head thrown back, the sight of the ceiling proves to be a blessedly neutral balm to his frayed nerves.

A bit bright, though.

He throws an arm across his eyes with a groan. “Please tell me you at least cleared it with Hiruzen-sensei.”

A huff of laughter makes him fear the worst.

“I did,” Kakashi says, with the sort of casual mirth which drives Iruka to understand that Hiruzen, distracted by the study of one or another item of his personal collection of ancient books and shodō scrolls, gave some form of blanket approval.

He heaves a long sigh at the thought, slowly unwinding from his outburst. Kakashi lets him be, humming to himself as he jots down something likely unrelated to the grading he’s supposed to be doing, perhaps the answer to a crossword or the solution to one of the outlandish logic puzzles he’s fond of tearing out of magazines. Some fights aren’t worth the bother, Iruka has learned over the months since they started working together. He can let the man have some hobbies. So long as Kakashi’s writing then he’s not busy reading tawdry erotica out in the open.

Iruka lifts his arm tiredly to shoot an accusing look.

“You're going to give me so many gray hairs,” he complains.

Going by the creases of his visible eye, the idea seems to amuse Kakashi greatly. “Can’t say I see what's so wrong about that.”

And, saying that, he tilts his head in a way that makes his own hair flutter.

The sight is almost entrancing, gravity defying spikes catching the light in thin threads of silver. Of course Kakashi doesn't mind having gray hair. It suits him, in a roguish way, gives him an air of distinction that is far too appealing.

Shit.

Iruka’s been getting far too comfortable.

He pulls himself into a more conventional sitting form. Kakashi seems to take that as a sign he’s open to communicate with.

“Admit it,” he taunts, crow’s feet tight at the corner of his eye, “you wish you’d seen it.”

Iruka gives him a flat look to make up for the smile he can't hold back in response and he takes possession of the #1 Dog pencil-holder mug on the desk in retaliation. “I still might. By tonight, someone will have uploaded it, if it hasn’t already been, boasting about having the coolest teacher ever.”

Kakashi’s eye loses all playfulness. “Jealous?” he asks, but it doesn’t sound like a dig at Iruka. If anything, in the sudden weight of his gaze, Iruka could almost see a form of concern.

“No,” Iruka lies, watching the pencils tilt as he turns the mug in his hands. “You’ve been doing good work with the kids, you know,” he adds, because that at least is true. “Naruto’s improved by leaps and bounds thanks to you. I’m glad you’re here.”

When he looks up, Kakashi’s smiling at him again. His expression looks softer, almost fond.

“They do look up to you,” Kakashi says, reaching to pick the mug and replacing it with another, which has been steaming by his elbow. “It’s just easier to work with them in small groups. I leave the wrangling of full classrooms of teens to the professionals. Couldn’t pay me to do it.”

Iruka brings the mug to his lips, only to pull a face and away. It’s the blasted brew of their terrible coffee maker. “I don’t know how you drink this stuff without any sugar, honestly.”

“It builds strength of character,” Kakashi quips instantly, tugging down his mask as he retrieves his drink. “Which you’ve got more than enough of already,” he adds as if to reassure Iruka, barely hiding a smirk as he drinks.

Iruka can’t help the upturn of his own lips at the words.

“I wouldn’t say you’re lacking,” he says with a huff.

“Clearly you'd be wrong. Haven’t been granted my school trip yet.”

It’s a tired argument but Iruka can’t help the need to make his case yet again. It’s unclear that all parents could pay for it, for starters, and that's not taking into account the students without. While Sasuke’s grades have earned him an additional scholarship, Naruto would be absolutely devastated to be left behind.

“You know we don’t--”

“--have the funds, the school’s open to orphans, the state doesn’t cover that, yes, yes, I know,” Kakashi finishes. There’s mild frustration in his voice but he doesn’t sound argumentative. More like he gets Iruka’s point, for all that he’s not fond of what makes it true.

For that, Iruka can’t help but give him a grateful smile.

“We’re waiting for a grant. Maybe next semester,” he says.

If he’s honest, he’d quite like to go on that school trip to the observatory himself. Kakashi has pretty much sold him on its merits and, well, he’d be a very foolish man indeed to miss the opportunity of listening to a lecture by professor Hatake himself.

He shakes the thought clear from his head, and meets Kakashi’s eye.

“Did you at least re-enable the fire alarm?” he asks and watches Kakashi go very, very still.

“I wouldn't forget something like that,” Kakashi retorts, but already Iruka can see the seed of doubt taking root.

As someone known to triple check the lock on his bike, he sympathizes.

Kakashi pushes up, readjusting his mask. “And on an entirely unrelated note, I must leave you.”

“Do wipe the whiteboard clean while you’re at it,” Iruka says mercilessly, chuckling at the half-hearted wave Kakashi sends over his shoulder.

Then he’s alone.

On the desk, the coffee mug has stopped steaming. Soon, it’ll reach a wasteful point of lukewarm. And while it’s shit coffee, it’s also free energy.

Iruka pulls a few packets of sugar from the unused stash accumulating in Kakashi’s drawer, dumps them into the mug, and resigns himself to his fate.

Part 4

@kakairu-rocks

#kakairu valentine's week 2024 #kakairu.rocks #kakairu #kkir #hatake kakashi #umino iruka #my scrawl #naruto #fic : naruto

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highfantasy-soul · 1 month

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NATLA Episode 6 - Masks (5/5)

[Masterlist of my NATLA thoughts]

An explanation of what I'm doing here and my history with ATLA.

Of course, full spoilers ahead.

After Zuko's painful flashback, we get the animated series' convo between Aang and Zuko from the Blue Spirit episode - I like closing with this bit as it has built naturally from the conversation earlier. Instead of Aang just randomly telling Zuko he thinks they could have been friends out of the blue, he's built a connection with Zuko - they've humanized themselves to each other, so the comment about friendship actually makes sense.

I think the live-action did a really good job taking great concepts from the animated series and fleshing them out to make them more organic rather than a blunt 'here's the lesson, kids' thesis statement that comes out of the blue and you just need to take on faith because it's a kid's show and you just accept the leap of logic for the sake of the story (Katara claiming she's Aang's 'family' in episode 3 of the animated series vs her telling him that at the end of the live-action season after they've, you know, actually built a familial foundation with each other).

And just like the animated series, Zuko can't take the compassion, the kindness, the nudging toward a softer future, and just blasts with his firebending, pushing Aang away. He knows it won't really hurt Aang, it's not actually a strike to incapacitate, it's a blow to ward off any sign of weakness or 'humanity'.

The follow-up flashback with Ozai talking to Zuko as he's 'recovering' was such a good addition. Ozai GENUINELY believes he's doing a good thing for his son. He GENUINELY thinks he's helping. Again, I love the complexity they're giving Ozai and Zuko's relationship where there actually IS a chance that Zuko could get in his father's good graces - honestly, that makes his turn to join Team Avatar that much more impactful. It's not a 'well I was never going to get the approval from my father anyways' decision, it truly was a 'I could have had it all, but it wasn't right'.

To me, that's what made the OG redemption arc so good: Zuko DID choose to 'get everything he ever wanted' and turned away after he was secure in that - but there was still that little lingering knowledge that Ozai really never would actually accept him - it was all a ploy. The live-action strengthened that thread with making it so that Ozai really could accept him - it's a real thing Zuko would be giving up rather than a shallow imitation of 'acceptance' the animation gave Ozai and Zuko.

Ozai insisting that Zuko needs to be able to give up the weak in order to preserve the strong is such an interesting beat to keep hammering home with Ozai and his world view. He's obsessed with his own version of 'strength' and I honestly think there's a lot of trauma for him around that idea. When Zuko argues that the weak can become strong, I think that it actually shakes Ozai, that's why he lashes out in anger at that comment - just like Zuko does when Aang tells him that he can be better than what the fire nation is right now. Ozai mentions Zuko's mom and I think it terrifies him, the idea that the 'weak' can become strong - I think Ozai has been taught that either you're strong or you're weak, it's innate and unchangeable. He can't imagine he's created a weak child, so Zuko MUST be naturally strong, he's just been too sheltered so it hasn't been able to come out yet.

The idea that what Ozai thought was fundamental could actually change I think shifts Ozai's entire world view. If he accepts that, then it would mean all his 'sacrificing of the weak' would have been incorrect even by his own logic - and I think it could tie back to Ursa, his wife, as well. I hope we get more on her and Ozai's actual dynamic in season 2 as it was something I felt was lacking from the OG show. Ozai, I believe is struggling as to where, actually, to place Ursa on his 'weak' or 'strong' hierarchy and it's destabilizing to him. He has to keep up the idea that the strong are strong the weak are weak and it's just the natural order of the world that the fire nation is on top - because it means they're inherently strong and that cannot change.

AAAHHHHHHH the 41st reveal!!!!!!!!! Just, the genius of that move - the layers, the angst, the connection Zuko and the crew now naturally have - it's just so good. Zuko is surrounded by evidence reminding him of the biggest failure in his father's eyes - the reason he was punished right before him. Of course he's going to harbor resentment, then extra anger when they don't treat him with respect due to his resenting them. Of course he's going to have so many conflicting feelings about being surrounded by the people whose lives he saved - at the cost of his home, his dignity, and his father's love.

He didn't intentionally set out to sacrifice all that to save their lives, but his actions led to that outcome anyways and I think that's such an interesting take to have on a 'sacrifice to save lives' story. Zuko was just doing what he thought was right. He was trying to save people, and he took his actions not having a clue what it would cost him. It's not a cut and dry - I saw something bad happening and willingly took the consequence to save them, it's much more complex than that - a complex story where the one who unwittingly gave the sacrifice learns that it truly was a sacrifice and not a punishment. Someone who was forced into a 'hero' position who has to grow and change in order to fit into that hero mold their actions have already put them in. It's just a really fascinating angle to show a heroic act.

I've seen some issues about the 41st being Zuko's assigned crew, so I wanted to address that: I assumed that all Fire Nation military was the navy. They're an island nation and every single Fire Nation military group we see are on or from ships - and we see presumably the same soldiers operating the ship as we do on the war rhinos when they come ashore. So I didn't think it was odd at all that the battalion that was about to be sacrificed in a land assault was also the one running the ship. I also don't think it 'cheapens' Zuko's sacrifice or makes it so that it was a…idk, story choice that said 'see, it's justified what all happened'. Definitely didn't see Ozai's convo with Zuko after being burned as the writers saying 'see, all this is justified and we should see good logic in Ozai's choice here' - it was very clearly still framed as bad? Yeah, Ozai thinks he's doing the right thing, but like, media literacy y'all.

Ugh, Lieutenant Jee and the rest of the crew showing Zuko the respect a crown prince would usually get right after one of Zuko's greatest 'failures' of a mission. Zuko is confused at Aang's compassion toward him, angry that he's poking holes in his world view, and crawling back on board after having lost the Avatar once again - and being greeted with love and care and respect. "Our prince has returned" - It's not the home Zuko thinks he needs to return to, but it IS the home he and the crew have made for themselves over the past 3 years. It's a place he's being welcomed back to while he's still thinking the goal is to get back to the fire nation. Such a good message that unfortunately, Zuko doesn't see quite yet, but each little step in the right direction counts.

Again, linking the ending monologue back to EVERY character in the show - this time the narrative having drawn so many parallels to how Zuko retains his mask and then showing how his father reacts the same way - showing that Ozai is wearing a mask too, just one that's been welded onto him through many more years. This was truly Zuko's episode - and it's his mask that needs to slip the most - or rather, for him to realize that the Blue Spirit that saved Aang and connected with him wasn't the mask at all, but rather what could be his true face.

I really, really liked the alterations from the animated series they did in this episode. Yes, having Zuko fight his father in the Agni Kai was a HUGE change, having his father be more than a cold and distant disapproving figure was VERY different, but I think this is what the showrunners meant when they said they were taking a more 'mature' and 'GOT' tone with this adaptation: they were adding depth and nuance to the 'villains' and making them more grounded in reality than the heightened villainy of the animated series. Older kids (and adults) can handle seeing a villain have complex interactions - they can understand that even though Ozai BELIEVES he's doing the right thing by Zuko, that he ISN'T ACTUALLY (ok, some of us can see that, others seem to think the show was saying Ozai is good, actually but that's an issue with them and their media literacy, not with the writing of the show that expects the audience to have critical thinking skills).

Anyways, it was a fantastic episode and has provided much content for my essay about live-action Ozai that I'm writing.

#natla #avatar the last airbender #netflix avatar #natla positivity #live action avatar

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catsafarithewriter · 1 year

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@champion-masquerade we thank you for your vote! You requested Baron making a fool of himself, and so I did provide!

(Unfortunately it looks like the final results are in amd despite a very close run, the Catbus has won this round! Thank you everyone who voted, and if anyone still wants a ficlet snippet for their vote, the offer remains! However, now I sleep, so please enjoy Baron and his antics!)

All Creations were made with a purpose. For Baron it was to help ‐ something he achieved through the Bureau and, before that, through just generally being a nosy busybody.

Toto had been created to protect, and unfortunately he appeared to have latched on to Baron Humbert von Useless Dramatics.

It hadn't been intentional. At first, he'd just joined the Bureau as a favour to an old friend, a temporary thing which gave him a proverbial roof over his head and a perch to call home. It should have been simple. Easy. After all, the Baron was a Creation, immune to age and disease, and hardier than any mortal. He shouldn't have needed protection.

And then the Baron had leapt through a cathedral rose window and only Toto's quick reflexes had saved the cat Creation from being dashed to splinters.

"But I knew you'd catch me," the Baron had lightly remarked when Toto had later aired his grievances. "You always do."

"And if I hadn't?" Toto had pressed. "What was your grand scheme then?"

The Baron had paused in straightening his bowtie, as frustratingly unflappable as ever, and merely looked to his friend with that trusting surety which left him leaping beyond his reach. "But you always do," he had said once more.

And Toto does. He catches the Baron again and again and again, from one sure death to the next, until Toto's begin to ebb. Even so, there are limits.

He perches on his column and watches his old friend with all the raised eyebrow a crow can muster. "I know this won't change anything," he says, "but I have to say it anyway, in hopes that one day it will sink in: this is madness."

Baron stands atop the rooftop of the Bureau and grins one of his smiles which reassure the clients, usually in the absence of anything ekse to do the job. "I would have thought you'd approve, Toto. After all, usually my leaps are in the spur of the moment, unrehearsed things. For once, we shall actually practice this before putting it to use."

"That's all well and good, but jumping for your life is one thing, whereas this simply feels... frivolous."

"It's a practical skill."

"You want to leap off a roof backwards and land on a moving object," Toto reminds him.

"Possibly with a spin, once I get it figured," Baron adds, somehow missing how not-reassuring his addition is. "Or possibly a backflip."

"Well, that makes all the difference," Toto deadpans.

"It's a matter of maintaining an element of surprise," Baron persists. "Say I'm cornered against a drop, nowhere to go but back. If I turn to leap, I'll broadcast my actions too early and probably end up skewered. However, if I learn to leap backwards, they'll never see it coming."

"Right. Because only an idiot would jump back blindly over a sheer drop."

"Exactly."

"And the spin and/or backflip helps how?" Toto asks.

"Momentum."

A long pause passes. Toto supposes that Baron's willingness to practice a leap before he puts it to the test is a sign of... well, perhaps not common sense, but an improvement. Toto sighs. "Alright. But this move better only be used in last-resort measures only, understood? This isn't to be another client-impressing trick like your light show."

"Rest assured: I shall employ it in only the most dire of circumstances."

To his credit, Baron keeps to his word – or almost. Right up until he rescues a schoolgirl from an unwanted marriage, and in their final departing, he makes that backward spin.

Toto catches him – because of course he does.

"Most dire of circumstances?" Toto reminds his friend.

Baron groans and drops his head against the crow's feathers. "Love confession."

Held from Toto's talons, Muta guffaws. "Again?'

#the cat returns #poll rewards #cat writes #ive joked about this before but never written it

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ivycorp · 1 year

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The permanent honeymoon KOBD

Living as a Decepticon on Nemesis held its pros and… well, cons, pun unintended.

On one hand, the ship was well equipped, the energon was plentiful, there was a place to recharge, and if one liked routines, the lull of chores and battle allowed a particular feeling of safety of certainty.

On the other hand, it carried a huge chance of being slagged on the field, either by Autobots or their own supreme commander by accident, and there were also some unexpected events that very few mechs considered before actually encountering them first hand.

One of those was the medical staff, which everyone had interactions with, for better or for worse. It was good to have them, but witnessing them together made one either groan internally or externally, depending on the seniority in the command line.

Nobody would risk offending the CMO without rank to pull it off - one tended to live rather… short, when that happened.

Starscream had the most recent pleasure of sustaining damage in battle, as the chatter filled the OR.

"Darling, pass me the clamp, if you don't mind?" Knock Out said, holding out his servo expectantly, as his assistant readily handed over the prepared equipment.

"Thank you, love, I knew I can count on you to be ready for me," he continued, innuendo heavy in his words; Starscream was trying very hard to not roll optics too hard, should they get stuck in that position and the visit would drag on longer than necessary.

"We work so well, don't you think, commander?" Knock Out asked, voice filled with adoration, as the clamp was placed and the operation started drawing to a close. The seeker looked down and grimaced.

"You do an… adequate job, I suppose," came the reply, through gritted denta and last dregs of patience, as Starscream tried to erase the memory of the last mega-cycle.

These two were sickening in their love, honestly, the seeker just wanted to leave at this point.

"Coming from you, it's a compliment, so thank you, commander o'mine," grinned the medic, as his husband started the cleanup. A few moments later the last of the panels clicked in place and the Decepticon SIC nearly leaped out of the berth at that sound.

"Oh no, not a chance, you are on a strict berthrest," a servo shot out, preventing that particular maneuver from happening.

"I will go back to my berth and rest then, shall I?" Starscream snarled, venom dripping from the vocaliser so heavily that most mechs would scurry away in fear.

Unfortunately for the seeker, being a CMO had its advantages - one of which was being immune from officers throwing around their weight. Even Megatron would relent if necessary - of course, to be fair, in his presence the shameless flirting usually was severely scaled down.

"I would rather you rested for a complete solar cycle where I can monitor you, commander - we both know you have a record of not listening to my recommendations," stated Knock Out matter-of-factly, as he made sure the patient did not move anywhere, motioning with one of his servos at Breakdown to come closer as backup.

"There is much to be done, medic, but I promise I will abide by your words this time," quickly reassured the flier, as the chance of escape started getting slimmer. The red mech smiled sweetly, as his partner braced the seeker's side, cutting off the way out bodily.

"I'm afraid it's not enough in this case, the work I did on you is quite delicate and could unravel upon any strenuous activity - I am putting you officially off the rota for a solar cycle, with strict limit of movement restricted to medbay," chattered Knock Out, typing out the form as he spoke, not bothering to look at Starscream who started to panic like a cornered animal.

"This requires approval of a senior officer, and I won't sign this off!" The seeker shouted, only to freeze when a soft ding came from the offending datapad, followed by another one soon after.

"Well, it seems I just got Soundwave's signature AND an official approval to detain you by force if necessary, co-signed by both our lovely TIC and our glorious leader," he laughed, as Starscream's face fell. If it was just Soundwave, there would be a slim chance of talking things out, but there was no way Megatron's signature could be overwritten now.

"I believe it is enough backing to ask you politely to stay here and rest - I will clear you off tomorrow after a check-up," promised the medic, humming to himself softly.

The medbay darkened, as the equipment was cleared away and stored for future use; a soft duo of farewells was shared, as both Knock Out and Breakdown left for their quarters, locking the medbay behind.

Starscream did not have the clearance to overwrite CMO's lock, so all that was left to do was praying for mercy.

As a loud slam was heard right on the other side of the wall, along with a "Oh darling, you should have told me you were this charged up - you need only ask!" filtering through the thin wall in the medic's voice, the seeker groaned and covered the audials, hoping to cut off all audio input.

Breakdown let out a desperate "Knock Out, love of my life, please, don't tease me today," Starscream considered the conversation shared with Soundwave about this exact problem, proposing insulation similar to the laboratories as a solution.

"Knock Out and Breakdown relationship: officially recognised. Their behavior: successful deterrent from reckless battlefield engagement or on-ship accidents. Medbay: at a manageable turnover rate. Staff accidental injuries since arrival: significantly lowered," explained the TIC one day, when the seeker pressed the matter after a short visit with a lot of flirting happening throughout the entirety of it.

Starscream had to agree, as the walls shook and the enthusiastic sounds were filling the otherwise quiet medbay - the seeker promised to think twice before doing another dangerous stunt again.

How could these two remain so energetic after such a long time being together, the SIC would never know…

*********************

Another one prompted by this post of @paraxodicalundressing

#kobd #transformers #maccadam #tfp au #i am having way more fun with these than I expected #tfp_au_writing

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storiesofsvu · 2 years

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A Redemption Earned Ch 23

Heather Dunbar x reader Warnings: language, tricky conversations, you know the drill by now. Rob & Heather acting like an old married couple.

After a very full and exciting day of third grade, you were out on the playground supervising pick ups, making sure everyone was going home with an approved adult. You’d had a bit of a free period that afternoon that you were thankful for, able to get some projects on the go while your class had joined up with the other third graders for a special art period. You weren’t sure what they’d been working on, but Cody had been psyched to show you his before the sudden distraction of monkey bars pulled him away.

You said a brief goodbye to a couple of your kids, reminding their parents to make sure the school library books were in their bags on Monday so they weren’t late returns and let out a little sigh, turning your gaze back to the playground. You caught her out of the corner of your eye as she came up to you,

“Hey.” You greeted with a warm smile, “Cody’s mom, right?”

“Yeah.” She smiled back, extending a hand, “Lily. I guess we never really got a proper introduction, it’s Ms Summers, right?”

“Yeah, but y/n’s fine.” You felt your heart rate pick up at the first sign Heather’s hunch was right and immediately started calculating how to get around all of this and not let anything slip.

“How’s he been doing?”

“He’s great! Seems to be having a good time, he’s picking things up quickly, I don’t have any worries.”

“Good.” She let out a little sigh, “he likes you a lot more than his old teacher, I think that’s really helping.”

“Mom!” A very excited Cody called out, nearly dumping his backpack on the ground as he tugged a piece of construction paper out of it, “Ms Summers!” He couldn’t really decide which of you he was more excited to show it off to but ended up leaping onto his mom who caught him with the skill only a parent could posses.

“Hey buddy.” She greeted him with a laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “how was your day?”

“Good! But look!” He gestured wildly to the paper, making sure he had your attention to as he showed it off, “we made family trees for Mrs. Henderson.”

“That’s awesome.”

“Very well done.” You complimented with a smile and he gave you very toothy grin back.

“See, there’s me and you.” He turned back to his mom, pointing at the drawings on the paper, “and gramma and grampa.” He looked up at you, “they’re by the sun cause they live where it’s real hot.”

“My parents retired to Florida.” Lily informed you with a grin and you laughed.

“And I drew this for daddy.” He pointed back to the picture and your heart leapt in your throat at the sight of a gravestone with a scribbly ‘JD’ on it.

“How very thoughtful.” She kissed him on the cheek and in an instant he was struggling to get down on the ground, art shown off, attention back on burning off energy.

“Can I keep playing with Carter til his mom comes?”

“Course buddy.” She took the paper from him and scooped up his backpack, “when she gets here why don’t you see if he wants to come over for dinner? Pizza and Pixar night?”

“Yay!” Cody squealed before racing back over to the playground to his friend.

“That’s nice.” You commented, “I don’t know a lot of parents who would do that last minute.”

“Meh,” she shrugged, “she’s a single mom too, I’m sure she could use a break for a night. It does really suck to not be able to just drop them at their grandparents, ya know?” She looked down at Cody’s art project once more before sticking it into his backpack and glancing back up at you, “I…uh… I hope you don’t think it’s like… gruesome, that Cody drew a gravestone for his dad.”

“I wasn’t gonna say anything.” You laughed lightly, “each family has their own dynamic. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“You don’t need to be.” She let out a little sigh, “he didn’t even know about Cody. It was one of those one time situations; I was planning on terminating originally but changed my mind. We’d already cut contact, and honestly I think he would’ve been a terrible father. The reason Cody doesn’t even know what he looks like is cause when I went through his Facebook to find a picture there wasn’t a single one of him not partying. Cody was two when he died, so it wouldn’t have been much anyways.” She stopped suddenly and looked up at you, “wow. Sorry. That’s an overshare much?” You both laughed, “I just haven’t had a real conversation with an adult in like a week.”

“That… I understand.” You laughed in return, not saying anything else out of fear that you were going to let it slip. Thankfully you were saved by Carter’s mom walking up and Lily getting distracted with her right before turning back to you.

“It was nice to officially meet you.”

“You too.” You smiled back to her, relieved even more when another teacher came to swap out with you and you were able to head back to your classroom to pack up your things. You grabbed your cell phone and opened the text chain with Heather.

‘I’m not even sure if I should be telling you this, but you’re the lawyer so do with it what you will. Cody’s mom’s name is Lily, it was a one night stand. His dad died about six years ago, his initials are JD and he was a pretty big partier’

The three little writing bubbles popped up almost instantly,

‘All things considered I’m going to be rather late tonight. Feel free to eat without me.’

‘Let me know if I can do anything.’

‘I will, thank you. I love you.’

‘I love you too.’

Rob almost missed the sound of knocking on the door all the way from the kitchen, only realizing someone was there when Steve started barking. He made sure the timer was set and moved through the house, pulling open the door.

“Hey Heat.”

“I need to tell you something.” She blurted out, not giving herself the chance to back out from a potentially hard conversation. Rob let out a little chuckle, leaning against the doorframe.

“I already know about y/n. It’s not an affair if we’re divorced.” He teased and she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “What’s up?”

“Well…while we’re on the topic of terrible things I did in the past…” He stepped back, letting her into the house, “we have a grandson.”

“What?” That stalled Rob, his eyes shooting up to Heather’s and he noticed the brimming of tears in her eyes.

“He looks exactly like him Rob… our sweet baby boy.” She was doing her best not to get choked up about it but it was honestly too late for that. Rob reached out, tugging her into a tight bear hug as the news sunk through him and he felt the same surge of emotion Heather was experiencing. He was beginning to nearly daydream about spending time with the boy when Heather’s previous statement began to alarm him and he grabbed at her shoulders, pulling her out of the embrace.

“Wait. What was the terrible thing you did? Please don’t tell me you threw this girl a giant sum of money to never be seen again.”

“No.” Heather rolled her eyes as she wiped at them, crossing the room to Rob’s liquor cart she helped herself and dropped down onto the couch. After a moment, Rob followed suit, sitting in the chair opposite of her.

“You gonna tell me or are we playing twenty questions?”

“You know that Jordan was always a momma’s boy, even when he was a degenerate.” Rob nodded, “he came to me about nine years ago, said he’d knocked a girl up and that she wanted to abort. I don’t think she asked for anything, Jordan just wanted to cover bases so I gave him a wad of cash and didn’t ask any questions.”

“Except she changed her mind?”

“It would appear so. I don’t think Jordan ever found out.” She leant forward, running a hand over her face, “god I really failed as a parent.”

“Don’t say that.” He assured, hand reaching out to squeeze at her arm.

“My kid knocked someone up at twenty two, I think I qualify.”

“I knocked you up at twenty-one.”

“We were married.”

“And look at how that turned out.” Rob smirked and she rolled her eyes again, “every family dynamic is different. And we did everything we could to cover our bases, both kids got the sex talk from each of us and Maria, Becca got it again from Jackie when she came out to cover the lesbian side of things. Jordan had condoms, any longer term girlfriend of his I always made sure had options for birth control and I kept a stock of the morning after pill at the house that they both had free access to for dates or friends. We did way more than most parents do.”

Heather hummed, taking a sip of her drink as she started to get lost in thought, “what if she doesn’t let us meet him?” She glanced up with the misting of tears in her eyes again and Rob cocked a brow.

“What’d’you mean? How… did you find out about all this? I kinda figured she’d come to you for money or something.”

“He’s in y/n’s class.” She sighed wearily, “I went to pick her up last week and she’s got these little collages, pictures of the kids and little self biographies. The kid looks just like Jordan did at that age, I honestly thought she had a picture of Jordan on the wall before I realized it was a recent picture.”

“And you’re sure he’s Jordan’s?”

“What, do you need me to run DNA?” She asked dryly and he chuckled.

“You would’ve demanded it in the past.”

“Y/n texted me today, I’m not sure how she found out but she was talking to the mom after school, her name’s Lily and I know that was the girl’s name. She also said Cody’s dad is dead, passed about six years ago and was a huge partier…and that his initials are JD. Combine all that together…”

“And it’s no coincidence.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re the family law lawyer… what are our options?”

“I… don’t want to force myself into this girl’s life if she doesn’t want us involved. And I really don’t want to force y/n’s hand into something unethical and get her in trouble at work.”

“Does Becca know?” He asked and she shook her head, “she’s always good with sleuthing, and they’re probably around the same age. They might even have some mutual friends, could start off with a Facebook message, or find an email through social media to start out with. Lily doesn’t have to reply if she doesn’t want to.” Heather looked up across at him a bit bewildered,

“You know, sometimes I hate that you’re smarter than me.”

“Oh I wouldn’t go that far.” He chuckled, “never in a million years could I do any of the jobs you’ve done.”

“That’s because you hate arguing.” She teased back with a grin before letting out a heavy sigh, “why am I already more invested in a kid I haven’t even met when I could barely be bothered with my own? Does that make me a terrible human being?”

“No.” Rob smiled softly at her, “I’d say it means you’re moving in the right direction. You’ve already dealt with your parenting issues in therapy, and you’ve repaired your relationship with Becca.”

“I never got the chance with Jordan.”

“Your brain is giving you the thought that this would be your second chance with Jordan. Except instead of mom this one’s gonna call you gramma.”

“Stop.”

“Grammie?”

“Rob. I swear.”

“Granny has a particularly nice ring to it.”

“Robert! Do you want to live to see tomorrow!?”

“Ohoho! I got full named.” He chuckled, leaning back in his chair as he took a sip of his drink.

“Oh god…” Heather’s brow furrowed, “what is the kid gonna call me?”

“I just gave you three wonderful options.” Rob teased and she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, and what’re you going by then?”

“Pops.” He grinned over the rim of his glass and she let out a huff of a laugh.

“Glad to know one of us has it all figured out.”

“I never thought the day would come, I just hoped.”

“I mean you could always remarry someone whose kids want or have kids.”

“Nah.” He waved her off and she raised a brow.

“Why aren’t you dating? I mean you are a catch.” She fumbled slightly, “sorry, I don’t know if that’s any of my business.”

“It’s fine Heat.” He laughed, “I’m perfectly happy with my life and I’m content on being alone. Me and Steve have a great time together, don’t we bud?” He scratched at the dogs ears and he gave a little bark in agreement.

“As long as I didn’t fuck you up too much and make you not believe in love anymore, we’re good.” She muttered with a small laugh.

“You did nothing of the sort and you know it. You also know that I believe there’s one big love out there for everybody, and you were mine.”

“Aaand I feel like a terrible human being again. Thank you.” She replied with a groan and he let out a laugh.

“I didn’t mean it like that. You were my big love and you gave me twenty nine years of a relatively stable marriage, two kids that I love with all my heart, and now, hopefully a grandson. I’m not upset that I wasn’t your big love. In high school we were each other’s big love, we both changed and evolved into different people on different paths.”

“Might’ve had something to do with me not realizing I was gay.” Heather muttered over the rim of her glass as she took another sip.

“Ah, you’ve figured the label out now?”

“I think so.” Her head tilted, “there’s almost too many to keep up with nowadays, I’ll discover a new one and get confused all over again. Becca said to just go with gay or queer for now and if I want to tighten it up later I can. And remember when I say that it doesn’t mean I didn’t love you, because I did, and still do.”

“I know.” He smiled, “might have something to do with the fact that we rarely had sex though. Especially considering everything I’ve heard; your sex drive is…” he whistled and gestured towards the ceiling twice with his thumb and Heather covered her face with her hands as she blushed.

“Jesus Christ.”

“Have you started menopause yet, cause that could make it go either way.”

“That’s it.” She pushed up off the couch, “I’m leaving.” Rob chuckled, following her to the doorway as she slipped back into her coat.

“I’m so glad we can still banter like an old married couple.” He beamed at her when she turned back to him at the door.

“I hate you.” She deadpanned.

“I love you too.” He leant in, kissing her forehead gently, “have a good session. I’ll talk to Becca; I was going over there to help her put together a dresser tonight anyways. You’re at y/n’s this week?”

“Yes. And thank you.” She stepped back toward him, hugging him briefly, “and I love you too.” She turned away with a small smile on her face as she pulled open the door and started down the stairs.

“See! I got you smiling didn’t I?” He called after her.

Heather glanced over her shoulder, smile on her cheeks but shaking her head at his playfulness before she flipped him off and made her way back into the car. While there was still a lot of things to try and figure out, she knew one thing; she was eternally grateful for Rob and the fact that he was always willing to be her sounding board. He understood her in a way that she sometimes didn’t even understand herself and in times like this, that was exactly what she needed.

_______ @ms-calhoun @naturalxselection @yesterdaysgone @hbkpop @giftedchildturns40 @anya-casablanca @svulife-rl @swimmingstudentchaos891 @alexusonfire @jamiethetrans @natasha-danvers @oliviaswifey @mysticfalls01 @cmmndrwidw @bumblebear30 @svushots @yourtaletotell @cerberus-spectre @emskisworld @ex-uallyactive @addictedtodinosaurs @imaginaryoperagloves @multifandomlesbianic @annegilletteslostwh0r3 @bookpillows @drduckthief @whimsicallymad @mmmmokdok @ladysc @momlifebehard @mmemalwa @holycrapraewth @poisonedcrowns @wannabe-fic-reader @when-wolves-howl @dead-of-niight @fighterkimburgess @lannister-slings-and-arrows @borg-queerr @godard-muse @itisdoctortoyousir @brooklynmhm @nobody-important1212 @emilyprentiss4life

#heather dunbar #heather dunbar x reader #house of cards #a redemption earned

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girl-among-mts · 1 year

Text

Part Twelve

Thalia, the young Twi'lek woman who served as Rose’s secretary, popped her head around the open office door.

“Sorry to bother, but the General is calling again.”

Rose looked up from her datapad, catching the woman’s grin.

“You don’t sound very sorry,” Rose muttered, unable to hide the flush in her cheeks as she set the tablet down. The report from Finn and Poe could wait. Ever since they’d finalized the normalized trade agreement, the Grand Marshal had become more and more comfortable ringing her up out of the blue. Sometimes he had business to discuss, trifling matters that any number of underlings could sort out themselves, but more often than not his holocalls were casual in nature. Half the time, Rose wondered if he was simply bored and had no one else to talk to.

“What’s he like in person?” Thalia pressed as Rose reached for her holocom.

She gave the Twi’lek a look. “He’s a dangerous military mastermind. A killer, /and/ a criminal,” she said matter-of-factly. Even if he was fine to look at...

Thalia shrugged a shoulder. “He’s had the Order share a lot of their new farm tech. Been a big help on my brother’s farm. So, can’t be all bad.”

Fantastic, Rose thought sourly. Already winning hearts and minds. Hux was turning out to be quite a capable politician.

“Yeah, he’s a true altruist,” she drolled. “Now can I get some privacy maybe?”

Rose rolled her eyes at the suggestive waggle of Thalia’s eyebrows as the pneumatic door swished closed. Rose depressed the answer button on her coms. There, Hux’s face came into focus. A pleased, catlike smile spread across his lips. Rose tried to tamp down the pleased little flip-flop in the pit of her stomach but utterly failed. Dangerous military mastermind, she reminded herself. Killer, criminal, and *really good* at pushing all her buttons in ways she couldn't help but enjoy, deep down.

“Ah, Commander,” he purred. “How good it is to see you.”

“Armitage,” she quipped in greeting, trying to sound professional when in reality she’d put down all her work once again to take his call. “How can I help you?”

“I simply wanted to inform you that my personal shuttle will be passing through Syris space tomorrow evening. We will be resupplying overnight before continuing on our journey”

“You don’t need to let me know every time you fly through my sector,” she reminded him, feeling a bit hot in her normally very comfortable office.

“Ah, perhaps not.” Was she imagining it, or did he seem a bit nervous just then? "However," he continued, “I am not merely calling to inform you. I was hoping you might join me. For drinks. A brief reunion of sorts. I’ve just come from the Senate, as you know. I’m sure we'll find important matters of state to discuss.”

Rose swallowed. What was he proposing? Not some kind of candlelight dinner, surely. Say ‘no’, the rational part of her brain warned immediately. You can’t just go galavanting off to have drinks with General Hux, Grand Marshal of the First Order; killer, criminal, and dangerous military mastermind. Even if he does have a massive crush on you.

Then again… she’d been approving reports and missives and signing legislation and wrangling politics for /weeks/ now without so much as an afternoon off.

A drink sounded so, so tempting…

“You better have brought that expensive, Core World... whiskey with you,” she said before she could stop herself. Hux’s sly expression turned smug.

“Of course. I'll see you tomorrow then, Miss Tico."

"Uh-huh, bye." Rose rushed to cut the comms call before her heart could leap out of her chest.

Stars, what was she doing?

#gingerrose #armitage hux #rose tico #general hux #microfic #gingerrosevss #prompt #canon divergent au

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sleeping-on-cracking-ice · 3 years

Note

heyo your imagines are amazing and i like reading them so much. i really appreciate you for writing for Alice in borderland as there isn’t a lot of content out there~ can you please write an imagine for niragi where the reader has been at the beach for quite the time and when she gets to know niragi she somehow falls for him because she sees right through him, and that he maybe starts to develop feelings for the reader too because she’s fearless and very confident. if it’s not too much trouble, could you make it a bit suggestive as well? thank you in advance~~

Of course I can! I’m not the best at writing with suggestive themes so I’ll try my best! 😅 I’m sorry but I changed the story line a little bit for it to fit more, so I hope this is still kind of what you had in mind.

Unlovable | Suguru Niragi

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Character(s): Niragi (ft. Ann, Aguni, Hatter, Mira, Chishiya, Arisu, Last Boss)

Summary: Niragi finally finds you, who loves him for who he is, well, not exactly. And he gets a bit too attached.

Warnings: toxic relationship, suggestive themes, a lot of gaslighting, obsessive themes, a little bit angsty, threatening, choking, swearing, name calling

Word Count: 3.2k

*reader is female

Author’s Note: Sorry this took a while to post. I was busy for the past couple of days so it’s kinda rushed 😣

“Y/N! Come quick!”

You jolted awake as Ann burst into your room, shaking the door frame from the force. You blinked your eyes to adjust to the light, looking at her dazed.

“What?” you murmured, sitting up and out of the comfy sheets on your bed.

“The executives have called a meeting. They say it’s urgent,” she stressed, rushing up to the side of your bed and ripping the duvet off of you.

You shivered and sighed loudly in disappointment. “Why? It’s too early for this shit,” you whined, rolling back onto your side and closing your eyes again. These urgent emergency meetings have become ridiculous, always taking place in the morning when everyone’s still sleeping. You would gladly have quit having the higher place at The Beach if it meant for you to have some peace and quiet.

“Now!” Ann pushed again. You groaned in annoyance and got out of bed. She seemed serious, so you didn’t want to anger her more.

You both quickly made your way to the top floor where the meeting room for the executives was located. You noticed Ann’s heavy breathing and worried expression, making you anxious as to what she thinks could have happened.

Hatter had left the night before to replenish his visa, having a big celebration as he drove off with Aguni and a few more of his men. Things had been becoming more tense as time went on. It felt wrong watching Hatter drive away so reluctantly. You offered to assist him in his game, seeing as you earned yourself a high number at The Beach from clearing many difficult games yourself. But Hatter declined, insisting that he would return to The Beach safe and sound before you knew it.

But unfortunately, he was wrong.

You and Ann rushed into the large room. You saw Arisu and Chishiya standing near the end of the table placed in the middle of the room. You strolled over to them and laid eyes on the scene before you.

There, Hatter laid dead on the table. Limbs spread out lifeless, skin pale and dead. The horrific sight made you feel sick, making you cover your mouth with your hand. The scene almost felt unreal, this shouldn’t have happened. Hatter wouldn’t be dead if you just went with him.

Ann walked over to his body to examine it, but before she even had the chance to touch the bullet wound embedded in his bare chest, Niragi barged into the room with his usual cocky and obnoxious aura filling the air like a bad smell.

“Oi, don’t touch him as you please. You dissection maniac,” he growled.

Your eyes followed him closely. Now that Hatter was gone, people like him could start dangerous trouble at the hotel. But, as long as you said something about it, you would make sure Niragi wouldn’t start any fires that he’s not willing to put out himself.

After all, you were the only person who knew his true self, and how he perceived everyone around him. It was pathetic really. In a way you took pity on him. Such a simple tactic for the brain to protect itself, become a heartless and cold monster towards others so no one could ever do the same to you again.

With Niragi, unfortunately it was hunt or be hunted.

You kept your strong gaze on him as he lifted his eyes to meet yours from across the table for a hot minute. His dark orbs glistened as they locked with yours, making the tension in the room become thicker as every second passed. He smirked in your direction before turning away.

“He was shot by a gun,” Ann stated, breaking the thick silence in the room. She looked over the small hole in his chest in fascination.

“What will happen to The Beach?” a young man asked who was standing nearby you. You stayed silent, not wanting to start anything that may end in chaos. You always had good points and valid arguments, but sometimes you knew when the best time was to bring them up. This was not it.

“I mean it’s only reasonable for the strongest to become the new leader!” Niragi exclaimed over everyone. “We need someone who can take good care of The Beach and keep order,” he yapped on, swinging his sniper rifle all around making a few people flinch when he aimed it at them.

You rolled your eyes at his behaviour. Trust him to be the most opinionated.

“I say, how about Aguni as our new leader,” he suggested, leaning forwards onto the table and watching everyone like a hawk. Aguni held no reaction, keeping his usual cold stone expression while having Niragi speak for him.

After no one reacted, all looking down to the ground to avoid Niragi’s gaze, he stood up straight and pulled a bored expression. “That’s not a good reaction,” he mocked, “Last Boss?”

You glanced over to where the hooded figure stood, watching in fear as he unsheathed his katana sword and rushed over to Ann, holding the deathly sharp blade a few inches from her throat. Your heart leaped to your mouth. If he was to try anything, you were ready to start chaos.

But nothing of the sort happened. Ann simply sighed frustratingly and held up her hand obediently. Niragi hummed, approving.

“This isn’t a majority vote,” Mira hissed from next to him.

Niragi stood and leaned his face close to hers, holding the barrel of his weapon close to her face to threaten her. “But it is! Isn’t it? After all, you’re all free to vote as well.”

One by one, he slowly circled the table, each person being scared for their life the closer he got to them. But you remained calm next to Chishiya, knowing that considering the relationship you have with Niragi, he wouldn’t do anything that would hurt you. He didn’t have the guts to.

As he moved from Chishiya, he finally locked eyes with you. He quickly strolled up to your still frame, stopping suddenly very close to you in an attempt to make you feel threatened. ‘As usual,’ you thought to yourself. ‘The old “I’m taller and bigger than you so I’m stronger” stupid tactic.’

“And what about you princess? Care to raise your hand for a vote for Aguni?” he hissed into your face. You held your neutral expression, becoming bored from this act he was putting on. It was purely for show, and yet wasn’t everyone’s personality? But Niragi, his act of this scary psychotic man angered you to your core.

“What if I don’t?” you snickered, walking towards him in an attempt of intimidation. He took a step back in shock. “It’s not like you need my precious vote, you already have so many.”

Niragi’s usual cocky smirk melted from his face, turning into a frustrated scowl. You felt him put his rifle underneath your chin, forcing you to lock eyes with him. “Be careful with that tongue of yours sweetheart, you wouldn’t want to lose it,” he growled quietly.

His threat made you smirk, almost bringing butterflies into your stomach. “I think you should be more concerned about that head of yours. You wouldn’t want to get it stuck too far up your own ass.”

You flinched as you felt his rough hand shoot from his rifle to your neck, instantly tightening around your throat making you widen your eyes in surprise. You lifted your arm and gripped his wrist in case he tightened his hold anymore. The look on his face was deathly. If looks could kill, you’d be already a few years into the afterlife.

Chishiya stood beside you watching the whole scene. He knew better than to intervene, as he could tell that Niragi wouldn’t ever intentionally permanently hurt you.

Niragi held you still as he leaned down to your ear, his hot breath hitting your sensitive skin. “Shut your fucking mouth you brat. You wouldn’t want me to hurt you too much later, would you?” You cringed as you felt his tongue slide behind the back of your ear, the piercing making you shiver.

“Niragi,” you heard Aguni say, saving you from the public embarrassment of getting felt up by Niragi in front of everyone you knew. “That’s enough, I think she gets the point.”

Niragi grunted in annoyance before loosening his fist on your neck. You sucked in a huge gasp of air, coughing slightly. Chishiya placed a gentle hand on your back in a sign of care, hoping that you’re okay.

Niragi aimed his rifle lazily at Chishiya’s face. “She’s fine, don’t touch her. A little choking is nothing she can’t handle.”

Chishiya immediately took his hand off of you, being taken back by Niragi’s comment.

You stood up straight after recovering, laying your eyes back on Niragi as he continued terrorizing the executive members.

God you hated that man. You hated how much you loved him.

*************

The room was now empty, consisting of no one except for you and Ann, who was still looking over Hatter’s body for any other injuries. You watched curiously, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed.

“Seems a bit weird, doesn’t it?” you spoke up through the silence.

“What does?” Ann answered, not bothering to look at you.

“Someone with a hundred percent winning streak dies now? Just as the tension between the militants and the others was getting to its peak?” you questioned.

Ann rolled her eyes sarcastically and turned towards you. “Took you long enough to figure out. Really? You didn’t suspect that from the start? Even after that shit-show that Niragi pulled earlier?”

You were taken back by her sudden anger. Ann never became mad at you, even if she had a legitimate reason to. You looked at her as she stared into your eyes intensely before sighing and turning back to Hatter.

“Sorry Y/N,” she apologized. “I’m just stressed. This shit is getting too heavy to handle, and now with Hatter gone and Aguni in his place, who knows what will happen to people like you, me, Mira, Chishiya and Alice. They could kill us if they want to.”

Her words hit your heart heavily. It was true. Aguni and his militants were never a particularly predictable bunch. And you weren’t exactly on all their good sides, well, except for Niragi’s.

“Sorry Ann,” you muttered out quietly. You thought it would be best to leave her alone. She obviously was quite distraught from Hatter’s death.

You shuffled out of the room, head held low in despair. Who knew what would happen to this place now? It was like a ticking time bomb only no one knew how long there was left until it exploded.

As you walked through the large door frame that led outside of the meeting room, a sudden grip on your arm brought you out of your thoughts and made you yelp. You were yanked into a hard chest, being held close and tight.

“Hey love. How are you feeling?” the person growled. You looked to see it was none other than Niragi himself. Of course it was, who else would treat you so roughly?

You stared into his ominous eyes, trying to read him. He ran his hand down your back slowly causing you to shiver. “Niragi,” you breathed out. You pushed against his broad chest to separate you. “Sorry, but I’m not in the mood right now.”

You stepped away from him and tried to escape down the hall, but he grabbed your hand before you could go anywhere. “Bullshit. You’re never in the mood. And the sass you were giving me in there in front of everyone says otherwise.” He pulled you back towards him, pushing your head onto his shoulder and nuzzling into your neck. “I didn’t like how you treated me, it made me upset.”

He was lying through his teeth, knowing that making you feel guilty for defending yourself against him would bring him more of your attention. Simple gaslighting, worked every time.

You chuckled against him then leaned back and cupped his face with your hands. He held a sad expression on his face, obviously to make you sympathetic.

“You’re such a big baby,” you laughed. “Try to act so tough and dominant in front of everyone, but look at you now. Crying into my shoulder about your feewings?” you mocked him. Niragi scowled and pulled his head out of your hands. “Shut up, as if you’re any better.”

It was true. That’s why you both clicked together. He was a gaslighting maniac who knew how to put up a fake ‘nice guy’ façade around you and you were a tough and snappy woman, who felt much too much empathy for others.

That’s how you fell into his trap. He used your empathy to his advantage, making you fall in love with him so he could have what he’d always wanted. Someone who loves him for who he is, no matter how many masks he had to put on for them.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, leaning up and pressing a small peck onto his lips. “Can you promise me something?” he suddenly asked after you pulled away from his face.

You grew anxious about what he wanted and nodded your head slowly in hesitation.

“When the chance comes, can we leave The Beach together? Like, run away?” he questioned, snaking his arms around your waist and squeezing tightly.

You laughed at his question, making him frown. He was being completely serious. “And go where Niragi? There’s not exactly a place we can go to.”

“Anywhere,” he answered sharply. “We could find a nice little hideout in Tokyo. Just you and me, no one else.” His grip on your waist tightened, making you flinch in his arms slightly.

He could see you tossing between answers. It wasn’t working, he had to try something else. He put on the fakest sad face he could do and pressed his forehead against yours while pouting. “Please? I promise I’ll take care of you.”

You practically melted as his begging. “Okay,” you sighed.

“Promise me,” he reminded you, running a hand through your soft hair.

There was a short moment of silence before you answered. “I promise.”

*************

You laid in your room with the sheets tossed lazily over you. Niragi was called to go talk to Aguni again before he went to sleep, so you were waiting for him.

Your eyes scanned your book quickly, wanting to finish the chapter you were on before Niragi returned. Because god forbid you having your attention on something that wasn’t him when he was around.

You glanced over at the door when you heard it creep open and Niragi stepped in, placing his sniper rifle carefully on the ground nearby and removing his boots.

“You took your time.” you teased, putting your book on the nightstand and sitting up in bed. Niragi groaned tiredly, stumbling over to your shared bed and collapsed dramatically face down onto the duvet. You giggled at him, running a soft hand though his midnight hair and pulling it out of it’s hair tie.

If he was a cat, he swore he could’ve purred at your touch. It made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. Not having physical affection for years on end does that to a person.

He sat up and crawled over to you. He grabbed your chin and pressed your lips together roughly, running his tongue across your mouth as he did so. You groaned into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck, making him smirk against your lips.

After a few minutes, he detached his lips from yours and started licking and sucking your sensitive skin on your jaw, slowly making his way down your neck. He felt shivers run down his spine as you gripped his shirt in your fist on his back. He loved having this power over you, and having you accept him and love him enough to not fight back.

You leaned your head back and closed your eyes, giving him more access to your neck. As you did so, he placed a hand on your lower back and pulled you towards him, forcing you to lie down on the bed with him hovering over you.

He pulled away from your neck and looked down at you, admiring your anxious expression painted across your face. He chucked. “What’s wrong baby,” he cooed, leaning down and continuing kissing your collarbones.

His voice was dripping in sweetness, so sweet it could’ve made you feel sick. It sounded fake, but you didn’t pick up on it. It was a shame. You saw Niragi as nothing but a victim of his own mind, but you weren’t able to see yourself becoming a victim of it.

“I’m just...” you mumbled out, feeling weak and vulnerable under his touch. “I’m scared Niragi.”

He pulled back again and looked into your eyes with a worried expression. “Why are you scared? It’s just me and you here angel. You’re perfectly safe,” he whispered out, stroking his knuckles down your cheek lovingly.

You knew you loved Niragi, but knowing he can change his personality in a blink of an eye unsettled you. Who knew when he would do that to you? You heard him speak up again.

“We’ve slept together many times before, why are you becoming shy just now?” he teased, lifting a hand and slowly running it up along your tummy underneath your shirt. Your breath hitched as his cold hands made contact, making your stomach muscles tense.

“So sensitive,” he cooed again, snuggling his head into your chest, just above your breasts. “I love you.”

The confession made your heart skip a beat and you tensed. Niragi noticed this, making his body fill with anxiety. Did he say it too soon?

“Sorry,” he mumbled against your shirt. “That was a bit much, you don’t have to say it back,” he gaslighted.

“No,” you cut him off. “I love you too.”

Niragi’s heart filled with warmth and he felt all his nerves tingle around his body. He hadn’t heard that since he was a kid, and hearing you say it did nothing but make him more fall in love.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he sniffed out. You looked down to see him staring at you, tears filling his eyes. It made your heart ache.

He took his body weight off you and hovered himself above you again. “I promise, I won’t let anyone ever hurt you,” he mumbled, voice cracking slightly. His arms that laid on either side of your head acted like a cage. Whether you were trapped willingly or forcefully was beyond your guess.

As he leaned his head down again and pressed his still wet lips against yours, you felt his lanky arms snake around your torso underneath you, keeping you in place.

You laid there, moving your mouths together and holding each other as close as possible. It would’ve almost been romantic and loving if it wasn’t for the context. While one was preying on their victim to achieve what they’ve so desperately wanted their whole life, the other believed that that person was the victim themselves.

Such irony, to love someone who has a ‘unlovable’ personality, when it’s not even the one that you fell in love with.

The one you fell in love with was nothing but one of his many masks. And no one could determine whether he would ever take it off in front of you.

Author’s Note: I’m so sorry this one was actually hard to write. It’s a bit all over the place but I hope it was still enjoyable to read! Also I’m not going to do a Part 2 to this fic, but if you want to read something similar to this kind of yandere theme with Niragi, read my other fic called You’re Everything You Once Hated. I’m going to be posting a Part 2 of that one soon.

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writefightandflightclub · 3 years

Text

Trial by Fire (Part 1/3) Santiago “Pope” Garcia x GN reader

Summary: You’re finally introducing your new boyfriend to The Boys. It must be intimidating for your guy because, hello? Not only are they literally lethal, as well as infeasibly handsome, but they’re hella protective of you to boot. They want the best for you so, naturally, they make your guy run the gauntlet the whole evening. Santiago, though? Well. Given that he is secretly in love with you? Let’s just say he doesn’t handle the situation very well at all.

Genre / tropes: angst, friends to lovers, love confession.

Author’s note: I wasn’t planning on writing this (in fact I’m writing the opposite, where “Santi has a new girlfriend and you don’t take it well” as a series, loosely based around the 7 deadly sins); but, in the meatime, I wrote this to get back into the swing of things after a lil break. It’s just a quick one, but there will be a second and final part, if you want it! Let me know!

Word count: somehow, 4.4k.

Warnings: language, angst, best friends arguing, Santi being an asshole.

Rating: T

The boys aren’t being as awful as you had anticipated, at least. For the most part, they’re actually being pretty friendly, and although they’ve transitioned into grilling Dean about every aspect of his life, they are at least listening intently and smiling at his answers. All except for one fucker, of course; and, naturally, surprising no-one, the fucker misbehaving is one (1) Santiago “Pope” Garcia.

The group - the boys, yourself, and Dean- are huddled comfortably around the blazing warmth of the fire pit in Frankie’s yard. The dancing, oranged flames cut through the dark and cold of the crisp night, as you sit upwind of the smoke on scattered, mis-matched camp chairs.

Whilst the others are evidently enjoying the evening -faces painted with smiles, body language open and leaning-in to chat to Dean- that fucker Santi is leaning back in his chair, his jaw twitching in seeming aggravation, his arms folded, and his intense eyes needling your beau. In this dim light, with the firelight licking over the sharp planes of his face, he looks every bit like a trained killer about to leap out of the shadows and garotte someone. Well… a very petulant trained killer. His call sign should have been Mr. Grumpy Pants, you think idly.

What’s up with him this time?! you wonder.

He gets these moods sometimes. And, when it strikes him, he can be a little bit hostile - despite the fact he’s a puppy underneath it all. You had hoped that for once, maybe he would suck it up, and yet, your hopes had been in vain, it seems.

Every time Dean speaks, or touches you, or even laughs at another of the guys’ stories, Santi’s expression sinks further and further through layers of distaste; and, by this point, he’s eyeing Dean as though he’s a war criminal the squad have been sent to take-out. You half expect him to leap up and take down Frankie any second for fraternizing with “the enemy”, if you’re honest.

Truth be told, you’ve had just about enough of this. Your friend had better buck his ideas up, sharpish, or he’d be reminded very swiftly that you were Delta Force too.

For now, trying to ignore the bastard, you look back at Dean, and the sight of him in animated conversation with your buddies causes at least some of your aggravation to fall away. Things have been going well between you and Dean, even if you do say so yourself. Originally from Michigan, he now worked as a lecturer at a nearby music school. He was also a banjo musician in a bluegrass / synth power-pop mash-up of a band, which (sort of) explained his retro-inspired mop of brown hair and his thick dark moustache - majestic enough to rival Frankie’s. True, he wasn’t your usual type, but he was honest, and sweet and kind... Plus, he’d never killed anyone with his bare hands, which was rather refreshing too, if you were honest.

Safe to say, so far, things were working out. So well, in fact, that you’d recently met his parents for the first time while they were in town. So well, in fact, that -after keeping him purposefully away from the boys for as long as you feasibly could- you’d now brought him to meet your family. That’s what this squad was to you, after all. Your family.

Remembering sporadic moments from the past few months together, you smile gently as you listen to Dean talk. You watch him seamlessly integrate some tailored conversation starters you’d fed him ahead of time, and you gently squeeze his thigh in an act of reassurance and appreciation. He is feeling the pressure, you can tell, although he is handling it well. To be fair, you think, who wouldn’t feel the pressure? You’d been nervous enough to meet his parents, but this? A bunch of Delta Force guys and an MMA champion? This squad was lethal; literally -you’ve lost track of your combined kill count, though Will probably hasn’t, you are sure.

Aside from that though, most of all, they are your family. You need them to like Dean and vice versa, and you know that isn’t necessarily a given. You are a tight-knit group, with little hope of outsiders grasping the full extent of your decade’s old in-jokes, or the intense camaraderie instilled by facing a hail of bullets together. Plus, as the baby of the group, they were protective as all hell of you.

It came from a good place, you knew: they wanted what was best for you. But, there was a reason you’d delayed this meeting... It’s not as though they were threatening or anything. They didn’t do the whole “if you hurt our buddy, I’ll kill you” thing, for example (at least, not while you were present – you couldn’t vouch for what happened when you were out of earshot). However, after introducing a succession of boyfriends to them over the years, the squad had developed a well-rehearsed system for sizing-up your new squeeze. In the past, not all of your squeezes had made it through the gauntlet. It was a trial by fire, to be sure, and you were pleased that Dean has not yet been burned.

Of course, whilst the boys’ approval didn’t mean everything to you, you couldn’t deny it was important; perhaps especially this time, with this guy. And, out of all of the group, Santi’s approval meant the most to you. Always had. Probably because Santi meant the most to you, full stop. You simply couldn’t imagine having someone in your life that didn’t get on with your best friend. And, so, you are not overly thrilled at the reception Santi is giving Dean right now. The reception he had been giving him all evening, in fact. And the more you dwell on it, the more an anger bubbles forth from you. Even though you try to push it down, and focus on Dean, that fucker in the corner of your eye sends you.

“What’s wrong with you tonight, Garcia?” you blurt out, a little louder than intended, causing the amiable chat and giggles to stall, all eyes turning to you - then, in turn, following the direction of your fiery gaze over to Santi, who shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

Now, he leans forward. Looks back at you with a rare venom in his eyes. With a smug curl of his mouth, he dips to pick up his beer from the floor and takes a swig - buying himself some time. Trying to brush you off. Still, your gaze does not relent as he rests his elbows on his thighs, bridging his fingers together in the space between, thumbs sticking in the air.

Now, he engages, and he looks directly at Dean, his eyes sweeping dismissively over the entirety of his form. Now, he speaks, his voice filled with far more bitterness than the situation merits. “Nothing at all. I’m fucking peachy. So, Dean. You play the motherfuckin’ banjo?” he offers, and yet, it sounds far more like an accusation than a question.

What the fuck is up with him?

Wilting a little beneath Santi’s stare, as the ex-operative squints his eyes in his direction, Dean casts a helpless, sideward glance at you from his place in the circle, and yet, you are so stupefied by anger that you can do little to help.

“I think what my dear friend means to say -” Frankie dips in valiantly, smacking Santi pointedly on the thigh, likely hoping to smack some sense into him too “- is why don’t you tell us more about your music, Dean?”

Frankie’s eyes and smile are soft when he looks at you, surreptitiously exchanging a pointed look -what’s up with that pendejo?- and you are grateful that at least some of the evident tension is diffused when he picks up the slack in the conversation.

Santi and his mood swings be damned, and, feeling bolstered, Dean continues on.

“Actually, it’s going pretty frickin’ well with the band. It’s a side-gig to my lecturing job, but we’re planning a tour during summer vacation. The States -east coast- and Western Europe for now. Maybe headlining a couple of small festivals, if that pans out, who knows.” Dean relates, humbly.

“That’s great, man,” Will chips in, helping Frankie get things back on track. “We’ll have to come down to a gig soon, hear you play.”

“Actually, we have something to tell you about the tour, don’t we, babe?” Dean says bashfully, and he looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to pick-up the thread. You’d talked about it before coming today, and it had seemed like a great idea at the time, but suddenly, now that the announcement is imminent, your mouth is dry - as if filled with cotton. Still, you force a smile, and you’re not sure why, but you look anywhere else but at Santi as your lips form the words. “Yeah – kinda big news, fellas. I’m going to join Dean on the Europe leg of the tour. I’ll be leaving you losers behind for a few months.”

Dean’s face cracks into a smile and he reaches for your hand, looking made-up at the prospect. Still, while you will yourself to be fully present in the moment, you find yourself focussed on looking anywhere but at Santi, sure that his stare must be boring into the side of your head. You hadn’t told him yet. Unfortunately, at Santi is where just about everyone else ends up looking, as the fucker abruptly pushes his camp chair back and stands, storming indoors before anyone can hope to fathom it.

You exchange glances with Frankie, Will, and Benny, with Benny thankfully stepping-in this time to distract Dean from the obvious, and asking him which stops you two will be making, and which sights you plan to see.

“Look, man, don’t mind that tool. Got any sightseeing plans?”

What is Santi’s problem? Why can’t he give Dean a chance? Yes, you’ve made some mistakes in the past- been hurt, and Santi had helped you pick up the pieces -every time- but you had a good feeling about Dean. A really good feeling. Can’t he see that too?

Frankie throws a concerned glance back towards the house and motions as if to stand, but you beat him to it, wanting to get to the bottom of this. “I’ll go,” you insist, motioning for Frankie to stay put, and with a quick promise to Dean that you’ll be back soon (and a silent plea to your boys to take care of him in your absence), you do just that, walk-jogging across the grass.

When you step inside to the kitchen, you find Santi stood, hunched over the counter, his palms clasping the surface tight enough that his knuckles pale, and his head hung low, his shoulders rising and falling as he takes in exaggerated breaths.

“Well?” you ask pointedly, with zero tolerance for his bullshit. “What’s going on with you? Wanna explain why you’re being an ass to my boyfriend?” you challenge to the back of him, and he instantly whips around at the sound of your voice.

“I’m being an ass?” he asks indignantly, his eyebrows shooting towards the top of his head.

“Yes. In a nutshell. Yes,” you hiss, any other interpretation feeling impossible. You fold your arms and purse your lips, making it plainly evident that you are waiting for some explanation. And, oh boy, it had better be good.

Instead of explaining though, Santi simply huffs out breath, gesturing angrily out of the window. “That guy, really? That’s the guy you’re gonna go all in for? Go to fucking Europe for?”

That guy, you mouth silently, completely stupefied for a moment. You’re not sure exactly what your so-called friend is insinuating, but you are clear that you don’t like it one bit.

“What is your fucking problem?” you ask, punctuating your words with motions of your hands, as if you are trying to strangle the air in-between you in lieu of his neck. “Dean’s a catch. He’s hot, he’s sweet, he’s a nice guy. He’s there for me. He takes care of me.”

“Like I don’t take care of you?!” Santi exclaims, his voice rising and abrasive; and then, immediately after the words tumble forth from his lips, he steps back imperceptibly, as if startled by his own outburst, his hand rasping over the stubble on his chin.

“What in the...? This isn’t about you, you ass!” you bite back, face scrunching up in confusion. Your fingers come to your temples as you grow increasingly lost-off and perplexed, and seemingly, your riposte only makes Santi double down on whatever the hell he is complaining about.

“Who’s the one who’s always been there for you, hmm? Who picks up the pieces every time you make yet another dumb shitty choice with another shitty guy?” he rambles, gesturing his hand towards you dismissively.

You step back from him this time, just a little, tears spiking instantaneously in your eyes at such an unnecessarily cruel blow. He’s right, in a sense: you had always relied on Santi to heal you, not to hurt you - and yet here he was dealing these painful, incoherent blows out of nowhere.

“Shit, Garcia. If it’s that much trouble to be there for me don’t bother next time,” you snap, your voice breaking as the swell of anger and hurt and adrenalin sends tears spilling over your cheeks. “Don’t worry though, I don’t think I’ll need you again. In fact, I have a feeling this guy might stick. So, maybe? Maybe you should think about the fact that the only shitty guy around here is you.”

“You really think he’s good enough for you, hmm? He’s really who you want to end up with?”

You listen, aghast, as his tirade keeps coming. However, as Santi’s voice breaks with emotion part-way through his second question, you can’t explain it, but you feel an intolerable sadness in the pit of you. Even though you’re not sure what’s causing all this, what you’re barrelling toward, you want to thrust this sadness away from you. Push him away from you. You want to push away the knot in your stomach for fear that if you tug at that thread, you might arrive at an answer to his question.

Exasperated, overwhelmed, you roughly paw tears from your cheeks, not knowing where all of these feelings are coming from, in either direction. “Fuck, I... I don’t understand what this is. I don’t get it!” you say, waving your hands, palms-up, through the air. “Is this some macho bullshit? Have I pissed you off somehow?”

At that, the wave of Santi’s anger crests and breaks; as you wonder if you annoyed him. Then, as suddenly as his anger came it is waning, his eyes pooling with rare tears now. With a huff of breath he tears off his damn cap, tossing it aside to run a hand through his grizzled hair.

“No. No,” he backtracks a little, palms up in surrender. “You haven’t... I.... I just...” He pinches his lips in-between his teeth and looks up at the ceiling as his words trail off, perhaps trying to steady his voice before continuing. Or, perhaps he has nothing else to say to you. Perhaps he’s said enough.

You examine him. Still pissed as all hell, but worried now too, and ultimately, your love for your best friend slightly edging-out the anger. It’s rare that anything affects him like this, and you can’t help the sudden rush of concern.

Cresting too, you exhale a tightly held breath into the now silent, taut space between you, and your body sags - just a little. You chew over your words a moment, but when your voice comes back the volume is lower, your tone softer - and, although it cannot be considered friendly, by any stretch, it’s the best you can do right now.

“You know what,” you offer, generously, wrapping your arms around your own middle, stroking your forearms with your own fingertips. “I’m giving you a pass. You don’t even want to give Dean a chance? Then just leave, Santi. Just go. I’ll give the guys some bullshit excuse that doesn’t leave you looking like a total ass, because I’m not a dick to my friends. So just go, okay?” You pump your eyebrow at him indignantly and await a response, your manner stiff and unyielding.

Santi closes his eyes and knits his brow together, something like regret finally passing over his face and he shuffles guiltily from foot-to-foot.

You puff out air through your teeth and shake your head, as you observe this Delta Force hero; the bravest man you know in many ways, but still too cowardly to tell it like it is. To admit that he’s in the wrong. You are afraid to say that even as his gaze comes back to you, misty-eyed, you have little sympathy for his plight. You are sure it is of his own doing. You are almost as sure that he won’t open-up.

“You know,” you begin, breaking from your position and gathering up a fresh cooler of beers from the fridge, turned away from him as you speak. “I brought Dean to meet my family. Do you understand that? I didn’t have parents and siblings for him to meet. I have you guys. You’re my family.”

Still nothing. Nothing but silence greets you. Nothing but a pained expression on his face, his brows drown together and the artificial light of the kitchen highlighting the harsh planes of his face as you look over your shoulder at him, waiting for some reaction. Some admission of guilt. None comes. He simply slots his hands into his jean pockets, looking sheepish.

“So,” you continue, greeted with a brick wall, “fuck knows why you don’t want me to be happy, but I am. I’m happy with him. Thanks a ton for shitting all over that.”

You don’t even bother to look towards him this time, instead placing the last of the clinking, condensation-adorned bottles into the carrier, resigned to head back out without him, and without any apology.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says, and your head whips towards him in surprise.

He looks it - sorry. He looks apologetic. Deeply so. He looks sorry for this, for every way he’s ever slighted you, for every time he’s hurt you, even in ways and moments you never knew about. He looks sorry down to the pit of him, and it catches you off-guard when you see it freely offered there in his eyes.

Even so, this is a stubborn man. There’s an apology, but there’s no explanation. Nothing to explain his behaviour. So, even though it seems genuine, it also doesn’t seem like enough.

It doesn’t appease you, and yet, all you can bring yourself to do is sigh deeply.

You know Santi better than anyone, but there’s always been a part of him that has seemed out of reach, even to you. You’re not sure -never have been- whether to be scared or excited by those unknown parts of him. Not sure whether the impasse hints at buried secrets too dark and deep to bear, or whether it hints of a possibility of something more. Something deeper or something better you could have together, if only he would let you in. You don’t know, and you never have, but all you are sure of is that you have constantly teetered on the edge of that abyss, too much left unknown to know all of him, however much you may have wished to. He’s entitled to his secrets, of course, but you hate how they hurt him.

With a little sympathy now, you examine his watery eyes, and when your voice comes back this time, it is softer and slower than you intended. More tired than you expected.

“You know, Dean wants to be with me. And he tells me so.” You casually dip down to pick-up the cooler handle, eyes still fixed on your best friend. “He might not be Delta Force… he might be a banjo player from Michigan… but even he’s brave enough for that.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Santi says, bristling all over again, his hand rasping angrily over his stubbled jaw, and yet, you decline him an explanation. Instead, keeping your own secrets now, holding back, you head towards the door, beers in hand.

Still, you turn back to him. You might be angry, but you still care for him -more than you could say.

“If you figure out what’s up with you, let me know, and I’ll be there for you. Whatever you’ve got going on, you know that, right? But this? This isn’t okay, Garcia. You might think that I make dumb choices -you ass, by the way- but I’ve watched you hit self-destruct so many times instead of dealing with your feelings. Maybe you should look at your own life, huh, instead of shitting all over me for trying to be happy? Shit, at least I fucking try.”

His eyes shift from side to side in the room, the muscles in his jaw twitching, chin jutting forward, and his thumbs locked in his belt loops. He can’t quite bring himself to meet your gaze; at least not until you are disappearing through the threshold; until it’s almost too late. Why can’t he ever manage anything unless it’s too late?

“Wait!” he pleads, but you cut him off, before he can speak. Even though, truth be told, you’re not sure he would muster anything to say at all, even if you gave him a chance. He’s so used to holding back.

“No,” you say firmly. “Forget it, I’m done. I still love you- you’re my best friend. But, fuck, just go home, and get out of my sight, Santiago. I’m so pissed with you right now.”

And so, you turn away, and when his words finally do come, they are spoken to the back of your head. They are spoken without you ever seeing his lips move, and you wonder if he ever said them at all, or if this might be some cruel trick of the night. Some witching hour spell. That is, until you turn towards him and you see the words painted clearly on his face too.

“Fuck it. I’m in love with you.”

I’m in love with you.

Why can’t he ever manage anything unless it’s too late?

You’re not sure what reaction he was expecting, but you almost choke on the sudden lump in your throat. You feel a taste of bile rising-up into your mouth. An intense, resurgent anger fills you, which near makes the room spin, and makes your hands and your legs tremble.

Even if a hidden, unconscious part of you has been waiting, hoping for these words all these years, when they finally come all you can feel is... royally pissed off.

“Oh. No. No. No,” you repeat, words gradually increasing in volume, looking at Santi as if he has mortally wounded you, rather than offered that confession. “You do not get to do this to me.”

You see a hard swallow bob down his throat, a near-instant regret on his face, and your heart pounds in your chest as you reel with the implications of his words.

The coward. The fucking asshole. He waited until now? All the times things had gone to shit, and he waited until you were happy?

“All the times...” you accuse, your tone as bitter as the taste in your mouth, the metallic tang of blood as you feel a rushing in your ears. “All the fucking times. All the chances, Santi, and you do this now?” you continue, your finger sawing through the air, wagging accusations at him, even as your voice wavers, as your hands notceably tremble. “No. Fuck you, Garcia. Fuck you.”

You want to cry, or scream, but you are too angry. So angry, that it eclipses anything else which might come to light. So angry that you almost come full circle again, beginning to stabilise out at eerily calm.

Santi looks down at the floor, and exhales air, chuckling disbelievingly to himself, then lightly nodding his head, lips pressed tightly together. His feet shift agitatedly below him as he brings his endlessly familiar eyes back up to meet yours. This time when he looks at you, it hurts. You remember bullet wounds, and you swear that was nothing compared to this.

“That’s it? That’s all you’ve got to say to me, hmm? Fuck you, Garcia?”

“What the fuck were you expecting?” you say, launching your words before you realise the implications of them. Yes, you know fine well that your boyfriend is sitting outside, likely wondering where you have got to. But, if you had the wherewithall to have thought about it, you would know exactly what Santi was expecting, despite all of that. You would know that a part of him must be expecting, hoping, that when he told you, you might reciprocate. That you might love him back.

And, would that be so outside of the realms of possibility? Would it be so hard to imagine that the deep, magnetic, and unshakeable friendship you shared could be something else? Something more? That you could tip over the edge you had long been teetering on? Maybe it could, or maybe it could have, but right now, you can’t see past the flashbang he has just dropped over your life, and it is clouding your vision.

You were happy. You are happy. Fuck him for doing this now.

Why would you fall into the unknown for him, if you never knew whether he would catch you? If you never knew whether ruin or safety awaited you if you let yourself tip? He always held back.

What the fuck were you expecting?

Your words linger in the space between you, and in lieu of any other lifeline, realisation dawns on Santi’s face. Realisation that, although he jumped, you are not intending to catch him either. But how could you catch him, with your arms already full?

And, so, he slowly nods his head once again, his eyes beading with glassy tears and his hand grazing over his chin in a self-soothing gesture. Wordlessly, he sets his jaw and he abruptly replaces his baseball cap on his head, padding a few steps forward to stand opposite you, sucking all of the breath from your lungs. This time, when he looks at you, you see all of your past, but you still can’t see beyond that. The abyss still scares you too much.

Like this, facing each other down, eye-to-eye, the silence in the room grows sharp as a knife, refined to a point. So, when Santi abruptly turns to leave in a sharp, determined trajectory, without so much as looking at you, it is as if he has dragged the blade across your skin in an equally swift motion. As if he has left you open and bleeding-out, having delivered a mortal wound with the act of his exit. You’ve felt like this on the battelfield before, and in life, yet he was always there for you. Always there to patch you. To pick up the pieces.

Instead of screaming open-mouthed for help, this time, you simply watch him go, and now you are the wordless one, mustering nothing but a gasped inhale of breath before your vision blurs with tears - as you watch his hazy form disappear along the hall and out of your sight.

“Santi,” you call pathetically, your voice small and weak and teary, barely making it past your throat, and he doesn’t hear you. He doesn’t hear you but even if he had, you’re not sure anymore if he would have stopped.

When Santi slams the front door behind him, you shudder with it in its frame, your hand coming to your chest as if to hold your heart inside your opened-up ribs, and you close your eyes against the jarring sound, tears spilling down your cheeks, your face screwing-up into a shined, contorted grimace.

Entirely lost, now alone, you bizarrely wish for the room to be filled with anger again, instead of the intolerable sadness - which all too suddenly takes hold of you as your emotions crest and break. It is all you can do to stumble forward a few paces and hunch over the countertop, finding yourself in the exact position you had discovered Santi in. You stand, bracing yourself with your arms, fingers clutching the edge of the worktop, and your head slumped forward, tears freely spilling out of you as your chest heaves.

You wonder whether he’d held himself in this same position because he had felt an intolerable sadness too. An intolerable sadness at seeing you happy.

Suddenly you could understand it.

That fucker. Santiago “Pope” Garcia.

I’m in love with you.

The words echo in your mind, but this time, if you’re honest, you’re not wholly sure if they’re his, or yours.

PART TWO IS HERE

#santiago pope garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia #santiago garcia x reader #triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #triple frontier fanfic

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soggy-platee · 3 years

Text

Doubt

Rating: M

Pairing: Din Djarin x gn!reader

Summary: You get hurt doing something stupid, Din has to confront his feelings for you.

Crossposted on ao3 here!

This was bad. Like, bad bad. You had gotten into fights before, of course, been roughed up more times than you could count. But previously, you had always been able to make it back to the Crest and hide the evidence before Mando got back. This time, however, you weren’t even sure if you would make it back to the Crest alone, much less heal yourself.

Tatooine, of all places, was where you were currently limping through, Mos Eisley to be more exact. Mando had stopped for repairs and you had made the usual excuse to get yourself out of mechanic-assistant duty, yelling something about supplies over your shoulder before hustling to the nearest cantina. Mando and you had been on countless missions over the years, sometimes staying and working together for months at a time. This current run was one of the longer ones, being on your third month-long job with the Mandalorian. Honestly, you had no idea why the hell he kept working with you. You were his total and utter opposite. All talkative and friendly, and a total ass most of the time. Your skills didn’t exactly make up for your personality either, you were a half-decent hunter at best. You liked to think it was because you always filled the silence of the old ass ship he insisted on using.

You had a feeling that if he found out the stupid shit you were always getting into, it might be your last time with him. It was some fucking dumb wager you made, betting on a brawl you knew nothing about. Somehow you won, and that seemed to piss a lot of people off. You had managed to fight most of them off, everyone underestimated you at first because of your small stature. But that element of surprise only lasts so long, and there were just too many of them this time. A slash to your thigh with a rusty knife took you to one knee before a first connected with your temple, sending you sprawling on the dusty floor. After that, it had been a flurry of hits and kicks before the owner chased them off. You had lain there for a while, trying to regain some sense of up and down through your obvious concussion. When you finally lifted yourself to your knees, the only thing that was clear in your mind was the idea of Mando seeing you like this, realizing how reckless and useless you really were. That’s why you were so desperate to get back and cover the evidence. As much as you hated to admit it, you liked working with him, loved it really. It had nothing to do with the little crush you had been harboring on the metal man, you often told yourself.

The port coming into view shook you from your thoughts. No sign of the Mandalorian yet. You tried to hurry, but the deep cut on your thigh stung in protest. You tried to walk as smoothly as possible, the last thing you needed was some other low-life on this dump planet to try to rob you in your weakened state. The high walls of the building loomed over you, casting you in shadow as you moved through the entrance. You moved as silently as you could, listening for the slightest movement to indicate the presence of your partner. The place was silent besides the small tinkering of the pit droids in some corner. You grimaced to yourself, at least this was working out for you .

You limped up the ramp into the dark hold. Making your way to your bunk, you fumbled around in the darkness for your own little stash of medical supplies. You only ever took from your personal stuff; the last thing you needed was being caught because Mando noticed his shit was missing. He had enough of his own wounds to worry about. You precariously gathered all your things into one hand, the other holding your upright. A bacta shot slipped, clinking loudly on the floor as a wave of dizziness came over you. Your hand immediately shot to the wound on your thigh.

Fuck , that was way more blood than you thought. You dipped down to grab the shot, the same dizziness doubling with the movement. Finally, after a few seconds of fumbling, your bloody hand found the cold tube. At the same time your fingers closed around the object, the cockpit door slide open with a metallic hiss. Your head shot up to the sound only to find the large outline of Mando hovering over you in the doorway. He was silent as were you, caught in a contest in the near-darkness of the hold. You swallowed hard. He was usually quiet, but this time, you could feel the anger radiating off him in waves.

Finally, he moved, hitting the first rung and the second before leaping down with a resounding thud . The moment he landed you shot up as fast as your injured state could allow. You both rose straight in tandem. He was directly in front of you, making your height difference more than noticeable. It made you feel even worse, even more, insignificant compared to the warrior in front of you. It was still too dark to make out his features, or lack thereof, but you could hear the creak of his leather gloves as his gloves clenched and unclenched.

Holy shit, he was pissed.

Your mind was racing, maybe you could still get out of this. Apologize like crazy, get out of his sight before he could realize just how bad you had fucked up, how hurt you were. You just hoped to God that he wasn’t using any special settings in his helmet to see you in the dark.

Finally, the damn broke.

“What the fuck did you think you were doing?”

Your brain went into overdrive, getting ready every half-assed excuse you could. Before you could get a word out, he trampled over you nearly shouting, “You were gone for an hour , and now the whole fucking town is talking about the brawl that you were at the center of? Over a fucking bet ? How reckless can you -”

Your anger grew as he grew louder, words getting harsher. Who the hell did he think he was? Yeah, yeah you fucked up, but he wasn’t your fucking dad. W hy did he get a say in what you did anyway?

“Sorry, we can’t all be as fucking upstanding as you, okay? I was blowing off a little steam, Jesus , it’s not that big of a deal…”

You could hear his surprised grunt under your tirade, actually physically moving away an inch at your verble assault. He recovered quickly though, leaning back toward you, leaving only inches between you as he growled, “ Not a big deal ? You know what kind of people are on this fucking planet, how much trouble you could get into?”

You paused, confused. Wait, was he mad at you because you got into trouble or because you could get into more?

Your pause made him continue, lecturing you firmly about how reckless and stupid your actions were. You just took it, hoping he would give up soon and leave you alone. He would have to quit soon if there was any hope of still hiding your injuries from him, you were growing fainter by the second, all previous anger seeping out along with your strength. The blood from your leg had to be pooling onto the floor by now.

There was a break in his speech, so you interjected in a feeble attempt to end the conversation. “ I’m sorry... I get it. I was wrong.” you practically whispered.

“You’re sorry ? I don’t-”

Suddenly, the ship was filled with an overwhelming light. You lifted a hand to shield your eyes, shoulders hunching as the light hit your face. Mando spun in comparison, stance low as he searched for an assault. After a moment, you both realized that the floodlights of the hanger had come on, compensating for the now-low light of sunset outside. In the same second, you realized what Mando would turn to see. You tried to hide, pulling your injured thigh as far back as you could without falling over. But it was no fucking use, bruises smattered your face and arm, dried blood leaving a trail from your brow-

He turned, freezing once his visor met your pained expression. He stood still for a moment and you started with your excuse, “Listen, it’s not as bad as it looks. I can do it myself if you just-”

He was on you a second, grabbing you by the shoulders and pushing you back to sit on the lip of your bunk. You were shocked as you were sat down, he hardly ever touched you, let alone with the firmness and caring that he was using now. His hands moved to cup your face, turning it back and forth, taking in the damage. You braced for a lashing.

Instead, his voice was deadly low when he asked, “Who did this?”

You jerked in his grip, “What?”

He gripped your face tighter, thumb brushing over your cheek before repeating, “ Who did this ? Just give me a name and they’re fucking dead.”

Your dumbfounded expression was reflected in his visor. Wasn’t he just mad at you?

“I’m- I’m sorry. I shouldn't have reacted like that. I didn’t know you were...hurt.”

Whoops, you didn’t mean to say that out loud.

His hands probed their way from your temples down your body, noting every bruise and mark. Finally, he reached the cut on your leg, hissing through his modulator as he felt the sticky fabric around the opening.

He sighed your name as he took in the extent of the damage, “God this is- Why didn’t you tell me ?”

You shifted nervously on your bunk, you couldn’t tell him the truth. It was lame, it was weird . It would freak him out, how much you wanted to stay with him.

I’m so desperate to stay with you I’d rather bleed out than tell you I fucked up.

Yeah, that would go over well.

So you simply acted aloof, hoping to God that he would buy it. As he continued to inspect you leg, you plastered a fake grin on your face and spoke down to him, “Come on Mando, you don’t think that I can handle some cuts myself?

His helmet shot up to your face so fast your expression faltered, giving way to wide eyes and parted lips. He seemed pleased with himself at breaking your facade, grunting in approval as he returned his attention downward.

The both of you were silent as he dug his hand through the medical supplies you had retrieved initially. He started at the cut, snipping away the fabric with careful precision. You had a death grip on his shoulder while he cleaned and cauterized the ugly thing. He kept checking with you, breaking every few minutes with “Are you okay?” , “You’re doing great” , and “Almost done, just hang on.”

What the hell did you do to deserve this, all his devastating kindness?

When he moved to the cuts on your head, you were totally unable to keep your face neutral. Your eyes were saucers, desperately trying to burn this image into your memory. His soft gloves brushing your hair away, helmet titled in concentration. As he cleaned the various areas, one hand soon came to rest on your hip lightly, helping him maintain his crouched position. You couldn’t help the soft smile that overtook your features. You doubted he even knew what he was doing, doubt he knew just what the hand was doing to you.

The pain was getting to you now. Through the bliss of Mando’s hands on you and the numbness of the blood loss, each breath shot stabbing pains through your body. You tried your best to be quiet, accept his treatment without any fuss, but as he reached on a particularly bad cut just above your brow, a whimper of pain slipped from your pursed lips. He pulled back instantly, visor pointing to your eyes. You gave him a tight smile in return, grunting, “I’m good. Keep going.”

He sighed, weighing your words, then slowly returned to his task. God, it felt like molten lava on you, every brush of the cloth made you impossibly tense. No doubt Mando felt you tighten under his grip as he spoke, “What can I do?”

You didn’t even think before you responded through clenched teeth, “ Just talk ...please.”

To his credit, he didn’t laugh at your request. Didn’t even hesitate in fact. He just started talking, to your amazement.

“You know, I was fucking pissed when I was in town and heard you had gotten into that fight... God , I was fucking angry with you…”

You winced at his words, even though you knew the sentiment was well deserved.

“But then I was scared. You could’ve...I was scared you were hurt. I started toward the cantina to find you before, before-I just kept picturing you hurt and it scared the shit out of me.”

You didn’t know what to say, silence falling over the hull once more as you fell short. He had to be kidding, just something to keep you occupied.

You knew that was wrong, as his hand had fallen from your face long ago. It wasn’t a distraction, it was a confession. You should be overjoyed, it was absolutely everything you ever wanted to hear from him. So why weren’t you?

Your brain couldn’t process why, so your mouth took charge, words tumbling from your mouth in a desperate attempt to understand.

“But I didn’t-that was all my fault . I was stupid, reckless , you said it yourself. You shouldn’t- I don’t want you worrying about me over that shit. I fucked up, I fucked up big and -”

He cut you off with a squeeze of your hip, skating his helmet back and forth to your confusion.

“I was just scared and I took it out on you...I’m sorry for that. I don’t like that you think that way. I don’t want- ” he took a breath, collecting himself by ducking his helmet down before returning to face you.

“What I am trying to say is that I don’t care what you did, I just want you safe.”

Tears pooled in the corner of your eyes, all the stress of the say leaving you all at once as you sagged forward, head dropping. You were overwhelmed, but happy. So fucking happy. Everything had just fallen into place and you just couldn’t hold it in.

Mando, unfortunately, took your actions to be ones of injury, as he quickly moved one hand to your jaw, fingers wrapping around your chin tightly forcing you to face him. A tear fell off your nose onto his glove, making a pleasant plopping noise.

He spoke hurriedly, “Hey-hey look at me. What is it? Something hurt?”

You grinned in his grip and grabbed him by his ammo sling. Pulling him close, you leaned forward and rested your forehead against the cool metal of his helmet as he let out a grunt of surprise.

You were both silent for a moment, breathing in tandem before his hand left your chin and came to rest in your hair.

“Not hurt, then?” he guesses. You can hear the smile in his voice.

“No, not hurt.” you choke out around your tears.

Another beat of silence, then, “Wanna tell me why you’re crying?”

You let out a quick laugh at his tone, it was interesting to hear the Mandalorian so hesitant.

You sighed, then said, “I was so worried when I got back here. I thought that, if you saw what I got myself into, you- well, that you wouldn’t... want me anymore.”

His hand gripped tighter in your hair, pressing his helmet more firmly into you. “ Nothing could make that happen. You hear me? Nothing .”

You brought your hand to his still on your hip, gripping it softly. “ I hear you .”

#the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x you #pedro pascal #din djarin

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kariachi · 2 years

Text

Was supposed to be emergency fic, but fuck it I wanna post.

Some Osmobeast type fic, flashed forward about a decade.

Kevin didn’t even bother excusing himself before he answered his phone, just putting up a hand and turning to the side. Gwendolyn took this rather well, merely crossing her arms and shaking her head with a smirk, not that Kevin paid any mind to her. Why would he, when he hadn’t even let the phone ring more than a second before leaping into action.

“Babe, everything okay?” Which of course had nothing at all to do with this being the first time he’d been more than sixty feet from Devlin, none at all.

“Yeah, we’re fine.” Gar sounded tense, which did nothing to help the twist of worry that’d been sitting in his gut since he’d headed out. But he could hear happy, vaguely Vulpimancery baby noises in the background, which did help and also was more surprising than it probably should’ve been. “How many shapes do you have? Because I haven’t seen this one before.”

“I have, way too many.” It was true. Across the table Gwendolyn gave him a curious look and he mouthed ‘forms’ back, prompting a quick grimace and a nod. “He giving you trouble? I can come back?”

“No,” Gar replied with a bit more firmness than Kevin felt was necessary, “you are getting a break and I’m getting some alone time with my son. Though he did set the laundry hamper on fire-” Kevin’s heart stopped “-nobody got hurt, it’s fine, I put it out, everything’s okay-” and started back up again “- but I’m gonna need you to grab a new hamper on the way home.”

“I can do that.” Clearly his reaction had shown, because Gwendolyn had leaned forward with her own look of concern. He flashed an ‘ok’ sign and she breathed a sigh of relief. “Anything else we need while I’m out?”

“Hm… sweetheart, Daddy would like to keep his ear, thanks… I have no idea what sort’ve diapers we’re going to need if he’s going to be shapeshifting now, but I do know we’re low on toilet paper.” Kevin chuckled fondly and nodded.

“I’ll see what I can find,” he said. “So, you get any pictures for me?” He was ninety-percent certain what shape they were dealing with, between the fire and the pup noises, but still, this was a milestone. Pictures were necessary. There was a pause on the other end of the line.

“Fuck.” Kevin snickered, Gwendolyn following quickly after in commiseration. “I didn’t even think, between the fire and telling you- I’ll get you a few right now.”

“Fantastic. I’ll leave you guys to it then?”

“Yeah… Say bye to your Papa?...” Gar’s voice faded slightly on the last line, replaced with familiar baby babble and the slight whistle of gills.

“Love you, kiddo. I’ll be home soon,” Kevin cooed, heroically resisting the urge to abandon his friend and his coffee in favor of being home immediately. He had multiple options for superspeed, it was a near thing. But he stood firm and quickly Gar’s fond chuckle came back on the line. “Give me like, an hour and a half. If I’m not home then, send out the St Bernards.”

“Okay,” Gar said, laughing harder, “I’ll have pictures out to you in a few minutes. Love you.”

“Love you too, babe. Bye.”

“Bye.” With a beep the call ended and Kevin dropped his phone onto the table, meeting Gwendolyn’s amused smirk with a smile.

“So,” she said, “chaos at home?”

“Yeeep.” Kevin took a sip of his coffee. Still warmish, but it was going to have to go into the microwave here in a few minutes. “Devlin set a hamper on fire. My mom is going to feel so vindicated.” Gwendolyn snorted.

“Because what she needed was an ego boost.”

“Gar thought she was exaggerating my escapades as a chick,” he specified with a shrug. “The ‘I warned you’s are gonna be real.” Heaving a sigh, Gwendolyn shook her head.

“And still it’s better than how Mom treats Raven.” This time Kevin snorted.

“That’s because your mom only barely hates her less than she did me. Mom likes Gar.”

“Probably because Raven doesn’t deliberately antagonize her. And I still can’t believe he managed to get full family approval.”

“What can I say, he’s better than you in every conceivable way. Plus, I’ve heard a few people over the years describe him as reminding them of my dad if he’d had an ounce of athleticism and more than cotton candy between his ears.” Ignoring the raspberry Gwendolyn blew him at the first statement, Kevin took another long draw of his coffee. Maybe if he went through it fast enough he could just get a refill. “Also your mom totally deserved everything I did.”

“You managed to adhere her and Daddy’s dresser to the ceiling.”

“And she never talked shit about psychics in front of me again.” Gwendolyn shook her head again with a huff, but whatever she may have said in response was interrupted by Kevin’s phone going off again and being quickly snatched back up.

His smile, and eventually grin, widened with every image that popped up on the screen. He’d been right, Devlin was in a tiny mirror of his first chimeric form and managing to make it absolutely adorable (he thought, as someone with no existing biases-). There were a few of Devlin sat on the couch, tail helping him stay upright, reaching out for, presumably, Gar, and one selfie taken by said wonderful husband of his with Devlin in his lap. That one managed to pull the most adoring whine out of Kevin that he’d made in at least a month.

“Casual reminder- I have the best family,” he said, holding the phone out for Gwendolyn to take a look. Any pre-existing annoyance was clearly lost as she smiled as well, shaking her head with a fond chuckle.

“Well, if there was any doubt he’s yours,” she said as Kevin pulled it away to take another long, loving look.

“Remind me to have this printed and framed.”

#fanfic #been sitting on the cute too long

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mcu-fan-fics-blog · 3 years

Text

The Helping Hand

Summary: Y/N Krast Illegitimate Daughter of Tony Stark. Product of an unwanted teen pregnancy. What would Howard Stark be capable of doing to assure his sons future? What will happen when Tony meets our Beautiful, young, genius, rich philanthropist.

Word Count: 2000 approx

A/n: I will try to finish part 2 during the week maybe Wednesday or Thursday. I did change what happens in the movie but it will call make sense I promise. See you soon!

Tw: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Drug use, Drug addiction, Teen Pregnancy. (If there are any I missed please tell me.)

Ch.8

Chapter 9: Civil War Pt.1

Ch.10

Secretary Ross what a bitch. I mean you save the world you'd expect a thanks maybe a parade or something, but no. Instead they ask you to legally give up your rights, your anonymity basically all you value. "We can't seriously consider signing this." Steve spat out. "You're being Hyper nonverbal." Nat points tony out. "That's because he's already decided." Steve points out calmly. "I can't sign… I won't sign the accords." You mutter out quietly. "I'm not even an official part of the 'team'. I don't even have a hero name." Pietro chuckles giving you an approving nod.

Nat brings you and Pietro back to reality. "You were still there." She points out matter of factly. "Either way that does not change that we have made some very public mistakes." She continues. "We need to be put in check." Tony states. "If we don't do it now they will do it to us later and they won't be asking nicely." He says. "I agree it's better to keep one hand on the wheel, than letting go completely." You're honestly not listening at this point anymore. You jump back in after Visions statistics. "My friends are dead because of you." You point out.

"You blame Wanda for an accident. When I saw your effect on Sokovia way before you blew it up." You mention spitefully. "If you want to sign because you feel guilty go ahead. I'm not being forced into this..." Tony sighs hurt by your comments' brutal honesty. "I'm just trying to protect Wanda." He says looking at you. "Too little too late… where were you when she was in Lagos." This is when Wanda steps in. "Just calm down okay… Just- lets just hear him out." She says looking at you. "Either we have her here with her brother or they become government property." He continues. "You can't just not sign… think about everything you'll lose." Steve jumps in again. "If we sign, we lose our chance to choose. We work under our own authority now, but people have agendas and you know that better than anyone." Steve points out.

Tony and Steve go at it for a minute when he abruptly leaves. Soon you find out why… Peggy passed. You and Nat flew out to be with him for a moment. After which he told you he was not signing the accords. "Wish you the best Captain Rogers." Is what you said. You hesitated but pulled him into a hug. "If you ever need anything talk to me… I'll do my best to help you out." You tell him and he hugs you back. Nat convinced you to fly to Vienna with her and sign the accords there. So you did and regretted it not long after you arrived. It was a complete bore fest. You let Nat do her own thing and you just walked around like a lost puppy until something called your attention. You rush back to her immediately. "Nat, something's wrong, something is very wrong." You repeat then you look out the window confirming your theory. "EVERYBODY GET DOWN" you yell as you leap on Natasha. She's about to reprimand you for causing a scene when the whole building shakes.

It was a blur and everything hurts. You stand up and all you can hear is ringing and a faint voice. As you stand you hear your name faintly Natasha is calling you but there's something else. Your head begins to throb. The voice it's clear now. It's repeating words. "Zhelanie, rzhavyy, Semndtsat', Rassvet, Pech', Devgat', Dobroserdechnyy, Vozvrashcheniye na rodinu, Odin', Gruzovoy Vagon." You grab your head to try and steady yourself. But the voice gets louder and then you recognize it. "Don't believe what you see… dig deeper Y/n. It wasn't him." Then you're pulled out of your daze by Nat standing before you. "Y/n are you okay?" She asks worried. You only nod turning your head and noticing that somehow you made your way outside. "I umm- I need you to call tony and tell him it happened again." You say calmly she nods and takes off to make the call. As she did that you called Steve. "Yes, Steve I'm fine we're fine… but you need to listen to me."

He was scared and the news spread like wildfire. "It wasn't him… Steve it wasn't him." He's quiet. "How do you know?" You sigh. "I just do Steve okay. I believe in you alright. But you can't look for him. If you find him the rest will find him. Keep your distance a week two tops just listen to me please." You plead with him he eventually sighs. "I'm trusting you Y/n" you sigh in relief. You hang up when Nat begins to walk back to you. "Tony is sending a Plane." She mentions looking around them fixing her sight on you. "How did you know something was going to happen?" Her voice nearly a whisper. You shake your head. "Y/n you told me something was wrong very wrong at least 30 seconds before the bombs went off."

"I-i don't know Nat something felt wrong… off then I looked out the window." You say trying to piece together your thoughts. "Lets go… let me drop you off at the airport." She says helping you up. The drive was quiet and uncomfortable. She wasn't sure she believed you, she saw that you called someone. Her walls were up and your answers were not helping that. She helped you board the plane and said her goodbyes and walked out. The ride was quiet what you wanted. But those words kept circling your mind. You couldn't have heard them more than three times but they were burnt into your mind. Vision and then twins were waiting for you when you landed. "Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner will not get here in a couple of days." You nod taking your time getting off.

"Are you okay?" Pietro asks when you trip down the last step. You shake your head. "I'm just tired, plus it's not everyday that you live through an explosion." You chuckle. "I just need some rest." You finish. Your sleep was not as peaceful as you'd like. Your head kept going back to that state of limbo the same words repeating over and over again. In the morning you're feeling well enough and make your way down to the kitchen. You weren't surprised when you found the Maximoff twins already up and going. "Good morning" you say as you walk up to them noticing Vision floating in a corner. "Good morning do you feel better?" Wanda asks as she flips a pancake. You nod watching Pietro chop vegetables extremely fast. Wanda clears her throat catching your attention. "Your thoughts were very loud last night…"

"Oh my Wanda I am so sorry if I kept you up." You begin apologizing but she cuts you short. "It's fine I only brought it up because I can hear them… they are there, but I can read them?" She says questioning whether or not you understood. You nod. "Did it happen again?" She asks, worry filling her eyes. "I-i don't know how to explain it. Yesterday I felt something was off. I heard a voice after the explosion." You mention trying to wrap your head around the situation. "It was repeating these words. I can't stop thinking about them." You finish off. She gives you a confused look. "Bruce said it's kinda like the green guy… It keeps me alive."

"Is that why I can't read you anymore?" She blurts out. "I don't know probably." You shrug. "Nat, she doesn't believe me… I saw it in her eyes." You mention quietly. Pietro rushes over to you and puts his arm around you, messing with your hair. "Well we believe you, isn't that right?" He looks at Wanda and she nods. He has to throw a piece of fruit at Vision. "Yes, I think there is something to your condition." He mentions a smile growing on his face… Or what you think he thinks is a smile. It causes everyone to break out into laughter. After that you and the twins have a nice couple of days hanging out and living in some type of normalcy. You would watch the Dik Van Dyke show and Bewitched per Wanda's request and then one night something was off again. "Wanda… something's off. It's different." Is the last thing you manage to say before Vision rushes over to your side. This time the threat was internal… your heart.

"Y/n to my understanding your heart is going into cardiac arrest. Stop fighting your mind, it will protect you." He mentions. You clutch your chest and let your mind loose. "Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner have been informed and will be here soo…'' is all your hear before you black out. You're in and put at one point you think you see Bruce but you're not sure. Then you're back in that white tundra and she's there waiting for you with a warm smile on her face. "Why do we keep meeting like this?" You ask as you run towards her. "It's you…" Is all she says hugging you. "Yes, who else would it be." You say playfully. She chuckles but she shakes her head. "It's you we meet on your terms. You only let me in when your guard is down." She steps back. "Are your okay?" She asks cautiously. "I really hope so." You say honestly taking a seat on the floor. "That's not what I meant… I-i um I had to give you a push in Vienna." She sits next to you. "That was you! Of course that makes sense. What do they mean." She smiles. "You'll figure it out… I know you will." She says again and you lay your head on her lap. She runs her fingers through your hair humming. "How long can I stay here with you like this?" You ask with your eyes closed. "As long as your want monkey."

"Where is she, is she okay? What the hell happened?" Tony burst into the compound the anger masking how scared he was. "Dr. Cho is in there right now and she's stable. She's almost done. Dr. Banner is assisting" Vision answers Tony calms down slightly turning to the twins. "What the hell happened?" They both shrug and Pietro speaks up. "You should ask her." He says his head nodding towards Nat. Tony makes a double take when Steve and Sam walk out behind her. Natasha walks up to them "What happened?" Tony only signs "That seems to be the Billion Dollar question." Wanda jumps back in. "She said something was off… something happened in Vienna." Now Pietro get defensive and jumps in to back his sister. "She said you didn't believe her." Tony turns to Nat. "Did she tell you this?"

"What was I supposed to believe Tony… she knew a building was going to explode before it did." Tony is now pacing. "She told you something was wrong… MY DAUGHTER told you something was wrong, that something was wrong with her. And you didn't think to tell me!" Natasha is left speechless and so is everyone else. That's when Dr. Cho walks back into the waiting room. "The surgery was a success and we replaced the damaged heart. She should wake up in a couple of hours depending as their medications wear off." She says not noticing the tension. Tony sighs in relief and Dr. Cho walks off. Tony points at Natasha. "You will stay away from her agent Romanoff." With that he walks off.

It had been more than a few hours. It had been days and you hadn't woken up. "What is happening to her?" Tony hadn't left your side. Everyone had stopped by everyday their hopes diminished. Bruce calls him over and makes him take a seat. "Tony we have to wake her up soon!" He nods. "Of course we do!" He says looking at Bruce shake his head. "Her medical directives legally bind us to remove all life sustaining measures after two weeks."

#avengers #marvel #natasha romanoff #natasha x y/n #pietro maximoff #tony stark #wanda x reader #fanfic #reader x avengers #wanda maximoff #bucky barnes #civil war #captain america #chapter 9 #vision #tony x pepper #tony stank #howard stark #helmut zemo

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where-dreamers-go · 3 years

Note

I’d love a platonic Boba Fett x Mandalorian! reader where reader worked with the clones as a kid, so she got really good at telling them apart by the tiniest details! So when he meets her on a hunt or something she recognizes him immediately and they catch up over a meal. Then they maybe finish the hunt together or just just talk about fights they’ve been in? Thank you dear!!

“Reunion” Boba Fett x Mandalorian!Reader

(A/N: Requested by the awesome @the-and-sign-anon.

Here’s some platonic Boba Fett fanfiction for yah! I feel like this has taken me a year to do, but it hasn’t, obviously. I just want it to be cool. I hope you like it! This is my first time writing for Boba Fett.

Aliit - family

Beskar’gam - armor

Buir - father

Vod - brother

Warnings: Canon violence (blasters). Death (no details).

Word Count: 1,445 words)

Late afternoon on an Outer Rim planet was not out of the norm for you. The system’s small sun casted long shadows behind the roughly structured buildings. A coolness crept into the air as evening grew near.

Perched atop of a well used cantina, you awaited a clearing near your intended location across the main square. You preferred less attention where you were going. The less people at small tucked-away building’s entrance the better.

It should not be much longer, you thought.

Earlier in the day, you had staked out the surroundings and where exactly you were to get the object. The bounty of the hunt. Was the objected named by the one who hired you? No, they had only told you who had it and where. Then added that it was valuable and quite decorative.

Helpful, you mused sarcastically.

Standing up, you decided that you would make it the right time to grab what you needed. The shortcut route would be best. Not the fastest way per se, but more your style. Rooftops were fine walkways in their own right. You were more interested in keeping the high ground. Only being in the area for less than twenty-four hours was a semi-followed rule of yours. Plus there were sightings of other bounty hunters.

It was prime opportunity to get the object of the bounty and leave. No more further delays.

Armor glinting in the sunlight, you kept your shadow hidden within the growing darkness cast by buildings and their antennae.

Three buildings and clothesline away from the unguarded door, you paused.

A bounty hunter.

You knew of course that there were others hired to grab the same object, however the one that caught you eye did not tickle your fancy nor did you care for their style. Too flashy with his large weaponry and inflated attitude. He was strutting a little too close to the door of your objective. Not to forget he was causing more trouble than needed. Pushing citizens around physically and verbally was unnecessary.

Can easily get passed him while he’s occupied. You thought, boot pointed in the direction of a small balcony below. Just—

Green paint grabbed your full attention. A very specific colored Beskar’gam in the next structure over. The sight of the colors and their arrangement lead you into a pursuit. The Mandalorian was steadily leaving a building. Closer. A small dent on his helmet.

You smiled, your thoughts on the bounty pushed aside.

Time to say ‘hello’, you thought as you leaped down into the dusty path.

A blaster was already lowering from its aim as you rose to your full height, meaning he recognized you.

The Mandalorian’s stance was slightly relaxed yet bent and ready to move. There were a few moments of long silence. Two Mandalorians watching one another.

“Are you just gonna stand there quietly?” A modulated male voice spoke from the green helmet. An accent in his voice pulled the air from your lungs. The familiarity striking and comforting.

“I wanted to give dramatic effect.” You said as you lifted one of your blaster pistols.

“Not sure your knees will approve.”

“Probably not.”

The grin you held disappeared as someone rounded the corner. A tall weapon in their hand. The bounty hunter you had spotted before. Not a well known one, you had not heard much of him. Only disliked any time you crossed paths, however briefly.

“Two Mandalorians? What…are you two after the bounty?” He laughed. “Why don’t you go shine your armor.” With loud steps, he walked closer. “Something you’re good at, right?”

That one’s unreasonable, you thought.

“If you’re after the bounty, why stop and chat?” You asked.

“What are you gonna do about it?” They clicked their tongue. “I’m going to get it anyway. Can’t have dusty troopers in my light.” A gloved finger edged to the trigger of his weapon as he continued forward. “Rona Olien. I’m that good.”

You and Boba turned your helmets to face one another. A silent conversation and decision transpired.

click

You charged forward in a crouch as the first round of blaster fire came from the bounty hunter’s modified weapon. The blasts stopped as the bounty hunter, Olien, staggered back as a blasterbolt hit them in the shoulder. Boba’s doing. Using the blunt end of your blaster pistol, you hit the side of the man’s head. The bounty hunter landed on the ground in a heap, groaning.

Walking up beside you, Boba kicked the large weapon out from Olien’s grip.

“If you’re going to shoot a Mandalorian, next time have better aim,” said Boba.

The two of you started walking away from the man. That was until a laser fire hit the wall of a building beside you.

In a flash of color, Boba had angled in a twist and had fired his blaster.

thump

“They were quite rude,” you said as Boba turned back to you.

“No honor.” Your brother lowered his weapon and walked with you to the destination.

It did not take long for the both of you to enter the building and find what you were after. A little digging and Boba had it in his grasp.

“A vase?” You tilted your helmet-protected head.

“An expensive vase.” Boba clarified. Rotating the piece, he examined it.

“Is it more or less than the job?”

“A bit more. Not by much.”

“Is it enough for you?”

His green and silver helmet turned in your direction. “It’s enough that we can split the difference for the job. And don’t tell me you don’t need it.”

You raised your hands in mock defense.

“Come on,” Boba turned on his heel. “They can wait one more day for their vase.”

His words surprised you. Yet you knew deep down that family meant a great deal more to him than a job.

You and your brother walked to a decent hotel and rented a room for the night; after grabbing some food of course. Neither of you wanted to part ways immediately. Besides, communicating via two separate ships was not an ideal way of spending time with family you had not seen in years.

Once in the quiet and privacy of the room, you relaxed. The food, vase, and weapons were put aside.

“It’s good to see you, vod.” You walked up to one another and inclined your helmets together.

“I’ve missed you.” Boba took a step back. “There’s a dent in your shoulder piece.”

“I know,” you groaned. “Too bad it wasn’t on my helmet then we’d match.”

“Hardly.”

You shook your head, smiling. There were more scuff marks on his armor than you remembered. Then again, so did yours. You had not seen one another in more than two years. Taking different opportunities tended to do that.

Living in an Empire was much different than whatever it really was when you were younger. You and Boba practically grew up together on Kamino. A rainy world where all you two saw was the insides of the cloning facility. The three of you, your shared father included, stayed there together. Jango Fett, your buir, had found you on a battle-worn world and brought you into the aliit, family, where Boba was your constant companion. A vod who was your only aliit after the battle on Geonosis.

Lives could always change so suddenly. Ones who lived together and depended on one another could find themselves on opposite ends of the galaxy.

Comfortable where you were, you started removing your armor and setting it down in your preferred arrangement. It was strange to have your helmet off while in the presence of another, however your vod was a major exception. The was a freedom to it all, the familiarity and the opportunity to just be yourself with on you trusted.

“That guy from earlier…,” you started as you yanked off your boots. “Have you seen him before?”

“Once or twice. He’s sloppy.”

“And had an ego the size of a rancor’s butt.”

He chuckled at your comment.

“Tomorrow,” you sat back in your seat, “I think you should give them the vase. Just in case they think of shortening you credits because I’m with you.”

“Changing subjects fast….They wouldn’t dare.”

“Just in case. Plus the whole bounty hunter image…”

He scoffed. “You’re my aliit.” Sighing, he nodded. “Fine.”

“Now that’s settled.” You grabbed the food and brought it closer. “Let’s eat.”

And eat, you did. Lounging about, the two of you talked and joked about the past. Catching up was half the fun. Making new memories was even better.

“I really have missed you, Boba.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

~~~

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