#I'd never believe myself if I told me 'Hey you are going to make walls of text for a made-up character with Big Anime Tiddies!' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

a-small-batch-of-dragons · 1 month

Text

The Question of Debt

Hi! I've read a few Merlin fics recently where Arthur finds out that Merlin hasn't been paid what he should, if at all, 'cause no-one ever trained him or told him anything about his job. I'd love to see your take on this if you want to write it? With lots of Merlin & knights friendship too. Thank yooou <3 – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none

Pairings: merthur

Word Count: 4232

Look, alright, Arthur does try to give Merlin the benefit of the doubt, but when he walks into his room to see him immediately stand up straight, hide something behind his back, and that something is jingling, what exactly is he supposed to do? Well, if Merlin is to be believed, state his business and leave Merlin to his. But when a pouch of coin leads to a confrontation that reaches far beyond their normal spats, Arthur starts to uncover something very troubling about Merlin's time in Camelot.

Well, if Merlin is to be believed, state his business and leave Merlin to his.

”Oh, and you’re King of Camelot now?”

“No.”

“Then what makes you think you can give me orders?”

”That wasn’t an order. It was a suggestion. One you asked for, by the way.”

“Merlin.”

Merlin just grins that stupid little grin that makes the tips of his ears stick out a bit more and Arthur is not being distracted by it, thank you very much. “Did you need something?”

“You’re late. Am I supposed to dress myself?”

”You’d be amazed what most young children are capable of, sire, most of them can actually dress themselves by the time they’re four or five.”

“Merlin!”

“Look, I’m just saying that it’s not a bother if we need to go over it again—“

Arthur picks up a pillow and smacks Merlin on the arm, which makes him laugh, yes, but more importantly it makes him let go of the coin purse he’s holding behind his back. It hits the floor with a clunk. They both look at it. Merlin scrabbles over the bed but Arthur’s faster and snatches it up.

“Hey! Give that back!”

He fends Merlin off with one hand, peeking inside. It’s hardly anything, really. “What is this, your tavern fund?”

“Give it back.”

”Is there something you’re saving up for? A pretty new tunic, perhaps, or one of those reck scarves you’re always wearing?”

“Arthur—“

“Or is this what you’re doing with—“

Whatever he was going to say is knocked out of him when Merlin slams into his side, hard enough to send him stumbling into the wall. His mouth opens in a wordless yell, righting himself and preparing to chew Merlin out because that could’ve hurt, you idiot, what were you thinking—

—and stops when he sees Merlin glaring at him.

Not the play-scowling they do when they’re bantering back and forth, but actually glowering at him like he’s made him angry. It’s enough to throw him off long enough for Merlin to shove the pouch into his pocket and storm past him, mumbling something about how they’re late for things already. He’s left there, staring at the painfully thin mattress with the moth-eaten blankets.

That was…strange.

He gives himself a shake. Merlin got like that about things sometimes, it’s probably not anything to worry about.

***

It’s definitely something to worry about.

Merlin’s never so much as breathed a word about what happened in his room that morning, which is concerning in and of itself. Merlin never hesitates to throw their previous arguments back in Arthur’s face if he thinks it’s deserved—and Arthur will be gracious and humble enough to say it is, most of the time—but he won’t even mention it. He doesn’t bring it up even if Arthur gives him the opportunity, he won’t even acknowledge what happened. And every time Arthur tries to talk about coin, or Merlin’s family, or anything that could be even remotely related, Merlin clams up faster than Gwaine when they say there’s no more ale left.

So, Arthur does what any concerned King would do, and snoops.

Gaius won’t say a word about it, and not in the way he normally does where he says he doesn’t know anything but secretly does. No, instead Gaius gets oddly stern with him. At least, as stern as he ever outwardly gets when he’s talking to Arthur. It’s that strange disappointed-not-quite-angry voice that just makes Arthur feel like he’s a boy again. He tries to sneak in there once when Merlin and Gaius are out collecting pots and nearly gets caught by a patrolling guard and decides that no, he won’t be doing that again.

It has nothing to do with the fact that Merlin and Gaius came back to a cauldron with some sort of potion in it spilled all across the floor. Absolutely not.

Then he goes to ask Gwen. Gwen and Merlin talk about things. Maybe Merlin has talked to Gwen about…whatever that pouch was. But Gwen looks at him with a frown and says that she doesn’t know.

“I’ve never seen him with a pouch like that before. Are you sure it was his? Not someone else’s?”

“He nearly tackled me into the wall over it, that doesn’t sound like something he’d do if it wasn’t his.”

Gwen snorts. “He what?”

“Didn’t work, obviously, he’s not strong enough.”

“Of course not, My King.”

Still, he can hear her snickering as he turns to go.

As a last resort, he turns to the knights.

“I don’t know what that could be,” Elyan says as they take care of their armor after a long day of training, “it’s not like Merlin’s known for hoarding great treasures, he’s not a dragon.”

“Maybe it’s just something of his he wants to keep secret?” Lancelot hangs the training sword back on the wall. “We can hardly begrudge a man his privacy.”

“It was just a small amount of coin. Barely more than a month’s pay.”

“Perhaps he’s sending it to his mother?”

‘“I’ve asked if it’s that, he didn’t answer.”

“Maybe he’s saving it.” They all turn to look at Gwaine. “What?”

”He’s been working here for years, and he’s saved not even a month’s pay?”

“Well, if he’s spending his days in the tavern,” Arthur grumbles and Gwaine laughs. “Are you the one encouraging him then?”

Gwaine laughs again, like Arthur’s made a joke, but when he sees Arthur’s expression, his face falls.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing.”

If Gwaine is hiding something, then this is far bigger than Arthur thought.

He does not follow Gwaine that night, because he is a King and kings do not spy on their knights, but if he happens to be outside Gaius’s chambers that evening when Gwaine and Merlin are also there, then that’s just a coincidence. A very lucky coincidence.

“Arthur told us something after training, you know,” he hears Gwaine say through the cracked door.

A thunk as Merlin sets down something heavy. “What, that he needs his armor polished until you can all see his face in it?”

“That he found you in your room with a pouch of coin.”

The room goes so silent that Arthur starts to fret they’ve vanished into thin air. He holds his breath.

“That’s all he said?”

He winces at how cold Merlin sounds.

“That and he thought you were spending all your money at the tavern.” Merlin laughs at that. It’s a humorless thing. “He doesn’t know, then?”

Know what?

”No,” Merlin says lowly, “he doesn’t. Did you—“

“No one told him,” Gwaine says firmly and Arthur moves as close to the door as he dares, “he thinks I’m the one dragging you there every day.”

Merlin’s sigh of relief is palpable. “Good. That’s alright, then.”

There’s another moment of silence. Then Gwaine shifts and his mail rasps against the table.

“Was it to send to your mother, then? That coin?”

Merlin huffs. “No. That’s all I’ve got.”

“All you’ve got? But Arthur said it was less than a month’s pay, how—“

“A month? What, for him, maybe. That’s all I’ve ever gotten.”

Arthur blinks. And blinks. And blinks again. That can’t be right.

Gwaine seems to agree. “You—aren’t you being paid more because you’re Princess’s manservant?”

“News to me if that’s true.”

Arthur’s heard enough. He moves quickly and quietly back through the halls, sitting down at his desk and folding his hands. The candle snaps and crackles as he stares unseeing into the shadows of his room.

Two things. First, Merlin is not being paid what he should be, clearly. He needs to go and have a word with the steward, find out exactly what Merlin is being paid, how often, and how much he is owed in lost wages.

Second, Merlin is hiding something. Something that at least Gwaine knows, if not the rest of the knights. And it has something to do with the fact that Merlin is not, in fact, at the tavern nearly as much as Arthur thinks he is, if at all.

Sleep comes fitfully that night.

***

”If you glare at that parchment anymore, sire, you’re liable to burn a hole through it.”

Arthur doesn’t care. He’ll set fire to this whole office if he damn well pleases. Especially this rude, blasphemous, audacious piece of paper.

“How did this happen,” he snarls with enough venom to make the steward and even Leon shuffle, “did we not increase all servants to a minimum payment after my coronation?”

“We did, sire.”

“Then explain this.”

“Merlin was not chosen by you initially,” the steward says, voice remarkably even as Arthur glares at him, “he was appointed by your late father.”

“So?”

“So,” Leon continues, “the King’s appointments exist outside the normal agreements for servants. They have their own terms and conditions, including modified pay rates.”

”Show me.”

The steward gets up and goes to a chest of drawers, opening one and rifling through it. He produces a single sheaf of paper and carries it back over to the desk, adjusting his glasses.

“Here, sire, if you would?”

Arthur does not snatch it, because he is a King and kings do not snatch, and the paper was certainly already torn when it found its way into his grip.

Not for the first time, he wishes his father were somewhere he could talk to him, so he could shout about the man’s hypocrisy for serving the people when he would give them a barely-livable wage and call it fair.

“What is a King’s manservant supposed to be paid?” The steward slides another sheet of paper towards him. “Good. Change it to that right now.”

“Right away, sire.”

“And give him what he should’ve been paid before.”

“How much?”

“As much as he’s owed,” Arthur growls.

“We would only be able to excuse that if we went back as far as your coronation, which would be—“

”Fine, fine. Whatever makes it so you give the man what he’s owed.”

The steward looks far too pleased to carry out the order, which just gives Arthur more motivation to shout at Uther, but he pushes that down because he is a King, now, and kings do not scream at people who do not deserve it, if they scream at all.

“Will there be anything else, sire?”

“Not at this time. Thank you.”

”My pleasure, sire, as always.”

Arthur nods and turns to leave, striding down the hall with Leon at his side. The man is as inscrutable as always, not offering any condemnation or encouragement as Arthur mutters to himself.

“Didn’t so much as say anything, idiot, barely a livable wage for someone in the poorest part of the city, honestly…”

Leon doesn’t say a word until they reach Arthur’s chambers. “If I might?”

“Please, old friend, come in.” Arthur all but collapses into a chair and buries his face in his hands. “I don’t—why didn’t he tell me?”

”Merlin is a private person. It’s likely he preferred not to discuss such things, especially with you.”

Arthur peeks out between his fingers. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Aside from the fact that you’re his employer, the two of you don’t exactly have the…typical relationship between a king and his servant.”

Arthur huffs. “Which is why I thought he’d tell me.”

“Perhaps.”

“I know that tone of voice, or perhaps what?”

“Or perhaps Merlin didn’t know that something was amiss.”

Now Arthur does sit up, frowning. “What do you mean?”

“As the steward said: you did not choose Merlin upon his original appointment. He saved your life and the then King had him assigned to you. He was not trained to be a servant, much less the Crown Prince’s manservant. I seem to remember many complaints when he was first starting?”

“But that’s—but he did get training.”

“Only after he began working for you, and only from other servants who were not experienced with being your servant. The exception to this would be Gwen, but—“

“But I’m not Morgana.”

“Quite.”

Arthur slumps against the back of his chair. The worst part is that it makes a disturbing amount of sense: Merlin fought against him on how he was treated, how Arthur treated most servants, but not about the coin. Because he knew that people deserved to be treated better than that, but he didn’t know anything about how servants were supposed to be paid. And how could he? He wasn’t a servant—he came from a relatively poor village, how could he know? And so when he was asked by the steward originally—and probably with Uther ushering the process along as quickly as possible, he hadn’t known that he could ask for a better wage.

“Damn,” he mutters. Leon hums. “Damn.”

“You have a council meeting in a few hours, sire. The new allocation of funds is likely to be discussed.”

“Wonderful.” Leon chuckles at his tone. “Will you be there?”

“Of course, sire.”

As he goes, Arthur moves to his desk and starts writing out some of the formalities that the steward will need to add to the record. It’s mindless enough work that he starts to wonder about that other half of things. His gaze finds the door where Leon had just vanished.

Did Leon know?

It was almost a certainty. If there was one person Arthur could rely on to know almost everything that happened in Camelot, it was Leon. Something about the man’s quiet nature made him the ideal confidant, not just for the upper echelons but the lower as well. He swears Leon could put together a list of everything he had ever been told in confidence and it would run the length of the city.

So Leon knew, most likely. And with that came the conclusion that Arthur would never, ever be able to get it out of him.

Gwaine was probably the easier bet, but Gwaine isn’t about to come to this council meeting.

With that in mind, he quickly finishes the paperwork and sets it aside before Merlin comes sweeping in to make sure he’s ready. They manage to get there early, for once, and take their places before the rest of the lords come in to talk about whatever it is the lords believe is worth discussing.

“And as the last thing,” the steward says as the meeting winds to a close, “is the budget allocation for this next period.”

“I expect everything is the same?”

“With the exception of the compensation fund we discussed earlier, yes, sire, all the same.”

Arthur nods and moves to close the meeting when one of the lords speaks up.

“Pardon the interruption, sire, but…what compensation fund?”

“It has come to my attention that someone in the castle has not been paid what they are due, and so we are compensating them for their lost wages.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Merlin look at him.

“But surely that is not a sum worthy of factoring into the crown’s budget, so…” The lord trails off as he catches sight of said sum over the steward’s shoulder. He stands up with a horrid screech. “Have you gone mad?”

“Your tongue, my lord,” Leon says lowly, stepping forward, “you will address your king with respect.”

“I’ll address him with respect when he’s not spending a mountain of coin on a single person!” The lord tries to snatch the paper but the steward holds firm. “What is the meaning of this?”

“They were not paid the proper amount for several years,” Arthur says calmly, “we are rectifying this.”

“But this—this—this would put the crown in debt!”

“And any proceedings from a legal standpoint would as well. Or would you rather the crown be taken to a formal trial and then forced to pay owed wages?”

Leon steps up to contain the lord’s fury, but Arthur couldn’t care less. Not when Merlin is looking at him with his mouth open and something suspiciously shiny about his eyes.

He risks only a glance at him before he stands and brings the meeting to a close.

***

”That was good of you,” Gwaine says, quiet enough that it’s hidden under the clang and clash of swords on the training field, “making up his pay like that.”

“It’s what he’s owed.”

”Still.” He wipes his blade with a rag. “Never seen a King stick his neck out like that for a servant.”

“It’s Merlin.”

“That it is.” Their shoulders bump. “Still. Good one, mate.”

Arthur just nods. Merlin is across the field, tending to a table of armor that needs to be repaired. He sees Lancelot, Elyan, and Percival each go up to him in turn, talking to him or ruffling his hair. Even Leon glances over from where he’s supervising a group of younger knights and gifts him with a softer smile.

“He looks happier.”

“He does,” Gwaine agrees, stretching out next to him, “he’s sleeping better too.”

Arthur whips around. “How would you know how he’s sleeping?”

“Whoa, easy, Princess,” Gwaine laughs, “not like that. He’s finally bought himself a proper mattress, that’s all. Heard him talking about it with Gaius this morning.”

“Oh.”

Gwaine chuckles. “Don’t worry, none of us would dare.”

“You’d better not.”

“Oh, I like myself intact, thank you very much.” He sniffs. “Not that you’d actually manage to do that much damage.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Gwaine shoves him lightly and they both laugh. It trails off and they go back to watching the men train. At least, ostensibly they’re watching the men train. Really they’re both watching Merlin.

”I wish he’d told me,” Arthur says, almost too quiet to hear. He knows Gwaine does by the way he hums.

They look at each other. Arthur searches his expression for a long moment. Gwaine’s eyebrow twitches.

Tell me, he pleads silently, please, tell me.

Gwaine doesn’t say a word.

With a sigh, Arthur looks back at Merlin. Their eyes meet across the field. Merlin’s brow twitches in a silent you alright? Arthur nods. Merlin grins.

With a grunt, he heaves himself to his feet, readying his sword to go and relieve Percival from his bout with Lancelot, when Gwaine catches his arm.

“Arthur.”

“Yes?”

“Next time you and Merlin go on a hunt, don’t kill anything.”

He frowns, a thousand questions building up on the tip of his tongue, but he nods. Gwaine nods back and loudly goes to make a nuisance of himself.

“Sire,” Elyan says as he approaches, “is everything alright?”

“Fine, fine. Shall we?”

“Ready when you are.”

***

“I still don’t understand why you insist on these hunts,” Merlin grumbles as he shoves something else into a pack, “it’s not like we don’t have food in the castle.”

“Maybe it’s not about the food, Merlin.”

“Oh, so you just want to go kill something. Should’ve guessed.”

He cuffs him lightly upside the head. “Just get the horses ready.”

Merlin grumbles something unflattering about Arthur’s resemblance to his horse as he goes. Gwaine’s words turn over and over in his mind as he packs up the crossbow. He truly isn’t planning on killing anything, but the woods aren’t exactly free of dangers. At the very least, if there are bandits that decide to attack them.

Merlin can say all he wants about not enjoying hunts, but he can’t hide the way his shoulders slump when they leave the walls of the city. He has that terribly earnest and whimsical look on his face as they make it into the woods, the breeze ruffling his hair and the birds calling out from the trees. Arthur has to remind himself to look where his horse is going and not just stare at Merlin the entire time, but Merlin’s not exactly looking at him either, so he can get away with it.

He may have claimed this was a hunt, but Merlin hasn’t seemed to notice that they’re not hunting anything. They pass more than a few obvious deer tracks that Arthur completely ignores and any smaller game like rabbit scatter well before Arthur could so much as reach for the crossbow. Instead, Merlin is in a little world of his own, marveling at the forest like it’s the most splendid thing he’s ever seen.

Arthur supposes he can’t talk, that’s how he’s looking at Merlin.

Eventually, he calls for a break near the river. Merlin just hums and gets off the horse, taking the bit from its mouth so it can graze, and loosening the saddle’s girth. Arthur sets the pack on the ground and rifles through it for their water skins.

“I’m going to fill these up, set up the rest of camp.”

“But we haven’t caught anything yet.”

“No harm in taking a rest, is there? Though if you want to keep going—“

“No, no, rest is good.”

Arthur chuckles as he heads off through the trees, listening to Merlin bustle about behind him. He manages to get down to the river in a few short minutes, holding the water skins under a small waterfall to fill them.

”Hey,” he mutters to himself, “so I’m glad we sorted out the thing with your pay, but now apparently there’s something else I don’t know about. What is it?”

Yeah, like that would work.

“The knights know something about you and I’m worried it’s similar. What is it?”

Also not likely to work.

“I’m worried about you and also quite hopelessly in love. Help.” He scoffs at himself. “I’d have better luck telling my father I want to court a servant.”

He mutters half a dozen more to himself, each worse than the last, before he realizes the sun is going down and he’s been ‘getting water’ for far too long. He drags his feet through the brush as he goes back, still muttering, when he hears something from the direction of their camp. Instinctively, he crouches and reaches for the dagger on his hip.

He peers around a tree and—

Oh.

Oh, no.

Merlin is sitting in the middle of camp with golden tendrils of magic—it must be magic, it couldn’t possibly be anything else—creating a suspended web of leaves and flowers in a sphere around himself. Butterflies flit around him like he’s some forest nymph. His fingers move and twirl through the air and it responds to him like a living thing. Arthur is speechless.

Merlin has magic.

Merlin had magic.

And it’s beautiful and incredible and so very Merlin and Arthur is done for.

Just as he’s coming to the conclusion of how irrevocably bollocked he is, Merlin turns and sees him.

The yelp he makes is heartbreaking and all the things crash down around him as he scrabbles away. But he goes too fast and ends up flat on his back, staring at Arthur with his eyes so wide he can see the whites all the way around. Arthur quickly decides that this is unacceptable and Merlin is never allowed to be scared like this, and so he raises his hands in a gesture of surrender.

Merlin doesn’t move.

Slowly, so slowly, Arthur starts to make his way across the clearing. Merlin flinches and bites his lip to stifle his whimpers whenever Arthur accidentally snaps a twig or crushes a leaf. It takes an age and Arthur’s shoulders ache by the time he makes it, but then he’s standing over Merlin and he reaches out a hand.

Merlin takes it. He can feel it tremble.

Carefully, he pulls Merlin to his feet. The poor thing still looks so scared and Arthur wracks his brain for something, anything he could say to make this better, let Merlin know he would never, that it’s all going to be alright…

But he’s never been particularly good with words.

Actions, on the other hand…

Telegraphing his movements so Merlin can stop him, he cups the side of Merlin’s face, feeling his jaw tremble. With a courage he does not feel, he leans in.

Merlin makes a surprised noise when he kisses him, but slowly, slowly, he kisses back.

Camelot could go to war, bandits could ambush them, Uther himself could stride into the clearing and Arthur would tell him to wait.

They break apart but dare not separate, still breathing the same air. Arthur swallows heavily and pulls Merlin closer.

“I’m going to legalize magic.”

Merlin’s breath stutters against his cheek. “You’re—you what?”

“I’m going to legalize magic.”

“So…you’re not going to kill me?”

“No. Never.” He tangles his fingers in Merlin’s hair. “I would sooner throw myself on the sword.”

Merlin huffs a strangled laugh. “Will you kiss me again?”

Arthur doesn’t hesitate.

Gwaine is never going to let him live this down. But he’s the King, so it doesn’t matter.

#bbc merlin #merlin bbc #merlin #dragonbabbles #fic

27 notes · View notes

looneyleyle · 6 months

Text

sweetcheeks ~ s. macher

synopsis: stu macher ended things with you exactly one year ago. so why oh why did you end up in front of his house tonight?

warnings: angstyish, lots of anger, scream-typical violence and gore

words: 1916

morgan pov

"so that's it? done? just like that?" the man in front of me just shrugged, as if he wasn't standing there in a couples costume that he made us wear, as if we didn't just have a beautiful night of partying with our friends, as if we haven't been doing things together for the past seven months.

"like it was fun and all but it wasn't that serious y'know?" he told me, slumped against the wall, staring at the door out of my room. i couldn't believe him. my mind was going a thousand miles a minute. bullshit. absolute bullshit. and out of nowhere? i didn't know what to say. in response to my silence, he started walking towards the door, planting a kiss on my head as he walked by. as he reached the doorframe, i screamed at him.

"fuck you stu macher!" he held up for just one second, turning around.

"fuck you? i already have sweetcheeks." and with that, he walked down the hall and out of my house, and out of my life.

it's been almost exactly a year since then. he dated around, the most notable being casey becker and tatum riley. he started fooling around with casey merely two weeks after our breakup, solidifying the fact that i would never ever ever in a million years go back to that backstabbing little bitch.

"hey, morgan, did you hear the news?!" my friend, matthew, panted, having just ran to catch up with me.

"what news? did principal himbry finally get caught touching a kid?" i asked sarcastically. matthew grabbed me by my shoulders, stopping me from going any further.

"matthew, we have to get to class-"

"casey becker and steve orth were murdered last night." my eyes widened in shock.

"casey? and steve? what the hell?" i questioned, not able to process the information. looking around me, everyone else seemed to have the same shocked or worried faces. news vans were starting to pull up, interviewing students.

"do they know what happened?" i asked. matthew shook his head.

"found both of them with their guts pulled out of their bodies, casey hanging from a tree." he mumbled, resuming our walk to class.

"jesus" i gasped. he continued.

"they have no clue who it was, no suspects. everyone is spooked, pointing fingers at each other."

and that was indeed the case. anyone who had ever even looked at casey or steve was interviewed that day. i didn't know casey that well, but i had a few classes with steve over the years. naturally, i was interviewed, and when they realized that i had no motivation whatsoever to kill them and a solid alibi, they let me go back to english.

"that was so intense! they were all 'where were you between 9 and 11 pm last night'! i've never been questioned by the police before!!" matthew gushed.

"check yourself buddy, you sound like you're happy about all of this." i warned him as we passed by a few reporters.

"right, right, sorry." we kept walking, passing bitch face and his crew at the water fountain, his new girl all over him. in all honesty, i had no problems with tatum, she was nice enough, but she was associated with stu, which meant i hated her. i scoffed quietly as we approached them.

"you're not seriously still hung up on him, are you?" matthew asked quietly. matthew was never a fan of stu, claiming something was off about him.

"i'm not 'hung up on him', i'm mad that i ever let a jackass like him make me feel so shitty" i corrected him, glaring at stu. he looked at me, his face going completely blank. i just looked away, not letting him get to me. it's been almost a year, well, kind of. i had a few... relapses, lapses in judgement that i would never let anyone know about, especially not matthew. i had stopped it completely a few months ago, hating the way i'd feel afterwards. and of course, a couple nights after i stopped letting myself go back to him, he started dating tatum. it was all deja vu, it made me nauseous.

speaking of nauseous, that was exactly how i felt when i was invited to a party at stu's the following day.

"how idiotic can he be? throwing a party when there's a killer on the loose? i mean, hello, he may be stupid, but he's never been that stupid!" i ranted. matthew just sat there, burning a cd at my kitchen table.

"starting to sound like you care about him" he mumbled. i hit him lightly on the head, earning a yelp back. he finished up with the cd before packing everything up.

"look, i gotta get back home, curfew and all. whatever you do, don't go to that party. i know you, you're too nosy for your own good. sit on your couch and watch some tv until your parents get home, alright?" he lectured, heading to the door.

"yes dad" i replied, plopping down on the couch.

naturally, i left for the party about an hour later. i don't know why i did it, i wasn't friends with billy or sid or tatum or even randy after stu cut whatever we had short. i didn't know anyone that was going to be there besides the asshole of a host. i just couldn't get my mind off of it. plus, safety in numbers, right? no killer is gonna walk into a room of thirty teenagers and say, yeah, this is a good idea.

so, i drove over to stu's place. it was like muscle memory, and those weren't the only memories activated. every other second another memory flooded over me, from us blasting music to stargazing on the side of the road to some not-so-pg activities in the back of his car. i hadn't been up his road in exactly a year now, when i went to his house to get ready with our matching costumes. i swallowed the heavy lump in my throat, already seeing the line of cars leading towards the house. i parked and got out quickly, a bit paranoid with the killer. obviously he wouldn't come out and start slicing throats in a room of thirty people, but a girl walking alone on the side of the road? sounds like fair game to me. so, i picked up the pace until i was safely through the door of the macher residence. it was the same as it was a year ago, just now swarmed with a bunch of drunk teenagers. i went over to the living room to see randy and a group of people watching halloween. i stood behind the couch watching until i was forcibly yanked into the kitchen. i opened my mouth to scream, but a hand quickly clamped over it. i looked to see the angry eyes of stu macher.

"what the hell are you doing here sweetcheeks?" he asked, his voice strained, not trying to cause a commotion. the two girls talking in the kitchen, sensing the tension in the air, left us alone. i tried to wiggle out of his grip, but it only made him grip onto me harder.

"it's called free will dipshit."

"it's called you shouldn't be here." he continued, looking around frantically.

"what's the big deal? afraid tatum is gonna walk in on this?" i remarked, rolling my eyes.

"i don't give a shit about what she thinks." he said offhandedly, looking at the clock.

"shouldn't you care about what your girlfriend thinks." i spat. he stayed silent at that, looking back at me.

"you need to go. now. i didn't go through all of this trouble just for you to fuck it up." i nearly headbutted him. me? fuck something up? after all he did?

"you listen here, stu macher-"

"no, you listen here, morgan, i have done everything for the past year to make sure you would be safe. go to your car and speed home and don't look back. i'll explain everything tomorrow-"

"'to make sure i would be safe' what the hell are you going on about? what the fuck is going on?"

"i can't tell you."

"yes you can."

"sweetcheeks, you don't understand, i can't tell you."

"stop calling me that. tell me what's going on."

"if he tells you, he'll have to kill you" a voice chimed in from the doorway. we both looked over to see billy loomis, an amused smirk on his face.

"billy, not now." stu demanded. i was a bit taken aback, stu was never this serious, especially not to billy.

"no stu, go on, tell her what's about to happen? she'll know soon enough."

"shut up billy, she doesn't need to know." he growled. billy's smirk didn't fade, waltzing right up to me, stu moving to stand in between us.

"you wanna know why loverboy called it quits?"

"billy-"

"wanna know why he broke your heart out of nowhere and moved on just like that?"

"billy stop"

"he really did love you, even i was surprised when he told me it was over. makes sense now, he was just trying to protect you."

"billy shut the fuck up!" he yelled. my head was spinning, too much was going on.

"now that she's here, she can't escape her fate. you might as well just tell her. i'll be waiting outside." billy told stu, but it sounded more like a threat. when stu turned to look at me, he looked lost, like he was broken.

"stu, what's going on?" i asked softly, reaching out to grab his arm. tears brimmed his eyes, and he screamed "dammit!" as he hit the fridge. i rubbed my hand up and down his arm, something that would comfort him while we were seeing each other.

"i loved you. i love you. last year, billy had this crazy idea, and i just ran with it. but i didn't want you to get involved, i didn't want you to know about that part of my life. i knew that if this continued, he would try to loop you in somehow, i needed to make sure you were safe. so i broke it off between us, but it didn't even matter in the end, did it? he's just gonna kill you anyways." he spiraled, tears streaming down his face. my heart dropped.

"stu, what do you mean kill me?" i asked, already knowing my answer. he gave me a weak smile, tear stains streaked down his face, and the most terrifying words left his pretty lips.

"sweetcheeks, we're the killers. killed sid's mom last year, killed casey and steve, killed himbry, tonight was the finale. if you had just stayed away for one more day, i could've came back, i could've made it all up to you. we could have moved on like nothing ever happened, just you and me." i shook as i processed the information, stu wrapping me up in a hug.

"i won't let him do this to you." he cried into my hair, i hugged him back, my own tears starting to fall. and then, all of a sudden, the worst pain i had ever experienced dug into my back. i felt something slide out of my back, and when i looked up, stu was there, sobbing, holding a kitchen knife covered in my blood.

"i'm so sorry sweetcheeks." he whispered before stabbing me in the stomach.

#scream #stu macher #stu x reader #fanfic

10 notes · View notes

currentlyfckingurmom · 11 months

Text

Her Song part 30

FIVE YEARS AGO - ATLANTA, GEORGIA

"Y/N, meet your daughter. Congratulations on a healthy baby girl," the nurse said, handing me the screaming 'bundle of joy' who seemed more like a bundle of chaos than anything. Her face was bright red and a small tuft of thin hair stood up straight on the top of her tiny head.

"Hey, baby," I laughed. "I'm your momma. I can't believe I'm finally meeting you. This won't be easy, but we're gonna get through it just fine, okay? I promise."

I gently kissed her forehead, hot tears falling down my face, heavy with emotion.

After cleaning her up, the nurses left me alone with my newborn daughter. She had finally stopped crying, looking up at me with wide, innocent eyes. She held gently onto my finger as I rocked her to sleep in my arms for the first time.

A nurse came in and we filled out the birth certificate. Sydney Fleur Y/L/N.

When I was told I had a visitor, I had no idea who it would be. I had hoped it would be my parents or a family member coming to forgive me. I was wrong.

My breath caught in my throat when he walked in the room. He smiled a sweet smile that had the nurse convinced he was a good man. He wasn't, and he never will be. "Could you give us a minute?" he asked kindly. The nurse nodded with a smile and left the room. I couldn't find my voice to ask her to stay.

"Long time no see, Y/N," he said, sitting in a chair next to the hospital bed. I clutched my baby closer to my chest. "What? Not even gonna say hi?"

"What the hell are you doing here?" I finally croaked out.

"Well, I came here to see my niece, obviously," he said smugly, knowing damn well what he did.

"She's not your niece," I snapped bitterly.

"Oh really? Because last time I checked, my brother is the one who got you knocked up."

"Get out," I cried.

"No. No, I don't think I will. You know, I haven't stopped thinking about you. The way you looked when he held you down. The way you screamed. The way you begged me for help. So stupid. So naïve. I have to see it again. I have to have you for myself. It was stupid to make Mark do it. I should've taken the prize for myself."

"Leave, now."

"Sweetheart, it's cute that you think you have any control over me. Your parents don't believe you. The cops don't believe you. The whole damn town knows what a slut you are. It's a good thing you're pretty, 'cause there's nothing in that head of yours."

"Look, Ben, you have five seconds to get out or I'm calling security to drag you out."

"Oh yeah? Is that what you're gonna do? Newsflash, Y/N: I'm five years older than you, way stronger, and closer to the phone. So threaten me all you want, but you can't do shit, and we both know it," Ben sneered.

I cried, my shoulders slumping more. "Why'd you make Mark do it? Why make your own brother..."

He seemed to think it over before laughing shortly, sharply. "Because I wanted to. And because I could."

"You had your fun. Just leave me and my kid alone. What the hell do you even want from me?"

He smirked. It looked kind at first glance, but his eyes were menacing, and I knew better by then. "I want you. I want to feel you the way Mark did. I want you to be mine, the way you should've been from the start."

"You're delusional," I laughed humorlessly. I swung my hand backward and pressed the code blue button on the wall.

"You bitch," he spat as people began rushing toward the room. "I will find you again, Y/N. You can't run forever."

And those were his last words to me.

Until five years later.

PRESENT DAY - NEW YORK CITY

I've never told anybody exactly what happened that night at that stupid party. Or that day at the hospital when Syd was born. Not even Ash. I always figured it would be something I'd take to the grave. There's no point in going to the cops; they won't do anything until he kills me. But now...now I think maybe I should have told someone. Changed my name. Done anything to hide better.

He found me.

He found me, and there's not a damn thing I can do.

It's been so long. So long that I thought we were safe. I guess not. Maybe he's just dumber than I thought so it took him five years to find me. Or maybe he was just waiting until I was truly happy, just so he could take it all away from me.

I check that all the windows are shut and the door is locked, then pull all the curtains closed tight. I quietly spin a chair in the living room to face the apartment door. I'd feel more comfortable if I had my gun, but I got rid of it after I quit my job at the club. I had a kid to think about and wasn't in imminent danger because of my job anymore, so I got rid of it. I regret that now.

He can get to me. He can hurt me, he can kill me, he can do whatever he wants to me. But he's not getting to my kid. He will never have the chance to hurt my family. Syd, Florence, and Ash will be safe. Even if I have to die protecting them.

When I met you I picked you out, I shook you up and turned you around Turned you into someone new Now five years later on you've got the world at your feet Success has been so easy for you But don't forget, it's me who put you where you are now and I can put you back down too Don't, don't you want me? You know I can't believe it When I hear that you won't see me Don't, don't you want me? You know I can't believe it When you say that you don't need me It's much too late to find You think you've changed your mind You'd better change it back Or we will both be sorry

#florence pugh x reader

12 notes · View notes

afniel · 2 years

Text

Dream Journal: What The Fuck Why Am I So God-Awful Bad At Lucid Dreaming Seriously I'm Going To Shit

I was dreaming that I'd been on the run from the cops for some vague reason for a while. It wasn't anything particularly violent, I don't think, and at that point I was mostly on the run because I had already run so why not just go all the way with it. In for a penny, in for a pound, it's already a felony so whatever, right? At some vague early point in the dream, a kindly man had taken me in for a while and been almost like an adoptive father to me, even knowing what I was hiding from.

I started really remembering bits and pieces later, though, so the main thread really picked up with me living in a ridiculously small apartment with my brother. I only went out at night, but even then, during a grocery run I suspected that someone might have recognized me, so we moved in a huge hurry into a different and much larger place. (I think the original place we'd kept super small in case we had to pack up and go on short notice.)

The new apartment was connected to some kind of huge, shared basement that was like a giant man cave or maybe even a museum of hobbies, with video game and music memorabilia all over. I was so intrigued that I let my guard down like an idiot because I was very absorbed in some Mega Man/Mega Man X merch that I'd never seen before. When I turned around, I realized there was a half-circle of people around me, keeping a distance like they were afraid of me.

"Oh, God dammit," I said. "You called the cops, didn't you?"

"So what if I did?" said a random guy, which told me who I was going to be pissed with. "What are you gonna do about it?"

I picked up a still mint in box, goofy-looking X Buster toy and wedged my hand into it, thinking, hey, this seems like it's probably a dream, so if I believe hard enough, I should be able to use this for real and just turn into an extremely cool reploid and get the hell out of here. Right? Sounds reasonable. I'll just envision myself as uuuuhhhhhh having a really slick black design with some gold trim and a badass beam saber and whack all these dumb people and escape, easy.

So I envisioned this as hard as I could, swung a completely empty, normal human hand at the guy who'd called the cops, supplied the vwoosh noise with my mouth because it sure wasn't coming out of the lack of actual beam saber in my hand, and attempted to decapitate the man with a handful of nothing whatsoever.

He looked confused, then very annoyed, and died completely uninjured out of what seemed to be a crushing sense of obligation to the bit.

It didn't even spook everyone else that much, so I decided they all had to go and set about commiting mass murder with absolutely nothing but some stupid mouth sounds and a growing embarrassment. Now everyone had to die because oh gods they have all seen me completely fail to lucid dream and I look silly as hell.

Making things even worse, at that moment one of my IRL friends who's creepily good at dream work showed up out of nowhere, looking at me like I'd probably lost my marbles. "Hey, okay, at least you can see this, right?" I asked, vaguely indicating the cool black armor I should have had and the nonexistent beam saber with which I'd been exasperating people to death.

She looked for a few moments, squinted, shrugged, and did a so-so gesture with her hand. "...-ish, I guess?" Then she turned around and walked right out of the dream through a wall.*

At that point a SWAT team or three had shown up and I was beginning to get the hang of making a mess without adding my own stupid sound effects. Someone managed to get closer to me, tried to speak to me, and I stuck my beam saber through him, and holy shit, it worked and actually existed finally, it had taken me an entire fight sequence but I finally got the stupid lucid dream bullshit working!

...and then I realized that I'd just killed the guy from the very beginning of my dream who'd helped hide me and believed me when I said that I wasn't dangerous, I just needed to get away. He'd come to try to talk me down, and I was so high on lucid dream bloodlust that I'd run him through without a thought.

Which is about where I woke up, after a little bit of panicked shouting and some more destruction on my part, because I am just extremely not known for my great self-control in my sleep.

FOR REAL THO WHO KILLS PEOPLE BY MAKING VWOOSH VWOOSH PEW PEW LASERS SOUNDS AT THEM, why am I like this. I can't even pass the lucidity test half the time because normal physics work too well in my dreams and everything is readable and doesn't shift around at random, and then even when I do, my whole-ass dream fights me tooth and nail to not let me change it. I demand a new brain.

*She unfortunately saw the entire thing from her own PoV and yeah it looked pretty silly, but better than some attempts she'd seen from people who claim to be way better at lucid dreaming, so she did not give me a hard time about it when I asked later.

#dream journal #lucid dreaming #...sorta #not really that lucid just enough to make it weird #wonder if it would have gone smoother had I stuck with trying to shift to my usual fae form instead #I've never tried a reploid form for dream/astral stuff so I feel like unfamiliarity dicked me over a bit there #should I practice? or is that just silly? would it even work? no idea lol

8 notes · View notes

simplymekaty · 2 years

Text

The one where I don't believe in romantic happy endings

I don't believe that romantic love is meant for me anymore. And I am O.K. with that. It's other people who are not O.K. with me thinking that.

I've said it before and I'll say it again...I don't think everyone gets their romantic relationship happy ending. I thought I'd got mine and then it turned out I wasn't what he wanted. The man I loved decided that anything & anyone was better than anything I could offer him & I quickly & painfully learnt that kind of rejection is something that is really hard to get over.

I'm not heartbroken anymore but I am certainly closed off in a way that I wasn't before. I've tried to convince myself that I am not but I really am. Any attempts that have been made to break down the walls I've put up have been steadfastly rejected.

But if I am truly honest (and hey it's me, I can't not say it like it is), I have always been the same. My last long term relationship, it took him over a month & a half to persuade me to go on a sort of date with him and even then I brought a friend. I kid you not. But from that date forward. I was all in. Even though I didn't realise it for a few months. I really was.

I think some break ups spur you on to learn from the mistakes you make & grow into a wiser, more emotionally secure and emotionally available partner for the next person you become involved with. But others leave you with a person shaped hole in your very soul that you never imagined you'd have to reshape and fit someone else into... so you brick up the gap and woe betide anyone who comes along and tries to break down the wall and fit themselves into the space that was meant for someone else. But of course, no one can fill the space of someone else in the same way, no matter how much you might want them to. I mean they say comparison is the thief of joy and they aren't wrong. Comparing the good parts of someone you miss to a new person and them falling short of your expectations can never be a good thing because no two people are the same. But it's hard not to do it. And especially when the person shaped hole you still have is someone that meant so very much to you.

I'm told my view point is not healthy. I know that. But I won't just let anyone in. Not romantically speaking. Because like I said, when I do let someone in, I'm all in. The whole kit & caboodle. No holds barred. Jumping from the plane and hoping I remembered my parachute. I don't know how to be anything less than 100% invested in someone. And being a 100% all in, it brings the risk of heartache. And honestly, I don't have anything left for someone new to break.

It's weird because I make fast friends ALL the time. I'm utterly carefree when meeting new people. It's like hearing a new song for the first time and just wanting to play it on repeat constantly. And these new friendships either get moved to my constant playlist or resigned to the bottom of my friend collection, perhaps never to be played again. But woe betide anyone that tries to turn a friendship into something "more meaningful". That shit don't work on me boys.

Well, every now and then, someone has come along and impacted me in a way that I never expected but it's very rare. And some of those people have made me catch my breath for a long time after they have left. Hindsight has me thoroughly ashamed that any of them, bar one, ever caught my attention in the first place. But then we all have that one...the what if. But what's the point of what ifs. There isn't one.

Time will always show you that there is no value in going back to where you lost someone. Especially if the place where you lost someone is where they purposely left you. Leaving someone and losing someone are two very different circumstances. And those circumstances can make you look back wistfully when you still miss them. But they will never be there again. Even as a friend. Which is probably the really sad part. How can someone that meant so much just be gone from your life. But it happens. It happened. On top of everything else, you not only lose your lover but your best friend too. And it sucks. Who wants to go through that again. Not me.

What's done is done. And so the walls will stay up and I'll always willingly celebrate other people's unions and revel in their joy & happiness at having found each other. I mean who doesn't love a good love story!

But I'll keep me for me. And be content with memories that now make me smile rather than weep and just be happy that despite everything, I am still here and I am living my life, differently from how I had at one time imagined but still living it to the full. Love is just not for me and that's O.K.

#simplymekaty #love #not love #no happy ending #notsad #differentkindsoflove #brain dump #breakups #endings

2 notes · View notes

hungryyheartarchive · 1 year

Note

👋 - A Friend

"edith currie," he says. maybe that's a slap in the face to the likes of roy huntley, who he had known since the third grade, but the heart wants what the heart wants - or wanted. "she was... her and her friends were the clique in high school. the untouchables. at least for the likes of me."

and he laughs, like anything's changed since then. fangs and the ability to sniff out every rodent within a one-hundred-mile radius does not a popular kid make.

"we were in the same english lit class, which was my favourite. i dunno if i believe in natural gifts, but it was the one subject that i knew i had a chance of proving myself in, so long as i put in the work. i didn't care so much about how i fared in biology or math, but i had to do well in english. it was important to me. i was passionate about it, and passion about anything other than boobs and the who isn't cool when you're fifteen. i know most kids thought i was - hey, if they even thought of me at all, you know, but they thought i was very serious and very busy. a square, basically. i think that was the general consensus they agreed on. there was this writing competition i won... they printed my story in one of the local papers. some kids made fun of it. usually just in the hallways, they'd shout out a line at me but some adjective would be replaced with schlong, but someone brought it up one day in class and even before mr. lopez could get a word in, she whipped around in her chair and told them that if they broke her concentration she'd break their teeth. but she said it with this - she had such a sweet smile on her face. her oracy was unmatched. it was excellent. it was horrifying. it was so damn cool. and she gave me this... look, afterward, like: you're welcome.

"she joined the debate team the year i made co-captain. i could see why - she had a natural way with words. that's how we got to talking, at the start. but then she'd stop and say hi to me by my locker. or at lunch, even on the days we didn't have practice. i knew what her friends must've thought about it - oh, god, i've seen some messed up shit in my life, but one of my most harrowing experiences is the look on their faces when she invited me to go to a party with them. she never seemed to be affected by any of that status stuff. i never really knew why, exactly, i thought she was miles ahead of the rest of us - why all of that clique felt like that. maybe just because they had hit the jackpot when it came to looks, and personality, and being born into the right families, and all that stuff but that's all superficial. she had the sort of - i-don't-care-what-anyone-else thinks that you only really start to master when your frontal lobe isn't squishy anymore. i really think i was - inspired by her, more than anything else. of course the fact she smelled good was a nice touch. and the way she styled her hair, and she had this one blouse...

"anyway, just before the summer, we won a debate tournament, and the school gave us money to go out and celebrate. so long as it was a family-friendly celebration. took a while for everyone's schedules to align. when it did, we went bowling. bowling was big back then. do people still bowl anymore? it was fun. it wasn't anywhere near as awkward as i kept telling myself it would be. even when miles brought out his thumb protector. and i didn't ruin it the way i kept telling myself i would. i walked her home, because i'm so chivalrous - right on the cusp of july. felt like the sun was gonna keep on setting forever without ever reaching the ground. that was when she gave me her home phone number, and i spent the rest of the summer being too chicken to actually call her. oh, i had plans. big plans. and i'd guard the hallway where the phone lived in our house, and i'd toss pintacks at my brothers and sisters when they got too close. then i'd spend the whole night looking at the wall, wishing i had the guts and hating myself because i didn't. what's the use in being the smartest guy in english lit if you haven't got any guts? i knew what was scaring me: was it enough just to make her laugh? can friendships really be sustained on that? what would happen when she found out that was all i was good at? sure, i could spell acquiesce, but... i never felt like i could be the whole package. not even just to edith. to anybody.

"i saw her again, when school started back. i couldn't believe it when she asked where i had been. i made up this ridiculous story that my uncle took me to the bahamas out of the blue. by the way, my uncle wouldn't pee on me if i was on fire. he never forgave me for spitting up on his birthday cake when i was two. and i didn't think she would've minded - she probably regretted giving me access like that. now here she was, telling me that there was things she had wanted to go to that her friends had no interest in - can you believe her friends didn't want to go see the re-release of smokey and the bandit? - she thought it'd be perfect for us. for us? there was an us? that gave me all the guts i'd ever need. too much, actually. maybe it was a good thing that life, uh, took a turn for me. i know i would've made a complete ass out of myself asking her to that fall dance. and it's better to have the memories i do have, instead of one catastrophic disaster overshadowing all the rest of it."

he didn't realize he had this much to say about edith. the sudden awareness of this makes him fidget. funny how you never know how much you've got bottled up until someone pops the cork out.

conrad clears his throat and straightens his slouched back. he's still got the same awful posture he had back then. "i miss her." there's that laugh again, and his eyes cast downwards as his knuckles rub underneath his chin. " and you know what. we would've had a lot of fun at that dance, i think." he smiles. his frontal lobe will always be squishy, so maybe he's unable to commit to it, but he knows that it's okay to feel good about yourself sometimes, and say it out loud. "even though i would've been astonishingly sweaty."

#headcanons.#asks.#bewitchingbaker

1 note · View note

slashingdisneypasta · 2 years

Text

Mr Barron x Spouse!Ymbryne!Reader || Drabble

Plot: Reader has a serious talk with Barron. Love and fear collide, and you win.

Warnings: Angst, referencing the killing of peculiar children

"And what about me?" I ask, courage rising to the top as i turn round to see him walking to the door, having thought our conversation was over. Having thought I was feeling more timid, then I am. And almost any other day he would've been right. He could have told me his plans and I would have quietly let him walk away- I would have packed up myself and the kids quietly that night and left the country without looking him in the eye.

And I'd count the days until he found us, knowing I'd kill him the same way.

But it seems my oats were laced with adrenaline this morning, and I'm rooted to the spot but my tongue is sharp.

He stops, turns around carefully, and tilts his head; A look of deep confusion on his face. Its almost funny. "Wh- I'm sorry, what?" He asks, rather bluntly.

My brows quirk up my forehead, prompting him to buck up. I need to know. Now. Please, he must love me enough to give me a head start, at least. Surely... "Will you kill me too, eventually?"

Immediately he comes forward, and his hands come for me, and I'm too weak- to back up. My words may be ready to fight but my body isn't, not when he cups my face and those familiar eyes are so earnest, so sincere, so surprised.

Why he would be surprised by my words, I have no clue.

"No," He pleads, trying to make me believe him. Pressing his forehead to mine, he traces the pads of his thumbs across my temples. "No, never. Not you... Godamnit, Y/N, you're special, you're important... I love you... I could never hurt you... " I almost do, because I desperately want to. I want to believe he truly loves me enough to keep me safe from all this, his greed and his curiosity. Because I deeply love him...

But I cant believe him. I cant believe that he could possibly have a separate part of him... for me. That he could separate me and my all this in his brain... I must believe that eventually, he would get desperate and they would merge, and I would get destroyed. Even if it was true and by some miracle his intentions towards me were entirely pure, I cant afford to. I have my kids to focus on, and their survival depends on me believing that he's totally, and irreversibly evil... from every, crevice.

"And my kids?" As I was thinking, hardening my heart towards him, I had removed my gaze from his; Looked down. But now I flick my eyes back up to his, and watch the inevitable wobble.

And inevitable, it is. He hesitates, holding eye contact for a good moment but looking more as if he were on the defensive... rather then if he were about to assure me.

"Uh- Uh... U-U-Um, well-" He looks away and I take in a deep breath, pulling away from him. "We- Well Y/N, come on, Spitfire, I- I, I have to do this. Hey, I promise if I don't have to, I wont come near your kids. But I... well, I... "

"You cant promise me that if have to, you wont." I finish for him, stepping back entirely. Entering new air, air that isn't suffocated by him. Theirs venom in my voice clear as day and it makes him look at me different, a trace of poison entering his eyes as well.

"Look, Y/N... " He comes forward again, and I back up but he follows me all the way to the wall. I take a deep breath, shoulders rising, as he comes in close again but I don't look away- or back down. This is about my kids! I cant afford to be weak right now, despite my heart beating frantically in my chance. "I've worked too hard for this. The plan is in motion... I cant just go oops! Nevermind!" His voice is gentle, but deadly and mocking, and I narrow your eyes at him for it. Which he shrugs at, careless. "Sorry."

I peer up into his eyes now, searching for even a trace of good. Something other then apathy and greed... But I know its not there. "You really want this that much? You want to live forever no matter the cost?"

A forced grin is pasted to his lips, then. "Well, almost." And his hands land on my waist.

My eyes flash, looking from those to his eyes. "Oh, no." He doesn't love me enough to save my kids- my life- but he loves me enough to want to keep me? How dare he-

"Come on... "He tilts his head, apparently all-too-comfortable in his evil. "Where'd my timid little Spitfire go?"

I'm still here, my love whispers. I'm scared to death, my fear screams, as well. Even my anger growls out a gravelly I don't have the luxury right now. But my heartbreak is what gets to my tongue first.

"Where did my husband, go?"

At that, he seems to sober up a little bit; Straightening his shoulders from the dangerous hunched way they sat leaning over me before, and flashing me a cautious look. As if telling me to watch myself.

I touched a nerve.

"He's right goddamn here, cant you see 'em?"

I'm reaching up to his hair before I even realise it, threading my fingers through the crazy white strands. "I see him... " I say softly, seeing his eyes soften as well in my peripheral vision. His shoulders relaxing as my hands land carefully on them, the material of his coat rough under my touch. "... But I you have to understand... " I plead this time, exchanging that crucial eye contact with him for what could be, hopefully is, the last time. Because if it happens again, one of us will have to kill the other and I don't want that. "I cant be with him."

Then I transform, before his grip can clamp down on me and keep me there- growing out my wings and shrinking down in stature, and hearing him shout a curse before I fly right out the window.

#Mr Barron x Reader #Miss Peregrines Home For Peculiar Children x Reader #Mr Barron x Reader Drabble #Mr Barron #Miss Peregrines Home For Peculiar Children Mr Barron x Reader #MPHFPC Mr Barron #MPHFPC x Reader

83 notes · View notes

bi-bard · 3 years

Text

Never - Winchester Brothers Imagine (Supernatural)

Title: Never

Pairing: Winchester Brothers X Platonic!Reader

Requested: by @shinestuart

Word Count: 1,084 words

Warning(s): torture, injury, cussing

Summary: (Season 11) It was stupid of the boys to believe that Amara was unaware of the one thing that could've killed her. Now, they had to face the consequences of dragging (Y/n) into the hunting world.

Author's Note: I kinda worked with my imagine "Milkshakes" more than anything else. I think it was where I most explicitly noted the reader as a weapon.

Hey! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account)

------------------------------------

I gasped as I woke up.

I looked around. It was a warehouse or an old factory. It was dark and empty. The windows were too high for me to see out of. I didn't see any light coming through them. It was nighttime.

There were candles surrounding the whole building. I wasn't pegging Amara for the "pay the electrical bill" type. She was definitely more of the, "make sure to set the mood" type.

I was tied to a metal cross. My arms spread out, wrists tied to either end. My legs tied together and to the pole behind me. There was another rope around my waist to hold me still.

Amara stood before me. Grace and power. The two elements that could perfectly instill fear. I pulled on the restraints on my arms.

"Hello," she greeted. "I believe you know my brother."

"Not personally," I bit back. I had only known them for a matter of months, but Sam and Dean had already impacted how I acted.

She chuckled.

I tugged on my restraints again.

"I know about you," she explained. "God's perfect weapon. Probably that only thing that could defeat me."

"You should be scared of me then."

"Oh, no," Amara held and hand out and I felt my throat closing. "I don't need to. First of all, the- admittedly complex- sigil carved into that pole will stop your powers. Second of all... I have an offer. You have two choices, you can die or... you work with me."

She stopped choking me. I coughed as I tried to catch my breath.

I looked her in the eye, "Go to hell."

Suddenly, she was right in front of me, grabbing my jaw so I couldn't move my head.

"What was that," she sneered.

"I said, 'go to hell,'" I replied. She let go of my chin. "I will not help you destroy the world."

"Why because it's so great?"

"Because the people I love are here."

"The people the Winchesters dragged you away from?"

I fell silent, clenching my jaw.

Suddenly, I was choking again.

"You have nothing keeping you here. Join me and I can give you a purpose. Teach you to use your gift."

She released her grip again. I spit in her face.

"No," I said with a shaky voice.

It felt like I took a phantom punch to the gut.

"Oh sweetie," she teased. "You are in for a long night."

--time skip--

She was right.

It felt like days of the same cycle. Hitting, choking, and then negotiating for me to join her.

I always said no.

I held onto my free will and was ready to face death for it.

My body was weaker now. Arms barely holding up, legs weak, my head hanging down.

I yelped when there was a sudden jerk on my hair.

"You could make this all stop," she taunted.

"Go. To. Hell," I repeated like I always had.

She growled at me and used her powers to grab my throat, "You ungrateful, cowardly, selfish little-"

Amara didn't finish her speech before she was thrown into the far wall behind me.

I could barely even process what was happening before Sam was in front of me, untying the ropes.

"Sam," I muttered, voice weak and head spinning.

"We're here, we've got you," he promised.

I reached out and grabbed his shoulders as he worked on the ropes by my legs.

"What's going on," I asked.

"I'll explain in a minute," he said.

Sam was then thrown across the room. I almost collapsed as disappeared.

I was frantic.

I pulled at the ropes around my legs, convinced that I was going to die in a minute. My legs were weak and probably had some blood flow cut off earlier.

"Hey, hey," Dean was at the side of the platform, helping me down carefully. "There you go."

"I got them," Sam promised, running over from wherever he had been thrown. "Go help Cas and Chuck."

Who the hell was Chuck?

He helped me into the backseat, "Are you okay?"

"I feel like one massive bruise," I muttered. He sat next to me, letting me rest on his shoulder. "You should go help them."

Sam shook his head, "No, I was told to protect you."

I nodded against his shoulder. I was getting tired after all that had happened.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "It was my idea to drag you into this world. I knew the risk but I was just so desperate to stop Amara that I... I didn't care."

"I'm okay," I moved so my chin was on his shoulder. "I just need to work more."

"You shouldn't have to carry this weight-"

"I wouldn't have agreed to go with you guys if I thought that," I cut him off. "I'm alright now, Sam. Don't blame yourself for this."

Sam didn't speak. I knew that he didn't believe me. But he didn't speak against me either. He just wrapped his arm around me and held me close to his side.

It was only a minute longer before the others came running out. Dean, Cas, and... that must've been Chuck.

"Who is that," I mumbled to Sam.

"You alright, kid," Dean asked as he got into the driver's seat. Sam didn't have time to answer my question.

"I'm alive," I replied. "Is Amara-"

"She vanished on us," he said. Cas got into the passenger seat and Chuck sat in the back with Sam and me.

"Here, let me," Chuck reached over a touched my forehead.

I took a deep breath as I felt myself healing.

"Better," he asked. I nodded, still tired and not getting off of Sam's shoulder. "I should introduce myself. I'm Chuck... or God."

"What," I asked, now overwhelmed. "You're... You're God?"

"He's telling the truth," Dean promised as he pulled out onto the road quickly.

"Woah," I muttered. "Some of your angels are dicks."

Chuck let out a laugh at my blunt comment. I saw the rest of the car tense up.

"Yeah... that's my fault."

"Oh, I know," I nodded. "Thank you... for helping them save me."

"You're welcome," he grinned at me.

I closed my eyes, relaxing against Sam's shoulder again, wrapping my arms around one of his. I slowly let myself fall asleep.

I knew this life was going to be hard when I first met the boys and I was ready for that. I'd rather it be me suffering than the rest of the world.

------------------------------------

Masterlist

What I Write For

Request Guidelines

Musical Prompts

Small Moments With…

When Worlds Collide (Doctor Who Crossover Series) Masterlist

Some Original Characters

folklore/evermore Writing Challenge (and Masterlist)

188 notes · View notes

mcflymemes · 1 year

Text

PACIFIC RIM PROMPTS * assorted dialogue from the 2013 film

we have chosen not only to believe in ourselves, but in each other.

not today.

there is something here we don't understand.

i really can't say.

i saw everything.

we never find anything good.

don't get cocky.

i knew he wouldn't make it.

let's get this bastard.

do not let my calm demeanor fool you.

we needed a new weapon.

who wants to know?

do i make myself clear?

i just don't wanna regret all the things that i never said.

you can go back to the wall that i found you crawling on.

haven't you heard?

i don't care what you think you saw.

guess who's back?

you have to get out of the way.

if you want to help, help with that.

you don't need to.

fortune favors the brave.

there is only one way to make sure.

i was told he was here.

this conversation is over.

turns out i was looking in the wrong direction.

you have no idea who the hell i am, or where i've come from.

you and i are the only thing standing between that ugly bastard and a city of two million people.

one look, that's all i needed.

i can do this alone.

oh, that's great. that's really great!

where would you rather die?

i want to get my hands on that.

can we just talk about this for one second?

i'm sure you can appreciate how important this moment is to me.

you can win.

i need to talk to you.

we either sit and wait, or we take these flare guns and do something really stupid.

where is my goddamn shoe?

i know. i always have.

kick his ass!

it's not obedience. it's respect.

tens of thousands of lives were lost.

don't you ever touch me again.

i think this guy's dead.

numbers are the closest we get to the handwriting of god.

hey handsome.

what do you want?

you like the name?

i imagined you differently.

i've heard a lot about you.

together. i'll go with you.

ugly bastard.

why don't you say hello?

we learned this was not gonna stop.

i'm not about to tell you my whole life story.

i do not need your sympathy or your admiration.

all i need is your compliance and your fighting skills.

the world is coming to an end.

let's check for a pulse.

i thought you couldn't keep them alive.

you're squeezing me too tight.

you're serious?

oh, i'm gonna miss you.

i take it myself.

i asked you not to refer to me by my first name when i'm around others.

there are things you can't fight.

better or worse?

do i really have a choice?

this is worth fighting for.

when i was a kid, whenever i'd feel small or lonely, i'd look up at the stars.

this was just the beginning.

we're gonna own this bad boy.

i'm sorry, it hurts to be wrong.

trust me, you don't want to.

we don't have to just obey him.

oh my god! this place is heaven!

tell me what you want before i gut you like a pig.

this is our research team.

i am not wrong.

you got a good eye.

whatever you wanna call it.

you would do that for me?

110 notes · View notes

lsholland · 3 years

Text

London Lights (pt. 1) - Tom Holland

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader (1st person)

Genre: Party!Tom

Warnings: swearing; alcohol; nothing much but I don’t recommend -18 to read.

Word count: 1.9k

Author’s note: Hey guys! That’s my first story on this blog. I hope you’ll like it. I’m not native so there may be a few mistakes. I’m trying a new genre of fiction. It’s my first Tom Holland fiction. It’ll be a series of 2-3 chapters. If you want to be part of the master list for Tom please like this post and message me.

Synopsis: Quarantine has been tough. I’ve lost my boyfriend, and I’m feeling lonely. Clubs and restaurants are open again, but I feel like it’ll never be like it used to. My friends have been pushing me to install Tinder and go on dates. Well, tonight, I’m going on a date. I don’t really want to but I’m going to try and have fun for once. Just a few drinks and I’ll go home. What else could happen?

PS. You can read the story on Wattpad.

What am I doing here? I think to myself.

I matched with this guy on this famous dating app . . . And now I'm supposed to meet him here, at this bar. But I don't want to. I'm just hoping he won't show up so I can escape from this shit-place.

I've been seated at the table for a good 5 minutes. The waitress cleans up the table next to mine and asks if I'm ready to order.

No, I want to leave.

I quickly glance at the drinks menu.

"Ehm . . . A pour over Irish coffee, please."

She nods and leaves. I don't even know what I just ordered. I hope it tastes good. Hopefully it'll make me drunk enough not to remember this awful date.

It hasn't even started yet.

I'm sweating.

"Hey there" says a husky voice right behind me.

I turn around and see my date. His name is Jordan. He's good-looking and I bet he's intelligent, but I don't have this feeling with him. I don't know why I accepted to go on a date in the first place. It's awkward.

"Hey!" I grin.

"Have you ordered something already?" he asks, touching his short, clean beard. "I'm thirsty!"

He looks nice.

The waitress hands me my third drink. They help the clock tick a little faster.

He's been talking about his job, his passions. He loves football and practises daily. He has 2 sisters and lives in Camberwell.

Cute.

For a moment, I feel sad for him. He drove all the way to this East London bar, put effort trying to look nice and being cool . . . and yet, he doesn't know it but he has no chance to get lucky tonight. Not with me.

I shouldn't be sorry.

But I am.

I glance around looking for something that might be a little more entertaining than him. I realise I've avoided eye contact since he arrived. I finally glimpse at him. He has beautiful hazel eyes.

Still not enough.

I quickly check my phone. It's getting late. I don't know how to end this.

"Look," I slightly bend over the table. "I'm so sorry but I don't feel like it tonight"

"I noticed." He smirked. "Kinda awkward, innit?"

I chuckle. I am so embarrassed.

"It's okay, though." He added. "I'm just trying to meet new people. I broke up with my ex-girlfriend a few weeks ago. My mates told me I should try these apps."

Okay, now I feel worse than ever. He's been so nice with me and that's how I treat him. I grab my drink and gulp it down.

I shouldn't have done this.

"Let's go dance. I owe you one." I say as I grab his hand and walk towards the dancing area. It becomes difficult to keep my head straight.

I'm drunk, I must admit.

I'm going to regret it, my sober-self shouts in my head.

I don't care is what I reply.

The dancing area is not crowded, but there are already a few people. Most of them are girls.

Girls . . . I wish my friends were not so busy all the time. I would've come to this bar with them instead of wasting my time with strangers.

I start dancing. I stare at him. He looks amused.

A group of guys join the dancefloor and all the girls on my right start screaming. It's so high pitched I cringe.

"What the fuck guys?" I shout, trying to focus on the music.

"Woah, that's Spider-Man!" says my date. He grabs my chin and makes me look in his direction.

No way, I think. It's actually him.

I know he lives in the area, but I've never met him before. It's always weird to see movie stars in real life. They look so much more attractive.

He is so much more attractive.

I try not to be a drunk fangirl and shyly wave to him. He doesn't notice.

"You wanna go and take a picture with him?" my date asks.

"Oh, no, no!" I answer. I'm blushing. "I don't even know what I'd tell him."

He laughs.

The worst thing that could happen is to annoy him during a night out. He needs privacy and I must respect it.

But it's so difficult.

I can't stop staring at him. I don't even control it. Being drunk doesn't help.

"D'you want a beer?" I ask my date whose name I completely forgot.

He nods.

I weave my way through the crowd. I can't believe there are so many people on the dancefloor. The area is so busy since the Spider-Man actor walked in.

Even the bar area is crowded.

I let my body rest against a barstool but quickly lose balance and almost fall on the dirty floor. The flickering lights are making me feel dizzy. I grip the counter and get up. I peer around to make sure nobody saw me.

He did.

I dust off my dress trying to save the dignity I have left.

"Want something?" someone asks behind me. I turn around, it's the barman.

"Two pints of Guinness, please."

I glance back at the same spot, but he's gone. It must've been a dream. I'm so drunk I can't trust everything I think I see.

I'm grabbing both my drinks and look around trying to find my date, but there are too many people. I take a sip of my beer and hold the other one above my head.

Someone hits my arm.

Oh no.

"Oh my God I'm so sorry!" yells the drunk blond girl.

I look at my dress. It's soaking wet. I politely smile at her. "It's okay," I mouth.

What a mess. I glance at the lavatory door. I need to go and save my dress.

"You haven't been lucky here."

I turn around to find out who's talking to me.

It's him. Tom Holland. Talking to me.

"What?" is all I manage to say.

"Do you need a hand?" he politely asks.

I blush so much it's noticeable in the dark.

I'm choking. I'm panicking.

I give him my two beers and walk towards the lavatory. I'm surely starstruck. And drunk. This isn't a good mix.

Once in the room, I grab a handful of tissues and try to soak up my dress. I groan. Did I expect to make that beer mark disappear? Yes. Did it work? Of course not.

I watch my face in the mirror.

I look like shit, I think.

A door slams shut. Two young girls just walked in.

"OH, MY G—THAT'S TOM HOLLAND!" shouts one. They are both panting.

I roll my eyes.

Oh . . . I've given him my beers. What about my date?

"Shit!" I hiss.

I violently open the door and frown my eyebrows as the lights blind me.

He's just here gazing at me. Two beers in his hands. One of them is half empty, the rest being displayed on my dress.

"I'm so sorry!" I say embarrassed as ever.

He smirks. "No worries." He hands me the full glass of beer.

I give him a questioning look as I grab it. What about the other one? Oh, right—He's drinking it.

"What's your na—"

I stop him.

"I know who you are." I peer down. "I'm sorry I didn't wanna disturb you" I say as I'm walking away.

This time I'm smart enough to avoid the crowd on my way out.

"That's rude to leave without saying goodbye!" Tom shouts from a distance.

I turn around and stare at him. He's got a soft smile; he doesn't look drunk at all. I wave him goodbye.

Now, he's approaching me.

"I meant to your boyfriend" he nods in the direction of my date who was dancing with a group of other people.

"He's not my—" is all I can say before he chuckles.

"I figured."

"How?" I clench my jaw. I'm hypnotised by his hand running through his hair. And his smile. And his lips.

"I can barely hear you," he points at a booth in the corner of the room "maybe we could sit there" he suggests.

My mouth softens into a smile.

It's difficult to walk with Tom Holland. Every couple of seconds he's stopped by fans requesting a picture. And he accepts every time.

I'd never be so patient.

"What's that?" he asks.

"It must be so annoying sometimes." I tell him as I sit on the booth.

"When they're nice and ask me, it's cool." He chooses to sit next to me. I can feel his arm touching mine. My heart is racing. He uses his other arm to hold his chin; he looks at me with so much intensity. Sometimes peering down my lips.

His face is so close, but he keeps talking. I can feel his breath on my skin. I'm going to burst into flames. "But when they're taking pictures without asking first, that's delicate."

I nod. I can't really listen to what he's talking about. I'm trying not to lose control.

"So, what's your name?"

He smiles when I tell him. "Why did you leave your date alone?" he asks.

I'm so nervous I stutter. I can't find my words. "I . . . I wasn't in the mood. He knows it. I shouldn't have come here."

"I'm happy you came." He says looking me in the eyes.

I raise my eyebrows. "Are you flirting with me?"

He barks out a laugh and breaks the eye contact. He rests his head on the wall behind us.

He isn't as confident as I thought he'd be. I don't know what's up with him, but I enjoy it.

I suddenly remember he's a movie star. He's always being watched. I glance at the crowd and see flashing lights. They're taking pictures of us.

I'm getting dizzier.

I don't want to see my face on a dumb article talking about Tom Holland's mysterious partner. I don't even know him.

"This is stupid" I mumble.

Tom is intrigued. He hasn't got a clue what I'm talking about. He hasn't even noticed the fans stalking him.

"I'm sorry, I gotta go" I abruptly say as I stand up. "Have a good night."

I grab my phone and leave the venue. I'm upset because I really wish I could've met him in a different context. I open my Uber app: there's no driver available.

Shit.

How's that even possible on a Friday night? In London?

I refresh the app, but it doesn't work. I guess I'll have to walk home.

A part of me wants to go back in this bar and spend time with Tom. He's sweet and I'm sure we would've had so much fun together. I glance through the window trying to see his face one last time, but I can't find him.

"What are you looking for?"

I cringe.

"Oh, sorry I didn't mean to startle you."

It's him. It's Tom.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

"Going home too. The fun of the party is leaving . . ." he sighs. I smile back at him. I'm embarrassed.

I stand in front of him, none of us say a word. It's awkward. I'm getting anxious and walk away. I'm so overwhelmed.

He grabs my shoulder. "Wait, are you walking home?"

"Yeah, it's okay don't worry." I smile.

"I can drive you home."

"Sorry, but you've been drinking. I won't let you drive me." I curtly say.

He grins. He looks at one of his mates and nods.

"No way I'm letting you walk home alone," he sighs "besides, you're drunk."

"Come with me then" I instantly reply without thinking.

He nods.

What?

He's coming with me. My heart is racing. I won't survive a 30-minute drunk walk with him.

Not with his beautiful glossy eyes staring at me.

Not with my burning desire to kiss him.

#tom holland #London lights fic #Tom Holland one shot #tom holland fiction #Tom Holland imagine #Tom Holland x reader

75 notes · View notes

helloalycia · 3 years

Text

the real kara // kara danvers

summary: Kara gets affected by red kryptonite, but you don't know this, so to you, she just comes across really obnoxious and makes you uncomfortable

warning/s: i mean, i guess unwanted/uncomfortable advances?

author's note: this has been requested for a very long time now, so i hope it's okay! i’m still working on some wanda stuff, don’t worry x

masterlist | wattpad

Something was different with Kara Danvers today, and as I waited for my files to finish photocopying, I watched her from a distance, wondering what it could be.

Apart from the obvious, which was that she was wearing completely different clothing – a tight dress that was very different compared to her usual assortment of blouses and cardigans – she had a completely different aura about her.

One of the things I liked about her the most was her awkwardness, her humour and her clumsiness. She was adorable, the human embodiment of a puppy, but today she just... exuded confidence. Of course, that wasn't a bad thing, but it was just very unlike her.

As I returned my attention to the photocopier, I failed to hear the girl in question approaching me. Only when she appeared next to me did I notice her. The fact that she came out of nowhere made me jump, startled by both her presence and the fact that I had a giant crush on her so any attention from the blonde was near enough sending me into cardiac arrest.

"I did not mean to startle you," she said, leaning against the wall with a smirk. "Though, you're cute when you're scared."

Heat creeped up my neck as I looked back down to the photocopier. Did she just say that? Never before had she obviously flirted with me – I didn't even think she liked me like that – so I didn't know what to do other than stay quiet.

"You know, I've been feeling your eyes on me all day," she noted, and I suddenly felt embarrassed as her blue eyes watched me with amusement. "C'mon, Y/N. You're really not gonna give me any attention now that I want it?"

Swallowing hard, I looked up to see her watching me with a knowing smile.

"I wasn't staring," I defended terribly. "Just looking around. You happened to be in my eye-line is all."

She grinned. "Really? Well, I'd quite like to be in your eye-line a lot more if you'd let me."

Taken aback, I raised my eyebrows. "Er– I– er–"

"Look, I actually came here to ask you something," she said, straightening up and moving to stand behind me, looking over my shoulder at the photocopies in my hand. "As fun as it is watching you make a mess of yourself, which I completely get by the way, I wanted to ask if you'd go on a date with me tonight."

My mouth went dry as her breath tickled my neck. Never in my year and a half of working alongside Kara had I seen her act so cocky and confident and certain. I wasn't sure if I liked it.

"Don't stay silent on me now, Y/N," she said, her voice sweet and sultry in my ear, sending shivers down my spine. "I only want to give you a good time."

I widened my eyes a little, glancing her way. She chuckled when she saw my expression, her hand resting on the small of my back as she stepped beside me.

"Not like that," she said dismissively, before her eyes looked me up and down. "Unless you want to go down that route... in which case I'm all ears."

Cheeks flushed and heart racing, I collected my photocopies and straightened up, feigning some form of assertiveness as I met her teasing smile and dark eyes.

"I don't know what's gotten into you today, Kara, but it's not appropriate," I told her, thankfully not trembling under her piercing stare. "I– just– don't speak to me."

Without another word from either of us, I pushed past her and stormed off, partially angry and partially upset that she had treated me so... so... sleazily. Kara was sweet, she was kind, she was thoughtful. Whoever that was back there wasn't the Kara I fell for. And she certainly wasn't one I wanted to get to know.

—

The next day, it was as if a switch had been flicked and regular Kara was back. I didn't understand how or what had happened to her, but as soon as I saw her stumble out of the elevator that morning, coffees in hand and hair dishevelled from rushing, I knew whoever was present yesterday was gone. But that still didn't change the fact that she'd treated me so wrongly.

I was sat at my desk, working on an article at my computer, when I saw a smudge of pink in my peripheral. Turning to look who it was, I frowned when I saw Kara approaching me, eyes apologetic and hands fumbling by her side. She was wearing a pink jumper over her blouse – back in her usual outfits, clearly.

As I turned to look the other way, not in the mood to talk to her, she stepped forward quickly.

"Y/N, please hear me out," she said, but I rolled my eyes in response, hoping she'd get the hint. She didn't. "I'm so sorry for the things I said to you yesterday."

I clenched my jaw, but my hands stopped typing as I looked down at the keyboard patiently.

"I was having a very... off day yesterday. And I know that's no excuse for how I treated you, but I'm so sorry." She paused, swallowing hard, before shaking her head. "I'm so sorry for making you feel uncomfortable. I'd never want that."

Unable to stop myself, I looked up to her. She seemed genuine, lips pulled into a frown and eyes tinged with sadness.

"If you wanted to ask me out, why would you go about it like that?" I asked, disappointedly. "In what world would I respond to something like that?"

She looked up, helpless, as she shrugged her shoulders. "I... I don't know. I just– I thought I would try something different. But I never meant for it to happen like that. You have to believe me."

I wanted to, but then the discomfort from yesterday's conversation returned and I was forced to look away from her.

"I did want to ask you out on a date though," she said quietly, hesitantly, as if afraid to say it at all. "Properly. If you want to go with me, that is."

Looking down to my desk, unintentionally coldly, I said, "If old Kara had asked me, then maybe I would have said... I'm not really sure I like this new Kara."

She paused, and I finally lifted my gaze to see she was nodding slowly, already taking a step back and avoiding my eyes.

"Right, yeah, of course," she spoke gently. "I understand." Forcing a small smile my way, she said, "Sorry, again. I'll, er, I'll see you around."

I watched her leave, noticing the way she mumbled to herself and clenched her fists as she did. I wondered if I'd made the right decision.

—

It was two days later when I got the bouquet at my desk after lunch. I wasn't expecting anything of the sorts, so of course, I eagerly found the card and read it in my head whilst ignoring my coworkers' curious stares.

Hey, Y/N.

Just wanted to apologise once again. And no, this isn't me asking you out. It's just a way to say sorry for acting like an idiot. I hope we can still remain friends. Or at least, I hope you don't hate me.

Kara x

Lowering the card, I looked at the bouquet of fresh flowers, heart aching in my chest. Over the past two days, the blonde-haired assistant had kept her distance from me, opting to stay away and avoid my presence, no doubt for my own comfort. Whenever I'd catch her gaze in the hallway or accidentally, she'd smile sadly, apologetically, before looking away as quickly as she could.

She was still her usual self, the usual self before the other day that is. This made me think that maybe she really was just having an off day. And now that she'd gotten me these flowers... I really wanted to go on a date with Kara. The real Kara and not the overly-confident, obnoxious Kara.

I left to find her as soon as I could. She was sat at her desk outside of Miss Grant's office, writing on her tablet and heavily focused in whatever task she was doing.

As I approached her, I took note of the way she chewed on her lip and furrowed her brows with concentration, smiling to myself because that was the Kara I had fallen for. The Kara I missed.

"Hey," I said when stopping by her desk.

She looked up, eyebrows raising with surprise. "Y/N. Hi! Hi. What can I–? Do you–? Hi."

"I got your flowers," I cut straight to the point, surprised at how certain I sounded compared to my usual introverted, shy self. "And the card."

She stood up, hands fumbling with nervousness once again. Clearing her throat, she said, "I'm sorry if it was too far. I just wanted to make things right."

"I'll go on a date with you," I blurted, making her look up with wide eyes immediately. Breathing out slowly, I continued, "I'd like to go on a date with you. This you, though. Not the other you."

She nodded slowly, looking as if she was still letting my words sink in. Suddenly, a small smile tugged at her lips.

"I'd like that," she said softly. "Maybe we can pretend the other day never happened and start again?"

I returned her smile, nodding. "I'd like that."

#kara danvers imagine #supergirl imagine #supergirl x reader #kara danvers x reader #supergirl x you #kara danvers x you #melissa benoist #supergirl #kara danvers

238 notes · View notes

sorryimananti-romantic · 3 years

Text

Mist | Choi San | Chapter 2

Pairing: Choi San x OC (Seohyun)

Genre: supernatural (ghost), romance, high school

Trigger Warnings: paranormal, death mentions, violence

Words: 7.2k

Disclaimer: I do not own anything except my original character and the story. I do not own any gifs or pictures used.

Full story on Wattpad (don’t spoil here if you read there too)

chapter directory

-----------

A few paranormally uneventful days passed. Seohyun hadn't exactly opened up to the group of boys that she was now able to call friends, but she was slowly getting there. It was hard not to smile when one of them cracked a silly joke, and harder not to laugh when they had a battle of wits.

She was slowly getting used to her new school. She was past the stage of being a new kid and the students in her class had stopped giving her those looks. She was unnoticed, and she loved it.

Today, like every other morning, Seohyun got ready for school, tying her hair in a half ponytail, peeking out of the window to check if she should wear her glasses or cap today. She had to hide her eyes somehow, they always betrayed her. She didn't want anyone to think she liked to stare into the space. But then she shrugged and tossed her glasses in the bag, wearing her cap as she went to the kitchen.

Her mother was a very busy woman and she liked to spend almost all her day in her office. She was rarely home even if she had a day off anyway. So Seohyun just made herself some coffee, munching on some cookies as she waited for the coffee to become cool enough to drink.

"I still don't get why you let the housemaid go," Jiwoo popped out of nowhere and twirled around the kitchen.

"Well, I didn't entirely let her 'go'. She still comes by on the weekends, you already know that."

"But still! What's wrong with having food everyday?" Jiwoo pushed her dark red hair back as she tsk-ed at Seohyun.

"For one, I wanted to learn to cook, and the food she made was always too much for just me. I always had to throw it out or give it to someone before it went bad. Mom's never home to eat anyway."

"I actually hate your mom, no offence," Jiwoo looked at her and Seohyun shook her head, "I mean, what kind of a mother is she?"

"A woman married to her work with an abnormal child, I kind of understand why she's like this," Seohyun muttered.

"Nah, you're not abnormal. You're gifted. And you don't appreciate it enough."

"No offence, unnie, but ghosts are the company I'd rather not have," Seohyun rinsed her cup and placed it on the rack, taking her school bag and locking the door.

"What's wrong with me?" Jiwoo asked.

"You're one of the better ones, but only because you had temporary amnesia before you died and you still don't know who exactly you are and why you're a ghost!" Seohyun snorted at the weirdness of all this.

"You think I'd ever be able to recall? Or just be stuck with you forever?" Jiwoo asked.

"I'd rather you try to move around and find out who you are instead of making me look like I talk to myself."

"Ah, you pain me, child. It's all because you have new friends now and don't care about me anymore. Right, catto?"

The black cat, which Seohyun hadn't noticed earlier, meowed in response.

"And, here comes the pretty one," Jiwoo grinned and Seohyun looked in her direction to find San coming their way.

"Pretty one? Seriously?" Seohyun shook her head.

"I mean, they're all pretty, but I like this kid more-"

"Hey," San gave her a smile as he meowed to the cat, who gladly jumped in San's arm when he put them forward.

"This little-" Seohyun stopped, and San laughed. "She never comes when I ask!"

"She likes me more, it seems," San rubbed her forehead and she purred, and they walked in comfortable silence to school the rest of the way.

They almost reached the gates of the school but something Seohyun saw from the corner of her eye made her stop in her tracks.

It was a ghost, yet it was something else. It wasn't someone who had died recently for sure. The man, the ghost if you could call it that, was bitter.

"You okay?" San asked, looking in the direction Seohyun was looking in. To him, it seemed she was looking at a wall.

"Yeah, I-I'm okay. Why don't you go ahead? I'll be right back. I should take her too," Seohyun picked the cat from San's hand, "We don't want her roaming around the school and getting scared, do we now?"

San raised a suspicious brow at her, but nodded as he reluctantly went in.

The man tried approaching Seohyun first, but she motioned him to follow her and went to the backside of the school, where surely there would be very few people walking by at this time.

"State your business," Seohyun said, and the man actually looked taken aback, if his eyes could display some emotion.

Truth be told, Seohyun was always scared dealing with men ghosts and older ghosts in general. Since ghosts could touch her, they were as much of a threat to her as humans. And these old ghosts, the ones with skin that looked grey, almost as if the ghost had started decomposing too, were usually not in their right mind.

"I have waited decades to find the mediator," the man's eyes gleamed rather wickedly.

"Mediator?" Seohyun asked. A rather fancy term for someone who could see the dead. "And why did you have to wait decades?"

"Let's say the mediator supposed to sort my death out met with rather... unfortunate circumstances," the man cleared his throat but his voice was still hoarse as he said, "You have to come with me."

"Well, if you waited decades, can you wait a few more hours? I have school, and please do NOT disturb me during my class," Seohyun made sure her tone was polite as she said this, but the man grunted. Before he could try anything, she muttered an awkward bye and walked swiftly to the gates, letting the cat go. She didn't realize she'd been holding the cat for comfort.

San, who had just witnessed Seohyun talking to thin air from the other side of the road, sighed loudly as he walked slowly to the gates.

San hadn't meant to follow her, but he turned around after a few steps of walking to the building, hoping to offer to come along with her, but when he saw her stop in the middle of the road and look as if she was actually talking to someone, he paused. He knew he shouldn't, but he watched her. And he did not know what to make of it.

Was Seohyun crazy? Didn't look like it. If she was, she did a damn good job at hiding it. When San finally reached class, he saw Seohyun chatting with Jongho. Perfectly normal. Or was she?

San said nothing as he sat in his spot, but he felt her tap his shoulder. He turned around and she asked, "I thought you went to class, where were you roaming around?"

San stared at her light brown orbs, coming out of the trance when she blinked. "I just wanted to walk around a bit."

He saw her frown but then she nodded and went back to chatting with Jongho. San turned back in his seat, and throughout the classes, he kept wondering if that was the reason why she covered her face or eyes.

When school ended, Seohyun said she had to go somewhere and said bye. San made an excuse too and started to follow her. He was going to see for himself, what she was gonna do.

San knew it was impolite to do this. And he knew if she found out, she'd really be angry with him, maybe never talk to him again. This was supposed to be her secret for sure. She would probably never tell any one of them. He wasn't even sure what it was.

Seohyun led him to an abandoned warehouse, and he heard her say, "Why bring me here?"

She paused for a few second, looking around as if for help, and San ducked quickly behind the boxes before she could see her. He couldn't hear her now, but he did get bits about how it was creepy of 'him' to bring her to this place without warning her, and he didn't miss how she kept looking behind her, as if she was waiting for someone to appear or just didn't want to keep doing this.

Who was this 'him'? Her imaginary friend? A ghost? San shook his head, and got on his feet when he noticed her go inside the warehouse.

San crept up behind them, and couldn't believe what he saw.

The locked door somehow unlocked, somehow the chains fell and the door magically opened wide in front of her, without Seohyun having even moved a finger.

What was happening?

Seohyun was asked to come in the warehouse and she couldn't ignore the roaring of her gut that told her something was going to go really, really wrong. She had such a strong feeling some years ago too, and she had barely gotten away from her life then.

All her nerves screamed at her to run, anywhere, just not go in. Where was Jiwoo when she needed her? Seohyun was kind of furious how she was never there for her.

Seohyun watched the old man walk in, looking around, and before she entered, she turned her head once hoping she would see Jiwoo-

Instead, she felt her heart sink as she saw none other than San, attempting to hide as their eyes met.

"Come in now, don't keep me waiting," the man grumbled, and Seohyun shouted an okay to him before she looked at San, hoping to warn him with her eyes as she put a finger to her mouth, telling him not to make a sound and motioning him to stay where he was.

Seohyun went inside, her heart slamming against her chest. This wasn't supposed to happen. San must think she's crazy or worse. Her mind made a mental list of how many ways this could go wrong.

"I used to think mediators ran in the family. But the one who was supposed to help me, he did not have any offspring. I spent so many years in ignorance, not knowing that it was completely random. Just like god picking up a needle in the haystack."

"Cut to the chase. What do you want with me and why bring me here?"

"I have forgotten why I died. And I want to move on. But I can't because I don't remember why I am still here. Someone told me there were various other ways to move on... Let's say I had to try."

As soon as Seohyun saw the growing smirk on the man, she knew it was time to run the hell away. But several bottles came flying at her, and she barely dodged them as they crashed on the wall next to her.

"You don't have to do this! It's wrong! I help dead people move on, there must be a way other than stupid violence-"

But the man waved another hand and now the boxes came flying at her. She was grabbed by the arm and pulled against someone, and she sighed in both relief and horror as she saw it was San.

"Are you stupid! You'll get hurt!" She yelled at him. He just took her hand and ran towards the shelves, hoping to hide from whatever it was that sent flying objects in the air. He almost dragged her until he was sure he was quite away from whatever it was.

"What the hell is happening?" San asked through his teeth.

"Why did you even follow me? Are you stupid?"

"Who is it?" San's grip on her wrist tightened as his eyes searched around.

"It's a ghost, San. Do you believe me?" Seohyun asked, waiting for a snide remark.

"From what I've seen? Sure," San muttered, and Seohyun wasn't sure if he was being sarcastic.

"He's near. Let's move," Seohyun said, and this time, she grabbed San's hand as she led him through the various shelves that lined the warehouse, glad they weren't empty.

A blast shocked them, making them jump in the air as they realized the shelves were collapsing one by one.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Seohyun ran, San matching her pace and she ran her eyes around, finally finding a place to hide. It was a narrow passage between huge containers. Seohyun looked at her options. The man was blocking the entrance so now they could just hide and pray for help or... die. If that's the worst that was to come.

Seohyun dragged San with her to the narrow passage, both of them barely fitting in the small dark place. Now they were side to side but San's body was still half out, so Seohyun pulled him closer, until he was almost in front of him. Since the passage was so narrow and short, there wasn't much gap between them.

San was a bundle of nerves and all, his heart beating wildly. "What's going on-"

"Shh," Seohyun whispered, putting a hand on his mouth to shut him up, "I'll explain everything later, I promise."

San nodded, taking off her hand from his mouth but not leaving it. Seohyun was too busy concentrating on where the man was to notice it. He saw her wince, and she looked at San with apologetic eyes.

"If something happens to us, I'm sorry, San. I'll do my best to save you. The man-the ghost is after me. I don't know why," Seohyun sighed, and San squeezed her hand assuringly.

"I'm with you. Nothing will happen," he whispered, thinking he must sound stupid to say that. But it must have given her some sort of assurance. She put her head on San's chest, sighing again.

The two of them heard the sounds of things getting destroyed alright, Seohyun hearing the man as well, and Seohyun almost cried in relief as she heard Jiwoo whisper her name.

"I can teleport you, but what about him-"

"Either we both go, or we both stay," Seohyun said firmly. She wasn't going to leave him alone.

"Go where?" San asked. Seohyun told him her friend was here and she could help.

Jiwoo looked at Seohyun and a slow grin appeared on her face. "There is something I could try..."

"What?" Seohyun narrowed her eyes at Jiwoo.

"What if I teleport you, but you're still holding San? Would he come with us?"

"I don't know, unnie..." Seohyun trailed, but an idea stuck to her. "It's the same as when I have something with me right? A bag, a cap, something. But that's objects. What about actual humans?"

"Remember when we accidentally teleported our cat once? It was holding on to you and you had forgotten. What if this works?"

Seohyun bit her lip. It was worth a try. "If it doesn't work, promise me we'll come back to San right then."

"But your body can't handle too many teleportations-"

"Promise me," Seohyun insisted, and Jiwoo rolled her eyes as she nodded. "Hurry up, he's closer."

"San, listen to me carefully," Seohyun said. "You know what teleportation is, right?"

San wanted to ask her if now was really the time, but he said yes- from the movies, and she continued, "I'm gonna attempt to teleport you along with me. My friend is gonna do that. You have to trust me."

"No way," San muttered, sighing deeply.

"Yes, you were stupid and brave enough to follow me, so yes, we are teleporting. I've done it before, but I've never teleported someone... normal with me, so this might not work. So if I disappear, and you're here all alone, I promise you, San, that I'll be back within a minute, okay?"

"How am I supposed to make sense of all you're saying?" San's eyes were helpless.

"Just... trust me. I won't leave you alone. I promise. Now, I have to, er, hold you, so she can teleport us. Gotta make sure I take you with me..."

Seohyun heard Jiwoo snicker, and she passed her a death glare. San, tempted to roll his eyes, held her hands.

"I'm afraid I'll have to hold you tighter. You see, when we teleport, we tend to lose what we're not holding tightly..."

"Oh..." San left her hands, and Seohyun muttered 'here goes nothing' as she wrapped her arms around San's waist, surprised that it was so small.

"Hold me tightly, and no matter what, do not let me go, you understand?"

"Yes ma'am," San said as he bent down to place his chin on her shoulder and bring her closer. "This okay?"

"Yes," Seohyun realized she was holding her breath, so she said, "Take a deep breath, San."

San did so, and Jiwoo smirked a little, watching two scared children hug each other. She came forward, holding Seohyun only, and did her magic.

San felt his stomach twist and turn, saw a million colourful stars, almost got nauseous but his only comfort was Seohyun so he held her tighter and shut his eyes. He didn't open them again until he landed on hard ground, his back aching with the impact.

He opened his eyes and saw... nothing.

He wasn't sure if he was blind or not, but he looked down and saw Seohyun half on top of him, attempting to get up, and he realized he had his vision all right.

"Where the hell," Seohyun got up, "are we?"

"I guess your body could only attempt a half trip," Jiwoo said, and San instantly turned at the voice, making eye contact with the red haired girl.

"That's the ghost friend that teleported us?" San asked Seohyun.

"You can see her!?" Seohyun asked, and San looked at Jiwoo.

"I wasn't supposed to see her, was I?" He raised his brow, and Seohyun looked at Jiwoo.

"Hey, kid, nice to officially meet you," Jiwoo said, holding out a hand to him so he could stand up. San tried to take it, but his hand passed through Jiwoo's hand, and he gasped.

"I guess you can only see then," Seohyun bit her lip as she looked around. "Is this where ghosts come when they... move on?"

"That's where I come when I'm not on planet Earth," Jiwoo said, "It's like another plane, you could say, another dimension overlapping ours, except this one is for ghosts."

"What now? Should we try again?" Seohyun asked, coughing a bit.

"You should take a breather first. Your body can't handle it," Jiwoo nodded at her and Seohyun sat down on the ground, putting her head over her knees as she brought them closer, shivering a little. Jiwoo was right, something was happening to her. Like a cold coming to her.

"Is she okay?" San asked Jiwoo, and she shrugged. San ran his fingers through his hair as he looked around, finding no source of light that illuminated the area around them.

So Seohyun wasn't crazy. Somehow, though it made no sense, she could see ghosts, she could touch them. San looked at Jiwoo and opened his mouth to ask something, but then thought against it. Now was not the time.

"I know you have a lot of questions," Jiwoo commented, "Let's try to get out of here first before we have the talk."

"Has she... ever brought someone here?" San asked.

"This is the first time she came here too," Jiwoo said, "Usually when a ghost teleports her, it's quick and efficient. Much like you see in movies or books."

"We should get out of this place quick. I don't want him to come find us here," Seohyun said, getting up.

"Are you sure you're okay? Can you make it back?" Jiwoo asked.

"I have to," Seohyun said.

Jiwoo nodded, and Seohyun looked at San for permission. San came forward and they both held each other tight as Jiwoo attempted to teleport them again.

This time, they landed on soft grass, but the impact with which they did sent them rolling a bit. San's breath was knocked out of him and he coughed loudly, gasping for breath. As soon as he recovered, he looked for Seohyun-

Seohyun was bent rather awkwardly, and it looked like she wasn't moving. San and Jiwoo both rushed to her, straightening her body. Jiwoo checked if she was breathing.

"She is breathing. She must have collapsed from being tired, don't worry, it's happened before too," Jiwoo assured him.

San sighed, looking up at the sky, wondering what he had gotten himself into. He looked around, finding the place familiar.

"Is this... the park near our school?" San asked Jiwoo.

"Yes, I tried to teleport us as close to Seohyun's home as possible, but looks like we could only make it till here."

"What if someone had seen us appear out of thin air?"

Jiwoo laughed. "They'd probably run for their lives. You'd be aliens."

San smiled a little at that. That's exactly what he would have thought if he had seen Seohyun.

"So are you... Seohyun's friend?" San finally asked.

"You could say that. I'm older than her so she always calls me unnie, but I keep telling her to call me Jiwoo."

"Then I'll call you noona," San smiled, making Jiwoo grin.

"She helps ghosts move on. When someone dies and they have unfinished business that they just can't leave behind, they sometimes choose to become ghosts until they get done with that. Seohyun helps them do that."

"That must be hard..." San wondered if it was always as bad as this time.

"It is, but what happened today is not a common occurrence. The man she saw today, he's been dead for a good while and has forgotten his purpose here. I once heard the other ghosts talk about him too. Ghosts like that, you have to avoid them. They're bitter, and usually mean Seohyun harm."

"So now... I can see you, does that mean I'll be able to see other ghosts too?"

"You'll find out soon," Jiwoo said.

Seohyun woke up with a gasp, her eyes wide. Jiwoo helped her sit up, and Seohyun muttered 'water'. San quickly opened Seohyun's bag and fished out her bottle, which she drank hungrily from, some water spilling down her chin as well.

"Slow down, kid," Jiwoo patted her back. Seohyun emptied the whole bottle, wiping her chin, then felt something run down her nose.

"Nosebleed. Do you have tissues?" Jiwoo asked and Seohyun shrugged, looking upwards and holding her nose. Jiwoo searched through her bag but San took out a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Seohyun.

"Does this usually happen?" San asked.

"No... it's the first time," Jiwoo admitted. Seohyun nodded too. "When we accidentally teleported the cat with her, she became dehydrated, but that was it."

Seohyun wiped her nose, looking at Jiwoo and she gave her a thumbs up.

"I shouldn't have followed you..." San shook his head, "It's because of me that-"

"You shouldn't have, but I'm kind of glad you did. Jiwoo is unreliable as a ghost friend and who knows what would have happened to me if you were not there? I could have died," Seohyun said nonchalantly.

"HEY!" Jiwoo smacked her arm but Seohyun ignored her.

"But look at you-" San was cut by Seohyun putting her hand up and saying, "I need food, and I mean NOW."

A few minutes later, they were watching Seohyun hungrily gulp down noodles and fried chicken. San had stopped eating midway just to watch her eat with a speed he hadn't ever seen before.

"Are you sure you're even chewing?" He asked, and Seohyun glared at him.

"The food is not going anywhere, Seohyun, slow down," Jiwoo laughed, "seeing you eat like this is making me wish I could eat too."

"Okay, mom," Seohyun said, finally slowing down. They ate the rest of the food silently, then Seohyun decided she'd like some coffee. They decided to walk her home as she sipped on her coffee and answered San's questions.

"Have you ever told anyone?" San asked first.

"Never. My mom only knows because she's, well, my mom and it's weird when a little kid sees stuff nobody else does."

"And what has she done about this?" San wasn't sure if he should have asked this.

Seohyun sighed, "She tried to 'help' me, but then she decided avoiding me was the best way. So now she's married to her work."

"And your dad?"

"He's never been here in the first place."

"Oh..." San faltered, but saw Seohyun shrug. "You can ask me anything, San. You deserve an explanation. Don't hesitate."

"Why can you see ghosts?"

"I don't know that either," Seohyun smiled as she looked at the sky. "Born this way?"

"Would you have ever told us?" San asked. Seohyun stopped walking at that, and faced him.

"To be honest, I've never made friends, San, because of this reason. That someone would find out. They'd never believe me, they'd think I'm crazy. So I don't know if I would have told you guys, ever," Seohyun paused, "But you found out, and you witnessed everything. What do you think?"

San scratched his neck. "I think you're right. I don't think any of us would have believed you. We'd have dismissed it as a joke. But now that I did see everything... It's different now. I hope you understand that."

"You sure you don't want to, I don't know, ever talk to me and all?"

San smiled. "You think I'd abandon my friend just like that?"

Seohyun couldn't help but stare at San, his sharp eyes that grew warmer every time he smiled, how they slightly curved.

"I want you to know that if it was anyone of us, and they had seen what I had seen, they would have never abandoned you. We don't take our friendships lightly."

"That's... good to hear," Seohyun finally smiled. "Do you think they'd believe us if we tell them?"

"They'd need some convincing, but yes, they would. Do you want to tell them?"

"Not yet," Seohyun said, "When the time is right."

San nodded, and squeezed her hand. "If you're ever in danger, you tell me, okay? If you need anyone, or anything, you tell me, got it? You don't have to face this alone anymore."

Seohyun almost cried right there, but she held it back, squeezing his hand back and nodding. They walked a few minutes until she finally reached home.

"Thank you, San. For everything." Seohyun smiled at him, and this time it was a true smile. San was actually taken aback. It felt like she had truly smiled for the first time, unfiltered.

"Anytime," San managed to say, and watched her go in. He took a deep breath, trying to shake off the image of Seohyun smiling, but found himself smiling too.

Meanwhile, Seohyun collapsed as soon as she entered, and she allowed herself to cry, both happy and sad tears, happy that someone finally understood her, and sad that it hadn't happen earlier. Jiwoo sat down with her, silently rubbing her back.

----------------

Seohyun almost slept in the next day, only woken up for school when Jiwoo threw her off the bed for 'sleeping like a sloth'. She couldn't exactly blame her. Seohyun had been so tired that after crying her heart out, she'd only had the energy to change before she collapsed on her bed and slept without moving an inch.

"My whole body hurts like I did some major workout," Seohyun mumbled as she tried running towards school, but gave up. She'd just walk.

"I don't recall you having such after effects after a teleportation," Jiwoo wondered.

"When it's just me, I'm only drained a bit. Like running. But even when I took the cat accidentally, my head hurt a lot. This time it was a whole human."

"Maybe because they aren't meant to be there," Jiwoo shrugged, meowing at the cat who appeared out of nowhere as usual. "Sometimes I think you might have transferred this teleportation thing to your cat too."

"Except 'I' can't teleport. You ghosts can," Seohyun corrected. She'd be lying if she said she hadn't tried teleporting herself home from school. How cool would that have been?

Jiwoo picked the cat and quickly passed it to Seohyun so no one would witness a flying cat. Seohyun draped her over her shoulder so Jiwoo could play with her. As they were walking, they saw San standing in a corner. He waved, then joined them.

"Hi noona," he said, and Jiwoo tried poking San but her hand went through him.

"I guess you can still only see," Jiwoo shook her head, continuing to pet the cat.

"You can touch the cat? And she sees you?" San asked, curiously watching them.

"Ever since we accidentally teleported her, I can touch her. But I'm pretty sure she could see me before too. All cats can, I think."

"Interesting..."

"Were you... waiting for us or something?" Seohyun finally asked.

"I was. I couldn't sleep last night, truth be told. I kept thinking about what happened. In fact, I'm surprised I didn't freak out..."

"I'm more surprised about that," Seohyun admitted.

"Meanwhile Seohyun here slept as soon as she reached home and I had to wake her up for school too," Jiwoo flipped her hair dramatically. Seohyun scoffed at that.

"You must be very tired... Are you okay?" San asked.

Seohyun nodded, and before she could say something they heard someone calling their names. It was Wooyoung and Yeosang. They joined them, Wooyoung putting his arm over San's shoulder as he said, "You're early today. You usually come in last minute."

"I woke up early today," San said casually, his eyes darting towards Seohyun unconsciously. Yeosang noticed that, trying to stop the smile creeping on his mouth as he looked between Seohyun and San. Seohyun gave him a warning glare, one she made sure was strong enough.

As they waited for class to start, Seohyun was resting her head on the desk. She couldn't quite believe the fact that someone now knew who she was, and was not disgusted or freaked out by her. She couldn't stop wondering what the future would be like, what if this group of boys would really get her to warm up to them, and how they would react if they found out.

San turned around in his seat, a frown growing on his face as he noticed how tired she looked. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Just very, very tired," Seohyun sighed, lifting her head.

"What if the ghost-man comes here?" San asked.

"Oh. I'd totally forgotten about him..." Seohyun bit her lip, "Well, he knows better not to make a scene in front of people, so chances are he won't."

"Chances? That ghost was dangerous!" San hissed, "What if he does come here?"

"Jiwoo must be out on watch. She'd warn me." Seohyun said, and San looked a little relieved at that. "It's not like the ghost can hurt you, so don't worry."

San rolled his eyes. "I'm worried about you, stupid."

"Oh," Seohyun paused. "You don't have to. I'll be fine."

San tsk-ed at her, turning back in his seat. Seohyun stared at the back of his head. Yunho dragged his seat towards Seohyun as he said, "You both are getting along rather well."

"Well," Seohyun slumped back in her seat, "he keeps talking."

Yunho laughed at that, "He's been thinking of names for your cat too."

"I won't approve if I don't like it. He knows that, right?"

"I'll give a good name, don't worry," San turned back in his seat, having overheard the conversation.

"I don't have much expectations from you, to be honest," Seohyun said casually, tucking her hair behind her ear, "I think Jongho there could give a much better name. He looks like he actually uses his brain."

Yunho and San looked at each other and giggled at that. Her observation was true. Jongho was infamously known as the 'only braincell' of the group. Yunho told her that, which actually made her smile.

"See? I know how to spot the smart ones."

"Who do you think is the most dumb one out of us?" San asked, attempting to make puppy eyes so she won't pick him. Seohyun looked at each one of them slowly, then said, "I haven't talked to you all much, but Wooyoung looks like he doesn't really like to use his brain."

The pair of them laughed so loud at that, catching the rest of the boys' attention as Seohyun tried to shut them up. But they were in tears, slapping their thighs as they laughed.

"Can the both of you stop? San you're second dumbest, just so you know."

That just made them laugh harder. The boys slowly came to them, muttering how they wanted to know what was 'so funny that they were howling'.

"She thinks the smartest one of us is Jongho, and the dumbest is Wooyoung," Yunho finally explained.

Wooyoung was laughing at first until he realized and yelled "HEY!" Jongho giggled, looking satisfied.

"Your brain processing is just a bit slow, that's all. No offence," Seohyun muttered.

"I mean, she's not wrong..." Hongjoong made an impressed face.

"Where do I stand?" Mingi asked, "I'm the second smartest right?"

"From below, yes," Seohyun said, making them all laugh. They all insisted that she rank them, and then they'd tell her if she was right about this.

"I don't actually think you're dumb, okay? This is just a joke, don't take it seriously-"

"I know, we all know," Wooyoung assured her, smiling warmly, "carry on."

"...Okay," Seohyun hesitated a bit then started, "Hongjoong is smartest obviously but Jongho is quite smart too? He seems more mature. Then Yeosang or Seonghwa, San somewhere in the middle depending on how awake he is, not sure about Yunho, but Mingi and Wooyoung... well they're pretty close. Because they don't like using their brains..."

"Most of it is accurate," Hongjoong agreed, "Yunho is more lucky than smart."

"Ah.. must be nice to be god's favourite," Seohyun scoffed. "But hey, I like Mingi and Wooyoung. They make you all laugh. That's more important."

Mingi and Wooyoung clapped at that, finally approving.

------------

It was finally after school, when San insisted on accompanying her to her home so she would get there 'safe', that they encountered the old ghost right outside her house.

"Get behind me" San protectively pushed Seohyun behind her.

"I appreciate the gesture, San, but this won't work. Use your brain."

"Oh... Right," San scratched his head and Jiwoo, who had also been with them the entire time, stepped forward.

"We can talk this out like civil human beings and ghosts. Then you can decide if you really want to kill Seohyun."

"NOONA!" San shouted in disbelief but she dismissed him with a wave of her hand.

"Very touching, all this, but I agree, we can have a normal conversation," the old man said.

"How long have you been a ghost exactly?"

"So long that I have forgotten my purpose, girl," the ghost snickered. "I heard from some older ghosts that killing the mediator by our own hands would make us move on."

Seohyun saw San and Jiwoo both tense. "And you thought you'd check?"

The old man nodded. "The mediator before you... Some other ghost killed him. It was some sort of revenge. He was supposed to help me."

"I could help some other way, because killing me doesn't really sound like a solution to me... Like, think about it. It doesn't make sense."

"Are you sure you aren't saying that because you don't want to die yet?" The old man smirked.

"Oh please," Seohyun faked swagger, "If I had an option, I'd kill me too." San shook his head at her.

"Very well. I'll hear you out."

Seohyun explained that she knew an old shaman who helped ghosts with no purpose to move on. It took some convincing and death threats to Seohyun, but she finally made him realize that it might be his one and only option now, and that he should just 'stop being a pain and move the hell on'.

"If it turns out to be a scam, I promise I'll come for you, whether it helps me move on or not."

"Please do," Seohyun replied nonchalantly. The ghost signaled to Jiwoo and they disappeared.

San turned to see that Seohyun was now leaning against the wall, wiping sweat from her forehead as she sighed in relief. "Nice acting."

Seohyun looked at him once before drinking from her water bottle. She had noticed the disapproval in his voice. She stared at him when she was done, and he stared back for a good few seconds before he finally sighed loudly.

"How can you be so... stupid at times like these?"

"How was that stupid? I talked to him and poured sense into him. And it worked. I don't see the problem."

"Does your life mean nothing to you?" San asked.

"San, chill, it was just acting-"

"Those ghosts can touch you!" San was louder this time, making Seohyun flinch a little, "They can hurt you like any other human, hell, they can hurt you in worse ways than that! How can you be so relaxed when gambling with your life?!"

Seohyun watched as San ran a hand through his hair frustratingly, clearly holding himself back. His whole body was tense, his jaw was set and he was not having any of it.

"Are you done?" Seohyun asked, making sure it came out soft. San shook his head.

"I've been seeing ghosts my entire life. My mom took me to all sorts of people for help. You think I don't know how dangerous it is? I learned from the worst. And I'm old enough and experienced enough to know how to handle rogue ghosts like these. Trust me on that."

"I know you are, Seohyun," San admitted, "I just hate it when you talk about your life like it means nothing. Like you'd have no problem if something happened."

"Let's just say I haven't had something I'd like to live for yet," Seohyun said.

San locked eyes with her. "I'll make it change now."

"What?"

"There's so much to life. I know you haven't had the best life, but you have people you can rely on now. And I'll make sure you'll have something to live for."

"What do you live for?" Seohyun asked, curious.

San smiled. "My parents, my grandparents, my friends. And myself."

"Doesn't it... get too much? Living for all of them... must be hard. And boring."

"What's hard and boring is when I had nothing to live for," San said, "When life became repetitive, and I didn't really love anyone, including myself. But now... I have something to look forward to. And no matter if it gets hard, I'll have people to lean on. So ask yourself this, Seohyun. Is it hard living like me or is it hard living like you?"

San knew his words had crossed her, so he locked eyes with her for a second longer before he waved and left for home, leaving Seohyun wondering if she really had wasted all her life repelling people, and if it really had been a wise decision.

prev - next

62 notes · View notes

nessaxc · 3 years

Text

___________________________________

Hands Off || Gojo Satoru

You have a boyfriend, and Gojo isn't very happy about that because you're supposed to be his.

Rating: Mature

Words: 2.6k

Tags: Swearing, Pining, Angst, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Jealousy, Comfort, Feels

___________________________________

Gojo’s Pov

I watched them from a distance, and seeing the two of them together hurt like hell. She had told me the truth not long after they started dating, and the second she did I wanted to find that shithead and kill him.

He was making her laugh and smile more than I ever could, and it made me feel sick to my stomach. Whatever that little shit just said to her, I was willing to bet it wasn't even funny, not in the slightest.

Her eyes lit up with every word that he said and somewhere in the distance I could hear a heart fluttering. She was happy. I loved it when she was but because it wasn't with me, I started to loathe seeing her like that.

They were at a diner, on a date. Her boyfriend reached across the table and kissed her. That's when I had to leave. I adjusted my position from behind a wall, being careful so they wouldn't see me. I found myself stalking them more than I should have, but I couldn't help it. It was killing me inside and I still put myself through it every time.

I wanted this to end, my feelings for her. My brain throbbed as I kept it inside. I tried to rid of this unnecessary complication in my life. Though, it would always cower in remembrance and click a torch in the back of my skull, searching for a way out. Buried alive, it stayed in rest until the dirt became too cold, the silence too loud. It’s not as if I believe I can't find someone else, it’s that I no longer want to. She asks and I tell her no. She laughs and shakes her head, telling me that I will find someone one day. I violently disagree, I want to stomp my foot and yell at her for being so fucking stupid, for acting like it's so simple. I want to stop moving, I want her to stop moving. I told her that I can't. I just can't, no matter how much I needed to.

My lips and tongue burn with the sensation of even speaking those affectionate words to a future ‘someone’. I cannot. I will not. I won’t. It would kill me.

My mind keeps replaying the image of her head on my shoulder when I took her home one day. The scent of fruit. I wanted to kiss her head. I wanted to kiss her. She had dozed off then, it was likely she didn't know what she was doing. When her head moved away, my shoulder empty, just like the feeling in my chest. There were times when we were just talking, doing nothing in particular, and I would find myself staring at her lips, her heavily lidded eyelids, and thinking about how fucking perfect she was in every way. I just couldn't look away. I don't think she had the slightest idea of the hold she had on me and at first I thought that was the hardest part, but no, it wasn't.

The hardest part was seeing her talk about the fucker she called her boyfriend and how she wouldn't stop giggling when she mentioned his name or when she dared to ask me advice on what she should wear for him one night because she needed another guy's opinion. That lucky shithead. I couldn't bear to think about it, but it always managed to creep into my brain about what he probably did to her that night. Just the image of it made me want to kill him and only then would I be able to make peace with that thought.

I felt so sick one time that I nearly vomited when I thought about how I wished I was him, just so he could look at me in the same light. It made me want to kill him more. I knew one day that I would have to, that I would give into the urge, because he was so fucking despicable. He bore the same relevance as a piece of chewed-up gum becoming a part of the sidewalk, less even.

I remember the day that she introduced me to him, and I know I should have felt proud of myself for not killing him right then and there but I've never been more disappointed in myself than I was in that moment. I wouldn't do it right in front of her, no, I would do it the second I was alone with him, that way he knew exactly who he was dealing with before he was squirming on the floor, begging me to stop.

I had so much trouble just being her friend, so much that I couldn't do it anymore. One of her favorite subjects to talk about was that fucker and it became so hard to listen to that I nearly shouted at her to shut up. My mind was screaming, screaming with how much I needed it to end but thankfully I kept the voice at bay. I told her as gently as possible, through clenched teeth to stop because I was having a hard day, and that silenced her, making the rest of the day with her awkward and uncomfortable. Her voice was soothing and so sweet, and I could listen to it all day but not when it was about him, no I couldn't stomach it anymore.

We started to drift apart, little by little. We still spent time together, it was just different when we did. I found it difficult to look at her after a while, knowing that she wasn't mine. It wasn't fair. She thought she was happy with that shithead she called her boyfriend, but I knew that if she gave me a chance, I would treat her like a queen, make her feel like the luckiest girl alive. I wanted that chance. I needed it. It had to come someday.

Then one day, my wish came true. After months and months, my anguish finally ceased. She called me up one night sobbing, she was an utter mess, I could hardly understand her at first. She told me that she broke up with that shithead because she caught him cheating on her. I couldn't have been happier, the piece of shit did something right for once. In all his life, I bet that was the only notable thing he ever did. Everything was going to fall into place, I'd comfort her for as long as I needed, wipe those pathetic tears off her face and make her laugh, and in no time at all, she'd realize who she was supposed to be with.

I told her that I'd come over to her place so she could tell me everything and I already knew that I had to play the sympathetic friend. When she opened the door to me, her eyes were red and puffy, looking at me with tear-stained cheeks and I nearly said out loud, "Fuck it, that asshole is a goner," but I didn't. I had to wait out. I knew exactly what was going to happen when she fell asleep, there was no way I was going to let that shithead get away with this. I had never seen her so broken before, she was choking on her misery and almost all of her eye make up was trickling down her pretty face.

It was bittersweet. I loved that this asshole broke her heart so that I didn't have to worry about him in my way anymore, but at the same time, seeing her like this, made me want to kill him even more, times a million. There was no way in hell I wouldn't make him suffer for this. She sat back on her bed, her hands burying her face as she wept.

"I should have saw the signs, he would always come home really late and make these shitty excuses," she sniffed loudly as she lowered her hands away from her face, "I... I don't know what I saw in him, I feel like the stupidest person in the world."

"Hey hey, you're not stupid," I told her as I caressed the soft skin on her back through her blouse with my hand, "okay maybe a little for falling for that piece of shit," I said with a light chuckle, and it was enough to make her giggle somewhat, so that was enough. "But there's a lot dumber people than you, like that shithead for hurting you," I gazed into her swollen eyes and she looked back, her sniffing became somewhat quieter. Her eyes nearly smiled but then she quickly turned away, the look on her face disappearing as quickly as it came.

"I feel like I should be mad at him for hurting me, but I'm more anger with myself, for believing everything he said," she uttered hoarsely, trying to let herself breathe before she continued, "and we got in this huge fight, like there was so much yelling and he said that I was only bad for him, that I was holding him back."

That asshole was getting a slow and painful death, everything she told me solidified that. I was so furious, it was becoming almost impossible to control, but I didn't dare let it show. I continued to massage her back, following wherever her eyes went, to find that glimpse of hope.

"He didn't deserve you, I knew it from the second you told me about him," I said, "what he does deserve is to die, for hurting you this much," I blurted out, my mouth was moving before my brain could catch up with what I was saying.

She looked at me like I was crazy but then she quickly said, "Hey, don't say things like that," she sniffed again, "I don't ever want to see him again, but I don't wish death upon him."

Oh but I do. That was a stupid thing to say, stupid stupid stupid. I mentally cursed myself for it but then I continued, "I was only kidding," I lied, chuckling to act like it was just a joke, "I only said that because he's a fucking idiot," I added, "and I would never hurt you like that," I told her, my eyes never leaving hers, not even for a second.

"Satoru..." she whispered my name and stared back at me, her lips parted, and we were close enough that I could feel her breath on my face. In that moment, I think she realized it, and there was no going back. I couldn't go another day without her knowing.

"Not ever," I repeated, "You deserve to be treated like a queen, and I would do exactly that," the words slipped out before I even thought about it further. I averted my gaze from hers for a second, only because I didn't even know how she was going to take it, "I wanted to tell you for a while, but the timing was never right, and then he came around," I nearly hissed just from the mere mention of him out loud.

"All this time?" she asked quietly, so low that I almost didn't catch it.

"Yeah," I replied, "all this time."

She turned away so I couldn't see the expression on her face, and the wait was the most painful thing I've ever experienced. Fuck.

"You don't have to say anything, just know that," I tried to reassure her, and she still wasn't looking at me.

She turned to look at me with a weak smile on her face, and it was enough to calm the voice in my head that was shouting at me.

"Satoru, I... God, I like you, too," she finally said. "I've liked you for a really long time, I just--"

That was all I needed to hear. I reached in and cut her off with a short, soft kiss. Then we pulled away, lips still brushing together, before it shifted into something much slower. She sighed against it, and I felt my heart going a million miles an hour. I licked lightly across the seam of your lips, and she parted them willingly. My tongue bumped against hers, and when she pulled me close to taste me, a moan scraped my throat.

"Satoru," she gasped, and pulled away. "Wait, I don't want to mess this up, too."

I took her hand in mine and kissed the top of it before she could say anymore, "You won't," I reassured her, "I know we shouldn't rush into anything, I just wanted you to know because I couldn't hide it anymore."

She smiled at that, and started rubbing slow circles over my chest, leaning in to press her mouth against mine again. We kissed until we had to part for air, and the voice that was shouting at me, berating me, was now as proud as ever. I didn't regret a thing, everything fell in place just like it was supposed to. She was mine, and that was all I could ever ask for. Her lips were so soft and addictive, I could kiss them all day and never grow tired of it.

She started laughing all of a sudden, covering her mouth to stifle it, and I couldn't be happier that she was laughing because of me. It was easily my favorite sound.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"Nothing's funny, I'm just embarrassed because this was well, our first kiss, when I look this awful, my makeup is all smudged and runny and I just look terrible," she croaked out in that sweet voice of hers, giggling and her cheeks lit up with a soft hue of pink.

"No, you look perfect," I corrected her, "as pretty as always."

I cupped her cheek in my hand and I pulled her into another lingering kiss, we were both chuckling during it, and it was the most perfect thing being able to swallow her laughter. Finally, she was mine, it made all that waiting and seeing her with that shithead worth it. At first I thought I was dreaming, but for once it wasn't a dream, no it was very real, realer than anything I've ever felt.

Shortly after our make out session, we decided to watch a movie. She begged me to let her pick, because she knew I would pick some kind of horror movie and she told me that she cried enough today. So she ended up picking some dramedy that I found myself not paying attention to at all, because all I could think about was her and the taste of her lips. I replayed the scene of her saying she liked me too in my head a thousand times, and I don't think I would ever stop.

She ended up falling asleep half-way through the movie snuggled up in a blanket. She looked so cute and peaceful when she slept, her chest heaving and her eyes closed in such a way that made her lashes look even more beautiful. I found myself watching her like that longer than I should have.

___________________________________

131 notes · View notes

desert-warmth · 7 years

Text

A lone desert sorceress sneaked back into Earthen Peak. She was tired beyond reason of her changed form around the chest area that refused to turn back to normal. Inara waited two weeks, and then one day more, and a day more after that, and then another two days. Nothing happened - she still looked like a proud mother of twelve children, judging by her breasts, and she wanted to reset her body in the only way she thought would be reasonable. There was time Baneful Queen spent frightening amount of time in one specially refitted chamber filled with nothing but poison, and few bathroom towels hidden here and there. Inara of Jugo assumed that, since her mistress was slithering somewhere in the deep lower parts of the Earthen Peak - Inara could sneak into that room, and soak herself in the very same lethally poisonous liquid that changed her body permanently many hundred years ago. Thankfully it didn’t turn her into a snake-woman, not yet at least, but it did enhance her natural beauty significantly, and on a side effect - the very same liquid preserved her body for untold amount of time, same with her sisters in Curse. Alas, her risky plan was doomed to failure, and not because of the reasons she could foresee. Mere few minutes after Inara entered the enormous bathroom chamber- her ears heard familiar feminine voices. Familiar voices of her sisters in Curse. And before Inara could make up her mind whether she wanted to flee or stay at the moment - they were already here. Samira, Albina, Zarina and Fatima, all swift on their legs, all speaking some nonsense about events that happened eons ago. Inara could only thank the still existing gods that Leila and Aidan weren’t with them. It was one of the most awkward bathing days Inara had since her arrival in this place. She tried to stay somewhat away from the other women, so they won’t notice two massive changes on her body, but at the same time she kept herself close enough to the women she once proudly called her sisters. Not blood related sisters, of course, but sisters none the less. By the end of the slowly going evening, when the others had enough of poison on their skin for today - they left the chamber after they got Inara’s word that she’ll follow them shortly after. She promised to join them shortly after, and as soon as they left the chamber - she stood up and swiftly lowered her gaze. And she was disappointed in what she saw. Quite a bit so.

”That little son of a whore!!”

The frustrated desert woman yelled at the peak of frustration, sending eerie, otherworldly echoes in the chamber. Not only did she yell that in a rather infernal manner - she also created a little firestorm from her mouth as the air exited her mouth. It bothered her little - she was too angry on a man that she couldn’t kill twice. Inara rushed to her clothes, and took a towel she prepared beforehand to get rid of the poison still taking its place on her skin. While she was drying herself up - Inara’s nostrils picked a certain scent of burning cloth quite soon. Surprised, she looked around, but found no possible source for such peculiar scent. The desert woman shrugged, and tossed the towel aside. It set itself ablaze few moments later, and this time Inara began to suspect herself in having serious hallucinations.

The desert woman muttered few curses in Jugo dialect, and quickly dressed herself up, trying her hardest to ease her thoughts, and calm her nerves. When her hood was on her head, she reached for her mirror-catalyst to take a look on herself. Inara’s eyes were on fire. Literally. Her eyebrows were burning with a flame that could not be real. She screamed again in the same voice, and dropped the catalyst, and quickly rubbed her face with her gloved hands. When she picked her catalyst again - her face was back to normal, aside from one detail. Her amber eyes became all amber-like, and even though she could clearly see herself and everything around her - she was absolutely sure that she was losing her sight, and her mind...

#| m!a |#| will one M!A replace another? |#| will they mutually destroy each other? |#| stay tuned and find out! |#| well since I am overly proud of this text I shall toss some tags |#| don't mind them |#Desert Sorceress #Earthen Peak #Original Character #Needlessly detailed explanation for a silly magic anon #something something I Need A New Hobby #Dark Souls is a magical game #I'd never believe myself if I told me 'Hey you are going to make walls of text for a made-up character with Big Anime Tiddies!'#Poor sand granny deserves better

6 notes · View notes

kaiparker-avengerssmut · 3 years

Text

Their Doll 13

Thump

B.Barnes x Stark!Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

series synopsis: y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing

Chapter Summary: y/n goes on her first and only mission at HYDRA with Bucky

Warnings: swearing, violence, blood, death

A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

This was the first mission I was assigned to with the Soldier. And I had a strong feeling it'd be the last. The Soldier's mind seemed less distant, clearer recently. I never complained, of course, as it meant two things: one, I actually had someone to talk to here that didn't want to either murder me or rape me and two, he was really fucking good with his dick when his mind was sharper.

We were currently holed up in a train carriage, which was stacked ceiling-high with wooden crates all marked 'stock'. Stock of what, neither of us knew. We had sneaked on, jumping onto the top of the train as it passed a hill we'd been waiting for. Once on top of the train, the soldier helped me into the back - which is where we currently are. It appeared like he'd done this a hundred times before - and one thing I did pick up on was his hesitance while scaling the side of the train. I didn't think much of it - I for one was nervous as shit when we were simply clinging to the small ladder down the end of the back carriage.

We were huddled close, the coldness seeping in from the mountains surrounding the track, the chill in my flesh making me shiver slightly and lean further into the Soldier. His arm was thrown over my shoulders, his own teeth chattered slightly but I could tell he was trying to appear unaffected by the surging weather.

I took the time to replay the briefing for the mission in my mind. Sneak in, stay discreet, use the vents to find the room with the politicians in, take them all but one out, frame the one who remained alive. God I'm happy I'm not doing this alone.

We had a plan. We would sneak in through the back entrance after sniping the two guards that were meant to be stationed there. From inside the door, just a meter to our left was easy access to the vents that we could crawl through for 50 minutes and we'd be directly above the room they were all set to gather in at 18:00. Once there, I'd use my voice to bring them into a state of unawares, from which The Soldier would shoot them all except one. I'd then use my powers to convince the left over that he was the one who did it and the Soldier would give him the gun that was used.

From there, I'd sneak down and take photos of the files they were discussing - HYDRA hadn't told us what they were but I was sure it was something that would deeply concern them - and then we'd leave the way we came.

Simple enough, really.

"You seem on edge." I commented, observing the way his eyes never remained in one place. "Something bad happen here?" I prompted when he only looked at me.

"I- I don't know." He came back with, eyes boring into mine. "You know the plan, right?" He asked, eyes still locked on mine like magnets. I nodded, humming in affirmation. "Good, I don't know if they'll fight back or not, so be ready." The soldier said, head tilting towards my waist in gesture of my belt that wrapped around the black tactical suit, holding various knives I could throw and a small, but powerful, gun.

I never liked using the gun, I always found the loud noise distracting. I preferred knives, and as my aim was particularly good whilst throwing them, I had little need for a gun unless I ran out of blades. But that seldom happened.

The temperature seemed to change, warming only slightly. A subtle thing that very few would pickup on, but as trained assassins you learn to notice the subtle things. I today, I knew this temperature change meant we'd entered the city. The pollution and bustling of people always increased the temperature, and only by a few degrees but when you were freezing your ass off, you tend to notice the discrete change.

"Time to get our asses moving." The soldier muttered before rising to his feet, offering me a hand as he did so.

"Let's get this show on the road." I murmured once on my feet, standing back as the soldier wrenched the door at the side of the carriage open.

"Roll once you land, it'll make the impact less brutal." He commented before he was diving from the train, landing with a smooth roll over the gravel, which crunched beneath him. I took a deep inhale, leaping from the carriage with nothing but hope that I'd land it rather than end up dead in the process.

My eyes sprang open as I landed, shock rolling through me as I realised that I was alright. A wide smile beckoned my lips, curling them upwards into a grin and I pushed myself from the floor and up onto my feet.

"That was the easy part." The soldier assured me as he walked towards me, my smile instantly dropping and his face falling into a hard expression. I new that face - it was his mission face. One that meant no more messing around, because shit was about to get real serious and real dangerous.

"Let's go." I said, beginning to walk towards the mass of buildings. The soldier followed quickly, directing us to slip behind the first block of apartments we came across so no one in the city would see us.

As we snuck our way to the centre, we flattened ourselves against the wall - melting into the plentiful shadows. As we approached our target, I felt the soldier's hand wrap around my bicep, pulling me back.

"Stay here. I'm going to get higher ground. When you see them drop, continue on and get into that door." He ordered gruffly, and before I could agree he was gone.

I crouched down slowly, now aware with how close we were to the two security guards that any sudden movement had the possibility of catching their attention. I leant into the side of the building, observing the two men as they blatantly ignored their surroundings. We're they trying to make this easy for us?

I felt a sneeze rise in my throat, that tangy feeling settling over my nose as I covered the lower half of my face with my hand. Try as I might, I couldn't prevent the unwanted noise, the small sound catching one of the guard's attention.

"Over there!" He hissed, tapping the other on the shoulder furiously in order to get their attention.

"What is it? I can't see anything." They dismissed, clearly trying to turn back around before the first guard yanked his attention back. I stayed as still as a statue, for once extremely glad that I was completely clad in black.

"I heard someone. Over there." The guard exclaimed, pointing almost directly at me. I held in my breath, eyes widened as I sat petrified. That's when my weight shifted, a small twig I didn't know was beneath my shoe snapping under the pressure. I stopped myself from wincing, the snapping noise echoing and completely giving away my position.

"There they are! Quickly, shoot them!" The second guard shouted, pointing at me as the first fumbled with his belt. I took the opportunity, pulling a blade from my belt as quick as I could and preparing to throw. But two pained shouted caught my attention, my gaze raving to see the two men sprawled on the floor, foreheads pierced with bullets.

My gaze drifted upwards, the soldier crouched over the top of a clearly abandoned bridge, gun in hands and still pointed towards them. A scowl was etched on his features, the lower banks of his face now covered by an ominous black mask.

I snapped from my trance, darting along the back of the building until I reached the door. Once I reached it, I cursed under my breath, realising it was locked as I tried to tug it open. I sighed in frustration, reaching into a pocket on the side of my leg and pulling out a pin.

I crouched by the door again, trying to not be caught a second time as the piece of metal wiggled around in the key hole until I heard the soft, tell-tale click that signalled the door had unlocked. I stood up, tucking the pin back into my suit and moving to open the door. As I slowly tuned the handle, edging the door open enough to check inside, the Soldier appeared beside me.

"Great job." He deadpanned, eyes cold as he glared at me.

"Hey! It wasn't my fault, blame the gardener that decided daisies were a good idea!" I retaliated in a whispered-shout.

"Just shut up and go." He demanded, brushing past me and into the building once he realised it was clear. Once I'd collected my thoughts as called him a wanker under my breath, I pushed through the door after him to be met with the sight of the soldier's muscles bulging as he tried to pry the vent door from the wall as quietly as he could.

The metal clanked gingerly as he removed the door, placing the vented slab to the side of the now-clear entrance before turning to me and gesturing for me to follow. I got to my knees, crawling through the hole in the wall and placing the vent back in place behind me to lower suspicions.

We crawled through the vents stealthily, the concentration on us apparent as we both counted the meters. I almost crashed straight into the soldier's behind when he abruptly stopped, so I assumed the vent we needed to take out the plan was in front of him. He climbed over it quickly, so we were either side of the slats in the floor.

The soldier looked at me, bringing a finger to his lips as one of the politicians went in a rant.

"It's ridiculous! They expect us to vote on this and we don't even have all the information!"

"Well maybe if you'd read the file, you'd know the answer to all these bloody questions you keep asking!"

The soldier pointed a finder towards the men below us, before moving the same fingers so it was pointed at my mouth. I gave him a curt nod.

The tune flowed from my lips freely, easily, as I began humming. I almost stopped when I saw one of the men tense through the vent, knowing we'd been caught and probably executed or something. But when his shoulders relaxed my fear dissipated, the song falling from my continuously.

I noticed the metal plugs now in the soldier's ears as he leant over the vent, which he'd now pried open and had slid toward me slightly. His gun was pointed down the space he'd created, eyes cantered in on presumably one of the targets. Then he fired, and I flinched as I heard a hollow thump as the body slipped limply to the ground.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

The man who had tended remained alive, still relaxed and eyes glazed over. The soldier motioned for me to move, pushing the vent conger completely out of his way before jumping down into the room, the expected thud as he landed never coming. Wow, this man really is light on his feet.

Maybe he should've been a ballerina, that little voice in my head sung, a smug smile drawing over my lips at the thought of the Winter Soldier in a tutu.

I snapped out of it, following him down and landing crouched, almost disappointed at the tiny thud when I landed.

I barely noticed I'd stopped singing until the burning pain in my shoulder pierced through my thoughts.

"Get down!" The soldier shouted, shoving my down my my good shoulder and taking a lethal shot to the remaining politician's throat. He fell the the floor with a garbled cough, the splatter of blood across my cheek making my wince. The soldier chucked the gun to the table, scooping up the files and pushing them desperately into one of his big pockets on the leather he wore before yanking my up via my arm. "We have to hurry." He gritted through clenched teeth, using two clasped hands under my foot before hoisting me back into the vent.

He all but jumped up after me, replacing the grate before placing two hands on my cheeks to centre me. Hot tears ran down my cheeks, my breathing fast and uneven and my eyes refusing to meet him.

"Hey, look at me," my eyes found his, "I know you're in pain, trust me." He said, a tiny smirk pulling at his lips as the words tumbled from his lips, "but right now, you're running on adrenaline and we need to take advantage of that. So you're going to turn around, and you're going to crawl to the end of this vent and get out of the building. Quietly." He instructed, and I began nodded. I went to turn around, but he used two gloved, metal fingers I redirect my head to him. "It's nothing personal." He said with a pitiful smile before whipping a few hanker chiefs from his pocket and stuffing them into my mouth. "Bite down on them if it hurts." The soldier clarified when I gave him a confused expression.

...

The sound of the alarm seemed to follow us and we ran, my hand clutching my shoulder as my big down aggressively at the cloth in my mouth. The soldier was behind me, making sure I didn't fall behind with my injury.

The blaring noise of the alarm stressed me out, knowing that they were probably looking for us making my pick up the pace despite the burning in my shoulder.

"There!" The soldier exclaimed, my eyes low finding the black car that we knew would be to pick us up. As we approached the end of the alley we walked down, the soldier over took me, sprinting forward to hold the door open for me.

I stumbled into the back of the car, being ushered farther in as the soldier climbed in behind me and slammed the car door shut.

The vehicle began moving, the chauffeur barely paying kind to us as my chest heaved and a scream broke through the cloth in a muffled shout.

The panicked look on the soldier's eyes is all that I could focus on, his mask off now and his lips moving but I couldn't seem to hear him. Black crept up on me, clouding the edge of my vision as it invaded my senses.

...

"Someone's finally awake then." The displeased chide of the General filling my ears as my eyes fluttered open.

"You have to leave her alone! It wasn't her fault!" The soldier's voice said desperately, I could hear the worried tone edging his words.

"Quiet. She's the reason you failed your mission, Soldat. I won't have it happen again." The general snapped, my vision fully in focus now.

The general was stood before me, my hands strapped to the ceiling and my toes barely touching the floor. The pain in my shoulder screamed at me, but I could no longer feel the sickening wetness of my blood dripping down my back. They must've taken me to the medic on the flight home.

"Please, don't you think she's endured enough? She was shot for god's sake!" The soldiers reasoned, and I could see him fighting against his restraints. But the general ignored him.

"I think you're memory is getting too sharp. I'll be sure to get you reset once I'm done." He dismissed, a wince finding me as three guards filed into the cell. "Make her pay." He barked, standing back.

The guards grinned sickeningly, my eyes widening as a scream of protest trying to escape the silencer as I caught sight of the bats in their hands. It felt like the air had been punched from my lungs when one of the bats made contact with y stomach, and I already knew the area would be bloody and bruised when they were done.

"And don't stop until she passes out."

217 notes · View notes