#sorry for the simple speech it's like almost three am here
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it's my birthday in two weeks.
not a very me way to start a post, i swear i am not doing it for wishes or anything like that, if anyone ever sees this in the first place; i was just writing some very personal things down in my journal (if i can call it such, it's a mess of thoughts and random rants in there really, no structure whatsoever) tonight, and as i was reminiscing my teenage years, seeing that they are conventionally and socially coming to an end soon, i wanted to do something kind of meaningful, instead of just hating my birthday and the weeks before it and being sad all the time like i have done since like. ever. i think?? i remember almost nothing i did or felt before i was eleven. which happens. so. i know my blog is tiny, but for me, it's kind of a great importance to do this right now.
disclaimer: i am not here to give advice to anyone who ever comes across this post. this is not what my role is. that would be sort of unfair, dare i say, since all people experience life differently, even when facing the same situations. <3
so, without further ado, here's ten things i "learnt"/want to tell myself (and maybe another person who might need to hear some of it) before i turn twenty:
(cw: kind of vague and not so vague mentions to mental health in general + some religion things)
1. you don't have to wear this paricular t-shirt in this particular size if it doesn't fit you- there are many different colours and various sizes out there for you to try on, and if you feel uncomfortable sometimes, here, take this jacket. the t-shirt is not going anywhere. it's just being protected, guarded from the outside world, but not your heart. never from your heart.
a. this was both metaphorical and literal.
2. you are not a freak for secretly wishing everything will eventually magically work out like they do in the books you love to be consumed of, kid. you were just a kid with many hopes and dreams. it was fine. it is fine.
3. you didn't have to pretend to like this guy and actually confess your "feelings" to him in middle school just because everyone else was entering relationships that lasted a week and kissed in the school bathroom. but you did. and it's fine. because it was an experience worth having. you needed to dive into the freezing water to actually wake up and start your journey with much, much more than you had in your suitcase even ten seconds ago.
4. on that note, yes, most of the times, when you are queer in a small, rural, christian, balkan town, you don't get many chances of living your truth loudly. but you grew up with all these realisations, which may have seemed terrifying at first, but you did have them, you did question, you did fell in love with someone you weren't supposed to, even from afar, being on your own. i am proud of you, kid.
5. you are not "crazy" for "being too political". you are not a coward for being quiet because you were scared of all this glaring and all these daggers sometimes either. you were younger. now you know a little better.
6. it's okay if you don't look up at the person (or, in your case, god) who used to consume your every thought of awe and admiration anymore, the person (or god) who was the picture next to the definition of "perfection" in your dictionary. people and times change. not everything has to be black and white. swim a little in the gray. do a freestyle once in a while- the butterfly is impressive, but nothing feels like floating around and testing the waters. nothing can compare to the freedom of all this simplicity.
7. your life isn't lost yet just because your mind was either too fast or too slow to keep up with the present. yes, the present shall be cherished- it's a natural gift, it's in the word itself after all. but it's not all over just due to the fact you move across the brain town every other day. you need to push and pull doors. open and close windows. find hands that offer themselves to you- there is at least one person out there who won't take them away when you try to reach them. but you'll find your way. i promise you.
8. you didn't have to raise yourself at some point- or many points, it doesn't matter, though. you didn't have to raise others either. always the listener, never the heard. always the talker, still never the heard. but, for whatever reason (or various reasons), it happened. give yourself a chance. a pat on the back. start taking this weight off your shoulders piece by piece. does it feel any better when you do so? yeah?
9. you don't have to be embarrassed of your interests. of singing an interesting variety of genres every sunday afternoon, during the designated listening to music time. of being excited over your favourite show. of gasping in shock when something unexpected happens in the pages of your current read. of being overwhelmed in the best way possible when entering the cinema or a theatre or a library or a museum, or when walking down the park. of wanting to learn more about this particular historical figure because you couldn't at school, being the perfectionist you are. of trying to write and almost always failing. of tearing up upon seeing a beautiful art piece. of tearing up or crying in general. no one is judging you. and if they are, that's their own issue to address. breathe in. breathe out. you are more than your bad thoughts.
10. slow down, you crazy child/ you're so ambitious for a juvenile/ but then, if you're so smart, tell me/ why are you still so afraid?/ where's the fire, what's the hurry about?/ you better cool it off before you burn it out/ you got so much to do and only/ so many hours in a day...
<3
sorry.
i might delete it later. i might not. i hate being so open, especially on the internet, but all this anonymity gave me an opportunity. and i seized it. plus, i spared all the details. so.
**sigh**
#vent#vent? ish?#i don't know#birthday#birthday blues#so i blow out the candles etc etc#yes i just made a list#so agcd coded of me i know#(as the years go by i realise i am literally him)#(without the extraversion bit i could never)#also i am not being self-centered here#i really needed to get this off my chest#so that maybe another person can see it and realise they are not alone#and i know people have it way worse than me#but yeah#also i am not a swimmer i don't even know why water is such a thing here lol#*swimmer AND i don't#sorry for the simple speech it's like almost three am here#(which means it's almost four am because it's the day when it changes but oh well)
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Steve wakes up to a beeping noise- a heart monitor. He struggles to open his eyes, turning to squint around the hospital room. Something about it feels off, though he can’t tell what.
A woman stumbles in, almost spilling her coffee. She looks familiar.
“Hey,” Steve tries, only to end up coughing. His throat is painfully dry.
“Steve!” She exclaims. She hurries over, swapping the coffee for a plastic cup of water. She carefully holds it to his mouth for him to drink. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you awake! I know we can’t talk here but… fuck, man, you really had us scared for a minute. Promise me you won’t do anything like that again!”
“I promise?”
“Oh! Eddie finally woke up too! Just the other week. He keeps asking about you, I should go-”
Steve is only more confused. There’s only one Eddie he knows and that Eddie wouldn’t be caught dead worrying about someone like Steve. Not unless...
“Munson?”
“Duh. Oh! Nancy! I was supposed to- you’re ok, right? I’ll just be a minute!”
“Yeah, sure.”
She throws him a thumbs up, darting out the room, calling for Nancy.
His head throbs. He’s not sure what is going on, what happened… maybe that thing in the Byers house did get him after all? Maybe this is just a dream.
"Ah, Mr Harrington," a nurse greets with a warm smile. "It's good to see you awake. I'm just going to check your vitals and all of that stuff, then we'll need to go over some questions. Does that sound alright?"
"Questions?"
"You've been asleep for a few weeks. We need to make sure that everything up there is ok." She lightly raps her knuckles on the side of her head.
Despite how light she's trying to be, Steve feels a sinking in his stomach.
"Is that possible? What- what could be wrong?"
"Nothing too serious. You're speech is clear and legible, you're conscious and cognitive." She lifts the clipboard off the end of the hospital bed. "You remember your name?"
"Yeah," he says. After a moment, he realizes; "oh! Right, sorry. Steve Harrington."
"Date of birth?"
"April 29th, 1967."
"Do you know what todays date is?"
"Um... how long have I been out? You said a few weeks, right?"
"Almost three weeks, yes."
"Three weeks, so that would make today... December 4th?"
She doesn't respond for a moment. The way she keeps her eyes on the clipboard feels too calculated.
"The year?"
"Uh... 1983?"
She only pauses for a moment, before continuing to ask simple questions about current events, how he's feeling, where he feels any pain or discomfort.
He lies when she asks if he remembers what caused him to be hospitalized. He's not sure what the story Nancy and Byers will give. He can't imagine people... involved, would want the truth out. And he's not willing to risk whatever consequences will come with that.
"I'm going to talk with your doctor," she finally says. "I'll be one minute."
"Wait! What- am I ok?"
"Your doctor will explain everything, don't worry."
Amnesia, his doctor explains.
Three years of his life, gone. They try to reassure him, say that it's still early days and he could completely regain his memory, no problem.
But they don't know. Not really. It's all 'possibly's, and 'maybe's. No guarentee. There's still a chance that he may never remember.
The woman who ran in when he woke up, sat by his bedside and holding his hand in a death grip, doesn't look anymore reassured by their optimism than he is.
"We're... close?" He asks her.
"Yeah," she says, forcing a smile. "Platonic soulmates. It's, um... Robin, by the way. Robin Buckley."
"Do we have that... Mrs Click, you sit behind me, right?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I did." She looks stunned, almost dazed. "I didn't think you remembered, or even noticed me."
"How could I not? You're hilarious!"
"What? We never-"
"Oh, uh, you're muttering. Behind me. It wasn't exactly, um... quiet."
"Oh my god," she slaps a hand to her mouth, eyes wide. "You heard me talk about you!"
"Yeah, like I said; you're funny."
Luckily, someone else bursts into the room, interrupting whatever epiphany Robin is having.
"Steve!" He yells.
The guy looks like a kid, barely out of middle school. But he rushes to Steve, eyeing him up like he's Steves babysitter.
"Uh, hi?"
"Oh no," is the kids response. He turns to Robin. "How much does he remember?"
"He is right here, you know."
"I think some time in 83?" Robin replies, ignoring him.
"Before or after the whole... uh..." He glances at Steve with suspicion, then pointedly to the door.
"Jesus," Steve mutters, rubbing at the crease between his brows. "Did Nancy and Jonathan tell you, or what?"
"Tell us about... what?"
He rolls his eyes at them, pointing to the kid. "Whatever has short stack paranoid. The thing with the-" he flops one hand around, raised towards the ceiling, "the lights."
"Do you remember anything that happened after that?" The kid quickly asks. "At the hospital, and Will?"
"You mean the Byers kid? Isn't he, like... dead?"
"So you... don't remember me."
"Sorry?"
"It's fine," he lies.
Steve hates how sad the kid sounds. He glances between the two of them, both seemingly wallowing quietly about the situation.
"Which room is Munson in?" He asks, breaking the silence.
"What?" The kid frowns. "Eddie? Why?"
"Which room?"
"He's two doors down to the left," Robin answers. "Why- woah! Don't get up! You're still-"
"I'm fine," Steve gently pushes her away, ignoring both of them trying to plead for him to get back into bed.
Despite the bandages, bruises and sick look to him, Munson somehow looks better than Steve remembers him looking. The longer hair definitely suits him.
"Steve?" He frowns. He tries to sit up but, grimacing, he soon stops. "What the hell are you doing up? You're gonna freak Dustin out."
"Dustin? That the kid?" He asks, grunting as he sits on the edge of his bed.
"What do-" he pauses, expressions slowly twisting with the horror and realization. "Yeah. Yeah, man, Dustin is the kid."
"Right. So... um... we're friends now?"
Eddie winces. "We haven't exactly had time to talk about... that."
"What? It's been years!"
"It's not that simple."
"Are you saying that because it's true or because you don't-"
"Because it's true," Eddie rolls his eyes. "A lot has happened since then, Steve. You fell in love with Wheeler."
"What?" Steve can't hide his confusion. "Nancy?"
"Yes, Nancy. You made sure everyone fucking knew about that."
Steve snorts, having to grab at his side with a wince. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing.
"So you're still easy to rile up?" He asks, smirking.
"Wh- you-" Eddie gasps. He tries to sit up again, grunting when he flops back down. "You were trying to make me jealous?!"
He's looking at Steve with disbelief, but he's also smiling.
"Are we friends now?" Steve asks.
"Yeah, Stevie. We're friends."
"Just friends?"
"I don't... Steve, how bad is your amnesia?"
Steve quickly looks away, wincing. "Not... that bad? I remember that- the first time. This, um... monster shit. Falling out with Tommy. And the doctors are optimistic- they're pretty sure I'm going to remember."
"Alright... maybe it'd be better if we talk then, instead of rushing into it now."
"Jesus," Steve frowns. "I really have missed a lot. When did you get mature?"
"Hey-"
#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#robin buckley#platonic with a capital p#steddie fic#ficlet#hurtcomfort
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@writersmonth Prompt: Day 11 - Sweat
Fandom: Teen Wolf | Sterek WC: 900
AO3
XI. Sweat | My Place
“Oh, man, if you’re here to tell me I offer nothing to the Pack, you are about three years too late. Had that breakdown. Over it.” Stiles said simply, staring at the Hunter in front of him. He was still covered in sweat from running for his life when the Hunter first showed up and tried to get both him and Isaac impaled on a pretty arrow. After Isaac had managed to get far away enough that Stiles could breathe again, he had slowed down, unable to keep the pace much longer.
Somewhere in their run, however, the Hunter had started taunting Stiles. The man filed away for later the fact that the Hunter knew both, his name, and the fact that he was human.
They had been running for what felt like hours, but Stiles knew was probably more like 15 minutes. He had gotten pretty good at running, nothing like running for your life to keep your fitness up to date, but he was still human. The Hunter had training on his side.
In the end, they evened out, and were now standing face to face, trying to regain their breaths. Stiles felt himself shivering, but he was sure it was due to the amount of sweat currently drenching his shirt. He didn’t feel afraid. And he could feel Derek’s eyes on him from somewhere to his right.
“Are you really okay with being the token human?” The Hunter spat at him. As if whatever Stiles was, it was way worse than wolves. Because he had chosen to be with them.
“I think of myself more of the comic relief, really. This one here would never smile without me.” Stiles says nonchalantly, pointing to the trees. The Hunter turns immediately, taking out a gun from somewhere on his leg, but before he’s able to point it at anything, Chris Argent gets behind him and disarms him.
“We follow the code, Sebastian.” He said sternly, standing between Sebastian and Stiles.
Stiles smiles widely at him, saluting him. Chris rolls his eyes, but starts dragging Sebastian away, whose eyes are still trying to find something between the trees.
“I don’t need you, Stiles.” Derek admonishes, making his way out of the trees to join the human. Stiles smiles at him, this time a lot more warm and a lot less sarcastic. Derek gives him a small smile in return, and helps him stand up straight. Stiles hadn’t even noticed he had been crouched over until that moment.
“I know, Sourwolf. You choose me because, quite frankly, I’m awesome. So, if Chris has that handled, we better bounce.” Stiles said happily, pointing at what he hoped was the direction of his Jeep, or at least the Pack house. From Derek’s eyebrows he could tell it wasn’t either.
“Did that bother you?” Derek asked gently, guiding Stiles in the right direction. They walked in silence for a few minutes, Derek keeping Stiles from falling on his face about three times without comment.
“No.” Stiles said at last, knowing he wouldn’t get away with such a simple answer. “It used to. But I know my place in the Pack. I know my place with you. Besides, Big Guy, I like it when they underestimate me. It always works in my favor.”
Stiles was expecting Derek to immediately jump to one of his speeches he constantly was trying to give his Betas about teamwork and Pack, but he simply nodded.
“Good.” At Stiles’ confused stare, he added, “It’s good you know your place, Stiles. You are important to us. To me.”
Stiles almost jumped the man in his glee, his arms going around Derek’s waist and just squeezing. Derek let him. “I know that’s hard for you to say, but thank you.”
Derek nodded and continued walking, but he allowed Stiles to walk on like that, his arms still around him. One of Derek’s own arms had made its way around Stiles’ waist and the human couldn’t help but appreciate the long way they had come.
“You smell.” Derek said simply. And Stiles barked out a laugh. They may have come a long way, but they are still themselves.
“I had to run for my life, Derek Hale. I am sorry if I’m a little too sweaty for your senses.”
“I can live with it.” He responded, shrugging. And Stiles just leaned in for a kiss.
“How did you know I was there?” Derek asked finally, once the Pack house was in sight again.
“You always are, Alpha.”
Derek rolled his eyes, but when Stiles felt him pinch his side, he relented. “You are always there, Derek. I just focused on where I could feel you staring. No way you’d leave me alone with a Hunter, code or no code.” Stiles smiled at his boyfriend, finding Derek already looking at him, brows furrowed.
“What is it?”
“Nothing. I’m just processing.”
“Did I break you?” Derek let Stiles go, but kept him close to him.
“I like that you know that.”
Stiles held Derek’s hand all the way back to the house. There had been enough confessions for a single evening, especially when he knew Derek had been worried the Hunters might actually harm someone before they were contained by Chris, as agreed. So he allowed the Alpha to happily walk back in silence. And just because Stiles wasn’t that big of an ass, he actually took a shower as soon as they made it back.
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Rude p.3
masterlist
Summary: Eddie Munson really wants to marry Y/n Hopper but her dad strongly refuses; based on song “rude” by MAGIC!
fic is kinda au
this part has actually something going on in so i really hope you will like it 🫶
Warnings: a little bit of angst, mostly fluff
Words: 1,477
introduction part one part two part three here part four part five epilogue
~
It turns out that Jim Hopper didn’t start to love Eddie Munson. Somehow he liked him even less, which he thought was impossible. Actually the young man didn’t do anything bad per say, he just said what was on his mind and asked simple question - it wasn’t his fault that the older man didn’t exactly like it; when Jim heard knocking, he opened the door, quite rudely greeted the boy and unwillingly invited him inside; overall he wasn’t that big of an asshole.
At first he didn’t think much of his sudden visit. Curly haired boy was well dressed and polite with heart on his hand. One could think he was going on a date with his daughter, but what was weird was the fact that Y/n was at work today.
So after realising that, chief didn’t like the whatever reason behind his sudden visit, moreover his change in appearance, as in good suit and clean, tied up hair.
Before Eddie could say something, Hopper was slightly aware what could come out of boy’s mouth, he wasn’t that stupid - also thanks to Joyce and her little comment about potential future marriage of his little girl, which made him lately think about it more than he would ever like to.
What was a surprise was that it was happening now, way to soon in his mind.
They barely graduated high school, they never lived together, besides secret unknown to the father sleepovers and it was possibly both of teenagers’ first serious relationship.
“Hello Mr Hopper. What a beautiful day we have today, don’t you think so?”
“Cut the crap kid. What exactly brings you here? You know that Y/n’s working today.”
“I know. Actually I came to see you, sir.”
Hopper’s worst suspicions were getting more and more real. Even though it was only 10 am at Saturday morning he decided to bring out the beer out of fridge and drink some of it to calm his nerves.
Eddie seeing this little action, became even more stressed. His hands became uncomfortably wet with sweat, his stomach came up to his throat. He almost felt like the day he met his girl, but it was much more scary and unpleasant. Also this time his lack of confidence wasn’t cute, it was almost damaging.
Taking deep breath he decided it’s now or never.
“Not to offend you Sir, but I happen to believe that you are more of old-fashioned man. And I also think that Y/n really cares about you and your opinions so much. So to already get over with it, I’m here to ask you for your blessing to marry your daughter.”
“No” this was exact answer Eddie was not hoping to get, but he knew would get.
“I know you may not really like me. But I have never ever been so sure about anything in my life. And I promise that I will always take care of Y/n, cherish and love her. Nothing will ever harm her as long as she allows me to be with her”
“I like your determination Eddie, but I’m not going to sugarcoat it - I simply don’t like you and I don’t think you are suitable man for my daughter, for many reasons. Of course I want her to be happy but you are young, you don’t know what you want in life. You barely graduated, how do you imagine getting well paid job enough for you to pay wedding and shared house? Because you know Y/n plans to go to college, right? I was once young and in love so I know how easy is to make stupid and rushed decisions. You want my daughter for the rest of your life? I’m sorry but my answer is still no. You’ll never get my blessing till the day I die.”
“Not to disrespect you, but I’m really tired of this “you’re too young” bullshit speech. I’m sorry that I’m not perfect husband you would like your daughter to have someday. But I’m willing to try to be as close to perfect as man could ever do. I’m a human too, I know my feelings better than you ever could so if I love Y/n I will marry her whether you like it or not. I thought that maybe when you will see how serious I am, you would change your mind about me and my relationship with your daughter but you are just rude at this point. That’s all what I have to say to you. So goodbye chief, I’ll see you at the wedding.” Eddie could clearly see the pissed off look on older man’s face.
At the moment he felt good that he could say at least 1% of the thoughts that had born in his mind. Rest of them were much more vulgar and would made his situation much worse if that was even possible.
Right now he only had to propose and convince Y/n to marry him without her dad’s acceptance.
At the same time Y/n was really bored sitting at the front counter in the local bookstore. She felt like she already has spent eternity there.
Her thoughts drifted away to Eddie, as always they did when she had some free time. All she could think about was today’s their weekly movie night full of best greasy food and lots of make out sessions.
What she wasn’t aware of was the bad mood of both her father and boyfriend were in.
Jim was so upset that even his lunch date with Joyce couldn’t take his mind of this morning experience. And she could clearly see that something was wrong. Based on her observations this was big and probably concerning one of his girls.
“Is everything okay honey? Is El breaking the 3 inches rule again?” she smiled softly trying to make her partner reciprocate gesture; but it seemed that his mind was somewhere else and the question went unanswered.
That only made her sure that it was something really concerning.
“Jim. Talk to me” only when she put her hand on his, he finally turned his head towards her and looked straight into her questioning eyes.
“Am I rude that I don’t want my daughter to make mistake?”
“I don’t think I know what exactly you mean”
“Munson boy came to me today. In the morning. Truthfully saying it was very nice visit” the sarcasm was so evident that it made women flinch a little; that only meant one thing - he was angry and the meeting definitely didn’t go well.
“What happened? He came to propose or what?” her light tone of voice made him only clench his face muscles even more which meant her little joke wasn’t a joke anymore “Oh”
“Oh indeed Joyce. For fucks sake, he is 20 years old. To top it all Y/n is only 18, how is he even imaging it? This has no right to work out well. It’s the recipe for a freaking disaster.”
“I think you are exaggerating a little bit. Yes, they are young and maybe are new to this whole relationships stuff, but love doesn’t choose Jim. And clearly between those two there is so much love.”
“I don’t think you are listening to me. They don’t know what love is, they are kids. They don’t even know what they want to have on dinner and you’re implying that they know anything about marriage? That’s delusional.” the loud voice filled to the brim with harshness hit Joyce with huge force; she was really surprised he was so against Eddie so much he didn’t see the happiness and love that his daughter beamed with for the almost last 2 years.
“Okay, I feel like you have to cool down. I don’t like the tone of voice you’re using while speaking to me. If you want to be mad, be mad at your stubborn ass who doesn’t notice anything around itself. If you actually spent 5 minutes on talking with this boy without any prejudice you would see what everyone else sees” with that she got up from the table leaving Jim Hopper alone with his thoughts again.
Meanwhile Eddie wasn’t feeling any better. Not wanting to speak about it with anyone he rode his van through the whole Hawkins in search of some good ideas. He had no idea what to do in such situation. Yes, he was rejected multiple times in his life, but he didn’t care about anything else like that before.
The proposal could still take place but the fact that the only Y/n’s parent figure present in her life didn’t approve it, didn’t sit well with him.
And the only person who could change Jim Hopper’s mind was at the same time the only person that could know nothing about it.
taglist
@offical-bee @lilylilyyyyyy @bakugouswh0r3
#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x hopper!reader#stranger things#stranger things imagine#eddie munson series
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Chapter 14: Favor - Katsuko tries to give Shingen some information, but he wants to give her something else.
Shingen x OC; Kenshin x MC (Mai)
Previous Chapter: here
Logline - Disguised as a boy, Katsuko finds herself working for Shingen, but her dangerous masquerade becomes difficult to sustain when she falls for the man with a fatal secret
I. “Eek!” Have. Whap! Had. Stomp! Enough. Thonk!
“Oooof!”
My reaction had been instinctive, and I responded with an elbow to my attacker’s gut, and a knee to a sensitive area and only then did I recognize… My hands went over my mouth in guilt as I looked down on the floor where Shingen was doubled over. “Oh no! I’m so sorry!”
Alerted either by my initial yelp or Shingen’s muffled “oof,” Mitsuhide stepped out of his room. He took in the situation with a raised eyebrow, snickered, and went back into his room, sliding his door shut with a firm click.
Still apologizing (and feeling a bit guilty – if I hadn’t turned away at just that moment, I would have seen who grabbed my arm), I helped Shingen into an empty room where he collapsed on a futon. I knelt on the floor while I waited for him to regain the power of speech.
… and waited.
Having never experienced this particular injury myself (although once Toshiie and I got into a long debate about which was worse, taking a hit to the groin or putting up with monthly cramps… an argument I won by pointing out that he didn’t take a hit there every month, but if he wanted to keep arguing, I could arrange for that to happen) … In any case, I had no idea how long it would take him to recover but figured I ought to stick around in case I had seriously damaged him.
“Angel, if you didn’t want to see me, a simple ‘no’ would have sufficed,” he finally said in a strangled tone of voice.
“Don’t creep up on me like that.” But since I still felt guilty, I apologized again.
He groaned softly then settled himself into a more natural sitting position. He gestured to a candle sitting on the desk. “Light that, will you, Angel? If you’ve the inclination to attack me again, I want to see it coming.”
I hurried to light the candle, positioning it far enough away to keep my face in the shadows. “I really am sorry.”
“Yes, I heard you the first three times.”
Considering I was Katsu, Kaya, and “Angel” simultaneously, three apologies about covered it. I still hadn’t even apologized as Katsuko. I was losing track of who I was supposed to be when I was with him.
“If you really want to help, instead of apologizing, you could let me rest my head in your lap – your nearness would make me feel better.” He did the whole look-into-my-eyes-and-hold-the-stare thing that I had witnessed during that disastrous Teahouse excursion.
Ok, he’s undamaged.
“It’s not like I hit you in the head.” Even so, I scooted next to him and let him put his head in my lap.
He tugged gently on a lock of my hair. “If I asked to put that part in your lap, you might hit me again.”
Walked into that one, didn’t I? At least he hadn’t asked me to kiss it and make it better. And I wish I hadn’t let that thought cross my mind… I could feel my face turn warm. He gave me an I-know-what-you’re-thinking smile, then shut his eyes. I tucked my hands behind my back so I wouldn’t be tempted to play with his hair. It always looked so soft and fluff-
Oh, to hell with it.
I tentatively ran my fingers through his hair, pushing it off his forehead. It immediately sprang back into place, as if saying, “Tag, you’re it.” Yeesh. Even his hair flirts. I paused. Soft and fluffy confirmed. I paused, trying to convince myself to sit on my hands this time.
“Don’t stop now, Angel, I’ve been dreaming of your touch for days.” I rolled my eyes at that one, which was a waste of a good eye-roll, since his were shut. But I couldn’t keep my fingers out of his hair anyway. He was smiling, but it was a relaxed, almost blissful smile now, that was ten times more deadly than the one he used when he was attempting that mind control thing. I had put that look on his face, and I wanted it to stay there.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, when it occurred to me that he must have had a reason to grab me in the first place.
“Looking for you. The Innkeeper is a … friend… and let me know you were skulking around.” He reached up and took hold of my hands in a firm, authoritative grip. “The question is, what were you doing here?”
Oh. We’re going to have that conversation. If the Innkeeper was one of his spies, or a contact of one of them, then he would already know that I’m not a servant here. “I thought I saw someone I knew come in here. But I was mistaken.”
“You were in that room a long time for someone who didn’t find the person they were seeking.” It was all said in that genial tone, but he obviously already knew whose room I had been in.
“I didn’t find who I was looking for but may have found something you were.” I paused, reminding myself that some of the things Katsu knew, “Angel” wouldn’t. Then again, he already thought “Angel” was a spy. I could work with that—and in doing so, I would tie up a loose end, by claiming authorship of the warning letter Katsu had found at the castle gate. “In any case, you’ve saved me the trouble of writing you another message. That boy of yours almost caught me last time.”
“Then you know whose room you walked into.” He had not let go of my hands. Apparently, he was still stuck on the fact that I had been in Mitsuhide’s room for a considerable amount of time.
“I do now.” If Shingen had been aware that Mitsuhide was lurking in Kasugayama, why hadn’t he done anything about it? “I didn’t when I opened that door.”
“Would you have done so if you’d known?” This was beginning to feel like an interrogation – in fact that is exactly what it was. I had to remember that when he wasn’t ‘Katsu’s boss,’ Shingen was a ruthless warlord and a top strategist. But I could do nothing less than brazen it out at this point.
“Well,” I glanced toward the corridor. The walls in this inn were basically paper. I had no doubt that Mitsuhide was lurking and listening to everything we were saying. “I would have knocked first.”
“You don’t work for him?” His eyes were open again, staring into mine, not his flirtatious gotta-love-me look, but something stern and cold. This was not a man who would take any kind of betrayal lightly.
“God no.” I didn’t even need to pretend horror. “I’d have a permanent migraine.”
“You wouldn’t lie to me, Angel?” The words were lightly flirtatious, but the tone dared me to contradict him.
I contradicted him anyway.
“Absolutely I would lie to you, but as it happens, I’m not lying about this.” I shrugged. “I can’t tell you what I was looking for because it was a private matter, but I can tell you what I found, since it concerns you. Maybe someday, you’ll be able to repay the favor.”
“Let me rest a while longer, Angel, then I’ll be able to do just that.” He pressed a kiss into my palm that I felt along every nerve from my hand to the core of my body.
I snatched my hand back, resisting the urge to press it to my chest. I will never wash this hand again. “Exactly how am I going to be able to relay this information if your tongue is in my mouth?”
“Interesting.” He sat up and shifted closer. “I didn’t say I planned to kiss you. Is that what you’re imagining?” He reached over and tucked my hair behind my ear. Brave man. After running around searching the rooms, my hair was a snarled mess. He could lose a finger in there.
But instead, he gently untangled it with slow determined strokes. The soft brush of his fingers against my head and neck did wonders to ease the headache that had built during my excruciating encounter with Mitsuhide. I took a breather to enjoy that before returning to the original issue. “Do you want to hear what I learned or not?”
He leaned closer and spoke into my ear. “Everything about you is captivating, including the words that fall from your lips.” He punctuated this statement with a flick of his tongue on my earlobe, causing me to bite the inside of my cheek to avoid gasping loud enough for him to hear. “As I have just demonstrated, my tongue can be applied to a number of places that are not your mouth.” He paused and playfully tapped the side of his head, as if struck by a thought. “Although I seem to recall you owe me two proper kisses of a suitable duration.”
“Maybe you should apply yourself to mathematics instead of kissing. I owe you one kiss, not two.” I don’t know why verbally fencing with Mitsuhide had made me want to pitch him out the window, while debating with Shingen was nearly as fun as kissing him.
“Two kisses. I kissed you.” With his finger, he drew an invisible line from his mouth to mine. “You didn’t kiss me.” He drew the line back to his own lips.
“I kissed you back. Simply because I didn’t initiate the kiss, didn’t mean I didn’t participate in it, therefore, two kisses, minus the one at the lake, equals one kiss. Our bargain didn’t state I was required to initiate.” Aaaand, I can’t believe we’re having this conversation now. I slapped myself in the forehead to try to get things back on track. “Stop trying to distract me. I would think you’d be interested in information.” Before he could reply and ping the discussion in another direction, I relayed what Mitsuhide had told me about the attack in Azuchi that someone tried to blame on Yukimura.
Shingen finally settled back and gave my words his attention. “Yukimura hasn’t left Kasugayama for the amount of time it would take to go to Azuchi and back.”
I scooted a bit further away from him. “They’re aware of that, and they caught the person responsible.”
“Who?” Shingen eased closer, erasing the distance I had just put between us.
“He said it was a paid assassin who, k-k-killed himself when caught. They’re still investigating who hired him, but Mitsuhide wanted to pass along the warning that there’s probably at least one of them here as well.” I considered scooting away again, but I’d likely end up scooting myself right off the futon, which would be embarrassing.
“He wanted me to be told?” There definitely a note of disbelief in his voice.
I shrugged again. “I’m paraphrasing.”
“Anything else?” Even though I hadn’t scooted away, he moved closer.
“No.” Nothing I could tell him anyway. The information about the arrow would need to come to Shingen through Katsu, presuming I could get him to talk to Katsu – to me as Katsu. I wished Shingen and this version of me had the sort of relationship where we could bounce ideas and theories off each other.
I wished Katsu could have that relationship with him again.
“Excellent. Now, about returning that favor.” He hooked one finger around the neckline of my ugly brown kimono and eased it off my shoulder. With the back of his hand, he marked a route from my collarbone to my ear. It was the lightest touch, like a feather duster, which was an odd thought, considering that feather dusters haven’t been invented yet. Thank God. Imagine what this man could do with a feather duster, and… augh. Just stop that. Shingen was enough of a distraction without my imagination getting involved.
I took a deep breath that ended in a sigh when he kissed a spot below my ear. “Most people repay information in kind,” I managed to say. I would have liked to have said it a bit more nonchalantly, but I settled for putting together a sentence that included a subject and a verb. And an object. Celebrate the small victories.
He pressed a kiss slightly below the first, apparently intent on reverse the route back down to my collarbone. “This is more fun, isn’t it?”
“It’s fun, although more fun, I can’t honestly say, but if information is being exchanged for kisses, then wouldn’t the information I gave you pay off my kiss debt?” I had vowed to myself that I wasn’t going to do this again… and here I was. I hadn’t sought him out, but here we were.
“No. A kiss bargain is a kiss bargain, while a favor implies a completely different set of rules and regulations. I did not ask for the favor, and although I was glad to receive it, I ought to be able to repay it how I see fit.” He cupped my face in his hands and drew closer.
“That doesn’t even make any sense. Shouldn’t the recipient of the favor choose? Otherwise, it might not be a favor at –.” Once again, he put his finger over my lips, but I was sort of annoyed by that point, so I bit him… which didn’t have the effect I’d intended because he only smiled wider.
“Challenge accepted. By tomorrow morning, you’ll be thoroughly convinced that you’ve received a favor.” He kissed me, hot biting little kisses, each one lasting slightly longer than the one before, then captured my lower lip between his teeth and lightly soothed it with his tongue.
Alright, I can see how this might be considered a favor. Definitely it was more enjoyable than trying to game information out of Mitsuhide.
Wait… tomorrow morning? No, that’s not happening.
Is it?
He deepened the kiss, pressing me back against the futon, and I reveled in the weight of his body on mine. Without permission from my brain, my hand wandered under his kimono to trail across his chest and stomach, enjoying the play of his muscles rippling as I touched him. His body was a miracle.
I felt like I was in a museum and had sneaked up to run my hands over a Greek sculpture. Never had I touched anything so perfect. But unlike the cool of marble, there was warmth and kindness. Maybe a guard would soon chase me away, but at the moment, I allowed a feeling of wonder and awe to wash over me.
My explorations seemed to encourage him. His hand drifted to my breast, cupping it lightly through my clothing. When he rubbed his thumb over, it, the friction caused by the fabric slipping across me sent an electric charge through the center of my body and I convulsively grabbed a handful of his kimono.
“I love that you’re so responsive, Angel,” he murmured. He slipped my kimono off my shoulder, kissed it, then froze. “What happened here?”
The sudden change in tone threw me, and it took a moment to realize he was looking at the large greenish bruise across my shoulder. I’m so used to being bruised from training injuries that I never think about it, and barely notice them. “Huh. No idea.”
He traced the outline of the bruise, barely putting any pressure on it. “This is about ten days old. Did your master do this when you failed to bring back information after we last met?”
“What? No.” Ten days ago… I remembered diving out of the way of the arrow shot at Mai and landing on a rock. That was probably how that happened, but obviously this was not a detail I could share.
“You’re not being abused, are you?” He put his hand on my face, turned me to look at him.
“My horse was startled by a rabbit and threw me.” That actually had happened … three years ago.
He didn’t look like he wanted to believe me, which was annoying, given that as Katsu, I’d told him much bigger whoppers. “If you say so, Angel.” He kissed the bruise. “Now, where were we?”
Why did he take Katsu more seriously than “Angel”? Was I jealous of… myself? Or rather, the part of me that was Katsu was jealous of the fact that “Angel” received his physical attentions. And the me that was Katsuko, or I guess “Angel” (although, I’m not an angel) was jealous that he actually listened to and believed in Katsu. I wanted some mental space to sort through all of it. As fun as this had been – and it had been fun – I knew I needed to leave. Despite his ‘by tomorrow morning’ talk, I wasn’t sure if my disguise – or more specifically, my current lack of disguise – would hold up to daylight.
Of course, as soon as I got out the door, he’d probably be right behind me, and alert his … friends… to follow me.
Unless he was delayed. Somehow.
How quickly or far could he follow if I had his clothes? Hm. I liked that idea - it would be perfect payback for the towel. Punishment fitting the crime so to speak.
Getting his clothes off – while managing to keep mine on – that might be trickier.
“Angel?” He turned me to face him. “Are you still with me?” He sounded slightly put out that my mind had wandered.
“I was worrying about your injury, but it’s pretty clear I didn’t damage anything … important.”
“You wound me, again.” He put his hand on his heart. “I’m weak and in need of your tender care.”
That was my cue. “Are you in pain? You should lie down again… just in case.” I took his sandals off. “Let me make you more comfortable, so you can rest easier.”
If I dragged this out, he’d get suspicious, so I hurried him out of his kimono, then pressed him back onto the futon. He half pulled me down with him, kissing me again, and that rush of intense desire almost distracted me from my purpose. Almost. “Hold on, let me get the candle.”
Two seconds after I blew out the candle, I was out the door, his clothes and sandals bundled under my arm. I nearly collided with Mitsuhide, who, as expected, was lurking in the courtyard. He grandly stepped aside with an ‘after you’ gesture. I made a slight detour to toss Shingen’s clothes into a patch of sand in the dry garden…
…and then I was gone.
#TBT12lies#throwback thursday#Ikemen sengoku#fanfic#ikesen shingen#shingen takeda#twelve lies i told shingen takeda
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Telling Them You're Bi 3
Okay, I am so excited for this!! This is my first request from @springday19! So it's like a day late and I'm sorry, but here's the next part of the series! It hasn't been heavily edited, so here we go.
Telling Them You're Bi 1
Telling Them You're Bi 2
Part 4
Tsukishima: You live in the house next to the Tsukishima’s. Being the same age as Kei, your parents pushed you two to be friends. However with Kei’s prickly nature it took a while before you would even consider you two friends. By the time you decided that you were in fact friends, you had developed feelings for him. However you decided it was best to keep your feelings to yourself. You thought you were doing a pretty good job until Yamaguchi said something about it to you. You almost keeled over in shock, when he said something, but that only gave you an outlet to gush.
After gushing to Yams one day, he finally had enough. He convinced you to confess to Kei. You were hesitant at first, but after talking it through with Yams, you decided to go for it. You caught him on his way to practise, and practically yelled it at him before bolting home. You told your family that if he came over, under no circumstances, that he was to be let in. You gave no explanation and ran to your room. Despite your instructions, they let him in anyway. He came up to your room and told you that he feels the same way. When he left that night he was your boyfriend.
Only a few weeks later, you texted him and invited him over on a Saturday when the rest of your family’s going to be out. As soon as your family left, you began your preparation for Kei. You went around the house pulling all the available chairs into your room. You set them up in three simple rows, and begin on the next part of your plan. You grabbed all of your stuffed animals, your sibling’s stuffed animals, and the pillows off the couch. Together you filled all the seats in your room.
You were anxiously waiting for Kei to arrive. So to busy yourself you flitted about your room picking off imaginary lint, and ‘straightening’ the already perfect chairs. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard three consecutive knocks sound from the front door.
“Co-coming!” You slid into the entryway, and jerked the door open. “Hi!” You watched his eyebrow raise in question at your abruptness. You moved to the side and motioned him in. He pressed a quick kiss to your temple before bending to take his shoes off.
“Is everything okay?”
“Wha-at? Why do you ask?” You cringed as your voice rose an octave. His face remained neutral, but you could tell he wasn’t impressed. “Yeah, yeah, everything’s okay. I’ve got everything ready for our study session in my room.” You brought your shaking hand up to point upstairs. “Um, let’s, let’s go.”
He followed silently behind you. You turned around when he didn’t enter your room, and found him standing at your doorway. He was taking the entire setup in, and trying to piece everything together.
“What-” He cut himself off as he looked at you.
“Sit, sit. Please, make yourself at home.” You wiped your sweating hands on your pants as he sat down in the only open chair. “WAit! Not that one!” You yelled as he went to put his backpack on the seat next to him. “That belongs to Mr. Squiggles.”
“Mr. Squiggles?”
“My imaginary friend.” You explained looking down.
“Imagin-”
“Shush!” You swatted at him and cleared your throat. “Now, I’m sure you’re all wondering why I’ve gathered you here today.” Letting out a sigh, you paused your speech. Kei turned to look behind him, only to find stuffed animals and couch pillows staring up at him. “Eyes up here sir.” You snapped your fingers.
“Sorry.” He muttered, turning around and fully focusing on you.
“So we have an important matter to discuss,” You pressed your shaking hands into fists. “I am Bi, and I understand that this might change our relationship.”
“Tch.” He stands up, clicking his tongue. “Why would that change our relationship?”
“Because you can’t trust me. It’s gross and unnatural. I’ve found that it’s really off putting for quite a few people.” You explained looking down at your feet.
“It’s off putting to small minded individuals. I am not a small minded individual. I still love you. I trust you whole-heartedly.”
“Really?” You asked hopefully.
“Really.” That confirmation is all that’s needed for the floodworks to break out and tears begin cascading down your face. “You are more tolerable than most, and I love you so much. Something like this, doesn’t change anything between us. I chose you and you chose me. Got it?” He asked, tilting your head to look at him. He shook his head and wiped the tears from your face.
“Got it. Now gimme a kiss.” You mumbled leaning up towards him. He watched you strain before giving in and meeting you in a kiss. You pulled away smiling like a fool, and he grunted before leaning in and peppering your face in kisses.
“I love you. Thank you for being in my life.” He paused looking away hoping that you wouldn’t see his blush, “now let’s study.”
Kenma: Upon your request Kenma began to play The Witcher 3. You have played through quite a bit of it yourself, but haven’t quite finished it. Despite this, you love to sit in and watch him play. At first you decide to give him some space while he plays, and lay on his bed. You mess around on your phone for a while, before getting bored. Instead you roll off the bed and crawl over to where Kenma is sitting. You wrap yourself around him like a baby koala. He hums in acknowledgement and gives your hand a quick squeeze. You turn and press a kiss below his ear before resting your head on his shoulder to watch him play. You watch him traipse through the countryside fighting wolves and bandits alike.
“Shit.” He huffs under his breath as a bandit gets the jump on him.
“Where’re ya headed?”
“To the Red Baron.”
“Mm, I hate him. He’s scum of the earth.” You hummed watching as he bolts into the fire in the barn. “Mm, look at how hot Geralt is.” You hum before closing your eyes. The sounds of the game are putting you to sleep. Your body slumps against Kenma a little more than usual, as the entrance of dreamland tempts you. You feel his body tense beneath you and crack an eye open. “Ciri,” you quietly cheer, “I love Ciri. This part you really get a feel for her abilities, not to mention she’s super hot!” Your eyes fall close again. “No offense, but I would leave you for both Ciri, and Geralt.”
“Fair.” He mutters to nobody as your breathing evens out, and you fall asleep. He plays through a couple more quests, as your words bounce around his head.
‘Leave me for both of them? Both of them hot? Does…does that mean what I think it means? I shouldn’t assume. I should ask them, though I am curious.’ He took a deep breath, trying to calm his thoughts. ‘Does this mean that they will leave me?’ He shakes his head and pauses the game. He gently nudges you. You groan and tighten your hold on him, but your breathing remains even. He sighs and nudges you again. You finally wake up with a groan.
“Ugh, Kenma..” You whine. “What is it?”
“I have a question, it’s about earlier.” He mumbles, keeping his eyes downcast.
“What about earlier?” You ask slowly coming to your senses.
“You called both Ciri and Geralt hot, and you said that you would leave me for both of them.”
“I said that?” You turn to look at the side of his face. “Does it bother you?”
“No, I was just wondering…” He cuts himself off from continuing.
“Wondering what love?” You ask, crawling in front of him. He kept his eyes downcast so you cupped his face, trying to get him to look at you.
“If, if it means that you’re gay?” His cheeks redden under your hands, and you smile to yourself.
“If I’m gay?” You echoed and he nodded shyly. “Well, yeah, kinda. I guess.”
“Kinda? How is it kinda?” He looks up at you genuinely curious.
“Well, I’m actually Bisexual.” You explain.
“Bisexual?”
“Bisexual. So I like both males and females.”
“Oh, okay.” He turns back to the TV and picks the controller up.
“Okay?! That’s all you have to say?” You ask arching your eyebrow.
“Um, thank you for telling me. I love you, no matter what.” He actually looked up and made direct eye contact with you.
“I love you too.”
“Do you maybe want to play something with me?” He asks, holding out the extra controller for you.
“I’d love to.” You say grabbing the controller from him.
“I really do love you, ya know?” You turn to him, turn toward him with a small smile and fiery blush gracing your features.
Suna: You haven’t had a lot of time with Suna lately due the team training for Nationals. It’s simply been brief greetings in the hallway, quick kisses before practise, and goodnight texts long after you’ve gone to sleep. These brief moments aren’t enough, and you’re really beginning to miss your boyfriend dearly. Thankfully he’s invited you over to spend the weekend with him. You agreed much to his delight and his sister’s chagrin.
“You’re here!” She yelled once she bullied her way past Suna.
“Hey, wait your turn!” He growls shoving her out of the way. You watch her cross her arms and huff. She turns to you with wobbly lips and glossy eyes, before turning back to her brother.
“Th-that hurt ‘Taro!” She whines.
“Rin!” You quietly scold exasperated. You pull his sister into a hug, “Aw, sweetie, you’re okay.” Her lip stops wobbling as she hugs you even tighter.
“Hey.” Rin ripped her from your arms. You gaped at him. “She stuck her tongue out at me. The little brat’s trying to take you away from me!” He pouted at you.
“Am not!” His sister butts in and declares.
“Are too!”
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
“Am NOt!” She’s getting more hysterical, the more Rin insists.
“Yes, you are! Don’t lie. They’re mine.” Rin says pulling you closer to him.
“Well, it’s not fair. You steal them away!” She wears an identical pout and stomps her foot.
“In case you forgot, they were mine first.” You pull away from Rin and step between them before the fight escalates anymore.
“Sweetie, you two don’t need to fight. I’m going to be here all weekend, so we’ll have plenty of time to hang out. Okay?” You ask, cupping her face.
“But I want to spend time with you now.”
“Tomorrow. I’m going to spend time with your brother now, so he’s not cranky later. We don’t like when he’s cranky do we?” You pinch her cheek and she laughs. You smile standing up and tugging Rin away from her. When your back is turned he twists and sticks his tongue out at her. He hustles you into his room and flops onto the bed trapping you beneath him.
“Missed this.” He mumbles into your neck. You giggle and card your fingers through his hair.
“Missed this too.” He nuzzles further into your neck and you laugh as his breath tickles you. “Rin, are you just gonna lay there all night?”
“Yesh.” It’s muffled by your skin. You shake your head and manage to wiggle your phone out of your pocket. You check on Rin, before opening your phone. Your thumb hovers over your phone screen before deciding to check your Instagram notifications. You’re scrolling through when Rin suddenly sits up, knocking the phone from your hand.
“Wanna watch a movie later?” He asks as he picks your phone up and hands it to you. “Who’s this?” He asks seeing the person on your screen.
“Sure. Oh, that’s just an old friend. They’re hot aren’t they?” You say turning your phone so he has a better view. “It’s a good thing I’m not straight.”
“What?!” He asks, sitting up fully. He has an excited look in his eye as he waits for your answer.
“Oh, um well yeah. I guess I have something to tell you.” You pause, biting your lip and looking at him. “I’m Bisexual.” He smiles down at you and you scrunch your fingers tightly in the back of his shirt.
“Oh Baby!” He cups your cheeks tilting your head to look at him. He has such a loving look on his face that it makes you blush.
“Yes?”
“I am so proud of you. So,” kiss, “so,” kiss, “proud,” kiss kiss, “of you baby!” Your eyes fill with tears as love pours from every touch, caress, and look he gives you. “I am so lucky to call you mine. This doesn’t change anything between us, so put that thought out of your pretty little head.” He smiles a little wider watching you look away in embarrassment. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I thank the gods daily.” He caresses your face, before pushing a stray hair away.
“R..Rin…” Your voice shakes as you cup the hand holding your face. “You have no idea what this means to me.” You say as tears stream down your face. “Your Unconditional love means the world to me.” He wipes your tears as they continue to cascade down your face.
“Baby, it’s so easy to love someone who has nothing but love to give.” he explains pressing kisses to your eyes, nose then, lips. “Does this mean that we can simp over people together?” He asks with a teasing glint in his eyes.
“Rin!” you explain swatting his chest, with a laugh. “I love you so much.”
“I love you just as much, if not more. I am so thankful to have you in my life.” He whispers, pressing one more kiss to your lips. “Now, let’s watch a movie.” He says plopping back down on you.
#haikyu imagines#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu x lgbtq#tsukishima x reader#tsukishima x you#tsukishima kei#tsukishima imagine#kenma x reader#kenma x y/n#kenma x you#tsukishima x y/n#suna x y/n#suna x you#suna x reader#suna imagines#bi!reader#haikyuu x you#telling them you're bi
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SH - Sherlock x Depressed!Reader - With a Little Help from My Friends - Words: 2,793
IMPORTANT A/N - PLEASE READ: As stated in the title, this story contains discussions of depression. There is mention of suicidal thought and self-harm. I personally don't think it's too intense in it's descriptions HOWEVER!!! If this will trigger you, for your own health and safety please do not read. My messages are always open if you'd like to talk. I wrote this partially based on my own feelings so I can understand to at least a degree. You're amazing and I love you all. As far as this story goes, just remember: it has a happy, very fluffy ending but it doesn't start that way. I hope you enjoy it, feel free to leave a comment!
Brief Backstory: Reader is friends with John and Sherlock. She is a nurse who works with John. The three met shortly after Sherlock came back. Sherlock and Reader have crushes on each other but won't admit to it. I think the story explains everything else.
"Y/N, I'm going to be honest," John said, putting his hand on your shoulder comfortingly. "I may have PTSD but I cannot fully put myself in your shoes. My depression is different than yours." You had called your best friend, John Watson, in a mild panic. You had been feeling depressed for some time, as he knew, but that day had been especially bad. There was no particular reason but your depression had gotten so intense that you knew you needed help to get past this particular wave. John invited you over to 221B, assuring you that his flatmate would be out for the next couple of hours. "As a doctor, I am going to prescribe you some medication. Lowest dose possible and only because I want to help you get some immediate relief but I know you do not want them to become permanent. Let's work on finding another solution for you, ok?"
"I don't know, John," you replied. You'd asked John to be your Doctor since you didn't go to one regularly and he didn't mind your irregular checkups. "I've tried just about everything. The only outlet that seems to help is writing and even then," you trailed off, trying not to cry again. "This feeling just won't go away and I don't even know why it's there in the first place. I just want it to stop."
"I think you should talk to Sherlock."
"What?" You squeaked. "Why in the world would I talk to Sherlock?"
"I can't tell you why, Y/N. As both your Doctor and Sherlock's, I have to respect certain amounts of patient confidentiality. However, as your friend, I think you should talk to him."
"I don't know."
"Trust me," He replied. Smirking slightly, he added, "Doctor's orders."
"Ok, John," you chuckled. He smiled and hugged you. "Thanks."
"Now how about we go and fill this prescription and then maybe get some ice cream?"
"Well, honestly," you sighed. "The ice cream sounds great but I didn't sleep well last night. I was actually wondering if I could just take a nap here for a bit. I sleep better here sometimes." You blushed but John nodded understandingly.
"Of course," He replied. "I'll run down to the drugstore and fill this for you. Meanwhile you get some rest. I'll let Sherlock know you're here just in case he ends up getting back before I do. Will you be ok by yourself?"
"Yeah," You smiled. "This is a safe space for me. I'll go grab a blanket. Thanks again."
"Don't mention it. Just remember, talk to him."
"I'll try."
About 15 minutes later, Sherlock arrived back at the flat. He'd gotten John's texts.
John: If you get home in the next 45 minutes, be quiet. Y/N is over and she's taking a nap. I have to run out for something.
Sherlock: Is everything ok? - SH
John: She said she had a bad night.
Sherlock: She must have had a reason to come over in the first place though. - SH
John: She's going to need to tell you that herself. Don't ask. Do you understand me? Let her tell you. Be nice, ok?
Sherlock: When am I not nice to Y/N? - SH
John: Ok, that is true. You like her too much to be rude to her. If you could just hold back your deductions for one second I will say this: you two have more in common than you think.
He hurried home, not to wake you up of course, but because he wanted to see you. If there was something seriously wrong, he wanted to try and brace himself for it first. He couldn't help the smile playing at the corner of his lips when he thought of you. You two were good friends, that much was obvious to everyone. But Sherlock could see the potential for something more. He liked you a lot. You were just as smart, sassy, and sarcastic as he was. But you also could be extremely kind and caring to others and especially to him. He still didn't quite understand why you cared for him so but he was grateful. Before he could dwell on that too much longer, he arrived at 221B.
He quietly slipped inside and smiled at what he saw. You were curled up on the couch, sleeping like a baby. Apparently, though, you'd kicked off the blanket you had grabbed. Instead of picking up the blanket, he decided to take off his long coat and carefully lay that over you. You quickly cuddled into the warm fabric, unconsciously taking a deep breath, inhaling his unique signature left behind on the coat. Satisfied with what he'd done, he took off his suit jacket and went to the kitchen to prepare some tea for when you woke up. He knew you had a favorite tea and, unless John moved it or drank it all, there still would be some in the cupboard.
You woke to the smell of your favorite tea and a hushed exclamation from the kitchen. Opening your eyes slowly you saw Sherlock in at the counter trying to set up a tray with the teapot and cups. Recognizing your surroundings a bit more, you realized what was on top of you. Sherlock was just about to bring out the tray but you decided to pretend you were still asleep. The chances of fooling the Detective were low, but you wanted to try.
"There," He whispered to himself, setting the tray on the coffee table. You could hear him settling down on his chair, likely getting into his 'palace pose' as you called it. For a moment you were happy. You had actually gotten some quality sleep, you were currently cuddled up in Sherlock's famous coat and Sherlock had even made you tea. But that feeling quickly faded. Tears threatened to spill out of your still closed eyes as self-deprecating thoughts filled your mind.
'John probably told him to make me tea. He probably covered me with his coat so I wasn't as much of a distraction. He doesn't want me here. He never does. Why does he even tolerate my presence? He probably wishes we'd never met,' You thought. Your mind was going a million miles an hour and gaining. Without your notice, the tears began rolling down your cheeks and quiet sobs escaped your lips.
"Y/N?" Sherlock whispered. You're eyes shot open. You hadn't heard him get up. Now he was kneeling right next to you, one hand hovering over your arm. "Are you ok?"
"Oh, Sherlock!" You cried. "I-I wish I knew."
"C'mere," he said, motioning for you to sit up. Once you did so, he pulled you into a tight hug.
"What's this for?"
"You always give me and John a hug when you see us. You haven't done so for the past 5 days. I-" he paused briefly before lowering his voice and continuing. "I missed it."
"Oh." You weren't quite sure how to reply to that. You leaned into his embrace, letting yourself get lost in the moment.
"Y/N? Is there something I can do to help?"
"How much did John tell you?" You asked. You wouldn't have been mad exactly if John had told Sherlock to talk to you, but you wanted to think Sherlock was reaching out on his own.
"He told me you had a bad night."
"That's all?" You asked, surprised. You pulled away slightly and stared into his eyes. Sherlock nodded, frowning slightly as he tried to deduce you.
"Why are you afraid to talk to me?" You turned away, embarrassed and unsure what to say. "Be honest."
"I don't want you to make fun of me. I have-" You took a deep breath, steeling your nerves and preparing to just jump right in. "I have been extremely depressed lately and I didn't want to hear another speech about how all I need to do is exercise and eat right and stop thinking about sad things. Well you know what? I can't stop it! I can't help it if I feel like a useless pile of trash that should be thrown in the bin and burned." By the time you finished your little tirade, you'd gotten up and started pacing the floor. Then you turned and faced Sherlock. His expression was neutral but there was an obvious sadness in his eyes, one you didn't expect to see. It wasn't of pity. If you had seen that you also would have given up on the conversation. No, it was almost an understanding, an empathy. His eyes were actually glistening with tears.
"Have you ever felt like," he paused, voice unsteady. "Like giving up?" He whispered, unable to hold eye contact. You nodded silently. He got up slowly and walked towards you. At first, you thought he would hug you again but then he started unbuttoning his shirt.
"Uh, Sherlock?"
"Just wait a moment. I want to show you something." He carefully shrugged off the purple shirt that you, admittedly, loved so much and tossed it on the chair. "Only one person knows about this. You will be the second. You remember I told you about Moriarty's network?"
"Yes, the day we met. I asked you about your work, a simple question. And I got an answer that lasted 3 hours." Sherlock chuckled dryly.
"Yeah, sorry about that."
"Oh, no. Please don't apologise. I-" You sighed, rubbing your forehead. "I tend to make jokes when I'm nervous."
"I know." He smiled at you with, yet again, a completely unreadable expression. "You remember though." You nodded, opting to stay silent as he explained. "Well, those 2 years dismantling his network weren't easy. Not physically and certainly not emotionally. As a result of the different missions, I received many wounds on my body in various locations. I was," He paused, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. "I was depressed, guilt-stricken and suicidal. I figured I had hurt my friends enough. If they thought I was dead maybe I should just go on with it."
"What changed your mind?"
"I didn't want to do it on a mission. I wanted to see home again one more time. So to temporarily relieve the pain I," He sighed. Well, I wouldn't let my wounds heal. I'd pick at them. Mycroft finally convinced me to come back officially because he needed my help. I never told him about this. I think he knows but we don't discuss it." He looked down, obviously embarrassed and feeling more emotionally naked than physically. "You can look," he said. It was as if he'd read your mind. You were trying to be respectful and not stare but you realized that's what he wanted to show you. You had, on occasion, seen him shirtless before but you had never realized how bad some of the scars were.
"Sherlock, I-I don't know what to say. I-" You were completely shocked. Not offended. But actually comforted that he understood you. "Thank you," You finally said.
"Actually I wanted to thank you. I didn't just show you this to prove that I understand your feelings." You looked at him confused. "The day we met. You were leaving work, correct?" You nodded.
"It had been my first day there. John had been happy with my work and requested that I stay assigned to his office permanently. John had already finished up and headed home but there was some paperwork I had to finish so I was leaving about an hour late. Come to think of it, John said he had plans with you that evening. Why were you there?"
"That's what I wanted to tell you. I met you less than a month after I came back. I had still been quite depressed so I was still picking at my injuries. That day had been a bad day for me. So I cancelled my plans with John and I decided to go back to where I started this whole mess and finish it."
"Wait, are you telling me that-"
"You saved my life." Sherlock took one of your hands in his own and held it tightly. "I had memorized the work schedules of most everyone there and knew how to slip in unnoticed."
"But you didn't factor in me."
"Correct. When I ran into you, quite literally in fact, as I was entering the building, I was surprised. Not just by your presence but by what I deduced about you. You intrigued me. I had to find out more about you so I invited you to have a cup of coffee with me."
"Which turned into dinner." Sherlock nodded. "And since you were so intrigued by me, you forgot all about that."
"In a manner of speaking. You weren't a cure-all, mind you. You helped, though, by giving me a new mystery to investigate: you. That night, when I got home, I told John everything. He helped me too and when I mentioned you he couldn't stop singing your praises. He is very proud of you and your work you know."
"Yeah, I guess so," You replied, a little embarrassed. "Thank you, Sherlock. I'm sorry that you went through all that, but, I'm glad I have someone who understands. And I'm glad you're here to help me."
"Me too, Y/N. Me too," He replied.
"Can I, um, can I have another hug?" You asked, blushing and smiling. Sherlock rolled his eyes.
"If you must," He sighed, holding his arms out. Any other day, you would have thought he genuinely didn't want personal contact. But today you realized he was simply teasing. You wrapped your arms around his waist and leaned your head on his chest. You felt him relax as he leaned forward a little to cocoon you in his arms. "I care about you, Y/N. I don't care about many people but you mean so much to me. I-" You looked up at him and pressed a finger to his lips to quiet him.
"You don't have to say it, Sherlock. I know." He smiled and looked somewhat relieved. You knew he wasn't good with feelings and that was fine with you. "I love you too."
"I wanted to be the first one to say that," He pouted. You chuckled softly and booped his nose.
"You already have." He smiled and kissed your forehead lightly.
"I know this won't fix everything right away. I know you'll still have bad days. But I wanted you to know you could come to me too."
"I know. Thank you again, Sherlock." At that moment, John walked in with a bag from the store.
"Oh, hello!" He chirped, happy to see you hadn't gotten into a yelling match. Then he noticed Sherlock's shirt, or rather, lack thereof. "So, uh," He stuttered, unsure of what to say. "What should I do with this?"
"First of all, thank you, John, for giving me the guts to talk to him about this. And second, I think I'll give it a try. You know, to try and prevent a really bad day when you guys aren't available or if talking still isn't enough. But for today I think I'll be alright," You said, turning to John with a smile.
"Well, I'm glad. So did you just talk about that or did he finally tell you that he's had the biggest schoolboy crush on you from the moment he met you?"
"John!" Sherlock yelled. You laughed loudly.
"Not in those words exactly, John," You replied. "Don't worry," You added, turning to Sherlock and ruffling his curls. "Your secret's safe with me."
"Good. Now if you don't mind, I need your input on this case."
"Me?" You asked, quite surprised.
"Yes," He said as if it was obvious. "You're a woman after all!"
"And that is important because?"
"The killer was a woman obviously but I can't understand why she would do it!" The two of you went off into your own little world, completely ignoring John as he cooked dinner.
John: Ok, mates, get your tuxs out. Won't be long now.
Greg: He finally proposed? 😀
John: Not yet, give it a week.
Mycroft: John, you forget I monitor his spending habits.
John: And?
Mycroft: He's had a ring purchased for some time now.
Greg: 3 days tops.💍
Mycroft: I would estimate about 3 days as well, Detective Inspector.
Greg: We're in a Group Text. Talking about our friend like a bunch of teenage girls at a slumber party. I think you can call me Greg.
Mycroft: If I must.
John: So, girls, will you help me make the plans?
Mycroft: Of course. He is blood after all.
Greg: Count me in! Wouldn't miss it! 🕵️👰
Sherlock BBC Taglist
@lucywrites02
@delightfulheartdream
@bartv21
@another-crazy-fangirl
@ladylulu143
@gaitwae
@for-hearthand-home
#sherlock#sherlock bbc#sherlock imagine#sherlock fanfic#sherlock x reader#sherlock x y/n#sherlock oneshot#depression#ptsd#mentions of torture#self harm discussion#potentially triggering#trigger warning#TW#anxiety#good friends#john watson#mycroft holmes#greg lestrade
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FOR THE BETTER
Hello and greetings to anyone that gets to read this. It is my first story. I wanted to try and see how this was received before continuing so please feel free to let me know how you like it. Please be easy on me it is my first one I am new to this, but I hope you like it. Its a bit slow right now but I swear the chapters will get going as we go along on this ride together. Okay *curvies* love ya! Enjoy!
Dark Clark Kent x (Black)!Plus Size Reader
SUMMARY: (I suck at them but here goes) After working miserable unfulfilling jobs, you decide to go back to school to pursue your dream in writing. You get the very handsome, very smart Mr. Kent as your English/Literature Professor. You've always stayed to yourself preferring to have your alone time and focus on your writing. Mr. Kent comes in to shake that way of thinking up and its all with your best interest at heart (well his best interest at heart){Cheesy, am I right?}
"For the weekend's assignment. Something very simple, almost high school level. Don't complicate it." Mr. Kent said dragging his feet to tell you all what the stupid assignment was.
"Get to the point." You thought out loud as you rested your head in your hand. He glared at you for moment before continuing. You felt your face flush, because-'no way he heard me' you thought.
"I want you all to write me a paper on...one thing you like about yourself and why." He rushed out. "I want you all to be as genuine as possible, if you're going to be journalists you have to capture your audience. If you can sell yourself, then you can sell a story. If you're a snooze fest......I honestly don't know what to tell you" He chuckled
Everyone groaned because why???
"Due next Monday on the dot. NO EXCEPTIONS!" He belted. "If you don't have your paper on Monday, you will stand up and give a 5 minute speech on said topic."
'What kind of teenage topic is this?' You thought.
"Don't give me lip guys, you signed up for this. I didn't make you do anything." He said pointing at all of you. "No complaining. Monday! Class dismissed." He announced causing everyone to scatter. You were just about out the door when he stopped you.
"Y/n, can you stay back for bit?"
"Yeah sure." You immediately got nervous. You weren't used to being singled out, you always managed to stay below the radar. You'd figured out ways to stay out of sight out of mind after always being criticized by your family, so getting asked to stay back wasn't a normal thing. You braced yourself for the "you can do better speech" and hoped it wouldn't take too long. You watched as the room emptied and he gathered his stuff.
"Come on, lets step into my office." He said leading the way with his hands full. "Have a seat." he said motioning to the chair in front of his desk. you sat feeling butterflies in the pit of your stomach. Literally everyone would've given anything to be where you were. Mr. Kent was almost mythical. You didn't know a day where you didn't think 'DAMN that man know he fine!' And you knew he knew it.
"Bet you think I'm gonna talk about your grades." he chuckled. "While I do require your improvement,"
'Require?' you thought hoping your face didn't covey your attitude.
"I wanted to talk about something else."
"O-kay?"
"I've notice, you're very um...to yourself, is everything-"
'Oh there it is.'
"Mr. Kent, please don't analyze me. I am a whole different breed of human. I don't do people."
"I'm sorry?" he asked tilting his head.
"I just value my alone time. You can't have that with people."
"You can still have space with other people in your life." he said shaking his head at you.
"I didn't say space, I said alone time, and that's not the same. That's still with people. Like, no." you said crossing you arms.
He stared at your for a second, the he began to laugh, and rub his eyes. "You really are something."
"Mm-hmm its true."
"I'm just saying its healthy to get out and socialize every once and awhile, not all the time, I mean-don't you get lonely sometimes?
"No, not really. I mean don't give me wrong I'm human. I get the urge to hang out, then I do, then I remember why I didn't want to do it in the first place." you said realizing you were almost ranting. He eyed you as if he didn't believe you.
"I tell you what, I know you say you're fine, but for my sanity, can we be friends? You know just someone to check on you, make sure you're okay? If-if you hate it by the end of the week then I'll let it go."
"Mr. Kent, no offense, but why do you care? I mean, you have your own life, I'm sure you got a nice family you should be there for, so like....I'm gonna need a it all to make sense."
"Its mean, don't get me wrong I enjoy solitude too, and its not because I don't like people," he chuckled, "but I know what its like to sometimes need someone I could just talk to when I really needed it most and not having it. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. Its funny because it would always lead me home."
"Well that's the difference between you and me, there is no going back." you sighed. You contemplated it 'It couldn't hurt could it?' "Okay."
"Okay?"
"We can be friends." you resigned.
"Great!" he said clapping his hands together.
"Only til the end of the week." You said standing stretching. "So we good? Can I go?"
"Actually, what are you doing tonight? I mean, my ma is cooking dinner and-"
"Okay anything food related, I'm down." You cut him off.
"Good, well I'll pick you up at 6?"
"Yeah sure." You said trying to get away.
"Uh, Y/n?"
"Yes?" You asked sweetly.
"I'm going to need your address." He said knowing you knew he needed it.
You gave you your information and booked it out of there. You immediately went home and took a nap. The whole ordeal was a bit draining for you.
It was your phones constant vibrating that woke you out of a deep sleep. You let it ring a few more times before picking it up.
"What?" You groaned into the phone.
"Y/n are ready? I'm like 15 minutes away." Mr. Kent asked.
"Ready for what?"
"Food?"
"Food? Food! Oh shit!" You said jumping up remembering dinner plans. "I'll be ready when you get here." You said quickly hanging up and rushing to get ready. By the time you felt you looked decent enough, he called and told he was there. When you walked out to meet him, you saw his girlfriend was with him and you put on a small smile. 'Of course he has a girlfriend, why wouldn't he. Still a bummer though, oh well.' you thought to yourself as you walked toward them.
"Y/n this is Lois, Lois this is Y/n. Lois is one of the top editors at the Daily Planet." He bragged, and you immediately got nervous. You'd read her work and you'd give to be as good, even better at writing.
"It really is nice to meet you, Clark speaks very highly of you and your writing." she said smiling.
"Really? I mean writing is my passion, I'm aspiring to get at least in the door. I'm not an editor or professor, but I think I'm okay." You said realizing you were babbling on because of your anxiety.
"Be confident in your work. It shows when you really mean what you're writing about. It also shows when you're doubting yourself." She said smiling at you. You immediately liked her and hoped to get to know her for advice sometime. You all got in and they fell into easy chatter along the way. Every now and again they'd touch on a topic you'd find interesting or be excited about, and you'd really get into it, smiling and being expressive. You'd catch Clark staring at you, a bit shocked at how much you had to say after months of being so quiet, and you'd retreat like a turtle back into your shell. You tried to not enjoy being around them, but every now and again, you liked talking to people on your level. Every now and again, you'd get lost in the breeze of the night air. You'd look out and get lost looking at the stars and the moon out of the open window of the moving car. You get so lost you forgot the other two people in the car and you'd miss the glances Clark took at you through the rearview mirror. When you all arrived at his moms farm you practically gawked at all the land around. You driven by open field and corn fields, you'd never actually gotten to see it up close.
As you all got out, his mom stepped out and waved at you.
"Well, looks like we got extra family tonight." she said smiling. You immediately felt a bit awkward. "Oh dear don't be shy, any friend of Clark is family." She said pulling you into a big hug.
"Thank you for having me Mrs. Kent." You said smiling.
"No go on now you just call me Martha." she said smiling and leading you inside. "You two come along, you know the routine." She said waving Lois and Clark inside. Dinner was great, you even found yourself laughing out loud. It exhilarated you and scared you to have such a good time around other people. You almost, ALMOST, didn't want the night to end, but you missed your bed. As if reading your mind, Clark announced it was time to leave.
"Looks like someone is ready for bed." He chuckled.
"Yep, I miss my solitude." You said stretching. Clark shook his head at you.
"What?" You asked innocently.
You said your final farewells and got in the car heading home. The ride home was peaceful, there was a calm silence between you three and you smiled watching the love exchanges between the two. You could see how much he loved her and you could understand why, Lois was beautiful woman. Your mind jumped from reasons you weren't in a relationship, to the assignment Clark had given you for the weekend. One thing you like about yourself? That topic was always hard for you and you couldn't even begin to find the words to start. Over the years you'd tried hard to accept yourself, love yourself, and be who you were unapologetically, but the moment you got to the threshold of truly giving yourself a chance, all of the criticism, judgment, and years of being invalidated filled you with fear and dread and you'd go back to your shell and do what you did best. Stay in your own bubble. Tears stung your eyes as you tried to stomp down the voices of doubt and resentment, 'It's okay, I'm good, I do what I have to and I'm happy with it. I'm at peace.' you thought to yourself over and over.
"You okay?" Clarks deep voice full of concerned pulled you from your thoughts and you shook you head to bring yourself back to reality.
"Yeah, just trying to stay awake." you said avoiding his gaze. The ride continued in silence and you couldn't help but drift off. One moment you were letting the ride soothe you to sleep and the next you heard a voice cooing you to sleep.
"Shh shh shh it's okay" Clark whispered. You couldn't help but cover your eyes. You were in Clark's arms as he carried you to the apartment.
"Woah," you said trying to get out of his arms. He gently placed you on your feet like a flower.
"Hey, its okay, calm down." He said gently rubbing your arms.
"S-sorry, I've just never-"
"Had anyone carry you before." He said finishing your sentence. You shifted feeling a bit awkward.
"Well, thanks for dinner. Thanks Lois!" You waved at her before going to your door. "Goodnight." you said one last time as you got inside. During the weekend you were extremely restless and was finding it hard to concentrate long enough to work on your assignment. Even when you sat waiting for words to form in your mind you eventually got busy doing something different. The night before class, you had an idea pop in your head, and you decided to go for it. You just hoped it would all make sense, it was the only think your mind focused on.
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Alphabet boy (m) Part 2.
Pairing: Namjoon X reader
Rating: M
Genre: Tiny bit of yandere lots of angst
Warnings: Aggressive Namjoon, Manipulative Namjoon, Toxic relationship, some tiny slight abuse. !Namjoon is a jerk!
Summary: He was good at everything and wasn’t afraid to remind you of it again.
BTS Masterlist
BTS Melaine Martinez series
Part 1.
it was a new year, new times with new beginnings. to say you were excited for college would be an understatement. you successfully got into the best university out there, but you didn’t get into it alone Namjoon was by your side through the begging and to now.
“Hey, honey.” Namjoon pulled the seat next to you out, placing a kiss on your cheek. “Hi.” You whispered back eyes lighting up at the sight of your boyfriend.
Namjoon smiled at you before pulling out his textbooks.
Honestly, a part of you still couldn’t believe that you were dating Namjoon The Kim Namjoon, your arch nemeses, your childhood best friend/enemy. Nobody would have seen this coming.
But Namjoon did, he was so confident that you would say yes when he asked you out on a date and he had every right to be because you said yes, after mentally freaking out for a good two weeks.
But Jin’s wise words led you to your final decision “You know what they say about hate relationships, it turns into passionate love. Go get that man sis.” and now here you are seven months strong with Kim Namjoon.
The benefits of being his girlfriend were much better than being his enemy. He is a sweetheart to you, so kind that you thought he was mentally sick and almost backed out of the relationship. He also spoils you so much, whatever you want? he gets it for you, oh so your cold and lonely at night? He’s up and on his way to cuddle you, somebody said something not so nice about your outfit? On his way to get them kicked out of the school.
You're Namjoon’s most prized possession, You're his little doll and he will do anything and everything to keep you happy.
but half of you should have known that the past is still there.. that his old ways are still there, his need to remind you that he’s better, smarter, perfect, was still there lying beneath the surface just waiting to show up again.
and sadly it did.
”You know y/n I thought you left your idiotic childish ways back in high school, don’t you think it’s time to grow the fuck up now?” His words hit you like a truck making you stop in your tracks.
today wasn’t a good day, it was a bad day, a very very very bad day for you, and all you wanted all you needed was your loving boyfriend to be with you. he didn’t have to hold you, or stick to you like glue, just being in the same room would be enough for you but that was too much for him.
“Namjoon I just want to spend time with you...why are you being like this?” You were honestly confused everything was fine this morning it was all soft and pretty, you guys went on your every morning coffee date at the cafe before school started, then you walked to school while holding hands kissing each other goodbye when classes started. later you two met up for your library date during break.
has the honeymoon faves ended?
“Because you are so annoying and pathetic and you want attention twenty-four seven y/n!” Namjoon was annoyed he was frustrated about something and he snapped when you walked in the room after he purposely denied all of your calls, he thought you would take the hint and leave him alone for a bit, but you didn’t so now he’s doing the only thing he can do. he’s letting all his anger and frustration out on you.
Namjoon stared at you as your face started to heat up and the tears came to the surface, you thought he would realize what he said was wrong what he was doing was wrong but no he shot more bullets.
“You honestly can’t function without me isn’t that right doll?” He smirked walking towards you as you took a step back avoiding eye contact.
“It’s okay doll, It’s okay that you can’t do anything without me, that you depend on me, that without me you would be absolutely nothing. But right now since I’m being nice let me help you make a wise decision, a very smart one and you being my good girl will listen. alright?”
He brought his hand out patting your head ignoring your flinch.
“Right now you are going to turn back around, leave this room and leave me the fuck alone.” Namjoon grabbed the back of your head yanking your hair making you look up at him in his eyes.
you cried.
This wasn’t your Namjoon, this wasn’t your sweet boyfriend.
this was the monster you hated.
“Well? What are you waiting for? go.” he pushed you forward towards the door making you lose your step but you caught yourself and without looking back you left letting the door slam right behind you.
“Apples aren't an always appropriate apologies”
You came back, you didn’t want to but you had to this was your home too, you were now regretting getting a shared apartment with him.
when you arrived back home it was late, Namjoon was fast asleep on the couch he was waiting for you but fell asleep while doing it all his worrying drained him out.
but you weren’t so easy to forgive someone you never were and Namjoon knew that
that’s why he’s currently crying in front of the guest room door, the room you haven’t left ever since your return.
“Baby, I’m so so so sorry.” Namjoon choked on his tears his hand touching the door an apple in the other.
“I know you are upset with me and you have every right to be, you do. Shit even I’m upset with myself. What I said was wrong what I did was wrong and my anger was no excuse to act that way towards you.”
During his little speech, you shed some tears with the memories of yesterday rushing back to you.
“You are angry with me and that’s okay but please accept this apple. You have to eat y/n.”
-
“Butterscotch and bubblegum drops are bittersweet to me”
It’s been three days, three days and you still haven’t accepted Namjoon’s apology but you did go back to your shared room and went back to having breakfast lunch, and diner with him, even though you didn’t let him touch you and you only responded with humms and the nod of your head it was still progress
“Here, drink this.” Namjoon handed you the coffee cup. you two were at your lovely cafe on a Monday morning right before classes. You gave a smile as you grabbed your cub and started making your way out of the cafe and towards the school’s building that was down the street.
As Namjoon talked about one of his classes that he was in you took a sip of your coffee
Butterscotch
“And I said that he can’t put those two together because they wouldn’t contrast.” Namjoon chuckled as he grabbed your hand swinging it back and forth a smile on his face looking over at you. “You okay doll?” He asked smile slowly fading. You quickly shook your head a fake smile on your face to ease his worry
you honestly didn’t have time for an upset Namjoon on your hands
you were just so tired.
his smile recovered and he kissed your cheek “good.”
“Well, we are here now, our library date at our usual table at three pm?” Namjoon asked and you nodded. “Good. oh and I picked up some chapstick for you, I know how much you love the cute little flavored ones.”
Namjoon digging in his pocket pulling out a chapstick and it made you forget about the Butterscotch coffee as he placed it in your hand. “Thank you Namjoon.” You smiled not looking down at the Chapstick but up at him.
“No problem, get inside class is about to start.”
A smile was on your face as you walked inside finally taking a look at the chapstick in your hands
you halted in your steps and your smile dropped
Bubblegum.
-
“You call me a child while you keep counting all your coins”
“Honestly y/n can you just STOP!” Namjoon snapped cutting you off mid-question.
“Stop? stop what Namjoon? What am I doing?” You were so confused his mood did a whole 360 shocking you.
“You are being annoying.” he spoke rubbing his hand on his face expressing his tiredness looking at you with annoyed eyes.
“Annoying? how am I being annoying?” You stood there in front of him holding eye contact with your arms crossed.
Namjoon looked at you like you were stupid
“Really? we’re gonna play that game now are we? The “Let’s ask stupid questions” game?” You took a step back thinking about how this all took a turn for the worse.
You were just sitting in the living room reading your book as Namjoon came out of the bathroom dressed up nicely ready to leave. you asked him where he was going...he ignored you so you asked again and again and again
until he snapped.
“I was no-” He cut you off.
“Yes you were y/n you were being annoying!”
“I was asking a simple question maybe if you didn’t ignore me-”
“God! Why does it matter where I am going huh! Why is it any of your business y/n!”
“Because I’m your fucking girlfriend Kim Namjoon!”
The room went silent
Namjoon laughed
he laughed
“No honey, you are not my girlfriend you are a child because that’s what you are acting like right now.” He said amused with this whole situation while you were now the annoyed one
“I am NOT a child Namjoon!” You cried at your breaking point. It was pathetic really how easily you cried. But you couldn’t help it.
Namjoon stopped he took a deep breath in as he saw your tears. He walked over to you gently placing both of his hands on either side of your face wiping your tears.
“Are you sure about that y/n? because you are crying like one right now.” He chuckled and you were shocked into silence. “Ok, how about this y/n I’m gonna go and you stay home and be a good doll for me? Let’s end this stupid useless conversation.”
“no.”
“No?” Namjoon repeated raising his eyebrow.
You took a step back shaking your head as Namjoon dropped his hands to his side annoyed that you won’t let this end.
“No namjoon I don’t have to listen to anything you say, I am my own person I am not dumb, I am not stupid, And if i don’t want to let shit slide and get over it I won’t.”
“Grate amazing you are finally speaking up for yourself do that at a different time.” He rolled his eyes making you more annoyed more fed up. “Namjoon it seems like you don’t care about my feelings like you never ever cared at all.” You threw your hands up moving away from him now he was the one that was following you around.
“What do you mean I never cared? That’s all I ever did through this whole relationship, I cared for, I looked after you, I helped you. You are just too much of a stupid spoiled brat see that shit.”
“Shut up Namjoon, god can you stop playing the victim card for once.” You snapped back turning on your heels.
“Your seriously acting up after everything i did for you everything I’ve been doing for you? Things your own daddy wouldn’t do for you?”
“But you're not my daddy and I'm not your dolly, I don’t have to listen shit you say anymore and I don’t need you.”
it was silent
dead silent
besides your heavy breathing along with Namjoons
“oh...is that so?” he asked glaring at you.
“Yes...it is so.” You responded back with the same energy.
“Than I guess you should leave?” He crossed his arms staring at you.
“I guess I will.” You chuckled looking away from him.
and that’s how it ended, the passionate love you both had for each other turned back into hate, more hate there than there was before.
Tag List: @minshookie29 @casualminiaturetimemachine @angryperfectionpersona @jinssexytoe @omgsuperstarg @mwitsmejk @earthtoness
A/n: I know that this was so quick to publish but i got so excited with how good part one turned out to be so I couldn’t help myself to write up part two and quickly publish it. I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED ITTT!!! new readers let me know if you want to be apart of the Melaine Martinez tag list series
#namjoon x reader#bts x reader#namjoon fic#yandere namjoon x reader#yandere namjoon#namjoon fanfic#namjoon angst#bts angst#yandere bts#yandere bts x reader#kim namjoon fic#yandere au
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Oh can I also request the prompt "Reader and Requested Character falling asleep together with their heads on the other’s shoulder in the backseat of the carriage while their friend is driving." With Inej and then when she wakes up she's all shy because she has a crush on the reader? <3
Hypothesis
Inej Ghafa X reader
a/n - Yay, another Inej prompt! I know this was sent in earlier, but I really wanted to write that Mal request that had been sitting for a while! Sorry xoxo 💖
Prompt: Reader and Requested Character falling asleep together with their heads on the other’s shoulder in the backseat of the carriage while their friend is driving.
Warnings: extremely brief mentions of the Menagerie, drinking and gambling.
Tagged: @i-am-the-1930s @mrs-brekker15 @sarcasticnightmareblaze
You leant your hip against the wall, immediately regretting it when the sandpaper texture of the bricks grazed your skin.
Your face formed into a grimace, but after the initial movement to settle your position, the slight burning sensation halted and only stung a little, it becoming barely noticeable.
Your hand reached upwards to your hair to tussle the locks, ruffling the tendrils so the volume of them multiplied. You didn't bother to flatten it down again and instead rolled your eyes.
Would it kill Jesper to be on time?
You had apparently voiced these thoughts out loud as Kaz responded with a stony tone, "If he isn't here soon, I'm sure he could survive a night alone."
The three of you were fed up and Inej, who was usually extremely pacifistic and tried to refrain from insulting people, also joined the conversation.
"Wouldn't be a surprise if he couldn't direct himself back to the Slat until a week later."
Annoyance and boredom seeped into her speech and you snorted at the image of the sharpshooter so drunk he wondered into the completely wrong establishment, flopping himself where he thought the chair that was always waiting for him at the Slat would be, ending up sprawled on the floor instead.
A yawn escaped you and Kaz looked your way, the movement in his peripheral vision alerting him to you. His fingers tapped against the head of his cane as he glanced between you and Inej.
She too was struggling to keep her eyes open and he appeared to be thoughtful, pondering over if it was worth staying at the supposed meeting point, the probable result being you'd only end up delaying the return without Jesper.
He seemed to decide something and he nodded his head in the direction of the carriage then spoke.
"You two sit in the carriage."
It was a simple order, although you couldn't help but be concerned for Kaz, standing in the crisp and chilly air. You were also slightly worried for Jesper because if Kaz told you two, his assassin and spider to leave the scene, he might do something he would regret later.
But then again, he would never purposely hurt his sharpshooter to the point he wouldn't be able to fight. Apparently, your group all had to earn your keep, and this was done by carrying out jobs for Kaz.
You opened your mouth to dispute him but he simply gestured to the door of the carriage silently. You pressed your lips together and moved toward your ride home. Inej followed your example and you overdramatically bowed as you held the door for her.
She chuckled gently and stepped inside, you doing so right after, entering in time to see her closing the curtains, the darkness provided meaning you had to strain your eyes to observe her while you made yourself comfortable opposite her.
Whenever you had spare time, you always used it to gaze at Inej. How the pale light remaining struck her perfectly, revealing the baby hairs loose from her braid framing her face. She was like a living portrait, so beautiful you almost couldn't believe she was right in front of you.
Of course there were several other attributes about her you reveled in and admired consistently. She never stopped trying to be kind and helpful to anyone she passed, making your day one hundred times better by reading to you or taking you for waffles and a drink with Nina.
"Would you like some help with that, ma'am?"
"Oh no thank you dearie, I'm alright."
She would never fail to check the strangers were certain they needed nothing and would take time out of her day to make everyone elses more enjoyable.
"Hey, I'm just going to ask if they want me to carry that, their pile of purchases seems a bit large."
Or,
"I'm just going to see if she needs help crossing the street. Wait a minute, will you?"
She truly was an angel and if the Saints did exist, she surely was one herself. Another thing you loved about Inej; her resolute and stern faith in the Saints, unwavering after all she had been through.
If there were Saints out there, you loathed them. Inej would do anything for them at a moments notice, but she had to endure torment in the Menagerie all alone.
You had no more time to admire her after you were pulled out of your thoughts by her voice.
"(Y/N)."
"Yes?"
"You're staring."
Why wouldn't I be?
That's what you wanted to inquire, but you said something else instead.
"Hey Inej. You know you'll never have to be alone now you have me, right?"
She seemed at a loss for words, so overjoyed you were inferring you would stick by her side, no matter what came her way. A moment's pause later, she answered.
"Yeah."
Inej patted the bench beside her and you happily shifted to sit beside her. You vaguely registered Jesper arriving and telling Kaz he was doing something, giving up quickly at the teenage mastermind's glare and explaining he was really gambling.
As the carriage started to travel forward, the wheels squeaking during the first rotation, your head dropped onto her shoulder.
You didn't mean for it to happen, but when you started to move, Inej carefully pushed your head back into the junction between her shoulder and neck, showing you she welcomed the touch.
A haze of tiredness had descended upon the two of you, whereas Kaz and Jesper were kept alert by the wind nipping at their clothes and skin.
She slowly allowed her head to fall on top of yours, returning the gesture and releasing a deep breath as you slumped further against her.
Inej also felt sleepy and just before both of you succumbed to the slumber beckoning you, you heard one last whisper, so low it almost escaped you.
"Now that I have you."
"Tired, were we?"
You jolted awake in time to hear Jesper's remark and only flipped him off in response before clearing your throat to speak.
"An asshole making us wait, were we?"
He laughed merrily and held out a hand to help both you and Inej step down from the carriage.
"Fair, fair."
You wrapped your cloak over yourself tightly as the cold air infiltrated it, making you shiver and cross your arms, both of your thumbs rubbing over the alternate limb.
You hurried inside the Slat, not noticing Inej's blazing crimson cheeks, too busy worrying over your own red nose. The difference was that your blush was from the chill, and hers most definitely wasn't.
"So...?" Jesper prompted.
Inej sighed, still not entering the building.
"I didn't tell them."
"What! You didn't tell them even after all that lovey dovey stuff I had to listen to?"
"It's more difficult than that Jes. I can't just swagger up and tell them I think I'm in love with them!"
Jesper huffed and shook his head, "You just said it!"
"Not to their face! You're different!"
Her hands were waving around, irritated and wafting through the air. Jesper suddenly smirked and Inej's brow furrowed.
You had walked outside to see what was taking them, more specifically her, so long and witnessed the entirety of the conversation.
She turned, her eyes widening in horror before she stepped forward, her hands held out in a surrender.
"(Y/N), I- I didn't mean it."
Her heart broke as she denied that she was in love with you. Having to act as though she wasn't seemed like too much a feat to accomplish, but it was better to remain friends with you than to not have you at all.
Your eyebrows raised, almost disapprovingly.
What you said next shocked Inej, but certainly not Jesper. He had been subjected to listening to both of you ranting about your feelings and watching your painfully obvious wistful looks.
"Oh, that's unfortunate. I hoped you did."
"What?"
She was extremely confused and Jesper deemed this as an appropriate time to exit, trudging into the Slat. Of course, he couldn't miss this and so immediately raced up the stairs, on all fours, trying to reach the top swiftly, not wanting to miss any important details.
He cracked open his window unnoticeably and leaned his head out, his eyes glinting with pure and childlike joy.
"Inej, I love you. I really don't know how we've been so oblivious, on both of our parts, but it's fine. Now we know."
Jesper cursed. He couldn't hear anything from all the way up on the floor of his room! He sprinted out, dashing down the stairs and burst into Kaz's office.
"Get out, Jesper."
"No! This is extremely important!"
The sharpshooter ran to Kaz's window, sighing in relief when he could hear your words better. Kaz looked as amused as Dirtyhands could, and came over to stand next to him.
"But- I mean are you sure you love me?"
You laughed, the sound startling Inej, confused as to why you would be laughing at such a time.
"Don't you know? If you have to question someone's love, it isn't worth it anyway. I've never questioned mine for you, Inej. The second I realised that I love you I tried to hide it, convinced you didn't feel the same."
You had gradually been taking steps forward and now you were in a close proximity together. If she took one more step, your lips would brush together.
It was so tempting.
So she did it. She tilted her head as she moved and your chapped lips met hers. It was only a small peck, but she had said everything necessary to show just how much she reciprocated your feelings.
She had said everything in that one, perfect kiss.
Moments later, your own little bubble you had been in popped as Jesper yelled out to you from above.
"Why couldn't you speak louder? I could barely hear a word!"
And when you turned to the window, Inej gently pulled your hands, encapsulating them in hers and brought them to her lips then blew, ignoring Jesper and refusing to meet his eye.
Her eyes raked over you, acknowledging the shivers racking your body and she put a hand on your back, leading you inside.
"Come on, you must be cold."
But really, with Inej, you would always feel warm and fuzzy. You supposed you were just immune to the cold around her.
You guessed she'd just have to stick around for you to prove your hypothesis. And it was safe to say, Inej wouldn't mind.
She wouldn't mind at all.
#inej ghafa x reader#inej ghafa x you#inej ghafa imagine#shadow and bone x reader#shadow and bone x you#shadow and bone fic#shadow and bone imagine
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The fae didn’t really understand time as mortals did. The thing that lived under the glade certainly didn’t. It was vaguely aware that sometimes humans came and sometimes they left, and when they came that was a Fresh Man, and when they left that was a Graduation. It was less clear on the finer details, but what it boiled down to was an ever changing variety of prey to sniff out and play with. That was all most humans were to it; something to hunt for food or entertainment, whichever struck its fancy.
Most of the creatures it was acquainted with, then, would see it preparing for the party and assume it was hungry (or bored, as the case may be). They would be wrong. True, it wouldn’t turn down a snack, if it was convenient, but it had other plans for the night as well. Rosalind’s graduation party was supposed to be a small, intimate get-together for those who knew Rosalind best. It had decided that after three and a half years of surveillance, it was one of those who knew Rosalind best, and invitation or not, it deserved to be there.
So here it was, disguised as a handsome youth with dark hair and glittering brown eyes, walking towards the clearing in the forest as if it possessed one of the few invitations Rosalind had seen fit to send out. Someone stopped it just as the lights came into view.
“Sorry, I need to see your invitation-” the girl began, hand already on a poker thrust through a belt. The creature turned its gaze to her, giving its best imitation of a friendly smile. It probably looked grotesque, but the glamor did its work, and the girl withdrew her hand, looking slightly dazed. “Oh- never mind…” she trailed off, as if expecting a name. It would need one of those, it supposed.
“Windcutter,” it said, gracing the girl with another smile. She blushed, waving it through. It was that easy. It was always that easy. It frowned for a second. Was something strange? It dismissed that thought nearly immediately. It was just imagining things, distracting itself from the reason it was here.
The newly christened Windcutter swept its gaze around the party. There were little lights in glass bubbles- faerie lights, he remembered dimly from some conversation. The mood lighting was entirely lost on something with perfect night vision, but it highlighted Rosalind’s face as she hopped down from a tree, brushing off her clothes. Unconsciously, Windcutter’s hand went to its shoulder as phantom pain tingled down the equivalent of its arm.
It was supposed to be easy. The mortals’ minds did most of the work for it; once they hit the glamor, they would fabricate details to cover up any of the little holes. The trick, it had learned, was to add some mild imperfections- these days, the students were wary of anyone too pretty. It had worked for- well, for however long it had been before Rosalind came along.
She was Gar then, one of the Fresh Men, and her roommate had been Koi. Oddly, it barely remembered what Koi smelled like, just that when it saw her at a party, it had deigned it the superior of the two. It had been simple to flirt with her, throw up enough charm that anything it said would attract it, that no warning bells had gone off.
And when Gar had left the party, gone into the back alley, and found it with what remained of Koi, it had been child’s play to send a wave of glamor at her so strong that it wouldn’t have been surprised if Gar had let it consume her as well. It was, understandably, a little surprised when Gar pulled a solid-iron knife and stabbed it. The surprise was nothing compared with the pain, though, and it had… well. It was embarrassing, but it had run, crawling under the glade to metaphorically lick its wounds. It had been mildly perturbed to find that even after it healed, any form it took had a little silver line of scar on the shoulder.
That was how the story ended, somehow. Gar had turned to the knights, and then turned herself to a knight. Somewhere along the way she became Rosalind, and all along the way the creature watched the mortal being that had wounded it for the only time in its long, long life. Its feelings were somewhere between fear and fascination- it had never bothered to follow up on any mortal before, but it had watched as Rosalind declared her major (in “biology”, but everyone knew she was Forbidden Major), had chartered a truce between some of the forbidden majors and the courts, had disappeared for three weeks and reappeared looking haggard but none the worse for wear. This was its last chance to see her up close, so for tonight, it was not hunting. It was… mingling.
It approached one of the party guests milling around. The boy smiled at it as it lightly prodded its influence to surround him.
“Hey,” he said. “It’s…”
“Windcutter,” Windcutter supplied.
“Right, Windcutter, from…”
“School."
"Windcutter from school,” he said, blinking and nodding. “I remember, yeah. How are you?”
This close, Windcutter could see the freckles on his face, smell the sweat on him, and it had to remind itself that it was there to see Rosalind, not to hunt. The boy was still smiling, it realized, waiting for it to answer as it stared hungrily at him.
“I am well,” it said, a truthful answer. “And you?”
“Looking forward to the rest of the night,” he said, leaning conspiratorially towards Windcutter. “I think you’ll really enjoy it.”
“Bond,” said a clear voice that Windcutter had listened to for three years, “are you monopolizing…”
“Windcutter,” Windcutter said again, turning the full force of its smile to Rosalind. Once again, it had the nagging feeling that something was off, and it had to resist the urge to scratch its shoulder.
“Are you monopolizing Windcutter?” Rosalind finished.
“Not if you want to talk to them,” Bond said. He flashed another charming smile at Windcutter, who made a mental note to see if he could be lured into the woods. “I’ll just go take care of other business, shall I?”
“Sure,” Rosalind said, rolling her eyes. “And make sure that the guards are on alert!” she yelled after his retreating form.
“Guards?” Windcutter said, tilting its head coquettishly to one side. It was just as well that it had glamor to cover for it- it could never remember how far humans were supposed to be able to do that. “Is something the matter?”
“Well, friend,” Rosalind said, then squinted quizzically at it. “Did I never tell you about this?”
“I believe not.”
“Huh.” She looked down. “Well, my friend, this may sound crazy, but I believe that something has been watching me for the past few years.”
“Watching you?” It could have laughed.
“It sounds farfetched, yes, but… I can feel its eyes on me, sometimes. I think I know what it is, too.”
“Do tell,” it purred.
“Do you remember my roommate?”
“Koi, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Rosalind looked away. “Koi. Well, something took her freshman year.”
“How terrible.” It couldn’t decide if it was relieved or disappointed; relieved it was in no danger, disappointed that Rosalind was so far below its estimation.
“I found her,” Rosalind said. “And that thing standing over her. It tried to make me… I don’t really know. Forget, or stop caring, but I was so angry that it just washed over me, and I stabbed it, and it ran.”
“How brave of you.” The creature shifted in place slightly. Something was definitely strange here. It felt… it didn’t know. Something.
“I didn’t really have much choice,” Rosalind said with a laugh. She drew a sword, idly flipping it in her hand. “It was instinct. I think if it was anything else, I wouldn’t be here today. Whatever it did- did you know, somehow it had managed to make her take off her iron and salt?”
The creature knew, of course it did, it-
Wait.
Rosalind was no fool. She couldn’t be, in order to have lived this long as a knight or a Forbidden Major. Protection was basic enough that even the newest and most naive knew to have it, to demand to see it.
And it had gotten this far without any protection at all. No lines of salt, no running water, nothing. The fact they hadn’t touched it with iron or salt could be put down to its power, but not the basic, rudimentary safety procedures for an outdoor party.
Alarm bells started ringing in Windcutter’s head. Who held a party outside, in the woods, in the dark?
“We were close, did you know that?” Rosalind continued. She still wasn’t looking at it. “She even told me her true name. Trusting to a fault."
"I… should go,” Windcutter said. It had ignored its instincts for too long. Something was wrong.
“It was Rosalind,” Rosalind said. “I never forgot.” And then, finally, she met its eyes.
Windcutter jerked back, a hiss of revulsion bubbling from its throat. It was not Rosalind’s eyes in her face: they glittered as if cut from gems, and, worse, it knew somehow that she could see it, really, see it. It felt suddenly like a butterfly pinned to paper, trying to squirm away from that horrible perception. It turned, still hissing, to see Bond returning, armed with a spear. He wasn’t smiling anymore, and now that it was looking, it realized that his eyes glittered similarly. All of the partygoers eyes did, they- they could all see it-
“A little deal with the Spring Queen,” Rosalind said conversationally behind it. “Three weeks of my time to serve her, and for every day, an hour of Sight and a clear mind for someone at my little soiree.”
It bolted then, half-mad with the eyes of the party boring into it. It sprinted into the woods, then screamed as it hit the salt line, scrambling back on burning feet. Of course there was a salt line now. They had lured it in.
“Tell me,” Rosalind said as it whirled. She was on guard now, sword out and willing. “Why did you watch me?”
“Never been hurt before,” it said, the truth being dragged out almost against its will. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was supposed to be above its prey.
“Really.”
“You’re leaving soon,” it said. Offering a deal was something it hadn’t done before, but it needed a way out, and Rosalind’s speech had given it an idea. “Let me out and I can promise you you’ll forget what happened to her. You can let go of the anger.”
“Who told you I was leaving?” Rosalind smiled, all teeth and no friendliness. “My classes are over, but I’m staying. Someone has to make sure beasts like you don’t hunt for too long.”
The creature hadn’t ever really had to fight; nobody had armed themselves against it, after all. Its claws slid out almost involuntarily as the fear and rage flowed through it, rendering it incapable of human speech. It hissed again defiantly.
“That’s right,” Rosalind said, her voice almost hypnotically soothing. “It’s you or me. One of us leaves tonight, the other one stays here forever.” Without moving her eyes from the creature, she jerked her head over her shoulder. “The salt line has a break in it behind me. Get through me, and you can leave.”
Frightened, cornered, the creature growled deep in its throat and unthinkingly sprang.
-bean
#stories#long post#bean#rosalind#windcutter#the knights#oh i loved this#bond#the forbidden majors#submission
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Behind these two white highway lines
Pairing: Erik Lehnsherr x gn!Reader
Summary: Erik and Reader always kept some distance, but they get a better glimpse of each other when they are tasked with bringing a new mutant to the school. The teen doesn’t like being a mutant, but Erik and Reader help him see the bright side of his identity.
Warnings and notes: This is a very self indulgent and obvious metaphor to how lonely it feels to be ‘the only one different’, and it’s not nearly as well written as it should be. There’s mentions of family discrimination, feelings of isolation, self-doubt and a journey to acceptance. But just... Not well written, for real. Other X-Men (First Class generation) are mentioned.
Word count: 2,641
Masterlist
Erik Lehnsherr was quite a mystery to you. He was close to Charles and Raven, and he was great at training with the kids, but you had never even had a full conversation with Erik. Even though you had gotten to know everyone else in the Institute after it became your home, the metal bender preferred to keep his distance. He wasn’t rude, just… Private, it seemed. Maybe he had something against you, or maybe he was like that with every new mutant. You wouldn’t be able to tell. The guy made you a little nervous, to be honest. He was serious, powerful, strong-willed and, of course, irritatingly handsome too. If he didn’t want to be bothered, the best you could do was let him be.
For months, that was exactly what you did. You kept teaching your classes and working on your powers, while Erik kept doing whatever Erik does. You rarely talked to each other, despite living in the same house. The Institute was always full and always busy, so there was no need for you two to exchange more than a few words, nothing beyond small talk or work-related communication. You still wondered what Lehnsherr was all about, for a while, the quiet balance worked.
The equilibrium started to crack when Charles gave you a mission. He had detected a new mutant, a teenager with human parents living out of state, and it seemed like the kid was having trouble controlling his abilities. The parents were more than grateful when Professor Xavier called and offered to help their son understand and use his power, but they couldn’t drive him to the institute. With everyone else busy, Charles chose you and Erik to bring the kid to the school.
It sounded like a simple task, but you felt nervous all the same. The road trip was a little awkward, but overall uneventful, with you driving there so Lehnsherr could drive on the way back. As far as you were told, the kid would be ready to go as soon as you arrived. You both got out of the car and Erik rang the doorbell, always keeping a safe distance from you, as if you were about to bite him. You tried not to role your eyes, focusing on your most welcoming smile – very important when meeting a student and their family. The door opened to reveal a fidgety mother, who looked at you and Erik as if you were a miracle.
“I am so glad you are here, we don’t know what else to do. I’m Christine Johnson. Please, come in.”
At the same time, you heard shouting coming from upstairs, with a distinct scream of ‘I am NOT going to that freak show’, followed by the bang of a door closing. You and Erik exchanged a look before introducing yourselves and following Mrs. Johnson to the living room. Nobody had informed the school of it, but you were more than familiar with that sort of conflict. Being a mutant wasn’t always easy, and being a mutant teenager with a bunch of human friends and relatives was a mess, most of the times.
“Please, make yourselves at home. I will go get Jay, we will be ready in just a minute.” Mrs. Johnson said, looking towards the stairs and back to you and Erik. Before she could leave, you took a step forward.
“Maybe we could talk to him first? He might feel more comfortable if he gets to know us a bit before leaving.” You offered, only then remembering to give Erik a glance. He nodded discreetly, ready to follow you. There was a tension on him that you weren’t used to witnessing, but you couldn’t wonder about that now. This kid needed guidance and support, and that was the reason you went to the Institute in the first place. Mutant kids deserved better than what the world usually offered them, and the X mansion was their best opportunity to have that.
“That is very kind of you, Professor, if you don’t mind trying… Come upstairs, he’s in his room.”
You both followed Mrs. Johnson to the hall of the second floor, where her husband was pilling up bags. She called him to help with the something in the kitchen and they practically run downstairs, in an obvious attempt to not be a part of the conversation. You took a deep breath, not wishing to lose your temper, but the way the parents seemed desperate to get rid of the problem made your blood boil. To your surprise, it was Erik who knocked on the bedroom door.
“Hello, Jay. I’m Erik. I am here with my colleague Y/N. We would like to talk to you for a minute, if that is okay.”
There was silence for a moment. Erik beside you in the narrow hall, more serious than you had ever seen him. You watched his expression get lighter when he heard the doorknob click. Jay opened the door and stared at the two strangers with childish curiosity, but quickly looked away and went back inside his room. He sat at the bed, absent mindedly playing with a ring of old keys in his hands.
“It’s nothing personal, but I won’t be going to your school. I already told my parents, if they want me to leave, I’ll just move in with my friend until I get a job. His parents said it’s all good. Sorry you had to drive all the way here for nothing, though.”
His tone broke your heart. You had heard it so many times before, seen so many scared kids who were tired of sticking out, terrified because the people supposed to love them the most just saw them as an issue to fix. You and Erik walked into the room together and you sat down on the floor, leaning against the bedside table. Jay’s eyes scanned you as if you were about to shoot lasers at him – and for all he knew, maybe you were – and even you were surprised when Erik followed you, sitting on the carpet too.
“Let’s start from the beginning. I’m Professor Y/N L/N and I work at the Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, which, as you might know, is home to many mutants, including myself and…” You gestured to Erik, who took your cue.
“I’m Erik Lehnsherr, also a Professor at Xavier’s and also a mutant. If you do not wish to join us, that is perfectly fine, but you could at least hear us out first. You know, to compensate for the long drive.” He opened his right hand, and Jay’s ring of keys came flying towards him, floating just above his palm.
You smiled at the way Jay stared, looking so lost, but also as if he had just been found. He looked so young, so starved for some understanding… Erik’s approach was a bit on the nose, but it was worth a try.
Since you entered the room, you had spotted the few plants that decorated the room, including a succulent on the table next to you. You reached up and grabbed it, touching the delicate flower that was just beginning to appear on top of it. At your touch, the flower grew, opening up in yellow and orange tones. Jay’s eyes went from you to Erik and back to you.
“What do you even do in there, though? I bet you’re not studying chemistry or something.”
You chuckled at that, and Erik had big grin when he answered.
“You would be surprised. Just because someone is blue, doesn’t mean they aren’t a science genius.”
“Blue as in sad or blue as in… Blue?” Jay probably sounded more invested than he intended to.
“Blue as in blue. Dr McCoy is a biochemistry expert, and he can also take down all three of us in a fight at the same time with very little effort. And he is blue, but he’s not the only one at that.” You explained, amused to see the kid look so curious.
“Actually, Hank couldn’t take me down unless the fight took place in a plastic prison, and even then it would be a close call.” Lehnsherr feigned offense, and you chuckled again. It was nice to see him being so casual and playful.
“No, it wouldn’t, but I won’t insist on that topic.” You turned back to the kid with a soft smile, while making a couple more flowers appear in the plant you were holding. “There’s a lot to discover at the school. You don’t have to stay there forever, but you could meet everyone, take a few classes and see if you like the place.”
“Sounds like all of you have everything figured out, uh?” As Jay spoke, a small flame emerged from his fingers, and he threw it from one hand to the other. “I’m not that good at keeping this under control.” There was a challenge in his eyes, as if he doubted that the school would be able to handle his abilities, even though you were used to students with powers way more complicated.
“Controlling all the metal near you isn’t as simple as it may seem. Most mutants are not in control of their powers when they first appear, but we can develop our abilities to degrees you can’t even dream of, Jay. That’s the reason Charles found the school in the first place – so all mutants can be safe and proud. I used to believe I was alone until he found me, and I was almost lost in my anger. The others allowed me to see that there is more than just one path for us.” Erik answered, making the keys fly back to their owner. Jay extinguished the flame and caught the keys midair. He remained in silence, so you continued Erik’s speech. Everything he had said really resonated with you, making you even more certain of the point you wanted to get across.
“You may make fire, but we have a guy who turns into and produces ice, a lady who can literally control the weather, some laser-shooters and a few telepaths and the list goes on. Even a seemly harmless mutation can be trouble, like when I have a nightmare and break the floor with tree roots growing out of nowhere, and the scariest powers can save all of us very often.” You felt Lehnsherr’s eyes on you, but you focused on Jay. You thought of how tiny you felt before you knew of others like you, remembering the desperation of dealing with a part of yourself that nobody around you could know, because they would never have to handle something similar. Until you were surrounded by other mutants, you were never able to allow yourself to just be.
“We know how hard it is to be the only one that is different. Pardon my language, but it royally sucks, doesn’t it? It gets lonely and terrifying, and it seems like there’s not a single person in your life that can understand. But we do. We have all been through it, one way or the other, and it gets much easier and much more fun when you have a community, if you’re willing to give us a chance.” The honesty in your words was undeniable. Even though no two mutants were the same, and each of the residents of the X Mansion had their own past and their identities, with the x gene being just one aspect of who they were, finding your community had being freeing in ways you didn’t even know you needed. There were still many barriers to face, and a lot of grief for everything that couldn’t be. It wasn’t fair, and it still hurt, but it didn’t hurt after you became more comfortable in yourself. The love you had for every mutant in the institute and the bonds you created made you see yourself in a brand new light, and you had seem the same magic happen to many others. You hoped it would happen to Jay too.
“I’m not just talking of making the burden less heavy. I’m talking of honestly understanding that there isn’t a burden at all. Even if I said I was proud of myself, I wasn’t really happy to be me until I was with the others. Now, when I say I’m a mutant and proud, I mean it. I know how strong, how amazing, how brilliant we are, and I’d never change a thing. I wish the world wasn’t as tough on us, I wish we didn’t have to be strong, but kid, I’m really thankful and proud to say that we can take it, and we’re worth standing up for and celebrating.” You finally stopped talking, feeling a bit self conscious about how much you had said, but opening up was worth it if it gave Jay a better chance of experience those changes. Before you could say more, though, Erik spoke again.
“I had an entire mutant pride speech ready, but I believe Y/N spoke for us both on what really matters here. Give it a try. If the school isn’t for you, you can come back to your friend’s house with some interesting stories.” You smiled at his words, waiting for Jay’s answer.
“Will someone drive me back here if I don’t stay or do I have to find a new ride?” The kid was already getting up and collecting stuff around the room. Erik stood up and offered you his hand. You took it, standing up too and smiling at him.
“Maybe our teleport guy will be back by then. We usually take the road when we’re inviting a new student, but we’ll figure something out.” Erik replied, which gained him an impressed look from Jay.
“Of course there’s a teleport guy. You could have lead with that.” He continued gathering his belongings but, besides the plants, there wasn’t a lot more to pack. Most of the stuff was already in the bags in hall. Jay arranged most of the plants in a metal shelf so they would be easier to carry, but he shook his head when you tried to hand him the succulent in your left hand. “You keep that one. She likes you.”
You nodded, turning around to leave the room and help bring the bags to the car. Only then you noticed that you were still holding Erik’s hand. You let your hand fall, but the two of you didn’t stand so distant to each other now. All three mutants walked out of the room and divided the bags among you, with Lehnsherr showing off and making every metal object float to the front door. Once everything was in the car, Jay went to talk to his parents. There were tears and goodbyes and promises of behaving, but you and Erik stayed outside to give the family some privacy. The Johnsons might not be the best parents a mutant could get, but they were still Jay’s mom and dad, and the process would be important for him.
While you two waited, you decided to break the silence.
“Turns out we can make a good team, Lehnsherr.”
“Wait to see if the kid comes running back home when he sees Alex explode something before you start to boast.”
“Oh, shut up. Alex will be his favorite.”
“Yeah, he will. And we do make a good team.”
The conversation was cut short when the Johnsons came out of the door, with Mrs. Johnson hugging Jay. You and Erik promised to take care of him and finally got in the car. The ride back to the institute was a little less awkward and silent, even though the kid fell asleep in half an hour. You could definitely count that day as a win.
#erik lehnsherr#erik lehnsherr x reader#x men#marvel#erik lehnsherr imagine#erik lehnsherr m#marvel m#x men m#m
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Wyrn x Reader (Anonymous Protagonist) Sfw
(A sleepy demon and a lil sassin protagonist eeeee♡♡♡♡ )
You know you could have it worse off, thank goodness you didn't have to deal with Barbeus, who was known to have a smoking hot temper, or Zelle. Zelle. He was the one who ran the medical district. You’ve heard all sorts of rumors about his workers and what insane things they were tasked to do at odd hours of the night.
But he was going to drive you crazy- You knocked on his door for what it felt like the one hundredth time this morning. "Sir? Are you awake yet? There are at least five people who have asked for you, and I have a summons here for your brother Oren-- Hello?"
Silence.
That does it, you grind your teeth, fighting with the door knob above you before storming into his room. You are met with an enchanted sky full of stars and a dreamy swirling cosmos-- no wonder this guy can sleep his life away.
Wyrn was sitting on top of his round bed, meditating peacefully. His pale blue skin almost shimmering underneath the strange sky that filled his room. The eye on the middle of his forehead opens to regard you. "Good morning," He intones with his sleepy musical voice.
"Morning?" You echo in disbelief-- "Morning was three HOURS ago!"
You grab the heavy curtains and pull them aside, sunlight flooding into the room and making his eye crinkle as it squints from the sudden burst of light.
"I'm sorry sir, but I don't think this is a good time to meditate when there is so much to do," As you talk he takes the parchment from you, his middle eye glancing over them and folding it up as you continue to talk, trying to impress the importance to him about what has been going on. He flops over on the bed and his other eyes flutter open to gaze at you. "But I'm lazy." His expression is deadpan as he watches you. Your voice catches in your throat, "Ah-" You splutter, attempting to regain your composure, flabbergasted as he blinks at you with a steady gaze and bored resolve. H-how are you supposed to respond to that???
You grumble and chew on your cheek pacing the hall as Wyrn gets ready for the day. Finally. Working with him you have felt like a babysitter at times, he could be so childish!! There was one day he dozed off in the middle of one of his own speeches! You almost hadn't realized until a hushed murmur went over the crowd. You had been frantically trying to wake him up by tugging on his pant leg behind the scenes. That was a fiasco!! You can still feel your stomach curl in on itself as you think back to it.
But the most irritating thing of all. . . was despite his lax carefree nature, he usually was paces ahead of everyone else. No matter how much he sleeps in or slacks off, he is extremely intelligent and is usually patiently waiting for everyone else to catch up. Things were usually done quickly, precisely and orderly. You couldn't place how you felt about him, your emotions ranging from pure frustration to awe. You give a drawn out exasperated sigh, there was also this nagging feeling, in the back of your head that he could read minds or something, he would smile at you like he knew some little secret-- as if you didn't have any more cause to be nervous! You shake your head, you didn't know what to think of Wyrn at all. . . he was an enigma.
Your hunch about his punctuality was correct, as soon as he left his room, those tasks you had bombarded him with were yet again all done. You squint at him suspiciously but all he offers you is a knowing smile.
"My younger brother is showcasing his flower festival today. . . would you like to accompany me after we have had our tea?"
You look up at him and frown, finding the offer strange, "Ah. . . n-no thank you, I have some things I have to do here still." You wag your finger at him pouting, "Unlike you-- I have to do things the hard way! I can't just magic my way out of doing work! Mr. Lazy!" He smiles at you good naturedly, a large hand settling on top of your head, patting you affectionately. "I am sure the work can wait, but if that is what you wish. . ."
You rub the top of your head pouting again. You don't even know why he has an assistant if he can juggle everything himself just fine. You almost wonder if it was inspired by his younger brother, who also had a human working along side of him. . . But at least they worked together and got along! You find yourself alone in the hallway, as Wyrn had left to visit his sibling. You catch your breath and sigh, crossing your arms and squinting off into the distance. You snort and huff as you busy yourself with completing your tasks. Trying to get that kind smile out of your minds eye. Just what was he up to? Asking for you to come along? You give a grin, tapping your forehead, “Jeeze. . . He was probably trying to find a way to lose me in the crowd! And then he’d just go back to napping!” You snort and roll your eyes, trying to ignore the warmth of your cheeks.
When you had the time to peek up at the clock you found that time had flown by faster than you had realized. You were hurrying to gather your things and put them away-- no doubt your boss would be back soon. You had your back bent over some papers, flipping through them as you double checked the dates, making sure they were in order You were lost in your thoughts when Wyrn calls your name. It was almost so soft you didn't hear it at first, your head snapping up in surprise as you realized he was trying to get your attention. As you look up you are greeted by a bouquet of delicate blue and white flowers. You start to say something but you end up just staring instead, looking from the flowers to the demon.
Wyrn smiles softly, a clawed hand taking yours and gently setting the flowers into your hand. "This is my thanks for putting up with me as much as you do. I know I can be frustrating at times. I shall try not to fluster you so much. . ." You feel your face go hot as he rises back to his full height and walks away. The only thing your mind vaguely comprehending at the moment was the echo of footfalls down the corridor. You blink and shift from foot to foot, staring down at the pretty arrangement of flowers.
". . . . . . . . . . . . .,"
You let your head sink, the soft petals brushing against your cheeks.
He had taken you by surprise yet again. When you think you finally have figured him out, he would find some way to surprise you with something new.
There were still days when it was the same old shenanigans, he would rise late and you would huff and fume, telling him off for being lazy. He would take your criticism gracefully, but there would be a playful glint in his eye when he would smile at you. You had never noticed that before. You found yourself being tied up in his mysteries again, he had gotten into the habit of bringing you little gifts whenever he would have to leave. He would offer for you to accompany him, but you would turn him down. You would wonder if those little gestures meant something more than kindness. You managed to snap yourself out of those daydreams! Pushing away those thoughts until the next morning, and the next.
It was morning yet again, and curtains of sunlight streamed in through the windows. Wyrn has yet to rise today, and you had the age old task to wake him. But you had a bounce in your step this morning, looking up at the bundle of blankets as you grin evily, your hands grabbing a fistful of the airy summer blankets, with all intent and purpose in your wee gremlin heart to throw it off of him and give him a rude awakening.
But alas! Your plans are thwarted. Your eyes grow wide as you are picked up and carefully settled down onto his bed. You freeze your shoulders tensing as you stare at him. Wyrn rests his hand on his cheek, smiling lovingly at you, “Good morning,” He muses in his soft musical tone. “Y-you weren’t asleep--” You splutter in horror, and he shakes his head. “That is correct.” you puff up, indignantly, “W-why--” Wyrn smiles with amusement tilting his head, “Why? I wanted to beat you at your own game.” You feel your cheeks prickle with warmth, you stammer, your expression becoming huffy. Wyrn chuckles warmly and smiles, “Besides. . . I wanted to talk to you.” You snort, “You could have just talked to me when you got up! Why do it this way?”
A clawed finger carefully sweeps a lock of hair from your forehead, “I wanted to talk to you alone. . .” he purrs softly, “I wanted to tell you. . . that I enjoy your company, and our playful banter,” You sweat inwardly, you might have felt a little too fired up at times to consider it playful. “You know. . .,” He murmurs softly, “I do not have much interest in the everyday goings on, as you very well know. I tend to keep my eyes to the stars. . . and my head in the clouds. . . but then you came along, and that changed everything.” You chance a glance in his direction, your eyebrows knitting together, “B-but why?. . .” Wyrn blinks sleepily, thinking for a moment. “There’s a lot of reasons, some that I may not be able to entirely explain in words, perhaps it is something to do with fate. That destiny has bound us together. But ever since you came. . . I wished to be a part of your world..” He laughs, “But perhaps it’s more simple, working with you, and getting to know you has been a delight. You are so energetic and animated I don’t know how you can have so much energy.”
Your heart was hammering rapid fire into your throat, and you scoot away from him. Flustered and frazzled, staring at him. “I don’t get it. . .”
“Mm?” Wyrn’s swishes back and forth lazily, “I suppose I am asking. . . in a round about way. . . if you would take me as your one and only. Or if you would consider it. . .”
Your eyes go wide, “Wh-what?” the way his pale yellow eyes stared into you made your throat tighten. “Th-that’s really corny-- you’re teasing me aren’t you?” You stammer, Wyrn frowns softly and shakes his head. “I do mean every word of it. . .” You look down and fall quiet. When you don’t respond, he starts to get up, “You do not have to feel as if you are forced to feel the same way. All I wanted to do was to tell you how I feel, and I do mean every word of it. What you choose to do with that information is entirely up to you dear one. . .”
You reach up, your hands fingers splayed. “W-wait. . .” You bite your lip, your mind hesitating for a moment before you sit up on your knees, giving him a little kiss before you fluster. Wyrn blinks slowly before he smiles. “I also. . .” You murmur slowly, “like being by your side. Even if I’ve felt frusterated at times. . .” “Frusterated?” He teases you gently, carefully nuzzling against you, “When have you ever felt that?” You grumble something softly in response and he laughs. “I shall try to be more conciderate,” He says sweetly, smiling at you as his eyes crinkle up. Carefully leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead. “I am sure there is a lot to do today, just like every other.” He sits up and stands, stretching his arms up and back as you slide off the bed. You allow yourself a shy smile and nod, “At least you are up in time for breakfast this morning. . .” Wyrn perks up and smiles. “You shall join me for morning tea then?”
You nod again, following him quietly out of his room, stifling a yawn of your own.
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Their Doll 15
Bucky
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: Tony throws a party, bucky returns
Warnings: kissing, swearing
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
It's been nearly six months since I escaped HYDRA a second time, and since then all me and Steve have done is have sex. It's glorious, the freedom (and the pleasure) that comes with being with Steve, and I love him more and more every day. He told me he loved me about a months ago, over a candle-lit dinner and a bunch of roses. It was so sweet, but I am yet to say the words back to him. Well, not that I've been talking much, per say.
My voice was slowly returning, yet I still couldn't string together more than two words and my voice was far from being strong or sounding like it used to.
Bruce had miraculous found some medication that helped, and abashedly admitted that if the sex was helping me make any noise, it should continue.
One of the main issues, is that almost everyone except my dad had been walking on eggshells around me for months. And in new exactly why. It's because they're yet to bring him the soldier.
And if I'm being a hundred percent honest, I'm slightly happy they haven't yet. After all, I don't know if I could bury my feelings towards him and that wouldn't be fair to Steve. And yet in being fair to Steve, I was being cruel to the soldier. After all, to make Steve comfortable, I'm mentally condemning the soldier to continue the horrid and violent lifestyle that comes with HYDRA.
I shake the overcrowding thoughts off, resetting my stance before landing a pinch to the bag.
"Good." Steve praises, stood beside the swinging bag with his arms crossed over his chest. I continue to punch it hard, focusing more on the strength than the technique as I try and will away the flurries thoughts in my mind. "Why don't we try that thing you always get wrong?" Steve asks, almost mockingly. I shoot him a glare. He chuckled, unwrapping my fists for my before bringing me over to the table where our water sat. I took a big pull of the refreshing liquid, barely paying attention as Steve readies the targets.
When I saunter over, he hands me a set of small, but agile, blades before stepping away. I clear my throat, putting myself into the correct stance before giving my boyfriend a nod. Steve nods back, pressing the button before the human-shaped targets begin to move. They're staggered, the last one so far back I can never seem to hit the bullseye. No matter how many times a I try - which is at least once a day - I can never hit it.
The aim is to hit the targets in order of closest to furthest, burying the blade in the mannequins' chests where the red dots it. I take a deep breath, letting my wrist fall loose. I release the blade of my exhale, watching with narrowed eyes as it sinks itself into the black dummy's chest. I let out a breath I was holding, moving onto the next one. Bullseye. Bullseye. Bullseye. Onto the last target, my vision focused, my mind centred on the farther and the target only.
Inhale. Focus. Exhale. Throw.
"Holy shit!" I exclaimed, before my hand quickly flys to my mouth, slapping over my lips in shock. It was almost cartoonish, the way Steve's eyes widened like a deer in headlights before the brightest, wolfish grin became his lips.
The knife had wizzed through the air, breezing past the other targets before the tip was piercing smoothly through the little red dot at its heart. Bullseye.
"Holy shit." I repeat, a smile pulling the corners of my mouth up. Steve rushed forward, engulfing my knees a bone-crushing hug before lifting me from the ground and spinning around with me in his arms.
"You spoke!" He rejoiced.
"I can talk! My voice - it's back!" I was starstruck, completely and utterly speechless. I can talk.
"Holy shit indeed." A voice came from behind us.
"Tony." Steve greeted as he let me down, my feet already carrying me across the room until I was enveloped in my dad's arms too.
"We should celebrate. I'm throwing you a party." Tony decided, placing a kiss to my hair. "Tonight. Wear something nice, both of you." He pulled away, looking pointedly at me and Steve before retreating with a smile.
...
I stood before my mirror, hands smoothing over the dark blue fabric laying over my hips. I breathed deeply, head tilting to the side as I studied myself. I wore a silky blue dress that cling to my waist and fell elegantly down from my hips, hitting my ankles and presenting a thigh-high slit on one side. The dress barely had a back, the front showing just enough cleavage to be considered teasing. Around my neck I wore a necklace steve had given me the night he told me he loved me, and I couldn't help but breath out a laugh at the small silver Captain America shield charm hanging from it. I wore some shoes I new I'd regret - trainers. Plain, white canvas shoes that totally ruined the look. But I'd never worn heels before, and I didn't feel like embarrassing myself at my own party.
My hair fell over my shoulders in loose curls, make up simple as I never tended to wear any anyway.
I took a deep breath, opening my room door to be greeted by Steve. He was dashing, clad in a navy blue suit and tie, his hair slightly messy bit in a hot way, and his blue eyes gleaming.
"You look breathtaking, doll." He commented, eyes scanning over my body, clearly lingering on the slit in my dress. I smirked slightly, looping my arm with his outstretched one.
"You look rather handsome yourself." I smiled sweetly, not missing the way steve held back a laugh when he finally noticed my choice of footwear. "Hey!" I laughed, slapping his arm playfully.
"I'm sorry, doll. I just didn't quite expect it." He sniggered, making me scoff and roll my eyes.
"And what did you expect? Three foot tall, strappy heels? When have you even seen me in anything besides trainers or tactical boots, Rogers?" I asked pointedly, shutting Steve up. When we reached the main room when my part was already in full swing, Steve pulled my close to him, coaxing a gasp from my lips.
"And where would you be hiding your knives tonight?" Steve murmured in my ear, nibbling on the lob as his arm kept me firmly pressed against him. It was a little joke we'd formed, as every time I was out in public steve managed to find a knife on me somewhere - in a pocket, down my bra, tucked into the waistband of whatever I was wearing, you name it. To anyone else, we simple looked to be having a normal conversation like any couple would've, but it was much more than that. I assumed in his question Steve was referring to my backless dress that hung so low there's no way I'd even find a way to wear underwear with it. So I went without.
"If tonight goes how I'm planning, you'll have plenty of time to find out for yourself." I whispered against his neck, smirking when his adam's apple bobbed. I sauntered away slowly, making sure my hips swayed as I walked.
The party flew by, people I could hardly remember greeting me and telling me how much they'd missed me as if they'd been some kind of surrogate mother or something to me.
That's where I currently found myself, a fake smile so big it was probably obvious plastered over my face as I nodded along whenever May said something. Peter stood beside her, champagne flute that I just new was filled with appletiser clutched in his hand, smirk hidden behind the rim of the glass at my pained expression.
"So how long have you been home?" May asked, smile so genuine it was embarrassing how fake my own was.
"Only about six months." I smiled back, eyes darting around the room nervously looking for an escape.
"Six months?! You should've met up with Peter sooner! You would've hung out with her, right Peter?" May exclaimed, turning to her nephew who was clearly trying to hold back a snigger as he answered with a quick 'of course'. I sent him a glare that briskly morphed back into a smile the second May was turned my way again.
The smile turned much more real the second I saw my dad climb up onto the table across the room, glass and spoon in his hands. May and Peter spun to look at him along with everyone else in the room when the captivating sound of the metal clanging gracefully against the champagne flue echoed in the room.
"Thank you, thank you, everyone!" Tony called, chatter diminishing in the crowd at his voice. A smile - an actual smile - graced my lips when I realised he was making a speech about me being home. "I'm just here tonight, talking to you all, about my daughter!" Tony began, a small applause following as many pairs of eyes sought for me in the crown.
"You know, the day I found you laying on my doorstep," he stated, taking a swig of his drink, "I thought: how the hell am I gonna raise this stupid ass kid that's been dumped on my like some sort of...animal." I gasped, tears bubbling in my eyes. I thought we were past this- this hate. "This fucking bastard that's come from the filthy streets."
"Tony, that's enough." Nat says from where she stood beside the table, tugging the man's ankle in an attempt to get him down.
"You're drunk." Steve stated from beside him, anger written over his usually perfect features.
"It's all you! It's you, y/n!" He shouted.
"Dad.." I mumbled through my tears, every head in the room locked on my as my bottom lips wobbled aggressively.
"You killed me the day you showed up, and ever day I see you I realise how much I regret taking you in, raising you as my own." He spat with a venom I'd never heard in my dad's voice before.
"Tony!" Steve shouted, but he merely pushed the super soldier's words aside.
"You're not special, y/n! And you never were! Just a Thorne in my side," he explained, climbing down from the table with a slight drunken wobble. "That's why I picked Peter. Smart, agile, unique." He rambled on, making his was through the sea of people that parted instantly for him until he was right in front of me, Peter and May. "So why don't you make this easy, and don't make me chose between you a second time." Tony claimed.
"What? Because you'd chose him?" I sobbed, hand covering my mouth as I bit back the tears.
"Tony, don't!" Steve snapped, now at my side and holding his hands on my hips possessively.
"If you chose him over you're own daughter, Tony...I swear to god somebody better hide you in the time it takes me to find a gun." Nat glared, standing to my side with a wicked look in her eyes.
"Y/n is your daughter." Bruce tried to reason, flinching away when Tony shot him a look that could kill.
"Yeah, I'd chose him." Tony finally settles, silence ensuing after the piercing shatter of a glass broke the room. May stood there, broken glass at her feet and mouth open so wide her jaw must've physically hurt.
"Y/n, I- I am so sorry.." Peter barely whispered from beside May, his own face red from a mixture of threatening tears and embarrassment. I have Tony a dirty look, leaning forward slightly and spitting at the ground in front of him.
"Fuck you." I bit like a viper, spinning harshly on my heel and storming from the room, trying so hard to hide my tears until I was out of sight.
Once I'd reached the stairs, I was kicking my heels off and springing up the steps, two at a time. Reaching the top, I clutched the railing for a second as if to ground myself as a sob ripped through me, my palm covering my mouth again as if it could stop the sounds. I padded quickly across the carpeted floor, fumbling with the handle of my door before pushing it open blindly, stumbling inside.
A sharp gasp was stolen from me when I walked in, more tears clouding my eyes. I hastily swiped them away with my palms, desperate to get a good look of the man before me. His cerulean eyes, long and thick dark hair, his undeniably visible metal arm...
Then his lips met mine. Not desperate or hard like usual, but gentle and slow, as if I would shatter to a thousand pieces if he even held my soft face with too much pressure. "Y/n." he said seriously, but a small smile still glistening in his deep blue eyes. "Soldier." I responded, reflecting his playful seriousness. He pulled me in for another passionate kiss, my whole body relishing in its tenderness. The soldier bought his mouth next to my ear, leaning over me and holding my waist carefully. My thoughts raced one another over and over, but there was always a clear winner: I had him back.
His compassionate whisper floated past my ear, dancing around the loose curls of hair that were tucked messily behind my ear, a whirlwind of emotions tunnelling through me, allowing the butterflies to roam free as he murmured "It's Bucky, by the way."
"We're done."
A frown settled across my face, my head snapping the the side to see Steve stood gobsmacked and clearly hurt in the door. He must've followed me, to make sure I was alright and now he's seen this, and - how long had he been standing there?
"Steve, it's not what it looks like." Bucky tried, now also looking at the Super Soldier.
"So it's not my best friend kissing my girl? Hm?" Steve almost whimpered, as if the words physically hurt him to say.
"Well, yes, but-"
"No. No buts. I don't give a shit what you have to say." Steve interjected me, the harshness of his voice cutting through me like a knife. "Have a nice fucking life." He spat, before turning and retreating out of the door. I started wistfully after him, before glancing back to Bucky and opening my mouth to speak.
"Go. I'll talk to you later." He answered for me, a reassuring glint in his blue-grey eyes. I gave him a small nod and a grateful smile before instantly running after Steve.
"Steve! Steve, wait!" I called after him, but the man's strides were so damn long I couldn't catch up to him even whilst running. "Please, let me explain!" He turned around at that, my body colliding with the wall of muscle that was his torso.
"What's there to explain, y/n?" He said, defeated.
"I- I don't really know. I just don't want to lose you." I murmured, placing my hands of his chest and looking up at the man through my lashes. He wrapped his hands around my wrists before yanking them away from his chest, tears stinging in my eyes. "I love you, Steve." I whispered, for the first time. Steve averted his gaze with a frustrated sigh.
"It's a little too late for that. You can tell Bucky he won't be hearing from me either." Steve spoke, dropping my wrists and turning to leave again. I didn't follow him this time, I didn't call after him, I just sunk to my knees, head in my hands, and cried.
#smut#image#images#winter soldier smut#winter soldier#winter solider fanfiction#captain america smut#captain america fanfiction#captain america#chris evans#chris evans smut#seb stan#sebastian stan#sebastian stan smut#steve rogers image#steve rogers x reader#steve x bucky#steve roger fanfic#steve rogers#steve rogers smut#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky Barnes smut#bucky Barnes x you#bucky Barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#marvel fanfic#marvel smut#marvel#avengers
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kiss me hard before you go
Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x Reader
Angst because someone (not naming any names) *cough* @lilypadscoven is too happy to write angst. Such a strange excuse, i know. Like whose even happy anymore? That’s so 2014, Freya.
Warning: Angsty as shit! I think. Idk im usually a happy person. Mentions of cheating, mentions of smut etc.
Requests are open!
taglist: @sarahp-stan @jumpoffabridge-t @sarahpaulsonsoftie @definitelynot-a-writer @bottom4delia @delias-bitch-craft @creepingwolfberry @thesapphictimelady @goodeday2u @that-fucking-error @saucy-sapphic @sarahp-stan @winters-witch-bitch @rainbow-hedgehog @pearplate
You frowned to yourself, flicking through the endless posts on Instagram. It was some godforsaken hour in the morning and no matter how hard you tried or how deeply you tried to ease your restless mind you could not fall asleep. You scrolled on social media endlessly.
God, what time could it even be? 04.27.
You gave a defeated chuckle. Even time was in on the universe’s cruel joke. She exited Instagram and went to messages. You couldn’t count the number of unsent messages and thrown out speeches you had started and couldn’t bring yourself to finish.
Billie Dean Howard.
The contact had found itself hidden deep in the archives of old messages. You hadn’t contacted her since December when you had walked away.
Walking away was better that being the one left behind, or so you had tried so hard to tell yourself. In hindsight, the truth was that Billie Dean was going to end up leaving you anyway. Was it courage of conviction or just the simple knowledge that you couldn’t live knowing that the only person you had ever opened your heart to was going to leave you?
What was the last thing she said anyway?
Goodnight :(.
Always with those stupid text faces. Those stupid, adorable text faces. How did she have such a powerful effect on you that you could see Billie’s face in a colon and a bracket? Why hadn’t you blocked her yet? What was left to hold onto other than movie-like memories that had slipped away like the changing of seasons.
You slipped from beneath the covers, Your hair tickled Your shoulders. There was no one beside you for you to reach for in your infinite loneliness anyway. It wasn’t infinite. Why did it feel infinite? Why did you allow one person to waltz into your heart and make you home there? You reached for an unopened bottle of wine and paused. Billie had left this bottle there. You never drank unless it was around Billie.
“Dom Perignon,” Billie told you. You were never interested in the details of fine wine. All you knew was that the older it was the more people liked it.
“Isn’t that expensive?” The brunette asked, reading the label.
Billie nodded with a throaty chuckle. “Only the best for my girl. I thought I would save it for a special occasion.”
A special occasion. You chuckled in spite. The occasion in question was supposed Billie’s birthday. A party with many guests. One too many. The house was brimming with sets of both of your friends. You could recall reaching for the same wine all too well before being stopped by your friend’s girlfriend. Erin took you by the wrist and guided you out to the garden.
“No one’s out here,” you protested. Erin’s face was almost forlorn.
“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”
Sorry for what? You snapped out of your confusion. You could see the side of Billie’s body. Pressed against the wall beneath someone else. The anxiety had somehow eased when you watched Billie kiss another, fading into nothing because you knew that there was quite literally nothing that could get even worse than what you were watching.
You pursed her lips. When you imagined these moments, you had always imagined screaming bloody murder. You imagined punching and yelling. You couldn’t move. No tears. Hell, you couldn’t even feel. Erin grabbed your arm and trailed you back, but not before the sight of you, heartbroken in a red dress. had registered in Billie. She barely had time to pull away from her kiss and have the shock of what she was actually doing register.
It was always a red dress. Red dresses end up in heartbreak. A goddamn blaze in the dark.
Now, you found yourself standing at the window that looked out into the garden. Looking at the spot where you had seen her lover betray every bit of trust that you had. What would have happened if you didn’t see? What if you had seen but Billie didn’t? Would you have said anything? Would Billie have said anything?
It doesn’t matter anyway.
Billie was wine. Aromatic, warm in her stomach. She was a magnificent swirl. She was the impossible to hide stain on your favourite white dress.
Every inch of this house had Billie in its essence. She was inescapable.
It got even worse when a buzzing noise brought your attention to your phone. “Who the fuck could that be?” you asked yourself. Your heart dropped at the contact.
Billie Dean Howard is calling...
Your world collapsed for a moment as you stared at the phone buzz. Your head told you not to answer, your heart launched for it like a desert oasis. You let it ring a moment too long. You barely managed to blurt out a cracked, “Hello?” when Billie hung up. Presumably giving up.
You bit your lip. Your thumb hovered over the redial button as you fought with yourself. Maybe she’ll call again. That’s a huge maybe. Your finger jolted down unintentionally. Billie picked up on the third ring.
“Y/N?” Her breath hitched. “Y/N, can you hear me?”
You swallowed hard. “I’m here,” you stated flatly, “I can hear you.”
“I didn’t think you’d answer.”
“Honestly,” you replied. You felt no need for warmth. “I don’t think I meant to.”
“Oh. Uhm, how- how are you?”
“What do you want, Billie? It’s five in the morning,” You cut off. You could hear Billie’s breath falter a little.
“To be honest, I just wanted to see if you would pick up.”
You shook your head, cursing how well you knew the medium. “Don’t lie to me, Howard.”
Billie chuckled. “How can you tell?”
“You were the medium, but I was the human lie detector.”
“You’re a lawyer with an Irish mother and Scilian father. It would be more shocking if you weren’t one.”
You smiled, before catching yourself in an eyeroll. “Don’t change the subject.”
“I’m in town. I wanted to see you.”
“It’s five in the fucking morning.”
“You’re telling me that I actually woke you up? You were sleeping when I called?”
You bit your lip. “Yes.”
Billie chuckled again. Like it was a fucking game to her. “Well, now who’s lying?”
“What do you want, Billie?” You scoffed.
“I already told you. I want to see you.”
The audacity of the last sentence. The fact that you knew Billie Dean would come whether or not she was invited boiled your blood.
“Why.” It was more of a flat remark than a genuine question. Why. Why now.
Billie was silent for a moment. “I just want to see your face.”
Your groaned internally, another eyeroll coming into play. You scoffed. “You know the address. Find your own way over.”
And she did. The door knocked almost immediately.
You opened the door so quickly that it creaked aggressively.
“You have some fucking nerve. You know that right?” You snapped. The medium’s eyes widened in shock.
“Nice to see you too.”
You stepped aside and ushered her in, cold from the whipping air. Refreshing if you weren’t standing in shorts and a cardigan.
Billie turned around to face her. Tension grew, like insulation keeping everything in. You could choke on all the words you never said.
“You look beautiful.”
“Je vais te tuer avec mes mains nues et dormir comme un bébé après.”
“I’m flattered.”
You groaned and walked away from her and into the kitchen. You didn’t know if you would slap her, kill her, or kiss her. You were just as prepared to strangle her as you were to fuck her hard on the kitchen floor then and there, kissing every single freckle and mole on her skin. “You have three minutes,” You muttered, pouring yourself a cup of coffee to stop yourself from looking in Billie’s direction. Your heart raced at a thousand miles a second.
“I just dropped in to say hi.”
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
You were unamused. “Is that it? Are you going get out of my life again?”
Billie frowned. “Am I? Y/N, you left me.”
“Because you fucking cheated on me, Billie Dean! What? Did you want me to pretend I didn’t see it? Pretend nothing happened? Do you want me to pretend that you didn’t rebuild my ability to trust people just so you could knock it down yourself?” You shouted. The words were coming out thick and fast now apparently.
“I was so drunk, Y/N,” Billie whimpered, her eyebrows furrowed. She was in genuine pain, you could see the guilt right in her brown eyes.
And you couldn’t give a shit.
“I’ve heard this a hundred times.”
“How many times do I have to say sorry for this?”
You raised your mug to your lips. “You can say it until I’m dead.”
You met the medium’s gaze. Brown eyes waterlogged with tears. Billie dipped her face in her hands. “I don’t know if I can go through with this again.”
You snapped again. “Good,” you said. “Because I’m done.”
“You can’t be serious.”
The pair met, closer than you had in months.
“No matter what stupid, thoughtless, selfish, idiotic, drunken things you said or did. No matter how many times. I have never stopped loving you. I’ve never fallen out of love no matter how many times I told myself I had. I haven’t gone to sleep without imaging your goddamn mouth on my lips and hands on my body and I fucking crave to hate you for it,” you spat, venom on you tongue and tears spilled down your face. “I don’t sleep, Billie. I don’t sleep because I know your arms aren’t there to hold me when I’m still awake at four in the morning. Because I can’t reach across the bed no matter how angry I am at you and feel your hair. I fucking love you goddammit. You threw that away. Not me.”
Tears streamed down Billie’s face. “I regret what I did every. Single. Fucking. Day. I miss coming home and seeing you writing those stupid fucking reports that I know you hate writing because I know you hate your job. I miss seeing your face when you’ve won a case that has been scratching you for weeks,” she inched forward once more, her hands close to Mallorie’s face. “I miss seeing you reorganising the goddamn silverware every few weeks to keep the Fair Folk happy in the same way I miss seeing the way your mouth curls when you come.”
You scanned Billie Dean, searching despreately for a bluff, something that would give way to the fact that this was all a lie; a gimmick for a one night stand so that you could just shut her out and go back to hating her. Hating the person you love is so much easier than having your heartbroken again. You couldn’t find that bluff. Even your gut-instinct that panged you when someone lied to you wasn’t alerting anything. Billie’s words were as genuine as her tears and it was killing you to see that Billie loved you. The lawyer had hoped- prayed even- that the medium’s words had been bullshit, sweet nothings that could be whispered into the ear of any lover that had fallen into her bed. But you weren’t just a one time fling that had walked into a casual meet. You had walked into her long-term girlfriend with her tongue down another’s throat. You had stashed that little red box with a diamond engagement ring inside even further into the closet that night, and that’s what had hurt you.
A raw truth in her words soaked into you. Refreshed you. They were the words that the ocean screamed back at you when you stood on the cliffside begging for a reason to go on.
And so you gave in. Almost, at least. You stepped forward into Billie and allowed her storm to engulf you. There was no calm here. There was a raging appetite for destruction and creation. What was that lyric? A tornado has met a volcano. Her lips ravaged yours to the point of being rubbed raw, the type of sting that bothered virtually every moment of your waking day, one that went on for days. You bit down on her lips, her tongue, her chin and cheek. Whether in was in spite or the desperation to seek and find every single piece of her that you could was unclear.
Those fateful memories crept back, and you pushed hard against her chest. Billie’s lips, now red, white and swollen, pressed against yours again, retracting when there was no return.
“I’m sorry,” you lied. “I think there’s a possibility that I don’t love you.”
Billie’s eyes resembled a broken mirror, or maybe the view of a dying star. The thing about dying stars is that they died a very long time ago and you only notice years later. She nodded with a weak smile. “I understand,” she whispered, pressing her head against yours. She picked up her bag and turned to leave.
You stopped her. What on Earth were you doing? Let her leave so you can hate her in peace.
“Kiss me. Before you go,” you pleaded. “Hard.”
Billie shook her head, her face scrunched before throwing her face at you. The force drove you into the counter sending a glorious shock of pain up your back. Billie was doing what you had asked.
“Fuck you,” you pulled away and muttered, as if she had gonr too far in teasing you.
“What did I do?”
You raised your hand and slapped her face, lightly. “Fuck you for proving that I still love you.”
A rush of relief knocked Billie, visibly. She returned to your lips, much more gently this time, as if she were savouring every part of you.
“I told you to kiss me hard,” you whispered, although not necessarily opposed to Billie’s touch.
“I’ll do anything you really want,” she replied.
You paused for a moment. “Anything?”
Billie smiled. “Anything.”
You kissed her once. Soft. Tentatively. “Fuck me. On the table.”
#billie dean x reader#billie dean howard imagine#billie dean howard x reader#lana winters#billie dean howard#lana winters x reader#Cordelia Goode#cordelia goode x reader#sally mckenna#sally mckenna x reader#ally mayfair richards#ally mayfair richards x reader#wilhemina venable x reader#sarah paulson x reader#i was drunk when i wrote the last half#so maybe i'll drunk write more often
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And Into The Fire
Chapter 4: A Not-Quite-Plan
Summary:
Months after the Mitchells saved the world, Linda gets a phone call asking if she’s seen two defective Pal MAX bots. Powerful people are after Eric and Deborabot 5000, and it’s up to the Mitchells to protect them.
Check reblogs for AO3 link!
A Not-Quite-Plan
An agent came running into the office just as Mark was about to take a sip of his coffee.
“Ma’am! We’ve got into #009181987!”
Agent Ward turned off her tablet and stood up immediately.
“About time!” She snapped. “Come on, Dr Bowman, this is where we need you.”
He barely had time to grab his coffee cup as she practically dragged him toward the door by his hoodie.
Ever since they’d locked onto the missing Pal MAX bots, Agent Jennifer Ward and her team had pretty much taken control of Pal Labs. Or at least the headquarters where Mark worked.
He’d spent the past week or so locked in his office with the scary Agent Ward herself. The tall woman had ordered him to come into work every day despite the complete CIA take-over of his company, just to keep up pretences for the public. And he also needed to be kept under supervision at all times for some reason. He was basically a prisoner.
Oh well. At least he had WiFi.
After pulling him out of his office (freedom at last!) Agent Ward led him down the stairs to the main work area, which was a large room filled with rows of computer desks.
At the very back of the room were two large screens on the wall. These were usually used for advertising and announcements, but recently they’d served another purpose.
Displayed on each screen was a status. Before now, they’d said the same thing. But for the first time in weeks, one was different.
Pal MAX #012041966
Status: UNRESPONSIVE
Pal MAX #009181987
Status: ONLINE
“Online?” Mark wondered aloud. “So you actually got into it, huh.”
Agent Ward scoffed. “Of course we did. Don’t doubt my team, Dr Bowman. Especially Agent Travis here.”
As if on cue, the young agent that had come to tell them the news before came rushing in through the door behind them, and almost glided straight into the wheelie chair next to the computer he’d been working on.
“Actually, we got through a couple of times.” Travis explained, huffing slightly from having to run. “But we got kicked out before we could change anything. This is the first time it looks stable and ready to be edited.”
“Well, these robots are based on AI.” Said Mark. “They’re not as simple to take down as ordinary machines.”
“Trust me, we know.” Agent Ward sneered. “That’s the reason we’re in this mess to begin with.”
She turned to her team, who all had their fingers poised over their keyboards ready to begin typing. “Delete any excess data and then start to rewrite the functional coding.” She ordered.
“Rewrite?” Mark had been under the impression that they would just delete it all to stop the robots for good. That’s what they were trying to do, right? “I thought-”
“Yes, rewrite. Anything more is classified.”
One of the agents raised their hands. “Uh, Ma’am? All the data here looks pretty messed up. Most of its data’s been built onto the errors presumably caused by defects, we have no idea what it actually does. There's words liked 'brother', 'mother'-”
“Do I need to repeat myself, Barker?”
Even though it wasn’t aimed at him, Mark couldn’t help but gulp at the way Ward was glaring at the poor agent.
“No Ma’am,” mumbled Barker, “sorry, Ma’am. We’ll start the rewrite.”
~-.-~
The three of them raced into the room with Monchi following close behind, probably because he was intrigued by all the commotion.
Linda didn’t want to believe it. Her robo-boys being sick was one thing, but fighting each other? That was truly unbelievable. They would never.
But unfortunately, it was just as Aaron said.
Deborahbot was kneeling on the bed with his back to the door, repeatedly hitting Eric’s screen by alternating between using the clenched fist of one hand and the open palm of another. There was a “clunk” sound with each impact, and Deborahbot showed no sign of stopping.
“Deborahbot!” Linda exclaimed incredulously.
The bot’s head turned 180° to face them but he did not cease the attack on his brother.
“Mother! Other Mitchells!”
“What are you doing?!” Demanded Rick, aggressively pointing at the bot in the bed. Aaron gripped onto the back of Linda’s pant leg in fear.
“I am more defective than my brother.” Deborahbot stated matter-of-factly, his calm voice sounding quite scary compared to the current violence he was inflicting. “I thought if he was more defective like me, he would be himself again.”
Rick waved his arms in annoyance. “That’s insane!”
“Deborahbot, stop hitting your brother right now.” Ordered Linda.
“Ok!”
Linda felt a small stab of guilt in her heart. Since they’d joined the family, they’d all tried their hardest not to order the bots to do anything. By phrasing things the wrong way, their programming would make them obey commands mindlessly, whereas the Mitchells just wanted them to be themselves. The longer the pair of them went without being given an order, the more their individual personalities shone through.
Deborahbot released Eric and stepped away. Two seconds later, once the command had been completed, he held out a warning hand to the family.
“Wait, Mitchells, stop!”
Linda was about to open her mouth to ask why, only she first noticed the movement on the bed.
Movement. On the bed.
Under the blanket, Eric looked like he was shivering. Or, more accurately, vibrating. The screen that had been full of color before was now its usual black self, and his red marker face was visible again. The only indication that anything was wrong was that the small LED in the corner of his screen was flashing an array of different colors.
“What’s happening to him?” Aaron asked from behind her, and Linda nodded to encourage Deborahbot to answer.
“I do not know for certain, but I think that the infiltrators have successfully entered my brother’s system.”
“You’re speaking normal again.” Commented Rick, though his cautious gaze was fixed on Eric, as if he would spring up and attack them at any moment.
“That is why I came to that conclusion.” Elaborated Deborahbot. “They have stopped attacking me, so they must be focusing more on him.”
Unlike earlier, Linda drew up the courage to approach Eric in the bed. His shaking was growing ever more violent by the second, and without Deborahbot keeping him down it was only a matter of time before he fell off the bed completely.
She gently placed a hand on his shoulder and made her voice as soft and calming as possible.
“Eric, honey?”
“Dear, be careful.” Rick warned from behind her but she chose not to listen.
“Can you hear me?”
It didn’t seem like he was going to respond. Feeling defeated, Linda was about to turn to ask Deborahbot what to do next when a voice spoke up.
“User recognised: Linda Mitchell.”
Eric’s voice was even more distorted than Deborahbot’s had been to the point where it was nearly unrecognisable.
“Uh, Mom?”
“Linda, get back!”
Linda understood exactly why her family was scared. The bots had never, not once, called her by her actual name. To not hear “Mother!” come out of Eric’s metaphorical mouth alarmed her, but still she couldn’t bring herself to step back.
“Brother?”
In a similar situation, the bots never called one another by their given names. It was always “Brother”. It only made them seem closer to one another in a way that the Mitchells themselves couldn’t be.
“Unknown user. Verify”
Aaron approached them with caution, one hand automatically searching for his mother’s own. She clasped it tightly.
“It’s like he’s gone back into robot-mode.” Said Aaron.
Linda squeezed his hand in agreement. Out of the two, it was Eric that always seemed more closely related to all the other Pal MAX bots for some reason. Still, Eric was their Eric, and not one of the mindless machines that tried to blast all of humanity into space.
Then a high-pitched whine echoed throughout the room without warning, causing the Mitchells (and Deborahbot, who mimicked them a second later) to cover their ears from the terrible noise. Monchi began to bark.
Once it died down, Rick frowned and used two fingers to massage his temple. “What the-”
“B-Brother!”
Rick snapped his mouth shut and all heads in the room turned to Eric, who was now sitting up straight on the bed.
“Brother!” Deborahbot called back in relief.
Eric's head twisted to face the three extremely shocked Mitchells.
“Mitchells!” Eric cried dramatically, his words accompanied by a more familiar glitch. “You are in danger. Pal Labs is taking over our systems, and it’s only a matter of time before-”
“I already told them all that.” Deborahbot interjected.
“Oh.” Eric muttered softly. “Aww.”
It put Linda a little at ease to see her boys’ dynamic return so quickly. That must mean things were getting better, right?
“Brother, what should we do?”
Deborahbot had always been reliant on Eric for decision-making. Linda had no idea how the bots managed to form such a human-like sibling relationship.
“They’ve already gotten to me.” Said Eric, solely addressing Deborahbot now. “It’s safer if you power me off until they stop. If you wait a while and they don’t, then you might have to go to Pal Labs and stop them yourself.”
Linda’s immediate thought was: No. She was not going to turn off her boy.
“How do we know if they’ve stopped?” Asked Rick.
Eric glitched before shrugging. “My brother might be able to tell you, but-”
He was interrupted by the return of the high-pitched whine. This time, Deborahbot did not cover his ears.
A few seconds later, Eric’s voice was distorted again.
“Status: online. Location-”
He did not get to finish his ominous speech as Deborahbot had quickly moved toward him and placed his hand under Eric’s head. After a few short seconds Eric’s screen went completely black with only his marker face remaining as he fell back onto the bed.
“Deborahbot!” Linda exclaimed in outrage. “Tell me you didn’t-”
“He told me a plan.” Deborahbot said nonchalantly. “First I had to power him off, then-”
“Yeah, we heard.” Scoffed Rick. “But that’s not really a proper plan.”
“It’s a start.” Aaron piped up. “I don’t really know what’s going on but I think the bots have it better together than you do.”
Linda bit the inside of her lip. She did not like how Deborahbot switched off his brother without permission. They were technically under 18 and therefore not adults, so Linda felt responsibility for their wellbeing and safety. She tried her best to keep quiet to avoid snapping at him.
“So... what now?” Asked Rick.
Deborahbot took a moment to look at his brother before turning to face the Mitchells again.
“I don’t want to wait.” He said blankly. “So I think that we should go to Pal Labs and tell them to stop now.”
Comments make my day! :)
#the mitchells vs the machines#tmvtm#fic#tmvtm eric#eric tmvtm#eric and deborahbot5000#eric and deborahbot#deborahbot 5000#linda mitchell#rick mitchell#aaron mitchell#mark bowman#and into the fire
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