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zillychu · 4 months

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I’ve gotten a WAVE of asks about this AU, so I decided to flesh it out some more and answer some of those questions!

I’ll probably polish this extended summary up at some point and submit it to AO3. But for now, here’s a rundown of my thoughts–please feel free to send more questions! I’ll update this post if I get any more. But if you’re someone who wanted to write fic for it, don’t worry, you don’t need to take my headcanons as gospel. It’s a pretty basic AU honestly lol

Summary:

The portal accident results in a violent explosion that wipes out the whole block, and condemns all of Amity Park. Danny haunts the city for 100 years, before Sam and Tucker find him.

Setup:

In the 1920’s, 19-year-old Danny went into the incomplete portal on his own, hoping to help out his parents. Ripping the portal open through unnatural means created a huge burst of energy that resulted in a massive explosion. A good portion of the Amity Park population died, many were injured, and the ones on the fringes relocated–Amity was quickly deemed too dangerous due to the excess ectoplasm in the area that attracted ghosts.

While the disaster was in Amity, the fallout was seen around the globe. Before, natural portals were rare, short-lived, and rarely allowed ghosts to fully slip into our realm (the most severe cases being on par with poltergeists that most people didn’t believe in). Now, natural portals pop open frequently around the world, large enough to allow the entirety of a ghost into the physical plane. They’re more common the closer you get to Amity, but they happen enough elsewhere that this change was something of a small apocalypse before people settled back down and found out how to combat at least some of their new, permanent neighbors.

Danny is unaware that he’s only half-dead, believing he’s a full ghost. He ends up sticking around Amity, unintentionally making it his haunt. His grief and guilt over causing the death of his loved ones (and many others) makes him isolate and avoid human contact. Though he has, at times, scared nosy people away from the city in a mix of territorial instinct–and to get them to leave before a less friendly ghost finds them.

Ghosts are much more of an uncontested danger in this AU. Lesser ghosts are practically mindless, and while stronger ghosts are capable of reason, their interests are limited. They’re highly territorial, possessive, and often destructive. Most worrisome is that they also like to snack on the life force of anything alive. No one is sure what dictates a ghost’s propensity to attack or hunt the living for their life force since ghosts don’t exactly experience hunger. At least, not the way we do. If a human is rescued before their life force is fully drained, they can make a full recovery–though humanity has still not yet found what this “life force" is.

And since the Fentons’ research died along with them, there aren’t many tools available to the public to protect them from ghosts. Most homes have standard ghost shields and some weapons are available on the market, but certified ghost hunters are required to take care of anything more powerful than your average spook.

Sam and Tucker met in high school, and are now rooming together for college very close to the Amity border. Rent is surprisingly cheap when you’re a stone’s throw away from a condemned area crawling with ghosts. Sam is the one who drags Tucker along with her fascination over finding out more about the city, and its largely mysterious demise. Sam is aware of the danger, but feels ghosts have a place in this world just like everything else, and does exercise caution–like one would while foraging in the woods with a known tiger population.

What she and Tucker weren’t expecting was to run into a ghost that felt almost human. One that hasn't hurt them, not for lack of trying–while being powerful enough to walk past ghost shields without so much as a flinch. The long white hair is familiar in the whispers of the ectobiologist community, but there’s no way it could be the rumored ghost king Phantom, right?

About Danny:

He has very long hair, claws, and black sclera. His hazmat suit is more torn and ragged, with exposed hands and feet that fade into a burnt black.

His hair tends to float a lot on its own. It can start morphing into fire under duress.

He does still technically have gloves and boots, they've just charred and melted into his skin towards the ends. He can't take them off in his ghost form. His hands and feet have a leathery texture that's tougher than the rest of his skin.

The white of his hazmat suit is both supposed to look like flames, and also a battered look representing his more violent, explosive death.

Overall, he appears rather listless and sad, with an unnerving air of danger around him–even for a ghost.

Danny’s “ghost sense” comes out as white smoke.

He does breathe black smoke at times, usually when agitated.

He's already fought and defeated Pariah Dark by the time Sam and Tucker find him, technically making him the Ghost King. This is heavily speculated by ghost experts, despite there being no real proof beyond a massive battle that scarred Illinois. He has not donned the Ring or the Crown, and captured sentient ghosts are hesitant to answer questions surrounding him. Danny basically has the throne but doesn’t do anything with it, and finds it meaningless enough to routinely forget he has the title. He only fought Pariah because he knew otherwise, humanity would have perished. A lot of ghosts are scared of him because he's so hard to figure out, and he's strong.

Danny is usually very quiet and speaks softly, because his lungs were damaged in the blaze that half-killed him. He's technically healed since becoming a ghost, so it's more of a compulsion due to the traumatic memory. That, and he’s just… very forlorn and distant, shy around humans who don’t seem to understand how dangerous it is to keep hanging around him.

His memories pre-accident are extremely fuzzy. He knows the very basics of who he was, but specifics have been muffled due to trauma and isolation. He routinely forgets human habits, etiquette, etc. and tends to act more like a full ghost with some odd quirks.

He does try to scare Sam and Tucker off numerous times. Unfortunately for him, they realized they shouldn't have been able to escape a ghost that strong–but they did, because he let them.

Sam and Tucker think he's mute at first! He doesn't speak a word to them until several encounters later, when he fumbles his whole scary act and saves them from another ghost.

He’s still half-ghost, though he doesn’t figure this out until Sam and Tucker come along trying to unravel the mysteries behind the Amity catastrophe. Physically and emotionally, he’s been stuck for 100 years–so his human form is still 19. It’s unclear at this point if he can age normally like a human as long as he stays in human form, or if he’s immortal.

Danny's family did not turn into ghosts, though he sometimes worries he'll find them in the afterlife as shells of their former selves. He doesn't know if it's better or worse that he's not sure he'd recognize them.

(Danny also still has some living family. Take a guess.)

Yes, he knows how to Wail. Understandably, he very rarely uses it. You do not want to witness this.

Danny :) is not immune :) from the allure of eating a human's life force :)))

#danny phantom #au #zilly art #I just wanted to draw a boy with long hair and claws how did this happen #fire core au

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luveline · 7 months

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hi, i have a request for hotch if that's okay with you :)

when they're on the jet, yn is smiling a lot at her phone so the team starts to tease her because the think that she has a mysterious boyfriend. and she does, but he's sitting right next to her and he's also wondering who's making her smile like that since it's clearly not him

tysm!

Hotch is trying hard to award you your privacy, but your smile makes it difficult. You're actually squared away from him despite sitting in the seat beside him of your own free will, your phone to your chest, a huge smile curved across your cute mouth. 'Cute mouth', Hotch thinks to himself with derision. He's thoroughly whipped for you. It might not work out.

You've been secretive and strange on your phone for an hour now. With nothing left to do but wait for the jet to touch down, you can watch whatever or text whenever you want. Hotch just wishes it wasn't so distracting. Who are you texting? He feels ill.

"Who's that?"

The dam finally breaks. As soon as Morgan asks, Emily pipes up, "Yeah, who is it?" as Rossi laughs and declares, "I know that look. Young Y/N's in love."

You side eye Hotch. "Workplace harassment," you say.

"Who is it?" Hotch asks.

You gawp but laugh at his unprofessional questioning, pressing your phone screen tight to your chest. "Hotch, it's–"

"Your not-so-secret boyfriend? Come on, we all know you have one," Morgan says.

"I know you know, you're like sharks," you say, giving them all a great long look.

For weeks now, you've glowed. This overzealous smiling and laughing is the straw that breaks the camel's back. Your nosy coworkers can't hold back their curiosity any longer. Hotch was stupid enough to think that your secretive dates and nights spent curled in on one another might be the reason behind your new hopped up sprightliness, but apparently not.

"So you admit it!" Emily cheers.

"Maybe. But it's not what's happening on my phone."

"Well, what is it?" Spencer asks.

They've leaned in on you, a circle of eager faces. Your sudden decision to admit you —maybe— have a boyfriend is as much as anyone's gotten out of you in weeks. If anyone could tease the truth from you, of course it's Hotch, and so the team looks to their leader pleadingly.

He's not sure he wants to know. "They won't leave you alone otherwise," he says, hoping that his expression shows his leniency. Your secrets are your own if you want to keep them.

You smile at him. Again, he thinks you have a cute mouth, and that he's biassed but you definitely smile sweeter at him than anyone else. You and Hotch know something the others don't, amusement like light behind your irises. "I'll show you," you say smugly, "and only you, Hotch."

"Typical," Morgan murmurs, sitting back on the couch.

Hotch clenches his sweaty palms beneath the table. "Alright."

You lean in against his shoulder. Your phone turns on, and he's taking deep breaths as you click to your photo app, and then an album labelled with a simple, '<3'.

It's photos of him. Most he knows you took, sitting across from you in dark restaurants or kneeling in your apartment putting together a new set of drawers. Your giggles begin in earnest as you swipe through them to a more recent photograph. You couldn't have taken it more than a week ago, when he'd stayed the night with you by accident, too tired to leave. His face is slack in sleep. He realises it's a video when you click a button and the sound of crinkling fabric plays from your speaker. In the video, you unbutton the tight collar of his shirt, stroking his neck briefly with a loving knuckle. The video moves down to frame his arm, his hand clinging to your other one like a sucker.

Hotch looks up from the video and blinks at you. Your hand on his sleeping neck, the sound of your tired laughter —he can't not smile. "Oh. That's…"

"What did you show him?" Morgan asks, his voice coloured with both amusement and frustration. The team echo his question.

"I can't kiss and tell," you say, still tucked up by his side.

"I think it's best if you don't, L/N," Hotch agrees.

He'd lose all credibility.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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happy74827 · 6 months

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Chaos Theory

[Mike Schmidt x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: When Mike's crazy schedule finally aligns with one of the so-called "parental meetings" at Abby's school, he decides to see what it's all about. Little did he know he'd come to seriously regret that.

WC: 2,590

Category: Slight Fluff

I failed an exam today, so I wrote this to cheer myself up. I still feel pretty crappy, but this was really fun to write lol.

Also if you see any grammar mistakes, no you didn’t.

『••✎••』

When it came to Abby’s school, Mike was at a disadvantage. He couldn’t go to any of the parental meetings, not because he didn’t want to, but because he was constantly doing something work-related during the time those meetings were scheduled.

It didn’t mean he wasn’t keeping an eye on her grades and school attendance. It just meant he couldn't be there for the day-to-day things. Abby was a good kid, though; she never gave him trouble about the things he missed, and she did a pretty good job of keeping her grades up and attending all her classes.

Her teacher, you, was also very understanding of his schedule and position. He wasn’t sure how many teachers would have been as patient with him as you were. It was part of the reason he had grown fond of you, though it had been a gradual process that happened mostly unbeknownst to him.

At the beginning of the year, he had only been concerned about getting Abby acclimated to her new school. She was a quiet kid, stuck to her drawings, and it was even hard for him to get her to open up sometimes. Runs in the family, apparently. But, somehow, you were able to break down the wall that had been erected around her. Abby still didn't talk all that much, but she would always come back from school with a smile on her face. So, Mike was happy.

Then, like all good things, it came crashing down like a house of cards when his work schedule finally aligned with one of the “upcoming” meetings. This one was apparently a very big deal, and it was strongly implied to show up.

He hated these things despite never going to any before, but he just knew it would be filled with nosey people asking questions about his life. His sister. His “wife.”

God, he was already annoyed. The only saving grace was that it was the last meeting before the holiday break, so once it was over, he would be free for a while. Free to do what, exactly? Work, most likely, but a guy can dream.

The bell rang, signifying the end of the school day and the start of his personal nightmare. The door to the classroom was opened by one of the school's assistants, who held a clipboard in hand and waited for the “parents” to enter the room. He had arrived earlier than the scheduled time so he could speak to the assistant and find out what the meeting would entail, and already he knew it was a bad idea coming in here.

The woman was a nosy old biddy that was all too eager to learn the details of his and Abby's life.

He kept his answers short and clipped, but it did nothing to dissuade the woman. It got worse when he entered the classroom and saw the number of other parents who had shown up. He felt like an animal in a zoo; all the eyes followed his movements as he went to sit closest to the wall and away from the rest of the people.

The surrounding parents looked as though they lived in the next town over. They were clean-cut, hair styled perfectly, and clothes ironed. It was like they were trying to be a picture-perfect family.

He looked down at his own attire. His work boots were scuffed and dusty. His pants had a few grass stains from a recent job. His flannel shirt was buttoned wrong, and the sleeves were pushed up. Even his hair was a mess; he had tried to style it but didn't have much success, so he eventually gave up. The only thing going for him was that he had taken a shower before he left, so at least he didn't smell like sweat and grime.

As the meeting began, Mike had to try his best not to fall asleep. It was the typical teacher stuff. How the kids were doing. What the curriculum was for the following year. What their goals were. Blah, blah, blah.

Mike didn't care. He trusted you, and he knew his little sister was smart. She didn't need someone holding her hand and telling her what she was doing right or wrong. He knew this because he did that, and she didn't need it.

What did interest him, though, was the fact you kept looking his way. You didn't look at the others, and when you spoke, it was usually aimed toward them, but he saw the way you would look at him from the corner of your eye. He figured you were probably in shock that he actually showed up this time.

The meeting dragged on, and he was ready to leave. There were a few moments he had caught himself nodding off as he needed sleep, and this wasn't helping him. But then, like everything else in his life, the universe decided it was his time to suffer.

There was one woman who had sat at the front of the classroom. She wore her hair pulled back tight in a bun, her shirt was pressed, and her face was set in a permanent frown. He hated that lady; she reminded him of his good-for-nothing aunt who only wanted to criticize every choice he made.

The lady was also the mother of the most spoiled, brattiest child in the whole class. That damned kid had made it her life mission to torment Abby. He had come home more than once with her complaining about it, and when Mike had brought it up with you, you had told him that you had spoken with the parent.

That, of course, had done nothing. The child was an annoying pest, and he hated the way she treated Abby, but his sister had learned early on to deal with the bullying on her own. It didn't stop him from wanting to throttle the little shit, though.

The woman, the one who had started all his problems, took the opportunity to start a round of questioning. The first few were innocuous until they weren't.

"You seem to be a very patient woman." The woman had spoken to you, but her eyes were locked on him. "Is it a skill that was learned?"

The question itself was innocent enough, but the inflection and tone she used were meant to cut. He wasn't stupid. He knew she was alluding to something. It was always something, but he had to force himself not to say anything; the woman was a viper, and if he said something, she would attack without hesitation.

"I think anyone can be patient," You had responded diplomatically. "It's just a matter of the situation."

The woman didn't look happy with your answer, but she didn't pursue the line of questioning.

"Well, I couldn’t help but notice a certain someone who decided to finally drop in."

There it was. That was the opening.

Mike could tell you didn’t like the turn of conversation, and you were clearly trying to divert it elsewhere. It was no use, though. Mike could see the glint in the woman's eye as she prepared for the kill. She had a smile on her face, but her eyes were cold. "I was starting to think that Mr. Schmidt had abandoned his responsibilities. Wouldn’t be the first time someone in that family did such a thing."

He couldn’t help but have visions of his accidental mall incident from last year flash in his mind when he processed what the woman had said. He could easily hop over the desk and deck her right in the mouth. He had the muscle for it, and it was very tempting.

However, he would not.

If there was anything Mike had learned over the years, it was how to control his emotions, even if the situation was dire. The last time he had lost his cool, he ended up getting fired, but that was a long time ago… okay, not really, but the point was, he wouldn't make the same mistake again.

He wouldn't give the woman the satisfaction.

Mike leaned forward in his chair, arms crossed over his knees, and looked the woman straight in the eyes. "That's funny. I could say the same thing about your kid."

"Excuse me?!" She hissed, and she seemed offended. Good. He hoped she was offended.

"Okay, okay." You intervened, hands up as if to placate the two of them. "Let's keep this civil, okay? The last thing we want is to be kicked out of the school for brawling. That's not beneficial for any of us." You then looked back at the woman. "Let's not bring personal matters into this."

"Personal matters?" The woman was appalled at your statement, and her voice was so loud in the quiet room. He could tell many of the other parents were looking at them now, and he felt the weight of their gazes on him. It only made his anger spike. "That monkey of his tried to bully mine for three months now, and she's never done anything."

Monkey? Monkey?! Oh, he was going to kill her. It was one thing to talk shit about him; he was used to that, but Abby? No. Absolutely not. His little sister was the best damn thing to come into his life. He wouldn't have it.

But before he could say something, before he could even get out of the chair, you had done something he would never have thought you would. You got up and went to your desk, then you returned, holding a paper. You held it up for all the parents to see.

"This is a drawing my students did a few weeks ago," you started, and he was surprised at the level of calmness you were exuding. "The assignment was for them to draw the thing they loved the most."

Hearing those words, Mike had a feeling what was coming next, but he wasn't going to say anything. It would be like tempting fate. Still, he watched as you grabbed one of the papers, and then you turned it around so he could see it. Abby had done the drawing, and it was not only of him but of everyone else in her class as well. She had even drawn you standing near her with a kind smile. It was the picture she had brought home from that field trip months ago. It was a nice picture. Really nice. He liked it, and he knew Abby was proud of it.

"I made copies of every drawing so the parents could see them," You continued as you held out the picture for everyone to see. "So, tell me, would a bully do this?"

Your voice had a bite to it now, and he could finally see just how angry you were. He was surprised at how much control you were exerting. The other parents, however, were shocked at your sudden display of emotion. Even the woman, who had looked as though she was ready to take you on herself, looked like a deer caught in headlights. She didn't know what to say. No one said anything. Even he was shocked by your sudden outburst.

You were normally such a mellow person. Understanding, even. Always ready to listen, always ready to understand. You were the one who was there to help when something went wrong. You were the person who everyone turned to. You were… nice. You were a kind person. You were—you were just like Abby. That's all he saw in you now. You were just like his sister. You were just like her. You had that same determination and that same look of knowing something that others didn't, but there was also something else. You were a fighter, too. It was just something he hadn't noticed until this very moment.

You weren't the nice teacher everyone thought you were. No, you were more. You were the person he knew his sister was becoming.

"And to answer your question from before," you continued, ignoring the growing outrage from the other parent. "I'm a very patient woman because I understand that not everyone has the same opportunities. Some of us have a responsibility to provide the basic necessities for our family, which can often lead to not being able to attend these types of meetings.”

You looked directly at the woman when you spoke the last part, and you did not look happy. At all. In fact, he was pretty sure that was a little vein on the side of your head.

"Not everyone can be at their best every moment. Not everyone is at their best all the time. Not everyone has the privilege to complain about things not going their way. So, while I am a very patient woman, I will not have any of this derogatory about my students and their guardians." The calmness in your voice was gone, and your voice was rising, and you had started pacing back and forth behind your desk as you spoke. "Because if there is one thing that I cannot stand, it's someone who criticizes others just to make themselves feel better."

You went on to speak about your experience with the woman's daughter, explaining that a meeting needed to be called upon to address the issues with the child. You didn't stop there, though. No, you also spoke about how she should have addressed the situation when it was first brought up and how that, in turn, impacted the rest of your class. You had even pointed out some of the other parent's children who had done the same thing.

Suddenly, this meeting wasn't as bad as he thought it would be.

It took a while, but once you finished your little speech, everyone had finally gotten over their shock and embarrassment. The meeting, as such, continued without incident, and by the time it was all said and done, Mike was ready to go home.

As he stood from his seat and made his way to the door, however, you stopped him. You had your bag in your hand and your coat on as well.

"I just wanted to—"

"You don't need to apologize," Mike cut you off. He didn't want an apology. He knew you weren't at fault here. In fact, he was surprised you took the time even to defend him. That didn't happen often. "I was expecting something like that to happen, but I appreciate you speaking up for Abby. She's got a good teacher."

He thought you would be embarrassed or even annoyed, but instead, your face lit up, and your cheeks turned red. "Oh, uh, well, it's my job. It was what I needed to do."

"Maybe, but you did it anyway. So, I appreciate it." He looked around the room and noticed everyone else had left. Even the nosy assistant had disappeared. He didn't know what to say, so he settled with saying the first thing that came to mind. "And hey, maybe next time you can tell them this is why I don't go to these meetings."

Your laugh was light, and you had a smile on your face. He liked the sound of it. He liked seeing it, too. He also liked the way it lit up your eyes. They had a beautiful color. So bright, so shiny. It was almost hypnotic.

"I'll consider it."

Mike wasn't sure how, but somehow, he knew you were telling the truth.

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theemporium · 8 months

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Please could you do something where Sunshine is avoiding Daniel because something happened and he’s not going to like it? Thank you xxx

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

tw: talks of harassment and sexual harassment

You should’ve told him.

You knew you should’ve told you, and a part of you wanted to tell him. You and Daniel didn’t keep secrets, not ones like this and it killed you to not tell him. But you also knew what he was like, you knew how he would get.

Daniel was protective. He was protective over the people he cared about, and you were lucky enough to be one of those people. But when it came to those he loved, he tended to lose all logic and rationality, and you knew this would be no different.

You knew if you told him, he would lose his top. He would be pissed (never at you though). And, if you were being totally honest, you didn’t tell him because you were scared of the repercussions.

You didn’t want Daniel to act on impulse and do something stupid that would result in him losing his job. It would eat you up if you knew you were the reason he lost his dream. You couldn’t do that.

So, you decided to keep your mouth shut about the nosy journalist.

At first, he was just that. He was nosy and got in your space a little too much. He would hound you with questions about Daniel and your relationship, follow you through the paddock until you could escape into the garages.

Then, his questions got more personal and sexual, and your discomfort was growing. He started questioning your sex life, asking what you did to please Daniel in bed. You knew it was wrong, of course you did. But that voice in the back of your head told you that you were being dramatic, that no one would believe you and that maybe—just maybe—you weren’t taking a joke right.

It was during one of these insistent questioning sessions that Max witnessed it. He was pissed, raging beyond belief. The question he interrupted wasn’t even that bad, tame in comparison to what you were used to. But Max saw your discomfort and snapped at the journalist to fuck off.

You made him swear not to tell Daniel anything, saying that you wanted to tell him yourself. Max was hesitant, but agreed.

But then, things escalated further.

You were running late, having slept in a bit longer than you were meant to. Daniel was at the gym with his trainer early that morning, so you wouldn’t see him until later in the day when he arrived. You were rushing through the crowd of people to get to the garage, not paying attention to where you were going until a hand suddenly gripped your arm and tugged you back.

You lost your footing and fell to the ground. You winced at the impact, and tried to tug yourself free, only to see the journalist standing over you. You freaked out, you thrashed around but the journalist wouldn’t let you go until you answered his questions.

The camera he was trying to shove in your face ended up knocking against your forehead, and considering the dripping you could feel down the side of your face, you knew you had been cut.

The journalist seemed to finally back off when he noticed blood, freaking out and giving you enough time to run off to the safety of the McLaren motorhome, which happened to be the closest.

You were too busy looking behind you, that you didn’t even see Lando until you ran right into him.

“Woah,” he laughed, his hands on your shoulders to stop you from falling back. But you flinched at the movement, and when you turned towards him, his face fell. “What the fuck happened?”

“I—” But your throat went dry and you couldn’t really speak. You couldn’t get the words, you couldn’t do anything but stare at him with wide eyes and shaky breaths.

“Okay, wait, no, it’s fine,” he murmured as his eyes darted around the room before quickly leading you towards the bathrooms. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? You don’t have to tell me anything.”

And he kept his promise. He led you towards the bathrooms, had you leaned against a counter whilst he managed to scavenge a first aid kit from another team member. He didn’t say a word to you as he cleaned the cut on your forehead before placing some butterfly stitches over the wound.

“You can’t tell him,” you rasped out eventually, breaking the silence between you. “He can’t know.”

Lando paled. “You should—”

“He will freak out,” you said to him. “I don’t want him to do anything that will damage his reputation.”

“Mate, I think you’re passed that point,” Lando murmured as he nodded towards your arm. Your sleeve had rolled up, revealing what looked like a bruise starting to form where the journalist had grabbed you. “He will know the second he sees you.”

You pressed your lips. “I can avoid him.”

The Brit sighed. “I really think you should tell Daniel.”

“Just…promise me you won’t say anything?” you pleaded to the driver who had become a close friend to you over the years. “Let me handle the rest.”

And just like Max, despite his hesitance, he agreed.

It was hard. Way harder than you thought because the second he reached the paddock, Daniel was blowing up your phone to see you. You tried to make up excuses but he wasn’t buying them at all.

He tried to find you in between meetings and in the garage, but it was like you were a ghost. A pit formed in his stomach when he asked the third team member if they had seen you, only to scrabble out some shitty replying before running off.

He knew you were ignoring him and he wanted to know why.

Daniel went as far as hunting down some of your closest friends in the paddock to see if they knew why you were acting weird, which led him towards the McLaren motorhome where Lando and Max were standing outside, talking away about something that seemed serious considering the expression on their faces.

A conversation that came to a halt the second they noticed Daniel.

“Have you seen Sunshine?”

Neither boy said anything.

Daniel frowned. “What’s going on? What’s with that look on your faces?”

Max tried laughing it off, waving his hand dismissively. “It’s nothing—”

“Something happened to her this morning and she doesn't want you to know!” Lando blurted out before he slapped his hand over his mouth.

“Fucking hell,” Max muttered.

But Daniel felt like every thought came to a screeching stop the second the words left Lando’s mouth. His heart was pounding in his chest and he swore he could hear his blood roaring in his ears.

“What do you mean something happened to her?”

It took less than two minutes for the boys to break. And less than a minute for them to reveal where you had been hiding all day.

Your head snapped up when the door to Max’s driver room opened, expecting to see the boy returning with the coffees he promised to run out and grab. But your face fell a little when you noticed it was Daniel.

His eyes were locked on you, or more specifically the cut on your forehead. You didn’t even realise your hand subconsciously moved to cover the forming bruise until his eyes dropped there, and there was nothing but pure anger in his expression.

“Daniel—” you started but he was already moving across the room, kneeling down beside you and reaching to cup your face.

“Are you okay?”

The question caught you off guard slightly, almost like you expected him to start demanding answers instantly.

“Sunshine, are you okay?”

“I….Lando cleaned me up,” you murmured slowly.

His jaw clenched slightly. “What happened?”

You stayed silent.

“Sunshine,” he said in a firmer voice.

“I don’t want you to do something stupid,” you blurted out. “I…promise me you won’t. Please. I don’t want you getting in trouble with something—”

“Stop,” he said with a shake of his head. “Sunshine, I can’t promise anything of the sort.”

Your face fell. “Daniel—”

“He hurt you,” Daniel gritted out between clenched teeth, his eyes dark and stormy. “He has been bothering you for weeks, he should have been dealt with ages ago. So no, I am not gonna promise I won’t do anything stupid because he hurt the love of my life, and that’s not something I am gonna let go.”

Your lips parted into a small ‘o’.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered, his voice a little more agonised as his thumb brushed over your cheek. “Baby, you can tell me anything.”

“I don’t know, I just—” you let out a sigh, shaking your head. “I thought I was being dramatic.”

Daniel’s eyes softened. “Tell me next time. Please. I…baby, you were hurt and I wasn’t there for you.”

“M’sorry,” you murmured but he quickly shook his head.

“Don’t apologise. Not for this.” Daniel said, leaning in to peck your lips. “Come on, we are taking you to the hospital.”

Your eyes widened. “Daniel, I’m fine. You have—”

“Nuh uh, I wanna make sure you don’t need proper stitches or have a concussion or anything,” he said as he pulled you off the couch you were currently sitting on. “And once I know you are okay, I am gonna ruin that fucker’s life for ever laying a hand on you.”

“I don’t want you to get in trouble,” you said in a softer voice.

“Oh please,” he murmured, a small smile growing on his face. “Christian will protect me while I protect you.”

You snorted.

“And afterwards, I am gonna kick Max and Lando’s asses for not telling me.”

“They were just being good friends,” you told him. “I asked them not to.”

“Still kicking their asses!”

#daniel ricciardo #formula one #f1 #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x y/n #daniel ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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casuallyawkardd · 9 months

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hello dear, how are you?, could you write a picture where miguel discovers that you are learning spanish to show that you care about him, if it doesn't go well. thanks for the attention ☺️☺️

After my trip, I'm a little tired and sunburnt, but it was all worth it! Ngl, imma be needing to write something wholesome after the shit I've been writing so here you go 😂😭

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader

Warnings: fluff that is all, also I'm still not fluent in Spanish so feel free to correct grammar/spelling

For Miguel, he thinks you're ignoring him. You're blowing him off to go do something else and when he tries to pry you tell him to 'quit being so nosy.' He's already annoyed, so he doesn't pick up on your teasing tone.

In reality, you've been trying to learn Spanish to surprise him. You don't expect to be fluent anytime soon, but some simple phrases and a few terms of endearment are a good start. Those moments when Miguel is talking to you and thinks you're ignoring him, are actually you listening to your Spanish lessons. Whenever you're 'blowing him off,' you're just sitting in your room practicing your pronunciations.

Lyla catches wind of what you're doing before him, overhearing you at HQ when you thought you had found a quiet place to practice. She even offers to help you out and you gladly take her up on the offer. You had had one too many dreams of the Duolingo owl in the corner of your room as it was. Little do you know that your nightmares only now come to life, though that could just be you being dramatic.

Unlike the little, green owl app, these lessons talk back. Sometimes it feels like she critiques you too harshly, especially when you practice writing in Spanish. You wanted to be able to put cute, little notes around his platform. Her shrill voice reminding you when and where to put the accents on letters and that you have to add upside down exclamation and question marks at the beginning of a sentence wakes you up in the middle of the night. However, Lyla is also extremely helpful at the same time. Teaching you the more 'casual' way to say certain things, as opposed to the generic, robotic responses you had been learning. Even some swear words because why not?

The day finally comes when you're ready to reveal your little surprise. Miguel is reluctant, back to you as you try to get his attention.

"Oh, so now you have free time?"

It's a bit endearing that he missed your presence, you say as much. 'Yo también te extrañé, mi amor.' I missed you too, my love.

His head snaps in your direction, confusion written on his face. Slowly, he steps towards you, eyeing you as if expecting you to say something else. Which you do. 'Quería sorprenderte aprendiendo español. ¿Es eso mala?' I wanted to surprise you by learning Spanish. Is it bad?

Everything clicks into place and he's sighing in relief, grasping you by the upper arms to pull you in for a kiss on the forehead. He holds position, letting the kiss sink in before pulling away, running his hands up and down your arms.

"Agradezco el gesto, de verdad. Gracias amor." I really appreciate the gesture. Thanks love.

You ask why he was giving you the cold shoulder moments ago, Miguel sighing heavily before explaining his side of things. How he had assumed you were ignoring him and that he might've gotten a little bit salty about it. You laugh, realizing your mistake. '¡Soy embarazada!' Miguel's smile drops a little after that, looking like he's trying to keep it just for you.

"Yeah, you definitely have some more practicing to do, cariño."

Tags: @prettylittlebrowngirl @khaleesihavilliard @leahnicole1219 @edgycatx @graysonshaven @qiaipia @3zae-zae3 @melovetitties @jebsoxnoshansk @thedevax @erissco @its-carlerrr @muimui06

#miguel o'hara #reader insert #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara x you #x reader #anon ask #lovely anon

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feverdreamsandlucidnightmares · 2 months

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It’s the Themes, but it’s been pointed out to me that I didn’t include enough options and that some of my options were vague/confusing. I also fucked up my own soup and hit the wrong option trying to get my screen to refresh. Thank you to the 121 participants in the original poll thus far. Y’all scare me a little bc it’s only been up a couple hours but I appreciate it. Sorry about the mishaps and don’t feel obligated to participate in the re-do, but I will of course be eternally grateful if you do want to (for science! 👀)

Im also increasing the time to a week!

* Aspec includes the ace spectrum, the aro spectrum, and any combination or variation of the two. Picking the "Aspec" option means that one or more aspec identities are part of your overall identity, but you can have other queer identities in addition to that.

The "Both" option is intended to be for anyone who has an aspec identity (as explained above) and is also disabled.

The "Otherwise Queer" option is intended to be for anyone who is a part of the LGBTQIA+ community, but not on the ace or aro spectrums at all.

I struggled with wording on this and Im sorry its slightly confusing. Go with whatever option resonates best for you and if you have any questions feel free to ask! I stay on Tumblr a ridiculous amount and will respond to you within a day if not a few hours. I want this to be fun, not stressful, so Im happy to help or talk as needed! Feedback is completely welcome /srs

EDITED for clarity on meaning of poll options 3/2/24

#trigun #trigun stampede #tristamp #trigun 98 #trimax #trigun maximum #trigun poll #vash the stampede #tysm everyone I was not expecting such a big response #especially so quickly #feverdreamsandlucidnightmares

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blue-jisungs · 1 year

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exam szn

request. yes, this one from my 3k ask game. feel free to request but please read the rules beforehand :D also i hope you don’t mind i kind of turned into it academic rivals but technically it’s enemies too…. i didn’t have any other idea how to combine it :( i’m not really happy with how it came out as well ㅠㅠ i hope you like it tho!! <3

a/n. it’s actually crazy bc the day before i wrote this and got this ask i talked with @slytherinhobi about yj… then i got the ask… and then when i started writing it yj posted those pics on twt. it’s destiny frfr yeonjun ask me out already 🙄🙄

summary. when your academic rival witnessed your breakdown, neither of you expect such outcome

warnings. crying, reader is extremely stressed :(

finals are never easy.

and they definitely aren’t easy when you also have a nosy boy on your head, bragging about how he’s better at you in anything.

“can you shut up for once?” you spit out, looking at yeonjun. his smirk widens as he shakes his head as a no “god, you’re worse than beomgyu”

you’re waiting for the examiner to let you into the class. it’s been a long week of exams, every day from a different subject. it’s friday which means it’s the last day but you can feel the stress and tiredness getting into you as you can’t even focus on anything. and the fact that you’re in the same room as yeonjun doesn’t help.

your rivalry started in first grade when you got the maximum on a test and he didn’t. and when the teacher praised you for it? yeah, that was the starting point. you have no idea why did he care so much, you just wanted to be left alone. but when yeonjun signalled that he’s not leaving you any time soon, it quickly escalated into competition.

the worst part was that you realised that you kind of, well… have a crush on him. it was stupid, you knew. but he wasn’t that bad. okay, towards you he was a complete asshole. but you saw the way he’s nice to his friends and how he cares about them. and - you had to admit - he is such a pretty boy–

“–are you deaf or something?”

you snapped your gaze towards him and his stupid smile.

“piss off” you huffed and entered the room upon seeing how you two are the only left. hmph. the teacher must have came earlier.

yeonjun watched you and he felt his heart ache. you seemed exhausted. he felt guilt sinking in his stomach because what if he’s the reason? it’s the finals and you’re stressed enough…

he shook his head and entered the classroom, sitting on his spot. the teacher started giving out the tests and yeonjun took a last glance at you and your shaking hands.

three hours, one headache and sweaty palms layer you stormed out of the classroom, heading to the nearest bathroom to let out the tears you’ve been holding for the past half an hour.

you felt awful. the questions weren’t that hard, sure, because you studied but even though you felt that you failed miserably. it was just too much.

you slammed the door and leaned over the sink, taking a shaky breath. you let out a harsh sob, the emotions that bottled up in the past week finally breaking out.

you didn’t even realise when the door from the bathroom opened. only when you heard this annoying voice… that was strangely soft, you looked up just to catch eye contact with him in the mirror.

“y/n…?”

you let out a shriek, jumping away from the sink. it was yeonjun. what is yeonjun doing in a ladies bathroom, first of all. and why–

“get out!” you sniffled, manically trying to wipe out the tears even though he’s literally standing here in front of you and is a witness of your mental breakdown.

“you do realise it’s the men’s bathroom, right? soobin told me he saw you. as much as he always talks shit i had to check out myself” he scoffed. you didn’t see how his expression softened though. the feeling of guilt from before returning to him because he was unfortunately right. it was awful to see you in a state like this and especially knowing that he was party a cause of it–

“sorry”

yeonjun looked at you, eyes widening. the tears didn’t stop streaming from your face as you took your bag and rushed to the exit.

he didn’t know what to do. yeonjun knew he can’t leave you like this, as much as you probably hate him. you need to be taken care of right now.

he stormed out of the bathroom and caught up to you. yeonjun gently grabbed your wrist, the sight of his worried gaze confusing you.

“leave me alone” you hissed, trying to wriggle out of his hold. he did not let go.

“i know you hate me but y/n, you’re not in the best–” he started as you punched his chest, tears dwelling in your eyes once again

“yes, indeed i hate you. who you are to tell in what mental condition am i?” you spit out and gave up, letting out a harsh sob. you stopped moving, looking down.

“i’m sorry. i’m an asshole, i know” yeonjun mumbled and was caught off guard when you suddenly hugged him tightly.

“i’m just so tired” you cried into his shirt, probably soaking it. his eyes widened but he quickly wrapped his arms around you feeling that you needed that hug.

“i know. but please don’t cry. please” yeonjun whispered into your hair, feeling his eyes water as well “you’ll be alright. i promise”

“no i won’t. the exam went horrible” you sobbed but your breath started getting more stable.

“i’m sure you did well. i really am. but let’s take care of you now, okay? you’re overworked” he said. you fell silent, the occasional shivers of your body letting him know that you’re calming down.

he wasn’t rushing you. and when you finally let go, he quickly wiped his eyes before you could notice.

“why do you act like that?” you asked and yeonjun let out a deep sigh, cupping your cheeks and wiping gently your smudged mascara with his fingers “you literally told me to eat dirt yesterday”

yeonjun tightened his lips, mind racing with million of thoughts.

“i can’t say it…” he sighed, removing his hands. he couldn’t possibly tell you that he may or may have not developed feelings towards you.

“coward” you scoff, wiping your cheeks and taking a deep breath “well… thank you. i guess. but now i’m gonna go”

“please don’t–” yeonjun said before he could realise those words left his mouth. you turned around and he cleared his throat. you looked at each other shocked.

he took a deep sigh and pulled you closer.

“i know it’s not the best time to say it since you’re still stressed about the exam. and i know my actions says otherwise but i… i like you. and i feel so bad knowing that i was the reason that got you so stressed out too” he confessed, looking for some kind of reaction on your face. he certainly did not expect you to cry though.

“don’t joke about it. is this a test or what? that’s just mean” you sniff, hiding your face in your hands.

“what? y/n, i’m not. it’s just… i didn’t intend on being mean it just… happened” he mumbled, causing you to scoff “but i really like you. and i’m sorry i just threw it on you like that– oof!”

you hugged him again, sobbing into his shirt.

“i liked you for so long it broke my heart that you acted this way towards me” you murmured and yeonjun’s heart sped up. what…?

he took a deep breath, trying to calm down. his mind tried hard to comprehend how you managed to like him despite his mean posture towards you but right now he knew you have to rest.

yeonjun slowly pulled you away, pressing a soft kiss onto your forehead.

“i’m sorry. but let’s go over to my place now, okay? you have to eat something” he smiled softly.

“can you– hold my hand though?” you whispered, yeonjun’s heart clenching with how adorable you are.

“of course” he hummed and grabbed your hand, caressing it with his thumb.

[ masterlist <3 ]

taglist. @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinhobi ,, @jung0ne ,, @ka-ni-ma ,, @iliveforlixie ,, @moonacholy

#txt fluff #yeonjun fluff #blue jisungs's ask game #txt yeonjun #txt fic #txt soft hours #txt reactions #txt imagines #txt scenarios #yeonjun x y/n #yeonjun x you #yeonjun x reader #txt au

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babyboiboyega · 1 year

Text

The Study Room Pt. 2 (HBCU!Shuri x Black!Fem!reader)

HBCU!Shuri x Black!F!reader

Word Count: 6k (gotdamn)

Babyboiboyega’s Marvel Masterlist

Babyboiboyega’s Masterlist of Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Content: fluff, a little bit of angst, mentions of hospitals, the very high potential that the second part of this doesn’t make a lot of sense, as I finished this around 4 AM, running on nothing but a Canada Dry and a family size bag of Cape Cod chips (my faveeee)

Part 2 is heerree! I know I said it was gonna be posted sometime last night...but I have a problem where I’ll start writing, and instead of keeping with the plot I had already planned, my mind is just like “okay but what if we did this??” That’s exactly how this part turned from 2k words to 5.7k. I stayed up until 4 am writing this because I was so excited to finish it and post it.

So y’all better not let this flop, or TRUST...you will be dealt with.

I’m just kidding. I hope y’all enjoy this part!

Recap:

Your eyes scanned the message over and over until it was finally time for you to get ready for bed; but even as you lay in bed a while later, your eyes on their way to shutting for the night, you couldn’t help the small smile that curved your lips.

Shuri: you’re welcome. Same time tomorrow? :)

You: I’d like that, if you’re free

Shuri: for you? I am. See you tomorrow. Goodnight, y/n

You: goodnight, Shuri :)

**********

It took only a few days for you and Shuri to become a set of bonafide friends. It took the same amount of time for something to start developing between you two, something that didn’t exactly scream just friends. It unsurprisingly took less than that for people to start asking you questions.

You hadn’t exactly predicted that it would happen, but you didn’t put it past your fellow classmates to ask questions; the way some of them gazed at the two of you when walking across campus told you enough about their curiosity. The attention wasn’t exactly enjoyable, but you felt as if you couldn’t complain compared to what Shuri probably went through on campus.

The questions you were approached with ranged from humorous to downright nosy- so nosy you couldn’t even answer them. Some questions were healthy reminders that you weren’t the only one potentially attracted to the princess, and ironically, those were the hardest ones to answer.

Almost every time you met with her, you had new questions to spout her way on behalf of your classmates. Only the semi-normal and funny ones were discussed, though. If the question was even the slightest bit out of pocket, you didn’t even bother mentioning it to her, not wanting to even risk making her uncomfortable; not if you could help it.

However…you had to admit that even you were curious about her answers to a few questions…especially one that you were asked mere minutes before leaving your last class and meeting her in one of the study rooms.

“Hey, there she is!”

You heard her voice before you saw her, her accent making it easy to recognize who it belonged to.

Shuri had a habit of making you smile as soon as you saw her, no matter what type of mood you were in, and tonight wasn’t any different. The smile that appeared on your face echoed on Shuri’s as she approached you, lifting her arms to embrace you in a hug. She didn’t exactly tower over you, but she still had to bend a little at the waist to hug you, her arms wrapping around your back while yours did the same.

“Hey, girl. How were your classes?” You had somehow learned how to keep the nerves out of your voice when you spoke to her, but it was also partly due to Shuri just making you feel comfortable enough to forget about those nerves.

You were never the one to pull away first, simply because you could stay in her arms for as long as possible if you had the chance, but as you waited for her to pull away, she did something different.

At your question, she let out a soft groan of annoyance, resting her forehead against your shoulder. Her shoulders also dropped, her hands on your back fisting for just a second before relaxing. If you weren’t so worried about her reaction, you would have surely been worried about keeping your limbs from shaking against hers.

“Ah, hell. What happened? You wanna talk about it?”

She let out a breath before finally pulling back, much to your dismay. There was still a smile on her face, yet it had dimmed in contrast to the one she had just sported a minute ago. She shook her head, gently turning you in the direction of the study room. When she spoke, the regular, but subtle, playfulness was back in her voice.

“Not right now. Maybe later. Besides,” she stopped to open the door to the room, letting you walk in first before following and closing it behind her. When she turned to face you, there was a slight mischievous look in her eye.

“I want to know about this Serena girl who was oh-so-interested in us.”

Her usage of the word ‘us’ made your breath hitch, but you quickly covered it with a short laugh. You could only shake your head at first, remembering the conversation you had been subjected to earlier and how you had immediately texted Shuri about it.

“Nah, I’d say she was more interested in you, Shuri. You should’ve heard the questions she was asking me.”

Instead of getting her own computer and supplies out, she pulled out the chair next to you, sitting down and turning to face you. Her eyes were narrowed as she waited for you to continue, which you did. However, instead of looking at her, you worked on pulling out your own supplies in an effort to hide just how annoyed you still were at the conversation. Your annoyance was partly due to the kind of questions you had been asked and partly due to the insinuation behind them.

“The sparknotes version? She basically asked me to put her on with you. I asked her ‘how do you even know if she likes women?’. You know what she asked me?”

“What’d she ask?”

“She asked, and I quote, ‘well can you find out? I’m not the only woman here who wants the answer.’ The hell you mean ‘can I find out’? You really live in a lot of women’s heads rent-free, Shuri.”

A quick glance over at her showed that instead of looking anything close to annoyed, she looked amused. It wasn’t lost on you how she indulged in your storytelling, which only made it easier to fall for her. But the way she gazed at you in silence, undoubtedly as you recounted the conversation, told you that she was more amused at your reaction than at the story itself. It was all but proven as she let out a quiet snicker, making your eyebrows raise.

“You think that’s funny?”

Your words may have sounded genuinely annoyed to anyone else, but Shuri could see the small smile that threatened to curve your lips. It only made her find the situation funnier. She attempted to hide her smile, shaking her head.

“What? No, of course not.”

The look on your face showed exactly how much you didn’t believe her words. The shit-eating grin on her face told you enough. Silence settled between the two of you as you looked at each other, daring the other to break first. It only lasted for a few seconds before you were both letting out laughs.

“It was lowkey funny. I had to try so hard not to laugh. But, yeah, that was today’s out of pocket question.”

You didn’t even think about sharing with her the moment another girl asked if the two of you were ‘talking’. Having to explain the meaning behind two people ‘talking’ and how someone had applied it to you two, and then having to see Shuri’s reaction to it was nerve-wracking enough that you had no problem pushing it to the back of your mind.

“Not the weirdest one I’ve received, and certainly not the last time I’ll receive it. It isn’t even the first time I’ve been asked something along those lines.”

This time, your eyes narrowed slightly as you looked over at her. You propped your head on your hand, tilting it slightly as you motioned for Shuri to continue.

“Hold on…are you telling me people have been hitting on you? When has this happened?”

You prayed that the slight jealousy you felt wasn’t reflected in your question, because in all honesty…you didn’t know if you had that right, yet. Yes, you two had grown close over the span of a few days, and there had even been some slight, shameless flirting from the both of you…but until either of you acknowledged that there was something there, the line was blurred.

Apparently, you didn’t try hard enough to hide that jealousy if Shuri’s knowing smirk was anything to go by. She seemed to realize that your attention was solely on her as you waited for her answer, and she almost seemed to revel in it, taking her time to actually answer. You waited, eyes focused on the side of her face as she turned to finally take her own supplies out.

“Not a lot of people. Just the very brave ones.”

Your eyebrows raised, yet you kept silent. It took a few seconds of that silence for Shuri to realize that you were still staring at her expectantly. Her own eyebrow raised in question as she glanced at you.

“What?”

“What do you mean ‘what’? And? What did you say to them?”

Shuri turned to face you fully, her knee knocking against yours. There was still a questioning look on her face, but that damned smirk hadn’t gone anywhere. Instead of replying right away, she leaned back in her seat, letting her legs stretch out until they were placed on both sides of one of yours. She crossed her arms over her chest.

She had to know. She had to know the effect she had on you, and she constantly loved to see just how far she could push it. How close could she get before she had you glancing away nervously, slipping on your words? What could she say that would leave you speechless while simultaneously wanting to tell her all of the thoughts that ran through your mind at the mere thought of her?

How long would you two toe the blurred line between you two? How far would you two have to go in order to erase that line completely?

“Well, of course, I said that I wasn’t interested.” Her voice brought you out of the thoughts that were quickly bordering on spiraling, and instead heightened your curiosity.

“And that’s it?”

“That’s it.”

The unanswered questions were right there, on the tip of your tongue, yet you held them back. Grilling her about her answer felt a little too close to becoming…relational, and the last thing you wanted, or needed, was her to realize that you were asking the questions for yourself. Asking questions that would ease your mind when it came to thinking of Shuri getting with someone else.

You put on your best nonchalant expression, nodding your head in response.

“Hmm. I was kind of expecting at least one person to catch your eye.”

What are you doing? Are you dumb? Perhaps stupid? Now your feelings are about to be hurt.

Her smirk widened into a full blown smile, teeth showing and all. She shook her head, casually pulling her laptop closer to her and opening it. Instead of answering, she simply shrugged, letting out a soft “mmm” sound before turning her attention to her screen.

Without thinking, you reached out, lightly flicking her knee before turning to your own laptop. The laugh she let out was easy to listen to, almost calming, despite your mind still being preoccupied with analyzing her answer.

Even as you both started working on your respective assignments, you were constantly interrupted by your own thoughts, no matter how hard you tried to keep them at bay.

Shuri was now living in your mind rent-free, and you couldn’t seem to find an ounce of regret about it.

**********

You were quick to realize that any time you hung out together, time seemed to speed up, always making your time together too short. However, whatever ruling force in the universe had decided to remedy that, if only for just one night.

Right as you prepared to bid each other goodnight, your phone rang. The screen flashed your roommate’s name and after giving Shuri an apologetic smile, one she waved off, you pressed accept.

“Hey, ‘Mani. What’s going on?”

There was a moment of silence, at least in the foreground of the call. In the back, you could hear the distant sound of…sirens?

That wasn’t what made you feel uneasy, though. No, it was actually the sound of someone who wasn’t your roommate, but rather your ‘neighbor’, answering you paired with the sounds of sirens.

“Y/N, it’s Monica. Something’s happened at the dorm.”

Your eyebrows furrowed and your body froze, going tense.

“What do you mean something happened? Something like what- Where’s Imani?”

Monica didn’t respond immediately which only made you grow more uneasy and irate. It undoubtedly showed on your face and in your voice, as the next thing you knew, you were looking at Shuri face to face. She had slid into your line of vision with an expression of worry on her face. Between all of the sounds on the other end of the phone and your racing thoughts, the sight of her standing in front of you, obviously worried, helped ground you a little.

“They’re taking her to the hospital-”

“The hospital?”

“-There was a monoxide leak in the building and she said she wasn’t feeling well when we were evacuated. They said she’ll most likely be fine, but they just want to monitor her for the night. She also told me to grab your bag from near the door before leaving the building, so I have that with me.”

A heavy sigh left your mouth as you reached up to rub at your face. You covered your eyes as you took a second to think, trying to categorize which questions were most important to ask and which ones could wait.

“O-okay, can you meet me at the hospital? I’m gonna visit ‘Mani, make sure she’s alright. And then I can get my bag from you- thank you, by the way. Oh, shit. I don’t know how the hell I’m going to get there-”

You were cut off by a hand landing on your wrist, gently pulling your hand away from where it still covered your eyes. They snapped open to see that Shuri had stepped closer, her worried look only deepening as she looked at you.

“I’ll take you, it’s okay. We’ll take my car.”

You could’ve hugged her right then and there, and you were damn close to doing it. A fine mist fell over your eyes at the situation and at Shuri’s reassurance, but you only nodded quickly in thanks.

“Okay, I actually do have a ride. I’ll meet you at the hospital, okay? Thank you for calling, sis. Really.”

Shuri’s hand was already in the middle of your back, guiding you in the direction of, presumably, where her car was parked. You let yourself be steered, her hand a firm and reassuring guidance, until you finally arrived at her parked car. If you weren’t so overwhelmed, you would’ve surely gawked at the sight of her car, undoubtedly decked out with all of the most up to date tech. Hell, the car itself probably came from Wakanda, which automatically meant that it was technologically advanced in every way possible.

You were aware enough to notice Shuri open the door for you and wait until you were situated before running around to the drivers side and sliding in. It took less than a few seconds for her to start the car and pull off. As she effortlessly weaved around turns and bends, you could feel her constantly glancing your way, undoubtedly clocking the way you anxiously shook your leg.

“Griot, how far to the the nearest hospital?”

You looked over at her in confusion, a question on your lips; one that was quickly answered when a voice spoke over the car’s internal speakers.

“About 15 minutes, Princess. Roads are mostly clear and you are on the quickest route.”

“They would’ve called her parents by now, right? Isn’t that a part of a protocol? No, they most definitely called her parents, but I’m going to call them just to be safe. But I don’t want to call them and-”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see her hand reach towards you, and only a second later, you felt it land on your knee. That was all it took for your leg to slow down in its shaking. She continued to glance at you, catching your gaze each time. Her voice was soothing as she said your name, yet it held a firm tone that helped ground you.

“Your friend will be fine, I’m sure of it. The hospital most likely already called her parents. I need you to breathe.”

The more you replayed her words in your mind, the more they made sense, making you nod quickly. They played on a loop as you turned your attention back to the windshield. Her hand on your knee hadn’t moved; if anything, her grip only tightened in just the slightest, flexing on your knee. It provided you with warmth. Safety. Security.

All of these things you continued to feel until Shuri pulled into the parking lot of the hospital. As soon as she put the car in park, you were opening the door and sliding out, Shuri not too far behind you. She effortlessly caught up to you as you quickly walked into the hospital, checking your phone for the text from Monica that told you what room your roommate was in.

Your steps took you to the elevator, Shuri sliding in right behind you. She stood so close to you in the elevator that her arm pressed into yours. Did she know just how much her touch affected you, in more ways than one?

The doors opened not even a minute later and then you two were stepping out, your feet instantly carrying you in the direction of the room. Your steps brought you closer to the room but as soon as you reached for the door handle, a voice was calling out to you from down the hallway.

“Excuse me! I’m afraid you can’t go in there, only family members are allowed in after visiting hours are over.”

You let out a sigh, turning to face the nurse who had approached you. It was obvious that you weren’t the first person she had to say that line to, yet it still irritated you.

“Ma’am, my roommate was admitted after possibly being poisoned by carbon monoxide in our dorm hall, along with countless other students. I just want to make sure that she’s okay.”

The nurse approached you, raising her hands placatingly despite your voice being just as calm, if not calmer, as hers. Your eyebrows furrowed at the gesture.

“Look, I understand that you’re worried about your friend, but I assure you she’s fine. Her parents are in there with her, they’ve been with her this entire time. We found very minimal levels of CO in her system; minimal enough that she’ll be released in the morning.”

You cast a lingering look at the door your roommate was behind before nodding. That was all the nurse needed, for she promptly turned on her heel and walked back to whatever station or assignment she had been on. The nurse’s presence was almost immediately replaced by Monica’s, and in her hand was a familiar bag that belonged to you.

“I’m glad you made it. I’m sorry to rush, but here’s your stuff. I have to get back to my sister’s room. Our parents are coming up from North Carolina, she was uh…she was in the building a little longer. They want to watch her for a few nights.”

She tried to say it as nonchalantly as possible, but you could hear the worry in her voice. It made you all the more grateful that she had still brought you your bag, even when her sister was in more of a critical condition than Imani.

“Damn, I’m sorry, Monica. I hope she recovers quickly. Please let me know if you need anything. And thank you, so much, for getting this.”

The smile she sent you was tight around the corners, obviously forced, but somehow still genuine. She nodded, and only then did she seem to realize who the person behind you was, prompting her eyes to widen slightly.

“Oh, Princess Shuri-”

“Just Shuri.”

Monica once again nodded at the correction from her, glancing at you incredulously.

“Alright. Y’all take care, and I’ll see y’all later. I’ll keep you updated, okay?” Her last question was directed at you and you nodded, sending her another grateful smile. She waved before turning and going back in the direction she came from, leaving you and Shuri in the hallway.

You had to take a second to process everything that had just happened, though it was hard when you could feel a headache coming on. Amidst everything, you had absolutely forgotten that the last thing you’d need to find out would be where you would sleep for the night, or for however long it would take for the building to be checked and secured.

“You okay?”

Your head lifted from where you had placed it in one of your hands, your temple throbbing slightly. Shuri’s eyes were the first thing you saw as you looked up, as she had bent down just the slightest to be able to look you in the eye. Looking at her, it was hard to ignore the fact that the night would have been increasingly difficult if she hadn’t stuck by your side.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Just a small headache.”

Her lips twisted into a sympathetic grimace, and then she was standing back to her full height. She nodded, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Alright, well let's get you out of here. It’s pretty late.”

Almost as if her words reminded you that it was indeed pretty late in the night, a pang of exhaustion washed over you. You let out a breath, nodding in agreement and once again letting her basically lead you to the elevator you two had gotten off of.

You two walked in silence all the way to the car, and it was only after you arrived did you notice that at some point, she had slipped her hand into yours. Every now and again, she would squeeze your hand, whether it was to comfort you or just remind you that she was there. Regardless, you appreciated it more than she probably knew.

The silence continued as you both slid into the car, yet as soon as the doors closed, you were letting out a soft groan. You rubbed at your face, missing the way Shuri had turned to face you, worry plain on her face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just realized…I’m gonna have to find a hotel and hope that it isn’t completely booked by other students.”

As you spoke, you quickly realized that finding a hotel would only happen if you asked Shuri to drive you to one. Despite not a single complaint leaving her the entire night, you still felt slightly bad about asking her to drive you somewhere once again, especially considering how late it was.

Unbeknownst to you, while you worked up the courage to ask her for yet another favor, her eyes were flickering back and forth in your direction. Her lips were pursed in thought as one of her hands gripped the steering wheel.

“You know, I don’t have a roommate. I have a single room, perks of being royalty, I guess.” She sounded slightly nervous, yet you didn’t clock it as you were too busy thinking over her words. Your eyes widened slightly at her insinuation, your head shaking quickly.

“Shuri, no. That’d be asking too much of you; you’ve already driven me here and stayed with me, even when you didn’t have to-”

“I didn’t have to, that doesn’t mean I didn’t want to.” Gone was the nervousness in her voice; now it was unwavering as she spoke. She looked determined as she turned more in your direction.

You were too tired to hide your shaky inhale at her words; at the prospect of Shuri genuinely wanting to stay with you and comfort you. And now at the idea of her offering her own room to you for the night.

“We haven’t known each other for too long, but I can already tell what's going through your mind, and I can assure you that you are not inconveniencing me- at all. I am offering my place for you to stay tonight, or however long it takes until you’re able to go back to your own dorm.”

Silence descended between you two for a few seconds as you contemplated her words, eyebrows furrowed. There was no indication that she wasn’t genuine in her words, nor did you expect there to be one. But seeing the determined, reassuring expression on her face was just enough for you to cave in.

“Alright, but only if you’re sure. I don’t want to impose or anything.”

God, you wished you could’ve snapped a picture of the smile that broke across her face at your words; it was wide enough for you to see her dimples. The mere sight of it made your own appear.

“I promise, you aren’t imposing. You can’t impose on someone who enjoys your company.”

**********

You must have been more tired than you thought, because one minute you were looking out the window as Shuri drove, and the next she was crouched down inside of the passenger door, gently shaking you awake. She called your name softly, shaking your shoulder.

“Sorry to wake you, but we’re here.” Once you remembered where ‘here’ was, you jolted awake, sitting up quickly.

“Oh, my goodness, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you. My bad.”

A soft laugh left her mouth and she stepped back, grabbing your bag before you could get it yourself. She hoisted it on her shoulder which only left you with the task of grabbing your bookbag and stepping out of the car. You sent her a smile as you followed her into the dorm hall, yet upon entering it, you couldn’t help but be slightly impressed. Everyone knew that this specific dorm hall was one of the nicer ones on the entire campus, and you weren’t surprised that Shuri had been placed in it. However, you still were a little surprised that you were now about to spend a night in it, with Shuri, nonetheless.

“I’m on the top floor.”

“Do they have, like…suites on the top floor?”

Her laugh echoed in the mostly empty lobby, save for the front desk attendant who simply nodded as you two walked past. She shook her head as she pressed the elevator button, the doors automatically opening. Even as you two stepped in and pressed the appropriate floor, there was still an amused smile on her face.

“No, there aren’t suites on the top floor. It’s just…for easier access.”

The doors opened and she stepped off first. You trailed after her in confusion, lowering your voice with the hopes of not waking anyone on the floor.

“What do you mean by ‘easier access’? Easier access to what, exactly?”

You two approached the door at the end of the hall and she took her key out of her pocket. She glanced at you and shrugged lightly before turning and unlocking her door.

“The roof.”

She answered with such finality, as if you wouldn’t have follow up questions. Every one of those questioned died on your lips as she swung the door open, letting you walk in ahead of her.

If anyone would have told you that you’d end up in Princess Shuri of Wakanda’s dorm room, readying yourself to spend the night there, you would have promptly replied with a “nah, you’re trippin”. But here you were, stepping further into her room, looking at all of the memorabilia on her walls.

It was a spacious room, and she had filled the empty spaces with trinkets and posters, and other keepsakes. It was all an amalgamation of her own culture and the african-american culture she had grown to love during her time in the states. It was possibly the coolest room you had ever seen.

“I have a connected bathroom that you’re more than welcome to use if you want to take a shower or anything. There are towels and washcloths already in there.”

You nodded in response, already looking forward to taking a shower after the long day you had; and that’s exactly what you did.

Usually, you’d take as long as you wanted in the showers in your own dorm, but for some reason, you didn’t want to take up such time.

Who the hell were you kidding? You knew exactly why you didn’t want to take as long as usual in the shower, and it all had to do with the beautiful, cool as hell woman whose dorm you were in. You truly didn’t know when this would happen again, so maybe you just wanted to experience it in its entirety. Despite these wishes, your body protested against staying up for much longer as you stepped out of the bathroom, leaving a steamy room behind you.

It even protested as you set your things in a corner of her room, turning to realize that there was only one bed in the room. Shuri, presumably seeing your reaction and the way you looked at her bed, stood up. She motioned slightly to the bed.

“Oh, you can have the bed. I have enough covers to make a pretty comfortable pallet on the floor.”

Pushing a loose part of your bonnet off of your forehead, you met her in the middle of the room. She seemed almost a little surprised as you approached her, but you only looked up at her while occasionally glancing at the bed in question.

“Hell no! What? You’re not sleeping on the floor, Shuri. Not in your own room. I’ll sleep on the floor-”

“If you think you’re sleeping on the floor when you’re my guest, then you’re delusional, sweetheart.” She had the nerve to step closer, prompting the need to tilt your head a little further back. Her smirk spoke words you were almost scared to think, too afraid that you’d be reading too much into it. But the way she leaned over you, both of your individual spaces becoming one, had your face heating up. It also had you thinking nonsense- some of it slipping out before you could stop it.

“Then we’ll both sleep on the bed. Or I sleep on the floor.”

Her eyes narrowed at you for a second and maybe, just maybe, you were trippin’...but you could have sworn you saw your eyes flicker to the lower half of your face. It was in between one blink and the next, and yours were pretty slow from exhaustion, so you didn’t know what to think.

“It’s a deal. We’ll share the bed.” She emphasized her words by raising a hand into the small space between you two, offering it to you. With an eye roll, not an unkind one, you took her hand and shook it once. After letting go, she stepped back, motioning to the bed.

“Go ahead and pick your side. I’m going to hop in the shower.”

You didn’t make a move towards the bed until she had disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind her, and even then, you hesitantly walked towards it. It looked so damn comfortable, and you were so damn tired…

It didn’t take much self-convincing to grab your charger and locate the nearest outlet before crawling into…into Shuri’s bed. You turned on your side, graciously taking one of her pillows and tucking it under your head before pulling up your text messages.

It took a few seconds to send a text to Imani, one that simply said how much you were thinking of her and how you hoped she would feel better soon. You placed your phone on the table beside the bed before letting yourself get comfortable.

You wanted so badly to wait for Shuri to exit the bathroom. Maybe you two could stay up, talking, laughing. Or maybe she would just want to go to sleep, something your body was screaming at you to do.

In the end, your body won. The subtle smell of something that was undeniably Shuri paired with the soothing sound of the shower was enough for you to knock out. Well, for the most part. You were still awake enough to hear the bathroom door open and Shuri step out.

You heard her footsteps pause as she realized that you were close to falling asleep, and upon wrenching one eye open, you could see her sneaking around her own room in an effort to not wake you up.

“I’m not sleep yet.” You wondered if your voice sounded as tired as you thought it did. Shuri didn’t stop moving around. In fact, she merely glanced at you while grabbing her own bonnet, carefully pulling it over her curls before settling into the spot beside you.

She reached over to the lamp, turning it off, and then she was laying on her side and facing you. You sent her a tired smile, your eyes slipping closed once more. When you spoke, your voice was basically a whisper.

“Thanks again…for letting me stay.”

“No need to thank me. I wanted to help.”

Your head nodded where it rested on the pillow. The sound of soft shuffling hit your ears, yet your eyes wouldn’t open again. Next time Shuri spoke, it seemed as if her voice was louder. No…closer.

“Y/N.”

“Hmm?”

“What soap do you use?”

There was a pause as you willed your mind to remember the scent you had been using for the last few months- one that quickly became your favorite.

“Um…I think it's called…cherry almond twirl? No, swirl. ‘S a black owned company. Hunny Bunny. Yeah.”

You felt a puff of air on your face, but were too out of it to recognize that she was laughing at your groggy voice. The gentle pressure of something on your hand that rested between you two broke through the exhaustion that clouded your mind, but it only seemed to relax you more.

The tendrils of sleep were slowly curling around your consciousness, dragging it down until you were almost completely unconscious.

“Hm. I like it.”

“Me too.”

Silence descended over the room only to be broken not even a minute later by a gasp coming from your mouth followed by your eyes snapping open. Shuri’s face was closer than you had expected it to be, but you didn’t bother moving away. You didn’t want to move away.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?”

You lifted your head off of the pillow slightly, squinting to find her eyes in the darkness of the room.

“You never told me about what happened today. You didn’t have a good day, and when I asked if you wanted to talk about it, you said later. It’s later.”

Shuri couldn’t keep quiet as she laughed, shaking her head where it rested on her pillow. That gentle pressure you had felt on your hand returned, and you were quick to realize that it was Shuri’s hand resting atop yours. Her thumb rubbed across your knuckles, a soothing motion that had your eyes fluttering.

“It can wait until tomorrow. You know you’re ready to go to sleep.”

The yawn that you turned and let out into the pillow answered her assumption perfectly. Your eyes had closed when you yawned, and they didn’t open again.

“Okay. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

The smile on Shuri’s face radiated fondness and a softness that no one else on campus had seen as she watched your breaths even out. Even as she was sure that you were asleep, she continued to rub your hand, the motion that had put you to sleep relaxing her more and more.

You weren’t awake to hear her words, but she spoke them nonetheless into the darkened room.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

Next Part

I hope you all enjoyed this part! Fun fact...I transferred all of this from google docs to tumblr, then as I was rereading it, I decided to add more. Sooo it went from 5.7k to a cool 6k.

You remember what I said in the first author’s note......

Stay safe, y’all! <3

#hbcu!shuri #shuri #shuri udaku #shuri x reader #shuri x you #shuri black panther #shuri oneshot #shuri imagine #shuri drabble #shuri headcanon #black panther #wakanda forever #black panther imagines #black panther oneshots #black panther fanfic #shuri fanfic #shuri x black!reader #shuri x fem!reader #NTM

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loulouwrites · 6 months

Text

Secrets . Tommy Shelby

summary: tommy shelby is dead, and his life has just begun

warnings: angst, talk of death, grief, post season 6, abuse, discussions of domestic violence, unedited,tommy shelby having a normal job? lmk if i missed any!

word count: 5k

Death was no stranger to Thomas Shelby.

He had killed more men than he could count, he had lost more friends than he cared to remember, and he had died six months ago - at least, that's what everybody thought.

He wondered if he should have felt more guilty. He was sure his family had grieved him - he hoped they had, anyway - but he would not blame them if they hadn't.

He imagined, as they grieved them, relief also passed through them, he imagined them feeling guilty for thinking such a thing. He knew Ada would feel terrible, shake the thought out of her head, but it would be there.

Thomas Shelby was dead, and that meant his terrible legacy died with him.

He didn't feel anything when he thought about his family's reaction, because his was the same. He grieved the loss of himself, he grieved those he loved that were still living, knowing he would never see them again. He grieved the dead, his dead wife, his precious daughter that was taken before her life truly began, and he grieved that he was not going to see them for a long time. But, admist his grief, that wave of relief washed over him, he felt his stomach untwist, he felt the weight on his shoulders disappear, and for the first time in a long time, he felt free.

For the first time in his life, he was exactly where he needed to be.

Alone.

Nobody here knew his real name, nobody knew what he had done, and most importantly, nobody cared.

The first month he had has been dead, he had met a group of travellers, they had welcomed him into their camp with open arms and open bottles of cheap whiskey. He had been lucky they didn't recognise him, the community being so small, but by some miracle, they didn't.

He didn't stay long, the group was too insular, and he knew it was only a matter of time before they ran into a group who did know who he was, and who would tell anybody who would listen that the dead Thomas Shelby OBE, was not actually dead.

The second month, he had travelled north and had worked on the shipyards in the North East. They were used to all kinds of people travelling there for work and leaving after a few months to move on to bigger and better things - he had lasted two weeks.

Thomas Shelby was no fool. He had no need to work jobs on shipyards or factories. He had given his businesses away, he had buried his titles with him, but there was always Shelby money somewhere, hidden in different parts of Birmingham, money that was meant to stay hidden.

Enough to allow him live comfortably for the rest of his life.

The third and fourth months were spent collecting that money and trying to find something to do with it.

He was not a man that was made to relax. He didn't enjoy sitting, or reading, or any leisurely activities, he was born to work. He had always been like that, always working towards something, always reaching towards a goal, but he had done everything a man could do, and now, it was time to rest.

He liked living in the countryside. He had thought it might be too dangerous, too many nosy neighbours and friendly questions, but not too many people passed through, and those that did didn't care about where he came from, they tended to just ask him for directions to the nearest town.

He lived a lonely life, and he liked it that way.

He did have one friend. When solitude became too much, even for him, he would venture the two miles to the nearest house, where a charming elderly widow named Pearl lived.

Pearl was nearing seventy-five. She had lived for two centuries, she had seen a queen die, a king crowned, she had seen her sons shipped off to war and never return, and she had seen many liars in her time. And yet, she did not suspect the nice man who lived close by to be anything but an honourable, young man.

Pearl's husband had died almost twenty years ago, and she had seen the look of a bereft spouse on Tommy Shelby's face the moment she had seen him - but she never asked him about it. They didn't talk much over the dinners Pearl would prepare, they didn't really need to, they had both talked enough in their time.

It was a chilly night when Tommy approached Pearl's little cottage. He always came to dinner on the last Sunday of the month, how that habit had formed, he had no idea.

The old woman had greeted him with a smile at the door, waving him inside where it was warm and inviting, the smell of her cooking a warm welcome.

He had barely sat down on the wooden chair at the foot of the table when a crash came from the adjacent kitchen, and he had shot the woman fussing over him a questioning look, to which he shrugged.

"I'm sorry, Pearl," a woman's voice called from the kitchen, the door swinging open "I broke two of your plates." The woman stopped in the doorway when she noticed Tommy sat at the table, her eyebrows furrowing slightly.

Pearl waved a dismissive hand at the woman, patting Tommy on the shoulder and waving her over to the table, encouraging her to take a seat.

"It's only a couple of plates," Pearl said, "I have too many, anyways." She pointed to the woman that had gingerly sat down to the right of Tommy, introducing her before disappearing into the kitchen to plate up their dinner, "she's a family friend and will be staying with me for a while."

"Pearl has spoke of you very fondly, Tom." The woman smiled, leaning forward in her chair.

Tommy hadn't bothered to change his forename.

"I'm glad to hear it," Tommy grabbed the glass of water that Pearl had placed on the table before he had arrived, "she hasn't mentioned you before, though."

Tommy was good at reading people, always had been, and he didn't miss the way the woman's red painted lips tightened, her smile slightly straining at his words.

"I should be offended." She let out a huff of laughter, "I always thought Pearl and I were close."

"Not as close as I am with Pearl." Tommy joked, noticing the woman's posture relax as she leaned back in her chair.

"Yes, well, Pearl makes friends very easily. I don't think she has ever met stranger."

Tommy smiled at the woman's words, his eyes flickering across her face. She was pretty, her makeup was perfectly applied to her face and her hair was immaculately styled, even the red varnish on her nails was perfect.

She shifted under his gaze, and Tommy realised he hadn't spoken in at least a minute, and he cleared his throat, embarrassed at what he was sure she thought was him leering.

The awkward atmosphere was thankfully broken by Pearl reentering the room, her hands full as she balanced three plates in her arms. Tommy was quick to jump out, taking the plates from the older woman and setting them on the table.

The dinner conversation was more lively than it usually was when Tommy visited, Pearl seemingly thrilled at having another presence at the table, so much so, the two younger people in the room could barely get a word in for the entire meal.

Pearl had excused herself after dinner, claiming it was too late for a woman her age, and insisting her two friends make themselves a cup of tea before Tom headed home.

The clattering of cups on saucers were all that could be heard in the living room, the awkward tension returning as they sat on the sofa.

She reached over to the side table, retrieving a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, offering one to Tommy, which he declined with a shake of his head, though he did inhale extra hard when the smoke drifted his way.

"You and Pearl have become quite close." She said eventually, flicking the ashes of her cigarette into the crystal ashtray on the coffee table.

"Oh, we're the best of friends." Tommy nodded, his voice flat, but his eyes carrying a glimmer of humour that she clearly picked up on, her lips curling into a smile.

"I'm almost jealous."

"Of me?" Tommy raised his eyebrows, "or of Pearl?"

Her laugh was one of the best things he had heard in a long time.

"I suppose it must be nice having a friend, it's so rural here, it must get lonely."

"Loneliness isn't always a bad thing." Tommy muttered, and she didn't miss the bitterness in his tone.

"I suppose you're right," she sighed, taking a drag of her cigarette, "as long as you choose it."

Tommy hummed in response, leaning back into the cushions of the sofa. "Why are you here?" He didn't mean for the question to sound so abrupt, he meant to ask it in a friendly manner, instead it came out like an interrogation, and her eyebrows raised in surprised.

"Pearl is an old family friend, she offered me somewhere to stay for a while."

"For a while?" Tommy asked, "won't your husband miss you?"

He flinched at his words. Subtle.

"I'm not married," she offered him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, "what about you? Pearl told me you live alone."

"Widowed." Tommy shrugged, and she nodded in response, but she didn't say anything, she didn't offer him her condolences, or ask what happened, and he would be eternally grateful for that.

He saw himself out a few moments later, thanking her for the tea, and telling her to thank Pearl for the lovely meal.

"It was very nice to meet you...Tom..."

"Smith." Tommy answered from the front door.

He had never had a very good imagination.

◇─◇──◇─◇

He saw her again three days later. It was Wednesday when she arrived at his door, holding a basket of rock cakes in her hand, pushing past him into his house before he had time to protest.

The house was unbearably plain. He hadn't bothered to decorate the place, keeping the furniture that was there when he had purchased it. He watched as she took in the living room, her head moving around, taking in the bare walls and dated carpet.

He imagined it looked strange, there was not one personal touch in the entire house, no paintings, no photographs, just the daily newspaper thrown on the table in the corner.

"I love what you've done with the place." Her tone was so serious, Tommy almost thought she was being genuine, and his eyes widened until she turned her head to meet his gaze, a smirk on her perfectly painted list.

"I've been known to have an eye for interior design." He smirked back, and she snorted at his words.

"Pearl sent me." She held up the basket in her hand, "she made too many."

"You'd think she would no portion control by now." He said, taking the basket from her and setting it on the table, next to the unread newspaper.

"I think she made the specially for you." She smiled, "it's nice."

"It is." Tommy agreed and she began walking around the living room, a frown on her face.

"What do you do?" She asked eventually, her tone incredulous. He frowned at her words, his face questioning. "I mean...there are no books, no writing materials...what do you do all day?"

Tommy considered his response, but what could he say? 'I spend all my time pondering every mistake I have ever made?' 'All I do is wonder what my family are doing at this very moment?' 'I wish I was actually dead?'

He just shrugged.

"Do you not get bored?" She sounded truly concerned about him.

"Only boring people get bored." He told her, his mother had told him that when he was young.

"Now I see why you're so fond of Pearl. She's the only entertainment you have."

"She's more than enough." Tommy joked dryly, and she smirked at him, a knowing look on her face.

"Well...have a good day." She made her way to his front door, "God knows how."

The door had closed behind her before he could respond.

He didn't go and see Pearl that night, instead choosing to walk through the empty fields surrounding his property. He enjoyed the peaceful atmosphere at night here. The sky was clear, there was no city fog or grime that hid the stars in the sky, the air was crisp and fresh, not assaulting his lungs as he walked. It allowed him time to think, but he didn't think about the bad things outside, those were reserved for the confines of his house.

When he was out in the calm of nature, he allowed himself to think about the good things, few as they were.

When he returned to his house, he almost missed the object that had been placed on his front step, he would have if he hadn't tripped over it when he went to unlock his front door.

He picked up the object as if it were a bomb, rather than the leather-bound book it was, holding it between his thumb and forefinger with a frown on his face.

Jane Eyre.

He couldn't help but huff out a laugh.

◇─◇──◇─◇

"Did you like it?" She asked him two weeks later. Tommy didn't know they had ended up walking together every lunchtime on a Saturday, but he couldn't find a reason to complain.

"No." He huffed, "I didn't like Jane Eyre either, by the way."

She rolled her eyes at his words, not phased by his clear displeasure. She had started leaving books on his doorstep every week. The first had been Jane Eyre, which Tommy had read in only three days, not pleased by the story one bit. The second had been a Charles Dickens novel that he had already read years ago, and he didn't like it the first time either.

"I'm starting to think you don't like much." She grumbled, nudging his shoulder with hers as they walked down the country road.

"That's not true, at all." He said, placing a hand on her lower back, rubbing circles there. They both stopped walking, heads turned to face each other, he leaned his head in, their foreheads almost touching. He noted the nervous look in her eyes, how her body stiffened under his touch, "I like Pearl." He removed his hand from her back, continuing his stroll, smirking when he heard her modest heels clicking against the pavement as she tried to catch up with him.

"You have a terrible sense of humour." She huffed, a smile on her lips.

◇─◇──◇─◇

She became a regular fixture in Tommy's life. He saw her more often than he saw Pearl, for she would venture to his house whenever she felt like it, asking him his opinions on the books she had given him, sometimes she would turn up with flowers and plants to 'brighten the room'.

He didn't mind it as much as he thought he would. She wasn't an imposition in his life, she didn't ask him questions about his life, she didn't pry when his mind seemed to be elsewhere, she kept their conversations to the books they had read and their upcoming meals at Pearl's house.

If he were still a suspicious man, he would have found it strange.

Why was she so disinterested in his past?

Was it because she didn't want him to be interested in hers?

But, he wasn't that man anymore, and he learned to be grateful for their encounters, no matter how shallow they were.

She eyed him suspiciously from across his kitchen table, the china cup hiding the bottom half of her face. She had become quite good at reading him over the months, she could tell when he wanted to say something, and when he didn't.

"What's on your mind?" She placed the cup down, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Where are you from?" He asked her, his expression blank, not suspicious, but not completely uninterested, either.

"South."

"South." Tommy repeated, nodding his head.

"Where are you from?"

"North."

"North." She replicated his nod.

"Why did you move here?"

"I got sick of the city, Pearl offered me a place to stay at hers."

"You didn't work?"

"No." She sighed, bringing her cup of tea to her lips again.

"You've never been married and you didn't work. Family money?"

"Something like that." She shrugged and Tommy could see the irritation growing on her face.

"Must have been a lonely life."

"You'd know, wouldn't you?" She stood up from her seat them, brushing out the small creases in her green dress, her mouth opened as if she wanted to say something, but she shook her head, grabbing her handbag and leaving the kitchen.

Tommy felt guilty, but he didn't try to stop her.

◇─◇──◇─◇

He didn't see her for another few days. He knew she was avoiding him, it didn't surprise him when she didn't show up for their afternoon walk the next day, or when Pearl informed him she hadn't been feeling well so she wouldn't be joining them for dinner.

Pearl didn't miss the way his shoulder's deflated when she informed him.

Tommy didn't miss the ghost of a smirk on Pearl's face.

He saw her again exactly one week after she had stormed out of his kitchen. He had ventured into the nearest town to buy the essentials he had run out of over the past month, when he saw her, she was exiting the bakery.

She stood out like a sore thumb in the rural town. Her blue button up dress was cinched at the waist, the hat she wore was perfectly placed on top of the fashionable waves of her hair.

She didn't look like she belonged in the countryside, better suited for the nicer streets of London, or even, New York.

Tommy supposed he didn't particularly fit in either.

He approached her as she was about to enter the post office, offering to take the string shopping bag from her arms, which she declined with a polite smile.

He followed her into the post office, lagging behind due to the multiple women exiting, thanking him for holding the door.

He stood by the entrance, watching as passed along letters to the man at the desk, reaching to her purse to pay for the postage, plus a pack of cigarettes and some cherry drops.

He held the door open for her when she left, struggling to keep up with her quick steps.

"I thought you had no family." Tommy said, her pace slowing, making it easier for him to walk by her side.

"I didn't say that." She muttered, her gaze fixed ahead of her, "I said I had no husband. We all have family, Mr Smith."

"No all of us."

"Aren't you a widow?" She frowned, turning her head slightly to meet his gaze, "you had no children?"

The word got stuck in Tommy's mouth, "no." He flinched at how small his voice sounded.

"No brothers, sisters, parents?"

"No."

She didn't pry, she just nodded, letting a comfortable silence take over as they walked home.

She invited him in when they got to Pearl's cottage, informing him the elderly woman was in Brighton for the weekend, visiting her sister who had recently fallen ill.

He had gracefully accepted, helping her unpack the numerous shopping bags in the kitchen, and offering to help her cook dinner, but she shook him off, telling him she cooked better alone.

She wasn't as good of a chef as Pearl, Tommy noted as he struggled to cut his lamb, the meat slipping along the plate with the force.

She grimaced when the glasses shook on the table, a clear indication she had cooked the meat half an hour too long.

"I'm sorry." She sighed, "I've never been a good cook, or good hostess."

He waved a dismissive hand at her, finally gathering a cut of lamb on his fork, trying not to chew too aggressively under her watchful gaze.

"You don't have to eat it." She told him, setting her knife and fork down, "God knows I'm not going to."

"It's...good." Tommy said, trying to discreetly pick out the tough meat from his teeth with his tongue, she shot him an unimpressed look, and he huffed a laugh. "I've had worse."

"Hopefully Pearl will be home soon, I'm going to starve if she isn't."

"I could do with some starvation, I've had to get my trousers let out since I moved here."

"I lied." She said suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, and Tommy's eyes squinted in confusion.

"I'd say you were truthful...you really aren't a good cook."

"No." She groaned, sipping the red wine she had poured for herself, "I lied to you...about my life."

"I'm not trying to be funny, love, but you haven't told me anything about your life."

Her expression relaxed somewhat as she looked at him, but he could still see the worry in her eyes.

"I did. I said I've never been married."

She rose up from the table, pacing the small dining area with a sheepish expression on her face. Tommy breathed out heavily, gently placing his knife and fork on his plate as he watched her.

"You have been married?" He asked, not enjoying the way his stomach faintly twisted. He barely knew this woman, he had no right to feel betrayed because she had lied to him.

"I have been." She muttered, and his eyes narrowed further, but he didn't respond. "I mean...I am? Still...I think?"

"You think?" Tommy finally spoke, his voice laced with a mix of confusion and concern. He stood up from the table, mirroring her pacing movements as he tried to make sense of it all. "What do you mean you think you're still married? You either are or you aren't."

"I am." She spoke with conviction, halting her pacing to face him from the opposite side of the table. "I am still married."

"Why did you lie?" Tommy's words came out harsh, though he truly didn't mean them to. He had no right to judge her, he was just as bad, but he couldn't help but feel offended by her deception.

She looked down, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the edge of her wine glass. "I didn't mean to lie, it was just easier than the truth."

Tommy knew exactly what she meant.

"My husband wasn't kind," she continued, "he didn't physically harm me, but it would only have been a matter of time. He would find me if I stayed with my family, so I came here."

She didn't owe him an explanation, and Tommy was rather floored she had given him one.

He knew what the old him would do.

He could feel the primal, violent desires he thought had died rise up inside of him.

But, he wasn't that man anymore.

"Why are you telling me this?" He asked her finally, moving to stand directly in front of her.

She shrugged at his words, "I don't know. I just don't like secrets."

Tommy felt a pang in his stomach.

"Everybody has secrets, love."

"Even you?"

"Even me."

◇─◇──◇─◇

Something changed following their conversation over dinner. Whilst Tommy assumed she would pull away from him, they seemed to get closer over the weeks.

Tommy wasn't sure whether he wanted to spend so much time with her, but he didn't put up much of a fight. He should have felt guilty about it, she had told him her secret, and he was still clinging on to his.

There were many times he thought about telling her, like on the walk they took where it started to rain and they had to run back to his, or when she brought him extra scones Pearl had made, or when she was lying with her head against his bare chest on a Sunday morning, but he never did.

They were just passing time.

That's what she had said before she left his house one morning. They were both lonely, neither of them had anything better to do, they were doing each other a favour.

"How did you get your money?" She asked him as she buttoned up her blue dress.

He choked on his cigarette smoke.

"What do you mean?" He asked, once his wheezing had subsided, standing from the bed to get dressed.

"You bought a cute little home in the countryside, but you don't work...I'm curious."

There was nothing hidden behind her smile. She wasn't asking for any reason other than wanting to know more about him.

The guilt returned to his gut.

"Gambling." He shrugged, buttoning up his shirt, his cigarette dangling from his lips.

"Gambling?"

"Horses...got lucky."

It wasn't exactly a lie.

◇─◇──◇─◇

Tommy enjoyed his mornings with her. He enjoyed the simplicity of waking up slowly, lighting a cigarette as he looked down at her sleeping form. He always woke up before her - he didn't sleep well, she was a master at it - and he liked it that way.

"I feel like we're abandoning Pearl." He told her, watching as she rubbed sleep from her eyes at the kitchen table, accepting the cup of tea he placed down in front of her, raising an eyebrow when she declined the toast and marmalade, reaching for a biscuit off the plate in the middle of the table instead.

"Tea and biscuits is the best breakfast you can have." She had told him.

"You're abandoning Pearl." She said, "I live with her."

"You haven't been home in days."

"That's your fault." She told him, "you're the one that trapped me here."

"I trapped you here, did I?"

"You make such good cups of tea, it makes it hard to go home."

Tommy hummed, a small smile playing on his lips. "Pearl does use too much milk."

"Exactly. You've spoiled me." She smirked, standing from her seat. "But you're right...I should go home." She brushed his shoulder when she passed him, "I'll see you around, Mr Smith."

He made sure to kiss her before she left.

◇─◇──◇─◇

The three days without her allowed Tommy time to think.

He enjoyed his time with her, but he could never seem to think clearly when he was in her presence. Her charm and wit would cloud any thought he had until he was utterly consumed by her.

It wasn't much different when she was gone, either.

His thoughts were still entirely made up of her - he wondered if it was because her floral perfume still lingered on his pillow - but he was able to properly assess the past few months.

He remembered how hollow he had been. How there was nothing to think about but the ghosts of his past, how he would tremble when he remembered the things he had seen, and the things he had done.

He remembered how she had changed that.

Now the haunting memories only came back in hushed whispers, whispers he could easily ignore when her laugh was so much louder, her presence much more dominating.

He wondered if he could love somebody he barely knew. Somebody who didn't know him at all.

Of course she knew small things.

She knew he preferred jam on his toast, she knew he didn't like sugar in his tea - a fact she had been horrified to learn - and she knew he was haunted.

She never asked him about it, but she knew. She couldn't ignore the way the nightmares made him shake, she couldn't ignore his body feeling like a furnace under her perfectly manicured fingers.

She didn't ask him, but he offered her an answer anyways.

He paced the floor of his bedroom, his breathing finally returning to normal, his eyes meeting hers from where she was sat up on the bed, her eyes concerned.

"France." He had muttered, returning to his spot in bed beside her.

She said nothing, instead, laying her head back on the pillow, her hand resting on his chest, above his rapidly beating heart.

It wasn't exactly a lie.

He pondered the timeline of their relationship as he walked to Pearl's house on a chilly Sunday evening.

They didn't know each other, not really, that was the beauty of it. She didn't know who Tommy really was, but she knew enough to feel safe with him. He didn't know much about her past, but he knew enough to know she could be trusted.

He didn't know much about her.

Yet, Tommy loved her anyway.

It was a strange feeling. He felt lighter, he felt happier, but there was still the guilt.

She had not offered him more information than was needed.

He had outright lied to her.

And so, as he approached the neighbouring house, Tommy decided he would tell her. He would tell her his real name, he would tell her what he had done, and he would tell her loved her.

There was no anxiety when he got to the front door, knocking lightly, even though Pearl had told him there was no need to. There was no need to feel anxious, because he was sure she felt the same - and he was certain, no matter what, she would not betray him.

Pearl greeted him with a smile, ushering him in as she always did. His eyes darted around the living room as he shrugged off his coat, the room looked the same as it always did, but something felt different.

He offered to help Pearl, knowing she would decline as always, pushing him towards the dining area.

He frowned when he got to the table, his eyes lingering on it for a moment too long.

It was set for two.

He glanced at the older woman in a silent questioning, and she sighed heavily under his gaze.

"She went home, son." She said, reaching over to rub his arm, a maternal comfort.

He knew she could see the confusion on his face, whether she could see the devastation and betrayal, he did not know.

"When?" He managed to ask, his throat dry.

"Two days ago." Pearl said, gently pushing Tommy into his seat at the head of the table. "Husband came up to get her, took her back."

He wished the woman had punched him in the stomach.

"And you let her go?" His voice held no venom, he was simply deflated in the chair.

"You can't force a woman to stay somewhere she doesn't want to, my love. No matter how much you want to."

She didn't wait for him to respond, leaving the room to plate up their dinner. Tommy's eyes stayed fixed on the place she would be sitting if she were here, his eyes not wavering from the empty chair.

It would have been easy to be sad.

It would have even easier to be angry.

But, he felt nothing.

She was just another ghost that would haunt him in his nightmares, and if that were the only way he would see her again, he looked forward to them.

He could not feel betrayed by her.

He was the liar, after all.

#tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder fanfic

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alwaysshallow · 7 months

Text

coffee at midnight, part 5

John "Soap" MacTavish x f!reader

After a time that you've spent on a mission, it's time to relax a little. (3,5k)

1 | 2 | 3 | 4

AO3 version

Being on obligatory leave was weird for you.

It's not like you were a workaholic (well, maybe a little) – you appreciated free time if it was given, most of the time, even if it was weird. You were used to battlefield, to keep your eyes open and being on alert, so when you were at home, every little thing distracted you. Knocking to your door, wood cracking, everything had your attention, which was... irritating, but you got used to it after being at home for more than two days.

But you've had at least two months of sitting at your ass in the apartment. You needed something to do, or else you'd get crazy; mostly you kept yourself busy, having a purpose. Certain routine.

Maybe that's why military was so good for you – because you had one thing in mind. Being the best version of yourself, and in that category was a lot of different things. Protecting, killing if you need to, making people feel safe, risking your life multiple times. Adrenaline usually pumped in you like crazy, but it was your jam, no one else's.

As Laswell's daughter (adopted, but that really didn't matter) you were raised like that – to be the best to not give a shit, to believe in your capabilities. She'd remind you multiple times, and every time you replied with small smile and "I know, mom". You wouldn't ever actually forget the talk she gave you when she found out you want to follow her path.

Million questions if you're sure, if you know what you are doing. And you knew. It wasn't only because Kate taught you that way, to help people, to bring good out in this world. It was a fascination about the job, begging her in your teenage years to bring you somewhere; she didn't, her limit was you meeting price. Fifteen and curious, you asked him like crazy about his missions, and he answered your every question with undeniable amusement in his eyes.

Not because you were nosy, but because you were so curious. So, so curious, and it somehow made him happy.

Despite those talks that you're good for everything, it was hard to believe, while you had to prove yourself in front of everyone, work twice as hard and sometimes it wasn't enough too. No matter how beaten up you were, how tired you were.

It wasn't a secret that women in military had a tougher route than men, and you liked to be delusional about it until you weren't actually here. The amount of sexism you experienced, inappriopate comments about where your place is, you couldn't keep up with counting.

Kitchen was their answer, of course. You ignored them most of the time, in military no one would survive without thick skin, but... sometimes it got to you.

Especially when tasks were based on teamwork.

You hated moments where they acted like nothing's wrong in front of your supervisor – the minute she or he was gone, situation changed dramatically and you apparently weren't a comrade, but "just a woman". Climbing somewhere with them a bit lower than you occured in comments about your ass, shooting exercises with trying to get a rise out of you when they tried to correct you.

It was nice experience though, shooting lessons, when you hit ten point mark, and they just watched with a bit open lips. The satisfaction was insane, considering that they almost got them all too.

Almost, a key word.

Some were actually nice – it wasn't like all of them bugged you and you hated the entirety of men in military. It was just... the effect of those toxic ones, like everywhere; one person that behaved badly, could give an ick. You started being reserved, sticking to women friends (which was hard too, not only because of number but also because of competition) and men that were normal.

As normal as you could be in military.

With time, they got bored and you could function better. Could be as well the effect of the first mission in Afghanistan since from that time they treated you like a human. They were so eager to go, and after coming back several months later, they seemed like different people.

War changes everyone, you were different too. Listening about war, training; something completely different than actually taking a part in it. Pictures of buildings in pieces were nothing, comparing to real life experience, where you marched with weapon in your hand, experiencing real life tragedy.

Sometimes you wondered where people failed – a war like this shouldn't happen, ever.

Over time, military gave you an opportunity to learn something; specialize, as they said. Your mums told you that taking their money is more than responsibility (you couldn't do anything else but laugh at it), so you took something. Something that was interesting enough to dip in – and that was on being IT specialist with a bit of Cyber Operations.

All in all – hacking, protecting your own systems and going through others without being caught was something that you absolutely loved and the fact military paid for it was more than rewarding. It was something you were good at, your skills were your baby to care about and be proud of when someone needed your help; even if it was late at night and you were already sleeping. Firewalls to crack, intel to get, everything could wait. Adrenaline in your veins pumped even more when you had to do it in a field, a gun in your free hand, while another cracked the code.

Happened a tad too much, but you managed – those capabilities brought John Price to you, proposing you the job, not because of his friendship with your mother, but because you were good. Good with your shooting skills, cooperating. Because you had something that he needed very much.

Best compliment you could get, so that's why you were more than confused what to do in your spare time. Two whole months (or more) without being in the field, where you belong.

Wasn't the easiest to turn your routine upside down. From active and in field, to resting and at home, but things were easier when you started watching your show that you abandoned a while ago; of course because of work. Minutes turned to hours of binge-watching Criminal Minds (comes with a job, right?) and ordering something from your local restaurant every now and then because you didn't feel like cutting.

Especially with your arm that still shook a bit and your actions could result in a very bad way, so you chose the safest option for your own safety.

Two weeks passed longer than you expected though, and you're just... well, not only mad, but also bored to hell. You even texted your mother if they don't need any digital help or something, just something to keep yourself busy with because, frankly, you were ready to work again, to go out, to shoot.

Not your arm, though. Your arm was pretty mad at you most of the time and it happened to strike you every now and then, when you forgot your meds.

Mostly, the good thing about your days were when something interesting in TV shows happened or if you were waiting for a food delivery guy that knew you probably better than his own mother at this point. Every little knock to your door was loved, and every time you opened with enthusiasm and a small smile.

Except that one time, after almost two weeks, it wasn't a delivery man with your Thai food that you've waited so patiently for almost an hour.

"Evenin', Rosa. Missed me?"

When you made him his coffee (with insane amount of sugar and caramel with whipped cream on top of it, just as he liked it), he told you everything that happened during your absence. Spots that were on map found by you were their magazines, loads of stuff in here; weapons, other plans, some stuff that Price had to translate and check, but it was valuable.

You couldn't be more satisfied when he told you this, feeling like a kid on Christmas day; less happy you were when he remarked that they don't need your help and your captain pretty much sent you his regards.

Not what you liked, obviously, but it was something.

After explaining one thing, it came down to another – what he was actually doing here since it was still a full-ass mission, not a vacation. Hell, you won't forget the lazy smile he gave you back then, his head tilted to the side.

He looked like a Cheshire cat.

"'s my duty off the field, keepin' you all safe 'n cozy." he winked, ruffling your hair. "Y'know, gotta take care of my girl, yeah? Sucks without your ass around."

You barely managed not to roll your eyes. "Just tell me."

"That's the pure truth."

Well, it wasn't. After laughing at your reaction once again, he told you about Price saying something about sending some of the boys on "vacations" to regenerate properly – boys, Gaz and Soap only. In normal circumstances, it wouldn't be even an option, but since they called a special unit to help them earlier, they had even too many people, so he decided to treat the youngest.

Considerate of him, really. Another reason Soap believed in, was sending him home to take care of you, but you just laughed at that. He didn't know how to take care of himself, taking care of you? Hell, it sounded like a fable that you're feeding kids with.

At least, you thought like this until the next day, when he showed again at your door with groceries in bag, his smile wide. He was gonna cook for you, and the minute you opened, he entered your apartment like it was the most casual thing ever (it was). You said nothing, when he opened fridge and complained on amount of everything, asking how could you eat so little.

You were eating quite normally; Johnny, on the other hand, had eating habits that occasionally horrified you, but given his profession and his strength... everything explained itself.

What horrified you more though, was his cooking skills. Not like they were bad, but you really didn't want him around fire or things that he could easily burn; that's probably why you've decided to make simple sandwiches with him.

Well, it wasn't quite making from your side, considering you only gave him a few ingredients or told him where your knives were. He wouldn't let you do a damn thing, and even if it irritated you badly, he literally couldn't care less.

"'m here for you, hen. Don't complain." he pointed at you.

You'd lie if you'd say you didn't enjoy it, Soap's company; you were almost grateful that Price sent him on leave. That guy wasn't only a walking chaos, but made everything around himself like it, and that was exactly what you needed. Exactly what you needed to break with that boring routine, driving you crazy. Burnt eggs, a lot of dirty plates (he promised to take care of it later, and you both knew the best he's gonna do, is just loading the dishwasher), TV shows that you loved to comment with him. He always had snarky comments about contestants in Rupaul's Drag Race, even if he stated million of times that show is lame.

Yet, he watched with you, so both of you were lame in a cute way, which you were oblivious of. In your dictionary, a word cute, applying to you and soap, didn't exist.

What was shocking in that second visit, was the fact Soap didn't feel like going anywhere from your couch after you've decided to go to sleep. Instead, he asked if you have a sparrow pillow and something to lie on.

"It's not like you have to stay here with me. I'm perfectly capable of staying on my own. Been doing that for almost two weeks now" you said, as with his help, you transformed couch into a cozy place to sleep.

"Mm, just missed ya ass, lass." he pointed at you. "Insufferable little witch you are, y'know?"

"Oh, you love me for that." you rolled your eyes, chuckling.

It shouldn't be surprising to you that "one" time went to multiple times.

Every time he had an excuse to stay – he either was feeling dizzy and heavy after eating something, wanted to spend more time with you or just help you in every day activities. One day he even had a good point; you had to visit the doctor, and he intended to drive you here. Your arm was still too weak, and you needed to rest it, not possibly injure it more since a desire to be back in field was enormous.

With him staying at your place though, came a little more than just his presence – his things. At first it's hard to notice – toothbrush next to yours in cup, some of his clothes, it all felt necessary, he stayed at your place, after all. You started to notice after a few days, though; his PlayStation next to your TV with various games, his clothes in your closet. He even asked you one day if you have better space to place them.

It all felt like he's moving in, not just staying on accident, testing his luck. This motherfucker knew his way with you, and used it all the way, testing your patience because he loved to play with you. Not only competing in games, shooting, military trainings, but in real life.

"You know, your shower head is acting up. Pressure should be high, it's barely coming out at times" Johnny called out from the bathroom. "A man wants just to shower and he can't do it properly."

You laughed, rolling your eyes to yourself. His shower routine. "Annoying, isn't it? I usually don't have time to fix it or call anyone, so..." you shrugged.

"I'll fix it. Not really something to call people on" he huffed, almost offended at your statement; it's something he usually did. Soap didn't really believe in hiring someone to do things, he was sure that he would do these things himself, and not only he'd save money, but he will do it better.

"You will? You know" you turned around, to face the bathroom door "I don't want you to mess it up even-" your voice catched in your throat, mind going completely blank, when you saw him. It felt like God was testing you; Soap in nothing but just white, plushy towel, loosely wrapped around his hips. Any time it could slip and leave you with him all for yourself.

The thought made your cheeks burning hot a little, especially the moment he cocked his eyebrow and leaned against the wall, smirking. He knew how he looked like, how he could easily use it against you, not really trying. Soap's abs and sculped body luring you in, due to years of hard work, military and simply taking care of himself.

A lot of scars just added to image.

"-even more." you finished your previous sentence, clearing your throat.

Somehow, it was very amusing for him, to see you like this. You weren't the type to blush, not in the slightest – after all, you saw everything before; for example, when you stitched him up. How was it different than other times? Military is full of pictures like that.

Yet, there you were. Acting like a girl that saw a man first time without pretty much nothing but a towel, even if the truth was far different from it. Soap was just an eye candy, whether you liked it or not, and it was a big trouble in times.

For a time like this, for example, when he was in your apartment, trying to take care of you, with your towel, using your stuff. His scent was everywhere.

"'m experienced in making things better, don't you worry your pretty head about it" he hummed, placing his hand on your cheek. It looked funny; how big his hand was, but it brought so much comfort to you, that you closed your eyes. "'m gonna take care of my girl, yeah? I told you already."

Nothing came out from you, but just a simple nod. He was so good with words when he wanted to, and you were like a lost puppy, listening to them all, with hope that he meant every one of his promises. And he did – always, if it came down to you, you knew it.

"Good. Now, you have this popcorn ready? Fast&Furious starts literally any minute." he nudged you with his hip, casually taking a sit on the couch.

"Don't you want to put your clothes on first?" you raised an eyebrow.

"Mm. Do I?" he mimicked you, standing up. "Yeah, yeah. Gonna do it, hen, I don't want to deprave you more" Soap whispered to your ear, his body hot, almost skin to skin level. You inhaled some air, sighing just when he disappeared into your room to take his clothes.

It was supposed to ease you, his presence in clothes, but you still had that image of him in that towel only, when your head was leaning against his shoulder during the movie.

xxx

"Him? Helping in kitchen? Cleaning? I had to convince him for months to do that when he lived at my house!"

Since Johnny's mom was finally back from her trip in Spain, he called her in the morning – a simple talk, he said, when you handed him a cup of coffee, still in your pyjamas. You pretty much didn't want to interrupt them, but the moment she asked about you, you had no other choice than participate in discussion as well.

She knew you; impossible not to, considering that you and Johnny were friends for more than a year, serving together, in the same team. You loved talking to her, and she loved talking to you; somehow, you always had topic to talk about (besides her son's behavior, she asked every time – and every time you exaggerated, just to rile him up). Apparently, baking and making ceramic things were something that made your bond go stronger. From time to time, she sent photos of her pottery, and every time, with a warm feeling on your heart, you responded., asking her about technique and stuff like this.

If that would be possible someday, you wanted to meet her so bad, as well as his two sisters. Soap loved his family more than anything in this world, being a big, protective brother, even if his sisters were teenagers, you loved seeing it. Seeing him calling every time he could, seeing him with that little smile when his mom talked about sending him some stuff because he lost weight and he needs to come back to Scotland as soon as possible so she will change that.

More than adorable, honestly.

"Mm, I think the key is to tell him not to do things. Then, he does all that" you laughed, playfully nudging Johnny who rolled his eyes at your implication. "What? Just saying!"

"'st sayin', mhm." he nodded. "I can help when I have to, thank you very much."

"You almost burned my kitchen" you started, chuckling again when he gave you the look "but we appreciate it, yeah."

"Yer just mean. 's all" he pointed at you, wrapping arm around you swiftly, which brought you two closer. His touch almost burned some weird feelings in you, but you brushed them off, smiling to Soap's mother, when her head tilted to the side with a curious expression.

"She's just speaking her mind, John" she laughed, squinting her eyes suddenly.

"You good, ma?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just looking, your hair seems longer?"

He shrugged. "'s normal, I haven't had time to trim it in deployment. Will think about it later"

Conversation ended after another twenty minutes; apparently it was time for her favorite TV show, so Soap ended the call. You sat next to each other in silence for a few minutes, in your phones, scrolling through pages.

"I used to cut my hair in high school" you started, your eyes on his hair "I can cut yours, if you want."

Soap laughed, shaking his hair. "No, thanks."

"Why? It's not like you can't trust my skills!"

"Oh, a ken that. You have a bit wobbly hand, though" he grinned at your eyeroll "and, I think I might keep it this way for a while."

You raised your eyebrow. "You love your mohawk. Thought you're gonna keep it for years, even if you're gonna be a captain or something."

"Aye, probably. 'st testing my options, hen." he stood up, straightening his posture. "Gonna do coffee for us. Pick a movie." he smiled, kissing the top of your head; your cheeks burned red.

You tried to focus on picking a movie, not how the whole gesture made you feel all tingly, but it was almost impossible.

#john soap mactavish #mw2 #soap imagine #soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap x you #johnny mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #soap fluff #johnny mactavish x you #john soap mactavish x reader #call of duty #cod soap #cod fanfic

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shobiolovechild · 25 days

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Hi,.....if you don't mind me asking, can I ask your top 5 (or top 3) favorite characters from Dungeon Meshi? And why you loved them? And your top 5 favorite moments from the series? Sorry if you've answered this question before....Thanks....

hello. i just got like a hell moment trying to select my top 5 characters and moments 'cause i have such a wide love for mutiples scenes/characters that i couldn't decide, but here i go:

CHARACTERS

5. Kabru

love this little man. I'm enamoured by how he loves human interactions since that daydream hour scene with the elves. Is he kinda manipulative? well, maybe. But he's not evil. He's the character that is most like me in terms of personality, so was kinda fun have someone like me. Love talking to people, love interacting, but sometimes i also have those freak out moments inside my head that i definetly try so hard to not show in my face. And, he's pathetic.

4. Fleki

I have no serious reason besides i'm obsessed with her. Actually, i'm gonna confess i LOVE pathetic characters. The most pathetic, with lack of self respect and a questionable morality the best i like them. And that's it.

3. Senshi

I'm a nutricionist and i used him so many times during nutrition education. Love his concern for a balanced diet, how nutrients work, he makes sure to explain why fat is also a important part of our eating habits (unlike some animes). He also tries to think of ways to get izutsumi (a picky eater) to eat. so this make me like him a lot at first, but he totally got me with the time and specially with his backstory.

2. Marcille

she awakened my bloody kink. god. to build your loved one??? piece by piece, bone by bone??? using forbidden ancient magic??? forgetting all the cons, acting on full desire and devotion??? jesus. i could rant all day about her. and you know what? she's such a girl. she's nosy, likes cute things, cute dresses, cute hairstyles. for me she's the enboidment of girl joy.

Laios

one of the greatest main characters of all times. really smart at the same time he's not. but he truly cares about his family and friends. and i got so sentimental with him and shoru, the frustration of thinking you're friends with someone but that person despises you. i think he's a real good written character. loved how his ending wasn't that cliche, and also felt bad for him though. maybe i need a single post just to talk about every trait that i enjoy about him.

MOMENTS

5. senshi backstory

4. falin meeting everybody after coming back to life (again)

3. when even the demon was shocked by the human desires

2. farcille bathroom scene

laios king entrance (+speech)

and that's it. feel free to tell me yours as well.

#got really excited writing this #sorry if its sloopy #dungeon meshi #marcille donato #laios touden #falin touden #senshi

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thesupernaturalhouse · 2 months

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Yeah so what is the hwak feather au

Explain it to me entirely pls

Oh dear God okay- @sunsetcougar YOU you're helping me, incase I missed anything

So, I made a post about dove emily, sunset got inspired and made the hawk feathers au

Which is basically, Adam/lilith was made from dirt, eve form a rid, so Sera made the exocists out of Hawk feathers, cause of their hunting ability and stuff; there were about 27 batches in total, the first being jsut lute and then consisting of about 5-10 on avrage afterwards to make 200

That's the summary of it, but into the lore-

despite Sera literally making these people out of bird feathers she, and Adam and the elder angels, don't like them because their so animalistic so they mostly stay in their nest area aka the barracks

Some have more internalized hatred then others, Lull doesn't talk due to internalizing Adam's words meanwhile Gloria doubles down for example. Lute has the most, because of course she does-

Stuff in canon happens, not much to really say there? Most of this au is pre canon and post canon stuff, so like after the Season 1 finale heaven and Hell are chill cause the xterminations have ended

Lute is the main exrocist to visit hell, to I guess keep heaven up to date and stuff, her and Vaggie end up making up because they realize they aren't in the same flock and vaggie knows that, back then, if she'd seen soemone do it she mightve dine the same to get rid of any disadvantages for the flock, and also competition because her and Lute would spar and 'fight' for 2nd rank all the time

So their cool. Lute ends up falling due to going stir crazy out of grief, there's only so much those cisisys and spars with Vaggie cam do after all. So she falls and her and Vaggie end uo fighting for real where she breaks down and Charlie decides she doesn't exactly liek heaven anymore and the others don't think exemption is worth it if they'll end up in a semi-corrupt place like that

Meanwhile up in heaven the flock is destroying shit because "wtf do you MEAN you made their leader fall!?!?" Emily is the one to tell them beacsue she feels absolutely sick at how and what happened during the trial

Side note, Emily moved out and can't even look Sera in the eye anymore

They end up falling of their own free will and eventually get a nest in the wrath ring due to how closely the sin matches them; wrath being very family oriented and farm work being abundant so they won't go stir crazy or get bored, they do often visit the hotel though

This ends with them following vaggie one day and getting training lessons from Carmilla, who they call 'mother carmine' due to thinking it's a title. Lute is VERY jelouse of it and challenge Carmilla, who does NOT take it seriously and instead asks why they keep calling her moth carmine because someone bursting into your house and yelling that they challenge you "mother carmine to a fight" is anyones breaking point-

They end up having tea and Carmilla explaining family dynamics to Lute, amd ends up learning of the forced parentification she'd been out through via Sera. Her and Lucifer share custody of the strange bird children and start a 'hate sera' club

After this, Emily actually ends up falling because the elders rekauze she's going to end up causing a wave of change they don't like. They blame sir pentious for corrupting her and they both fall, lucifer sensing the presence of an angle goes and finds them and promptly brings them back to the hotel for a teary renuin with pentious and a awkward one with Emily

Sera meanwhile is questioning her life choices and getting a bit more aggressive from the grief and working 24/7, the elders force her to take weeks off at a time due to how bad at gets

Lute and Emily end up bonding, Emily goes downstairs and sees Lute at the hotel and wanting to make a good impression and use her brid nosies she's been forcing down tries to chirp a greeting......she chirps a mating call by accident instead, her and Lute have a class about that and she gets to ehsr a hawk mating call

They are both very much denying their feelings for one another, and also due to Lute being a hawk and Emily being a dove, they don't fully realize their trying to court one another subconsciously until they both do a bunch of research-

They get together after a game at wrath where Emily was watching Lute, who asks to kiss her afterwards

Meanwhile for Carmilla, she's adopted Bish, who turns into Bishop after finding out what nombinary means

Side note, the exorcists have a LOT of fun when they learn about genders and sexualities, soem don't care like lute whose demiromantic, and some do like Gloria whose happy she has a label now, Lulls jsut happy her gf is happy

They also have fun with air dye and stuff like that.....a LOT of paint and hair dye is eaten by them- which prompts stick to bring out a list of what they've eaten. If they were human they'd be dead.

Ahem, back to the main story......actually I think that's it?? I mean right now me and @sunsetcougar are talking about the trials nd how Emily and Lute get together so- that's the timeline for now I guess??

Which, side note about the trial, Lute was chained and muzzled so- angst horrayyyyy

And all the exrocists get therapy, especially Lute who dehuminazes herself a lot, most of the other stuff is like, Emily helping Kute calm down with singing and chirps, trapping Lute to get her on a healthy sleep schedule, etc

So yeha I think thats all for now lol

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel au #hawk feather exorcists au #hazbin hotel exorcists #this took me like 20 minutes #sorry about any bad spelling #supernatural answers

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artoodeetootired · 5 months

Text

how you get the girl (11)

🌌 and that's how it works- that's how you got the girl. 🌌

part i

it is widely known that anakin skywalker excels at nearly everything- except one: how to get the girl of his dreams.

words: ~5.4k (warning: also did not proofread)

aotc anakin skywalker x padawan!ofc (+ besties padme & artoo)

best friends to lovers, miscommunication, a little angst ig?, fluff, whiny emo teenager padawans

Evelyn found herself meditating more aggressively than usual the next morning... with a lightsaber.

After she had finished her perimeter check in just an hour, she resorted to whipping her weapon around in a never-ending storm.

Her mind was too scattered, too dark. It was consumed by feelings she had suppressed for far too long, even though they were inevitable.

The vibrations hummed in the air. and she danced along with it. As she fought the enemy in her mind, she lost herself to the flow of it, letting the Force embody her, and she the Force.

Twirling and thrusting and concentrating, Evelyn reached the peak of her combination and went for the blowing swing.

Only to find resistance on the other end.

Opening her eyes in alarm, she was welcomed with the plague himself, his saber connected ferociously to hers.

Sparks sprouted around them, their blue rays challenging each other as they pushed one another.

"I knew I'd find you here," Anakin smirked, never faltering in his engagement to her saber.

From the intersection of their blades, Evelyn couldn't help but feel a little lost at the sight of his azure eyes, seeing how it matched their twined lightsabers.

She's always subtly complimented him about it, but never in the way she thought at that very moment.

"Oh yeah?" she dared to push against him a little harder, partly as a way to scold herself, "Is that what you told yourself running 'round the past few days?"

At this she ducked underneath his arm, freeing the both of them to circle around each other.

He chuckled deeply, "So you own up to actively avoiding me?"

Evelyn tilted her head, smiling behind the spinning blur of her lightsaber.

"You know I never lie."

"Well then if you're so honest," Anakin edged on, pointing the tip of his saber towards her, "Then what say you a bet?"

Despite herself and the events of the last few days (or the lack thereof), she was open to the idea.

She did admit that she found his composed demeanor quite strange, knowing Anakin extremely well as impatient. She expected harsh questioning, annoyed monologues, nosy tendencies; instead, he was acting as anything but that. Well, to an extent-he was still his cocky self this early in the morning.

Padme's rubbing off on him, I guess.

"Go on."

"We duel." Anakin states strongly, "It's been a while, so it’s even ground. And whoever wins, gets to make the other do something."

Evelyn scoffed, "Well, that's what a bet is. I meant, what's at stake?"

"If I win, you stop acting like a hellion and join us today. No questions asked," he gazed down at her.

Huh?

"And if I win?" she stopped walking, keeping her weapon by her side.

"I leave you alone," Anakin said simply, face unreadable.

Curious.

They regarded one another for a while, eyeing the other for any foul intentions. Taking it to the next level, their reach out to each other through the Force was wide open, unlike how Evelyn had closed herself off from him for days.

And so she rushed forward, swinging the first strike.

He met her by his head, admittedly a little shocked she would go straight for his neck.

He forced her to his right, then pulled her towards him so she would spin away, allowing for him to regroup. Anakin lunged for her legs, leaving a path of light in the wake of her fast feet, backing up on her toes as preparation to jump over his head.

She landed facing his back, and snatched his defenseless side as an opportunity. But as she expected, he had blocked her, his arms twisted to cover him, and his face turned over his shoulder to peek at her determined face.

He smiled, missing this.

A battling blur of blue and white ensued, dangerously similar to lightspeed; their movement rocked back and forth, bringing balance to their battle as they danced a tango they've danced before.

Both were swift, sure and strong in their steps, and it was painfully clear that they were each other's equals as they showed no falter.

Behind her followed her streak of dark hair, as sharp as her eyes; ever following Anakin's movements, discerning, calculating, deciding. She tried to ignore how his eyes never left hers if he could help it, and how she couldn't leave his. Evelyn didn't know what made this spar so different, but it intoxicated her senses.

She blamed the heat she was feeling on their lightsabers.

On the other side of their ferocious frolic, Anakin watched her fight as his body responded naturally, for they always did a thousand times. Her eyes narrowed, her teeth gnawing on her lip, her hair falling into place; he could fight her over and over again, win over and over again, lose over and over again, if it meant he got to witness this.

Unsurprisingly, Anakin maneuvered his saber in a way that always confused his opponents. Rarely Evelyn, however, as she had seen his signature move enough to handle it. He spun it impossibly fast twice behind and in front of him, meaning to draw her attention everywhere.

He was unsuccessful.

But he was counting on that.

Her perfect-on-paper tactic to strike his legs the split second his momentum drove him upwards was met with a jump. Anakin tucked his knees up to her surprise, then scooped her lightsaber in to turn against her.

He had caged her in: her own vertically challenging the side of her face, and his horizontally threatening her throat. Yet all she could feel was his racing heartbeat behind her as he pressed her back into his chest.

She silently hoped he couldn't feel hers.

"And one more thing." she barely stopped herself from shivering when his breath tingled her ear, practically feeling his ear-to-ear grin, “You've gotta wear the dress."

•〰️•

It's shorter than I thought.

Evelyn expected as much. Padme was almost 4 inches shorter than her with a much daintier physique- of course, she would need less tightening of the soft corset attached, and it would stop above her ankles rather than her feet.

Though, the Padawan wasn't going to lie- the dress was beautiful.

Padme deserved credit for her fashion sense, for she knew well enough that Evelyn preferred simplicity and comfort, and gifted her a dress she was in genuine admiration of.

Like everything here, it was soft; lace hugging her skin as if it knew it belonged to be on her. She wasn't sure how Padme had come to know of her favourite colour, but the wispy layers of the dress were of a midnight blue, the same one would see if they looked up at the sky in the latest hours of the night.

Yes, it may have been odd given that all of her life was spent in space- one would think she would be tired of such a shade. But the night had been her friend since before she was plucked out of Canto Bight's fathier farm, always reassuring her that it was okay not to sleep, always staying with her as she told it her hopes and dreams until the sun came to ruin it all.

The straps on each side intertwined with one another, deceiving all to believe they were dark vines crawling up from the gently layered skirt, up her soft corset, across her shoulders. It wrapped her in all the right places, and she couldn't stop feeling anxious about wearing it in front of other people. Angling herself around multiple times to ensure nothing was more awkward, she scrutinised herself in the mirror.

"So this is what Padme feels like everyday," she said to herself, “Not in the same robes everyday, feeling pretty and strong.”

An all too familiar series of robotic chirps muffled through the door, and she knew R2 had come to escort her; unsurprisingly, Anakin and Padme had gone ahead.

She took a deep breath, still slightly upset she had lost the duel, and headed for the door.

"Where did you say?" Evelyn asked her companion.

They had just crossed a riverbank, encircled by large, majestic waterfalls that kissed her lightly with its teardrops.

"We're almost there! Just up ahead in the field," R2 beeped, letting out a surprised yelp as Evelyn placed him safely down on the bank.

"Hey, watch your language, Artoo," Evelyn frowned, Anakin's been talking to him too much, “Plus, I thought you could swim?"

He zoomed through the grass at the implication, afraid he'd be sent swimming back to the villa.

"Seems a bit extra for me to wear a dress like this out here, no?"

She watched her step, careful not to stain the dress.

He whirred and tittered in response, and it made Evelyn beam bashfully.

"Thank you, R2. And you look pretty, too."

It was a bright, ever sunny day, but Evelyn supposed the giant waterfalls provided them with a dew that brightened the whole field up.

She didn't know whether to be surprised or not anymore, for the flowers scattering the scene were breathtaking.

Just up ahead, was the pair sitting on a small clearing, where blades of grass turned outwards as if accommodating them.

"Evelyn," Padme gasped, cupping her face as she stood to meet the approaching Padawan, "Oh, it's so much better than I imagined!"

Padme squealed softly and held her at arms-length, observing her.

"You look amazing as well, Padme."

Indeed she did, in a floral dress that spelled out her elegance, the sun making it almost golden to the eye.

Anakin’s got one lucky ass.

"I do apologise, I didn't have anything that was longer for your height and less formal for the occasion.”

"No, please don't!" grasping her hands in return, "I can't thank you enough for your kindness. It truly is beautiful.”

"Well, it is even more so now," Padme smiled, dragging her towards Anakin, the droid and a noticeable basket in the middle, "Come! We haven't started eating yet."

"Good, Anakin wouldn't have left anything,” she joked, earning Padme's laugh.

The close attention from his gaze was not lost to her, and she couldn't bring herself to look straight at him.

But his aura forced her to. So, she looked to where he was sitting, already seeing him scan her every detail, every inch of her new look.

"So, where's your dress?" Evelyn snipped to break the ice. They sat down, and Padme began to offload the food in front of them.

"Oh, I would've worn it," he broke out of his trance and reached for a sandwich, "But I wouldn't've looked as pretty as you do right now"

Evelyn almost choked on nothing, refusing to let them see the profuse blush colouring her cheeks as she glanced down.

What lovely grass.

In all of their time together, Anakin had never called her 'pretty' out of nowhere. And even when he did, it was in the most unserious of contexts.

It wasn't to say that Evelyn never thought of Anakin as... attractive. Because he was.

It would be a crime to try and lie about that. Girls in and out of the temple would gawk and giggle as he walked past, and Evelyn would be there to watch all of it, trying her best not to let it influence her perspective.

"So, Ani," Padme brought up quickly as she sensed Evelyn's discomfort, "How did you draw our mission leader away from her duties?"

A pang of guilt rang in Evelyn's chest.

"An aggressive negotiation" they said at the same time. Though, Anakin had his mouth half-full.

"Aggressive negotiation?" Padme asked, "What's that?"

Evelyn waved a hand for Anakin to proceed, who laughed as he swallowed his food, "It's, well, a negotiation with a lightsaber.

"You guys did what now?" Padme asked astounded.

They burst into laughter, and that was the start of an afternoon that surprised even Evelyn. As if nothing had happened, the three of them bonded- talking of both surface and deeper topics, and getting up to explore the field when they found sitting tiresome.

"Careful!" came Evelyn's shriek.

The two women watched as the rebel was thrown around on a wild shaak's (as Evelyn had learned the creature was called) back, trying to maintain his balance as they unsteadily shot down the hill.

"Anakin Skywalker, you are not going to die on an animal's back on my mission!"

She assured Padme that she would retrieve him, telling her to stay put with R2. Evelyn removed her sandals, hiked up her dress and ran as fast as she could until she found a falter in the shaak’s prance.

"Then join me!" he yelled down at her. Anakin's big hand shot out, albeit bouncing up and down, and stayed there until she skeptically decided to take it.

A yelp escaped her mouth as she was tugged up, and she clung on to him for dear life when she had realised what she had done.

"Oh my word, I shouldn't be condoning this behaviour."

"Aw, c'mon, we used to do more reckless thing before this." he threw over his shoulder.

"Yes, but imagine how this would look if I had to report this back to the Council!"

"Then it'll stay a secret!" Anakin whooped, appreciating the feeling of Evelyn's arms wrapped around him.

He swerved them to the left, tightening her hold around his waist. They were both laughing to the point where their stomachs hurt, and she didn't find it so bad after all.

As they galloped towards the river, where a waterfall awaited them, Anakin tried to halt.

To no avail. His smile slowly faded. He tried again.

The shaak only seemed to gain speed, and it viciously dashed through the green and towards the roar of water.

30 meters.

"Anakin?" Evelyn's frantic call rang in his ears.

10 meters.

"Anakin!"

"Shit," he muttered. Anakin turned on his heels, taking her up into his arms and braced himself.

And just as the shaak feigned to head straight into the river, Anakin used the Force in panic to push it a sharp right, throwing them off its back and deep into the river.

The pressure hit them hard, water seizing their figures into its clutches. Evelyn felt herself wrapped against someone, and managed to open her eyes to see Anakin’s blurry figure inches away from her; strong arms wrapped around her, as if a protective shell from the impact.

Her heart dropped.

She took him with her as she rushed to the surface, ears popping to the angry bellow of the stream.

To her relief, and her wheezing composure, Anakin's blue eyes took her in, desperately surveying her, reflexively reaching for her.

"Are you okay?" he gasped nervously before she could ask. The two Padawans floated there, Evelyn's dress billowing around them.

Then she slapped him on the chest.

"Ow!"

"Why did you do that?!"

“What do you mean why did I-"

“You could've gotten yourself killed!"

"I'm sorry, are you really scolding me for prote-

"You don't need to protect me! We're both Jedi, Anakin!"

"I'm sorry, I just thought-”

"Well, don't!" she huffed. Her eyes were full of fear, and so was her Force signature- a mixture of colours that she would be ashamed to have. Colours of the dark.

Anakin saw it, and tried bringing her back to him. They held onto each other for what seemed like forever, brown meeting blue, chests heaving underwater. Her hair had come undone out of its tie, her lashes laced with droplets- he had never seen such beauty as he did then.

"Okay, I'm sorry," he said carefully, eyes shifting down to her lips dangerously. Just a split second.

She noticed how close they were, and she couldn't resist roaming her stare to his wet hair, his strong jaw, his eyes.

"But you have to admit that was fun,” he quietly said in between them, and it bled the red out of her mind, turning into soothing blue and starlight, like he always managed to do.

“Yeah," her eyes flickered down too, a smile creeping up her own, "It was."

Evelyn welcomed his scent to wash over her, mixing with the smell of fresh water and wind blown grass.

Anakin couldn't believe he had always had the privilege of being this close to her all his life, but only noticed how much he couldn't bear to be without it now.

Did she perhaps feel as tortured as he did?

Was this it?

Was this the moment he had been waiting for?

Surfacing from the depths out of nowhere, her lightsaber caught her attention.

And so she decided not.

The young Jedi pulled away, blinking rapidly as she kicked to the shore, a confused Anakin just on her toes.

The red fog was back, and this time it was consuming both of their hearts.

"Now can you just tell me what's wrong?" he asked frustratedly, trudging out onto the bank.

She angrily hauled the wet dress that weighed her down, now dead from its wistful life just moments before.

"What?" she asked stiffly, her back remained turned to him.

He who couldn't care less about how cold he felt from the water, ridding himself of his leather vest and outer robe to catch up to her.

"Seriously? You've avoided me since we got here, and it's been annoying the shit out of me."

"There's nothing wrong," she turned to him, wet waves accompanying her rigid features, "And even if there was, why would I necessarily need to tell you?"

"Because you always have no matter what" his feet automatically followed her traipse up the bank, long strides getting him next to her in no time, "We always have."

She visibly struggled to walk away faster in her sopping dress.

"Well, you don't need to know everything about me."

"But I do!"

"Well we're just friends, Anakin!" she did not stop, one expressive hand flinging in the air, "Sometimes, I wanna have my own mind to think with, and sometimes you'll have to deal with things yourself, too!"

At that, his anger flared. He grabbed her wrist and turned her equally enraged face to him.

"What is going on with you?" he exclaimed.

"Nothing!"

She yanked her wrist away from him, and they were face to face, having an almost-screaming match.

"Bullshit.”

"Look, you have every opportunity to talk to someone you genuinely care about, someone you’ve really liked since we were kids," she swung her arm behind her, implying Padme, "Her door is right next to yours, and I'm giving you a chance to do what you can't when we leave."

Anakin swallowed. He'll take the chance.

"Are you... jealous?"

"What? Why would I be jealous?"

He shook the sinking feeling off.

"Well, I am worried about you, Eve," his voice rose.

She turned back around, striding once more; he followed.

"There's no need, nothing is wrong."

"You're lying through your teeth." he heatedly said to her as they walked, "And you told me you never lie."

"And because that's so, maybe this is a reflection of your inability to trust me or be wrong,” she hollered back.

"No, Eve! I know you better than anyone else in the world- in the whole goddamn galaxy," he pointed an accusatory finger at her, "You're acting just like how you used to when we first met."

"No, I'm not! I'm just making sure you and Padme get all the time you can!" her strong voice wavered.

He stopped in his tracks, breathing heavy, looking at her longingly.

"But why does that have to come at such a steep cost?"

"What?" she whipped around, not quite believing what she heard.

"I feel like I'm losing you, Eve. It feels like you're making me choose when at the end of the day- at the end of it all- you are my best friend. And I refuse to let you go that easy."

"Ani-” she shook her head.

Breathe, trying her best not to let tears fall. Not here, not now.

"You're stuck with me, like you were 10 years ago, whether you like it or not.”

Both of them panted at the speed they had been playing chase, and they stood there planted, gouging out what was next to come.

She took a deep breath, letting go of her skirt and tucking her wet hair behind her ears out of habit.

"Ani, I am making you choose. Because the two of us, we, break the Code everyday, every mission, every second we serve under the Order."

"Well, then-"

"But you and Padme can hide this with the distance as horrible as it sounds. You guys can survive through it," Evelyn pushed past his urge to interrupt, "We have and will always be looked down on for being... best friends."

She couldn't stop it anymore; her voice broke as she looked away from him, suddenly cursing the sky for setting into the night that she loved.

"…What are you saying?" he croaked. The world had never been quieter.

“Maybe I'm telling you to make the right choice.

And it isn't me."

•〰️•

Traveling back was painful. Dinner was painful. Going to bed was painful.

It tormented Anakin to know that this was what heartbreak felt like, and he didn't know whether he would be able to mend it.

He didn't need to go to sleep to face a possible nightmare, for he felt he was already living in one.

The stars cried for him, pouring out compassion through their twinkling lights. There, in his bed with the moonlight bathing him, did his sorrows lie. Fear, anger, hate lead to the dark side; but every time he was scared, it drove him to fight harder. To fight harder for her. And why was that so bad?

But when has he ever liked losing? When had he ever been obedient?

Never. Especially not with her. But ultimately, she had chosen him over herself, prioritising him over whatever she may or may not have felt; it saddened him even more.

Anakin swung the duvet out of his way, leaning his elbows into his knees. Taking his loose, camel-coloured shirt from a chair, he slipped it on and treaded for the balcony with a tired rub of his eyes.

Stepping out into the cool midnight air, he looked to his right, a small twinge of hope to see Evelyn on her own balcony, melancholy dripping off of her.

But she wasn't there.

Of course she isn't.

She was the one who found solitude in her self-control. When she made up her mind, it was often too hard to change it.

He knew she was right deep down; he just couldn’t believe that he had lost her in the snap of his fingers, when he spent so long to even get close to her.

The cool stone ledge under his hands comforted him in a strange way, in a manner that even the stars couldn't; it grounde him back to reality, back to his present, back to the light of the Force-

Evelyn?

In the distance, just about to detach from the dock, was Evelyn's undeniable silhouette aboard a gondola.

Alarm rang throughout his body, and he stumbled around in a rush to get her.

No doubt, he would go after her.

Anakin pushed off from the balustrade, and ran faster than he ever had- through the dark corridor, down the grand staircase, and towards the docks.

"Eve!" he bellowed, running down countless steps, not keeping in mind who could've heard him.

For once, he thanked the years of rigorous training for his stamina. One foot in front of the other, he raced time to see Evelyn drifting further and further away from the shore- from him.

"Eve!" he cupped his hands over his mouth, heaving from the rush while he dreadfully stood at the very edge of the wood.

She didn't turn. She was painfully still, too; he feared the worst.

Was she leaving them? Was she under some sort of trick? Did someone get to her? Was she-

No.

Like always, Anakin acted impulsively, this time fuelled by an intoxicating amount of adrenaline.

He jumped.

He dove through the water less gracefully than he'd hoped, and swam until his whole body burned.

Don't go. Don't go. Don't go.

In time, the cold sting of the water motivated him to keep going.

Stroke by stroke, he could feel her presence intensify, and he had never been so glad to bask in it.

Seeing the tail of the gondola in the short moment he went up for air, Anakin stopped, grabbing onto it.

"Anakin?" he heard through muffled ears.

Thank the Maker.

Her startled face was illuminated by the blue glow of her lightsaber, but he didn't care, pulling himself up to join her from the loud splashing he had caused.

"What are you doing out here?" he gasped in confrontation.

"What are you doing out here?" she retaliated; no bags, not even properly dressed, nothing. He suddenly felt a little stupid; she’s had her fair share of sleepless nights, too.

Even after the ridiculous ordeal, as he shivered, he soaked in her perfect hair blanketing her shoulders, her sharp eyes softened just for him, and her in just her nightgown and robe.

Have mercy on me.

"Anakin Skywalker, are you insane?!" she tucked her lightsaber behind her, rushing to remove her robe to leave her arms and legs exposed to the cold air. She wrapped him in it, even though it was too short on him.

"Yes," he blurted out, "Deeply. For you. You've driven me mad. Crazy. Deranged."

He realised she was only half-listening, too preoccupied with drying him off.

"Clearly," she continued to pat him down- trying to ignore his nearly translucent shirt displaying the contours of his muscles- scowling through concentration, “What were you thinking? I could've sliced you in half! And you scared the shit out of me!"

“Please just listen to me," he implored, trying to catch her eye.

So, this is what she looks like in a nightgown.

He could definitely get used to it.

"What the hell are you talking about?" she sat back down across from him, boat rocking back and forth,"You could get sick!"

"Listen-"

"I can't take care of both Padme and you. You must be out of your mind to have just done that!"

"Can I just-"

"You've been acting half out of your mind since we got here," she harshly told him off.

"Evie."

She shut up from the urgency in his voice. Her face in that upset pout Anakin loved whenever he annoyed her, she waited.

'Then you tell her what you've always wanted to. And don't. Hold. Back.'

"Eve," he gulped, "You've been my best friend for, well, for a long time. It's been a long 10 years."

"Yeah, no shit."

"And I was too afraid, too cowardly," Gods, he was really doing this, "To tell you what I wanted."

He could tell she was still mad at him, especially given that she had completely closed her mind off from him.

"I want you," he whispered so softly, as if it might break them apart, "For worse or for better."

He kept his eyes on her, her increasingly surprised self. The more he spoke, the more he betrayed the Code.

To hell with it.

"I would wait for you, forever, no matter how long it takes. And I- I know I've broken your heart... but I want to be the one to put it back together. And to protect it, cherish it, love it."

He reached out to take her hand, pleased to find that she didn't pull back.

"If you will have me, the way I want you."

Something so wrong had never felt so right, and he was so addicted. Now, he didn't hold himself back from staring at her- his best friend.

Love may be forbidden in the Order, and both Padawans have continuously disagreed with it. To bring 'peace' meant to protect, to protect meant to love, and to love meant to fight. It didn't mean they were drawn to the Dark Side, but rather that they embraced the challenges, to know how to fight it, to beat it.

"But..." she finally sniffed out, the gleam glossing her eyes looking majestic to her partner in crime, “What about Padme?"

Anakin couldn't help but laugh, even though the face she made told him it was wrong.

"Eve," he held onto both of her hands now, "She helped us get together, helped me even get to this point. I was so lost, and when we finally saw her again, I knew I needed help from someone I could trust.”

At that, a tear finally rolled down her smooth cheek; Anakin gently wiped it away. She rarely cried, and he vowed the first time she did years ago to wipe it all away.

“I'm sorry if I made you think otherwise," he sincerely apologised, tucking her loose strands behind her ear, "I was too scared of our duty. Only to realise that I only did this- do this- duty because of you. It's always been you, even when I told you about Padme when we were kids. Even when Damon dared to challenge me in the courtyard."

I think I'm doing pretty alright with this.

“But what about the Code? And Master Kenobi and Gallia? And the rest of the Order? Ani, it's already been hard living everyday with the thought that something might happen to you, and now-"

She slapped his chest in the midst of her rant; it was a normal occurrence for them.

“You fucking sociopath!" she seethed through her flowing tears now, "Could've told me earlier!"

His laugh reverberated through his chest. He pulled her close to him, and pressed a tender, loving kiss on her forehead; so full of his caged emotions.

And so he realised, she, too, was betraying her whole life's purpose for this. For them.

“We'll figure it out. And, I mean, judging by your reaction," he pulled away, playing with her Padawan braid, "You feel the same way?"

She glared up at him, aggressively wiping her cheeks, "Yes, you dumbass! You should've told me before I looked like a fool, running around to get you two together for the past month!"

"I know," he sheepishly said, "I really wasn't good at the whole love thing. But what Jedi is, right?"

Her bottom lip quivered ever so slightly, and she sniffed, "Lo- you... love me?"

He smirked at her.

"I mean... I could not, I guess."

"Yeah? We’ll see how that goes waterboy," she threatened, giggling at his embarrassment.

Gods, he wanted to kiss her.

“You’ve always been and are so beautiful,” he cupped her warm cheek in his hand, “Almost lost my shit when I saw you in that dress.”

They both chortled, reminding themselves of the unpredictable day they had had.

“And we have got to sneak some of those nightgowns back,” Anakin’s smirk grew twice the size when she hid her face from him.

He realised he was wrong.

He believed now that in every universe they existed in, he would always find his way to her, he would always choose her, and he would always love her. Always.

"I love you," he confirmed.

Her eyes came up to flash in between his.

"Okay"

Huh?

Anakin's eyes bulged out.

"What-"

"I'm just kidding," she chuckled.

Her hands small compared to his own, though to him fitting perfectly, tugged him closer by her robe around his broad shoulders.

A canvas of colours blurred their visions, the pair allowing the paints of their passion taint the Force flowing between them.

She dared to creep closer, their knees brushing against one another, and she said with the most depth as she could, drawing straight from her heart,

"I love you."

“You promise?" he loved her smile, even if it was tinted with tears and her natural blush; he mirrored it unconsciously.

Evelyn tilted her head playfully, "I never lie to you, remember?"

With Padme and R2 cheering from their balcony as faithful witnesses, with the night sky ceremoniously hosting them as a mutual friend, and with the stars gifting them their blessing-

They kissed.

•〰️•

“You just lied to me again."

"…Yeah...we have a lot to talk about…”

•〰️•

a/n: got a bit carried away... i had more written, and with more detail, but i decided i couldnt possibly put everything in. anyways, one can imagine the aftermath- teasing, questioning each other, them going thru and talking out all of their feelings n miscommunications haha. hope whoever reads this enjoys! Imk if u have suggestions, prompts or just comments :)

#hayden christensen #star wars #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker #padme amidala #sw prequels #anakin fanfiction #star wars anakin #original female character #r2d2 #Spotify

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