#And am not looking forward to 4-5 hours of being outside in pain
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destiel!steddie pt. 5!!
Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 4 | AO3: you can hear the call (when trouble's on the way)
‘We really shouldn’t be spying on him like this, you know that that’s not normal human behavior, right?’
“I am aware. I am merely making sure he’s safe.”
‘He’s in his bed, fast asleep. If anything, you should be standing guard outside. Standing over him like this is totally not creepy at all.’
The angel can hear the weird tone shift in Steve’s words, even when coming from inside his own being, but can’t quite remember what about the tone is supposed to indica–
‘It’s sarcasm, man, we’ve gone over this.’
Ah, that is what it was. “I will learn eventually.”
The human soul within him is silent for a bit longer, could’ve been hours, could’ve been just moments, but eventually speaks up again.
‘I gotta ask, is your obsession with him actually yours, or is me having the hots for him influencing things?’
He thinks on that for a while. He had been the first to jump at the chance to see Earth like his brother once did, wanting to know what it was about humans that had caused Castiel to forsake his kin.
It’s not hard to admit that what he had seen of Eddie before and after being pulled from hell was…significant. He was a beautiful soul. One that’d shone near blinding as he’d worked to piece him back together.
Eddie’s concern for others, his overwhelming love for his uncle and late mother, the scars of hurt the angel had found patched over already (though hastily, and with not as good of a seal that may have come from real healing, but something to be admired nonetheless)...
“It is not just you.”
‘...I can tell.’ Steve sounded breathless at the memories.
“He is a beautiful soul, and an admirable human.”
Another stretch of silence waned with another question from the soul within him. ‘Do you know why he’d gone to hell in the first place?’ Steve asked quietly, like he was afraid of the answer.
“He was there as a result of a deal with a crossroads demon.”
‘What’d he make a deal for?’
“He happened to find some of his Uncle’s medical paperwork. Made the deal not a day later.” He pauses. “His uncle didn’t find out about the deal until after Eddie’s year had expired, when he came home to find his nephew’s body, shredded by hellhounds.”
Steve’s heartbreak for the older Munson washed over the angel like a cold wave.
“They are alright, though I don’t think Wayne has fully forgiven his nephew.”
The two beings fall silent once again, staying invisible to anyone on the physical plane. It had admittedly been a bit of an adjustment to accommodate keeping Steve with him after visiting Hawkins, but the angel found he quite liked the human soul’s company.
Since leaving Hawkins, watching over the Munsons like this over the last month and a half or so and helping Eddie on some cases too (the tulpa in North Carolina was definitely more of a pain than he would’ve liked), Steve has made understanding human idiosyncrasies much easier.
“I think you are right, Stephen, Eddie will be fine. We sho—” he’s cut off by a snuffling sound from Eddie, who rolls from where he’d been laying on his left side, to his stomach. His right arm comes up under his head and pillow, while his left is held loosely off to his side.
His face is turned to the left as well, and where they would have a clear view of his face, they only see Eddie’s wild head of hair.
Without thinking about it, the angel steps forward and gently pushes the hair away from the human’s face.
‘He’s so pretty.’ Steve sighs from within.
“He looks…ethereal.”
Steve’s bubbling laugh tickles up the back of their head and they step back again from Eddie’s bedside. ‘Says the angel.’
They both admire the man for a moment longer before the angel steps back to take flight.
His wings are spread when they’re interrupted once again.
“Mmhmm…Steve..”
They both hold their breath.
‘Did he..?’
“Stevie..a–ah..”
Eddie is calling out for him; he needs them.
‘NO! Nopenopenope, time to leave!’ the human shoves at him internally.
“What do you mean? He is calling for us. I told him we would be there if he ever called.” He moves to step forward back to Eddie, but is surprised that he’s wholly unable to. “How are you–nevermind, let us go! He’s convulsing!”
Eddie continued gasping and writhing, though his movements seemed to be more rhythmic than anythin–
Suddenly, they are standing outside in the middle of the Munson’s junkyard.
“How–? Steve? How did you do that?”
‘Sorry, sorry, I had to get us out of there. That was definitely not something we should’ve seen.’
“I do not understand.”
Steve sighs internally. ‘I just know these things, okay? It’d be very embarrassing for him if he’d known we were there. Trust me.’
The angel’s thoughts reeled. “But he called for us.”
This time, Steve’s frustration with him came out as a loud groan, ‘He was dreaming of us. Probably an embarrassing sort of dream. One that should NOT be mentioned to him in person.’
“I do not know quite what you mean but–”
His mind was instantly inundated with images of He and Eddie in very compromising positions.
The angel felt hot all over. Strange, the weather hadn’t changed.
Steve chuckled at him, ‘It’s not the weather, it’s me–well, my body. You are reacting to what I showed you.’
“Oh.” It wasn’t a bad heat, though he did feel an added tightness along with the heat a bit lower down on his borrowed body.
Steve laughed again, ‘Yeah, “Oh.”. C’mon, let’s get out of here before you embarrass us or Eddie…go check in on Dustin or something.’
He still didn’t quite understand how having a dream like that may make one feel embarrassed, the act within Steve’s fabricated scenes seemed quite lovely, but He didn’t want to upset Eddie.
‘You’re something else, dude.’ Steve chuckles again at His thoughts as they fly back to Hawkins once again.
—--
From the moment Dustin wakes up, he can tell there’s something off. In a good way, though.
For one, he slept a lot better than he had in a while and two, his covers were actually still on him. Usually the nightmares of falling down cold elevator shafts and running through drafty underground tunnels cause him to throw them off the bed sometime in the middle of the night.
It really gave him a little extra oomph, which was good; his mom is going to drop him off at Will’s after running a couple errands and he had been doing his best not to be as much of a Debbie Downer around the other party members.
So he gets up, makes his bed for once, brushes his teeth, and heads downstairs.
They’re done with their errands much quicker than he thought, and in no time at all he’s knocking on the Byers-Hopper clan’s front door.
“Hello Dustin.” El greets him, opening the door much wider than it needed to be.
“Hey Ellie, Will in his room?” He asks as he steps in.
“Yes!”
“Cool, cool, hey Ms. Byers!” he calls in greeting as he jogs through the kitchen and down the hall.
–
Dustin had gotten lost in writing up a backstory for his new character (a dwarf fighter this time, thought it’d be cool to run something out of his norm, okay?), when he looks up and sees Will adding some detail to a page in his sketchbook.
“Oh cool dude, you’re drawing again?”
“Yeah! I’ve got this new character I’ve been thinking about a lot lately.”
“That’s cool man, I’m glad you’re getting inspired again after everything.” He lets that sit for a bit before asking, “Can I see what you’re working on now?”
Will flushes. “I um….”
“No worries if you don’t want to show me, man, I’m cool.” Dustin holds up his hands in mock surrender.
“No, I…I want to show you, I’m pretty proud of this one, but it’s...just kind of embarrassing.”
“Ohohoho! Is it about your super ”not actually a crush” on a certain dark-haired friend of ours whose name rhymes with Bike Mealer?” Dustin grins widely, teasing his friend.
Surprisingly, some of the flush falls away from Will’s face as he laughs, “No, no, he’s not in this…yet.” Will smirks. “Also, how can that be the embarrassing part if you already know about it?”
Dustin just shrugs, “I dunno, man, that was just the first thing I thought of. Now lemme see!!” He makes to grab the sketchbook from Will, who holds it out of his reach easily with one long arm.
Damn his growth spurt.
“Okay, okay, hold your horses!” Dustin sits back against the side of the bed. “Fine, you can read it. IF!” Will moves to hand it over, but pulls it away at the last second. “You promise not to make a big deal out of it, okay?”
Dustin nods enthusiastically, taking the offered sketchbook from his friend, though his face starts to fall as he takes in the pages in front of him.
“I didn’t really want anyone to know, but it’s been…healing? I guess? Making up stories for all of us after everything happened. Like, obviously it’s all completely unrelated to everything that’s happened, and it’s really dumb to pretend like Steve’s an angel now,”
Will glances up at Dustin briefly at the mention of Steve. ‘Shit, steer clear of that, c’mon keep rambling about something that’s not Steve!’ He yells at himself internally.
“B–but the real premise is based off these old books called Supernatural by Carver Edlund and I thought it’d be fun if we met a hunter too, like Sam and Dean in his books. As if that was the reason for the suicides at the high school, a-and Nancy is a badass so I’m thinking she ends up joining Eddie on some more hunts later, and…” Will stops as he registers the look on Dustin’s face.
Panicking, he tries to grab it away from his friend. “Okay, that’s enough,” but Dustin keeps it out of reach. “Dude, seriously, give it back, this is what I was worried about..” he makes another grab for it.
Dustin keeps it from him once again, but what he says next makes him freeze. “How the hell do you know Eddie?”
Will blinks at him owlishly. “What do you mean, ‘how do I know Eddie?’. He’s my character! I made him up!”
Dustin tears his eyes away from the page, meeting Will’s gaze. He looks like he’s about to pass out.
“Wait, how do you know about Eddie… Did you go through my shit??” Will manages to snatch the book back, though it’s most likely due to whatever state Dustin’s got himself in.
“...No.. No, I–” Dustin’s gaze is a thousand miles away. “I need to call Nancy.” He scrabbles up the bed and launches himself over Will and out the bedroom door.
It takes Will a couple thumps of Dustin’s feet in the hallway for him to also spring up and follow his friend to the kitchen.
Dustin’s already dialing on the old home phone when he gets there. “Why do you need to call Nancy?” Dustin just waves off his question.
“Dust, seriously, you better not tell her about–” he’s cut off when Nancy evidently answers.
“Nancy! Nancy, it’s Dustin. Yeah, I’m fine; listen, I’m at Will’s and he just…I saw…” Dustin looks over and down at the sketchbook in Will’s hand. “No! No, he’s okay, you just…OK, you’re not gonna believe this, but he knows about Eddie! Yeah! And his uncle too.”
“Wha–how’d you know that was his uncl–”
“Yes, I’m sure, he freaked out when I asked him how he knew Eddie. No, that’s the thing, Will says that Eddie is a character he Made. Up.” Dustin emphasizes the last two words.
Until now, Will could faintly hear the elder Wheeler’s voice responding through the receiver, but at that. She was silent.
“Nance?”
Her voice came through once again, before Dustin was saying his goodbyes. “Okay, yep. Yep. Should I tell him?” Dustin looks at Will again. “Yeah, I’m going to. Okay. Call me as soon as you hear back. Ok, bye.”
Dustin turns back to will as soon as he hangs up. "Dude, you are not gonna believe this."
—--
Eddie wakes already mourning the loss of his dream from the night before.
It must be late morning by how bright it is in his room, but he really couldn’t care less. He’s too busy replaying the last bits of it he can still remember.
The feeling of Steve’s breath on the shell of his ear, the soft grunts that accompany each one, the sting from where Steve’s hand gripped into the hair at the back of his skull, in the feathers at the base of his wings (Wings! Again!), how entirely full he’d felt with Steve fully inside h–
He’s interrupted from his thoughts when he hears the landline ring downstairs.
“Damn, it’s only 11, let a man sleep in, huh?” Eddie grumbles as he throws off his comforter and stands, adjusting himself through his boxers.
He makes it downstairs, his dreams fully falling out between the slats of his brain like sand, finally answering the line on its second go around. “Munson residence.”
“Finally you answer, you need to get to Hawkins”
Eddie’s immediately 100% more awake and 110% less hard. “Nancy? Is everyone alright?”
“Yes, everyone’s fine, it will just be easier to explain if you’re here.”
“Okay, okay, I will head out now, let me pack and leave a note for Wayne.” he says, though he’s already grabbing up some laundry from the dryer, the phone’s cable stretched nearly as far as it would go.
“How long until you’re here?”
“It’d normally be, what, 14 hours? But I drive fast.” he shifts his hold on the phone so it’s shoved between his ear and shoulder as he attempts to dress himself and stuff clothes into his duffel at the same time.
There’s silence on the other end.
“Nancy? What is it?”
“Are you able to call Steve? He’ll probably want to know too.”
Eddie pauses, grabbing the phone again from his shoulder. “The angel or the man?”
“...Yes?”
He chuckles at that, “Yeah sure, I’ll ask Steve if Stevie wants to come along.”
“Come along where, Eddie?”
“FUCK–” Eddie jumps at the angel’s arrival “Damn it, I keep forgetting about that..”
“Eddie? Everything alright?”
“Yeah, yeah Nance, I’m fine. Steve’s here, so I will pack him up into the car too and we’ll be on our way.”
“See you tomorrow then? 8?”
“Sure, I’ll meet you at the diner, bye Nance.”
“Bye Ed.”
He hangs the receiver back on its cradle and drops his bag on the kitchen table, heading to the fridge and buttoning his pants up the rest of the way.
“Well, Steve? You up for a road trip?”
“Where are you going, Eddie?”
Eddie pulls the fridge door open and grabs up everything he’d need to make some sandwiches for the road. “That was Nancy, something is happening back in Hawkins. Wanna come?”
He whips up a couple bologna and mustard, and a couple good ol’ fashioned PB&J while the angel thinks it over.
“Very well Eddie, I will come with you. You are leaving now?”
“Yep! Well, as soon as I pack up some more road snacks. Those are very important.” He wraps the sandwiches in paper towels and throws them in a nearby cooler tote. “Grab some pop outta there, will ‘ya?” He gestures toward the fridge with his chin and grabs a couple more snacks. A bag of popcorn here, some leftover halloween candy there…is that expired?
“Steve said this is what you meant by ‘pop’.”
Eddie looks over to the angel who is holding a single can of Pepsi and chuckles.
“Yeah, that’s pop, bud. Can you grab like one or..12 more of those? Thanks.”
He goes back to what he was doing but something clicks.
“Wait, did you say ‘Steve said…’?”
The angel turns back to him, one arm miraculously full of 12 loose cans of cola. “Yes.”
“Steve. As in our Steve? He’s still in there with you?” He holds out the cooler for the cans which go in haphazardly at best. Damn now his sandwiches will be flat.
“Yes, your Steve. He..decided to stay with me here in his body.”
Eddie blinks once. Twice. “That’s such a paladin move.” he shakes his head and zips up the cooler. “Ya hear that Stevie? You don’t need to protect everyone all the time, doofus!”
The angel is silent, but tilts his head. “Steve says ‘That’s Dingus to you.’. Does that mean something?”
“Nah, that’s nothing to worry about.” he chuckles. “You ready to go, angel?”
“I am ready…human.”
Eddie’s brows shoot up into his hairline. “Did you just make a joke?”
“I did, yes.” The angel’s hand comes up to touch Eddie’s forehead with his first two fingers but he waves him off.
“Nuh uh, Big Boy, last time you zapped me somewhere I didn't poop for a week.” Ugh the dreaded week post Carolina tulpa hunt. Eddie shudders at the thought. “Nope. Never again. We’re drivin’.”
Eddie nudges at the angel to head out the door, hitting the lights and locking the door behind him as he goes. He turns around to find Steve still standing on the porch.
“Let’s go! Let’s go!” He shoos him toward the passenger side. “Get your fine, feathery ass in the car, Steve.”
“What is my rear fine for?” Steve asks him over the roof of the Impala, head tilted as usual.
Whoops. “Hopefully it’s fine for sitting. Now hurry up and use it to sit upon thine seat so we can go!” Nailed it.
—
They settle into the drive, Eddie immediately starting in on the ‘road snacks’ he’d packed at the house. They’re listening to Dean’s old cassette tapes, and the angel finds he quite likes the metal and hard rock, much to Steve’s dismay.
He’d been focusing on bobbing his head along to the sounds like Eddie had been when the other man turns down the stereo’s volume.
“So, you’ve got Stevie in there with you, huh?”
“Yes. He has been helping me understand human actions and emotions better. It makes it easier having him within my own head to…translate, I suppose would be the best way to put it.”
“Oh yeah? What is your favorite humanism so far?”
The angel thinks on that for a moment. “I would like to say it is your sarcasm. How you are able to communicate the complete opposite of what you are actually saying just by the tone of your voice, and that most everyone understands the same tone; but it, in of itself, is hard for me to catch onto so it is hard to say that it is my favorite.”
Eddie nods along to that. “Makes sense.”
“I think my favorite thing is when humans make up words on the spot for particularly difficult things to describe.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
“Well, you did just ask me what my favorite ‘humanism’ is, and I don’t believe that is a real word; though I did understand what you were trying to ask.” Steve acquiesces with a small smile in return.
“That’s a good answer, angel.” Eddie turns his head from the road momentarily to smile at him and the borrowed heart in his chest squeezes at the sight.
“So you said you have many siblings, are you close to any of them?”
“Only to Levanael, she is…to humans, she’d be my twin.”
“Steve has one of those!”
“Steve does not have siblings.”
Eddie scoffs, “Try telling that to him and Robin.”
‘Don’t actually try, I know she isn’t actually my twin.’ Steve says from within, in a tone that betrays the smile he’d wear if he had one. ‘He is only trying to relate the similarities between us.’
They talk on and off for the next several hours, and though he already knows everything there is to know about Theodore Munson, the angel listens intently for Steve. For him to learn more about the hunter.
It’s nearing 6pm when Eddie starts taking wide cracking yawns.
‘He’s barely been singing along through the last tape.’
“Are you alright, Eddie?”
“Hm? Oh, yeah, just didn’t sleep too well last night. I’ll be fine. Only about five or six more hours to go.”
“You were sleeping just fine when--”
‘Shhhhh! Shush!!’
Eddie’s eyes open noticeably wider, though still locked in the road in front of him. “When?”
“When I checked in on you last night.”
‘Damn it, shut up!’
“You called for me in the middle of the night, so I came to check on you. Steve said you must’ve just been sleep-talking so I left.”
Eddie relaxes minutely hearing that.
‘Nice save. Now ask him if he wants me to drive so he can sleep.’
“Would you like Steve to drive?”
“No, no I’m still good. Promise.”
‘Liar.’
“Eddie, you are swerving off the road. Please allow Steve to take over.”
Eddie yawns another huge yawn. “Fine, fine, you win. Don’t crash her.”
“Who is ‘her’?”
“Nevermind, angel.” Eddie shakes his head with a short laugh, pulling off to the side of the road and parking the car.
The angel closes his eyes and retreats, allowing Steve to take back over his body.
Shrugging back into control, Steve gets out, leaving the passenger door open for Eddie.
Passing the other man around the hood, Eddie says, “Hey, Stevie, missed you.” before he devolves into another long yawn.
Steve chuckles, “I missed you too, Eddie.”
He climbs into the driver’s side and closes the door, a comment about the hilariously butt-shaped indent on this side of the wide bench seat on the tip of his tongue, only to look over and find the other man already snoring softly where he’s leant up against the passenger door.
“Sleep well, Eds.” is what he says instead, pulling back out onto the highway.
—-
Eddie dreams of arms around him, carrying him.
He’s also in pain, surely in the dream only, but it’s agonizing nonetheless.
He manages to open his eyes, to find Steve above him. Hurt and worry really don’t suit his features. A face like that only ever deserves to have calm and happy emotions painted across it.
Eddie hurts, he feels heavy with the pain in his sides, his chest, his face, but he needs to help Steve. Take away his worry.
He moves his arm so he can cup Steve’s face but It’s slow going, as if he’s fighting through molasses.
He finally manages it though, and Steve looks down at him in surprise. “Hey Stevie..” Wow, his voice sounds wrecked.
“H–Eddie? Hi Eddie, stay with me, alright? We’ll get you out of here. Don’t worry.” Steve’s voice is shaky. Where are they anyway? He’s only looking up at a sky; a dark, dark, sky whose clouds are illuminated every once in a while by flashes of red.
Damn, his imagination is something else.
“No worries, b-big boy, you’ve got me now, huh?” He tries to grin, smile at some inside joke (he couldn’t quite say where from), but the motion stings the left side of his face.
Steve chuckles faintly though, so he counts it as a win. “Yeah Eddie, Harrington’s gotcha. I’m not gonna leave you here.”
“S-sweet. I’m just gonna…take a quick nap, ‘kay?”
Eddie doesn't manage to hear Steve’s response to that though, as he’s woken up by the sharp pinging of his alarm.
“Wazzat..?”
“Hey, Eds, you good over there?”
Eddie rolls over to the sound of a voice, “Steve!” He says once he’s blinked the sleep away from his eyes enough to recognize the yellow blur seated at the end of the other bed.
“Hey, Eddie.” Steve smiles warmly at him.
“I was just dreamin’ about you.” Eddie rolls back over and presses his face back into his pillow.
“Only good things, I hope?” there’s still a smile in his voice.
That gives Eddie pause. “No, actually,” he rolls back over and sits up fully. “You were carrying me, and I must’ve been hurt pretty bad, we were both covered in blood and…you looked so sad, Stevie.”
Steve’s got a sad, worried frown on his face.
“Yeah, just like that!” Eddie points at him accusatory.
“Well of course I’d be sworried. I don’t want to lose you!”
“....Did you just combine the words ‘sad’ and ‘worried’ into ‘sworried’?”
Steve says nothing.
“Fuck, that's adorable.” Eddie mumbles (mostly) to himself and pushes himself up off his bed. “How’d I get in here, anyway? I don’t remember walking.”
“I carried you in once we got here.” Steve hands him a pair of jeans and a henley, “Hey, maybe that’s why you had a dream about me carrying you.”
Eddie just shrugs, and pulls on the offered clothes. “Makes sense. Alright, let me go do the patented Munson three-step beauty routine and we’ll get outta here.”
Steve smirks at him. “Three whole steps, huh?”
“Shit, Shave, and Sh-brush my teeth.” Eddie counts out on his fingers.
He really, really, likes the sound of Steve’s laugh.
Pt. 6 here!
wooooo part 5!! I don't think I have any notes for this one, onto the tags!: @undreaming-rambles, @thefreakandthehair, @potentialheartofdarkness, @munsonfamilyband, @evix-syne666, @mightbeasleep, @hardboiledleggs
#st#st fic#stranger things#stranger things fic#steddie#steddie fic#steve harrington x eddie munson#steve harrington#eddie munson#spn#supernatural#destiel#deancas#dean winchester#castiel#destiel!steddie#st spn au#nancy wheeler#dustin henderson#will byers#wing fic#ig?#noelle writes
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Bye-Bye, Miss American Pie || The Unknown Widow
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Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Yelena Belova x Reader (Platonic)
Warnings: Mentions of the Red Room tactics; mentions of blood; mentions of killing; dark themes; mention of injuries sustained from torture; trauma response described; mention of weapons. If I have missed any warnings, please let me know.
Word Count: 2628 words.
Summary: It’s time to pay Melina a visit, but will she have all the answers?
A/N: Part 9 of ‘The Unknown Widow’. One step closer to the end… also I wrote this at like 4 am so if it doesn’t make sense I apologise. Also when the reader has no recollection of what is happening- I’ve used it as a trauma response from the mission.
Please do not repost (on here or any social media platform) copy, translate or take ownership of my work. Reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated <3
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10
Masterlist
*Italics indicate flashback
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GIF not mine
Bye, Bye Miss American Pie- The Unknown Widow:
The aircraft makes a harsh landing in the middle of nowhere- having run out of fuel.
Yelena and I jolted forwards, both releasing grunts of pain from the restriction caused by the seatbelts tightening over our chests.
“Are you okay?” I ask her, struggling to take my seatbelt off.
“Never better,” She sarcastically replies as she slumps back in her chair, catching her breath from the impact.
I turn to look towards the back, “Are you two okay?” I ask, noticing how Natasha gets straight up and staggers to the door, opening it in frustration. Alexei on the other hand is struggling to his feet after having fallen from his seat- that will teach him to wear his seatbelt next time.
After taking a few seconds to gather our surroundings, we exit the aircraft with all of our supplies. I look around at the mixture of purple flowers and green details surrounding us- it’s beautiful, though simple it’s somewhat calming after the last few hours we’ve just endured.
I take a big breath in, filling my lungs with fresh air, I turn to look at Yelena who’s smirking at me. I release my breath, “What?”
“Oh nothing, you’re just acting like you’ve never been outside before.” She says.
“Well, after being in a confined space with Alexei for hours, you take all the fresh air you can get.” I jokingly remark.
Yelena releases a breath of amusement, seemingly agreeing that Alexei’s prison days have not treated him well.
I look over to see Natasha is squatting on the floor, glaring around as she processes the situation we’re in. The last thing we need is Natasha in a bad mood.
The irritating sound of the aircraft rattling from its damages disturbs the calming atmosphere, suddenly a wave of black smoke emerges from the structure- signalling that it is done for.
Alexei decides that this is the perfect opportunity to say, “You should’ve brought the Avengers’ superjet.”
I turn to him and display a look of amazement, surely he knows this type of comment will only annoy Natasha and Yelena further. He studies my face in confusion and mouths ‘What?’ to me as he shrugs his shoulders.
I just shake my head as I turn to see Natasha and Yelena venturing away from the scene.
“I swear, if I hear one more word from him, I will kick him in the face.” I hear Yelena say as I jog up alongside them.
“Now, now Yelena, we’ve talked about these urges.” I teasingly say.
“He’s the exception, he deserves it.” She bites back, allowing Alexei to get under her skin.
Alexei calls for Natasha, causing her to release an unamused sigh as we carry on walking through the naturally decorated track.
Alexei chases after us, repeating Natasha’s name in order to catch her attention.
“Come here, I want to ask you something.” He says in a desperate tone, Natasha looks at Yelena as they both mutually roll their eyes.
Yelena and myself decide to carry on walking as Natasha turns to him expectantly, she gives him a simple, ‘What?’ As he tries to think of his next words to her.
We make a short distance ahead, though barely being able to hear what Alexei and Natasha are discussing.
“What are you thinking?” Yelena suddenly asks me.
I look at her, shaking my head slightly, “It doesn’t matter.”- she knows me too well.
Yelena nudges her arm into me, causing me to veer off the path a bit before I reclaim my spot next to her, “Come on, we don’t keep secrets.”
I release a sigh, “It’s just what Alexei said on the aircraft- about me helping you two out and him being surprised. Also the stuff about Dreykov.”
“What about Dreykov?” She asks as she studies my face with concern.
“Something about him using me as ‘payback’, I don’t know Yelena. It just seems like an odd thing for him to say.” I look towards the ground, kicking the odd pebble I come across.
Yelena is about to reply before we hear Natasha raise her voice from behind us, “You haven’t seen Yelena or I in twenty years and you’re gonna ask me about you?” She says in a displeased tone.
Yelena and I turn around to see Alexei standing off to the side, “What is with this tension? Did I do something wrong?” He asks.
Yelena rubs at her forehead and releases a pitied laugh, “Is that a serious question?”
“Is he just referring to today or…” I add, wondering how Alexei could be so oblivious to his inappropriate ways.
“Oh because you’re so perfect, last I heard you were Dreykov’s most prized possession.” Alexei remarks.
“Ah, well he has a new toy he likes to send out on missions, I’m essentially worthless to him now.” I say, not wanting to get into the details of the Taskmaster.
Alexei raises an eyebrow at that piece of information, clearly being the first time he’s heard of this, “How the mighty fall” he says, causing me to shake my head in amusement.
He releases a sigh, before glancing between Natasha and Yelena, “I only ever loved you girls, I did my best to make sure you would succeed. To achieve your fullest potential; and everything worked out.” He proclaimed.
Natasha shook her head, tired of hearing Alexei’s words, “Everything worked out?” She questioned.
Alexei was quick to confirm this, highlighting that for Natasha something did work out for her in her life- however that was of her own making.
I decided to take a seat on the ground, knowing Alexei was going to go off on a tangent in concern with the past.
I start picking aimlessly at the grass whilst Alexei praises the efforts of Yelena for being one of the best assassins to come out of the Red Room and to Natasha for becoming an Avenger.
This causes me to wonder if this is what it’s like to have proud parents- another thing the Red Room deprived the Widows of.
I look up to see Alexei grabbing Natasha and Yelena’s arms, shaking them to emphasise his words, “Your ledgers must be dripping, just gushing red.” I smirk as I notice Yelena staring at her flopping arm in confusion.
Alexei finally pulls them both into a hug, telling them how proud he is of them.
However, Natasha firmly pushes away from him, looking at him in disgust- the things he’s most proud of are her worst nightmares about herself.
She scoffs as she storms straight past me, I watch her go past, wanting to comfort her but not really knowing how. I pick myself up as Alexei tightens his hold on Yelena, giving her a kiss on the head.
Yelena protests, “Okay, let go of me now, you smell really bad.” -Touching on the subject we discussed earlier.
I can’t help but smile as she makes her way over to me, causing her to playfully shove at my head before I can say anything. I link my arm through hers as we walk after Natasha.
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After about ten minutes of walking, the group is divided. Alexei and Natasha are up ahead- Alexei is desperately trying to plead his case to Natasha, explaining why she should embrace her past and not fear it.
Yelena and I are slowly trailing behind, not really up for Natasha’s sour mood, all thanks to Alexei.
As we’re walking I can hear Yelena humming a tune, whilst adjusting the bag in her hand. It takes me a few seconds to register what it is but I decipher it enough to join in, “So bye-bye, Miss American Pie.” I sing softly.
This causes Yelena’s gaze to shoot over to me, “You remembered?” She says with a giddy smile.
“Of course I do, you used to sing it to me when I had a nightmare, it always calmed me down enough for me to go back to sleep.” I say as I shove my hands in my pockets, focusing on the ground in front.
Yelena looks away in sadness, knowing how hard those times were for the both of us.
I look over and see the serious look on her face, so I decide to change that. I know the song means a lot to Yelena, so now we can make a new, happier memory with it.
I wrap my arm around her shoulders and continue the song, “Drove my Chevy to the levee-“
“But the levee was dry.” Yelena finishes as she hooks her arm around my waist.
By now we were both singing, “Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye, singing ‘This will be the day that I die’. This will be the day that I die!” We finish off in a fit of laughter knowing our singing could use some work.
We finish the rest of the song skipping behind Alexei and Natasha.
We don’t notice how Natasha looks behind at us, smiling at the way we interact so carefree, making each other happy.
Natasha stands still for a moment, causing Alexei to stop, she nods her head to signal for him to carry on- he does, placing his hands in his pockets and admiring the scenery.
We walk closer to her as she addresses Yelena, “Lena, go walk with Alexei and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”
Yelena whines in protest, “Natasha-“
Natasha sends her a glare, causing her to huff in frustration and march her way towards Alexei.
I start to get nervous, wondering why Natasha wanted to get me alone. She matches my pace as she walks beside me, “You know, I never did thank you properly for saving her.” She says out of nowhere.
I look at her puzzled, hoping she’ll elaborate, “I always wanted to save Yelena, I thought about her every day I was out of the Red Room. She means more to me than life itself, I just have a funny way of showing it I guess.” She says as she smiles sadly at herself.
I use this as my moment to talk, “She loves you, you know. She talked about you every day when we were in the Red Room. Even when we were told to view you as the enemy she did nothing but praise you to me. Yes, she was hurt by your leaving but she thinks the world of you Natasha.” I look over to see her avoiding my gaze, she discreetly tries to cover her sniffles by clearing her throat in between.
“Well thank you for looking after her for me.” She says simply.
I smile gratefully at Natasha, “She’s like family to me, I’d do anything for her.”
Natasha looks at me with tear filled eyes, “I guess that makes you family to me too.”
My heart soars at this, not just from Natasha trusting me enough to open up but for her acknowledging her past ties to Yelena- If only she was this understanding at the gas station with Yelena.
We continue our journey in silence- well that is until Yelena and I have to swap places as she threatened to push Alexei down the hill if she had to walk one more step next to him.
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“Melina’s farm should be just down here.” Alexei announces.
Unbeknownst to us, we were being stalked by a sniper.
I stop, allowing Yelena to jump off my back from giving her a piggyback- to which I jokingly offered, not expecting her to actually take advantage of it.
I glance down at the scene ahead, spotting a small pig farm. It blends in well, not easily found by civilians.
I look over at Yelena, noticing her displaying a pout as she looks on.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” I ask gently.
She shakes her head, trying to rid the tears starting to form, “This is going to be really hard.”
Before I can comfort her she walks forward with Natasha and Alexei, causing me to follow also.
As we near closer I spot the fences surrounding the farm, as I look along them to view what is contained within them I notice a woman holding a rather impressive sniper in her hands staring at us in conflict.
She studies each of our faces rigorously. When her eyes meet mine her features seem to harden. Though I was convinced I hadn’t met Melina, there’s something awfully familiar about her now that I see her up close.
I find myself looking away from her gaze out of fear. I stare at the grass surrounding the fence as I hear Alexei announce, “Honey, we’re home.”
I come to the realisation that I blocked her out for a reason.
ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ\\\ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ \\\ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ \\\ ⴵ ⴵ ⴵ
“Did anyone survive?” General Dreykov questioned me.
“No, General. I eliminated them all as per your request.” I reply in a monotone way.
“The files. Did you retrieve them?” He asks as he makes his way around the desk.
I nod, “Yes, I handed them over to a Guard as soon as I returned to base.”
General Dreykov claps his hands slowly, stopping in front of me, “Well done Lara, those files are vital to the next phase of our rise to power. Those worthless lives you took today, they were too naive to understand the power they had in their possession. We did them a favour. You’re dismissed, return to your chamber at once.”
“Thank you General.” I say as I salute him and make my way out of his office.
I march through the halls of the Red Room like a robot. My face shows no emotion, my mind is blank other than the screams of my victims replaying on a constant loop.
I am brought to a halt when a hand is placed on my shoulder.
I don’t dare look at who has stopped me, I just look forward, desperate to escape the reality I’m in.
I see the basic outline of a figure standing in front of me, tilting my jaw from side to side slightly to assess the damage from my mission.
“Come with me.” Is all I hear as I am guided to an unknown part of the facility.
By this point, I’m completely lost. I can’t register anything, not actions; not people; nothing. I put a mental, protective barrier up to process what I have just done to those innocent victims who were just trying to stop Dreykov from gaining more power than he already has.
Due to this, I don’t register as gentle hands rid me of my blood stained tactical suit, as they whisper several apologies for me having to go through this and wishing they could do more to help me. How those gentle hands run me a warm bath and help wash all the blood from my skin and hair- majority of the blood not being my own. The water now being tainted with blood of the victims of the Red Room. How the owner of these gentle hands cry as they trace the scars on my back from General Dreykov’s punishments.
I just sit there and stare at nothing.
Eventually they dry me off and dress me into a fresh, standard Widow suit- ready for training. As soon as they’re done, they inhale a deep breath of composure and state, “You’re dismissed Widow.”
The only part I do register is my salute and continuation of my march through the Red Room.
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I’m brought out of my daze when Yelena places a hand on me, causing me to flinch.
“Hey, hey Lara, we’re going inside. You okay?” She asks as she notices my panicked expression.
I nod wordlessly as I make my way towards the farmhouse.
My mind races with thoughts and questions, how will I tell Natasha and Yelena that Melina, their ‘Mother’ helped me in the Red Room in secret and it is only now that my mind is free that I have just realised it.
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Tag list: @jeyramarie @sophie-reads-too-much @spectormarcc
#marvel#natasha romanoff#mcu#fan fic#marvel fan fic#slightly smarter nat’s writing#slightly smarter nat#black widow#florence pugh#scarlett johansson#the unknown widow#part 9#yelena belova#yelena belova fanfiction#yelena belova x you#yelena belova imagine#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff fanfic#natasha romanoff x yelena belova x reader#Natasha x yelena x reader#platonic fanfiction#alexi shostakov#black widow fanfiction#black widow imagine#general dreykov#the red room#Melina mcu#black widow movie#natasha romanoff x reader
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hi ray! i'm curious to know how ur writing process goes so i have a bunch of questions for u to answer if you're up for it 😊
1. where do u usually draw inspo for ur fics?
2. how long does writing a reaction take u compared to full-blown works (like series, one-shots, etc.)
3. how do u cope with writer's block?
4. when coming up with specific scenarios for each member, do u consider their IRL traits & characteristics when writing or do u just come up with a plot that could apply to all the boys?
and finally...
5. how tf are u so talented at sharing stories (so much so that ur updates are the ONLY thing i look forward to these days)? 💗
i apologize in advance if these questions are intrusive; ily tysm and have a nice day!
Hii lovely anon!! I definitely am up for it ahhh this is something I've never done before.
Here we go:
1. Inspiration for fics:
I usually get inspired by random moments during the day. Most of the time, I get an idea for a plot either by the k-dramas that I watch, which I try and modify according to my taste (almost always includes adding some more angsty scenarios to it). Other times, I get random ideas when I'm studying - I'm not even sure how - the idea just pops into my head. I also tend to write out a scene that plays out in my head right after I get inspired to write it so that I don't lose the touch and the burst of energy that I got for that piece.
I also do get a lot of ideas from my friends and close ones. Be it them directly telling me to write about something or just a part of their life that appears to be worth writing about. Quite a few works on my blog have been inspired by the lovely @persefoneniverse , so of course, I also try to work with an idea that has been given to me, trying to fit it into my style of writing.
Works that have been written outside of the influence of others would entirely be inspired by real-life experiences that I've lived through. During Happier (the longest fic I've ever written) - I included descriptions of poor health which were struggles that I've faced when I was at my lowest. There are several instances where I've recreated a scene from my life - just as it is - like Taehyung's and Seokjin's reaction to the reader fainting, it's funny but I've fainted exactly the same way. So yes, I also tend to rely on situations I've been in, it gives me an idea as to how a person truly feels - the emotions that they experience and express, the pain and it's intensity, etc. - instead of just trying to make a wild guess as to what would be an appropriate reactions of person x to y and z.
2. How long I take to write:
Tbh, it entirely depends on my mood. Sometimes I sit to write during a short break that I've taken from my studies (which is about 30 minutes) so I finish almost 3-4/7 member's reactions. When I'm completely in the mood to write and do nothing else, I take much longer, almost 1.5 hours to write one reaction set.
Sometimes the ideas for the reactions just come straight to me, sometimes I struggle to come up with them. So including the time that I utilize to come up with an idea (i try to keep every scenario different and unique so that my works don't appear repetitive), writing it out, finding appropriate GIFs (which surprisingly takes much longer than I thought), I'd say that it takes me at least 2 hours to write a reaction set.
Longer fics, on the other hand, take me quite some time. I took 4 weeks to write Happier (my longest fic so far - 25k words). I'm not that great at being consistent tbh, so most of the times, I write for a while and then I stop. So that's one of the reasons why they take so long. Building characters, the settings, the plot, etc. takes up quite some time too, but once I've completed those, I'd say half my job is done.
3. Coping with writer's block:
There are quite a few things I do when I go through a writer's block. Firstly, I stop writing. This really proved to be useful to me because the more I used to struggle, the more I used to run away from writing. So to avoid that, whenever I feel stuck, I just stop writing. It takes me about a week to refresh my mind and get back to it.
I try to read and explore different genres and authors. I'm a big Nicholas Sparks fan, I've got a hard copy of every single book that he's ever written and his works are officially my 'cure to writer's block'. His language is simple and style of writing is spectacular. The way he plays with a character blows my mind - so naturally, this inspires me to try and do the same.
I also watch a lot of horror movies when I go through a writer's block. I don't know how, but it helps. Not majorly for the plot, but tiny elements in scenes usually stand out even more when I struggle to write - it's almost like a detector for ideas lol - and I get thoroughly inspired by the little things in movies. Be it the villain's emotions (fear/rage/revenge/pain) or even an outfit that someone wore or the food they ate, everything usually stands out even more and helps me quite a bit.
Lastly, reading my own works helps me get out of a writer's block too. It reminds me what I'm capable of and highlights areas I could improve, so yeah, that's pretty much it hahaha.
4. Choosing traits that match the member's personality?
I'm so glad you've asked me this ahhh. Yes, I always try to give a character a trait that matches the true identity of the individual, since I'm writing about the members. This has been sometimes that I've been following from the very beginning. I used to read a lot of fanfiction before I began writing, and it used to frustrate me when a few writers would give some of the members a characteristic which is totally unlike them. That had been one of the reasons why I started this blog. I wanted to write stuff that was realistic, something that someone could read and go, "damn, I can totally see them reacting/behaving that way". That's my reward, honestly. It's something that I've been doing from the start and when people notice that in my writing, it makes me feel like I've accomplished something that I was working towards.
I'll give you an example of describing the member's true identity through a piece of writing. I read somewhere that 'Jin is the youngest in his family but the eldest of the group, and Taehyung is the eldest in his family and one of the youngest in the group, so sometimes Taehyung tends to take care of Jin the way an elder would.' I read this a long time ago and it really stuck with me. It gives you an idea of how complex a person's behavior could be, and over time, it helps in building up the character of the person you're writing about.
5. Talented? Pfft- nah
This...whatever I do here, is something that I never planned on doing. In school, I'd always be at the top of my class in English and I'll never forget the day my English teacher told my mum to 'stop making me watch sad movies because it's showing in my essays.' LMAO this is where I get the angst streak from. My essays in school used to be so bloody depressing and blue that anyone who'd read it would become sad, and I guess this has been something I unknowingly used to do from a very very long time. I should try to look up some of the answer sheets from them and show you guys what I would write ahhh this is inspiring me right now lol.
The funniest thing, or rather the irony of the situation is that my spoken English SUCKS. I have no idea why. I've been trying to improve on my speaking skills for years now, but everything that sounds so good in my head just turns into gibberish when I speak it ARGH. This is why I've had so many people tell me that my English is horrible. It used to hurt me a lot, I'd feel really insulted, and naturally, I used writing to try and improve at least some part of my English. One of the biggest accomplishments is getting my mum to finally say "you're English is actually pretty good." like yes mom, I've been writing for years now lol. So yeah, I really wouldn't call this my talent. It's something that I've tried to mold and sharpen and shape instead of just being handed a ready-made piece, you know? I've fallen and rubbed my nose against the floor countless of times in embarrassment, but this has also taught me what it feels like to hold my head high.
Something that Namjoon spoke during a conference when he was asked how he stays humble. I'd never be able to stop if I begin writing about his sexy brain but yeah he said something about considering himself to be just 5% of the entire picture. That hit me like a truck. It really brought my pride to the floor and humbled me in an instant. Because that's what I want to do, too. What started out as a hobby has now become an activity that so many people are a part of, which I couldn't be more grateful for. It gives me a chance to offer a part of me that sometimes helps people, comforts them, lightens up their mood, gives them the inspiration, etc. which has always been my motive behind writing.
The fact that you've been looking forward to my stories makes me so happy, dear anon. I cannot begin to express how grateful I am to you, and to each and every reader that is a part of this beautiful journey of my life. None of these questions were intrusive, don't worry hahaha. I've always wanted to be open about everything I struggle with or even the little accomplishments that come my way every now and then, and I'm really really happy that I got to do this :))
*sigh* phew, that was a lot. I hope you haven't grown bored ;)
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Do you ever just want to be...held?
#Iris Whines#A headache is settling in at 1:20 AM and I have school early tomorrow and I’ve been in a funk all day#Like fun times baby#Also of course it’s raining and the weather’s going cold it’s not like my depression changes with weather#I just want to be held softly and just tucked away from reality for a bit#Friday really punched me down and I hate having to go on with school as if nothing happend#I’ve realised University life really does not help me because its brand of teaching just doesn’t vibe with me#I need more attentive learning and a smaller enviroment#But this is just lonely and overwhelming and too much self study#That my poor little ADHD brain can’t keep up with#Urgh I’m just in a funk and can’t sleep#And my head is starting to bother me A Lot#URGH I AM TIRED#And am not looking forward to 4-5 hours of being outside in pain
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To Call You Mine
college!tsuki x reader series
Ch. 1 - study buddies
warning(s): swearing, early early mornings 😵💫, second hand embarrassment LOL
a/n: ahhhhh!! Here’s chapter one of my first series!! I have the masterlist and details linked above but for some quick info: this is a college!au multi chapter fic about tsuki and the reader :) if you’d like to be added to the taglist let me know!! And as always I really appreciate your thoughts and comments n all that :) my inbox is always open!!! Enjoy <3 psps - don’t forget to check out the playlist linked above hhehehe
You’re not sure what woke you first; your alarm, the pain shooting up your back from the stiff cot your university has the audacity to refer to as a “bed”, or your own sour attitude from having to be up so early.
Five am. Five am. It takes a certain kind of sick and twisted individual to suggest meeting up to study at five in the morning. Although, you have to admit, it does take a different kind of person to actually agree to those terms.
Why, why, why, why, why.
Is the mantra you chant to yourself while you mindlessly dress and pack your bag, not even bothering to snatch a power bar from your nightstand for breakfast. Water will have to do.
You make an effort to click the door shut behind you quietly, not wanting to wake up your more than sweet dorm mate who’d surely be focusing on being just as careful as you were right now.
“Oh my gosh, don’t you have that study date in the morning sweetie? You should be sleeping right now.” Bonnie, said dorm mate, leans over the back of your desk chair to peer down at the page of your calculus ll textbook you’ve been staring at for the past ten minutes. Concern is evident in her voice and her body language as she brings up a hand to gingerly rub your shoulder, hoping her small sideways smile will give you a sense of comfort. Or maybe even convince you to give it, and yourself, a rest.
“I know, I know. I just want to be prepared is all. I’m already dropping past a C at the speed of light and I’m sure my professor thinks I’m an idiot, hence him actually setting me up with a tutor, and I don’t need this guy to think I’m one too.” Your head falls in your hands at the end of your sentence, a dramatic groan feeling needed to really emphasize your point, too.
“Okay, just head to bed soon.” She placed a kiss on the top of your head before crawling into her own bed, using a storage container to prop herself onto it properly. She almost made you homesick with the way she doted on you like she was your mother.
You looked over and tapped the screen of your phone to see it read 9:14, not too late. You could reasonably cram in one more lesson.
You scoffed at yourself with the door fully shut and locked. You should’ve listened to Bonnie when you had the chance, it was just past midnight when you finally tore yourself away from last weeks review and decided to get ready for bed. Barely even four hours later and you’re up and getting ready to look at it all again.
You could at least appreciate how quiet the dorm hall was this ea-
“Mornin’, you!”
You internally banged your head against the wall at the bright voice that came towards you with such heavy and loud footsteps, how can someone’s footsteps manage to be so loud on carpet?
You substituted a hello with a gentle smile and wave as your R.A., who definitely didn’t remember your name - which is fine cause you didn’t remember theirs either, rushed past you.
Sighing deeply, you left the warm confines of the dorm building and stepped into the cold and brisk morning, starting your trek to the library.
He couldn’t have even chose a coffee place or something?
You had some, thoughts, about this guy. You didn’t know much about him, only two things.
One, his name: Tsukishima Kei.
Two, he was a good enough student to be assigned to you as a tutor.
You swallowed your slight embarrassment at the thought of your professor reaching out to someone on your behalf and instead chose to focus more on how weird this guy has to be.
Waking up before the sun rises on a Sunday was not something you looked forward to, you don’t think anybody would truly; especially to meet someone for the first time; yet this guy thinks it’s a great idea. So much so he didn’t even think to ask first, just tell you when and where to meet.
Thursday 4:14 pm
- ‘It’s Tsukishima. See you at 5 in the library this sunday.’
- ‘Oh hi!! Oh ok, am or pm?? lol’
Thursday 7:43 pm
- ‘am.’
- ‘Ok cool, see ya then!’
And that was it. Neither of you have texted since, which was three days ago on a Thursday afternoon. It kind of bothered you really, I mean, what kind of self righteous ass-
You took a deep breath and chose to think happy thoughts instead. You’d much rather be in a somewhat pleasant mood when you meet this guy than have some grudge against a stranger. And he probably talks different than he texts, right? You’re sure he didn’t mean to sound like a complete jerk.
You shook your head as if you were shaking away your thoughts as you started to walk along the path to the library. It was a fairly nice walk, about five minutes, and being alone was kind of peaceful on the way there this early.
Your feet shuffled only slightly on the cold concrete surprisingly enough considering the way your fatigue was starting to creep into your joints - but surely the cold wasn’t helping.
It was that kind of morning cold that stung your nostrils when you breathed in and tickled your cheeks and ears. It made your hands clench and unclench in your coat pockets, debating whether or not it’d be worth it to pull the cold metal of your jacket zipper just a centimeter higher in hopes of keeping your neck warmer. The morning fog leaving droplets on the synthetic material of your coat, making it squeak awfully when you moved your arms. And there was the dew on the grass that’d cling onto the tops of your shoe when you had to walk through it.
But the way the old fashioned light posts lit your walk and illuminated the fog kind of made your slight discomfort worth it. And by the time you reached the tall brick library, you could almost say you were in a pleasant mood, almost. And then you remembered why you were here.
You took one final deep breath as you reached the heavy doors of the university library. It was a grand sight really.
The building had its own separate spot on campus, towering at about four stories high, which although didn’t sound ginormous, it definitely felt that way when you had to climb those stairs to the top floor for a book you really didn’t even want. The brick with the foliage creeping up the sides to cover some of the lower windows even gave it an almost magic feeling when you took it in from the outside, it’s too bad that sense of wonder couldn’t be mirrored on the inside.
It was too quiet, especially this early, it smelt almost stale, and everything seemed to have a layer of dust no matter how new a book was. And the bathrooms? Old. Most stalls didn’t even have usable locks at this point. It’s arguably all apart of the charm of such an old building, but it’s not as charming when you have to reach out to keep the stall door closed with your fingertips just to use the restroom. And the water from the sink that never seems to get warm enough when you wash your hands doesn’t help either. Yet the water fountains are always too warm curiously enough.
You made little to no noise besides the occasional rustling of your jacket and squeaking of your shoes as they padded across the dingy off-colored carpet towards the back of the first floor.
There were various sizes of tables spread out throughout the space, few actually matching in color or style. The chairs varied less - but you could still find the oddball desk chair, or the chair with the wooden frame just a tad to wide to feel like a normal seat but just as evenly too small to be a bench.
Your heavy eyes surveyed the dimly lit space in hopes of finding any sign of human life when you finally noticed a backpack haphazardly tossed onto a table, still zipped open. Pens were splayed across the table with a single notebook, scribbles scrawled across the pages too far from you to be read. Not seeing anyone occupying the seat pulled away from the tables edge, you took out your phone to take a peek at the time.
4:58 am
Wow, I’m early?
Shoving your phone back into your pocket you began to make your way towards the (un)occupied table, debating whether a seat closer or farther would be more polite.
If I sit too close that’ll definitely be-
“Hey.”
You felt your shoulders hunch up to your ears and a small gasp leave your mouth at the way the voice behind you so suddenly interrupted your train of thought.
You turned around to come face to face with the voice.
“Are you (y/n)?”
Damn. He’s kinda tall.
Kind of was certainly an understatement. God he was definitely above 6 feet, 6’2” maybe? No, maybe even a little taller.
A single earbud was still in his ear as the other hung down and rested against his chest. He took the time to take the other out and wrap the cord gently around his middle and index finger before shoving it into his coat pocket, presumably the same one with his phone, in an effort to prevent them from getting tangled most likely. He took a deep breath and eyed you up and down before chuckling softly to himself.
“Okay.”
The tall man, who you’re now beginning to realize is Tsukishima, gives you a quizzical stare with a quirked eyebrow as he looks you up and down one last time, definitely judging you and your silence at this point, before turning around and making his way to a table.
Well it’s a good thing he stopped you before you sat at some other strangers table. You don’t think your heart could’ve taken that today.
You watched his back as he made his way towards a table farther into the back, closer to a window peering out onto the foggy and barely illuminated field.
Oh shit
“Oh, sorry!” You clear your throat and begin again, your own sudden volume startling yourself for a moment, as you double your pace to catch up and walk beside him towards a table,
“Um, yeah. Sorry, it’s a little early, brain hasn’t woke all the way up.”
Silence.
At the lack of a response, you decide to awkwardly laugh rather than wallow at the fact he didn’t even give a pity chuckle at your bad attempt at a polite joke to ease the seemingly tense vibe between the two of you.
Okay, well he definitely seems to talk the way he texts.
Clearing your throat again, you tried once more.
“I’m (y/n) by the way, it’s nice to m-“
“I know your name.” He stopped at the table and turned to glance down at you over his shoulder, the tiniest of smirks resting on his face with raised eyebrows, before pulling out a seat to sit in.
Yeah, maybe being quiet for a bit would do you some good. You’ll try again later.
Still trying to shake the embarrassment, no humiliation at this point, you busied yourself with taking out all the proper materials and waiting while he did the same. Sitting patiently opposite of Tsukishima, you decided to finally get a good look at him. Take in what you see and make some judgements.
He shook off his jacket and draped it over the back of his chair, showing you his wide shoulders underneath the simple grey t-shirt he wore. You didn’t fail to notice how the sleeves were cuffed, either.
Hm. Nice look.
Points for Tsukishima.
His hands and ears were slightly pink from the weather outside, contrastingly sweet against the paleness of his skin.
Kinda cute, in like a Keebler elf kind of way.
More points, you guess, for Tsukishima.
He sighed as he opened up the calculus ll textbook, adjusting his glasses with long and slender fingers before flipping through the pages. You decided it’d be best to do the same.
It was quiet for a moment too long when you thought it might be a good idea to try and speak again, but apparently he must’ve had the same idea.
“So, why d-“
“Thanks for-“
Cutting each other off, you pursed your lips as he gave you some emotionless stare, one of you waiting for the other to start back up again.
Andddd, another awkward beat of silence.
Jesus, this was gonna be the longest hour of your life.
—————————
AHHHHH HERES CHAPTER ONE - I promise the next one will be full of tsuki and tsuki content ok, I just had to get the ball rolling and really wanted to post smth!! I hope you guys like and please please leave your thoughts or anything in my ask box or anywhere!! I’d love to talk :D MWAH I also have little footnotes in my tags too :) (more like commentary but yeah)
taglist for series: @plutowrites @c0rncheez @ruetaro @daniagabriela48 @toyas-wife @devilkou @anime-and-kpop-trash (if you’d like to be added or removed let me know! And if ur crossed off tagging didn’t work!)
#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader#hq <3#tsukishima headcanons#tsukishima x y/n#tsukishima hcs#tsukishima imagine#hq tsukishima#haikyuu tsukishima#tsukishima fluff#tsukishima x reader#tsukishima kei#tsukishima x you#tsukishima drabbles#tsukishima fanfiction#STOP NO CAUSE WHY AM I SO NERVOUS ABOUT POSTING THIS AHHHH#no cause I’m about to fall in love with y/n’s roommate are u joking like… hold on now#AND I REFUSE TO GIVE TSUKI THOSE MUSTY HEADPHONES OM#EARBUDS WILL DO JUST FINE YALL.#and yams most definitely made him cuff those sleeves smh 🙄
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the glow up | kth (4)
pairing: taehyung x reader
summary: after going off to college, you & your best friend committed to working out. a year later, the results show, and you cant wait for your hot hometown friends to see you. now all you wanna do is wild out and have lots of sex, and enjoy it without feeling insecure
genre: smut, childhoodfriends!au weightloss!au (is that a thing) friends-to-lovers!au
word count: 2.2k
warnings: tittie sucking, fingering (dubcon bc jungkook is an ass), misogyny/sexism, public sex (locker room), creampie, unprotected sex, slight slut shaming, body image issues (please remember that there is no ideal body type and every body is beautiful)
part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 masterlist
“Hey y/n” You were startled at his use of your name as opposed to his endearing princess. He was dressed nicely in a black hoodie with his glasses on, but his expression was tense.
“Tae” You acknowledge him as you got into the passenger seat. You really really liked his car now. “Listen, you don’t have to be sorry about anything”
“No, I really do though. I could have just shut up and let you and Jimin have your happy ending” He huffed, “We both know it’ll ultimately work out that way anyway, I just added drama and I’m sorry”
You wondered exactly when Taehyung got so mature, or if he had always been this way and you just never noticed.
“Anyways…I hope its okay, but I invited Hobi and Jungkook to lunch with us” Your face dropped slightly, and he noticed. You hated that he was being awkward. You wanted to feel all the amazing things you had the other day all over again. Taehyung was a drug. You had a hit and now you wanted more.
“Tae…” You whispered, grabbing his hand and bringing it to your chest. His jaw clenched as he made contact with your heaving breast. “Please” You made pleading eyes at him allowing him to squeeze your tit slowly.
“Hood of the car. Now” He exhaled sternly. You did ask requested, finding yourself in a similar position, back over the headlights, legs wide open, licking your lips in anticipation.
“Sit up” He ordered as he pulled you towards him so that he was standing in between your legs. He pulled down your shirt color until he had access to your clothed breast, moving your bra cup aside and allowing his mouth to trail kisses from your neck—“Mmm you smell good”—to your collar—finally kissing your nipple.
He looked up at you with lust shot eyes as he flicked his tongue across before enveloping it into his mouth. He sucked like a baby, moaning into you, the vibrations from his deep voice stimulating you even more. It was a sigh to behold, as he gripped your hips to hold you against him and sucked you.
You cried out, breathing heavily with the way his tongue was splashing around in circles causing waves of heat to come over you. You liked the ways his lips felt around your nipple, and the way his tongue drew circles around it-you took note. So I’m into this. Huh. You were very aware of how damp your underwear was getting, as yoou ran hyour hands through his hair, clenching as you tilted your head back and moaned.
“You’re fucking delicious princess” He remarked, breaking away finally to admire how he had made you swollen. He ran his thumb over his work, giving one last pinch, making you squirm before he fixed your clothing, “But…we’ll have time for this later. Let’s get going” His eyes had a playful glimmer as he winked at you, riled up and unsatisfied.
Fucking tease.
You arrived at a small urban cafe in the more happening part of town. Hobi and Jungkook were already at a table outside, with tall mimosas in front of them. Jungkook had on flashy sunglasses but lowered them as he saw you approaching, giving you a flirty look and smirking slightly as he watched you walk. Taehyung pulled a chair out for you and you took a seat by Jungkook after giving Hobi a quick back hug.
“Cute outfit y/n. I love the baggy look” Hobi commented. Your face reddened, realizing it was probably really obvious you were wearing Jimin’s clothes.
“She looks hot as fuck.” Jungkook thirsted, shamelessly glancing at your breasts were faintly imprinting against the fabric. He downed the last of his drink.
As you guys shared a meal, you enjoyed conversing openly with Hobi and Jungkook about their sex lives. You appreciated how open and candid they were as you continued to attempt to understand your own desires more.
“Y/n how does it feel to be part of that crowd now” Hobi asked. You tilted your head in confusion. “You know...now that you’re the sexiest girl in town I bet everyone’s been making moves.”
“Yeah I’ve definitely been getting a lot more attention from guys. Shows how fucking shallow half of them are”
“You girls are all hoes though so it doesn’t really matter. Why else would you try so hard to look sexy, yanno? Like I could be hooking up with the same girl and no one else but I still wouldn’t date her because she’s probably gonna dip for the next best dick she can get.” Jungkook added. Taehyung rolled his eyes and kicked him under the table “Hey, I’m just being honest. Why else would you go through a glow up phase? We all did it at some point, we were like yeah I wanna get laid so I better bulk up”
“No Jungkook that’s what you did” Hobi chuckled. “Hot girls aren’t all hoes, and hot guys aren’t just hot so they can get laid. I don’t agree with that. But I do think that everyone needs to fuck around a bit before they settle into a serious relationship or anything. I think it’s healthy when people go around for a bit and then finally are like, yeah okay I’ve seen what’s out there so I can say for certain what I want” Hobi commented, changing the topic. He delved into some details of a recent relationship of his but unfortunately his words did not register with you as you suddenly felt a hand slipping under the waistline of your sweats.
You knew it had to be Jungkook, Taehyung would never touch you without asking. You mouth formed an O as his hand traced along your aroused folds, still wet from Taehyung’s quick tit suck earlier. You gulped, straining to keep your mouth shut as Hobi continued on. You glanced at Taehyung who was observing you very carefully, clearly aware of what was likely going on.
Jungkook slid a finger into your cunt and it sucked it in welcomingly. You bit your lip as he slowly retracted it, allowing you to hear the faint squelching of your tender muscle.
He repeated his motions, causing you to move forward until you were barely hanging on the edge of the chair. You gripped the table tightly, knuckles whitening with the pressure. You wouldn’t dare look at Jungkook, knowing that seeing his face would probably send you over the edge.
He pumped his fingers in and out and you couldn’t help but feel a strange mixture of dread and enjoyment. Yes you were horny, Taehyung had ensured that, so being fingered felt great. But a ball turned in your stomach at the unwanted intrusion from your friend. Were these guys really like this to all the “attractive” girls they hang out with? Do they just constantly flirt and grope them? Ugh.
Taehyung pursed his lips tightly before he finally snapped. “Fucking Christ, just go ahead and fuck right here why don’t you” He folded his arms over his chest, shooting both of you a disappointed glare.
Jungkook slowly pulled his finger out of you and put it straight into his mouth, and you finally made eye contact with him as he licked your arousal off of himself.
“Y/n we’re leaving. God Jungkook did you even get consent you prick?” Taehyung spat at him. You got up and Jungkook slapped your ass playfully.
“She’s one of the hot girls now, might as well treat her like one. Text me babe” He sent an air kiss your way and you shuddered slightly. Taehyung gently took your wrist and led you away.
It was later that evening. Your heart was pounding, and a slight sense of dizziness overcame you as you sped the treadmill up even faster. Taehyung had agreed to accompany you to the gym and you had been sprinting as fast as you could for almost half an hour trying to blow off steam from the events that had happened at lunch.
Jungkook’s words stuck with you, and in a fucked up way you felt like he was trying to prove a point. You felt the air in your lungs escape as your chest tightened. You were overdoing it. You knew that, but you wanted to feel numb. Wanted to feel the bliss of the aftermath of a super intense workout.
Your mind wandered to the biggest issue on your plate. Jimin. You wanted more than anything to go to him. To tell him what happened and get his advice. But you messed that up, and now you were no longer sure if it was worth messing it up. You had never been so conflicted in your life. Your bones screamed at you that your pace was getting too much, pain shooting up to your knees as you pounded your feet with every step.
Talk about running away from your problems.
“Y/n!” Taehyung came over from where he had been doing weights and turned off the treadmill, bringing you to a rapid halt. You panted, sweat soaking you head to toe. Taehyung grabbed your arm to help you stay standing as you began to sway side to side with lightheadedness. You could see black spots paint your vision. He wrapped his arm around you and helped you walk into the locker room where luckily there was no one.
“I don’t wanna feel it Tae…I don’t wanna feel anything. This is all too much. I am so fucking confused. I miss Jimin, and what Jungkook did today I…” You held back a sob, “He’s right. This is what I want isn’t it? So why do I hate it so much. All you guys do whatever you want to these girls you usually get with and sexualize them so much and I’m just not used to it but that’s what I wanted right?”
Taehyung sighed, stroking your back, “Look princess…Jungkook and I aren’t the greatest people. After getting to college, you know how it is, we kinda all became fuckboys. The people we hang out with literally breathe to get off. Everyone fucks everyone else. And I’m no saint at all. I fuck around even more than Jungkook does, albeit I’m a bit more respectful about it, but it’s all the same game to us. I understand that this is all new for you but…I just want you to know that for me, I’m not treating you any differently because of this weight loss thing. I promise. They way I fuck you, the way I treat you…I would have done it just the same a year ago.”
“You say that but”
“I’ve wanted to have sex with you for years okay. I knew you before all of this fucking hook-up culture. I wanted you because I liked you. I still like you, even though we rarely see each other anymore. Not just because of your body. It happened now because you initiated it. I don’t know how else to get it through your head. And by God, what the fuck were you just doing? Were you trying to make yourself pass out? Why would you run that fast?”
“I just needed to relieve some stress okay”
“Then let me help you” His voice was husky and low. Time slowed down as Taehyung carefully leaned closer to you. He trailed his fingers down your sides and around the waist of your shorts, tugging the fabric ever so subtly. He remained still, breathing heavily with a heartbeat drowning out everything. “You can say no. Any time. Even if you realize later that you don’t want to do this anymore you can stop me. I won’t ever get mad and I won’t ever judge you” His voice was quivering before he grabbed your waist and pressed himself up close to you. “Do you want this princess? Can I take care of you?”
You nodded your head as Taehyung leaned down and kissed you while gently pushing you back against the lockers. He quickly pulled off your tanktop, not minding the sweat as he inhaled sharply. He lifted you so you could wrap your legs around him and began to slowly rock his body against yours.
He moaned into you mouth as he felt the impact of your bodies colliding. He spread your legs out wider and began to grind against you faster. You held back screams as he grabbed your breasts. Taehyung licked his lips and kissed you harshly, biting down your lips before mumbling “You’re so fucking hot princess”
“Taehyung” You finally moaned, giving him all the motivation he needed to grind faster. He slipped his hands under your sports bra and began to caress you. You cursed in pleasure.
Suddenly the two of you heard footsteps coming into the locker room. Taehyung allowed you to slide down as he quickly backed away. He took your hand and led you to a far corner of the room before sitting on the locker room bench and pulling your body down on his lap. You looked at him with concern, but Taehyung ignored it completely.
“Tae...you make me feel so fucking good”
“Yeah?” He grinned
“Aren’t we going to get caught?”
“I don’t care” He quickly tugged down your shorts as well as his own revealing his thick cock, with precum budding furiously at the tip, aching to be released. He helped you lower yourself onto him before he gripped your hips and began bouncing you up and down his length.
“Scream my name” He demanded, whispering darkly into your ear “you’re doing so good”
You whimpered, “Taehyung” you cried out as you felt yourself peaking, “Taehyung oh my god don’t stop,” You begged. He was shaking you so violently that you finally were pushed over the edge.
You screamed his name louder than you meant to, feeling Taehyung smile against your neck. He let you get up off of him while he fixed his shorts. He was still aroused, but he didn’t mind. He just wanted you to feel good.
“Is everything okay we heard screaming?” One of the gym staff members walked in just as you had managed to get decent.
“Yes sir, everything is fine! She just saw a spider, poor thing” Taehyung pulled you back into him so you could feel his still hard cock against your asscheek as the staff member nodded and left.
You waited until the footsteps seemed more far off. You turned around and couldn’t suppress your big smile as you made eye contact with Taehyung, who also grinned widely. He grabbed your waist and began to undress you again quickly.
“Hey that’s not fair. I wanna see your shirt off too” You pouted. Taehyung smirked, obeying you and pulling it off effortlessly. You traced the muscles on his chest that formed a perfect 11.
“Like what you see?”
“Jimin has a six pack soooo” You teased as you tugged on his waistline, helping him slide off his shorts again. Your eyes scanned him as he became naked and you licked your lips, “Yeah…” You met his eyes and giggled, “I like what I see”
“Yeah you better” He teased before attacking you with kisses again.
Taehyung slid back inside of your tight pussy while maintaining eye contact with you. He began sucking your neck playfully. He watched you carefully as he began to move in and out of you slowly, picking up the pace as he saw your positive reaction. Taehyung nuzzled his face into your breasts.
“You’ve been waiting for this all day haven’t you” You teased.
“Yeah and what if I have” His voice was raspy, full of lust. The sound send chills down your spine and turned you on more. Taehyung could tell. “Oh you like that huh?” He continued to talk in that voice, grinning as he trailed kisses back up to your mouth.
Taehyung shifted you so your back was on the bench. He spread your legs and entered you slowly. You tilted your head back and just took it all in. After some pumping Taehyung lowered himself closer to your body and looked at you deeply.
“You close?” You asked him sincerely. Taehyung nodded, moaning slightly into your shoulder. You were unsure what to do to help him at that point, your orgasm earlier leaving you too spent for another one. So you decided to just tease him. “What was it that they say in pornos...oh right. You’re doing so good baby” You felt Taehyung’s hips buckle at your words, “Will you please cum for me? God you’re sooooo hot mmm, just like that” You played your most seductive voice and Taehyung knew you were messing around but it still turned him on.
He kissed you chastely, hands grabbing your ass tightly as he came. He cursed under his breath & eventually fell into your lap in exhaustion.
<------previous next-------->
A/N: im tired man idk
taglist: (lmk if you wanna be added!!) @honeyspillings @hollowtree10
#taehyung x you#bangtansmut#bangtansmutcentral#btssmutcentral#bts smut central#bangtan smut net#bts smut#bts smut recs#taehyung smut#taehyung scenarios#taehyung imagine#jimin smut#taehyung fanfic#bts fics
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A Different Path
[Baron Zemo Masterlist] [Marvel Masterlist]
Baron Zemo & OFC
*No pairing in this fic, however, this is a prequel to Reader A stories. The events here help Zemo do The Right Thing which starts Reader A’s relationship with him.
Synopsis: Zemo had always justified his actions as a means to an end. He never regretted for a moment what he did to make the Avengers feel the pain he suffered, that is, until he learns about the unintended cost of his actions.
*Set during The Falcon and the Winter Soldier around episode 4/5*
*Hurt, no comfort * Angst *
Rating/Content Warning: Teen: mild language, mentions of adult and child deaths, bombing the UN, miscarriage (no graphic descriptions)
Word Count: ~1,500
Talk of their movements spread quickly. Her body tensed at the news. Nothing good ever happened with the Avengers being nearby. Even if they weren't in her country, she wanted no part of them. She tried walking past the people discussing them on the street until she heard his name. Her stomach dropped, and her breath caught in her throat. The color drained from her face, and her fists clenched as memories flooded back. She reached for the side of the building for support. He was supposed to be in prison.
"Are you alright?" Someone questioned, hurrying to her.
She swallowed hard, looking down. "I'm okay." She waved off their concern, though silent tears slid down her cheeks.
There wasn't a day when she hadn't thought about that afternoon. Her ears still rang, and she could feel the heat of the explosion. It was the day that changed everything—the day that had taken everything from her.
Waves of sorrow, pain, fear, and anger crashed over her the more she thought about it. He couldn't be allowed to walk free, not after what he had done, not after what she had lost.
She played with the gold chain around her neck, slowly turning her husband's wedding ring in contemplation. They had only been married a year, but they were supposed to have forever. It all felt like yesterday. She closed her eyes and listened for his voice.
The memory of his lips brushing over hers as joy-filled tears covered their faces that morning elicited a fractured smile. It was supposed to be a day of celebration, a day just the three of them. She tried to hold on to that moment before it all went wrong, but it fluttered away, leaving only the pain he had left her with.
The following day was a blur. The next thing she knew, she was in the car heading to Latvia. Her gaze shifted to her purse. The weight of her decision pressed down on her as a sliver of the dark metal grip peaked out. She tucked it deeper away. She still had many miles to go.
The trip seemed longer—like a lifetime had passed as she rehearsed her plan over and over. Her vision darkened as she recalled that fateful day and the memories of all she had lost. Nothing could ever bring them back. Nothing would ever fill the void left by his actions.
Forward, she thought to herself. Every day, she reminded herself to keep moving forward, yet the past always seemed to follow.
It wasn't difficult finding them. They were the talk of the town, so their movements were easy to track; getting him alone, on the other hand, took patience. She followed them, waiting for her moment.
As his two companions argued mindlessly in front of him, she made her way closer. As they passed a small alleyway, she stumbled forward, bumping into him and knocking them both off the street. Her hand was already on the gun before Zemo had time to react. The cold barrel of her weapon was trained on him, begging him to move.
He held his hands up defensively and took a step back. He had made so many enemies he couldn't be sure what she wanted. He watched the slight tremble in her hand, realizing he could disarm her with little effort, but he was curious as to what she wanted. "Perhaps we can come to an understanding?"
Her darkened eyes bared down on him. She swallowed hard, her finger on the trigger. This was the moment she had waited for. She studied him carefully. He didn't look like the monster she had created in her head. He was just a man. He was human, but she knew that was enough. Humanity had the capacity to be the greatest monsters of all.
"I was there that day—in Vienna." Her voice wavered as she continued, "that day seven years ago, outside the U.N."
His face fell somberly in understanding. "It was a means to an end." He offered, his head tilting as he shrugged. "The Super Soldier program had to be ended before more lives were lost. The loss is regrettable, but it was for the greater good."
"That's absolute bullshit," she scoffed, stepping forward, her gun hovering in front of his face. "You blame Super Soldiers and the Avengers for what you lost, but you are no better. No fancy weaponized suit. No serum. No gods, aliens, magic, or whatever else there are these days. It was just you. You took the lives of innocent people without prejudice. They have their blame, but you did the exact same thing to me. I lost my husband."
"My sincerest apologies." His genuine tone surprised her. "I am sorry. I regret the twelve lives lost; however, more were lost in the Battle of Sokovia, and many more would be at risk had the Winter Soldier program been allowed to continue."
"Thirteen."
"What?"
"There were thirteen deaths that day."
His head quirked to the side, not understanding. The news had always reported twelve, and he knew each one of them by name.
"I lost—" Tears fell as she tried to find the words. One hand left the gun and ghosted over her stomach. She couldn't bring herself to touch it. Her whole body trembled as a burning fire rushed through her. "I lost everything." Her voice broke as memories of that moment crashed over her again. The only reason they had even been in Vienna was for her check-up and to find out what they were having. "She would have been our first. We had just decided on her name moments before—Alina."
His eyes closed as he nodded in understanding at the depth of her loss. He had waited to make sure there were no children. He had timed it for when the street was the least crowded. He didn't enjoy taking the lives of innocents, but he needed the Winter Soldier. That was the only way. He tried to remember that day. If he had seen her, he never would have pressed the detonator. Nothing was worth the death of a child. When he opened his eyes again, he cradled her quivering hands around the gun’s grip. "Go ahead. It's okay."
Her lips pressed together, and her head shook to the sides, trying to reconcile what she was about to do. Her pulse raced in her head as the ringing from the explosion returned. She focused her breathing. She had come too far to stop now.
"I understand what you must do. I hold no resentment for it. If I could have had swift judgment like this I would—"
"I'm not you," she cut him off sharply. Her face etched with pain, but her eyes somewhat lighter, having shared her grief.
Zemo's brow turned in as he looked at her curiously.
"I can't hold on to this hate any longer. I won't let vengeance consume me. I won't become what you are."
He exhaled noisily through his pursed lips, his eyes closing, not with relief but disappointment. At least in death, he would be with his family, and that was the only thing he had ever truly wanted.
"I forgive you." It took all her strength, but she said the three words she had practiced during the sixteen-hour drive there. She had never intended to harm him; she just needed his attention. She had carried the burden long enough, and it was time to let it go.
"Why?" He questioned softly; his eyes misted over.
"I am choosing a different path. Your death will not bring my family back. It won't bring me peace. It is something I will always have to live with, and now, you will too."
He leaned into the gun that she still held in her now steady hands. "Please."
"No. This is life. We don't always get what we want. We don't get to choose how our story ends, or when. We live with the pain and the heartbreak. We go on in spite of it. We move forward. All we can do is try and do better...so, do better. Don't waste this."
She breathed deeply, the pressure in her head subsiding. The gun felt lighter as she tucked it back into her bag. She turned away, tears streaming as she held her stomach, finally able to truly grieve the loss of Alina without the haze of bitterness and vengeance clouding it. She looked back once more to him. He seemed smaller somehow. She wasn't sure why she had ever been afraid of him. "Do better," she reminded him and hurried on her way.
He blinked back the tears in his eyes as thoughts of being reunited with Carl and his wife abandoned him, leaving him alone once more. He pulled out a small black notebook, turning to the page about that day, and added her name to the list of the lost. He wouldn't forget her; she would live on, even in death. Her loss was the heaviest on his long list. He sketched a cross next to her name and whispered a silent prayer, although he would never forgive himself. "Alina," his thumb traced her name as her mother's words echoed in his head. "Do better."
#baron zemo#zemo#helmut zemo#the falcon and the winter soldier#tfatws#baron zemo fan fiction#zemo fan fiction#zemo x ofc#baron zemo x ofc#zemo x oc#baron zemo x oc#baron zemo x reader#daniel bruhl
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Distractions and O.W.L.S ✧ Draco x Reader
Summary: You start neglecting yourself and Draco when you begin stressing for O.W.L.S. The studying finally took its toll on you that landed you in the hospital wing but Draco helps you end the night on a good note.
Warnings and Perks: being stressed, over studying, fainting ! and corniness
Words: 2K (sorry for any mistakes its 3 AM !!!!!)
A/N: omg i am currently working on some requests and on Healing Heart 4, but i’ve had this scenario stuck in my head all night bc i was listening to a slowed down version of stuff we did from UP and so i thought id share it with everyone since i havent posted in like 2 days <3 do not own gif but pretend that you and Dracoooo <3
It was the beginning of June, weeks away from O.W.L.S, which meant weeks away from another ending of a school year at Hogwarts. What bothered you the most wasn’t the fact that you had homework piled up to the ceilings, or that Snape has been snapping at you all week and took away 5 house points from you, or that you were drowning in a sea of textbooks and notes that you kept studying for your upcoming exams; it was the fact that you had barely seen Draco in nearly two weeks. You were so busy with schoolwork and focused on getting outstanding marks, you hadn’t even realized you were neglecting your own boyfriend.
Of course, the two of you would find each other in the Great Hall during breakfast and you’d give him a quick hello and goodbye kiss faster than he could even register what was happening and by the time he did, you were already out the door and rushing towards your first class. At this point, you were acting like the white rabbit from Alice in Wonderland, always frantic and in a rush. Your hair was wild and untamed, you had dark bags under your eyes from the all-nighters you were pulling, your robes and clothes underneath were in disarray and wrinkled.
To make it worse, you never let Draco study with you. He constantly asked and you always gave him the same answer.
“If I study with you, I’ll never get anything done.”
Which was true. He was very distracting with his quiet jokes in the library, or when he would look up at you with his sparkling gray eyes when you would try to ask him a question that just flew from your mind at the sight, or smile at you with a wide toothy grin that lit up the room when you got sidetracked and talked to him, or the way he rested his hand on your thigh when he would sit beside you while you quietly read or wrote but the only thing you could focus on was his fiery touch. Really, it wasn’t him who would distract you; it was you who distracted yourself with him. And that was evident when you tried to remember everything you’ve learned in the past school term and came up blank because for some reason your brain only retained information and memories that contained Draco throughout the past year.
So you figured a little time away from him wouldn’t hurt. Because if you didn’t pass these O.W.L.S, you felt like everyone would be disappointed in you, especially yourself. So you locked yourself away in your dorm and crammed and jam-packed your brain with information until you eventually passed out hunched over a book with drool blurring the ink on your pages. You avoided the library for studying, knowing Draco would go looking for you or Madam Pince would distract you halfway through your note taking to kick you out for the night.
Mornings always came the same, you waking up randomly over your desk a few minutes before breakfast and changing into a new pair of robes as quickly as you could while trying your best to smooth your hair down with your hands. This morning was different, however. You woke up to one of your roommates shaking you violently while she spoke your name loudly above you, but it sounded distant. You shot up in a hot flash, wiping your mouth of any saliva and groaning when you started to feel the pounding in your head that seemed to shake up your whole brain.
“Thank Merlin, you’re awake!” Your roommate exclaimed in relief. “You looked dead, honestly. But class is starting in twenty and you’ve missed breakfast.���
“Twenty?” you frown, letting your swelling head fall into your hands. “I don’t want to deal with Snape right now, I feel awful.”
“I’m going to try to say this as nice as possible,” she sighs, placing a hand on your shoulder, “but it shows.”
“Thanks,” you scowl. You try to get up from your chair but gasp in pain as your muscles cramp at the movement like a rickety old man.
“Maybe you should go to Madam Pomfrey,” she suggests, trying to help you up but you shoo her.
“No, I’m fine,” you rush to interject. “I will not be missing Potions, no.”
She gave you a shrug, backing away in defeat as she let you rush to change into new robes and attempt to brush down the matted mess that’s supposed to be your hair but gave up halfway through and threw it into an updo. The headache was not a good combination with the scalp pain from combing out knots. Your roommate waited for you with pitied eyes, following closely behind you as you hurried out of the room and towards the exit.
You sped walked out with her but didn’t see the mop of platinum blond that was waiting for you outside the entrance of the common room. You had zero awareness of his presence until his hand had reached out to hold onto your wrist, stopping your near sprint towards the class. Your roommate stopped too, eyeing the two of you and the look on the Slytherin’s face before she continued walking.
“What? Draco, let go,” you move away from him and he quickly drops your arm. “I’m going to be late.”
You began to walk away from him, but he stepped in front of you, stopping you again.
“Why weren’t you at breakfast?”
“I overslept,” you answered gruffly. “Now, move! If I’m late, Snape will have my head on a stick.”
“Y/N, you need to slow down,” he frowns, “all this studying and rushing around everywhere is going to land you in the hospital wing. You look sick already, I’m worried.”
“I’m not sick!” You huff, throwing your head back in irritation. “If you really cared about me, you’d let me go to class instead of insulting me.”
“I’m not insulting you. Am I so terrible to tell you that you look like you’re about to pass out any second?”
“Yes, you are terrible,” you sneer, the pounding in your head was getting stronger each passing second. “Instead of-”
Your train of thought was violently stopped in its angry tracks, you stumble back and begin blinking hard at the spots that quickly started to dot your vision. Your hand instinctively reached out towards Draco, which he grabbed and hurriedly darted forward towards you, gripping onto you before you could meet the ground, your vision going black and your consciousness out the door.
Draco felt himself begin to panic. He promptly began to feel guilty, feeling like it was his fault that you even fainted in the first place because of the argument he had accidentally started.
He gathered you up in his arms, one arm sliding under your knees and the other under your neck as he swiftly picked you up and began his frantic journey towards the hospital wing.
When he got you to Madam Pomfrey, she instructed him to set you down on one of the beds and kicked him out of the room while she started her treatment. His heart was beating so fast, he wanted nothing more than to stay by your side so he halfheartedly threatened her with his father and she ended up letting him stay with a deep sigh while he stood idly by your bed. When Madam Pomfrey was done, she left the two of you alone. Draco wasted no time in sitting at the foot of your bed, his hand finding its way into your cold one that laid limply beside you. He watched your sleeping figure with a relief as he noticed that whatever Pomfrey gave you had speedily began to affect you. Your skin no longer looked ghastly and dull, but healthy again and tinged with pink. The dark circles underneath your eyes had faded just a little bit, leaving only slight bags as you finally slept.
He waited maybe 12 hours for you to wake up. After missing his first class, he had decided to go to the rest of his classes as Madam Pomfrey swore to him up and down that you would not wake up any earlier. He begrudgingly obliged and skipped all his meals instead to spend his short free time with you. When his final class ended, he almost ran back to the hospital wing. He occupied the rest of his time with a book he had found thrown somewhere around the room. The book was long forgotten the second he felt your hand twitch and your body begin to stir, your tired e/c’s looking around the room in confusion before landing on him. He scooted himself closer to you, brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face as he looked at you with pure concern. It was the same look he had when he confronted you earlier and with that one look, you were able to recall everything that had happened before your collapse.
“I’m sorry I said you’re terrible,” you croak out sadly, your hand wrapping around his wrist and squeezing it gently.
“I’m sorry I made you faint,” he says. “How are you feeling?”
“That was my own fault,” you chortle, “but I feel really good. I know I fainted and all, but I feel much better with whatever Madam Pomfrey gave me.”
“I can tell,” he smiles, moving himself a little back as you sat up with a newfound strength. “She said you can leave when you wake up.”
“Good, now help me out of this bed.”
Draco took your hand and you hopped out of bed excitedly, turning towards him and giving him a tight hug that he returned twice as hard.
“If you’re not too tired, can I show you something?” He asks from above you, his arms still wrapped strongly around you.
“Yes, please,” you answer with a nod against his chest.
Draco steps away from you before taking your hand and walking the two of you out of the hospital wing and towards the stairs that led to the astronomy tower. When you reached the top, huffing, and puffing, he asked you again if you were okay to which you answered with an eager nod.
"Tonight is a blood moon,” he smiles, pointing up towards the very large orange and reddish moon in the starry night sky. It shone brightly but still gave off little light in its wake, the astronomy tower was almost dark, but you still managed to see the blond perfectly, he was watching you with a happy and loving glint in his eyes that you were able to notice. “I was planning on asking you to see it with me tonight, but we kind of ended up elsewhere.”
You threw yourself into his arms, your face buried deep in his robes and the heat radiating off his chest warmed you up in the comfiest way.
“You’re the best, Dray,” you mumble into the cloth of his robes, the clothing vibrating underneath you as he chuckled. You pulled away and gazed up at him, smiling when he placed a kiss on your forehead.
The two of you unknowingly began to sway back in forth in each other’s arms, his hands resting on your lower back while yours were looped loosely around the back of his neck.
“You scared me today,” he begins quietly, “and every day since you’ve started your studying.”
“I know,” you frown, “I’m sorry.”
“Promise me you’ll stop overworking yourself,” he says softly. “I know you’re scared you’ll fail, but I promise you won’t. You’re one of the smartest people I know and I know you’ll get outstanding marks on everything.”
“You think so?” you ask hopefully, your eyes trained on the burnt orange moon as you took in his words.
“I know so.”
A few more minutes of silence pass by, your head now leaning against his chest as the two of you still danced silently. And as if he read your mind, Draco began humming a soft and off-pitch rendition of Claire de Lune. You would laugh every time he forgot a note and would go silent for a moment before backtracking and humming it correctly.
You don’t know how long the two of you stayed up there dancing slowly in each other’s arms with Draco trying his best to hum the top classics of the classical’s, his lips finding yours every now and then to kiss you longingly and tenderly, but one thing was for sure; it was bliss.
Maybe distracting yourself with Draco wasn’t such a bad thing.
#draco malfoy#draco lucius malfoy#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy imagine#draco malfoy x you#draco malfoy x y/n#draco malfoy fanfiction#draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader#draco malfoy x ravenclaw!reader#draco malfoy x gryffindor#draco malfoy x slytherin#draco x reader#draco x y/n#draco x you#draco malfoy fluff#draco malfoy angst#draco malfoy blurb#draco malfoy drabble#harry potter writing#harry potter imagine#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter fandom#harry potter
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Fangirl pt. 2
Genre: Romance, Slow Burn, Idol A/U
Pairing: BTS OT7 x reader
Rating: PG
Summary: Y/N, being a huge fangirl, finally got her chance to work alongside her favorite idol group as a backup dancer. She gets to know each member personally and realizes that her feelings may be more than fangirl-idol attraction.
Word Count: 4K
Taglist: @nochujeonjk
PARTS: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | ... masterlist
“Hey there, early bird! I missed you!” As I was patting off the dust from my backside, my slight irritation was gone as my brother rushed to give me a big hug. We barely see each other nowadays, now that I live alone. We used to live together but he moved in with his girlfriend around three months ago. We used to be two peas in a pod, never leaving each other’s side. Best friends. I don’t hate that he moved out, though. I actually learned to be a lot more independent due to that, and I gained a new friend which was his girlfriend. She’s older than us by two years so I guess I gained an older sister through him. “Did you eat breakfast? Or maybe brunch?” he peeked at his watch as he continues to hug me.
“Only a roll of kimbap from the aunty across my building. I don’t want to eat a lot when I’m nervous.” I giggled as I release him from my arms.
He exclaimed with his mouth agape. “Right. You tend to vomit when you’re really nervous.” He pats my shoulder and escorted me up the steps and through the doors. “Don’t worry, they’ll love you. Those guys are really nice, but I can’t say anything about your new teammates since they’re new as well. Let’s just pray they treat you well.” He pats my head in adoration. We arrived at the front desk and I proceeded to ask for Mina. She gave me a visitor’s ID and my brother broke my conversation with her when she offered to give me directions, telling that he’ll escort me on the floor where I’m needed instead.
We exited the elevator and he directed me to a hallway with huge glass door at the end. We turned and maneuvered our way to another hallway with two huge frosted glass. He pushed the door and I could see the whole floor until the other end of the building, with rows of cubicles and people with eyes glued to their screens. A beautiful, cozy and conducive workplace. Some were huddling and discussing, and a few of them were chatting and exchanging laughs. Jiyong pulled my hand and we increased our pace. “I want you to meet my team.”
I was greeted by somewhat familiar faces as I recognize them from my last video call with my brother. Three men and two women were chatting around a circular table in a small room. Some of them got up from their seats as my brother entered the room with me following him behind.
“Wow. Now that we see you in person, you both really look alike. That’s amazing.” One female rushed to my brother’s side, pushed him against me, and gazed at our faces. I stared at my brother and he also stared back. We both chortle as we both felt amused with his workmates. We grew up used to people amazed with us looking so similar to each other, being identical twins. I spent a few moments with my brother’s workmates and they congratulated me as they discover that I’ll work for the same company along them. They gave lots of advices, tips and whatnots to make work life here easier. My brother proceeded to excuse both of us out the room, across the huge office space and back to the elevator.
“I know you don’t want to eat but let me at least get you coffee or something small to bite. I don’t think you had coffee yet, and we both know how you function without it.” I actually forgot to make coffee for myself back at home or even dropped by my favorite coffee shop along the way. I was too nervous to actually remember. “Relax sis.” He giggled as he rubbed his hands on my shoulder, pushing me inside the elevator.
He escorted me to the cafeteria in the lobby. He offered to pay and I obliged. I ordered a really huge cup of Iced Americano and he ordered his coffee and snack. I missed spending quality time like this with my brother, though brief. I glanced at my watch and it was already 9:40 am. I gulped down my coffee within 5 minutes, almost choking with how swift I finished it. I pushed his arm to alert him to hurry as he was supposed to escort me to where the meeting is.
I arrived just outside of the room. I was staring at the frosted glass with my hand frozen inches away from the doorknob. Upon opening, I was met with turning heads and stares from girls sitting around on the floor of the dance practice room. I guess they’re the newly hired female backup dancers. Great, they all know each other already. Maybe they all belong in a dance crew? Why am I nervous?
“Nice to meet you everyone.” I bowed as I slowly trot towards them. “Are you here for the meeting as well?” A few of them stood up quickly and bowed back.
A fellow dancer that I didn’t notice at the far right side of the room bowed as well. We all exchanged introductions as they offered me to sit with them. They all seem nice and friendly. Ages were asked and it turns out I’m the maknae out of all the 15 dancers here inside the room. I also discovered that half of us were part of the same street dance crew, five were former backup dancers of other idols and I’m the only sole dancer without a crew.
Two men came inside the dance room and talked to us for around 2 hours. I’m guessing they’re the dance directors. They informed us that even though they accepted us as a part of the dance team already, they’ll be asking us to participate at a live evaluation later today with freestyle dance. I looked around the room and I was more nervous than ever. I felt slightly intimidated by the presence of all these seasoned dancers. Deep down in my mind, I think I’m out of my league here. I got myself into a situation where I’m the least experienced out of everyone.
As the main choreographers continue to talk, I couldn’t hold in my pee. I really need to go to the restroom right now but I’m too shy to excuse myself out. “Why did I have to gulp down a huge cup of coffee just before this meeting? This is so not helping with my nerves.” To my luck, they concluded the meeting and excused themselves out of the room to leave all of us to prepare for the live evaluation. I bolted out of the room in search for a restroom. I faintly recalled a sight of a restroom just across the hallway. I ran past a practice room, blasting to Fake Love and a few chatters and laugh. I unconsciously hummed to the song in my head, closing my eyes for a moment as I ran to the restroom.
I opened my eyes and didn’t grasp the second I bumped into someone in front of the restroom signs dividing the female and male rooms. My backside embraced the floor once more.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t see…” To my luck, the person I bumped into was…
“Yoongi hyung. Should we...?” Jimin quickly came out from the male restroom just behind Yoongi, whom I’ve bumped into. Yoongi was looking at me, examining my face and slowly recollecting the memory from this morning.
“You again? I thought I told you to watch where you’re going.” He just stood there as I rub my backside. He was about to bend down and reach his hand out but Jimin quickly offered to lift me up. I gladly obliged but shit, my butt really hurts. I forced a smile as I tried to hide my winces from the pain.
“Are you okay?” Jimin asked, hands still on my forearm and looking at my face. I felt bashful from his gesture. I realized that a BTS member just helped me up. His skin is so smooth that it looked like ceramic, and such adorable cheeks that I just want to pinch.
“Thank you so much.” I bowed as I respectfully removed my hand from Jimin. I could still feel Yoongi staring while my head was down.
“Are you… an employee here?” Yoongi asked with a tone different from how he spoke to me this morning just outside the building. I stood up straight and saw Jimin with a bright smile, also waiting for my response. He placed his arm on Yoongi’s shoulder.
“I’m new here, just today actually.” My eyes were glued to both of them, realizing that I was in front of two BTS members. An opportunity beyond my wildest dreams. I’m actually conversing with them and not just me talking into thin air to their posters and cut-outs. “Backup dancer.” Jimin’s face lit up with a grin split across his face.
“I didn’t know the evaluation will be today.” Jimin removed his arm from Yoongi and bowed down. “Looking forward to working with you.” I was surprised with Jimin’s enthusiasm. I bowed back a second after him. Standing up straight, I looked at Yoongi. He looked like he wants to say something, with his mouth slightly open.
“It’s such an honor to meet you both but I’m sorry, I really need to use the restroom.” I excused myself quickly to the restroom. I rushed inside and closed the door.
Jimin placed his arm back on Yoongi’s shoulder and they both walked back to the practice room where the other members are. “Feels like I want to watch the evaluation. Do you want to join me?”
“I still have to finish up my demo in the studio. Why not ask Hobi?”
“That’s a good idea actually.” Jimin giggled at the excitement. There’s also a thought inside his mind why he felt slight familiarity when he saw your face. He doesn’t recall where he saw you or if you have worked together before. He let the thought occupy him for a few moments before pushing it aside as he goes inside the practice room.
“Hey Jimin, look at this!” Taehyung beckoned Jimin to see the video playing on his mobile. J-hope was reaching for a cup of water from the dispenser at the side of the room while chatting with RM, who was trying to catch his breath. Jin and Jungkook were going through some of the steps in front of the mirror.
“Hobi-hyung. Today’s the evaluation for the new female backup dancers.” Jimin called as he was walking to Taehyung. Hobi was alerted to Jimin’s call. “Want to watch?”
“I’m sure our presence won’t help with the nerves of the dancers. Better to watch next time.” Hobi finished his cup of water and brushed his fingers through his hair as he discarded the cup. Jimin was intrigued once more by the thought of the familiarity from your face. He couldn’t put his finger where he saw you. He was sure that he must have at least saw your face once or twice.
“Hey, look at this.” Taehyung pouted and pulled on Jimin’s shirt to ask him to join him on the floor. Jimin followed.
…..
While I was waiting for my turn for the evaluation, my encounter with Jimin and Yoongi kept repeating in my mind. I get to meet BTS members twice in one day. Too bad that it both started with me slumped on the floor. Jimin’s ethereal blonde hair with his adorable grin and Yoongi with his cool demeanor. I never thought I’ll get to meet them on my first day here.
“Next, Y/N” Interrupting my daydream, I heard the female dance director call my name. I stood off the floor and walked to the middle of the room, facing the dance directors. The other dancers, who finished their evaluations, were silently cheering for me at the back. “We’ll let you dance to a hip-hop piece and an additional dance piece afterwards.” I curled my hand at my side and waited for the song to start. I could feel the stares of the dance directors, anticipating me to start as well.
The first beat started to blast across the room and I felt a smirk plastered across my face. I’m sure the dance directors saw it as well. I recognized the song and let the beat take over my body. I could feel my hair whipping around as I pop my body to each beat. I recall the times when I would enjoy dancing to random songs late at night with my fellow dance teachers at the dance studio. Dancing like this, I really felt like I’m in my own world. With every slow beat, I could feel my body rolling and with every strong beat, I let myself pop.
The song lasted a minute before the dance director asked to stop it. The other dancers were clapping their hands so loud that I was broken from my euphoria from dancing. I could feel that my cheeks were burning from their enthusiasm. I went back to my shy posture with both hands at my side, trying my best to catch my breath. I could see smiles from the dance directors as they exchanged words and looked at my folder. My eyes roamed the room when something caught my attention. Someone was watching from the door, both arms across his chest and with a grin that felt like sunshine.
“Hoseok? Are you here to watch?” One of the dance directors noticed J-hope standing at the door. Semi-silent gasps were heard from the other dancers as they take in the presence of the BTS member. J-hope just smiled with his cheeks high up while he walks towards the dance directors’ table. Jimin popped in soon after, skipping towards J-hope.
“We just finished our practice. Jimin thought it would be nice to pop in. Is it okay to observe for a while?” Hoseok pulled out a chair for him and Jimin. They both sat down and looked ahead. I froze in place. I can’t feel my hands. My gaze went to the other female dancers and I could see that they were really trying hard to hide their amazement that Jimin and J-hope appeared before us. I looked back to J-hope and Jimin. Usually, I would scream and jump from where I’m standing. I would cheer their names and maybe even take out a banner, but not today. I am standing in front of them, waiting for my turn to dance to whatever song the dance directors chose next. I cannot control my nerves as of the moment. It’s taking over me, hindering all movements I thought of. I can’t feel my fingers. This is it, this is the end of this chance. I won’t be hired as a backup dancer if I can’t move and handle this pressure. I thought all of this nonstop.
“Y/N, you may start.” I heard the female dance director and it horrified me as I begin to hear the music. Looks like the music has already started for some time now. The faces of the other dancers were of worry and confusion. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. This is my only chance. I should redeem myself. As I absorb the music, I was met by familiarity and bliss. I had already performed this song as a modern dance piece when I was a student along with my fellow students in the dance department.
Slowly, I let the music take over my body from my core until the tips of my fingers. Like a graceful swan, I flew across the room. I slid on the floor and stood up with an elegant smooth body roll. Jumps that took no effort and landing so sophisticated that it almost didn’t make any sound. I was eager to get this job and I gave everything. The room felt blacked out with just myself in the middle of it, being in the bright spotlight. The moment the song stopped, reality swiftly hit me. I was back in the practice room being evaluated by dance directors, observed by two BTS members and cheered on by other enthusiastic and supportive dancers.
Being the shy duckling I am, I stood straight like a soldier with both hands at the side. All the dance directors were still staring at me and both J-hope and Jimin were nodding in approval. Despite my horrible start, I’m so glad I redeemed myself. I could explode right now from the amount of emotions flooding through me. Now that I’ve finished the evaluation, I found myself staring at the two BTS members. Jimin with his dark grey loose shirt, black FILA track pants, Balenciaga bag swung across his chest, and cool dangling earpieces. J-hope in a peach flowy long-sleeve top with a green vest, brown baseball cap loosely hanging on top his head and brown shorts that shows his toned legs. They were both conversing when I felt Jimin’s long stares directed at me. He looks slightly intrigued but nevertheless, stares from this man could kill. I felt flushed and let my eyes wander elsewhere.
“Thank you Y/N. Next please.” I bowed and rushed towards the back of the room, joining the other dancers. I was met by praises from the other dancers. My heart felt warm from all the affirmation the others were giving me but I was still bothered by the stares from Jimin. I looked at him once more and he’s still staring at me. He studied my face and smiled when he saw me getting shy from his stares. I turned my head away and looked in front towards the next dancer.
Both of them stayed for a while before excusing themselves out of the room. Some of the dancers were whispering that they’re sad that two of the boys are now not in our presence. I admit that I’m a bit sad too but I can finally breath and relax. Despite being so nervous with them present during my evaluation, I was elated that they were here inside the room as me. I’m lying if I say that my heart wasn’t pounding furiously. I’m just trying to be professional here but I’m still a big fangirl at heart.
…..
“Are you okay? You’ve been too occupied by your thoughts since a while ago.” Hoseok asked Jimin as he sips from his juice. Jungkook and Taehyung who were sitting across the two boys, eating their post-practice snack, were intrigued by J-hope’s question. They noticed Jimin was staring away with his brows furrowed.
“I really think that I saw that backup dancer somewhere but I can’t put my finger on it. Her face looks too familiar.” Jimin sipped his juice through a straw.
“Which backup dancer? The first one?” Hoseok studied Jimin’s face. Jimin nods. “I haven’t seen someone dance like that in a long time. Her passion just captivates you and pulls you in. I can’t wait to work with her and all the other dancers.” Hoseok beamed with hope as he recalls your evaluation performance.
“Also, the modern dance piece that she did felt familiar as well. I could actually feel my body dancing with her but I couldn’t remember where or when I danced to that song.” Jimin admitted.
“Did you watch the whole evaluation?” Jungkook asked the two. Taehyung kept on scrolling through his social media.
“We only watched a few but they were good.” Jimin replied, getting a smile from Hoseok.
“Yeah, especially the one you’re trying so hard to remember. You were staring at her, did you know that? It’s a shocker that she did not melt from your stares.” Jimin turned to Hoseok, surprised by his hyung’s revelation.
“Really? Oh no hyung, I’m too embarrassed by myself. I really didn’t know.” Jimin covered his face with both his hands.
“What made you embarrassed?” Yoongi comes up behind them with an Iced Americano cupped in his hands.
“You remember the girl that bumped into you when went to the restroom? Hobi-hyung and I saw her evaluation and I didn’t realize that I was staring at her the whole time. He just pointed this out to me now.” Jimin, still with a hand covering half his face. “Hobi-hyung, you should’ve told me to stop or something. That’s too embarrassing.”
Yoongi sat down on a vacant chair beside Taehyung. “Actually, I need to apologize to her as well.” The four boys turned their heads to Yoongi looking all confused. Taehyung was about to ask him for the reason but he was soon cut off by Jimin.
“Was it because she bumped into you outside the restroom? And you didn’t help her up?” Yoongi’s face became a bit darker, frowning.
“We already bumped into each other the first time this morning. I was so pissed off about something that I just ignored her and walked away. The second time was with you, Jimin.” Yoongi sipped his coffee once more, contemplating on his actions. He admits that despite being so pissed at something, he should’ve at least shown decency and helped you up. Now that he knows he’s probably going to see you around and work with you, he felt awkward thinking back on how disrespectful he was towards you.
“Wow. You’ve met this woman today and she’s already bumped into you twice, Suga-hyung. She also made Jimin-hyung bothered and Hobi-hyung eager to work with her after seeing her dance. Now I’m interested in meeting her.” Jungkook jokingly teased his elder members as he chows down his sandwich.
…..
After the evaluation, we were told that they will be contacting us again after a few days and if deemed unworthy by the other dance directors from their opinions on our evaluation, we will be informed if we passed or not. Apparently, our positions on the dance team is not final. I still have to wait for a few days to know my fate. All the dance directors walked out the room and all of the other dancers started packing up their stuff. Some of them walked up to me and praised me for my performance. They also teased me that they were afraid that I was so caught up with my nerves when the two BTS members walked in during my evaluation. They said that if it was them, they would be so nervous as well and commended me for still giving a wonderful performance despite my obvious stumble when the music started.
One by one, the dancers head home. I glanced at my watch and was surprised with how fast time flies. It’s already 4 in the afternoon. I phoned my brother to check on him.
“You done with work? We just finished and everyone went home. Can we eat out? I need some company, I feel so drained. My treat.” I stayed in front of the door out the practice room as I swiftly typed in my message.
Thinking back, I haven’t had the time to process what a whirlwind this day was. It started on a bad first meeting with Suga (which was definitely my fault), a surprise evaluation from the dance team, bumping into Suga again (still my fault. By the way, I really need to be careful from now on) and meeting Jimin in the most unappealing places ever, impressed the dance directors but absolutely botched the second dance when Jimin and J-hope came in to watch, and finally, I’m still not sure if I’ll get this job or not because I still have to wait for their mail. I’m so proud of myself that I’m still standing up straight. Thinking about it just makes my knees buckle. I can barely hold myself straight due to my nerves before when I try to dance in front of other people or even when I met BTS once at a fan meet. I should give myself a pat on the back. Yup, I deserve that for getting out of my comfort zone and not making myself look like an idiot in front of everyone.
“Your treat? I’m about to finish. Wait for me.” My brother replied. I laughed so hard. Bribing each other with food is truly our signature move. Not that I’m complaining but you can never say no to free food.
“Korean Barbeque it is.”
Next part: 3
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Circling the Drain
Summary: It's a race against time...wait, why do people say that? It's not a race against some outside force, it's a race against a crazed back-from-the-dead mafioso with a vengeance.
Word Count: 3454
A/N: I tried something a little different for this chapter in terms of formatting, mainly because there was so much I wanted to fit in different POVS. Uhhhhh let me know your thoughts and like, comments and reblogs make my world go round. ALSO that second gif is exactly how I imagine a certain scene (you'll know it when you read it).
Warnings: Very torture heavy chapter. Blood, torture methods, guns, knives, kidnappings, talk of death. You should probably go pet some puppies or kittens after you read this.
Previous chapters of Memento Mori: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11
Duncan
It’s difficult to know how much time has passed since Duncan was last outside of this small concrete room. There’s no windows to let light in, no clocks to denote the hour, and no sort of schedule that he can catch on to. Although, even if there were a schedule, he would be too delirious from sleep deprivation to realize that there was one. The only thing that Duncan can count on is the unending torture at the hands of his uncle.
All of the crisis training in the world wouldn’t have prepared him for the physical and mental torture that he’s been put through. Though he doesn’t know it, it’s been almost seventy-two hours of this absolute hell, of Bill beating him black and blue, taunting him, slowly ripping out fingernails one by one (somehow, he still has six, though one of the six is just barely hanging on), refusing to let him sleep, and tasing him back to consciousness whenever he tries to close his eyes. This most recent time, the throbbing of his head had begged him enough to where he finally closed his eyes, only to be jolted up with a rush of electricity running through his body and seizing his muscles.
“You still think you’re getting out of it that easy, huh? That you can fall asleep and bide your time until you’re ‘rescued?’” Bill chuckles. “No, it’s not that easy.”
“Just kill me already, if that’s what you’re planning on,” Duncan says through clenched teeth, glaring up at Bill through the one eye that’s not completely swollen shut.
“Is that what you want? You want me to kill you?” His obviously-fake concern would enough to make bile rise in Duncan’s throat, if he had actually had anything left in his stomach.
“You want me to beg for it, don’t you?”
“I guess I underestimated you. Turns out you do have some sort of critical thinking skills.”
Duncan defiantly turns his head, refusing to give Bill what he wants. Realizing this, Bill begins to walk towards the door. As he does, going to flick off the single light bulb in this place, Duncan’s chest tightens in anticipation of the claustrophobia he’ll surely begin to feel (most likely a side-effect of what he’s gone through, considering he’s never been scared of dark spaces before) and he scrambles to stall him. “So why are you keeping me alive?”
Bill stops for a moment before slowly turning around. “I already told you.”
“No, I know that you want revenge. But what’s your plan? Why waste your time? Surely you’ll at least give me the honor of knowing what I’m dying for?”
His jaw clenches, not pleased with that last question, but he doesn’t hit Duncan. Yet. “I’m taking back what’s mine, and then some.”
“And you think Mom’s going to be okay with that?”
“Your poor mother is going to be more than okay with that when she finds out that the Coven killed her only child.”
Slowly, it dawns on Duncan. “You’re the one that’s been killing people in the Coven’s style and leaving them in our territory?”
“Of course I am!” Bill holds his arms out as if to say ‘tah-dah!’ “Cordelia Goode would never be so bold as to do that! But after I kill you, drain you of your blood, cut your tongue out, dump you in the Potomac, and reappear into society, people won’t care about that little fact. Especially after I reveal that it was the Coven that prompted me to fake my own death and go into hiding for years.”
“How long were you planning this?”
“About a year before you stabbed me, when I realized that you were far too…” he grits his teeth, “charismatic to not end up with the family business eventually. That’s why I always made sure that the police and paramedics were well-paid, just in case the day ever came that I needed them to lie on my behalf.”
“You have it all planned then, so why not just do it and kill me now?”
“Well, there are a couple of minor issues I still need to work out.” Bill glances at Duncan slyly. “Such as what to do with that girlfriend of yours.”
In a flash, Duncan sees red. He lunges, forgetting the fact that he’s chained to the radiator and can only go so far until his ankle is jerked violently and he falls back to the ground. “You leave her alone, she’s done nothing wrong!”
“You’re right, she hasn’t, but (Y/N) knows too much.”
Duncan’s heart skips a beat when he realizes that Bill (predictably) knows more than he should.
“I’m thinking a suicide? It’s very believable, what with the grieving girlfriend and all.” Bill steps forward and, ever so slowly, places his foot on one of Duncan’s hands. “Maybe she slits her wrists in the bath? It’s very easy to overpower someone when they’re vulnerable. Or perhaps she overdoses? That’s not my preferred method, though, far too much room for someone to survive an overdose. Tell me, Duncan, how would you prefer that she die?” With each possible method, Bill continues to lay more pressure on Duncan’s hand until Duncan is moaning in pain.
“Don’t...hurt her,” Duncan pants.
Bill finally removes his foot, giving Duncan a moment to breathe before he stomps on his hand, digging the toe of his shoe in until Duncan is screaming and Bill is sure his hand is broken. “I think she’ll jump into the Potomac with a weight tied around her ankle. The poeticism--her drowning in the same river that your body will be found in--is something that’s just too good to pass up.”
“I’ll kill you. I swear to God, I’ll kill you again and make sure that it sticks this time.” Tears are streaming down Duncan’s face, though whether that’s from the physical or emotional agony he’s in, he can’t be sure.
“We’ll see about that, won’t we?” Bill smiles, walking to the light switch and flicking it off. “I’ll be back in a bit, and then our final act can finally begin.”
This time, Duncan doesn’t stop him before he leaves, barely letting the door close before his willpower crumbles and he begins to sob. Cradling his injured hand, he has to force himself to look at the now-mangled fingers. He gasps, attempting to straighten them out, but they refuse to even twitch in response. It’s now that Duncan realizes that the true torture is waiting. His mind and body shattered, he now has to be at the mercy of Bill Shepherd before he can finally die. He’s never wished for death before, but now, he feels a pang in his heart for every one of his victims that have had to wait, broken and bruised, for Duncan to kill them.
You
“Does this location have any significance to you?” Cordelia asks Annette, pointing to an address hastily written down on a scrap of paper. The address corresponds to a building, fairly nondescript, but obviously holding some sort of significance.
“No, it doesn’t.” Annette shakes her head.
“That’s because this is the location of the first school that I opened here in D.C. Bastard’s really going all in on trying to frame me for everything he’s done.”
(Y/N), who had previously been dozing off on Langdon’s lap (Langdon had already made her swear not to tell anybody or else he would kill her in her dreams like Freddy Kreuger), sits straight up at this moment. “What makes you think he’s there?” she asks.
“This car.” Cordelia pulls another paper out from the folder she had brought with her, this one a picture of a Mercedes E-Class. “It’s been back and forth from Umbra to the old school numerous times in the past two days. License plates are registered back to Umbra.”
“So it’s definitely Bill, then.”
“I’m not typically a betting woman, but I would put money on this. Surveillance indicates that this car has been parked in front of the Goode Academy for six straight hours now.”
(Y/N) doesn’t know much about hostage situations, but she has to assume that Bill being where Duncan is held captive for an extended amount of time means nothing good.
“We need to move now, then,” Annette says. There’s no question behind her voice; she’s going to get her son.
“Yes. Your team?”
“Myself, Langdon, and (Y/N).”
Cordelia glances warily at (Y/N). “Do you have combat experience?”
“Duncan trained me to fight, and also did some weapons training with me,” (Y/N) says.
“That’s good enough.” (Y/N) tries not to be offended. “I have myself, Madison, Misty, and Mallory.”
“We’re going?” Mallory, a brunette wearing a gold headband, says.
“I need my best girls, and you three have proven yourselves.”
“Alright then, let’s go.” Annette grabs a key from around her neck and unlocks what you thought to be a closet door, opening it to reveal a weapons cache large enough to rival a small government’s. “Stock up.”
“Which gun are you most comfortable with?” Langdon asks (Y/N), the two standing side-by-side after everybody else has had their turn.
“Uh, I don’t really know the names. It’s a handgun, and it’s black.”
“Probably a Springfield, then.” Langdon hands (Y/N) a gun that looks similar to ones that she’s handled before. “It’s already loaded.”
“Thanks.” She glances at Langdon after holstering her own weapon, watching as he selects numerous guns of different sizes. “What if we’re too late?”
“We won’t be.”
“But you heard what Cordelia said. Bill’s been there for six straight hours now. He could have--”
“You’re right, he could have,” Langdon interrupts. “But we can’t go in there assuming that the worst outcome has come true. We have to have hope. If nothing else, there’s always hope.”
“I have hope.”
“Good, because I do, too.” Langdon grabs a knife from the weapons closet, twirling the tip of the blade on his index finger. “Now let’s go get Duncan back.”
Duncan
Bill stands before Duncan, twirling the tip of a knife on his index finger. “I’ve held onto this for six years now. Do you recognize it?”
Of course Duncan recognizes the knife that he stabbed his uncle with. In his dreams, he can still feel the cool leather handle gripped tightly in his palm.
“It’s something of a treasure to me, although it certainly didn’t seem like it at first. I’ve come to recognize the significance of holding the thing that almost killed me, and I like to keep it as a reminder.” Bill holds the knife out to Duncan, knowing he’s too weak to fight him for it. “See that on the blade? Why don’t you read it for me?”
Cursive lettering is engraved on the blade, though it was not there when the knife had been in Duncan’s possession. “Memento mori,” Duncan mutters, trying to remember his Latin lessons from high school.
“It was an extremely popular phrase during the medieval period, specifically when it came to funerals. ‘Remember you must die.’ It’s a warning, a reminder. That’s what this knife has become to me, a reminder of the inevitability of death. It also reminds me that I’ve survived death before, and I’ll surely survive it again.”
“Quite the sense of humor,” Duncan remarks dryly.
Bill shrugs, bending down to Duncan’s level. “A little gauche, perhaps, but I enjoy the significance of the phrase.”
Duncan’s about to ask him what the point of this is when Bill shows him by shoving the knife into his abdomen. Duncan grunts in pain, gritting his teeth and glaring at him. “Of course you’re going to stab me just like I stabbed you.”
“Do you know how I managed to survive?” Bill asks.
“I’ve tried not to think about it much.”
“I survived,” Bill continues, “because you were too stupid to realize that you needed to pull the knife out. What do all of the medical professionals say when training civilians on dealing with stabbings? ‘Don’t remove the weapon.’ That’s the only thing keeping them from bleeding out, and it’s what kept me from bleeding out.”
“I had assumed I severed your abdominal aorta, what with all the blood.”
“Exactly, ‘assumed.’” Bill digs the knife around to watch the way that Duncan tries not to scream before pulling it out and watching as blood begins to pour out of the wound. For every beat of Duncan’s frantic heart, trying to pump blood to the source of the injury in an attempt to clot it, more blood pulses out. “Never assume things, my boy.”
Though his head is starting to spin, Duncan finds just enough rage to spit at Bill. “Go to hell.”
“From the looks of it, you’ll be there long before me,” he says almost gleefully before pulling out a gun and shooting him in the thigh. This time, Duncan openly screams. “Just wanted to make sure you actually die, if the stabbing wasn’t enough.” Bill’s extremely nonchalant, as if he’s discussing the nuances of the Nationals rather than talking about murder.
Bill grabs a key and unlocks the chain from around Duncan’s leg, knowing that he won’t have the strength to escape. “I’ll be back in half an hour to check on you.”
“Fuck you,” Duncan responds, but Bill’s already gone.
Duncan moans in pain as he stares at his wounds, feeling the stickiness of blood beginning to pool under him. Lifting a shaky hand, he presses it to his abdomen to try and slow the bleeding. As he swallows deeply, realizing that he very likely is going to die shortly, he thinks about a number of things, mainly regrets.
He wishes that he had realized earlier that his mom was just as much Bill’s victim as he was.
He wishes that he appreciated Michael more for the brother he had been to him.
He wishes that he had told (Y/N) that he loved her more often.
But most especially, Duncan wishes that he had just put a bullet in Bill’s head that night instead of stabbing him. Then, he wouldn’t be feeling this intense cold begin to settle in his bones as he’s forced to slowly die on the concrete floor of a basement. Facing the Grim Reaper head-on is not nearly as dramatic as he thought it would be.
You
Watching the Coven, Langdon, and Annette taking out the defectors is not nearly as dramatic as (Y/N) thought it would be. Wisely, they had requested that she stay behind until the perimeter was secured. It’s much quieter, and a lot less bloody; as it turns out, members of organized crime do have consciences, and chose to subdue those not directly a threat. After Langdon finishes tying those who had remained loyal to Bill together, Cordelia motions for (Y/N) to follow the group into the old school.
The proud sign that once declared this building the Goode Academy now lies in the dirt of the overgrown lawn. The doors are open, solely because the rusted hinges make it impossible for them to remain closed against a gentle breeze. The further that they make it inside, the more frantic (Y/N) is. She knows that they’re close to Duncan, she just doesn’t know what state they’ll find Duncan in. Before they can make it too far with Cordelia as their guide, Bill appears. Instead of holding a machine gun, which is kind of what (Y/N) had expected, he has a concerned look on his face.
“Annette, thank god you’re here! I know this must be confusing to you, but when I heard that Duncan was missing, I knew that I needed to save him from the bitches that had sent me into hiding years ago.”
Confusion blankets (Y/N)’s mind as she tries to figure out what’s going on, but Annette doesn’t feel the same. “Cut the shit, Bill. I know what you’ve been doing.”
Bill laughs. “You’re going to let Cordelia Goode manipulate you into believing her, after she tried to kill me?”
“You’re an idiot. You think I don’t smell the blood in the air?” Annette laughs viciously, a verbal slap in the face. “Where’s my son?”
Like a switch was flipped, the worry on Bill’s face falls into contempt. “You’ve always been too emotional for your own good, Annette.”
“‘Family over everything,’” Annette quotes. “Remember that? What happened to that?”
“That died the day that that--that mistake came back from boarding school and decided that our business, the empire we built from the ground up, was his birthright.”
“You never were good at sharing, were you?”
The siblings stare at each other for a moment before Bill sighs. “You could have just been complicit, but no. Guess I’ll have to think on the fly, then.” He pulls out a gun and cocks the hammer back.
Before he can fire, Madison and Mallory appear from behind him, having snuck into the back. Madison knocks the gun out of his hand, the weapon firing into the ceiling, as Mallory socks him in the face and drives him to his knees. Both women force his hands behind him, holding him still as Cordelia walks up to him.
“The door to the basement is in the kitchen, hidden behind the left wall of the pantry,” Cordelia says to the group.
(Y/N)’s off, moving as fast as she can while maneuvering through the unfamiliar house. “Wait, you can’t do this. Annette, you aren’t really going to let the Coven, of all people, do this to me?” Bill pleads.
“I can actually, and I will. After all,” Annette turns to Cordelia, “we have a deal.”
In the kitchen, (Y/N) throws open the pantry door, pushing and shoving and pulling at the left wall before it finally opens to reveal a set of stairs.
“Girls?” Annette calls just before she reaches the door. “Make it painful.”
(Y/N) runs down the stairs, hands scrambling along the wall until she comes across a light switch. Flicking it on, her eyes look around the room until she sees a lifeless figure on the floor that’s surrounded by a pool of blood. A cry is ripped from her chest as she falls to her knees beside Duncan, hands hovering above him as she tries to figure out what to do first.
He’s pale, scarily so, and he’s breathing so shallowly that she can’t tell he’s breathing at first. Somehow, with all the blood, he’s still breathing. All (Y/N) can focus on is the fact that he’s still alive (later, she’ll wonder how she didn’t even flinch at all of the injuries and the blood, oh, the blood) as she rips her shirt off and presses it firmly against the wound on his stomach, calling his name over and over again in increasing levels of desperation.
From behind her, she can hear Annette scream and yell for Langdon to call an ambulance. She can feel the presence of somebody next to her as they catalogue where Duncan’s hurt, but she can’t bring herself to look away from Duncan’s face. His perfect face, that she’s kissed over and over a thousand times and has taken immense pleasure in watching a blush rise to the surface. His perfect face that she’s now slapping to try and get him to at least show some sort of response.
“You don’t get to die like this,” she tells him, hoping that he’ll somehow manage to hear her. “You said that you didn’t want to be the reason I suffered, but look at you now, making me suffer. Don’t keep me suffering like this!”
Slowly, and just barely, his eyes crack open just enough that (Y/N) can see a hint of blue. His lips move, saying something without audible sound, and she brings her head down to his to try and catch what he’s saying.
“An angel.” She finally makes out what his reverent whisper is over the wail of the incoming ambulances, and laughs brokenly as her head falls onto his chest in relief.
//
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#duncan shepherd#duncan shepherd imagine#duncan shepherd x reader#michael langdon#ahs imagine#american horror story#american horror story apocalypse#hoc#hoc imagine#house of cards#house of cards imagine
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How Could I Hate Her?
Heather Series Part 7
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Bonus! Readers Card Confession Part 6
Summery: When checked on by the team, Reader confesses her guilt ridden feelings
Warnings: Mentions and descriptions of depressive episode, light swearing, mentions of medication, but other than that? Nothing that I can think of?
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Heather Carmichael, Spencer Reid x eventual Female!Reader
Words: 3.1k
A/N: Y’all.....it is almost 4:30 in the morning. I started writing this around 9 pm. I am committed and I have Criminal Minds to keep me company so its fine. Also, there is much needed fluff in this chapter. I also tried writing in 3rd person, because there were things I wanted to show that I wouldn’t have been able to if I didn’t. I hope you like it! I should have a bonus episode out later today at some point when I wake from the dead, so, enjoy!
~~~~~
It had been two weeks.
Two weeks since anyone on the team had seen or heard anything from y/n.
“I stopped by her place a couple days after, to try and talk to her. I couldn’t even tell if she was on the other side.” Derek remarked.
Aaron, Derek, JJ, Emily, David, and Penelope stood in her office, talking about y/n, and how worried they were.
They all just got back from a case.
Spencer had immediately gotten called away from work by Heather, who claimed it was an emergency. None of the others truly believed it was.
“As icky as it makes me feel, I can check to see if she is still in her apartment, I mean. If the place where she lives has cameras, I can easily check to see if she’s left.”
She looks to Hotch for permission.
He nods his head in approval.
“Has anyone else tried contacting her?”
“I’ve tried calling, but it goes straight to voicemail. She turned her phone off.” JJ chewed at her lip, her mind traveling to the worst possible scenario. A scenario she wouldn’t let happen. Not again.
“Poor kid. I can’t even imagine what she’s going through.” Rossi’s voice is soft, and he leans back against the wall, eyes not really connecting with anything.
“I know Spencer has tried calling her a couple times. But by the look on his face, I don’t think he got very far.” Prentiss paces back and forth, trying to keep herself busy so she doesn’t go kick down y/n’s door herself.
They all knew.
Derek couldn’t keep something like that to himself. And when he told the team, JJ stepped forward, and confessed that she knew. Spencer was in disbelief.
Y/n had come to JJ so often over the past couple of months, Will didn’t question it anymore. Y/n said watching Henry, and being around someone she doesn’t have to compete with helped.
She never really saw her smile like she used to, but JJ did see her relax, let her walls down. She thought y/n was getting somewhere. She was wrong. Some profiler she was.
“You should have seen her guys.” Derek had been the one to see her shut down before his eyes.
“She was shaking. She couldn’t stop crying, shaking. She was mortified that he had heard her. And then she just, stopped. She stopped shaking. The broken look on her face completely vanished. She didn’t say a word to me when she left. It was like she turned herself off.”
“Confessing your love for someone who then tells you they don’t love you the same can do that to a person.” Penelope says, typing away at her screens.
“No, it’s so much more than that.” JJ says, taking a seat in one of Garcias spinning chairs. “ Every time she would say something even remotely mean about Heather, or Spencer, she would shake her head, look up and smile. She shoves it down because she doesn’t want to be bothersome. That kind of burial of feelings can only end in an extreme.” JJ thinks back to every night, every tear shed at her house. How y/n would wipe her tears, shake her head and force a smile.
“I’m in.” Garcia chirps up from her desk, pulling up video footage of a hallway.
They all circle around, prying eyes eager to look inside the private life of their family, who is in desperate need of assistance.
“So, here she is, the day she left, about an hour after leaving the building.”
They watch the video as she walks down her to her door, tears streaming down her face. She takes her keys out, but before unlocking her door, she leans her forehead against the wood.
Her shoulders shake.
A collective sigh leaves all of them.
“And here I am fast forwarding a couple days.” People walk up and down the hallway, yet her door stays still. Until it opens. She taps a key and the video returns to normal, and a forlorn y/n exists, now clad in sweatpants and a cal tech sweatshirt.
“That’s Spencer’s sweatshirt.” JJ whispers, pinching the bridge of her nose.
Penelope fast forwards again, stopping it when y/n appears once again on the screen.
“Okay, she was gone for about, 2 hours and 43 minutes.”
Y/n is holding two bags, one in each hand, though neither of them are very full.
She disappears behind the door, and Penelope fast forwards again. Morgan can be seen a few times, but y/n doesn’t leave again.
“Oh my god. She left once, three days after and hasn’t been out since.” Penelope takes her glasses off, and wipes her face.
“Alright. We’re doing a wellness check. Y/n clearly needs some help right now, so help is what she is getting. Let’s go.”
The team all nodded, and off they went.
When they arrived, Hotch walked to the front desk, his badge already out. “I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner. We’re here to do a wellness check on y/n y/l/n in apartment 112.”
The front clerk doesn’t question it, simply grabbing a set of keys and leading them down the hallway to an elevator.
Each person is in their own head, but when they appear outside of her apartment, their focus changes. It was about y/n now.
“Y/n, are you in there? Baby girl, can you let us in?”
They stand and listen for a shuffling of feet or the sound of a chair, but nothing.
Radio static.
Hotch nods to the man, and he unlocks her door, allowing the team into her apartment.
It’s dark.
That’s the first thing Derek notices as he walks forward. The second is how cold it is.
The third is the glass breaking underneath his boot.
His eyes land on the pile of shards beneath him, and the move to the book laying on the floor, and the broken mirror which still stands on her wall.
He’s trying not to profile her, but it’s hard.
She didn’t even want to look at herself.
The team walks through her apartment, taking in the abandoned bowls of half eaten food, the empty liquor bottles and faint smell of cigarette smoke.
The path leads them to the living room, where y/n is curled up under a blanket on her couch beneath an open window.
Derek walks over and shuts it, his heart aching at the sight before him.
Y/n clutches a pillow to her chest, her grip tight. Unfinished chinese sits in front of her, beside an ashtray filled with buds.
An empty bottle of medication lays on the ground next to her, and he prays to a god he stopped believing in years ago.
She’s mumbling in her sleep, and the team gathers around, varying versions of wet eyes.
Derek is the one to kneel beside her, and place a hand on her shoulder. He’s relieved when he hears her mumbles, feels the warmth beneath his fingers.
“Baby girl. Baby girl, I need you to wake up.” He knows she’ll feel cornered. He knows it’s a lot to wake up to. But he knows she needs this.
She stirs and her eyes open, cloudy and grey. They flick up to him and then around the room, taking in the sight.
She wants to cry.
She begins to move herself in a sitting position, and Rossi can’t help but notice how thin she’s gotten the last couple weeks. She looks tiny compared to Derek. He just wants to hold her, and never let her go.
JJ notices her lips are chapped, and the dark circles under her eyes. She turns and heads towards the kitchen for a glass of water.
“What are you all doing here?” Her voice is hoarse. She hasn’t spoken in days, unless you count the incoherent sentences she sobs at three in the morning.
Aaron wishes he had stepped in sooner. Her hands shake as she moves to brush hair out of her face. She was his daughter, even if not by blood. He doesn’t know how he couldn’t have seen this.
Emily notices the dry wet spots on her t-shirt, and the pillow that now rests in her lap. She bites her lip to keep her own tears at bay.
“Don’t you have more important things to do?” The words are laced with guilt and self-hatred. How can she possibly take them from a case that could be 10 times more important than her?
Derek runs a hand over her head, wishing he could take her pain away in the blink of an eye.
JJ appears with a glass of water.
“You’re family, y/n. We take care of our family.” Penelope falls to her other side, and grabs y/n’s hand, clasping it in between her own.
JJ moves a couple things on her coffee table, sitting down and handing her the glass of water.
Y/n takes it with her free hand, taking a sip from it.
“Sweetheart, when did you run out of medication?” Derek's voice is soft, it almost breaks near the end, but he holds out.
She sniffs, rubbing the back of her hand under her nose. “A couple weeks ago. They’re filled, I just haven’t….I couldn’t…”
She hands the glass of water back to JJ. Her fingers start tapping her thigh.
“Talk to us, y/n. We’re not going anywhere.” JJ starts to cry, but she can’t help it. The situation in which her friend was in, was dark. It was deep. She’s been on the road to where she is for months, and JJ didn’t do anything.
Y/n thought for a moment. About lying, saying she was fine, that she was coming into the office the next day, that she was over it. But she was tired. Tired of running. Tired of lying.
“I love him.” Her voice is wet, flem and saliva coating each word as it leaves her mouth. The sentence isn’t louder than a whisper.
She clears her throat, and grabs the glass back from JJ, taking a longer gulp.
Her head hurt.
No one speaks.
No one moves.
“I love him.” The tears flowing down her cheeks are different from the ones she’s shed the past couple months. They’re warmer, more full. It relieves the stinging behind her eyes a bit.
“I love him, and I can’t help but tell myself over and over how much better she is than me.” She turns her palm over in between Garcia’s and clutches it with every fiber of her being. “Every bad thing I’ve ever thought about myself is ringing through my ears, in her voice.” She chokes on her sobs, and the room is filled with the months of feelings building in her chest.
“I hate her.” The words fall from her tongue and her chest falls. A weight has been lifted.
“I hate her, and I hate that I hate her. Why should I? She’s pretty, she’s accomplished, she makes him happy.” She looks up at Derek, eye’s pleading. “She is everything, and has everything that I can never have or be. And it kills me.”
JJ takes the glass before it slips from her hands, and sets it down, mirroring Penelope and clutching y/n’s hand between hers.
Y/n leans into Derek, and he wraps his arms around her, pulling her in for a tight embrace, resting his chin on her head.
She cries and cries, and finally after months, she breathes. Her tears stop and she lets the oxygen fill her lungs and she breathes.
For a moment, sniffles throughout the room are all that can be heard. And then Aaron speaks.
“Morgan, I think you should take y/n to go get her meds. A little sunlight and some time out of the house will do her some good.”
She retracts herself from Derek, a slight pink returning to her cheeks. She nods.
“And when you get back, I’ll help you shower.” JJ whispers rubbing her thumb over the back of her hand.
Another nod.
Penelope and JJ let go of her, and she stands.
Penelope notices that she’s wearing the same sweatshirt from the video.
Derek stands with her, one hand on the small of her back, the others holding hers protectively.
“Where are your shoes sweetheart? I don’t want you cutting yourself on the glass.”
“They’re in the kitchen somewhere. I kicked them off and didn’t notice where they landed.”
“Okay. We’ll just be careful, okay?”
Another nod.
The team moves as she does, not crowding her, but never being too far away.
Derek helps her get her shoes and coat on, and leads her out the door.
Once the door shuts, Hotch turns to the others. “Alright. JJ, Emily, start in her bedroom and bathroom. Laundry, bedding, the whole nine yards. Garcia, start in here. I would suggest going through her laptop to see if there's anything we should know about. I know you don’t like it, but in order to make sure she’s safe, we have to.”
The three women nod, and Penelope is already grabbing the laptop that lay at the end of the couch.
“I’ll work on cleaning the kitchen, and David,” He turns to Rossi, already rolling up his sleeves. “I’m sure she doesn’t have much food on hand, and she could probably use a home cooked meal.”
“Say no more. I’m on it.”
~~~~~
The car ride to the pharmacy was quiet.
I can’t say it wasn’t nice to get out of the house. I missed the light.
It was early February, so pink and red hearts decorated the storefront in preparation.
I hated the thought of valentines day during all of this. The thought of what he would be doing for her drove me insane.
It still makes my heart ache.
“What’s going on inside that pretty little head of yours, baby girl?”
I shift my focus, turning back to the driver's seat where Derek sat.
“Just thinking about how much I hate valentines day. It’s over commercialized and the guy who named it named it after himself, selfish prick.”
I see Derek chuckle. “That you are right about.”
I let a small smile slide across my face, and for once it’s not forced. I know not everything will be better right away. I know it’s gonna take time. But still.
It feels nice knowing I’m not alone.
We arrive, and he parks.
We sit for a minute in the silence, and his hand reaches over and takes mine in his grasp.
“I want you to know, that you are a million times better than Heather could ever wish to be. And any dude who doesn’t see that isn’t as smart as he appears.”
He turns his body, so he’s fully facing me. “If you ever feel like this again, I want you to call me right away. Even if that voice inside your head is telling you it’s nothing, call me anyway. You’re not alone, y/n. And I will do anything and everything it takes to make you see that.”
I squeeze his hand, and nod. “I promise, Derek.”
“Good. Now let's go get you your medication.”
I nod, letting go of his hand, and releasing the seat belt, and climbing out of the car.
The pharmacist greeted me with my name and a smile, handing me the white paper bag that held a refill that was long overdue.
Before leaving, my eyes caught something inside a soda cooler at the front.
Derek stops and follows my eye. “What is it, love bug?”
I point to a purple bottle. “When I was a kid, and I had a bad day at school, or life just got to be too much, my mom and I would go to the movies, and watch the most cringy, bad looking movie they were showing. We would sit in the back and eat our weight in popcorn while making fun of everything. And she would always get a large grape fanta for us to share.”
He smiles, and steps forward, opening the door, and grabbing a bottle. “I think this constitutes a grape fanta than.”
It’s getting easier to smile at him.
He buys it, and we head back out to the car.
We sit, and he waits until the pill is down my throat, followed by fizzy grape soda. It's tart and sweet at the same time, and I lick my lips of the stickiness.
The music is a little louder on the drive back.
When we enter the door, the first thing I notice is the smell. It smells like Italian, and the best Italian at that.
I walk into the kitchen and I see Rossi, towel over his shoulder and wooden spoon in his hand.
He smiles when he sees me. “Ah, principessa, come. Taste. I know pesto cavatappi is a favorite of yours.”
He ushers me forward, holding out the spoon with a bit of sauce on the end.
I lean forward, capturing the end with my tongue.
“Mmm.” I lick my lips, and chuckle a bit. “It’s really good.”
He smiles, setting the spoon down. “Good.” He wraps his arms around me, and pulls me into his embrace. He kisses the top of my head. “I love you, kiddo. Don’t you ever forget that.”
I smile into his chest. “I won’t.”
“Good. Now go get cleaned up. Dinner is almost ready.”
I nod, setting my soda down on the counter, and walking through my apartment.
It doesn’t even look like mine. It’s lighter and clean, and every shadow that played tricks on my mind are no longer there.
I look around at the apartment, taking note of how much was done in the time I was gone.
The broken mirror no longer hangs on the wall, mocking me. My couch is back to its original position against the wall, and my windows are closed, the curtains open, letting all the natural afternoon light in.
My laptop is set up and a playlist of feel good songs is playing softly through its speakers.
I can’t help myself.
I start to cry, and I clamp a hand over my mouth, looking around at the room.
How could I have not seen this?
“Oh no, you’re crying. What is it? Can I fix it? What can I do? Tell me what I can do?” Penelope rushes over, her hands running over my arm.
JJ, Emily, and Hotch enter at her exclamation. JJ is holding a fresh set of clothes for me.
“They’re good tears, Pen, they’re good.”
The feeling in my chest is warm.
They move around me, hands coming to gently grasp at me.
“I just forgot that I have a family. I don’t know how but I did.”
Aaron smiles at me.
“And man does it feel good to be reminded.”
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#spencer reid#spencer reid series#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x female!reader#spencer reid angst#criminal minds#criminal minds self insert#criminal minds series#cm series#cm#heather#conan gray#song fic
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Hypnosis is Bullshit
(A gay Hypnosis Story)
“Alright Campers!” Chris shouts to the contestants in the cafeteria “It’s time for your next challenge!”
“What now?” Duncan asks annoyed.
“Aw what? Do you not enjoy my challenge?” Chris says sadly
“No” All of the contestants say simultaneously
“Rude...” Chris says, faking being offended. “Well it doesn’t matter cause you’re doing it anyways! Meet me out by the cabins! No not your housing arrangements, the OTHER cabins.”
Chris then proceeds to disappear.
The Campers leave their cafeteria, but then Duncan and Trent get into a little scuffle outside the doors.
“Don’t fucking push me dude” Trent snapped
“Well if your slow ass wasn’t taking up the entire doorway I wouldn’t have needed to” Duncan responds
“Bastard, you wanna fight me?” Trent threatens
“Try me bitch” Duncan challenges“
Oh my god, break it up you two.” Heather sighs
“You stay out of this you black haired dog eater” Duncan sneers
“AIGHT BITCH YOU WANNA GO?!” Heather says threatening Duncan as Lindsay holds her back.
“Ha, you’re so easy to get a reaction out of” He laughs
“Ugh! I really wish someone would knock you down a peg you brat!” Heather shouts
“Duncan I really think you should back off” Gwen suggests
“Aw come on you know you love it baby”“Ew...” Gwen says backing off.
“Y’all gonna head over to the Cabins, or Am I gonna have to drag your clown asses over there?” Leshawna asks
“Tch, fine” Duncan reluctantly lets up
(Nobody messes with Leshawna)
The campers settles their conflict and head out to the old cabins in the wood. 6 of them have spirals painted on them.
“This challenge is a 1 on 1 hypnosis challenge, each of one of the former screaming gophers will compete with one of the former Killer Bass to hypnotize each other in one hour. Whoever succeeds will be allowed to do whatever they want with the other, whoever does the most embarrassing thing to the other when the timer is up wins, the judge will as always be me.” Chris explains
“As stupid as this challenge is, there is a slight problem Chris” Duncan calls out
“And that is?” Chris asks
“Hypnosis ain’t real you fucking moron.” He shouts
“Yes it is!” Izzy shouts “Ive seen plenty of government facilities use Hypnosis on Politicians to get them favorably on one side of the Spectrum or on enemy soldier to reveal critical information! But I’m completely resistant to it cause I was born colorblind!” Izzy rants
“And we’re supposed to believe the crazy lady why?” Duncan asks
Izzy growls
“Anyways here are your teams”
“Leshawna and Eva, you’ll go to the first cabin”
“Ha good luck, I have an Iron Will” Eva notes
“Team 2 will be Heather and Bridgette”
“Yeah no, I’m not letting this bitch control me. You’re going down Heather” Bridgette threatens
“Team 3 is Lindsay and Izzy”
“This will go down well...” Duncan mutters sarcastically
“Team 4 is Geoff and Gwen”
“Aight little lady! We got this!” Geoff cheers
“I don’t think you understand this challenge” Gwen says
“Team 5 is Owen and DJ”
“Oh fuck no” Trent and Duncan say simultaneously
“And Team 6 will be Duncan and Trent! Ha ha ha” Chris laughs
“Fuck you and your idiot ass McLain” Duncan says flipping the bird at McLain before waking inside the cabin.
“I could have had it worse...” Trent suggests trying to keep it positive.
The two of them wander inside the cabin and did the room lined with various Hypnosis tools.
Duncan just sighs“God this shit it stupid... I mean look at this” He picks up a ray gun “Hypno Gun? My gif what do they think we are? 5? I’m so done with this. Let’s just wait the hour out I don’t even care if we lose”
“Whatever...” Trent sighs.
Duncan sits down on one of the coaches while Trent wanders around the room.
After a bit of searching however, Trent notices a small tape sitting in the corner of the room, he picks it up and the Tape Reads ‘Easy White Noise Hypnosis’. Trent, wanting a bit of laugh but also not caring, removes the label and replaces it with a label he had on one of his other tapes titled ‘Heavy Punk Rock Favorites’.
He then proceeds to sit next to Duncan
“Da fuck do you want?” Duncan snaps
“Well I decided since we’re going to be here a while, I thought you would like to listen to some music. I know you’re a punk rock fan, so I got some of my favorites.” He hands the tape to Duncan
“I mean you’re choice in Music probably sucks but whatever...” Duncan plugs in a pair of headphones into the tape and begins listening.
“Dude this is just white noise, what the fuck is this?” Duncan asks clearly confused
“It’s a start up noise, it’ll probably take a couple minutes to start up” Trent lied
Duncan relents and continues to sit there. After a few minutes, his expression begins to go slack and he sits there looking confused.
“Dude... This shit is making my head feel... funny...” Duncan slurs. He goes to take off the headphones.
“Up bup bup bup” Trent places his hands on his and keeps the headphones “Just keep going”
“But... I...”
“Ssshhh” Trent shush him. Duncan giggles a little before continuing on.
After a couple more minutes, Duncan is gone full slack. His eyes are crossed and drool is slowly dripping down the side of his mouth. Trent waves his hand in front of Duncan, he doesn’t even react. He just sits there.
Holy shit did it actually work? Trent thinks. He decides to test his theory.
“Duncan can you hear me?” Trent asks
“Yeah...” Duncan mumbles
“Are you willing to obey my commands?” He asks
“Sure” Duncan slurs
“Stand in front of me...” He orders
Duncan stands up and walks in front of Trent.
No way... Trent thinks This can’t be real. I guess the only way to know is if I make him do something so embarrassing that if he’s pranking me he’ll have to let up...
“Alright Duncan listen to me. When I snap my fingers, you will become a Sexy Gay stripper who’s here to strip for me. You love showing your bare ass for people and you’re super horny. Ok?”
Duncan just drools
Theres no way... Trent thinks
Trent snaps his fingers and Duncan wakes up and stares directly at Trent. He then placed Hands on either side of Trent
Yup he’s definitely going to kill me
“Why Hello there Sexy” Duncan purrs
OH MY GOD Trents Mind Screams
Duncan stands up and admired Trent “Damn when they sent me for this job, I didn’t expect my client to be so sexy.” He says seductively
“Thank you...” Trent says trying to hold in his laughter
“Anyways let’s get on with the show shall we?” Duncan says pulling off his shirt slowly.
Trent just stares in awe as Duncan slowly pulls off his clothes. First he tosses off his shirt and lets Trent feel his pecs. Then he pulls off his pants and gives Trent a lap dance. Finally when Trent thought it was going to end, Duncan leaned in by his ear“
Since you’re such a special client case, I’ll give you a bonus show.” He whispers seductively.
Duncan stands up and pulls off his underwear, bearing his ass for Trent to see. He throws the underwear off to the side and exposes himself directly in front of Trent.
“Like what you see?” Duncan says winking
Trent could feel himself getting hard.
Wait what?
Trent looked down to see himself indeed having a hard on at the site of Duncan
What the? I’m straight! What the heck is going on?
Duncan leans in quietly and sets himself on Trents lap“What do you say me and you find the bedroom, and take care of that little problem of yours” Duncan says pulling at the edge of Trents pants
“Alright that’s enough! Sleep!” Trent calls out
Duncan immediately falls limp, his body crashing into Trents chest. Trent realized how Tiny Duncan was especially without the clothes and laughed to himself a little.
Hmm what should I do with you now? Trent thinks.
He looks down at Duncan’s muscular form. And immediately comes up with a devilish plan.
“Alright Duncan… You can still hear me correct?” He asks
“Ye…” Duncan slurs.
“Alright, when I wake you up, you will think you are a professional wrestler. And I am your opponent. You will try and punch and dent but will not have enough strength to do so. Meanwhile when I even slightly tap you, you will feel excruciating pain. And the only way You can make it stop is by me surrendering. Understood?” Trent explains.
Duncan moans.
“Ok… Then go…” Trent snaps his fingers.
Duncan sits up instantly and stares directly at Trent. He smiles and growls.
“Look at you. Little Princess. You think you can beat me?” Duncan sneers.
Trent stands up. “Psh, you’re all talk…” He laughs.
“Oh yeah. Then let’s see how you like this?” Duncan aims a punch directly for Trents face, but when he touches his face, it’s no more than a slight touch. Duncan backs up.
“You’re sturdy…” He mutters.
“Wanna try that again?” He asks
“Grr TAKE THIS!!!” Duncan runs up to him and grabs him around the arms. He attempts to lift Trent up, but fails miserably.
Trent just laughs and flicks Duncan’s nose. Duncan backs up and covers his nose in pain.
“Dude what the fuck?! How did you do that?” He says rubbing his nose.
“Just luck I guess.” Trent slaps Duncan’s back and he collapses to the ground writing in pain.
“OK DUDE I SURRENDER!! PLEASE JUST STOP!!!” Duncan screams.
Trent pulls Duncan’s legs over his shoulders and Duncan writhes in pain.
“Say it!” Trent snaps
“Say what?” Duncan whimpers.
“Say you’re a princess…” He tugs on his leg.
Duncan winces hard. “GAAAH! Fine! I’m a Princess! I’m a pretty little bitch princess.”
“Why couldn’t Mario find you?”
“I was in another castle! Obviously!”
“And what we’re you doing there?”
“Probably getting fucked by You.” He laughs.
Trent stands there silent for a moment as he drops Duncan lies on the ground writhing.
“I surrender.” He mumbles.
Duncan’s pain vanishes and he quietly gets up and turns to Trent.
“You ok dude?” He asks
“Why did you say I was getting fucked by you? Why the fuck would you say that?” He growls.
“Dude, I just think your hot. I’m not tryna make you mad. If anything, I think you’d make a great top!” Duncan laughs.
Trent just sighs. “Sleep…”
Duncan falls forward and collapses into Trents arms. Trent quietly sits him on the floor and sits next to him thinking.
Did he really mean that? Trent thinks
He looks over at Duncan, who’s drooling on the floor and looking spaces out. Trent quietly contemplates for a moment before realizing his final trick. The thing he would do for Chris’s competition.
“Alright Duncan, can you hear me?” Trent asks.
“Mm…” Duncan quietly mumbles.
“Great then here’s what we’re gonna do.”
(Time skip to the end of the competition ton)
“Aaaaaand Times Up!” Chris blows his air horn. “Let’s see what we got now!”
“Duncan was right! You’re bullshitting McLain!” Gwen snaps.
“None of that stuff worked! All of the tools were fake!” Leshawna explains.
“Yeah! And I should know! I know what Hypnosis stuff looks like!” Izzy shouts.
“Really? It was supposedly real when I bought it online.” Chris says nervously.
“Yeah well I can guarantee that not a single one of us completed the challenge.” Bridgette snaps
“Actually I did!” Trent raised his hand.
Everyone turns to look at him in surprise.
“You can’t be serious…” Heather says tiredly.
“I am! And I have proof!” Trent quietly walks down the steps, a small figure crouches down behind him.
“Is that…” Gwen attempts to peak around.
Trent calls the small figure. “Come on, don’t be shy…”
The figure crawls quietly to Trents feet and reveals itself to be Duncan, but he’s different. His usual green Mohawk, now he had his air in a sort of wild style, kind of slicked back, but with a bit of a tip. But that was the least of the Changes. He was completely naked except for a pair of black ears and a large black tail stuck into his ass. And he had a collar with a bone collared name tag on it saying “Damian” attached to a leash that Trent was holding.
“No way…” Izzy says shocked.
“His name is Damian now. He’s a cutie aint he?” He says scratching Damian behind the ears. Damian pants in happiness.
“This isn’t real…” Heather says laughing.
“It is. I Hypnoed him to be a good boy. I taught him a couple tricks while I had the time.” Trent explains.
He points to in front of him and Damian walks up and “stands” on all fours in front of Trent.
“Sit…”
Damian sits like a dog looking at Trent expectantly.
“Roll over.”
Damian lies down then rolls onto his back, then rolls back onto his stomach and sits up.
“Speak!”
Damian barks.
“Wag your tail!”
Damian sticks his butt up in the air, and begins wagging his fake tail. Damian looks at Trent happily.
“Good boy!”
Trent pulls a cookie out of his pocket and dangles it in front of Damian. Damian grabs it and begins munching on the cookie. Once he’s finished, Trent pulls out a large beef bone and hands it to Damian. Damian takes it in his mouth and quietly circles around Trent before lying at his feet and viciously chewing on the bone.
“This is insane!” Owen looks in shock.
“HES SO CUTE!!!” Lindsay squeals.
“Oh how the tables have turned…” Heather smirks.
Chris looks at Trent in shock. He regains his composure and smiles at Trent. “Well then! Congratulations, Trent! You have won immunity!” Chris announces.
“And Damian, he’s my dog, after all.” Trent reaches down and scratches Damian behind the ears again. Damian whines in happiness.
“Ugh… Fine! Damian gets Immunity too… You have to change him back by the end of the week though!” Chris adds.
“Yeah yeah…” Trent waves it off.
(One week later, after Eva is eliminated)
Trent walks up to Damian, who had been quietly sleeping under Trents bunk. He ques for Damian to come out and Damian shuffles out and quietly waits for Trents command.
“Alright welp its time for you to go back to normal…”
Damian frowns and cries at Trent.
“I know I know… But Chris said it’s the requirement…” Trent says petting Damian.
Reluctantly, Damian sits back in normal position.
“Goodbye for now Damian…”
Damian barks one more time and nuzzles into Trents hand.
“And sleep…”
Duncan’s eyes roll over and he returns to sleep mode.
“Alright Duncan, I want you to take all the memories of you as Damian and tuck them safely away. It’ll be there, but you can’t open it unless I ask you to. Ok?” Trent explains.
Duncan mumbles what sounded like a yes.
“And other than that, when I snap my fingers, you will wake up as your Normal self, with all the memories of what you did. Ok?” Trent asks
Duncan nods.
“Ok, and go.” Trent snaps his fingers.
Duncan’s eyes snap back to reality and he looks at Trent in disgust.
“The fuck is up with-“ He stops as his memories come in “OH FUCK YOU!!!” Duncan gets up and lightly shoved Trent. Trent laughs.
“Yup! I got you!” Trent says.
“Oh god! How the fuck did That work?” Duncan asks
“Honestly? I just kinda got lucky! But I wasn’t wasting a golden opportune moment like this!” Trent laughs.
“Tch, whatever.” Duncan crosses his arms. But shockingly his expression softens.
“Hey… about that Damian thing…” He mumbles.
“What about it?” I ask strangely.
“Do you think you could do it again sometime…” He asks quietly.
Trent looks at him surprised “You’re not serious?!” Trent says shocked.
“Yes I am. I kinda like being Damian. I know I act like a bad boy all the time but, to be Damian would be like having just… a lay off of that I guess…” Duncan mumbles.
Trent seems to think for a moment, before nodding and reaching his hand out towards Duncan. “Deal!”
Duncan grasps his hand and shakes it. “Thanks.”
Duncan begins quietly walking out when Trent stops him.
“Aren’t you gonna put on clothes?” Trent laughs.
Duncan looks back at him and smirks.
“Dogs don’t wear clothes”
(END)
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Honor Bound 5 - 13
Honor Bound 5 - 13 (Kidnapping) @badthingshappenbingo
Thank you to @ashintheairlikesnow for some of the ideas for this chapter... shared way back in July 2020.
~
This is a series. Start here, continued from here.
This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3, Honor Bound 4, and the prequel Vera.
AO3
Content warning: home invasion, brief implied non-sexual nudity, hanging and caning mention, intentional mis-naming, death threats, threat of dismemberment, forced to hurt a loved one
~
Gavin flinched awake to a hand clamped over his mouth. He blinked, casting his gaze around the dark room, feeling fuzzy and groggy and confused. Slowly, his eyes focused. His stomach lurched. A tall figure loomed over him, silhouetted by the nightlight. Gavin looked immediately to Isaac, and froze as terror struck him like a blow to the chest.
A man in dark clothing stood over Isaac, pointing a gun at Isaac’s head.
Gavin’s heart thundered in his chest as he realized Isaac was still sleeping soundly next to him, his eyes closed and his mouth open, breathing smoothly and slowly. Gavin looked back towards the man he could now see bending over him. He couldn’t quite make out the man’s face. The man held a finger to his lips and tilted his head at Isaac.
Gavin’s throat worked in a swallow, and he nodded desperately against the man’s hand. The man pulled his hand away from Gavin’s mouth. The other man kept the gun trained on Isaac.
The man standing at the side of Gavin’s bed held out what Gavin suddenly realized were his clothes. Gavin took them with shaking hands and slowly, carefully pulled on his pants under the blanket. He kept his eyes fixed on Isaac as he slid his arms into the sleeves of his t-shirt, praying that Isaac would stay asleep. He pulled the shirt on over his head and looked towards the man standing over him. The man beckoned towards the door with his head.
Tears sprung to Gavin’s eyes and he bit his lip as he looked back to Isaac. He felt as if freezing water had been dumped into his veins, and his hands shook so badly he could scarcely feel them. Still, as Gavin looked over at Isaac, he longed to kiss him, just to say goodbye before he was taken. Just to feel something good, before he disappeared into a car, or into a body bag.
Just to convince himself that, for a little while, Isaac had been his.
Gavin shoved down a sob as the man pointed at the door. He pushed himself out of bed, screaming silently in his own mind for Isaac to wake up and save him from being taken – and begging, just as loudly, just as silently, for Isaac to stay asleep. The first man roughly grabbed Gavin’s arm and pulled him towards the door, even as Gavin looked back at Isaac with tears running down his cheeks. The man with the gun kept his gun pointed at Isaac as he backed out of the room behind Gavin. Gavin caught one last glimpse of Isaac before the men shut the door behind him and pulled him towards the front door. Gavin could still smell Isaac, and he realized with a start that the man had given him Isaac’s shirt.
The men herded Gavin through the dark house. From the closet near the kitchen, Gavin could hear the soft hissing of the heater. He jumped as something brushed against his leg, cursing himself as he realized it was the cat, Nata. Nata meowed as he trotted beside Gavin, his reflective yellow eyes staring up at Gavin in the dark. Panicked, Gavin glanced around at the men, terrified that they would stop at the cat’s noise and turn back to kill Isaac. They both kept walking, one in front of Gavin, one behind.
When they reached the front door, the men paused to pull on their boots that they had left at the threshold. Gavin blinked as they opened the door and pushed him out into the moonlit night.
Gavin shivered in the chill as one man pulled his hands behind his back, and the other tightened a zip tie around his wrists. The cold, hard plastic of the restraint broke through Gavin’s panic for a moment as he cast about for why they would have waited to restrain him until he was outside.
The thought occurred to him a moment later: Isaac would have woken up at the sound of a zip tie tightening. One of the men pulled a cellphone out of his pocket and sent a quick text. The men began walking again, not pausing to let Gavin put on shoes of his own.
Gavin’s teeth chattered and his feet froze on the cold ground as the men turned to the west and began to walk him along the lane. Gavin thought he remembered the house being east of Burmingham, but he couldn’t be sure. The family had arrived at the house a month earlier in the dead of night, delirious with exhaustion. Underneath the constant, gripping cold and the sting of gravel beneath his feet, Gavin’s heart pounded in a frenzied, sickening thrum.
He glanced at both of the men. Their faces were lit by the full moon above them. Gavin didn’t recognize either of them. Neither of them spoke, just prodded Gavin forward. Their breath fogged in the cold air. Gavin’s tears cooled on his cheeks.
They could have been walking for ten minutes or an hour when Gavin thought he heard the sound of a car idling ahead. He turned his ear towards the sound and felt a deeper chill – definitely a car.
Everyone in the house would have woken up at the sound of a car coming in the middle of the night.
Gavin whimpered quietly and kept walking. His fingers felt numb.
The sound of the idling car grew louder until Gavin could hear it coming from just down a shallow embankment by the side of the road. One of the men tightened his hand on Gavin’s arm and dragged him to the side of the car. For a moment, Gavin wondered if perhaps his cousin Mark was in the car, here to drag Gavin back to the home he’d escaped.
The guard opened the door to the backseat. The overhead light switched on in the car, revealing another guard in the driver’s seat. Gavin’s heart sank in his chest. A pit opened inside him.
Daniel Schiester sat in the passenger seat.
I am not surviving this.
Gavin shivered at the mayor of Crayton’s cold blue eyes settling on him, and the colder smile that moved across the man’s face. Gavin flinched at the memory of the only time he’d ever met Schiester, where he’d had Gavin caned half to death and nearly hanged when he’d been discovered in the family’s midst. Schiester was the reason Gavin had had to remain under house arrest during the family’s time in Crayton; if Gavin was caught outside that house, and outside the family’s protection, their lives would be forfeit as well as Gavin’s.
That was before the family told Schiester that Gavin was dead.
Gavin’s throat worked, and more tears formed in his eyes. Please, please don’t kill them, too. It’s not their fault.
“Hello, Gavin Stormbeck,” Schiester said almost pleasantly.
Gavin licked his trembling lips. “My name is—” He doubled over with a cry as a fist smashed into his gut. One of the men holding him dragged him upright again. He gagged weakly in their grasp.
Schiester tilted his head. “Yes, Mx. Uriah mentioned you went by something else now.”
Gavin’s eyes widened and he gasped like he’d been dealt a second blow. “G-Gray—”
Schiester waved his hand dismissively. “No, they didn’t turn you in. They’d rather die, clearly, since that was the penalty I spelled out for harboring you.”
Gavin’s eyes streamed and he swallowed down the nausea roiling in his stomach. “P-please, don’t—”
Schiester held up his hand. “Quiet, Stormbeck,” he said lightly. “I won’t take their life tonight, nor the lives of anyone else in that family.” Schiester said the last word with a hint of an edge to his voice. “They serve their purpose, and are worth more to me alive than dead. They will, however,” Schiester said with a nod, “Almost certainly come after you once they discover you’re gone. At which point they will die.”
“N-no,” Gavin breathed. “Schiester, please…” The plea sounded broken to his own ears. Gavin shivered violently against the guards’ hands.
Schiester shrugged. “I’ll allow you to do your part in stopping them.” He nodded at the guards still standing outside the car with Gavin. “Get him inside, please.”
The two guards shoved Gavin forward and he fell roughly into the backseat, sobbing weakly. “P-please,” he rasped, staring pleadingly at Schiester. “Schiester, please, please, don’t kill them, don’t k-kill…” He shuddered and pressed his lips together against the pain tearing through his chest. “It’s not their fault, please, please, please, please, no…”
Schiester watched Gavin evenly. “You care about them?” he said with a voice devoid of emotion.
Gavin nodded desperately. “Y-yes,” he gasped. “Please… Th-they shouldn’t d-die because, because of me, please…”
Schiester’s cold gaze moved over Gavin as he cried. “You understand that I am allowing you the chance to prevent them from coming after you. And that once you do this, I will take you to Crayton to be punished for your crimes. You’ve already been tried and convicted by private tribunal, of course.”
Gavin shivered and met Schiester’s eyes. “Please don’t kill them,” he whispered.
Schiester continued as if Gavin hadn’t said anything. “And you realize that, once you have suffered what I deem appropriate for your crimes, you will be put to death.”
Gavin swallowed hard. “But you won’t… you won’t hurt my… the family?”
Schiester’s gaze pierced through Gavin. He held Gavin’s gaze for a long moment. “No,” he said finally. “If you do your job and those people don’t come after you, they’ll have nothing more to fear from me.”
Gavin tasted his own tears on his lips. “Wh-what do you want me to do?” he breathed.
Schiester gestured at Gavin with his chin. “Liefeste,” he said flatly.
One of the guards still standing outside the car leaned in and pulled Gavin towards him. He drew a knife from his belt and cut the zip tie tying Gavin’s hands behind his back. Gavin rubbed at the chafed skin, staring at Schiester with hopeful terror.
Gavin flinched as Schiester reached into his coat pocket. Schiester withdrew his hand – but he was holding a piece of paper, not a gun. He set the paper on the center console and reached back into his pocket for a fountain pen that he laid across the paper.
Gavin’s throat ached as he swallowed. “What do you want me to—”
“You are going to write a letter,” Schiester said evenly. “To Isaac Moore, whom I can only assume is your lover based upon where you were found.” Schiester glanced at the guard who sent the text. “I refuse to speculate on the nature of that relationship. And I cannot pretend to know what makes the others tolerate your presence.” Schiester shrugged. “You will write anything you need to write in order to convince Isaac Moore not to come for you. Assuming he can read, of course.”
Gavin blinked away his tears. “He can—”
“Then write it,” Schiester said with a wave of his hand. “If not, Isaac dies. I’ll have Liefeste bring you back something to remember him by. A lock of his hair, perhaps. Or a finger. You have three minutes.” Schiester glanced at his watch.
All the air rushed out of Gavin’s chest. His fingers shook as he picked up the fountain pen and clumsily unscrewed the lid. He leaned forward over the center console and rested his hand on the paper. His mind was a ragged mess of fear. I can’t tell him not to come. I can’t tell him it’s too dangerous. There’s nothing I can say that will make him understand that he can’t save me from this. Anything I say will just make him fight harder.
Cold bitterness gripped his chest. There was only one thing he could think to write that would shatter Isaac so badly he’d never go after Gavin – something that would make him hate Gavin until the end of time. He gripped the pen tighter and prayed his hand wouldn’t shake too badly.
Isaac,
I’m sorry I’m telling you this way, but I just couldn’t say it to your face. I’m leaving. I need to be honest with myself: I love you, but you can’t keep anyone safe.
Sorry things had to go this way, but I got what I wanted. Hope you understand and there are no hard feelings.
Take care,
Gavin
Gavin let the pen fall from numb fingers. His chest ached as he forced down a broken sob. Schiester snatched up the letter and read it once, his eyes scanning it quickly before he smiled slightly and folded it. He glanced at Gavin before handing it to the guard – Liefeste.
“Put that somewhere conspicuous,” Schiester said flatly. Liefeste took the letter and jogged back towards the house with a grunt.
Gavin dissolved into messy tears. He pressed his face into his hands and wailed as his heart shattered in his chest. His lungs felt like they were being torn from his body.
The other guard climbed into the backseat with him and closed the door. The overhead light turned off, plunging Gavin into darkness. He sobbed as the guard pulled his hands behind his back and tied them again. Gavin barely felt the bite of thin plastic into his skin over the tearing feeling in his chest and the agony in his mind.
“I-Isaac, no, Isaac, Isaac, Isaac…”
“What me to shut him up, sir?” the guard asked.
“No, let the child cry it out,” came Schiester’s cold reply.
“Isaac,” Gavin moaned. Isaac’s smell was all around him, wafting off the shirt Gavin wore as he rocked back and forth, his voice rising nearly to a scream in his anguish. “He, he’ll think… No!”
“It was expertly written, I’ll admit,” Schiester said. “Clearly your penchant for cruelty hasn’t left you.”
“Isaac, Isaac, Isaac,” Gavin sobbed. “Isaac, Isaac, Isaac, I didn’t… Isaac, please, no…”
“Take comfort in the fact that you’re saving his life, if that means anything to you,” Schiester said in the dark.
Gavin’s head swam as he gasped for air. “Isaac,” he whispered brokenly. “Isaac…” Tears burned his cheeks.
He jumped as the car door opened and the overhead light came on. Liefeste stood in the door and looked past his partner at Gavin with disdain before he closed the door again, jogged to the other side, and got in beside Gavin. Gavin sobbed as Liefeste closed the door and extinguished the overhead light again. The car lurched onto the road, and the driver drove in darkness for a while before he finally switched on the headlights. The car reached Burmingham and turned south.
Gavin’s sobs faded away to whimpers, which faded away to silence. Anguish and dull dread gave way to numbness as Schiester and his men drove with Gavin through the dark towards Crayton, the moon lighting the hills around them.
Continued here
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#honor bound 5#bad things happen bingo#kidnapping#my oc: Gavin#Gavin whump#it's happening!!!#home invasion#nudity tw#held at gunpoint#Nata the cat#restrained#hanging mention tw#caning#mis-naming tw#manhandling#begging#death threats tw#dismembering mention tw#forced to hurt someone#self-sacrifice#Isaac/Gavin
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