#who was been training longer then has been conscious for | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

reiderwriter · 10 months

Note

can i request a fic of pining spencer reid and bau!reader who are brushing up on some hand to hand combat and reader is really invested on winning finally pins spencer down and reader is straddling spencer and they are both like 😳😳

the rest of the bau and other fbi agents are on the side making varies bets about who wins maybe too? (eg that miss congeniality scene)

A/N: Thank you for the request and omg thank you so much for this one specifically - I loved this idea. I had to make Spencer competitive too, because 😊 I wanted to.

Word count: 1.8k words

Warnings: none! Just fluff, however if anyone wanted to send a follow up request wanting a part two where there is some smut I'd be 100% okay with that... Just if you wanted to.

Part two

When Morgan told you that, after an unfortunate shoulder injury you received on the job, you’d have to take another training course to prove that you were up to being back in the field, you almost resigned on the spot. Passing the first time hadn’t been the easiest feat for you, and while you were confident in your skills in the field, you knew that you were, to put it kindly, athletically challenged.

“There’s no way to get out of it? No exceptions they can make to allow me into the field?” You asked, desperate to avoid Morgan putting you through the ringer.

“I’m sorry, sweet cheeks, but they’re worried about your ability to perform under pressure, so I gotta push you today, okay? You’re not alone, at least.”

“I’m not?” you gave the man a questioning look as you followed him to the changing rooms reluctantly.

“Nah, they pulled up Reid and Garcia as well, you’ll all be doing the work together today.”

“What that’s ridiculous! Penelope isn’t even in the field and Reid has never passed one of these things.” You throw your bag down on a bench, and look ahead of you into the equipment room, and sure enough, there they are, looks of equal dissatisfaction spread across their faces.

“You’re preaching to the choir here, sweet cheeks. You’re in good hands though, I’m not going to push you too hard today.” Somehow you didn’t believe that.

–X–

An hour later you were flat on your back, panting harder than you had in months, dripping with sweat and feeling an ache in your bones that you hadn’t felt ever. Next to you on the ground, you could hear your fellow torturee’s moaning in pain, presumably doing their best to stay conscious.

“You know, chocolate thunder, I love you, I really do, but you make it very, very hard sometimes,” Penelope squeaked out as the other man chuckled from above you. “God I’m not even asthmatic but I think I need an inhaler.”

You chuckled at that and pushed yourself up to a seated position.

“I think I am asthmatic.” Reid said form his position on your other side. You stole a glance at him quickly before blushing and looking away. You didn’t have a crush on him, or at least that was what you were telling yourself, but you did have a keen appreciation for how he looked in his button down shirts and FBI vests. His hair was shorter now than when you first met, and the longer parts stuck to his face with sweat. You were lucky that the strength had been all but zapped from your body because given the chance, you’d be pushing his hair out of his face for him and get lost in his eyes.

“Come on, guys. You finished cardio, you finished weights, all you got left is some simple self defense drills. Think you can handle that?” Morgan laughed from above you.

“No! I haven’t been able to handle any of this, what makes you think I can do more?” Reid moaned out on the floor next to you. You stood up, reluctantly, holding out a hand out to the man and helping to pull him to his feet.

You underestimate the help he needed to get up, though and he has to catch you in his arms as soon as he’s up, as you stumble into him, legs too weak. You blush as the two of you stay uncomfortably close for a few seconds, only pulling apart when Morgan lets out a sharp cough. You jump back from each other then, and pray to god that no one else in the room saw the puppy dog eyes you were unintentionally shooting up at him.

“Okay, so there’s three of you, so I’ll join in for these sparring drills. Any volunteers?”

“To tangle my limbs with yours all hot and sweaty on the floor? Sweetie, I thought you’d never ask.” You hadn’t seen Penelope move so fast all day, though you knew she was only half joking.

“Okay, so Y/L/N, Reid, you head over to that mat over there. You’re going to start a hand-to-hand combat simulation, whoever pins the other down first wins. We’ll do best of three, okay?”

Reluctantly, you made your way to the mat he indicated to, knowing that you weren’t going to have as much fun as Penelope any time soon.

“You’re going to start in a common self-defense scenario. Reid, you’re going to be the assailant, you’re going to come up on Y/L/N from behind, okay?” You nodded at Morgan’s words and turned yourself away from Reid, feeling his presence at your back already.

“Is this really necessary?” He questioned from behind you, and you could practically feel Morgan’s answering look on your back. Finally, he rested a light hand on your shoulder, and your session started.

You grabbed the hand on your shoulder and twisted it, and yourself, behind his back, gaining the upper hand quickly.

“Y/N, come on. Take it easy, I’m exhausted. Just let me pin you and we can call it a day.” Reid said from in front of you and your ears burnt at his suggestion.

“Wait, why would I let you pin me? I have the upper hand right now.” He huffed out a breath and twisted his body underneath your arm, catching you off-guard as he swept your legs from underneath you. Before you could fall all the way down, though, he grabbed you around your waist and held you in what you assumed looked like a ballroom dancing dip.

“You were saying?” You desperately wanted to wipe that arrogant smirk off of his lips. “Actually, I have a few years more experience in the field than you, and I was probably beaten up a lot more in high school, so I wouldn’t be too upset about losing to me, okay?”

You returned his smile sarcastically for a second, before lifting and swinging the heel of your foot into his knee, forcing him to hit the mat as you scrambled out of his grip and repositioned yourself behind him, pulling him arm behind his back a second time in an attempt to subdue him.

“If you have so much experience getting your ass kicked, Spence, why don’t you just let me do it?” You enjoyed feeding his words back to him as he moaned out a little.

“Because something tells me you’d enjoy it a little too much.” He somehow slips from your grip again, swiping your legs out from underneath you and climbing over you. The two of you struggle for a few seconds on the floor, but he has your legs pinned with his own, and he forces your hands above your head. Your heads are even with one another, and you’re both breathing heavily now.

You decide to take another approach to get out of his hold this time. Rolling your hips up into his slightly, you let your eyes rake over his body above you.

“You sure you’re not enjoying this just as much, Reid?” you shoot him an innocent enough smile, but you can see the flush staining his skin, and he loosens his hold on you just enough to allow you to wrap your legs around his waist and use your bosy weight as leverage to flip your positions.

Now he’s on his back below you and you sit up in triumph, straddling his lap. His arms fight to get yours pinned to your side but you give back just as much as he is, and you can feel the crowd forming around you. He decides to fight dirty as well.

“Thought you’d enjoy being under me more than you’d like being on top. I was being a gentleman,” he huffs out and manages to flip you over once more, pushing up and wrapping his legs up over your knees and forcing you onto your back. Your legs are now spread wide for him, his crotch pushed against yours, his arms gripping yours and pushing them firmly into the mat. You struggle a few more times but you know this is it. He’s got you.

“What? Not even going to let my hands go to let me tap out?” you huff out, blowing a stray piece of hair out of your eyes. He pins both of your hands with one of his and gently tucks the hair behind your ear for you as you burn up under his touch, suddenly at a loss for words.

“What, and let you try to tackle me again? Maybe if you ask nicely, I’ll let you go.”

“Y/L/N, Reid, if you’re finished over there, you can grab a drink and start over. I did say this was going to be best of three.” Both of you suddenly snap your eyes up to Morgan, who has one raised eyebrow pointed at you. You realise that you’ve also drawn the attention of the other gym-goers and scramble away from each other to the sound of chuckles and wolf whistles.

“Shit,” you run a hand through your hair and get in position to go again, this time swapping with Reid so you take the position of the unsub.

From a distance, you don’t realise that Penelope and Morgan have completely given up on their own drills.

“Twenty bucks says Reid gives in and kisses her first,” she whispers to her companion.

“The kid? No way, he’s being too cocky for that. I reckon Y/N will do it to try and distract him first.”

“I’ll take that bet,” Garcia says, and they settle back into watching the two of you, completely oblivious to the fact that you’re both enjoying sparring a little bit more than you normally would be.

“When do you think I should tell them that they never needed to do this training session in the first place?”

“Derek Morgan, if you are admitting right now that you made me walk through hell and back just so you could force these two beautiful idiots whom I love to recognise their feelings for each other then I am going to murder you and then bring you back to life so I can kiss you for being so smart.”

“So I shouldn’t tell them?”

“Take it to the grave, baby.”

They turned their attention back to you, suddenly way more invested in how this was going to turn out.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #mgg #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc

2K notes · View notes

cumikering · 6 months

Text

Ex bf John Price x reader

1.6k | angst Price was back in Liverpool (part 2)

“John?”

That voice was definite. It couldn't be, but there you stood when he turned.

A soft smile spread across your lips. “I recognised the beanie.”

It was your gift from all those years ago, dark grey with his initials, JMFP, embroidered on the bottom.

He chuckled, the kind that made his eyes crinkle.

“How long has it been? 5 years?”

He shifted his weight. “Thereabouts.” Has it really been that long?

The last time you saw each other was when he dropped you off the train station, three years’ worth of your relationship dragged behind in your luggage. It was much heavier than it looked.

You stood in front of the train, your back to him, unmoving. His heart had been in his throat since the night before, ever since you started packing, when ‘our apartment’ became simply ‘John’s’. His nails dug into his palms, wishing you’d turn around. There were still a few seconds for you to change your mind.

You boarded - your one-way trip back to Liverpool.

“I didn’t expect you to still have it.”

He was exposed. He wished he didn't wear the beanie, but it was always his favourite.

“You alright?

“Never better.” His cheeks ached, or was it his chest? “You?”

He didn’t need to ask. It was easy to see. Your eyes bright, cheeks flushed from the weather. You looked as good as the day he met you.

In his worn fleece button down, he was self-conscious of how he was still the same at best, but who was he kidding - the years hadn’t been kind to him. Nowadays his scruff was an excuse to not have to shave so often.

You weren’t supposed to meet again, and not there of all places, but it was funny really. It was the same place you first met. The memories flooded in.

It was no secret that people could only pick one: military or family. Well, most of them anyway, some lucky bastards got to have both. John didn’t care about having to choose when he walked down this path in life. He never had plans for relationships, and the disinterest served him well, allowing him to excel over his peers. Until you came along.

Still a lieutenant then, John was back home in Liverpool browsing the beer aisle at the nearest supermarket. Next to him, your first summer after uni, you were in charge of the drinks for your brother’s birthday BBQ. You asked if he could help you with the overwhelming selection. When he carried the purchase back to your car, you invited him to the party instead.

You were inseparable the rest of the summer. Each touch seared his skin and he felt 10 years younger. Despite the circumstances, the both of you were unwilling to leave the fire behind. Between deployments, you always made time to visit each other, connection unwavering.

Having you in front of him was surreal. He stood there with knees that didn’t work like they used to, his head constantly thumping. He’d taken a beating and the years between you were felt further. Like you were frozen in time and he was… here. You were unforgettable, but the air around you was foreign. You didn’t look at him like you used to. Maybe that’s what happened if he wasn’t your muse anymore.

You would have followed him to the end of the world. He knew it – you did it. After a year, you dropped all you knew. Your family, life-long friends, the job you were after the whole of uni. You started all over for him.

With you, he was on top of the world, the luckiest man defying the odds. Life fell into a comfortable rhythm. You made do; got yourself a decent job, far from perfect but it was a sacrifice you were willing to make.

On track to becoming a captain, guilt sat heavy in his chest when he left you for weeks on end, but the kisses grew sweeter the longer he went, and your grateful smile at the door told him it was alright. He could have both you and the SAS.

“I got my dream job a few months ago.”

Of course you did. It’s you.

“I heard you got shot in the leg this year. Hope you’re doing better.”

He grimaced. “Who told you?”

“Your mum. She calls sometimes.”

He let out a small sigh. “She always loved you.”

“The 141 doing alright?”

He hung his head and gave a weak nod. He preferred you to not ask.

Death was the soulmate of war. It was the harsh reality how countless comrades of his fell, some you knew personally - their wives and kids and how the horrors haunted even years after.

Distant worry swirled into a dark cloud. Someone else was in the relationship. The reaper loomed as she went down her roll call and it couldn’t help but look like John was waiting for his turn with a smile, his doom as certain as the fall of the night.

At first, John was optimistic. When the thoughts consumed, he calmed you down with a few days at home, never leaving your side. Over time, it was evident he couldn’t – you couldn’t. Him working overtime didn’t make you miss him more, coming home after weeks apart was no longer sweet.

Each day ate at you, knowing it could very well be one of his last. This was going nowhere but straight into a singular outcome. With each name scratched out, you were haunted by progressively worse nightmares. It was unhealthy - he could see it on you.

You loved rings. He got you one for each anniversary. When he gave you his family heirloom, thinking the commitment would soothe you, you gave it back to him. No ring could unearth the dread in your chest. Nothing would change how this was going to play out.

The rest of the evening was tense, and when you jerked awake later that night, the lump in your throat only swelled. Your whole body begged you to run. He could taste it in your hasty kisses, your touches fleeting.

The fear in your eyes had morphed into guilt. That’s when he knew it was over.

When John came back from his next mission, you told him you were leaving, tears down your cheeks. He knew it was coming, but it hurt all the same.

How could he hate you, even if you left? Even after you dropped everything to be with him. It was always too good to be true.

Happy endings didn’t belong to him. The fact crawled under his skin in the chill of the night, etched into the pastel dawn sky of empty desserts, howled by the wind. He’d done more than enough terrible things to be denied of the niceties of the world. You were the best thing in his, but it was much too late.

You always said you were both too young, that when you decided to be together, you didn’t fully understand what a relationship with him entailed. You said you didn’t want to make him choose, that he didn’t deserve to be forced to choose. Said he was excellent at what he did, and you weren’t going to take that away.

That night before you left, you kissed for the last time. You forced a smile through the tears as he looked at you with gut-wrenching longing. He wanted to remember forever the softness your skin, the gasps you let out when he touched you, the way your eyes shut, his name tumbling out of your lips as your back arched.

John wasn’t a crier, but the unshed tears stung. He chanted ‘I love you’ against every inch of you. Maybe if he said it enough you’d change your mind. He wasn’t in his body when he started sobbing. You held each other until sleep took over, and he thought he wouldn’t be upset if he didn’t wake again.

Perhaps you were right. How far he’d come could only be credited to the undying drive in him. It was a blessing and a curse as it cost him you. So he devoted the rest of him into work. It was the only thing he had, the only thing left to do to make losing your worth it, but nothing softened the blow.

When you left, his world capsized, drained. It took him over a year to put the pieces back together, but he could have sworn you’d taken some with you. You’d awoken a desire in him that never got satiated again. You left him high and dry with a bleeding chest.

You were more than just someone, more than just a partner. You were the one he was going to settle down for, even if he never could figure out how to reconcile the idea.

John closed his eyes. Was this a sick joke the world was playing on him? In the midst of uncertainty, in his unending sorrow where the fantasy of giving it all up had budded, why now?

With you in front of him, the kind eyes, the curve of your pretty lips - he could almost hear you say ‘we should have tried harder’. He knew he would. I just need you to ask. Ask and I’m yours in a heartbeat.

“Nice seeing you, John. Merry Christmas. Take care, okay?”

He let out an unsteady sigh.No matter how much it hurt, no matter how many what ifs and the parallel universes he'd ventured out to, he knew this was for the best.

At least you looked happier. That's the most he could get, as a man with sins too heavy to carry. Maybe he’d get another chance when the world ran out of bad guys. Maybe in another life.

He forced a smiled and you turned.

He pretended not to notice the glint of gold on your left hand.

@glitterypirateduck @sofasoap @shadofireshinobi @tiredmetalenthusiast @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot @caramlizedtomatoes @two-gh0sts @rowanyaboats

#codholiday2023 #call of duty #cod #cod fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #captain john price #captain price #john price #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x you #call of duty x you #cod angst #call of duty angst #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #john price angst

741 notes · View notes

thankskenpenders · 5 months

Text

Happy new year, everyone! Welcome to 2024, the year that will mark the 10th anniversary of Thanks Ken Penders. I'd like to go over my plans for the blog for this year.

First of all: in the very near future, I'll have a post with my thoughts on Sonic Dream Team, and I'm sure I'll write one last Sonic Prime review once the final episodes drop on the 11th. I've also been sitting on an unfinished piece about the Sonic LEGO sets. I wanted this to be longer and more detailed piece that not only reviewed the sets but also went into the weird disconnect between homogenized image of Sonic the Brand and the actual fiction it's based off of, but it'll probably end up getting cut down a lot just so I can put something out. Let's just say I did a fun little thing with one of the sets.

Second: yes, I would like to return to regular TKP updates this year. As I've said many times, I wanted to do this in 2023, but I've been suffering from creative burnout after finishing SLARPG and have generally been unable to focus on any of my creative goals this past year. I'm hoping that this year will be better and I'll be able to get back into the swing of covering Archie Sonic issues. Even doing one issue every week or so would be vastly preferable to continuing the hiatus. I'm still only halfway done!! But aside from burnout, my other main hurdle is that I need to reread my own archive to refresh myself on all these things after nearly three years away. This will take some time.

The thing is, though, this year I'll have an extra incentive to go back through my previous writing and brush up on all things Archie Sonic. Because you see...

I've decided that I want to make a video essay about Penders. The comics, the copyright battle, The Lara-Su Chronicles, everything.

The why

I've thought about doing this before, but I never committed to the idea. I was too busy with gamedev, or I thought it'd end up being too long, or I figured that there were already enough videos on the subject, or I just lacked confidence in my ability to put together a video essay. So I told myself it wasn't meant to be, and let the multiple YouTubers who have cited me as a source on their own Penders videos fill that void.

Recently, though, a few things have happened that have convinced me it might be time. For one, YouTube video essays/media retrospectives/etc. are just getting longer and longer. When Quinton Reviews is out here doing 21 hours of videos on Sam & Cat, a subpar Nick sitcom that only lasted one season, I don't feel so crazy for wanting to make a video about several hundred comic books and two lawsuits that'd be at least an hour or two long lmao. Admittedly, I've also been self-conscious about doing a long video essay like this as a trans woman who has yet to do any vocal training. But these days I feel like I see a lot more transfem YouTubers who have done little to no vocal training, and that's given me more confidence on that front.

But the big one was Hbomberguy's recent plagiarism video. As I sat there watching it, I kept thinking about the time I found a CBR article that was just a crude 800 word summary of my two previous articles on Penders, published by a CBR writer who's put out over 4000 articles since 2019. If I've already been plagiarized before, and my writing is so frequently passed around as a go-to source on Archie Sonic drama, then I wouldn't be shocked if there were YouTubers out there straight up just plagiarizing me. I don't watch other peoples' videos on Archie Sonic, so I'd never know! So if people are just gonna paraphrase me when covering these topics anyway, why not take matters into my own hands and make what I would consider to be the definitive video on the subject? If hacks like James Somerton and iilluminaughtii can churn out these shitty video essays and people will still watch them, surely it can't be that impossible to make my own, right? (And also, uh, Hbomb literally told me I should make the video lol. If you're reading this, thanks for the encouragement.)

The what, how, and when

So here's the plan.

Part of this video essay will be an adaptation of my Medium article on the recurring themes of Ken's Archie Sonic run, with its content touched up and expanded upon. There were a few things I skimmed over in the article because I didn't want it to get too long, but again, people are out here watching ten hour videos about bad Nickelodeon sitcoms now. I can get away with elaborating a little more. I can add a few paragraphs talking about the Chaos Knuckles arc, or throw in a little more historical context I've discovered in the years since.

After covering the comics, the back half(-ish?) of the video will be dedicated to the copyright battles and their ensuing controversies, trying to give an accurate picture of what actually went down, the sheer scale of how bad Archie fucked up, and what our takeaways should be. This will have some similarities to my New York Magazine article on the subject, but I'll be rewriting it from scratch. I REALLY had to keep things short for that article because I was already way over the expected word count, and my tone was a little more straight-laced than normal because I was trying to keep things Professional. I can riff more and insert more of my own opinions this time, like I normally would.

I'll inevitably have to touch on some of Ken's Bad Tweets when discussing things that have happened after the lawsuits, but I don't want the video to just devolve into a list of times people got mad at him on Twitter, so I'm gonna try to keep that to a minimum in favor of focusing on his actual work. Things like the Scourge the Speed Demon incident and his continued statements on certain characters' copyright statuses probably warrant mentioning, though. And finally, assuming that the book really does come out this summer, I would like the grand finale of the video to be about those first couple chapters of The Lara-Su Chronicles.

I don't currently know when this video will get done, but it'll probably be in the back half of the year, especially with me waiting for the book to either drop or get delayed yet again. But I've actually already started writing a bit of the script, and will keep chipping away at it for a while.

So, uh, yeah, look forward to that? Wish me luck?

#tkp post

468 notes · View notes

raineandsky · 2 months

Text

#110

tw: implied violence

For the first three seconds, the villain is absolutely certain the hero is dead.

He’s just returning from a dart across the city and isn't even 100 metres from the little front door when he spots the hero. Who on god’s green earth has left a hero on the floor, out in the open? The villains are meant to be trained better than this. They’re practically begging for attention, and on their literal doorstep. Someone’s getting a good talking to about this.

The villain approaches tentatively, leaning down to hold a hand in front of the hero’s mouth. Okay, so they’re alive. He’s not sure if that makes the situation better or worse.

He pushes the hero over slightly to try and see what on earth got them here—and whether the villain needs to worry about any split-second, lifesaving decisions—and earn an incoherent groan in response. He almost drops the hero in surprise; alive, clearly, and somewhat conscious.

“[Hero]?” The villain can’t say why that’s his first port of call. The hero’s barely awake, let alone in any state to reply. He carefully brushes the hero’s hair out of their face; he’s not sure why. “I’m gonna try to get you inside, alright?”

Another halfhearted noise. The villain punches the code into the door, shoves it open, and, as gently as no strength and an ingrained sense of apathy will allow, drags the hero into the bright white of the villains’ hideout.

No one’s around, thankfully; he’s not about to take the flak for someone else’s mistake. He dumps the hero on the floor half-gently, abandoning them there momentarily to grab a first aid kit. Villains come back in pieces more often than not—they’ve learnt to keep ways to fix themselves within arm’s reach.

The villain hurries back, kit in his arms, dropping it and himself to the ground without a care next to the hero. He’s opened the bag and shoved his hand into it before he realises he didn’t hear the door shut behind them.

His gaze snaps up to the doorway. A figure is stood there, her foot holding the door open, her eyes roaming curiously. “Hm,” she says brightly, “nice little hideout you have here.”

The villain’s on his feet immediately. He has to be—it’s not like he can deal with the hero with a stranger wandering about. “Who the hell are you?”

The stranger’s gaze finally falls on him, part intrigued, part humoured. “Ah, I suppose you wouldn’t know me,” she says wistfully. “It’s been so long since I was in the field.”

The villain’s been in said field longer than most. He squints in an effort to place this random person acting like she belongs here, his hand against the sharp bump in his coat like a comfort. “That doesn’t answer the question.”

A bright smile, like the sun is invading this room and trying to blind everyone in it. “I’m [Superhero].”

The villain’s dagger is in his hand before he can even think about it. The superhero takes a half-step inside and lets the door shut behind her.

“Got your attention, didn’t it?” She nods her head to the hero on the ground. “I know you villains love your heroes… weak.”

The villain tightens his grip to stop the blade from shaking in his hand. The superhero looks mildly amused by his apprehension, as if she belongs here, as if she always has. She hums a laugh, turning her gaze onto the hero still laying on the floor. “Consider this my résumé.”

The villain’s gaze flits to the hero as well. They haven’t moved. Time is short. “You want in with us?”

The superhero positively beams like he’s solved an age-old puzzle. “I’m sure a bunch like you could find some use in an authority like me.”

The villain has to believe her. He tucks his knife back into his belt and kneels down to the hero. “Dramatic change in career path.”

“Who’s to say this wasn’t always the plan?” The superhero watches as the villain unravels bandages from a well-used roll. “You wouldn’t take me in as a novice, so I’ve made myself valuable. Wouldn’t you say so?”

A superhero genuinely being on their side is undeniably, colossally valuable. The villain carefully wraps the larger of the hero’s wounds in the dressing. Wounds the superhero has inflicted, for what? Personal gain? To prove something? Where’s the line in what she wants?

The hero makes some incoherent noise of discomfort from the floor. A smile teases at the corner of the superhero’s mouth, like this is right, like this is exactly what she wants.

The villain’s attention is so focused on keeping his hands gentle against the hero’s pain that he takes a second too long to realise the superhero is inviting herself further inside.

“What—” is halfway through coming out.“Might as well meet my future coworkers, huh?” She laughs again, like this situation is highly amusing. Like she holds the cards and she knows it. The villain hates it, but she does. “I bet they’ll love me. Everyone always does.”

#creative writing #writblr #writers on tumblr #writing #writing community #heroes and villains #hero x villain #todays the dayyyyyyy #made a post asking for beta readers!!! im so so so scared!!!!!#like i know i share my writing with yall but this is different somehow #ive poured almost 3 years of my life into this book. my heart. my soul. i was a girl when i started writing it #its been fun but its a relief that this part is over

88 notes · View notes

scarlettjohanssons-mistress · 1 year

Note

I don’t if ur request are still open but if they are I was wondering if I could request lady lesso x reader we’re they are in a secret relationship and they got kissing or something by dovey

She is different

Warnings: Secret relationship, jealousy, fluff, warrior princess, bad liars

Word count: 2.3 K

Pairing: Lady Lesso x Fem!Reader

Prompt: It is impossible to hide that Lady Lesso was completely captivated from the first moment she saw Y/N

Requests: OPEN

[Main masterlist] [Charlize Theron characters masterlist]

From the moment Y/N set foot in the school, the green eyes of the dean of evil did not stop admiring her figure.

Despite having a 'thin' build and short stature, Y/N wasn't your typical princess. The legends that ran through the corridors of the school, recounted the great feats that she had achieved as the star warrior of the greatest known kingdom; making the redheaded dean's curiosity grow with the passage of time.

Lady Lesso had always met the stereotype of the perfect princess, just like Dovey herself; so, hearing that that sweet-looking princess had been commissioned to slaughter thousands of enemies, just to protect the queen, only made it inevitable that Lady Lesso would wander into Miss Y/N's class.

Y/N was one of the first teachers to get a mixed class, getting both 'Ever' and 'Never' to learn to defend themselves and attack in combat, from small combats in a classroom of the, now, gigantic school, to fights that They executed on the school horses in the large gardens of the same.

At first, Dovey thought that Leonora's presence was due to concern (if that's what it could be called) for the performance of her students, but seeing how those eyes sparkled with a strange sparkle every time Miss Y/N, she brandished that weapon to teach the young princes how to defend themselves, she thought that her assumptions were not entirely correct. Lesso never missed a Y/N class, not even on the days they had practices in the gardens just like they were doing today; having a great simulated fight in the gardens of that castle.

A few minutes before class ended, Professor Dovey approached the stables, knowing that her students would arrive there, only to realize that Leonora was already there, staring at Professor T/N's braided hair

"My, what a surprise to find you here, Lesso," Dovey teased, smoothing the non-existent wrinkles from her beautiful dress.

“I would like to say the same”

Silence reigned for a few minutes, both with their eyes fixed on the training, until Dovey's gaze returned to rest on her senior partner, noticing how small and tiny black hearts came out of them.

"May I ask? What has been the reason why you delight us with your pleasant presence?" Dovey tried to persuade her partner, causing the redheaded teacher to just make a small face.

"No, you can't ask" she replied, in her typical annoyed voice.

Before Dovey could object to such behavior, the murmurs and laughter of the students, together with the galloping of the horses reached the ears of both women, causing their eyes to look at the boys, who quickly entered the stable to to let the steeds rest. Y/N was coming backwards, on top of her own horse.

"Oh, hi Dovey, I didn't see you there."

While Dovey and Y/N never became the best of friends (as Dovey always thought that a rebellious mind like Y/N didn't quite belong on the 'Ever' side), they have been courteous to each other, and more when Dovey found out that thanks to that woman, many of her friends and students were still alive.

“Lady Lesso, it is always a pleasure to greet you”

And for her counterpart was that beautiful redhead. When they were both young, Y/N remembered feeling self-conscious, clumsy, and even naive around her (the few times they happened to meet); when Y/N was taken to her friend Jade's kingdom to become what she always dreamed of, a warrior, she assured herself that if she ever met Leonora again, she would no longer be that shy girl; if she was capable of killing men in the name of what she considered fair, she was clearly capable of meeting this woman.

When the school received her, after those injuries that made it impossible for her to fight again, seeing how both the 'Evers' and the 'Nevers' young people applauded her with admiration, made her feel even more powerful. She was capable of instilling respect, pride and admiration on both sides.

Everything went overboard when her eyes collided with those of the dean of evil.

At first, he didn't recognize her, but, Y/N couldn't get over those beautiful eyes so quickly.

She felt how her knees began to give out, even a little unsure if she would be able to cross the entire room on her own.

To say that Leonora Lesso was beautiful was an understatement, the woman was the epitome of beauty and sensuality. Those green eyes like the grass bathed in morning dew, rosy lips like the petals of the most fragile flowers in her home kingdom, and that wild hair, like the flames she had seen on many of her travels.

She thought that with the weight of time, the impression before such a woman would diminish… but that never happened. Even to this day, she could feel the penetrating gaze of the dean in each and every one of her lessons, waiting for some mistake on the part of the young warrior, just to be able to take advantage and unleash her fury against her.

"Oh dear, that was a wonderful class," Dovey congratulated, watching as Y/N climbs down from the horse and begins to stroke the animal's head, while her other hand begins to remove the animal's saddle.

“Well, Dovey, thank…”

"Well, I expected to see someone injured" Leonora's hoarse voice commented.

Both Dovey's glare and Y/N's puzzled glare landed on the tall figure of the woman.

"Leonora!" Dovey scolded

“Well, my lady, I'm sorry to disappoint you this time. I promise that in the next class one of yours will have to be attended to urgently" Y/N joked, watching out of the corner of her eye, how the dean raised the corners of her mouth a little, showing a little amusement.

"Y/N!" Dovey scolded again, the princess looked at how her companion's corners were slightly raised, but, realizing the look, she quickly returned to her usual straight lips. "Both are impossible, I'd better go"

"I'd better go too" announced the redhead "I wouldn't like to see those freaks behave in a proper way"

"I hope that's not the case" Y/N joked again, watching how both deans walked away to let her clean the stable in peace.

———————————————————————————

Night came, and with it, secrecy and mystery.

T/N had always been taught that night was the time for evil, the terrifying and the forbidden. Over the years, she realized that it was not entirely true; night was the time for secrets, intrigue, curiosity, mystery, and of course, the forbidden.

A knock at her door startled the poor girl, who quickly put aside her parchment and quill to open the door, revealing those sweet green eyes.

"Until you deign to open"

“It was only seconds, don't be exaggerating”

"Well, seconds that could well be used in something else"

"Like what?"

"Maybe kiss you"

If Y/N were ever to tell that the fearsome dean of Evil had a soft spot for honeyed words and cheek kisses, no one would believe her. But, here she was, leaving a trail of little kisses on Y/N's cheeks.

"Today you were splendid" she murmured against her ear.

"Do you believe it?"

"Oh sweet girl, I've never seen someone attack like that before. No warrior will ever be as great and skillful as you are."

“Oh honey, you flatter me, but, out there, there are thousands of warriors far better prepared than me. It took me years to convince my parents to teach me how to wield a sword, whereas these men are required to do so at a very young age."

“Well, princess, that just proves my point. You are beautiful, intelligent, strong, brave and capable woman, what more could I ask for?" Leonora spoke while her arms embraced the small waist of her beloved, bringing her closer to her chest, so that she could smell a little of her hair.

"Maybe a make-out session in my bed?" the princess asked cheekily

“Wow, that sounds like a great idea to me”

———————————————————————————

Dovey's feet made it impossible for her to stay still. She was so anxious that, without realizing it, her feet moved her throughout her office, until she heard how the doors were opened violently, listening to Leonora's unmistakable walk, along with the annoying clicking of her cane.

"Well Clarissa, I'm here now, what do you want?"

But, seeing Leonora's raised eyebrow, the question stuck in her throat. Lady Lesso was well known for being the thorn in Professor Dovey's side, so wasn't it fair to get even a little revenge?

“I've been thinking about doing a new dance,” Dovey commented, performing in her everyday way: bubbly and happy.

"Other?" Leonora asked tiredly "Wouldn't it be like… the eighth this month?"

"Oh Leo, but this is for a special occasion"

"What could be so special as to warrant a school dance?" Now, the dean desperate, she crossed her arms, tapping her forearm with her nails.

“I have found the perfect prince for Y/N”

Lesso felt how the blood ran down from her head to her feet, making her fist take that stick with more force, until leaving her white knuckles.

"What?" she slumped into the chair across from Dovey, not helplessly, but furiously. "I thought I heard from Y/N's own mouth that she didn't want a prince in her life"

"Well, we can all change our minds, and believe me, when she see Prince Henry, her mind will change."

“Henry? What kind of name is Henry? It sounds completely ridiculous…”

"Leonora, if I didn't know you well enough, I would dare to say that you are jealous" Dovey teased, raising an eyebrow.

Lesso only managed to let out a sarcastic laugh, causing Dovey to laugh internally.

"Jealous? Of whom? Of your star princess? Not at all! I just make fun of the poor girl, having to deal with a man as… simple as this Henry"

"But if you don't know him yet"

"I don't even want to meet him" Lesso got up again, with her cruel director's facade, she hit the cane against the ground emphasizing her next words "So, was that all? Is that why you wanted to call me?"

"Yes, just to let you know to prepare your best clothes, because Y/N is getting married soon"

Dovey only listened as her companion's footsteps receded and with her, small murmurs, only affirming Dovey's theory.

———————————————————————————

Unfortunately for Lesso, the dance came faster than she could process. Before she least wanted to know it, Dovey had introduced stupid, muscular, pretty face Prince Henry and Y/N and forced them into the middle of the room to do a little waltz.

"Don't you think they make a cute couple?" Dovey asked

"Oh yes, can you imagine how cute their babies would be?" Emma asked.

“They will have beauty and courage alike”

Lesso only felt her blood boil. She promised herself (and Y/N) that she wouldn't kill anyone again, but at that moment, the bloody prince had a red target painted across the middle of his face, taunting Leonora. One more torture wouldn't hurt anyone… except him.

"What?!" Emma's loud scream snapped Lesso out of her thoughts, causing her to let out a growl to get the attention of her companions.

"How much do they murmur?"

"Dovey just told me that Prince Henry is planning to propose to Y/N tonight." Emma groaned and clapped her hands, showing her excitement.

"What?"

“At least, the young prince confessed to me this morning. He said he would take her to the balcony to do it” commented Dovey trying to hide her emotion.

"There they go!" Emma pointed out.

And indeed, both were heading to the balcony, getting away from the bustle of people.

Without thinking about it, Leonora got up from her chair and began to follow the young people, until she found her beloved, with her back turned and completely alone.

"Y/N" Leonora murmured, causing the girl to turn around and give her a smile.

"Hi!"

"Where is the prince?"

"I punched him when he tried to kiss me"

Both women laughed, knowing that no one could be lucky enough to kiss Y/N's lips. Nobody except Leonora.

"He's an idiot"

"Yeah, next time Dovey wants to find me a boyfriend, I hope she finds a better one."

"There won't be a next one"

"Honey, we won't know, if we carry on like this…"

"I don't want to continue like this" Leonora cut off Y/N's sentence while her arms hugged her girl's waist. "Yes this is the feeling the got from hiding you, I don't want to feel it again" the dean buried her head in the crook of Y/N's neck.

"Are you sure, my love?" Y/N's soft but firm hands took Leonora's face, forcing her to look at her and be honest. “I know how much your reputation has cost you and I wouldn't want it to be affected by me. We can be discreet…”

"Fuck discretion, I just don't want to see you in the arms of another jerk like that Henry guy"

And without further ado, Lesso planted a kiss on her beloved's lips, proving that the love he feels for her is worth much more than her stupid reputation.

Carefully, Y/N encircled her girlfriend's neck and stood on her toes deepening the kiss full of feelings, affection and true love, in the light of the full moon.

"I told you, you owe me five doubloons" Dovey joked as she and Emma watched as their friend Leo finally admitted her love for that girl.

“It amazes me, how being so different, they seem to work well"

"She's different" Dovey pointed at Y/N with a look "Lesso is just… Lesso"

Note:

Maybe tomorrow I'll upload a little message for my followers for Christmas… but if you don't see it, Merry Christmas!

I hope you enjoy it

I appreciate the reblogs, the likes and the comments

taglist: @littlebitchsposts

message me or send an ask to be added to my taglist!

#the school for good and evil #lady lesso x reader #lady lesso #lady leonora lesso x reader #lady leonora lesso #leonora lesso x reader #leonora lesso #sge #sge movie #charlize theron x reader #charlize theron #clarissa dovey #professor dovey

658 notes · View notes

soapybutt17 · 7 months

Text

Coldest Night

Summary: What if your worse nightmare has come to life?

Character: John Price x F!Wife!Reader. Simon "Ghost" Riley. Kyle "Gaz" Garrick. John "Soap" MacTavish.

Word Count: 1,702

Chapter Warnings: Angst. Character Death(s). Life threatening injuries. Mentions of blood loss. Mentions of violence. Major Spoiler for MW3.

A/N: To the anon that sent me the request, just know that i know you had good intentions, but i am not over mw3 and what they had done to my boy Soap and now i'm just down right sad again. didn't go into too much detail for soap's part cuz the wound is still fresh and my boy did not deserve what happened to him. :'(

Masterlist | Series Masterlist || Request are Open || Join My Taglist

John “Soap” MacTavish

The day that you had learned Soap was KIA, you had fallen to your knees in the middle of the base and had sobbed your heart out. Johnny had always had a special place in your heart. Out of the three, you had worried about Soap the most knowing how his tendency to act brashly had ended with him more injured than he needed to be.

You mourned his death worse than anyone else in the base. You were the one that had to make the call to his family, letting them know about Soap’s passing. How it had been so hard for you to hold the tears as you listened to his parents crying through the other line. You still held a level of professionalism as you explained to his family the next step that was needed to be taken and you would be helping them all throughout wherever they may need you.

Early on, a part of you would begin to blame each and every single one of the boys. They had made a promise to you that they would keep an eyes on each other. But they broke it, you had unfortunately displaced most of your anger towards your husband, who’s already filled with guilt knowing Soap had died under his command, Soap had died saving him from Makarov.

But slowly but surely you began to heal, learning that you should not have blamed anyone of the boys for what has happened—especially your husband. The man was already plagued with his own guilt, Survivor’s guilt as the therapist you had forced all three of them to take had explained. You had your own guilt, knowing if only you had been there for the mission, you could have made difference. But at the end of the day, there was no use thinking of the what ifs. It was about learning to move on.

It was in Soap’s death that you and your husband have decided to retire. The fear of having to lose either Gaz or Ghost haunted you both. It was no a decision either of you would be willing to make any longer. You couldn’t in your conscious allow another meaningless death because of a war be on either of your hands.

Even as the years has passed since Soap’s death, you had never forgotten the man and all the memories that you had shared with him in your time as part of the Taskforce. You were still mourning just as much as your husband, but it was slowly but surely getting better. It had also become your mission of constantly checking up on the two boys, proud that they’ve gotten themselves promoted as Captain and Lieutenant respectfully. They had both deserved it, more than either of them would believe, Soap would have been their number one support should he still been alive to witness it all.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

“Don’t you fucking die on me, Riley!”

Even as hard as you try to keep the wound covered, Simon was losing so much blood that you were slowly but surely doubting if he would be able to make it. It was stupid of him to take the bullet to save you. Completely and utterly stupid of him to do this to you now when he finally has a life to live.

“You deserve to live, you’ve got the Captain and the little princess waiting for you back home.” Simon gasp, even as hard as he tries to be strong, pain was very well written on his masked face.

Your hands dug further onto his stomach where the bullet wound resides. All of your medical training has faded from your mind as panic continued to settle. Tearing your sleeves off, you placed it onto his stomach, hoping it would add to the gauze stopping the wound from bleeding further out.

“You fucking deserve to live too.” You snapped, radioing back up again. A single tear was shed as you were given an ETA of an hour.

Simon might not make it in an hour.

“I want you to promise me something, Rookie.” He coughed, his shaking hand slowly pulled off his mask revealing his pale face, and blood loss was slowly but surely manifesting. “Promise me that you’ll bury me in my home town, not as Ghost, but as Simon Riley.”

You sobbed, knowing what his request had entailed. His past that had once haunted him all throughout his life and his career. He was ready to leave it all behind and live and die finally as the man behind the mask.

“Bury me with me Mum and brother.”

“Okay.” You nod, sobbing now as he clasped onto your hands pulling it away from the wound on his stomach.

“Thank you for being the Mum I thought I could never have again.” He whispered cupping your cheeks with his bloodied hand before his hands fell and his eyes closed.

Death had taken him from you and all you could do was sob, shaking him awake, ignoring the voice of your husband and the rest of the team that had grown concern that your sobs would notify their enemies of your whereabouts, but it truly didn’t matter. You’ve lost Simon, your boy. The man that you had loved like he was your own, and the man you had promised your husband to protect when you had agreed to go on this mission with him.

You had failed Simon, just as much as you had failed to keep your promise with John. You would never see yourself ever stepping back onto a mission again after this. You had vowed to yourself never to because of it.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

“How is he?”

It’s been three days of no sleep for you. You had refused to leave the confinements of the cold plastic chair that was situated outside of the hospital room where Kyle was in. No one, not even your husband could coerce you into leaving your place outside of the room.

John, Soap, and Simon had begun taking turns in giving you food, coffee, or change of clothes. But nothing could truly make you leave your position until you were sure that Kyle was stable and as far away from any sorts of danger.

But you should have expected something like this to happen. A mission gone wrong would always end with someone getting compromised. You were thankful that it was just an injury—as severe as it had been for the past few days, it was better than dealing with a funeral and paper works that come along with it.

You were still shaken up after you’ve been notified that Kyle was compromised. You dropped everything and made your way here in the hospital. All thoughts of work and your obligations were placed in the backburner until you were certain he was going to be alright.

“Stable.” The Doctor’s single word had washed all the relief onto your body. It was all you needed to know.

“Damages?” You inquired.

“Broken collar bone and hairline fracture to the skull, but they will heal. What I want him to focus more on is healing the few bullet wounds to the stomach he dealt with. We were able to remove most of the bullets and fragments, but we will not be certain about any underlying damage until after he wakes up.”

You nod. In the years of knowing Kyle, you know he would be able to get back from this, but knowing the damages that he had to endure because of this mission, there was this fear that just doesn’t seem to leave you. What if there was something wrong that would change his life in a way that no one would help him with.

“When will he be able to wake up then?”

“When he is good and ready.”

You nodded, thanking the doctor for the update. Slumping back onto the chair, you sighed resting your face onto your hand. Only now did you feel the fatigue and lack of sleep finally get to you.

“How are you holding up, Darling?”

Looking up, the sight of your husband was a welcome comfort for you in this very moment. He sat beside you with his arm immediately wrapping around your shoulder. Only now did you also come to realize the shiver that run through your body at the lack of coat.

“Better than Kyle is.” You muttered.

“He’s gonna be alright.” John’s reassurance did nothing to you in the moment, but you held onto it still. Every single reassurance that was given to you, you would take.

“I hope so,” You muttered. “He was supposed to be on drill duties next week.” You hoped a little humor could ease away your worries.

“And he still will when he wakes up.” John reassured with a chuckle. “I’ll make sure of it, My Love.”

“What if he doesn’t come out of this the same way?”

“Then we will help him adjust to the civilian life should it be the choice he makes for himself.” He answered immediately. “We will not know for sure, but whatever happens, it is our duty and our responsibility to make sure all three of those Muppets are well taken care of whether they still work for us or not.”

You nodded understanding very well what he was trying to say.

“I just can’t stop worrying about him. I don’t know how he’s doing right now and what he’s feeling.”

“I worry about him too.” John admits sighing. “But we will resolve nothing if all we do is worry about him and the other two.”

You nodded. Only now did you realize that for the past few days, your husband had allowed you the time to take it all in. How one member of your team being compromised as Kyle was right now would not be the first time that it would happen and you were certain it would not be the last.

You had your duty just like John did. With Kyle now in the clear, it was only time for you to regroup and deal with the mess you’ve left behind in the base.

116 notes · View notes

izukuwus · 1 year

Text

(they all have) so much meaning - Midoriya Izuku/Reader (18+)

Next (coming soon?) - M.list - Ao3

A/N: ok so despite the spiderweb thing I actually did most of the writing for this BEFORE I watched across the spiderverse and veered clear into my government-mandated spider-man phase. I kind of want the tattoo, though.

(why yes, I DO default to The Front Bottoms lyrics every time I can't think of a good title for a fic. it's bc I'm right.)

Summary: It's your third date with your long-standing no-longer-crush, and Izuku just found out that you had a tattoo. You let him take a long look.

Warnings: public sex, oral (reader receiving), afab reader, reader has a tattoo, exhibitionism

Notes: Reader has a tattoo and established quirk. Yes, they're a literal emotional vampire. I can only write so much without vampires getting involved.

Word Count: 3600+

Midoriya Izuku is a pretty boy with sharp teeth and a brilliant mind. He does not possess the mind for what one would call a normal conversation, really, but you knew that long before agreeing to the first date, let alone the second.

By the end of date three, you’re honestly proud of him. I mean, neither of you got through the date without stuttering, which is fucking ridiculous given how long you’ve known each other, but compared to the first date’s rocky start, you both did a fantastic job! You completed the date with minimal stuttering between the two of you, and thanks to your quirk, you’re confident in saying both of you feel a fond sadness as he drives you home. You could have taken the train—planned on it, actually—but he’d insisted, and who were you to not say yes, if only to bask in his presence a little longer?

“I didn’t know you had a car,” you confess. You’re sitting on your hands, self-conscious for a myriad of reasons, least of all because having sat on your hands has left you hyperaware of how much thigh is visible in this skirt. “Is it new?”

Stupid question. It’s obviously new, and nice, too. Admittedly, you don’t know shit about cars, but you do know enough to be able to tell when one is nice. It’s shiny, for one, with a sleek, vintage look and classic black paint, and you don’t have to be a genius to know that any car with a convertible top is probably not super cheap. The seats, too, are luxurious—a dark, soft leather that caresses your legs quite nicely.

The trouble with leather is, again, directly correlated with how much thigh is exposed by this skirt. Being July, the world is hot and sticky, which means miniskirts, which means issues around gross men, windy days, and leather fucking car seats.

“It is, actually!” He lets out a nervous laugh. It’s strange to see him driving, strange to see scarred hands confidently turning the wheel. Izuku had asked if you wanted the top down, since it was a hot day, and nice out, and—

You had agreed with a nervous bubble of laughter. The novelty of it was a good draw. You’d heard “top down” from pretty lips and agreed without a second thought.

The thing about Midoriya Izuku is that, for all the years you’ve been friends—since entering high school, really—you have danced around one another like this.

Nervous laughter, words flowing so easily that they slip right past your filter or otherwise don’t make it to your lips. Honestly, you don’t need him to tell you that he didn’t mean to ask you on the first date when he did—he had the same affliction, where things were said too easily and then followed by the cringe. Hindsight is always 20/20, which meant that the moment he'd asked to take you out to a movie and let the word "date" slip, he was immediately running damage control, and you'd let "I'd like a date, actually" slip before you really realized the ramifications of it. So you had gone home to panic and squeal, and he had gone home to panic and squeal, and now here you were, three dates down with the rising star of the hero world, a title you did not begrudge him.

“Since when did you need a car with that quirk?” you tease. Right now, it’s easy. The nerves of being with someone who wants you instead of just likes you don’t strangle your throat.

“Well, I could have just carried you home, but I think that might draw too much attention?” The thoughtful look in his eye slides away to something else as he casts a glance your way, maybe a bit lower, and his face burns red before you. “Not to mention, um, it might not be advisable, um…”

You got the message. You shift a little in your seat in hopes that it’ll give the fabric cause to slide down a little bit. “Y-yeah, uh, maybe not. I’ll have to wear shorts underneath next time!”

Another glance at your thigh before the light turns green. You try not to think about the little surge in his emotions pressing insistently at you. His cheeks seem impossibly redder, and he turns his eyes to the road, ever dedicated to safe driving practices. “I-if you want! You looked really nice tonight, though! I mean it!”

It’s mildly amusing, watching him flounder like this. If you had less shame, you might revel in seeing his face go full strawberry just to pay you a compliment, especially after having fought a few villains alongside him and having seen that version of Izuku in action. He’s borderline unrecognizable like this, making still-nervous conversation and trying not to stare at your legs as he drives you home.

The fluttery, nervous energy between you is, if nothing else, good fuel for your quirk, and you catch it in the air and stock it away until the pair of you reach your destination.

“Thanks again.” You flash him your best smile as he parks, and you’re unsurprised to see him move to open your car door. Such a gentleman. “For driving me home, I mean. I would have made it home fine, but…”

“It’s not a problem at all! I wanted to.” He opens your door, offers you a hand, and once again, you regret the skirt.

In your defense, the skirt had passed the date check. It covers your ass, covers your tattoo when standing, and was cute enough to justify wearing out of the house!

It does not, however, pass the car check, which is what you discover as a movement to unstick your thighs from the seat also has the hem riding up far enough to show off your tattoo. You know, the one you didn’t tell anyone you got. The one whose location you picked because (and I quote) “if anyone I’m not actively sleeping with sees it, we have bigger problems than their opinions on my tattoo”. That tattoo. That someone you are not actively sleeping with (not yet, anyway) just got an eyeful of. Most of, at least.

He’s practically babbling, avoiding eye contact as he apologizes and helps you out of the car. “I-I didn’t know you got a tattoo.”

“Oh, uh, yeah! I did! I lost a bet with Mina and had to get something done, so I thought I’d go for something cute.” You nearly babble the words, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Cute” is not the word you had used to describe the design when you’d come up with it, and the bet you lost was really just a pretense so you had an excuse to get the tattoo anyway, but, you know. It’s the little things as far as word choice is concerned.

You rub the back of your neck. “It didn’t hurt as bad as I thought it would, actually. And the artist did a great job with it!”

“I didn’t get to see it really well, but I’m sure they did a really good job!”

“I mean, I could show you,” you reply, and there it is. Once again, your words beat your brain to the punch.

“I’d like to, if you’re comfortable with it!”

And there’s his burst of nervous energy, which, to be fair, hasn’t gone down a bit since you met at the restaurant earlier this evening, only climbed. You’ve learned that when you feel that particular spike of energy arc off him, it’s him doing the exact “say things you mean but don’t mean to say” thing you do. Small comforts, you suppose.

“Sure,” you manage, and then you’re lifting the hem of your skirt to show him the tattoo in all its glory.

Its design is that of a garter wrapping around your thigh, delicate lace forming spider webs in the “band” of the tattoo. It’s pretty, it’s possibly a bite too sexy, and it’s perhaps a bit too far up your thigh to be showing off in any way anyone would consider modest. In the dark of your poorly-lit driveway, Izuku seems to find himself crouching and leaning in to be able to properly inspect your inked thigh, and you feel a little surge of something wave off of him.

It’s not until you let that particular energy feed you and compare it to your own feelings that you realize he’s turned on. Part of it might be the position—the fire racing through your veins at lifting your skirt up partway for a pretty face crouching in front of you is likely matched by being the pretty face crouching before your date’s lifted skirt. Just as quick as it came, it’s replaced by a hot flush of shame, an emotion you know well.

That one, you don’t need to guess the source of. Izuku’s spent countless hours talking to you about the intricacies of your quirk over the years, and by now he’s more than aware that you feel every little surge of emotional energy around you, having given his permission to you to feed off of whatever he puts out.

When he lingers staring just a bit too long, you slowly lower your skirt and manage a nervous laugh. “So what do you think?”

“It’s a really well-done tattoo! I like the design, it’s very, uh—hot. I mean! Pretty! It’s pretty! I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that, that was completely inappropriate and you probably don’t think of me that way and I swear I’m not the kind of guy who—“

“Izuku.” This time, there’s no nerves in your laughter. “Did you think I was platonically lifting my skirt for you?”

He freezes. You draw a blank from the air between you, and he stares, flush-faced and wide-eyed, at you. “Lift it all the way, then,” he breathes, and then comes the panic. “Oh my god. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I’msosorry—“

You wish you could say that you had some cool, flirtatious response ready to go, some smooth line that would get you branded pick up artist extraordinaire, but you’re rendered entirely speechless. The thought that perhaps this is moving faster than normal relationships might flits past your brain as you grasp the sides of your skirt in two fists and lift it the rest of the way.

His frantic apologies die in his throat. For a moment, you think he dies, too—even his emotional signature is completely blank. He rests, half-crouched, green eyes cataloging the sight like he’s studying for a test. He sucks in an audible breath as he processes it and the heat of arousal floods back from him. You like to think it’s because of one detail you didn’t really expect to come up tonight:

Your tattoo matches your panties.

Izuku is surging attraction towards you in waves intense enough that you’re sure someone else must be able to feel them. There’s no one here to notice, though.

It is an eternity of him staring at your bare thighs, inked lace and real lace maybe two inches from touching, and then he is bringing calloused fingers up to hover just above the ink in your skin. “M-may I, uh—“

You try not to flinch when those same calloused fingers rest on plush flesh. He traces the lines of the tattoo almost reverently, eyes following his fingertips, occasionally flicking upwards just a bit, and you keep your eyes locked on his expression the entire time.

So focused on watching his face, you miss his fingers trailing inwards. You don’t miss them when they brush at the place your thighs kiss. Another little flinch, but this time he retreats to gauge your expression. “Is this okay?” he’s asking you. Your mind is tethered to the spot where his fingers rest on too-hot skin. “I-I don’t want to push too hard or assume anything, and—“

Your words are failing you, but you give a frantic nod. You’re not convinced you’ve ever been this turned on in your life, you’ve lost track of the feel of his emotions pressing against yours, and the only words coming to your mind at this point are: New kink. Score.

You think he thanks you as his fingers slide across your skin, but you can’t be too sure, because his fingers have left the tattoo to climb in agonizing slow motion up your thigh. They brush, rough and so, so gentle against the lace of your panties, and this time, you flinch properly, fabric slipping from your fingers to rest on his wrist.

The look Izuku gives you is uncharacteristic and nearly stern. “I want to see,” he says, gentle and sweet, as though he’s pleading with you to show him some innocent photo rather than to keep your skirt held up for his viewing pleasure.

Automatically, you’re lifting your skirt again, and he nods in appreciation. “If at any point you want me to stop, or slow down, or… any of that, tell me?”

“Mhm. I promise.”

“Good,” he says, and it’s so dangerously close to what you really want to hear that you have to suppress a shudder.

Again his fingers brush the lace covering your sex, and this time, you don’t drop the skirt. You hold it tight, even as Izuku’s fingers press into the space between your thighs, and you find yourself leaning back against his car for support. When his other hand rests on your opposite knee and pushes outwards just a touch, you let your legs part in turn.

You have the sense he hasn’t done this much. You know he hasn’t, actually—you have on good authority that he has precious little experience in the romance department, and, having been more or less in love with him for several years now, you aren’t faring much better. Maybe that’s why it’s so electric when he presses an experimental line on the outside of your panties. Maybe that’s why the shame burns so hot when his fingertip comes away damp.

His voice comes out a whisper. He’s staring up at your face in awe. “Are you…”

You nod, squeezing your eyes shut tight. “This is, like… insanely hot. You’re insanely hot.”

“Good,” he breathes, and then he’s slipping his hand past the band of your panties and touching you directly.

You jump a little at the contact, biting your lip to keep from gasping out. One experimental finger dips into you, and you take it readily.

That same finger leaves you quickly, and then you feel him tentatively tugging down your panties. When you peek at him, you find big, green eyes silently asking your permission.

“Please,” you whisper.

The panties are dragged down to your ankles, and then he’s returning to you in full force, sliding a single finger in and out of your hole, curling it inside you as though he’s figuring out how you react to each motion. Before long, he’s adding a second finger, moving so slow it’s torture more than pleasure.

He’s experimenting. Learning.

Your stomach flutters at the thought—he was always a fast learner. Too late, you realize that, oh shit, he just felt that, and now he’s staring up at you with wide eyes and red-stained cheeks.

“More,” you plead. “Please, ‘Zuku.”

The name slips from your lips so easily you almost forget you’ve pushed to a new level with him. He doesn’t seem to mind, though, except that he stops and retreats again, to your whiny distress.

“Can you spread them for me?”

“My legs?”

He shakes his head. “I want to see everything.”

Oh.

You shift so you’re holding your skirt in the center, and then a hand slides down to spread your lips for his viewing pleasure. He hums in contentment, and you’re aware of a subtle shifting of his position, though you’re not sure why.

“Trust me?”

“Always.”

That’s the only trigger he needs—he doesn’t return to fingering you, but those hands, large and scarred and rough against your skin, wrap around behind you as he replaces fingers with his mouth.

First a tentative taste, then a starved lick like a man starved, and oh, he’s always been good with his mouth, hasn’t he? Rambling, mumbling, brilliant thoughts have nothing on the feeling of his tongue as it finally plunges into you, the starved way he eats you out.

He’s still experimenting with you, still playing with you, but the curiosity of it all steadily falls away as he lets his instincts take the lead. When he at last brushes your clit and you gasp and your knees buckle, he takes note. He holds you up with ease, eyes half-lidded as though he’s torn between losing himself in the act and watching your reactions as he goes.

Two arms holding you up turns to one effortless arm around your waist. You have no time to consider where the other’s gone—he’s plunging those thick, rough fingers into you all over again, sucking on your clit, and suddenly you’re immensely grateful for the arm around your waist, because there’s no chance in hell you’re standing on your own like this.

His motions approach frantic. He is moaning quietly into your pussy, losing himself in it, and you’re grasping desperately for anything to find purchase on and finding only the smooth body of the car.

It doesn’t take you long. Before either of you realize it, you’re quivering, legs going fully weak, biting down on your free hand to keep from moaning out as you cum on his tongue.

He does not stop. He pulls away, just a moment, and you’re aware that you’re moving, but your head’s gone fuzzy from the everything of it all, so it takes you extra time to realize that he’s laid you across the back seat and climbed on top of you, lips pressed against your own. He keeps breaking away to mumble apologies against your lips—I’m sorry, I wanted our first kiss to be romantic, I wanted all of this to be romantic but I’m—and you find the cognizance within yourself to swallow those apologies with another kiss. You taste salty on his lips.

He is melting into the kiss, pulling away somewhat less frantic than he had been, eyes studying your face.

You quirk a smile his way. “Is it too forward to tell you I think you’re hot?”

He huffs a little breath of laughter against your lips. “Only if it’s too forward for me to say the same.”

You giggle, wind your arms around his neck. “Not too forward, I’d say.”

His hand trails up your side, fingers toying with the edge of your shirt. You’re glad, also, for the choice to wear a button-down over a tank top. The decision had been risky, and it’s not like you picked this outfit for access, but you’re appreciating that access now. He’s not even seen you naked yet, but he’s looking over you beneath him reverently, trailing fingertips up and down your clothed side.

“I can’t believe how gorgeous you are,” he confesses in a murmur. And then: “I always thought you’d look pretty underneath me. You always looked pretty, of course! I just mean… wow.”

“I haven’t even taken my clothes off for you yet.”

“If you seriously think you need to take your clothes off for me to think you’re the hottest thing alive, I don’t even know what to tell you.”

“Oh come on. You’re exaggerating.”

He grinds his hips down into you, and oh fuck. Maybe he’s not. “Does that feel like exaggerating to you?”

It was barely a moment, but that little press of his hips to yours was enough to be sure of one thing: he’s big. Between the muscles and the package between his legs, you are well set to be split in half.

You welcome the opportunity.

“Mm, I’m not sure. Better do that again so I can check.”

Another drag of his lips against yours. Another roll of his hips against yours. This he grants you eagerly, groaning into your mouth.

Something presses at you that’s not him and his devastatingly horny state.

You intake a breath, pull away, press a hand to his mouth. He gets the message, easily—someone is nearby. A neighbor, stepped outside for a moment. He takes the hint, presses his whole body against yours in an attempt to conceal himself from view.

When the presence leaves, and you’re sure you have the advantage of privacy again, you give him a little nod and peel your hand from his mouth.

A small smile, a small laugh. “I think we might have finally cleared the air between us.”

He tilts his head down at you with just a touch of mischief in his eyes. “I thought we were doing good.”

“We were! We were also an entire trainwreck.”

His cheeks tinge pink. “I-I was doing my best!”

“I know. We both were.” You ghost a kiss onto his nose. “We should head inside, though.”

“Inside?” he squeaks, as though it’s something scandalous.

“You do realize you just ate me out in the middle of the parking lot, right? I think you’re maybe at the point where I can invite you into my apartment.”

“Right. Yeah. Right.”

“You’ve been in my apartment before. You helped me move in!”

He whines, buries his face in your neck. “That was different!”

“Oh, poor ‘Zuku. But you know, if you come inside, I could return the favor…”

You’re not really sure what configuration of anything makes it happen, but one moment, you’re sprawled underneath him in the backseat of his car, the next, he has you in his arms bridal-style, as though you weigh nothing at all.

He takes the staircase one flight at a time. You don’t go back on your word.

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory @stxrrielle @snowymaltese @graywrites20

OKAY we are revamping the taglist. I've wiped it of all except recent requests just to quickly weed out inactive blogs.

If you'd like to be tagged, let me know by either replying, reblogging, or sending an ask letting me know what you'd like to be tagged in! (Eg. updates to this fic, all izuku fics, only nsfw fics, only sfw fics, all bnha fics, etc.) If at any point you'd like to be taken off the taglist, no hard feelings, just let me know!

#my fics #midoriya izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader

168 notes · View notes

sirwow · 6 months

Text

Iv got a ton of headcannon RD thoughts in my head right now so under a cut (since I can be long winded lol) here I’m gonna talk a lot about them. Mostly pertaining to all of the characters

So to start off

Intern (and my own thoughts on them):

My own version of the intern would probably be pretty static- very simple humanoid looking robot, uses wheels to be pushed or roll around so going up elevators is how they get up and down. Still controlled by a remote intern and due to being pretty prototyped they can’t do much other then what the robot it’s built for (pushing buttons!) They do have a simple display that shows a heart rate on their arm and a face display for basic emotions.

Samurai and Insomniac

These guys are weird so their backgrounds get to be just as weird. Samurai and Insomniac both came to Middlesea from Japan (Samurai) and Korea (Insomniac) to compete in a worldwide tournament of katana sparring. Insomniac ended up losing to Samurai after getting no sleep the night before and admittedly got a bit peeved about it. They had a run in when Samurai was celebrating at a nightclub and had a rematch on the dance floor. One drunken fight later they ended up at the hospital and have to be there awhile to sort out the paperwork. They’re on much better terms now and respect each other’s skills.

Bonus stuff: Samurai is bad at speaking English but is very good at writing it, Insomniac is vice versa this. Samurai due to the struggle to show emotions through words usually emotes things physically and doesn’t mind stuff happening as long as he gets to be included. Insomniac has insomnia because of the time difference and not being able to adjust

Logan and Hailey

I feel they’re probably about 15? Old enough to be highschoolers but still pretty childish at times. They’re also both in dance! (I mean com’on two kids being able to just break into slow dance together is pretty impressive) Hailey loves to talk about said fact but Logan is pretty self conscious about being one of the few boys in it. Big baseball fans but didn’t ever play it before lucky as they were a bit scared of being demolished. Met through the before mentioned dance class and hit it off very quickly. Other then that, they’re pretty typical, optimistic and overly energetic teens.

Cole

He’s not originally from Middlesea but instead a few towns over. Got kicked from home as a final choice by his parents when he kept avoiding to get a job and hyper focused on music making. They gave him 1500$ on the way out and still wanted the best for him but in his emotions, cut them off before jumping all the way to Middlesea by train. Shortly after arriving, Cole had his first very bad SVT attack from stress and trying to chug energy shots to stay awake after a very long train ride and got taken to the hospital. Now can’t decide if he wants to get out of the hospital already for music inspiration and to be free or try to stay longer for the sake of having a place to stay and see the new friends he’s made.

Nicole

Gave up on music only a year after highschool when her less well off family couldn’t support her musical ambitions and chose to leave it behind for the sake of a career. Despite not having the title, basically acts as the cafe manager after most her team got laid off. It’s how she can get away with locking up early sometimes or just chilling in the cafe after hours. Dyes her nearly black hair green constantly and learned how to do it herself.

Mr and Mrs Stevenson

Mrs Stevenson is the owner of a bird sanctuary while Mr Stevenson has been retired for awhile due to previous injuries. He always called Mrs in the mornings as she had to always leave early in the morning to take care of her birds. The ones with bow ties are all rescues who were taken in since they were babies and lived at their house. Taught them all how to sing with her and Mr.

Miner

Small town mfer, always took care of his injuries at home and hasn’t really ever been to a hospital till now. Around 35 yrs old and works as a sulfur miner for a team of geologists. Has been mining since 20~ but that time has seriously been taking affect on his body now. Likely won’t be returning to his work after the hospital when he finds out the ramifications of his work. Everyone’s friend, even friendly and kind to Edega.

.. and that’s kinda all Iv got at the moment other then Lucky being thrown off from a real friend group after being in a fake one for so long. I don’t have a lot HCs for the doctors yet other then Ian sorre….

If you made it this far have some cocole doodles for your sake

#ALSOASLO. Cole getting a red hair streak from Nicole when he moves in #rhythm doctor #rhythm doctor writing #rhythm doctor samurai #rhythm doctor insomniac #rhythm doctor hailey #rhythm doctor logan #cole brew #nicole ting #rhythm doctor stevensons #rhythm doctor miner #RD Connections Converged

82 notes · View notes

ashintheairlikesnow · 3 months

Text

A Kindness

CW: Runaway whumpee, referenced hunger/malnourishment

Timeline: After Jameson escaped from Robert but before he found a safehouse

For @amonthofwhump Tropeathon Day 3: A Long Cold Night

It’s fucking freezing out here. Jameson thought California wasn’t supposed to get cold like this, but just his goddamn luck, it definitely does.

He’s curled up against the heavy concrete beneath the overpass, using it to block the worst of the wind. There are a scattering of tents around him, others who have figured out some slim form of shelter. There’s a couple fires going, too, but Jameson doesn’t want anything to do with the people circled around them, sharing stories and in-jokes. They’ve been out here for long enough to know each other. To trust each other, more or less.

Like everywhere else he goes, Jameson doesn’t fit.

He sure as fuck doesn't trust.

When he finds other runaway pets, they think he’s frightening. The twisted scar near his mouth catches the firelight too well. He's too brash, too angry, someone who might be violent.

When he tries to stick around non-pets, they read him like a book and treat him like shit on the bottom of their shoes. Or try to sneak up on him when he sleeps and get a hand down his pants, assuming that he won’t fight back, because everyone knows Box Boys will lie back and take it, right?

Well, Jameson isn’t like other pets.

He isn't just any Box Boy.

Nanda taught him how to survive, no matter what it cost. Nanda taught him-

Goddamn fucking dead Nanda.

If he wasn't so fucking dead none of this would be happening.

Jameson closes his eyes against a hot rush of tears he refuses to allow out, not now. Not when he knows he's being watched, considered for whether he might have a few dollars that could be stolen or if he could be held down and made to accept their touch. He won't be.

The ones who try learn that real fast not to try again, once they have busted lips and black eyes and, in one case, a set of balls so bruised and twisted that the asshole who tried to make Jameson kneel for him is definitely sterile now.

Cold nights make his legs ache, the final loving legacy of the braces he’d worn for too long that never let him stand all the way up. Two goddamn assholes had put those on him, and he'll never be free of the pain. Jameson ignores it, grinds his teeth until his jaw hurts worse than his legs ever could. He can ignore it just fine until the weather gets cold.

Mostly.

There’s a scraping off to his left, footsteps crunching on gravel and shards of broken glass. Jameson’s knife is in his hand as easily as he breathes and he’s already got it brandished when he turns, putting a sneer on his face, leaning into the ugliness of the scar that twists one side of his mouth more than the other. “Listen, motherfucker, try to stick your dick anywhere near me and I’ll fucking cut it off-... shit.”

His voice dies as he takes her in.

She’s small, almost dainty looking. He reads her for what she is in a heartbeat, the grace in every movement carefully trained until it was no longer a conscious choice, the soft skin that had spent a long time moisturized and cared for at odds with the hackjob and clumsy box-dye red she’d done to her hair to try and make herself less recognizable. She’s drowning in a man’s overcoat at least four sizes too big and so long it’s dragging the ground, heavy boots that she has to be wearing at least three pairs of socks to fit into. She’s wearing leather driving gloves too big for her hands.

Her eyes are wide and frightened.

But she's not frightened of him.

She reads him right back, and they recognize each other before a single real word is said. She manages a slight, trembling smile. Jameson feels the snarl fade off his own face. They might have trained together, not that he remembers much of training.

“... can I sit with you tonight?” She asks, voice low, glancing nervously over her shoulder and then back to him. “Please? You’re, you were one too, right?”

Jameson’s jaw works.

He should tell her to fuck off, this is his spot, leave him alone. That he’s not nice, he’s no one anyone can trust. He’s been owned three times and twice they made him live on his hands and knees, once he starved, once he watched people die over and over again until he sees their faces every time he sleeps.

He didn't deserve to be the one who lived after it all, but he's the one who would do anything not to die, so here they are. Here they fucking are.

Instead of rejecting her need for even one small kindness, he replies instead, "Yeah, whatever. Go ahead. Don't try to talk to me about it, though."

He closes the knife, letting it slide back into his pocket as she makes her way to him, dropping down to sit beside him, curling her knees to her chest and pulling a hood up over her head. Jameson feels… settled, at the gentle unassuming touch, her weight barely noticeable when she leans slowly until her head rests on his shoulder. She smells kind of gross, but he probably does, too. Who knows when either of them last showered?

“Sorry,” She whispers as she slides her gloved hand into his, twining their fingers together.

“Uh-... what-... what the fuck are you doing-”

“There’s a guy who won’t stop following me around.” She keeps her voice low, turning and lifting her chin so she’s almost kissing Jameson’s cheek right over his scar as she speaks. “I told him you were my boyfriend. Can you-... just pretend to be, for a while? We’re good at pretending we’re in relationships, you can do it, right? I knew when I saw you that you’d been like me.”

Jameson fights the twist of pain.

Pretending we’re in relationships.

That’s as close as he’s ever going to get, and even that was ripped away from him. Jameson never even got to tell him-

He shuts that thought down.

He doesn’t think about Nanda anymore. He doesn’t think about anyone unless it’s to hate them - that’s easier.

All he does is nod, giving a smile - fake but to anyone else it looks warmly genuine. He can make any expression an owner wants on command, still - the scars and bald patches where hair used to be, rubbed away by the muzzle day after day, make it a little scarier. But it never looks like a lie.

“I got you,” He murmurs back, and kisses her forehead like they’ve known each other for forever.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a man lurking, skulking around, one eye on the girl all the time, watching Jameson slide an arm around her waist with barely concealed jealousy. Jameson shoots him a serene smile, pulling the girl tightly against him.

It’s going to be a long, cold night, and he’s not going to sleep at all.

The girl dozes off almost immediately, finally feeling safe enough to sleep, and that… that helps. A little bit.

It's a kindness.

@finder-of-rings @endless-whump @arlin-always-writing @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @yet-another-heathen @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears @hackles-up @grizzlie70 @mylifeisonthebookshelf @keeper-of-all-the-random-things

#amow tropeathon2024 #day 3 #a long cold night #escaped whumpee #runaway whumpee #jameson bb #scars #scarred whumpee #bbu #box boy #box boy universe

51 notes · View notes

luckbealincoln · 1 year

Text

Best Kept Secret

chapter seven : just friends

THIS SERIES HAS BEEN MOVED AND RE-UPLOADED TO ANOTHER ACCOUNT. WHICH CAN BE FOUND HERE. THIS POST STILL EXISTS AS AN ARCHIVE BUT THIS ACCOUNT IS NO LONGER ACTIVE!!

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 3.1k

summary : you set some ground rules

warnings, etc. : language, smut, oral sex m!receiving

Maker it feels like it’s been an hour and you’re both just laying here. He was just inside of you; it shouldn't be so hard to find something to talk about at this point. Yet you can’t think of a single thing to say. So you sit up on your elbows and sigh, hoping he’ll take the hint and speak up but all he does is mimic your movements.

For a guy who was being pretty dominant a little while ago he sure is bad at taking control of the situation.

“Could you, um… maybe grab me a towel from the vanity?” Your voice is still a little hoarse as you gesture to his cum on your stomach. He nods as he stands, tucking himself back into his pants as he grabs you a rag before quickly returning and crouching next to the bed, gently wiping your stomach clean. He carefully reaches up and lays you back down before dragging the rag between your legs eliciting a groan from you as you wince slightly.

“Sorry, I should have gone a little slower…” He throws the rag down before he starts rummaging through his pile of things. That makes you sit up straight, watching him as he pulls out a small canteen, passing it to you. “Drink mesh’la.”

Your heart flutters.

That’s not good.

“Okay. We need to set some ground rules.” You open the canteen and drink down a few sips of water before clearing your throat, handing it back to him. He closes it as he starts reattaching all of his equipment. Making you a little self conscious about your nudity as you wrap the blanket around yourself.

“Rules?” He pulls his cowl back over his helmet as he stands, walking back over to the bed to sit next to you.

You need to put some distance between the two of you. Or at least as much distance is possible while still allowing him to have his way with you.

“ This. ” You gesture at him. “You, calling me those things. You can’t do that, if this is gonna be a thing you cannot do that.”

“I’m not sure what you mean?” He lets out a small chuckle.

You stand up, clutching the sheet around you before going to the dresser to find new pajamas. Turning back around to point at him once you grabbed something.

“If this is going to be a recurring thing then we need to have rules. Now turn around so I can change.” He scoffs but he turns to face the wall as you drop the sheet, pulling the night gown over your head before going to sit back down next to him.

“So this is going to be a recurring thing?” The way he says it with such mock seduction has you rolling your eyes as you reach over to the nightstand for The Smitten Paladin and a pen.

“Not if you keep acting like that.” You open to the back cover and click the pen. “So I propose we come up with some rules.” He nods slowly.

“Okay… what kind of rules?” He sounds a little skeptical as he watches you scrawl on the page.

No Romance.

“Nothing romantic.” You stab the pen down to put a period at the end of it. “This is purely sex so no lovey-dovey stuff.” You hold your hand up in front of the helmet. Your wedding ring shimmering in the lamp light.

“Like the nicknames?” He asks, visor trained on the ring as you lower your hand back down.

“Like the nicknames. We aren’t romantically involved so I don’t want to hear you calling me things like sarad’ika or mesh’whatever. None of that. I’ll allow it during sex but otherwise don’t bother.”

“You’ll allow it? It seemed to me like you really liked it when I called you those things.” He snakes his arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

You bring the pen down to the page again.

This is Purely Stress Relief.

“Stress relief?” You can practically hear his eyebrows raising.

“Clearly, we’re both a little stressed. You’re busy watching me all day and I’m busy not being sexually satisfied by my husband. Therefore, this little arrangement will provide us both with stress relief. Keep us from being at each other's throats.”

“So what… I’m supposed to just… satisfy your needs every time you get a little cranky?” His hands are taking the book and pen from you now. “You’re making me sound like some kind of prostitute.”

“Do you have a problem with that?” You cock an eyebrow at him and he hesitates.

“No I guess not.” He looks down at the page as he starts writing something, you have to scooch closer to him to see.

the helmet stays on

He turns to look at you almost for approval, watching as you frown slightly.

“What if I close my eyes?” You say hopefully, nudging his shoulder.

“It doesn’t work like that princess.” His raspy chuckle falling from the filter. “If you accidentally opened them I would never be able to forgive myself for taking it off in the first place.”

“Hmm… What if you cover my eyes with something? Or if it’s really dark?” You give him your best pleading eyes in an attempt to sway him and he sighs as he starts writing again.

the helmet might come off at MANDO’S DISCRETION

Good enough.

“Put down no kissing.” You point to the page.

“No kissing?” Maker, you wish he sounded less disappointed.

“No kissing. It’s too intimate.”

“I was inside you.” He tilts the helmet down to glare at you through the steel. You point at the second rule.

“That was for stress relief. No kissing, we aren’t a couple. We’re just…”

Shit what are you? He had said you weren’t friends but also you had been arguing… obviously you weren’t together, you were married. And you weren’t attracted to him like that. He’s an asshole, he just so happens to be really good at sex and always around. A convenience.

“We’re just friends.” He says slowly as if sensing your distress.

“Exactly. Friends with benefits.”

“Okay.” He looks back down as he writes.

no kissing

if you say stop, i stop

He hands you the book back to look it over, you nod, taking the pen from him as well.

“Obviously the same goes for you.” You say, pointing at number six.

“I won’t ever tell you too.”

Your face is getting hot.

“Well if you do I’ll stop.” You have to think for a moment before writing the next rule.

Don’t Finish Inside Me.

“Obviously.” He laughs as he looks from the page up to you.

“Not worth the risk. Especially since this is a casual thing.” You add before writing again.

No Sleeping Over.

You raise your eyebrows at him, waiting for a reaction.

“Are you trying to kick me out?” You can hear his grin.

“No. Just a little warning though that you won’t be spending the night. It probably wouldn’t be a good look if Elaine and Lysa walk in in the morning and you’re lying next to me.”

“Smart.”

“Which leads me to my next point.” You point down to the book with the pen before writing.

Nobody Knows.

“Everything I said is true. If we were to get caught the consequences would be catastrophic.” You change your tone to that of a much more serious one as you tap the page carefully.

“Of course. It’s our little secret.”

“Exactly.” You close the book. “I think that’s everything.” He takes the book back from you and scrawls one last thing.

don’t fall in love with me

You have a hard time holding back a laugh.

“You’re certainly confident in yourself.”

“I’m irresistible, princess. It’s bound to happen eventually.” His grip on your waist tightens.

“Trust me. We don’t have to worry about that.” You roll your eyes.

“I’m just saying it’s a possibility. It could happen, and when it does I’ll have to leave for good.”

“You’re hilarious.”

What does he mean by that? That he’ll have to leave? You want to ask but he’s already speaking again.

“Just friends.” He holds his hand out for a handshake and you grab it, giving him one firm shake.

“Just friends.”

This might actually work. You open the book one last time as the two of you look over the list.

No Romance.

This is Purely Stress Relief.

the helmet stays on

the helmet might come off at MANDO’S DISCRETION

no kissing

if you say stop, i stop

Don’t Finish Inside Me.

No Sleeping Over.

Nobody Knows.

don’t fall in love with me

This is easy, you can do this. You can have your cake and eat it too. You get to stay friends with him, stay married, and have your needs met. It’s the perfect plan.

His fingers are playing with the hem of your nightie.

“So… should I leave now? Or is there anything else you want to do?”

Should he leave? Yes. Do you want him to leave? No. Now that you know what you’ve been missing out on it’s harder than you thought it’d be to not want more. It looks like he’s already starting to get hard again and it makes your mouth water.

“Well, you seem like you’re still a little stressed. And according to the rules I should probably fix that.” You’re playing with the belt that goes across his chest as you say it.

“That is true, we wouldn’t want to break the rules so soon.” His hand starts sliding up your thigh but you gently push it away as you move to kneel in front of the bed between his legs. For once he doesn’t have something snarky to say as the helmet follows you. If you’d known it would be this simple to shut him up you’d have gotten on your knees ages ago. Your fingers play with the zipper of his pants as you rest your elbows on the Beskar covering his thighs. He’s still silent as you smile as innocently as possible.

You want to tease him. Show him that you can be in charge just as much as he can. Also you want to know what he tastes like but that’s besides the point.

“You know tomorrow is the first day of the week. Which means you have to take me somewhere… why don’t you tell me about that?” You run a finger over the straining fabric of his flight suit drawing a small breath from him.

“Etyc girl.” He murmurs as he brushes your hair back a bit, away from your face. You should really start trying to remember everything he says so you can ask him about it later. “I thought I’d let you choose.” He keeps his hand on your face, rubbing circles against your cheek with his thumb.

“Mhmm. What are my options?” You hum softly as you tug ever so gently at his zipper, watching with wide eyes as his cock springs free and slaps against his stomach. It’s even bigger and more intimidating when you’re this close to it. You reach your hand towards it but stop a few inches shy, looking up at him, waiting for him to continue.

“Well… there’s a market in the city, that’s very well known, I thought you might like to shop for yourse-” He sucks in a sharp inhale as you lightly scrape your fingernails across the underside of his shaft, watching intently at how the Beskar tilts upwards slightly. You can’t bite back the smirk on your face as you wrap your fingers around the base of him. Maker your hand doesn’t even fully close around his girth.

“That sounds nice, what’s my other choice?” You don’t stroke him, you just trace a vein with your thumb, that has him leaning back on his elbows as he gasps.

“Maker- there’s a library in the- in the city.” He stutters out as you sit up on your knees so you can let a trail of spit fall onto the weeping head of his cock, watching as it mixes with his pre-cum as you swipe your thumb over his slit, lazily stroking him. You hum again in approval.

“How about we go to the market this week and the library next week? Would that be okay Mando?” He’s managed to prop himself up more as he pants, watching you.

“Sure thing princess.” He mumbles.

Stars he’s a sight. Leaned back like this, breathless. His thighs are tense under your hands as you bring them down slightly before leaning down to place a chaste kiss on the prominent vein on the underside of his length drawing a breathy groan from him.

You’ve barely even started and he’s like this. It’s exhilarating to know you have the same effect on him that he has on you.

“Why don’t you tell me all about the markets while I do this?” You look up at him with big doe eyes, unable to hold back the smug grin.

“You’re an evil woman.” He says under his breath.

“Oh come on, this can’t be any worse than what you did to me.”

“Be careful princess or I’ll bend you over right there on the floor and show you just how bad it can b- fuck…” Halfway through his sentence you started leisurely dragging your tongue up his length, effectively shutting him up. You pull back slightly.

“Tell me about the markets Mando.”

“If you wanna play this game just know I’m gonna repay the favor at some point.” His voice is low and stern, you simply nod, scraping your fingernails delicately up his shaft again.

“I look forward to it. Now start talking or you’re gonna be playing this game by yourself back at your cabin.” You pepper a few kisses at his base as you wait for him to respond.

“Okay sarad’ika… They’re big, they take up nearly three whole streets.” His voice is low and one of his hands is caressing your face again. You take the opportunity to bite the fingertips of his glove so you can tear it off. He chuckles as he tangles his fingers in your hair as you start working your way up, starting at his base with kisses and small licks as you take your time. Hearing his breath quicken. “They um… they’re one of the largest markets in this system, they say you can’t walk the whole thing in a day.”

“What else?” You know he can feel your breath against the head of his cock as you speak because he shivers ever so slightly.

“They have everything you might be l-looking for… most of the stands change at night, we’ll have to go a different day after sunset so you- so you can see it all.” He barely seems to be getting through it all as you finally take him in your mouth, swirling your tongue across his tip. Your jaw is already starting to ache so you start to work your way down, hoping to finish him off relatively quickly. Based on the way his grip tightens in your hair you doubt it will take long. You hollow your cheeks ever so slightly.

Maker the groan he lets out. None of your books could write a groan like that.

You continue to work him into your mouth, gagging quietly every once in a while as you listen to the gasps and moans that slip out of the modulator, after he goes a minute or so without speaking you pull off of him, letting your teeth drag against him briefly. He hisses loudly and his grip in your hair tightens.

“Gedet’ye mesh’la…” His voice is hoarse as he sits up. You tut quietly.

“I don’t know what that means.” You say mockingly as you bring one of your hands up to cup his balls.

“Fuck… don’t chayaikir .” He growls.

“Ask nicely.” You’re practically whispering it against his shaft as you press another kiss against his cock.

“Don’t test me princess.” You can feel the burn against your scalp as he tugs you closer. It doesn’t faze you all that much as you continue staring up into the visor.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who needs to learn manners.” You can practically hear his teeth grinding as you gently squeeze him at the base, just hard enough to make him grunt.

“Fine princess, you win. Please...” It’s barely a whisper but it’s all you wanted to hear so you happily take him back in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down, unable to take him entirely without choking so you use your hand to jerk off the rest of him. It doesn’t take much longer before he’s thrusting his hips up into your mouth. “Right there sarad, fuck, I’m close ad’ika, doing bid pirusti… dirty girl.” After a few minutes of messy thrusts he finishes and you feel the warmth spreading down your throat. You keep sucking, until he pulls you off, a line of drool going from his length to your swollen bottom lip. He’s laying back, chest heaving as you wipe the drool from your chin and swallow anything remaining in your mouth. He tastes like salt, metal, and something sweet you can’t place. You stand up and sit next to him, rubbing soothing patterns against the break in his armor at the side of his abdomen.

“You deserved that.” You mumble with a grin. The helmet turns to face you.

“Remember that you said that next time you’re whining underneath me.” He’s still a bit breathless as he sits up.

“Sure thing.” You beam at him.

It’s quiet, almost peaceful as he zips his pants back up and the two of you just sit with each other. You want to lean your head on his shoulder but you’re pretty sure that would be breaking the rules so you resist.

“You should probably go.” You whisper. You manage to keep your tone neutral.

There’s a beat of silence.

“Okay.” He stands and just like that he’s walking to the door.

“Good night Mando.” You sigh as you turn to say goodbye.

“Dress light tomorrow. It’s gonna be hot out in the city.” His tone is gentle as he opens the door and leaves.

You stand and walk yourself to the closet, collapsing in an exhausted heap onto the blankets.

As you struggle to get comfortable there’s a dull ache in your chest that reminds you of how you felt the first few days on Naboo when you were longing for the company of your family.

You ignore it.

It’s normal for people to miss their friends.

#din djarin smut #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin/reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin #mandalorian smut #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian

150 notes · View notes

animementrash · 5 months

Text

AOT veterans headcanons pt.2

Characters: Miche Zacharias, Nanaba, Moblit Berner

Tags: characters headcanons, some may be ooc?

A/N: Here's the second batch of my headcanons about the AOT vets, if you want to read pt. 1 here it is :) once again, this is how I percieve them. Let me know what you think and thank you for reading! Love ya, bye! <3

Miche Zacharias

Most intense eye contact you will ever see, he’s the kind of person to keep direct eye contact when speaking and his gaze tends to intimidate almost everyone.

Talks with Erwin a lot, they have been friends for a long time and is usually one of the few people who can stand Erwin when he starts rambling about the outside and why is it important to lead humanity towards it.

Speaking of his long-time friendship with Erwin, he is the one who introduced Erwin to cigarettes years ago when they were just simple scouts.

The night before they went to the underground to get Levi, Miche questioned Erwin several times to make sure he was aware of the dangers they would encounter and even tried to persuade him to not go.

Will use almost anything he finds as a toothpick.

Has the most insane work out routine, not even Erwin is able to do it without exhausting himself. Only Levi can keep up with him when training and it’s only because he’s an Ackerman.

Has the highest body count in the scouts. I have no proof but no doubts either.

Another whistler, he’s also known for his constant humming and whistling but you can distinguish him from Erwin by the tunes they make.

Refuses to do paperwork, even if Erwin himself orders him to do some reports he will just say no and change the topic. Erwin no longer tries to make him do it.

When he forced Levi to kneel before Erwin in the underground, he was truly surprised by how much strength he had to use in order to push Levi down, he couldn’t understand how someone so small could be that strong.

Pushes his hair back and ties it in a small ponytail when it gets in the way.

Smirks a lot. Has the sassiest smirk ever.

Loves to trash talk people when drunk, especially those in the military police.

When Erwin and him used to go out he was always ready to be Erwin’s wingman.

Whenever Levi is brewing tea he’s always nearby, he isn’t much of a tea person but the smell is comforting and helps him get rid of any nasty smell that may be lingering in his nose.

Once tried to convince Erwin to keep his beard and moustache just like him but ended up asking him to shave because “not everyone can pull that combo”. Truth is he knew Erwin was hot with facial hair and decided to play safe.

Most of the time he doesn’t understand what Hange tends to ramble about but will listen nonetheless and even throw some questions from time to time.

(This one is so nasty sorry) Has a tendency to spit on the floor anytime he feels like it, Levi punches him whenever he sees him do it.

Snores a lot when sleeping. Like, a lot.

Loves to eat bread and will always try to get an extra piece when having dinner.

Nanaba

Loves to read romance novels. Used to believe she was a princess when she was a little girl.

Deals with imposter syndrome and used to doubt herself a lot before Miche gave her a reality check and told her that if she wanted to keep doubting herself then she could do it in another team, this helped her to stop being so self-conscious and focus on her strengths.

Loves flowers and will try to gather some when they’re outside the walls during expeditions.

Never knew how to socialize or make friends so when Miche requested her to be on his team she felt very happy to know someone acknowledged her even when she wasn’t too vocal.

Has beautiful hands, her nails are always neat and polished.

One-time Hange joked about her being the female version of Levi because their hairstyle is similar and she felt really awkward, Miche then said the hairstyle suited her better and she thanked him once more for always having her back.

Her love language is acts of service.

Really likes to spend time with Moblit or Levi, mostly because both are as quiet and reserved as her but also because the three shared the common factor of having a noisier counterpart who exhausted their social battery and knew what it was to need some quiet time.

Used to sleep in as much as she could when she had the chance, if it was a rest day for the scouts she was never seen up until midday.

Knows how to make flower crowns and will make them whenever she has the chance.

Has the sweetest and most adorable laugh ever.

Her nervous stims are shaking her legs when sitting or tapping her fingers rhythmically on whatever surface is nearby.

Owns a pretty decent number of dresses and jewelry, she also owns a single perfume she cherishes a lot because it was brought all the way from Mitras.

Has a sweet tooth, loves candied apples and apple pies.

Moblit Berner

Has the neatest, prettiest handwriting among all the scouts.

Has photographic memory, this is why he’s very good at drawing and at tracking down all the stuff Hange misplaces throughout the day.

The attention to detail he has is incredible, he’s able to catch up with things faster than anyone thanks to this.

Doesn’t know when or how he ended up being Hange’s nanny, but doesn’t mind it because he finds Hange’s mind very fascinating.

Rolls his eyes a lot, he can’t control his facial expressions no matter how much he tries either.

Before Hange even tries to show Erwin a plan, it has to be pre approved by Moblit, 8 out of 10 plans never make it outside their office.

Makes the most hurtful and snarky remarks when mad and makes it seem as if it was just a comment so you can’t complain about his attitude.

Gifted Nanaba a book about floriography and helps her collect flowers when outside the walls, he also likes to draw them before they wilt so she can add them to her collection.

Isn’t too fond of gossip but knows everyone’s secrets because people tend to vent with him because he is so serious and calm.

Admires Erwin a lot and is sometimes intimidated by him.

Loves to hang out with Miche and Erwin, and it’s only after a couple drinks when he can start being chatty with Erwin.

Is the only person who has seen Hange crying more than once.

One time he came across Levi at the kitchen when he was making some tea and to make things less awkward asked him for a cup, now he has to pretend he also likes that bitter tea because whenever Levi makes tea, he makes sure to bring him a cup as well.

Was once asked by Erwin if he could draw someone just by hearing their description, they then worked for weeks to make a drawing of who turned out to be Erwin’s dad.

Cares so much about Hange, not only as his superior but also as his friend, he believes there is no one who could be as brilliant and smart as them.

Levi once asked him to draw a dog and he couldn’t understand why, it wasn’t until Levi named the dog “Sniffer” and placed the drawing on Miche’s office door that he understood what it was for.

#aot headcanons #aot vets #miche aot #miche zacharias #nanaba #nanaba aot #moblit berner #aot moblit

53 notes · View notes

ithinkabouttzu · 3 months

Note

Hello! I love your writing and was wondering if you could do TP reunion headcanons? Like how they would be once you reunite after the war?

Have a nice day :)

The Pacific reunion with you after the war!

genre: Romance; fluff

warnings: Crying, sad themes, reader is called beautiful, but reader is gn!

description: The pacific boys’ meeting with you (their s/o) for the first time after the war

a/n: Thank you for this request! I hope I got it right!! Enjoy my beloved!! 💗💗

Eugene Sledge

• for him it’s a whole bunch of emotions when he sees you waiting for him at the train station

• he wants to cry, but also kinda just wants to laugh because of how happy he is to see you

•Looking at you out of the window, you look so beautiful. His chest pounds thinking at how lonely it must of been for you while he was gone

• When he finally gets off the train and makes his way to you, It’s like meeting you for the first time all over again.

• He’s nervous, because it’s been so long since he’s actually seen you, What if you don’t like him anymore? what if something happened while he was gone and you don’t see a future with him?

• All of those worries in his head immediately vanish when he succumbs to your warm embrace, it’s like time had never really passed at all.

• “I missed you, don’t ever want to leave you like that again”

Sidney Phillips:

• Wow, he can’t wait to kiss those soft lips of yours. When he sees you he’s ready to jump off the train while it’s still going because he just can’t wait any longer

• When he does get off, he’s running towards you, dropping all of his luggage as soon as he gets to you, and picking you and swinging you around with joy

• He causes quite a scene but it makes you overjoyed to know he missed you just as much. Seeing that bright smile on his face makes you almost forget how long you guys were apart.

• He’s honestly just so happy, you’re his home, someone he feels safe with, someone that’s always there for him when he needs you, he’s finally back with his person after so long

• He has so much to ask you once he’s set you down, some stuff that he couldn’t fit into letters, all he wants to do is get home and talk to you about everything and catch up fully.

• Oh, and except a million kisses from there and on the way home too

• “Oh honey, I missed you like crazy”

Robert Leckie

• Once he’s made his way home, said hello to his parents and put his luggage down, he’s immediately on his way to your place.

• He can’t wait to see you any longer, he’s not even sure what he’s gonna do when he sees you, all he can feel is excitement bubbling in his stomach

• When gets there, he stops, scared to knock, he’s nervous to see you in so long, before the door swings opens and it’s you who’s on the other side.

• Wow, you look amazing, that sweet smile on your face is everything to him, he suddenly feels self conscious under your gaze, his appearance changed with time.

• It’s silent, both of you are admiring one another like a breakable antique, afraid to touch but still in awe of each other. He can’t wait to say anything anymore, “You’re still as beautiful as before” He smiles at you, waiting for a reply.

• “You haven’t changed at bit either, i’ve missed you” You reply back, following it with a big hug, wrapping him up in your arms.

• “I almost forgot how amazing your hugs were”

Lew ‘Chuckler’ Juergens:

• He’s ecstatic to see you, a big smile is on his face and he couldn’t hide his excitement even if he wanted to.

• Similar to Sidney, he’s picking you up off the ground and spinning you around, but he’s also planting bunches of small kisses all over your face in joy. He knows exactly how to make you feel like the only person in the room.

• He doesn’t even know what to say, or what to think, other then an overwhelming amount of happiness inside of him, he’s just so happy to be with you, he feels complete again.

• When he sets you down he just looks at you in shock, you’re actually here with him, he never thought the day would come when he would get to hold you in his arms again

• “God, i’ve missed you, more than you’ll ever know”

• He’ll probably continue to kiss and hug on you for the rest of the week, not letting you out for his sight at all, with continuous confessions of his love for you.

• “I’ll spend my whole life loving you doll, I mean that.”

Merriell ‘Snafu’ Shelton:

• When gets off the train, he immediately makes his way to your home, he can’t wait any longer to see you, even if it’s later in the night.

• When he gets there and sees you he’s in shock, all he can you is hug you at the moment.

• He feels so many emotions at once, he’s lost so many people to the war, and you’re the first bit of warmth he’s felt in years, he doesn’t want to lose you, he can’t lose you.

• As he’s hugging you he snugs his face into your hair, breathing you in, he’s close to letting his tears fall but he holds them, he’s missed you so much.

• “You been gettin’ along alright without me?” He asks you, raising up from the kiss. You can tell he’s still a little nervous.

• “Barely” You whisper back softly, you can’t say anything more because his lips are connected to yours almost immediately.

• “Let me make up the lost time, dolly. Let me make it up to you. ”

John Basilone:

• Boy is he happy to see you, you’re still fine as ever to him, so good-looking it almost takes his breath away.

• He picks you up and kisses you passionately before you can even say welcome home.

• He’s just glad he’s back to you in one piece, he loves you so much and is so ready to enjoy some alone time with you. All he can do is kiss you over and over again

• “How are you, honey?” Is the first thing he says to you. His voice as smooth and deep as rich chocolate.

• “Good, and you?” “Better now that i’m here with you” He replies back with that familiar smirk on his face

• He can’t feel much more love then what he feels right now, he’s so excited and happy to be with you again, after so long he can finally say everything is back to normal.

• “I love you honey, I hope you always know that”

R.V. Burgin

• Just imagine the smile on the sweet boy’s face when he sees you for the first time in years, he’s so happy and joyous to be around you.

• He feels shy but also not really? It’s just because he hasn’t seen you since forever so it’s kinda all knew to him again, but he doesn’t make it awkward at all, he just reminds you how much he missed you.

• “You know, when it was rough at night out there, I thought of you and then I could finally get some sleep” He immediately starts telling you stories and more about the people he met

• But still he asks you how you are and if anything had changed while he was gone, “I’m glad you didn’t run off with some rich guy while I was gone” 😭

• He probably carries you bridal style in to your guys’ home together and if you guys weren’t already married then he would probably propose soon.

• In general he’s just so enlightened to see you, it just takes so much stress off of his chest.

• “I love you darling, forever and ever”

Wilbur ‘Runner’ Conley

• When he sees you waiting for him at the train stop his heart picks up so much speed and he feels like he could vomit.

• The waiting almost became unbearable for him, he’d have his luggage ready to set out to you

• When he does get to you he can’t hold back his emotions, he’s so happy all he can do it take you into a big bear hug and laugh

• “Long time no see, right, stranger?” He just looks at you with so much love in his eyes, he’s never felt better then when he’s with you

• He’s just ready for a future with you now, ready to take the next step with you and make you his partner forever

• “I missed you too much, I love you sweetheart.”

Bill ‘Hoosier’ Smith

• It’s like he falls in love with you all over again when he sees you waiting up for him.

• He turns so soft when he feels you in his arms, all he can do is hold you tightly in hopes that you won’t let go

• “I missed you a lot, I don’t ever want to feel that way again”

• He saves the tears for later when you guys are alone, but for now all he can do is kiss you over and over again.

• He’ll probably save a little gift for you to and give it to you then, like I said he really missed you.

• He’ll probably be super close to you for the rest of the day, trying to catch up and see how different it’s changed back home.

• “I love you so much, I promise i’ll never leave again”

I loved this request!! If you enjoyed, make sure to like or reblog! <333

#eugene sledge #sidney phillips #robert leckie #chuckler juergens #snafu shelton #john basilone #runner conley #rv burgin #bill hoosier smith #the pacific reacts #the pacific ships #the pacific headcannons #the pacific #the pacific reactions #ithinkabouttzu

39 notes · View notes

spicyclover · 1 year

Text

Cutting through my broken heart

Summary: You and Pierre are living together after his apartment got flooded. He thought he knew you very much until he discovered something horrible.

Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section! And to support me by tipping me!

Little information, I will, for now, only post on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

Thank you, and Enjoy! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

WARNING: mention of suicide, mention cuts, blood and blades. Dramatic backstory.

If you need help, please go TALK to someone, anyone! It’s the first step to getting better, I promised you. I send unconditional LOVE and POSITIVE thoughts to everyone struggling with difficult times. You are NOT alone!

Pierre’s apartment seeped with water, which caused a lot of damage to the ceilings, the ground and the structure of the building. As a result, he was forced to evacuate his home and seek refuge while renovations were being carried out.

Fortunately, his childhood best friend lives only a few steps away from his home, and he was able to move in with her without a problem. Her apartment is much smaller than his, but he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t want to go to a hotel anyway.

The weeks of cohabitation went relatively well. He follows her off-season training, and she continues her art study classes.

Pierre always found her super exciting and passionate. As soon as she talks about art, she gets lost in her universe, which drives him crazy. To see her eyes light up when she speaks of Monet, Salvador's Dalí, Van Gogh or Rembrandt.

Or when she forces him to come with him to exhibitions. He loves museums but to the point of spending all his Sunday afternoons doing that... Yet, for her, he does.

It’s crazy that when he thinks about it. He never notices her distress.

He never noticed that she never wore a short-sleeved shirt, always long sleeves. He never noticed how little her appetite was. He never saw the nasty look of her classmates whenever he came to pick her up.

The handkerchiefs of blood are in the bathroom bin. The razor blade was placed prominently in the pharmacy box, the many stained sweaters. Tears and especially suffering in her eyes.

She can’t remember when she started... it was in the early years of college. The long hours of work, the hatred of her comrades, and the quarrel with her parents, she no longer what triggered this vicious circle.

If found her one day, barely alive, on the bathroom floor. The blood flowed from her handles in abundance, and, as always, she waited for the pain to pass. Only that day, the pain was too present and painful to replace.

He called her name, but she was barely conscious. He took her in his arms, screaming for help. It was the next-door neighbour who called the fire department after she stormed into the bathroom. Peter’s cheeks were filled with tears, and he could not do anything else.

“Why, Stella, why?” He whispers in her ear, kissing her temple.

“It’s... it’s... it’s okay,” she responds, barely aware.

“Don’t leave me...” Those were the last word she heard from him before being taken by the ambulance.

Several months passed, and Stella always refused Pierre to come and visit her and she did not want to see his gaze lost in misunderstanding and love. Despite all her love for him, Pierre has never been a consistent person in her life. Always part of the four corners of the world, he doesn’t have time to constantly check-in.

During the long months of her convalescence, she spent them with her parents in the south of France. Far from Milan, far from her comrades and especially far from him. She will never confess to him, but that evening, she was in this state partly because of him. An umpteenth rumour and an umpteenth photo of Pierre in the arms of a pretty girl were overcome by her fragile mental health.

“Falling for him wasn’t falling at all. It was walking into a house and suddenly knowing you’re home.” She adds to her speech.

The psychologist nods his head, writing carefully in his notebook.

This is undoubtedly the eleventh session they spend on Pierre, and this is the first time she allows herself to speak of him as someone she loves. A true love.

“Could you think of seeing him again?” Ask the doctor carefully.

“I wish I could explain to him how he makes me feel, and I guess the closest I can get to it would be to say that; he makes me feel good while, at the same time, breaking my heart.”

After that session, she thought long and hard about picking up her phone and dialling his number, but she felt like she was taking several steps back if she made that decision. So she didn’t. She never called him or answered the thousands of messages he left her.

Pierre spent the last few months trying to find out where Stella was, but no one in her family answered him, leaving him in a cloud of gray. He returned several to the apartment, hoping to see her sitting in front of her painting. Yet every time he walked through that door. It was the cold and the silence that they welcomed him as an old friend.

He finally tidied up his things and went back to pursue his dream, bringing with him a little piece of her. An old sweater, too oversized, from Milan college that still smells like her. She wore it all the time when they were living together, and it was her favourite.

He once asks her about it, and she only responds, “Every time I wear it, I think of you. For me, Pierre, you are Milan.”

He didn’t respond anything, just looked at her watching some fireworks. That’s when he knew he loved her.

It’s a May afternoon, and she decided to take a few days off from the family home to watch the boats on the port of Monaco. Hundreds of Yachts turn between them and around the dock while waiting to return, a truly magnificent spectacle. The city is preparing to receive the Grand Prix next week, so hundreds of people are already present. She didn’t think about this event coming here, which made her sad.

Thought of the Grand Prize comes to the thought of Pierre, yet no negative thought tarnishes her day. It was only when walking back to the car that her heart stopped.

There he is, a few meters from her, next to his car, talking with his friends.

Her heart stops, and her head goes crazy. Unable to move, it is only when Pierre looks at her that she finds the use of her legs. She flees through the harbour to find a place to hide forever.

Pierre’s heart is racing, and he does not hesitate a single blow before running after her. She is there in the flesh. Skin more radiant than ever, hair more voluminous than ever, and especially a beautiful strapless dress.

They run around, passing tourists and locals, him shouting her name.

He eventually caught her at the end of a pontoon. Unable to escape further, she was trapped.

“You’re not gonna jump, are you?” He asks in a humorous tone before he safely advances to her.

“Am thinking about it.”

“I’ve missed you.”

“No...”

“Yes, every day since that day, I think of you. I dream of you.”

“Stop...”

“Je t’aime, Stella.” He says while stroking her cheeks. “Every day... I’ve tried so hard to come to see you, but they never let me in.”

“I know... I ask them to.”

“What? Why?” He asks, confused.

“Meeting you, Pierre, was like listening to a song for the first time and knowing it would be my favourite.” Says Stella taking a deep breath. “Since the day we met at this primary school, I loved you. You are my first love, Pierre. And I can’t bear that I’ll never be the one for you. You have so many pretty girls around you every time, and I’ll never be like them. I’ll never be popular. I’ll never be prettier or funnier than hers. And I can’t go back to where I was. I need to move on, Pierre. I need to...”

“Stella! Stella! Stella,” he shouts, taking her chin up.

“What?”

“You have a place in my heart no one else ever could have, but we can be together until you are better. You need to be strong and brave. I can’t be the one helping you ‘cause I'll lose the sense of everything. You are my sun, my moon, and all of my stars, Stella.” Tears in his eyes while looking at her tears.

“No, we can’t be together. No now. No, never.”

“I...”

“Je t’aime Pierre, mais j’ai trop travaillé pour que tu me brises le coeur une nouvelle fois. Je ne peux pas le prendre. J’ai besoin de quelqu’un de présent et d’attentif, de patient et de fidèle...” She adds taking his hands off. “We are endgame. Goodbye Pierre, maybe in another life.”

“Stell...”

This time he didn’t go after her. He watched her walk away. Tears always run down her cheeks, but he knows he can’t do that to her, not after what she’s been through. He has to let her go even if his heart is broken, even if she took a piece of his heart with him.

‘Only knew he loved her when he let her go.

And he let her go.’ Let her go, Passenger.

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly sad #pierre gasly fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1

207 notes · View notes