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#EVERYONE. and somehow her managing to do that only after years upon years of physical and psychological abuse made her a weakling
roobylavender · 1 year
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sorry no one except maybe hiba (ily mwah) is going to care about this but one of the most popular dramas on right now (mujhe pyaar hua tha) is driving me utterly mad with the fan response it's like people's collective horniness for wahaj ali has banished all critical thought or sympathy for women who are thrust into situations like maheer's (the female mc). i simply cannot grasp how anyone can call a girl bratty bc she dared to fall in love with someone other than her cousin and then when that person's family humiliated her she decided to marry her cousin without complaint bc it was what her family mandated for her and then when her ex-fiance began harassing her somehow she got accused for being an adulterer even though she had accepted her new relationship with her cousin despite it making her miserable. like a girl has been thrust into an impossible situation in which everyone feels entitled to tell her what to do rather than leaving her to ever make her own choices and somehow her being depressed and anxious because of all of this makes her bratty and inconsiderate of others. the most ironic thing of all is that everyone lauds saad (the male mc) for being an absolute angel bc he's patient and doesn't impose on her and is ready to leave her if she wants him to but somehow that adoration of him doesn't actually translate to holding similar sentiments for maheer? like if you like saad so much maybe you should do the same as him and support maheer rather than acting like she's the brattiest scum of the earth. i hate pakistani drama audiences so much it's unreal
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stevie-petey · 6 months
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Hi! I know it's pretty late to be asking this but I got a random blurb idea at three in the morning so I thought I'd send it in before I forgot it. It's for season one, episode 5/6.
After Steve finds Jonathan and Nancy in her bed and tells bug she deserves better he drives off with Tommy and Carol. Basically his POV that whole car ride. He's grieving, in disbelief and heartbreak. He's angry and sad, not only for himself but for bug. Tommy and Carol are only riling him up at this point. Remember how Tommy or Carol said something like " wow Steve you're right she really is pathetic to still stay with him" maybe we see the convo where that came from. I feel like he was excited to be around who he thought were Nancy's friends outside of barb, and it all came crashing down.
Again this is really random and super late but I was just thinking about season one Steve and this scenario popped into my head. For being such a little shit Steve really is handsome.
i loooove this idea omg yes ! n never apologize for sending blurbs i love doin em
enjoy <3
"did henderson really defend that creep?" carol practically throws herself over the drivers seat in disbelief of what steve has just said.
"she did." steve tightens his hands around the steering wheel. his mind is reeling. hes hurt, hes so fucking hurt, and hes angry. for you, for what nancy has done to him, for what jonathan has done to you. for years youve been his little pet, always doting on the boy, and he still has the fucking nerve to hurt you like this. "shes pathetic."
the words burn steves tongue. he regrets them immediately.
tommy snorts. "i mean, yeah. shes hot, but at least have some self respect, ya know?"
the boys words only cause steve to tighten his grip on the steering wheel harder. youre not pathetic; youre selfless. youre so fucking selfless and always see the good in people. it infuriates steve. youre everything and more, and hes seen people abuse this rare kindness for years. make fun of you for it, mock you as if the kindness you bring isnt a breath of fresh air for everyone.
he hears a yelp next to him and steve knows that carol has slapped tommy for calling another girl hot in front of her.
"i just dont get it," steve sighs out. theres so much he wants to ask, to say and plead and demand. he cant get the betrayal in your eyes out of his head. youd looked devasted when hed told you what he saw at nancys. how jonathan had been wrapped around her.
and yet even as the hurt crossed upon your face, you still managed to swallow down the hurt and see the good in people.
in the people who didnt fucking deserve it.
"fuck if i know, man." tommy rubs at his arm and glares at carol.
she simply rolls her eyes at him and goes back to picking at her nails. "why do we assume she even knows how to do anything other than put on that angelic act bullshit?"
"what, like she doesnt know how to be mean?" tommy asks, furrowing his brows.
steve stares straight ahead. "all shes ever been is kind."
"exactly," carol throws herself against the drivers seat again. "whos to say its real? not some creepy act? better yet: how do we know shes not, like, fucked up in the head?"
youre not. steve has seen your intelligence. youre the top of your class and hes had to shamefully ask you for help with english homework.
tommy frowns again. "wait, i thought she was smart."
"god, youre dumb." carol shakes her head. "what i mean is, what if she physically incapable of being mean. like, some chemical imbalance in her brain."
"could explain her freakish devotion to byers." tommy says.
steves grip tightens once more hearing the boys name. jonathan byers. resident creep who somehow has captured the heart of hawkins sweetheart. the same boy who has now cheated on her with steves girlfriend.
he will never understand this.
nancy has hurt him, shes abandoned him like everyone else has, and he knows that somehow its his fault.
but you? you dont deserve any of this.
what carol has said makes sense. maybe you really dont know how to be mean. if youre physically incapable of it, then steve decides that he has to do something about it.
if you need to be mean, then he'll be mean for you.
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nomsfaultau · 1 year
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Reverse Fault Au for April 1st
Basically, what if SBI + Tubbo were humans working for the SCP Foundation, as well as anomalifying villain ocs at the end (which is where most of the tws come into play) 
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Tommy: Thomas. A Threat Assessor, like Dr Blake. He has an uncanny knack for driving even the most docile objects to bloodlust, which is useful in ascertaining exactly how much resources must be allocated to containing that SCP. No one is quite sure how he does it, only that a simple conversation can send objects into rages that somehow never touch the man. Thomas simply wears a delighted grin as devastation unfolds. Why does he do it? Why, the love of chaos of course. He’s only bringing out their innate evil, after all. The anomaly wanted to do it, he just gave it the push to act upon its violent nature. 
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Philza: Dr. A. Gon. Is an ancient decrepit old man from The War. He picks up little favorites among the anomalies and is super kind to them. Basically acts as a father figure for them, offering advice, giving little treats, limiting punishments, and helping them cope with the trauma of the Foundation…up until the moment he grows bored. After that it’s experiment after experiment trying to squeeze any last drop of interest out of the object before he discards them and moves onto the next. Anomalies tend to be completely psychologically and physically wrecked by the time he’s done with them. Likes to trap anomalies in complex promises that the Foundation can exploit easily. His cane is actually a sword stick, and the cape he has (to mimic wings) can act as a weighted net. 
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The Blade: Agent Boore. An MTF captain who leads a squad that somehow literally never manages to fail to recapture an anomaly thanks to his leadership. A lot of anomalies are terrified of him, as he tends to handle the containment breach punishments after catching them. Anomalies don’t tend to try to escape ever again after encountering Agent Boore. He armed to the teeth with near batman levels of gear. Tactics include pumping adrenaline into his veins, filling a room with toxic gas (immune bc of his gas mask (he wears it even while sleeping)) and the humble bazooka. Definitely on steroids. Agent Boore sees a containment breach as a challenge. He likes proving humanity (but mostly himself) stronger than monsters. Is insanely paranoid and tends to be the straight man who is secretly more insane than everyone else. Met Dr. A. Gon in WWII but got Captain America’d, and is actually now trying to sue marvel for using his life story. He does the job in order to protect the poor orphans of the world (evil)
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Tubbo: Security Camera B. Is a security officer. Not a single thing goes unnoticed in the entire Foundation. The second an anomaly is out of line they’re reported and appropriately punished. Their personalities are represented in reverse fault by their favorite monitors. Jasmine has a picture of a dinosaur as her screen saver, Rhodes is a picture of an apple tree and technically it’s the oldest of the new computers but they run a mean legal complaint software that really saves the Foundation’s hide. Rosalind is a pic of someone meditating in a field of flowers and Sec Cam B secretly uses that computer to play games to distress. Sec Cam B also works as a recruitment officer given how much conviction about the Foundation they have. ‘It’s the moral thing to do, you have to join. Don’t you want to save humanity?’ They’re insufferably righteous in moral conviction. Lawful evil. 
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Wilbur: A. Void. Initial contact researcher, as he has a sharp eye (the other lost to an anomaly years ago) and an even sharper tongue that tends to not only save his life but also weasel out information from the object that would otherwise not have been gotten. His prejudices are flipped from Fault Au. Now, he thinks it unfair that anomalies have more power than humans, and that such a dominance would only lead to subjugation if given time. After all, the powerful always abuse such might don’t they? He believes everything he does is necessary for his own survival. He thinks his punishments are fair, which they could almost be considered to be compared to actual sadists like Agent Boore or Dr. A. Gon. 
———————————————————————
And on to the villain SCPs!
Webb: A humanoid SCP with eight eyes, six arms, mandibles. Webb has incorrectly healed surgical scars on its throat from an encounter with Dr. A. Gon’s scalpel. An anomaly that can shoot out tendrils of spiderweb that, when making contact, suppress heightened emotions. Effect is strongest while webbing is attached to both object and target, though loses effect about ten minutes after creation, so it is sometimes used to capture other anomalies. While not strong, it is important that Webb doesn’t escape because any urge to recontain it will be suppressed. At most extreme, it can shut down a person till they’re paralyzed, which on a few occasions was enough to stop a human heart because continuing to beat was simply too much effort. 
Dr. Blake: The Scimitar Smile. It is a set of 32 humanoid teeth with a crack through the upper right incisor due to an encounter with Agent Boore. The teeth can move somehow, and tend to hunt in a pack. On their own, a person within their aura will be acutely aware of their own flaws. Often persons with disabilities such as PTSD or anxiety will be triggered by its presence. Exposure to this object leads to strong self loathing and occasional suicides.
It’s when it gets a Host that the Scimitar Smile is at its most dangerous. Once a Host is selected, the teeth will crawl up them and burrow like ticks into the flesh of their cheeks in the arrangement of an external smile. The Scimitar Smile prefers to keep Hosts for a while, but will inevitably abandon it, and during escapes will take many Hosts in rapid succession. Old Hosts tend to scream when they hear their own names, have very little agency, and are incredibly compliant to orders.
Once assimilated, both the Host and the Scimitar Smile’s mouths will begin to speak, saying different things. When recorded and replayed, it sounds like chattering nonsense. Despite being unaware of its contents, the noise is regarded as a cognitohazard as it tends to drive people insane. Only a few reports of what individuals hear in person exist, as those that survive are left in psychological annihilation and refuse to talk about what they heard and did as a result. What we can piece together is this: Past being aware of their flaws, a listener is manipulated into acting on them in the most self destructive way possible.
The Scimitar Smile brings out the worst in people.
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sleepydelights · 8 months
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Tw: menstruation, period talk, blood, trauma, CSA, miscarriage
I’ve never had a ‘normal’ period in my life. I got my period when I was 11, a random day in 6th grade. It was before school and my 15 year old sister was curling her hair at the mirror when I sat to pee and discovered the cannon event.
I showed my sister and she handed me a box of tampons, saying “Good luck” as she walked out of the bathroom. That began my lonely journey with my period. My sister didn’t do anything wrong here. We were both victims of daily psychological, physical, and sexual abuse from a stepfather. We didn’t speak about it but we both knew it was happening. That’s a long story I’m sure I’ll get into another time, but I just want it known my sister’s inability to help me with my period wasn’t her fault and I do not blame her.
Because of the abuse happening behind closed doors, I developed a raging amount of shame concerning my genitals. I was also afraid. My sister had already conceived and had a child at 13/14 as a result of the abuse and I was afraid I was next. As much as I feared and hated my period, seeing it was a relief. But I didn’t know how to properly manage it. I’d had no sexual education and no resources.
My abuser had told me that if I ever let it get out what he was doing, he’d kill my whole family and then me. That kind of threat to a child is so powerful and it worked on me so well that I didn’t tell my mom I’d gotten my period. I thought she would somehow know what was happening to me and the secret would get out and she would die.
I couldn’t ask for menstrual products, I couldn’t buy them for myself. I had to steal from my sister or resort to less than sanitary options. Then one day my mom found my stash of dirty underwear after wondering why she hadn’t washed any of mine in some time.
Thank goodness her finding out about my period didn’t lead her to discover the truth, I always thought. But at least I got the period talk and learned about products and could then ask for them when I needed them. But a lifelong feeling of shame and grossness has always been attached to my period.
I often wonder how many times I possibly conceived during the two more years of abuse that persisted after my first period. There’s no way of knowing but I do believe havoc was wreaked upon my reproductive system that lead to me having a worse than average period experience. Heavy unmanageable flow, cramps that rip through my entire abdomen, forcing me into a huddled mass of tears, back pain like I’ve never known it. 9/11/01 was the only day where it was perfectly acceptable to lay my head on my desk in 7th grade math and just sob.
We escaped our abusive situation when I was freshly 13. Shortly after, our abuser found a way to get to us and my sister and I realized the only way to stop him was to finally tell our mother what had been happening. Following that conversation (again details for another day, I’m getting distracted here), we immediately went to the police station and then victims clinic.
I had my first pelvic exam. I was nervous but I wasn’t afraid. These were women. Women had never hurt me, these women weren’t going to hurt me. They didn’t, but their sadness and discomfort was palpable to me and I didn’t understand it. I thought I had done something wrong. I thought there was something wrong with me.
I found out many years later that there was damage there and many more years later that it was my story and not my genitalia that made them uncomfortable.
They couldn’t help me with my period problems. Because of that I felt like maybe I was just being a baby about it. Surely everyone who had a period went through this? Fast forward.
I bled through my entire junior year of college. Read that again. The ENTIRE year. It’s a wonder I didn’t fail out. I spent probably hundreds of hours that year just doing physics homework in the bath because boiling hot baths were the only thing that brought any kind of relief to my confusing parts. One day, I guess my friends had finally had enough of my complaining and I get it. How long can you really sit around watching someone you care about shooting themselves in the foot and whining about the pain? With love and encouragement they convinced me to see a gynecologist. Why hadn’t I done so up until that point? I could give a million reasons and they’d all come off as an excuse. But to put it simply: trauma and cost.
I saw a wonderful gynecologist who immediately but gently asked “How long have you had that going on?” Turns out I’d had a massive lipoma on my right labia majora caused by blunt force trauma. I’d been going through life thinking I just had to add wonky labia flaps to my list of not cool things about me.
That unleashed a whole flood of feelings I wasn’t ready for and she got me set up with a therapist and a surgeon and some birth control. I took the birth control and did the therapy and got the surgery. The surgery was fantastic. Morphine? 10/10 would do again. The therapy sucked. And the birth control stopped my period which I loved but then I found myself trying to decide if I should drive my car into that brick wall or that group of people. I’d always had thoughts of hurting myself but the thoughts I had of hurting others really scared me and I quit taking the birth control.
Eventually my therapist convinced to get on a non-hormonal birth control and it really helped. For the first time ever my period, at least in terms of regularity, was normal. Fast forward, made a mistake with the Nuvaring. Didn’t know I was pregnant until I was in the ER miscarrying. I was able to conceive again (years later and on purpose this time haha), but after I had my child my periods been going haywire.
I am on day 4 today of my first period in 6 or 7 months and it’s been the most physically intense one of my life. In the days leading up to it, I know I felt off. If I could have simply known it was PMS or PMDD or whatever the fuck it is, maybe I wouldn’t have had such a hard confusing time. Maybe I wouldn’t have done or said certain things. But I did and I have to live with that. I know I need help. I think my lived experiences and anxiety-driven decisions have lead me to this point but I don’t have to be stuck here. I’m tired of letting myself be a victim.
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averagetm · 1 year
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𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘  𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒:    this is just a little post involving headcanons that I have,   this scenario goes with the implication that Artemis and Bruce are dating & that she knows he’s Batman.   All of this is just a little   self-indulgent    fun on my side of things,  I’ll   never   force these headcanons or assumptions onto another person,   I’m literally just here playing dumb barbies and releasing brain rot  U w U      Also, for my own sanity, I'm not going to include the archives in these, probably?
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                                            𝗝𝗔𝗦𝗢𝗡 𝗧𝗢𝗗𝗗
✿   ;     From the moment that Bruce let it slip that he was seeing someone   ( and that it was serious )   Jason took it upon himself to make sure that Artemis wasn’t hiding anything suspicious  ———  without a doubt,  the first concern that everyone had was that she was after his money.    Alongside digging up what he could in terms of a dossier,   he physically followed her for a few weeks  /   generally kept track of her movements within the city.   Jason grew very,  very bored with this self-appointed task   once he came to the realisation that she wasn’t hiding anything.
✿   ;     It took a little while for Jason to warm up to Artemis,   initially keeping his distance from the woman   (  it’s just who he is,  there wasn’t anything personal to it  )   eventually,   the two grew incredibly close and whilst Jason is younger than Artemis,  she considers him to be an older brother.   Artemis is one of the few people that are allowed in his space when he’s  . . .  being anti – social  ———   this is mostly because she doesn’t pester him with trying to talk about his feelings,  but she does let him know that he’s there.
✿   ;     Initially,  Artemis was not aware of Jason’s murder and revival   ( Bruce had meant to tell her,  but it was kinda forgotten about since everyone kinda knows ?  )   she was informed about the events after a joke was made and she had given everyone a very confused look.    In that moment,   Artemis went through a range of emotions and responses that everyone else had felt across years  -  she’s still processing the information  -  when the story was finished,   not only was she nearly in tears,   she turned to Jason,   gripped his sleeve and   ‘ ARE YOU OKAY???’     he just  . . .  gave her a little awkward pat on the head because it was so long ago.       Yes,  Artemis sides with Jason when he gives Bruce shit.
✿   ;     Artemis has taken notice of Jason and the trauma that he tends to ignore  ——   how the scraping of metal against cement makes him pale,   how certain noises from a gun makes him flinch  ———   she’s not always able to be there for him,  but when she witnesses’ him being tugged back to that day,  she’s there to help him,  to calm him down and ground him into reality.    Artemis tends to be the first one to notice,  due to her own traumatic responses to certain triggers.
✿   ;     Jason will often sneak into the library when she’s working  ———  he’ll browse the classics section and make himself comfortable behind the desk with her.   It isn’t something he’ll ever admit to,  but it’s to keep her company so she’s not so alone during her shifts,   though he doesn’t do this if there are students in the library already.    Sometimes,  he’ll use the excuse of bringing her dinner.
✿   ;     During the time where they’re unable to get out of attending events,   Jason and Artemis are already plotting their escape within the first five minutes  ———   these plans are often incredibly dramatic in their nature,  and they’re always caught by Alfred who  somehow  manages to sneak up on the two without them knowing.   In the end,   they just settle upon being bitter in the corner and low – key grumbling about how everyone in the room sucks.    Admittedly however,   they do eventually enjoy themselves.
✿   ;     Artemis being harmed is something that is inevitable   ( if not for her ties with Bruce,  then due to living in Gotham )    any harm that is inflicted upon her by another person,   is met with a violent rage from Jason  ( assuming he’s not the only person with her,  then his priority would shift to helping her )    it relates back to their sibling – esque relationship,   which only becomes stronger with time,   that rage being pulled from a fiercely protective side.
✿   ;     Whilst Bruce might be hesitant about Artemis touching anything in the Batcave,  Jason encourages this curiosity in the worst way possible  ;   from letting her use the grappling hook within the cave,   to showing her how to throw the batarangs   ( she can’t throw them to save her life )   these two a practically children in a cave filled with gadgets and equipment.    Anytime that they’re caught by Bruce,  Jason uses Artemis as a shield.
✿   ;     In general,   their relationship has a lot of banter ———  they’re the type of people to call each other an offensive name with affection implied.
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tteokdoroki · 3 years
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had it | k.bakugou.
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♡ pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.
♡ word count: 4.5K
♡ rating: everyone.
♡ genre: pro hero!au, married!au, fluff, comfort.
♡ summary: your pro hero husband is a show off, always has and always will be... but when his big ego gets in the way of you doing your job, you give him little piece of your mind..
♡ warning(s): please read ! mentions of violence, i gave reader a quirk?? bakugou with a daughter ok literally nothing. oh and angst if you squint.
♡ author’s note(s):  hi besties!! happy birthday to meee!! today i’m dropping a fic that’s been a long time coming, its a short and fluffy little piece with domestic baku bc i love him with babies n kids ok ok!! i hope you all have a lovely day <3
♡ masterlist | requests | kofi
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some say that working for a pro hero is an honour, no matter what the position is. some may work behind the scenes— creating gear and suits that support the pros protecting their cities or livelihoods. others are in charge of things like reports, PR and even physical health. everyone plays an important role in a hero's career. there’s never a dull moment working in a team supporting the pros, especially if that pro was dynamight.
the offices for katsuki bakugou’s hero agency were always buzzing; usually because the clean up team were rushing through with stacks upon stacks of receipts and paperwork from the damage done during bakugou’s patrols— other times it would be his secretaries gossiping about how good he looks in his winter costume because damn did that tight black shirt do his arms justice but usually it was just because of the PR team contacting media outlets with excuses for bakugou’s potty mouth.
working for the hot headed blonde was more laid back than it seemed however, the man himself was rarely ever in the office as the number two hero but out on missions instead, the pay was pretty decent and no one ever really faced his angry wrath nor his sailor like mouth unless they had royally fucked up on their job. katsuki bakugou was someone to admire, he never gave a damn about what people had to say about him— he only cared about getting the job done and maybe that’s why most people enjoyed their time under the dynamight agency.
particularly this time, right around noon.
the doors to the floor of the secretary offices fly open, crashing loudly against the walls and drawing the staff from their daily work. this office space is around ten floors up and somehow you’ve made it in record time today. “where is he?” your voice crawls through the entrance of the room, settling over the workers like a thick fog— commanding, menacing and soft all at the same time. newbies cower in their boots, confused at what’s going on and it’s safe to presume those who have been working here for years have yet to give them the run down. “don’t make me ask again.” you add, eyes darkening as you cast your gaze across the room.
an intern approaches you, visibly shaking with fear which makes you loosen your stance and raise an eyebrow toward them. “he-uh... he just went for his lunch break—“ the stutter, gulping under the stare of another highly ranked pro hero. “in his...office— ma’am!” they stumble through their words, hiding behind the ungodly amount of paperwork that's been dumped into their hands. you make a mental note to chew bakugou out on the load his interns have been getting as well as your prior reasons for coming to his agency.
nonetheless you shake your head and drop the frown, a sweet smile quickly replacing the look that could put anyone six feet under if you really tried. with a tap to the side of your head, the visor to your hero costume rises above your eyes— allowing you to give the poor little intern a cheeky wink as thanks. “‘ppreciate it darling, have a good one!” you thank them properly with a ruffle to their hair, resuming your previous stance as you march the rest of the way through the office and kick open the door at the end of the room.
the intern sags, a whimper of relief passing from tired lips while they wipe at the sweat forming on their brow. they’d not even encountered their boss yet and they’d already come face to face with a top pro hero. “w-what’s her deal?”
a chuckle to the left of the poor kid startles them out of their mind; but they relax upon realising it’s just another one of dynamight’s secretaries— haruto, who’d apparently been working at the agency since it started up. “that’s nightsky, her quirk is lullaby, which allows her to control certain people if she hits the right note. she can also put them to sleep, if she really wants to,” the intern now perks up, remembering you from countless interviews on tv. you ranked pretty highly too, managing to the reach the top five this year along with others like shoto and deku. “she owns the hero agency across the street, herself and dynamight have been going at it ever since. it’s like they’re elderly lovers or somethin‘.”
“d-do you think they are? lovers like you say?” the intern asks a little too excitedly, touching at their messy hair from where you’d ruffled it. a crimson blush warms their cheeks, the idea of two pros playing enemies to the public eye but being lovers in secret seemed like something right out of a romance novel. how romantic.
haruto only chuckles at the newbie, standing to ruffle their hair as well before heading over to the coffee stand to fix himself a cup. “beats me,” he mumbles cheerily as he walks away, arms crossed behind his head. “but with the way yn bursts in here at the same time everyday to scold bakugou, and leaves with a huge smile on her face— i wouldn’t put it past them. they probably have a whole life together.” he taps his nose once as if he’s given away too much information, turning away without a word.
the intern hums, seemingly happy with their superior’s answer and easily heads back to work from there.
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katsuki bakugou was bored out of his mind.
being a successful pro hero was all he’d ever wanted— being the number two pro hero just came with that. bakugou wanted to get to the top and show everyone he was the best of the best and with him being blessed with a powerful quirk there was no way he couldn’t be where he was today. yet, now that he’d finally achieved his dream all he wanted was a fucking break. the blonde stares down at his microwaveable bowl of home cooked stew, a frown cutting deep into his cheeks. it was his lunch break for crying out loud, but instead of scarfing down the delicious meal before him, the hero was forced to watch it cool as some dumb fuck reporter asked him questions over the phone.
the telephone interview ( or a waste of his fucking time, as katsuki had called it ) , had been set up by his PR team right after he’d taken down a couple low level villains downtown earlier this morning. katsuki had called it nothing but apparently the whole world and their mother had been on his ass, watching as he took the criminals down with ease and raving about how glorious dynamight was during that fight. the reporter drones on about said event, asking the same old questions and it takes everything within the hot headed pro not to blow a casket— he’d been promised a few extra days off from his manager if he could finish the interview without blowing something up and only god knew how much katsuki needed a break from dumb paps and some overly obsessive fans.
‘so, final question, how does it feel to be the number two?’
bakugou grunts, buying himself time to formulate an answer. what he really wants to do is kindly tell the reporter to fuck off and ask more original questions; but with the prize of a longer weekend hanging in the balance he bites his tongue for the sake of freedom. “well i—“
“katsuki bakugou.” your voice cuts through his sentence before he can finish, vermillion eyes land on your hero costume clad form as you burst into his office. a lazy smirk now decorates the hero’s lips, brow quirked with piqued interest. “i have a bone to pick with you, you motherfucker.”
the reporter on the other end falls silent as katsuki watches you, leaning back in his plush leather chair. you look slightly disheveled, costume torn in a few places, scrapes littering your skin as you pant heavily from exertion— chest rising and falling with every breath, it seems ragged and bakugou makes a mental note to remind you to get your ribs checked out later. “you’re late, shitty woman.” the number two sits up a little straighter as you enter the room, leaning up to look at you while you slam your hands down on the smooth marble desk— the force rattling the items he has neatly placed on it.
‘uh-? mister...dynamight-? sir?’
your eyes sweep the room while the pro before you deals with the reporter, mentioning to her that they’ll have to continue their call later. in the meantime, you note that katsuki’s office is meticulously clean, not a single book, folder or pen out of place— it’s high up with a perfect view of the city and the large windows allow golden beams of the sun to light up the room. the sound of a phone being placed back on its hook brings you from your thoughts; annoyance settling deep in your veins as you turn to face bakugou again.
“i had it,” you growl lowly, jumping the gun before he can even register what you’ve said. “i’m a grown woman, katsuki, i can handle a couple of criminals myself, you know.”
the blasting hero does nothing but smirk even wider at the irked tone that litters your voice, standing up as well to tower over you. bakugou still wears his own hero costume, considerably in less damage than yours— not a single tear had formed in his suit, mind the small scratches on his face no doubt from his stupid explosions creating some debris. leaning over the desk between you, bakugou uses a forefinger and thumb to tilt your head up, bringing you even closer than before. “clearly y’didn’t sweetheart, or otherwise that icyhot bastard wouldn’t have needed to back you up ‘fore i got there...” his timbre voice sends sparks of electricity through the air in the room, it’s low and gravelly which is enough to send shivers down your spine but you’re not about to let katsuki bakugou know that he makes you flustered— it’d go straight to his head, the cocky bastard.
nonetheless; you roll your eyes at the mention of your old classmate and fellow pro hero— shoto todoroki. yourself and shoto got along fairly well, even back in high school, so it was normal for you to work together from time to time; you both made a great team and your skill set complimented each other’s well. katsuki was just jealous. he never really got along with todoroki like that. “he didn’t back me up, we were working together,” you snap back at the blonde, shaking yourself from bakugou’s grasp and flicking him right between those alluring vermillion eyes. “something you might not be familiar with, mister number two.” bakugou backs away from you completely ( only wincing slightly ), making you smirk in victory. you’ve struck a nerve. deciding to leave the conversation at that, you turn to make your exit as he collapses back into his seat with a deathly scowl and a quiet ‘tch’. “like i said, i had it, dynamight. next time, don’t jump in uninvited.”
happy that you got the last laugh, you open the door to leave his office but pause when a wave of heat hits your back. you should have known, katsuki bakugou was never one to back down from a challenge and you certainly weren’t an exception. well shit. when you turn around to face the blonde, small explosions spark from his right hand and he has some what of a look of a feral pomeranian, blood red eyes full of rage.
you visibly gulp and katsuki growls out his next words with the upmost venom, designed to hurt and cut at your feelings. “well maybe y’sudda let the actual pros handle shit like this,” bakugou begins, voice rising in volume with every syllable that passes his lips. “we both know you’re no good at short distance attacks with your quirk, shitty woman, you couldn’t have taken those villains down without me.” the blonde finishes with a short ‘tsk’, settling the explosions that spark in his palms. now it’s your turn to be pissed. you could handle katsuki’s jealousy, his petty reasoning for joining you on your patrol and taking the credit but bashing you and your quirk? no way in hell would he get away with that.
“bakugou?”
“what? the fuck y’still here for?”
you roll your shoulders, gracing the blonde with a devilish smile as your eyes light up mischievously. “why are you hitting yourself, bakugou?” you sing, hitting just the right notes that will have him under your spell, the tone in your voice as smooth as chocolate. katsuki’s eyes widen in horror and before he can stop himself, his free hand comes up to slap him across the face. that was your quirk, lullaby. you had the ability to sing your way out of any situation— adjusting the tune of your song to control the actions of certain individuals or groups of people. it was near impossible to resist but the more people you used your quirk on, the weaker your control over them was. that doesn’t mean you weren’t going to use it on bakugou from time to time. the blonde tries to fight it, he really does, but he’s no use up against your ability— losing all control of his own body. he grunts on impact, looking bewildered for a moment as he moves to grab his own wrist to stop any impending blows. “not so cocky now, are we dynamight?”
“h-hey!” he stammers, refusing to accept defeat against you. “shitty woman, no fuckin’ fair. you know i can’t use my quirk against you in here.” he was right, while your quirk was poor against short distance attacks ( meaning you had to result to hand to hand combat ), bakugou couldn’t use his own in enclosed spaces without hurting anyone he didn’t want to. especially you, he would never hurt you intentionally unless you were sparring.
“shoulda thought about that before you decided to taunt me, you know better than to piss off your wife, katsu.” you chide, still smiling just as brightly as you were earlier, before taking a seat on his desk and folding one leg over the other. it was quite amusing to watch your husband of four years fight against himself— everyone knew katsuki had an unbelievable amount of strength even without his quirk so he was definitely beating himself up ( literally and figuratively ).
bakugou looks up at you through gritted teeth while he struggles to keep the wrist you have control of down and you almost feel bad for the guy. “turn it off, dammit!” he curses at you, said hand rising above his free one to tug at his own sun kissed locks.
feigning interest in the objects on your lover's desk, you ignore his pleas for you to release him from the holds of your quirk and hum “apologise.”
“f-fuck... fuck y-you.”
you sigh knowingly, picking up a hand crafted paperweight, covered in glitter and sequin stars,  inspecting it carefully. bakugou could hardly ever say the word ‘sorry’, it was just in his nature and he’d been that way since you were young. part of you knows it’s because of how he was treated as a child where people praised him for his quirk. that meant he became prideful yes, thought highly of himself too and struggled to admit when others were right...but he had his own way of apologising— through actions instead of words.
like when you first moved in together and he had broken your favourite mug, instead of saying he was sorry, he spent all night super glueing it back together for you to use in the morning. to him, actions were louder than words but you right now; you were being mean and just wanted to hear him say it.
“fuck fuck, fine. alright. ‘m sorry.” bakugou lets out a strained growl as the hand you control gives a particularly hard yank to his hair. “i’m sorry for lying about your quirk. it’s not shitty…’n ‘m sorry for... barging in on your patrol. again.” you grin, satisfied with his answer and grab the hand he keeps down with his wrist. you press a simple kiss to the skin, making your husband blush as you release your hold over the limb. katsuki shyly yanks it from your grip, rubbing over the area that you’d kissed, shooting his gaze to the side in the process. “jesus shitty woman, if i don’t die from being a hero or of old fucking age, i know for a fact you’ll be the one to kill me first.” he mutters harshly under his breath, but you know he’s only kidding from the way his hands now fall to your thighs and his fingers rub small circles into the exposed skin.
“pro hero nightsky murders number two pro hero dynamight in cold blood!” you joke as if you’re reading a headline in a news article, katsuki only glares up at you— making no effort to curse you out because of your shitty joke, which causes you to frown while leaning  forward to brush some of his hair away from his face. “you know i’m only kidding right? is something wrong? did i come at a bad time?”
it’s only now that you notice the exhausted expression that paints your lover’s face. he’s always up to playing this game with you, at the same time every day— you come to bother him about some trivial matter, tease him a bit and leave with a kiss. but today, you can tell he’s trying to hide something from you. something that bothers him.
bakugou shakes his head, leaning into your touch as you play with his hair— a habit he’d picked up from even before you started dating back in high school, although he’d never admit that to you if you’d asked. “nothin’, just this stupid fuckin’ interview the PR team want me to do about the fight today. the one i took from you,” your husband smirks slightly at the thought and you roll your eyes for what seems like the nine hundredth time that afternoon. “didn’t get to finish my fuckin’ lunch but they promised me a couple days off if i got the interview done.”
“better the number two than me, eh? but don’t worry, i’ll order us some take out tonight,” your suggest, voice coming out as soft and mingling with your slight giggle— a quiet melody to katsuki’s ears. your only reply from him is a grunt, so you stop your fingers in his hair and watch as he scowls up at you. you quickly press a kiss to the explosive hero’s lips, pulling away to reveal his blushing face. you smile, knowing that you’re the only one who can make him flush red like that. “there’s something else bothering you, isn’t there?”
if there’s one thing katsuki bakugou hates, it’s how you read him like an open book. one look at him and it’s like you know exactly how he’s feeling. he can never hide anything from you— sometimes that both pisses him off and reminds him of how much he is loved by you. he hesitates with his words at first but decides to confide in you anyway, knowing that you’ll get it out of him in one way or another. “‘m worried about you, dumbass.” he mumbles, nudging your hand with his head as if to ask you to continue your earlier actions. “i know you had it, yer fuckin’ powerful but you looked so tired in that fight today ‘n i thought something bad was gonna happen to you, y’fuckin’ shitty woman.”
he toys with the tears in your costume now, smoothing over scars from your bumps and scratches as a result of combat. “oh lovebug,” you mumble, cupping his cheeks to make him look up at you. “you know i can handle my own, they just took a lot out of me today. i promise i’ll—“
“that’s not it, fuck,” katsuki cuts you off, brows furrowing deeply as he grabs your wrists— pulling your from his desk and into his lap. he holds you close, burying his nose into your neck as if you’re going to disappear. you sit still, a little shocked by his actions and his quick change of mood, but wrap your arms around him anyway and slowly fall silent. “it's just that...we’re both pros now and at the top of our ranks ‘n we both have a lot to lose.” you instinctively cling tighter to katsuki, mind flickering to the homemade paperweight you’d spotted on his desk earlier... causing your heart clench.
your daughter had made that for him during her time at preschool for fathers day; something your husband cherished with his whole heart, even if the thing was still sticky with glue when he’d gotten it.
katsuki loved taiga more than anything in the world and if something had happened to her because of your line of work, you don’t know what either of you would do. “what if something were to happen to you? or to me? or shit...both of us? who would look after taiga? you know what happens to kids who end up in the fucking system.” bakugou pauses, the same tired expression from earlier now sitting heavily on his face. “i just want you to be careful, stop pushing yourself so much, y’fuckin’ dumbasss. we have a family take care of. it’s not just you and i anymore.”
you nod, grasping onto your lover’s clothes tightly. the air is flooded with a comfortable silence, the pair of you holding one another right the way through it. you treasure moments like this, where the world stops and katsuki shows you another, more vulnerable side to him.
he would never admit or show this to anyone; but he cares , more than he lets on... especially for you and especially for your daughter. he was attentive, paid attention to you and your weaknesses and helped you overcome them. it was something you couldn’t stop loving about him. “i promise to be more careful, for you and for taiga,” you say quietly after he’s done scolding you, brushing your lips against the side of his head in a soft peck. “that must’ve been why jumped in earlier, you were worried about me?”
“somethin’ like that, you crazy woman,,” bakugou whispers, there’s a tinge of fondness to his ruby eyes as you pull away to look at him, his hands settling on your hips while he moves up to press a soft kiss to your awaiting lips. “didn’t want you getting yourself killed.”
you stay with katsuki in the office for a little longer than usual, laying on his chest as he prattles away about everything and anything even though he should be working. you make sure he eats his lunch, despite how cold it is and promise him a boat load of take out when he comes home later— your sweet cuddling session only being cut short by a call from your assistant to tell you that your daughter is ready to be picked up from school. “better finish that interview katsu, taiga’ll be happy to know her daddy’s getting some time off to spend with her soon,” you remind him as you gather yourself together, your husband pouting ( he swears on his life he wasn’t ) from the loss of your warmth in his lap. “she has a lot to tell you.”
the blonde quirks a brow, watching you as you head for the door. “yeah? like what?” a hand comes up to cover your mouth as you giggle at his curious face. sometimes, when you look at katsuki, you could see how much your daughter resembles him, right down to his mannerisms. she had somehow inherited the shape of your nose and the brightness of your smile ( the only reason barely anyone realised bakugou had a kid, he never fucking smiled. ) but the bakugou genes were incredibly strong so there was no way she’d miss out on those crimson eyes and uncontrollable, untameable messy blonde hair.
she even acted like him. a very brazen little girl who knew what she wanted and how to get it, so she had her daddy wrapped around her stubby little fingers.
you grin, eyes sparkling with the same mischief as before. “oh y’know, just her little crush on midoriya’s boy.”
“yer fuckin’ kiddin’ me.”
“i would never joke about such a thing,  just make sure you’re home in time for dinner, number two!” you squeal, dashing out of the office before your husband has time to demand more answers from you. slamming the door shut, you chuckle at the melody of curses that leave your husbands mouth before heading off to pick up your daughter.
on your way, you admit to yourself , that maybe you didn’t have this fight in the bag. but what you did have; was a loving husband, a beautiful daughter and the best life you could have ever imagined.
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extended ending:
“so, taiga... daddy hears you have a little... crush on someone.”
you’re in the kitchen, washing the dishes from tonight’s dinner as bakugou wipes tentatively at your little girl’s messy face— she was a poor eater but it’s something you didn’t mind, not when your husband was so soft with cleaning her up. you can see them from where you stand, watching katsuki knowingly.
taiga looks up from the colouring you’d set out for her when she finished up her meal, crimson eyes shining brightly as she fixes her gaze on her father. “mhm mhm!! he’s mister deku’s son! and i’m gonna marry him!”
“no yer not.” bakugou answers simply, looking close to popping a vein.
“why not?”
your husband scoffs, throwing away the tissue he’d used to clean his little girl up before joining her in her colouring. “‘cause daddy says so ‘n boys are gross, especially ones who’s dad’s look like broccoli.” the older ash blonde seems satisfied with his answer, grinning to himself as you dry the dishes with an amused smile.
but taiga isn’t finished, swapping her green crayon for a red one to finish up her drawing. “but you’re a boy...and mommy still married you!”
bakugou pauses, lost for words as taiga continues to colour— humming the theme song from a commercial for some of deku’s merch. you can tell it’s taking everything katsuki’s got not to combust right there on the spot, but he can’t stay mad at taiga for too long, not when she’s describing her wedding and how her daddy is going to walk her down the isle.
setting the dishes to dry and towelling your hands; you smile to yourself as you admire your family. some would say you had it all, and looking at the pair of bakugou’s now, who were you to deny the truth.
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Falling like Snow
Eddie Munson x Female Reader
Author's note- Hiiiii everyone I’m back with a little reader x Eddie one shot. I wrote this cause I personally have never seen snow in my whole life and I can just imagine Eddie wanting to make it special. So yeah I drew a lot from my real life for this but let’s not analyze that. I wrote this pretty quickly between other stories I’m working on so I’m sorry if it sucks <3
Warnings- foul language probably, mentions of drugs (weed) uhhhhh probably will be it. Hopefully fluffy
Summary- y/n tells Eddie how they’ve never seen snow. When the reader finally gets to see snow Eddie decides to make it special. 2.4k words
“Never? Not even once? How is that possible? Haven’t you lived in Hawkins for like 4 years now?”
For some reason Eddie’s line of questioning almost felt embarrassing. Hiding your face behind your hands you begin to respond.
“It’s not like I did it on purpose. I think the snow avoids me wherever I go”
Eddie laughed at your response as he took a long drag of the joint he was holding in his hand before passing it to you.
“I just don’t get it. How can you have gone this long without seeing it?”
“I’m not really sure. Everywhere I go seems to have heat waves when I go there and it only snows in Hawkins whenever I happen to be visiting home. It’s as if I’m just not meant to see it” upon saying the last sentence you actually find yourself a bit sad.
Eddie can hear the sadness in your voice and decided to try and lighten the mood.
“I don’t think snow avoids you. I think you might just be so insanely hot that snow can’t physically exist in the same area as you”
You laugh as you take a hit causing you to cough quite a bit and you look at him with a coy smile before leaning across the couch to give him a quick peck on the lips.
Although you guys had only become official recently it managed to feel like you and Eddie had been together for years. Whenever you two were around each other it just felt like that’s where you were meant to be.
For weeks after that conversation Eddie kept hoping it would snow. He wanted to go meet Mother Nature and somehow convince her to make it snow just for you. It almost weirded Eddie out now that you said something about it. Almost Christmas in Hawkins and there hasn’t been any snow fall all winter. It was bizarre. Maybe snow really did avoid you.
***
It was a Friday night in your bedroom listening to cassettes and eating some food when the phone began to ring. Hopping up from your place on the bed you go to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Hey. How’s my fair maiden this evening?”
“A bit bored to be totally honest. How’s my knight in shining armor?”
“Going out of his mind without his princess. Can I come pick you up? Bring you back to mine for a sleepover?”
The giddiness that left your body could be heard over the phone. Making Eddie laugh.
“I’ll take that as a yes. I’ll be there in 20”
You quickly ran to your closet and grabbed your usual bag as you threw some outfits and movies and a toothbrush in your bag and flung it over your shoulders. Not bothering to change out of your pajamas you decide to wait on the porch for Eddie.
It definitely takes Eddie more than 20 minutes to get to your house. As you sit there waiting on the porch you realize just how cold it is and you think about running in to grab some warmer clothes but decide you’re too lazy to walk all the way back upstairs. You’re sat there for so long that your teeth are chattering and your whole body is shaking by the time Eddie’s van arrives.
As Eddie pulls up to your house he sees you sitting on the porch and is immediately hopping out of his Van and running up to you.
“Baby what the fuck are you doing?!? It’s freezing out here? You tryna catch something?”
As he finally reaches you and you stand up on shaky legs he reaches out to grab your bag for you and his hand brushes yours, feeling just how cold you are. Upon feeling how cold you are and observing how badly you’re shaking he pulls you in for a hug. Pulling away from the hug he shrugs off his leather jacket and puts it on you.
“Shit baby. Let’s get you to the van you’re gonna freeze to death out here”
He ushers you to the van and immediately rolls up the windows and doesn’t smoke the entire drive home as he has the heat on full blast for you.
“I’m so sorry I was late, baby. I took the usual street but there was a bad accident on the road so we had to detour. That’s why I’m taking the long way home”
“It’s okay Eddie really. I should have just waited for you inside”
“Yeah why didn’t you?”
You look back out at the window and to the sky where the clouds are gathered above your head. “Looks like there’s a storm coming. Was hoping I’d get to see some lighting action”
Eddie removed one of his hands from the steering wheel and rubbed it up and down your thigh for a moment before intertwining your frozen hand with his warm one.
***
Upon reaching Eddie’s trailer he gave you some of his sweatpants and a long sleeved shirt to wear. As you were changing in the bathroom Eddie decided to make a cozy set up in the living room bringing some blankets and pillows and even lighting the few candles he had. Making sure to order pizza before setting out the movie selections he had for you two.
Upon eating the pizza and putting on a movie of your choice you find yourself drifting away on Eddie’s couch wrapped in his arms. He finds himself drifting off with you as he runs his hands over your back.
In the early hours of the morning Eddie’s eyes begin to flutter open and he takes in his surroundings. His eyes float down to wear you’re resting on his chest and he just watches you breathe for a moment. Basking in your company as his eyes continue to float through the room before his eyes land on the window.
Outside he can see the white snowflakes falling towards the ground. As silently and slowly as he can he maneuvers out from under you and gently rests your head on the pillow of the couch. Quietly rushing over to the window he looks out to see the entire trailer park covered in snow.
Eddie looks back at you for a moment and admires your face before rushing into his room. He grabs his leather jacket and a sweatshirt and begins looking for some clothes for you. You were surely going to look ridiculous in all these gigantic clothes but he didn’t care.
Walking back to the living room Eddie kneels next to the couch and begins to run his hand along your face gently stroking. On your forehead he lightly taps his fingers a few times and your eyes begin to flutter open.
“Hey baby…” he whispers trying to lull you out of your sleep.
“Baby come on you gotta get up”
You open one eye and look up at him from the couch.
“Come on Ed’s I’m comfy. Why’s I gotta get up”
You drape your arm across your face dramatically and cuddle deeper into the couch.
“Fine fine I just wanted to take my girl out to see the snow but if you wanna stay in here so badly I won’t force you”
Your eyes shot open and you sat up straight. Looking from his eyes and to the window behind him you shoot up off the couch and rip open the curtains to see the ground covered in snow. Without thinking you rip open the door to the trailer and run out into the snow barefoot.
“Y/N?!?? WAIT'' Eddie came running out after you trying to grab you. He paused his movements and just watched you. Watched as his crazy girl stood there barefoot and underdressed in the snow as you stood there attempting to catch a snowflake on your tongue. He’d never seen anything quite beautiful and he wanted to capture every detail of you in this moment and keep it in his heart forever. It almost wasn’t a choice he knew he’d never forget you in this moment.
You finally took your eyes off the snow and turned to look at him.
“Isn’t it beautiful Ed’s? It’s amazing”
“Yeah…it’s stunning. Never seen anything quite like it”
He wasn’t looking at the snow. You knew that and it made you blush. Forcing yourself to turn your attention from the weather you walk over to Eddie and give him a kiss. He wraps his arms around you and lifts you up wrapping your legs around his waist as he begins walking to the trailer.
“Wait Ed’s I wasn’t done I wanna play in the snow more!”
“Don’t worry, pretty girl, I'll get you back out there when you’re dressed for it. Lucky you didn’t lose a toe standing out there all barefoot baby”
Getting back In the trailer you change into the outfit Eddie picked out for you and true to what he suspected, it looked totally ridiculous on you. You didn’t care. Even running out the door in his big boots and sweatpants that threatened to trip you with every step. You didn’t let any of it slow you down.
Eddie made sure to grab his Polaroid as you made your way back to the snow. He was going to make sure to capture as much as he could. Watching as you collapsed into the snow he grew worried for a second before realizing what you were doing.
“COME ON EDDIE!!!! YOU GOTTA MAKE A SNOW ANGEL WITH MEEEEEE”
He shook his head and set the camera down on the steps of his trailer and went to make snow angels with you. When you were done making matching snow angels he took photos of it. He also took pictures of you covered in snow.
He took photos of you sticking your tongue out to catch more snowflakes and this time he couldn’t resist. Sneaking up on you when you weren’t paying attention and sticking his tongue out to lick yours in a sloppy kiss forcing you to miss the snowflakes but causing you both to laugh.
Eddie was able to teach you how to make a snowman for the first time.
“Eddie we can’t have our snowman smoking a cigarette and it’s a waste of a cigarette anyways”
“Okay if I can’t have the cigarette then I’m putting the horns back on the table”
“Fine Eddie. He’ll be the most metal snowman ever”
Upon completion of the snowman and celebratory photos you stood there staring at the snowman. Admiring your work as Eddie walked up from behind and wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder.
As the two of you stood there you weren’t expecting to hear another voice.
“Y/n?!? Eddie?!? Where the hell have you two been? Neither of you answered the radio!”
Eddie sighed and turned towards the group of kids walking towards them from Max’s trailer.
Turning to Dustin and delivering his sentence with as much snark as Dustin had asked them in.
“We’ve been busy butthead. What do you guys want”
None of the children said anything but Max held up a fist full of snow and you very quickly got the hint. Taking cover, you and Eddie begin to battle the children in a snowball fight. Eventually Steve, Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan arrived after Eddie sent them an sos over the radio. They joined your team and you all had an epic battle across the trailer park.
After hitting Mike and Lucas with some sick snowballs you and Eddie take cover behind his van. Out of breath from running. You’re in the process of making another snowball and notice that Eddie isn’t. Looking up you find him staring at you.
“Come on Ed’s we need some ammo” you try to place some snow in his hands but he just drops the snow and takes your hand in his as he looks you in the eyes.
“I’m in love with you”
Nothing mattered in that moment. Not the snow, not the ensuing snowball battle, not inter dimensional monsters. Nothing. Nothing outside of you and him crouched beside that van mattered. As the tears welled in your eyes and you jumped into his arms for a deep kiss as your hands stroked through his hair.
Leaning back you grab his face in your hands.
“I’m in love with you too Ed’s”
You gave him a gentle kiss on his nose and then his lips.
Eventually the gang made their way into the trailer and Nancy made everybody some hot cocoa as everyone gathered in the living room to watch tv. You and Eddie got to sit on the couch and the rest of the gang had to find seating on the floor or wherever they could find as you all watched a National Lampoons Christmas Adventure.
Laying on Eddie’s chest and studying his face instead of the actual movie until he couldn’t ignore the feeling of you watching him. His hand trails up and down your side.
“Hey pretty lady. What’s goin on in that head of yours''
“If I say I fell for you the way the snow falls would you find that too cheesy?”
“No. I don’t think that’d be cheesy at all”
He kissed the top of your head and watched as you drifted off on top of him once again. Throughout the night all the guests eventually made their way home and it was just you and Eddie left. As the snow fell atop the trailer all Eddie could think about was the words you’d said to him and he couldn’t help but agree. Falling for you the way the snow falls. How he fell for you steadily and softly. Upon falling for you all his love piles on top of itself. Covering your relationship in a blanket of warm snow. And upon this realization he hugs you closer and drifts to sleep.
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shurisneakers · 3 years
Text
harmless (x)
Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)
Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, anxiety, smidge of angst, mentions of violence
Word count: 7.8k (i went overboard. clearly.)
A/N: as well all know, i am a humanities student writing science geeks. if any of this sounds unrealistic or nonsensical, it’s because it is and i am honestly too exhausted to research data privacy and AI so here’s my take on how STEM should work i.e. the power of friendship  <3 major shoutout to @iamlittlesparkler for the idea for this chapter!
here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333
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Previous Part  || Series Masterlist
“As you know, we have a busy week ahead of us.” 
Coffees line the conference room table, pens click against the stacks of paper that settle in front of various agents and the smell of deodorant mixed with post-training sweat lingers at the back of the room like a disgusting witch concoction. 
“The annual parade is coming up and since there are a few security threats, SHIELD has been asked to step in. Therefore, all of you will be working security this week, possibly even at the parade.” Murmurs broke out in the room the minute this was said; mostly from first year field agents who were way too excited to have earpieces and fingerless gloves. 
Bucky, on the other hand, doesn’t think much of it. They’ve dealt with threats before, most were declared empty the minute it got out that SHIELD or the Avengers were involved. It’s the 12th one that year. 
“That’s only if we don’t catch it first,” Steve continued. “Our first priority is precaution. The tech and analytics teams are working on it. However, if you see anything suspicious, bring it up with Director Fury. He’s going to be around to make sure we’re not overlooking anything. Do you have any questions?”
More whispers erupted at the mention of Fury’s name. Wait till they realise he lives up to his name when they accidentally manage to set him off just by existing incorrectly.
Bucky smirks at the thought.
“You can leave then.” Steve straightens up as chairs shuffle against the carpeted floor, over twenty people leaving the room.
“And remember, if you see an eagle today, be sure to stand there and thank it on behalf of Steve for its service. Freedom! Liberty! And whatever else,” Tony calls out from the corner of the room, earning a sigh from the captain. Others only snicker as they close the door behind them.
“Thanks.” Steve stares at him stone faced, bemused at the symbolism that had been bestowed upon him.
“Gotta keep the patriotism high.” The only ones that remain are the official team. Bucky thinks that he should have left with the other agents but apparently, it was rude and not a good show of team spirit.
“How serious is this threat anyway?” Clint has his head face down on the table, hand holding his to-go coffee cup so it doesn’t fall over. 
“We’re not sure.” Steve finally takes a seat on the chair in front of him. “It’s the biggest event we’ve had this year, wouldn’t put it past them.”
“If it’s those Welsh kids again, I’m gonna punch a hole through their house this time,” Clint warns, voice muffled through the furniture. 
“It’s not them, we checked.” Nat had her leg up on the armrest of Clint’s chair. “Tech team’s been working overtime to figure it out.”
“You have anything that could help?” Sam sends a nod towards Tony.
“I got a few things but it’d take a while to put it together.” 
“Didn’t you learn quantum physics in a night?” Wanda’s picking apart a cookie into pieces, chewing slowly.
“Thermodynamic astrophysics,” he corrects her. “Quantum science took lesser.”
Bucky scoffs slightly at the brag, eyes still trained on the table in front of him. Maybe if he made no noise, they would forget he’s here.
“Yeah, so this should be a piece’a cake.”  
“If your cake was somehow made out of a highly specified tracker that somehow doesn’t violate the data privacy of the entire world while analysing millions of terabytes worth of information, then yeah. A piece of it.”
“What he means to say-” Bruce interjects, “-is that we’re trying. It’s just taking longer than usual.”
“Well, the parade’s this Sunday. Think it’ll be done by then?”
“Hey FRIDAY,” Tony crosses his arm over his chest. “How many hours have I slept this week?”
“Three and a half, boss.”
“How much more will I be getting?”
“From previous experience, about six.”
“Yeah, we can get it done.” Tony looks back at Steve. 
“Ask someone on the tech team to help you out.” Everyone was well aware of Tony’s bad coping mechanisms and how futile it was to get him to change his mind about it, but they still tried.
“They’re too busy.” Bruce pressed his lips into a straight line. 
Bucky tunes out at this point. If he could help, he would have reluctantly chimed in by now, but he couldn’t. 
“So what now?” Sam rips Clint’s doughnut into two, keeping one half for himself while leaving the other to the latter who still hadn’t lifted his head up from the table.
“I actually asked Fury if I could call in an external to come help,” Tony pipes up. 
“And he agreed?” Nat raised an eyebrow.
“After he realised I wasn’t going to leave his office until he said yes.” He pulled out his phone, rapidly typing out a message before hitting send. “It didn’t take too long.”
“Do we know this person?” Steve asks a little suspiciously.
“Well-” Bruce sneaks a glance at the broody man on the chair, “-kinda.”
Everyone can tell Bucky isn’t paying attention by the way he’s glaring holes into the plant. He doesn’t mean to, it just so happens that it looks like he wants to kill it. Nobody tends to bother him during meetings, knowing well and fully that he did not care.
“You’re about to.” Tony jumps up, making his way to the door to pull it open.
Bucky perks up. An open door means they can leave, right? He can go watch The Bachelor? He’s not sure what everyone was talking about, but if the meeting was over he could go ask Wanda who was always kind enough to help.
“Our newest recruit,” the billionaire announces, quickly adding the next part, “on a trial basis.” 
Bucky looks at the door.
His jaw drops open.
“No,” he says loudly, posture immediately stiff as a plank. 
“Hello to you too, Barnes.” You roll your eyes before sending a small wave to everyone else. “Hey everyone.”
“What are you doing here?” He looks like he’s seething. 
“Don’t tell me you forgot about our date.” You cross your arms over your chest in defiance. “You told me 3 o’clock, you player.”
“What is she doing here?” He whips to Steve for an answer.
“Hey Y/N,” Sam greets with a smile on his face before Steve can reply.
“Sam Wilson, good to see you again.” You grin.
“Right back at ya, sugar.” 
Wanda looks amused, Clint finally lifts his head off the table at the mention of your name while Nat takes her feet off his armrest, and Steve’s body relaxes when he realises what’s going on. 
“Okay.” Tony claps his hand. Bucky shoots daggers at him. “As you all know, this is Y/N. She’s going to working with us this week.”
“This is ridi- how did you even find out about her?”
“Aside from the fact that she’s all you talk about?” Clint snorts. Bucky shifts his glare to him. It was bullshit and an exaggeration and Clint was going to get a shoe up his ass very soon.
Your grin only grows bigger.
“We saw one of the repulsors she made some time ago,” Bruce answers his question like the sane person that he is. “Tony’s had her in mind for a while.”
“Repulsors? How on ear-” Bucky connects two and two together before turning to Sam. “You. You got her this job.”
“Sam’s my best wingman.” You send him a small heart made from your hands. Whether the pun was intentional or not, no one would know.
“Don’t look at me, I had nothing to do with this idea.” Sam raised his hands to brush off the blame.
“You’re a villain,” he points out loudly.
“I’m a saint.” You raise your hand to your heart in mock offence. “I have done nothing wrong in my life, ever.”
“Listen, Robocop,” Tony interrupts your conversation, bringing the attention back to him, “I cleared it with Fury. He’s the boss here.”
“Fury doesn’t know-”
“What don’t I know?” The atmosphere of the room changes the minute he saunters in. 
With an eyepatch on his face, gaze sharp and a long black coat, Nick Fury puts Bucky’s dark outfits to shame. Not like he was competing. 
Bucky doesn’t continue his sentence. Nick’s imposing presence loomed at the doorway, putting a stop to the ridiculous arguments that were beginning to boil. Instead, he looks at you, only to find your attention trained on the man of the hour.
“Nicholas,” you half cheer from where you had shifted to in the middle of all the commotion. 
Nicholas?
Nicholas?
No one had ever called him Nicholas. 
“Y/L/N,” Nick addresses in return. “Been a while.”
“You haven’t come to the lair in months, Nick.” You pout at him. “I even sent you an invite.”
Bucky furrows his eyebrows. Since when are you on such good terms with Fury? Since when was anyone on good terms with Fury?
“It must have gotten lost in the mail,” he fires back, “Or maybe it’s because I just happen to be the busiest man in the damn country. Take your pick.”
You roll your eyes, muttering something under your breath, but the good natured smile on your face shows that you didn’t take any of his passive- or straight up- aggressiveness to heart. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I was interrupting your little tea time.” He looks around the rest of the room with an edge in his voice. “Don’t you all have work to do?”
“We do,” Tony interrupts, holding up his hand before pointing to Bruce and you. “Everyone else just sorta sits around and looks pretty.”
“I’m gonna go talk to the organisers, see what spots are most vulnerable.” Steve stands up. “You coming?”
“Yep,” Sam responds, flicking Clint’s shoulder to drag him along. “Come on, man. When was the last time you took a shower?”
“I’ll go see what the kids are up to in training. They’re probably flying off the handle right now.” Natasha brushes off crumbs from her lap. “Barnes, you in?”
Bucky silently shakes his head, eyes focused on you as you introduce yourself to every Avenger who walks out of the room, sharing a small fist bump with Sam.
“I’ll do it,” Wanda volunteers instead, finally leaving behind only the Science Bros, you and Bucky in the room with Fury. 
“I’ll give you a tour of the lab.” Tony beckons and you nod, following him. “New eyepatch, Fury? Prada, I assume?”
“Stark,” Nick says curtly. 
Bucky stares after you, arms still folded across his chest.
“Any problem, Sergeant?” 
Other than the fact that his arch nemesis was now working with his friends, no, not really. But that did seem like a pretty big one.
“No,” Bucky mumbles instead, getting up from his place finally.
Apparently, no one else was worried about the possibly lethal combination of you and Stark, even with Banner there to dilute it. 
Fine.
Guess he just has to observe you the whole week.
Well, half a week. It was Wednesday. 
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He observes inconspicuously over the rim of his coffee cup. He has a newspaper spread in front of him at Bruce’s table. 
It’s not suspicious. He’s been there multiple times to sit in silence with the scientist who occasionally tinkers with something while engaging Bucky in tidbits of conversation. He finds it calming, refreshing even
Today he has an agenda. Everyone knows about it too. 
“You know he’s staring at you, right?” Bruce looks up briefly from the giant blueprint laid in front of the group. 
Tony had been dragged away to get a proper meal into him after he stayed up for 36 hours straight with caffeine keeping his system running. 
“He has a tendency to do that.” You’re looking over the plan the three of you had come up with the day before. There were certain changes to be made in terms of efficiency. “Turns out if you annoy him, he stares harder.”
“We’ve heard about the inventions. Inators, he calls them?”
“Yeah,” you point out something on the sheet, drawing a circle around it to come back to later, “only good things I hope?”
“He doesn’t really talk much.” Bruce writes down a small comment against your arrow mark. “But if he hated them, he’d have a lot to say. So I’d take it as a compliment.”
“Would it annoy him if I did?”
“Probably.”
“I’ll take it as a compliment, then. Pass me the ruler?” You draw a line connecting two pieces. 
Bucky’s ability to lip read is excellent but he refuses to do it, for privacy purposes. He knew that SHIELD had pulled some strings and had another teacher substituting for your classes the whole week since your other option was to come only after school hours. Anything else about this plan was murky.
“You gonna sit there all day?” Tony looks over his shoulder, following his line of sight.
“I’ve done it before.” He continues to look over the newspaper at you with your finger extended at something on the blueprint as you explained something to Bruce.
“You look like- how do I say this nicely.” He wasn’t going to. “A fuckin’ stalker.”
“I’m supposed to stop her from doing anything evil.”
“Sure.” Tony snorts. “That’s what this is. Should I get you a fedora and sunglasses while we’re at it?”
Of course Stark wouldn’t care; he brought you into this project. It was pretty much impossible to get him to agree with Bucky.
Bucky just narrows his eyes and continues his observation. 
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The menu of the cafeteria keeps changing. They like to keep things interesting.
Every time they do, Bucky spends too long staring at the menu, trying to figure out what exactly is familiar enough to order. Vietnamese week had him eating pho the entire duration it stayed.
“You plannin’ on eating anytime this century, sarge?” He recognises your voice immediately. 
He knows what time your break is and he knows that you generally eat lunch in the cafeteria with the science team. Generally, the three of you pour over solutions and debate points all through the meal, and he spends the time getting acquainted with his new, lowkey Instagram account. 
He blocks the Bucky Barnes hashtag the minute he gets an account again. God save his eyes from people asking him to break their back like a glow-stick. However, one afternoon of accidentally watching three cat videos has led to his entire explore page being taken over by them and he’s been trying for three days to get it to stop. 
“Just trying to-” he tilts his head. “-understand what I’m reading.”
“Not a big fan of Greek food?” You join him in looking at the menu. 
“Never really had the chance to try.” Tony and Bruce don’t seem to be in the room, probably pushing aside their meal to work on it as they’ve often done.
“Ah.” You already had your order in mind but you wait there. 
Two minutes later he’s still staring at the menu. He can feel your presence next to him, unmoving. It unnerves him.
“Why are you still standing here?” He cranes his neck to look at you.
“I’m just seeing how long it takes for you to order.” You shrug. “So far it’s been five minutes and forty six seconds. Forty eight now.”
“Go away.” The concept of someone standing beside him, waiting for him to do something reminded him far too much of him trying to bag his stuff at the grocery counter rapidly while other customers waited to pay. 
“Six minutes and thirty seconds. This is just sad now.”
“Your face is sad.” It was pathetic that he had now resorted to this.
It earned a laugh from you. 
As entertaining as it was to be able to get on his nerves by just standing silently next to him, you finally ask, “Do you want a recommendation?” 
He eyes you wearily. “You gonna give me food poisoning?” 
“Not today, no.” You shake your head slightly. “Maybe tomorrow.”
He stares a little longer. You remain unshaken in your offer.
“Fine.” He sighs, stepping aside. 
You tell him that since it’s his first time, you’d get him something basic. He thought it made sense. 
He argued with you when you ended up paying for the both of you, only shutting up when you told him he’s holding up the line and that he could pay you back later. It doesn’t stop his incessant mumble complaining. 
He ends up with gyros at his table and you sitting opposite him with your meal. He asks where the Science Bros are. You tell him it’s Science Hoes now, as christened by Tony, and that they’re in the lab.
“So?” You look at him eagerly.
“What?”
“How is it?” you urge, nodding at him.
He takes a cautious bite, really taking his time with it to annoy your impatient ass. 
“Well?” You raise your eyebrow at him.
“It’s-” he pauses, looking down at his food. “-good.”
“Aha.” You lean back victoriously. “Knew it.”
He likes it. He also knows that this is probably going to be the only thing he orders for the next week unless you had planned otherwise. 
“You’re not eating?” He gestures to your untouched tray.
“Taking it up to the lab. Got a few things to work on and we’re already behind.” You gather up your stuff and get up.
“Uh-” he pauses from practically inhaling the entire thing. He was already halfway done with it. “-thanks.”
“No problem. You wink at him. “Try figuring out what’s wrong with it.” 
You turn on your heel to leave, taking your order with you. He can see your shoulders bobbing with silent laughter. 
He stares down at his plate, swallowing slowly. 
He pokes at it with a fork, lifting up the leftovers to check if there’s anything underneath. Nothing. 
He checks to see if his limbs are still intact or his face was a different colour. Nope.
His stomach twists in worry about what’s going to happen. He still has a bit left but he pushes the tray aside.
The rest of the day he spends supervising you has you occasionally catching his eye, only to laugh. It only freaks him out more.
It takes eight hours of waiting and self induced tests later to realise there was nothing wrong with it. You were just playing with him.
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He’s surprised to find you in the rec room when he strolls in with Sam, given that you haven’t taken a break all day.
You don’t share the same surprise... almost like you expected him.
“How long have you been waiting for me?” he immediately asks.
"I wasn’t here for you.” You raise an eyebrow at him. “Heard that Wilson was makin’ an appearance here soon so I stopped by to get a good look at him."
"Take a picture, it'll last longer.” Sam laughs, inserting a dollar into the machine and punching in the code for what he wanted.
"Gladly. Strike a pose, would you?" You grin, raising your phone.
“Maybe when I’m not covered in sweat.” Sam counter offers and you accept with a thumbs up.
“You going to the parade, Sam?” You toy with the can in your hands.
“I’ll be working security, so probably.”
“Sarge?” You take a swig of your drink.
“Huh?” He snaps back into the conversation, putting a stop to the mental list of reasons he was making of why you could be here at the same time as him. He knew your schedule, it wouldn’t be very hard for you to figure out his.
“You coming to the parade on Sunday?” you ask again.
“I guess.”
You wince.
“What?” he asks instantly, curiosity making him a lot sloppier than usual.
“It’s just- you wear so much black.” You gesture to his current getup to prove your point. ”I feel like all the bright colours would vaporise you if you looked at them.”
He doesn’t look amused.
“You know, like Prince Philip.”
“I think I’ll be fine.” He gives you a sarcastic smile.
“You comin’ Buck?” Sam laughs, unwrapping the bar he bought from the machine.
“You go ahead, I’ll catch up,” Bucky says offhandedly, still glaring at you innocently drinking your soda.
Sam chews absentmindedly on his protein bar as he walks out, amused at the situation Bucky pulled himself into.
“What’d you do?” Bucky asks, studying your body language.
“I bought a soda.” You lift the can to prove your point. “And now I’m drinking it.”
“Why are you waiting for me?”
“I thought I’d return the favour,” you point out. “I’m supervising you.”
“Don’t.” He walks to the vending machine, pulling out his wallet for some loose change. There was a Snickers bar he had been craving since morning that he bought every alternate day. Small joys.
“Why? I have the time.” You take a sip, setting it down with a clang.
“You’re only here for this week.” Bucky counted the coins he had. He’d use a dollar but he was trying to get rid of the jingling in his pocket that made him sound like a fucking clown when he walked.
“Actually,” you begin innocuously, “Tony offered me a full-time position.”
Bucky’s movements stop, hunched over the money in his palm.
“What?”
“Yeah.” You nod seriously. “A full nine-to-five as a researcher here.”
“And you’re taking it.” He shakes himself out of the minor shock to assess the damage.
“I don’t know. I got a lot of things to consider.” The chair scrapes against the tiled floor as you stand up. “But maybe you should get used to seeing me a lot more around here.”
He punches in the code for his Snickers. The row whirs forward slowly.
“See you at the lab.” He hears you discard the empty can in the trash before exiting.
He waits patiently for his bar to drop while his mind internally screams about the consequences of having you work here. You wouldn’t be evil anymore. Unless you were here to steal secrets from the Tower. On the pro side, his weekend would be free again. On the con side, his weekend would be free again.
His bar stops right at the edge of the row. He waits for it to fall over. It doesn’t.
He shakes the machine, suppressing the primal urge to beat the shit out of it when the damn bar refuses to fall.
He punches in a few random buttons hoping that at least it would give his money back.
The little monitor instead flashes a new message across the screen.
‘Have a good day, sarge <3’
Motherfucker.
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Captain America looks less daunting up close, you realise. But he is still a very large man with very large shoulders. You know at least four people who would like to scale him like a tree, not that you’d ever tell him.
“Hey, Y/N.” He sends you a small smile when you walk into the room for a mid-week update. A clipboard in your hand, report attached and a few stationery items in case some points needed to be noted done, you look professional and ready.
“Afternoon, Captain.” Tony saves a seat for you and Bruce beside him since you’re on the same project. You almost miss the fact that Bucky isn’t in the room.
He walks in a few minutes late; tall, dark and brooding, immediately bringing the excitement in the room down by 40% by just existing. 
Bucky surveys the room before catching your eye. He picks up his chair with ease and drags it over to where you are, sitting right beside you, ignoring the small cry of protest from an agent whose view he now obstructed. Everyone else just silently shifted over.
“Clingy much?” you whisper at him, eyes still trained on Steve who had waited till everyone was seated to continue.
“I’m supposed t’be keeping an eye on you,” he rebuffs in a hush.
“Well, you’re late. What if I went rogue, huh?”
“Therapy ran overtime,” he mumbles.
“Oh.” You blink. “How was it?”
“Same old.”
“You good?”
He refrains from answering when Steve starts addressing the room but yes, he was fine. He sends you a nod to confirm. 
“This is just a usual checking in. We’ve received all your reports, but just to keep everyone on the same page-”
Bucky logs out mentally. He knows what his job is, he’ll probably lead a division of the security team or join the mission to neutralise the threat in case they find it first. Either way, he’ll figure it out without having to listen to an intern nervously stammer their way through their team’s report. 
On the other hand, you’re not listening either. You were until you saw Bucky’s eyes glaze over while glowering at the window, assuming that he had stopped paying attention when his gaze doesn’t shift.
You should be listening. You’re new here and you should know what’s going on because any bits of detail are crucial to the working of your system. 
Instead, you rip out a sticky note and discreetly place it on the back of Bucky’s metal arm. He doesn’t notice.
You bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling. More post-its from your pile of stationery make their way onto the vibranium, shades of pink, purple, green and yellow decorating his arm like a bulletin board. 
You’re about to contemplate sticking one on his shoulder blade when he whips around to look at you. You freeze, hand in the air with a sticky note. He looks down at his arm, a scoff escaping him in disbelief. 
“Are you serious?” He twists his arm to check the extent of how far you’ve gone. “What are you, six?”
“How’d it take you so long to notice?” You watch as he tugs them off one by one, counting to see how many you had managed to get on there.
“It’s impossible not to zone out in these shitty meetings,” he mumbles, pulling off the last one, crumpling all of them into a ball to throw at you. You skilfully avoid them. 
“Don’t you feel pressure or heat or anything here?” You poke at his metal arm.
“No.” He clenches and releases the fist. “It can block bullets though.”
You snort. “Bet that’s a popular line in bed.”
He rolls his eyes. “I mean, it helps that I can’t feel anything. Sometimes,” he adds the last part as an afterthought. 
“Like when you’re blocking bullets.”
“Especially then.” He nods. 
“Would you ever want to?” you ask casually. “Like if you got the choice, would you prefer having feeling in that arm?”
“I don’t know.” He’s thought about it, but it doesn’t seem feasible in his line of work. He’d like it, though, to feel sand slipping through his fingers and the comforter under his palm. “Maybe when I’m retired.”
“Aren’t you well past that age?”
“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes. “And pay attention. You’re next.”
“So you are listening.” True to his word, Steve asks about what’s going on with your team. “Traitor.” 
Tony shoots off about how you only had to test it out on a small batch first to see if you could acquire the targeted data without compromising anything else. You chime in about a few specifics, and Bruce more or less just confirms what you both are saying, only stopping to let them know that you’d be finished in a day or two.
Steve nods, moving on to the next committee.
“Did I get a good grade?” you whisper when you lean back again.
“B minus at best.” 
“Fuck you, dude. I was great,” you protested. “It’s definitely worth a gold sticker.”
Someone shushes you sharply. You apologise quietly, whacking Bucky’s metal arm when you see a dumb smirk on his face. 
He narrows his eyes at you. 
You try sticking another post-it on him.
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You’re only here for a week. That’s what he’s been told. Over six times, actually, after which he’s been told to go away the next time he asked.
No one’s brought up the job offer so he asks Tony if it was true and all he gets is a dismissive ‘yeah, whatever’. Besides, you haven’t told him if you accepted or denied it yet so isn’t sure if this entire thing is set in stone, per se.
So then why do you have a giant box of your belongings that you’re lugging around the lab, looking to set down?
And why does Tony allow you a table right in the centre of the lab for everyone to see as soon as they walk in?
There are a gazillion trinkets, picture frames and obnoxiously bright stationery that stands out against the dull minimalism of the lab.
“Every single one of these is a fire hazard,” he reports, standing over your desk.
You give him a side glance before reaching over to the side of your desk, pulling up a fire extinguisher and setting it on the table in front of him. “I came prepared, bitch boy.”
He doesn’t dignify that with a response. He chooses to look at what exactly you’ve brought with you because it’s a lot.
There are small cards with ‘thank you!’ sprawled on them in uneven lettering, bits and pieces of paper with small cartoons on them, little clay models and other miniature trophies with ‘you’re the best!’ under it.
“Your students gave you these?” He can’t remember the last time he gave his teacher anything other than a headache.
“Sometimes they learn or communicate better when they have something to keep their hands busy.” There’s a certain fondness in your voice that he isn’t used to hearing. “I end up with a lot of doodles and craft.”
“’s nice of them.” He can tell that this means a lot to you. He hasn’t seen it before.
He thinks the little decorations are adorable and maybe he’d keep another fire extinguisher on hand, just in case. 
Until you start pulling out a set of framed photos and his smile drops.
Several collages of Bucky in flower crowns, him with terribly edited backgrounds of beaches and mountains, a photo of him laughing with ‘Live, Laugh, Love’ next to it in an italicised font.
“What the fuck,” he states, grabbing one of them.
You stifle a laugh, pulling out several more to place along your table.
“Where did you fucking get these?” He starts pulling them off the table one by one.
“I don’t think you know how much the internet is obsessed with you.” You set an especially large one of him in a Hello Kitty bowtie right in the centre. He doesn’t miss the star shaped frame you chose for this.
“What is wrong with you?” He swipes that up immediately, looking for a place to discard, possibly burn these pictures. “Why do you even have these?”
“It’s imperative that people know we’re friends.” You bite your lip, bringing out the last thing to annoy him.
“What is that?” A teddy bear with a blue jacket and a grey felt arm stared into his soul.
“A Bucky bear.” Don’t laugh, don’t laugh, don’t laugh. “Limited edition.”
He snatches it along with the fifteen other picture frames, thinly veiled distress and mostly disgust on his face.
“I hate you.”
“But I love you.” You lift the small heart shaped locket you hung on one of the pictures of your class.
You use both your hands to click it open for him, watching his face morph into one of disbelief.
Bucky my beloved, it read on the right with a small picture of him on the left looking intensely disgruntled. He doesn’t bother asking where you found that specific picture of him outside a Burger King at 3am.
He doesn’t even make an effort to take it away this time. He knows that you’ll simply bring up more and more until you drove him crazy.
“You still have to see the Avengers calendar.” You reach for the inside. “I changed all the pictures to you, it looks great-”
He turns around and leaves before you get a chance to flip open the pages.
He wanders around, looking for the best disposal area he can find. He knows there’s a giant fireplace in the common room in the Tower, and for that, he’d have to go up a couple of floors.
He steps into the elevator, chin pressing down on the several picture frames in his hands to prevent them from falling over.
No one sees him carrying a couple of fan edited pictures and merchandise of him. Which was good.
Unfortunately, the doors ding open on the next floor and his best friend steps on with possibly the worst timing ever.
“Buck?” Steve sounds confused. He should be, considering the sight.
Bucky shimmies slightly to get a better grip on his belongings. “Steven.”
Steve glances at what he’s holding.
“Is this,” Steve pauses, trying to frame his words correctly to sound as supportive as possible, “a therapy thing?”
“No.”
Steve waits for a further explanation.
“It’s Y/N’s,” he elucidates. Steve’s eyebrows furrow.
“Why are there so many pictures of you?” He looks at the content in his hands a little closer. “And a bear.”
“She’s evil. And I hate her.”
“Alright.” It doesn’t answer his question but his friend looks irked enough.
The elevator dings to the common room floor.
Bucky turns on his heel to head toward the place to set all the pictures on fire. He saves the picture frames to give back to you though, he’s sure those cost money. But he makes sure every last square inch of the picture with several hearts around his portrait burns to ash.
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Bucky knows that by the time Saturday afternoon rolls around, the three of you would have been working for thirty hours straight, scrambling to get the last minute details done.
You’re still at it but he can tell through the adrenaline of the upcoming deadline that you’re exhausted. 
Now he’s grouchy but he’s not an asshole. He’s already done two coffee runs for the team and brought you food when you didn’t show up for lunch. He mumbles something and dismisses it when you call out a ‘thank you’ his way. He considers it a debt repaid for the gyros.
He’s still keeping an eye on you but along with an emergency box of doughnuts for any sugar rushes that may be needed and bottles of water that he occasionally leaves at the corner of the table for you three to subconsciously keep yourself hydrated. 
“Are you sure we checked it?”
“Yes.” Bruce nods.
“Double checked it?”
“Yes.”
“Triple checked it.”
“Yes.” 
You look satisfied enough to move on to the next item. “Pass me the welding torch for a second.”
Bucky has a book in front of him that he hasn’t moved beyond the second page of. He’s more interested in seeing who collapses from burnout first. He has the infirmary on speed dial. 
After another hour or so Tony holds up a silver tablet, roughly the same size as a smartphone, examining it from all sides.
“That’s it,” he states. “The final product.”
You exhale lightly.
“We should name it.” You have your hands on your hips, looking down at it in wonder. Maybe the zero hours of sleep was finally kicking in because you couldn’t believe you were finally done. 
“You got any suggestions?” Tony asks. 
To be frank, no, you didn’t.
“No.”
“Okay, we’ll do that later.” Tony sets it down, not sounding too disappointed. “F.R.I.D.A.Y, tell the team to get down here, please.”
“Yes, boss.”
Bucky jumps off his chair to join you in the lab, leaving the book behind. 
It only takes a few moments for the others to join. Fury and Steve walk in together, already engaged in conversation.
“Greetings.” You clap your hands together. “We did it. We think.”
“We think?” Nick raises an eyebrow.
“We know,” Bruce clarifies quickly, stepping in. “We’re positive it works. We tested it out.”
Tony pulls up the holograph of F.R.I.D.AY’s system, sliding the tablet to the middle of the table.
“Is it secured under FRIDAY’s core?”
“Locked and loaded.” Tony hits the table lightly to signify that it was safe.
“I think we’re ready,” Bruce confirms.
“We better be, or else half the country is suddenly going to lose their internet connection,” you say under your breath.
“What?” Bucky’s eyebrows knit together.
“Nothing,” you beamed, “Okay F.R.I.D.A.Y., run sequence, global parameter.”
“Running sequence,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. parrots. 
There was no going back now. 
From what Bucky can see, Tony looks fairly confident but you have your bottom lip caged between your teeth, chewing on it nervously. 
There are several hundreds of photographs popping up and disappearing within a minute. Everything looks like it’s going according to plan.
The giant holograph of the AI dims. Your face drops when F.R.I.D.A.Y. seems to sputter to a halt. 
No one breathes.
In the midst of the tension, Clint mutters if they should play some background music. It’s followed by a swift ‘ow’ when Natasha flicks him in the shoulder.
You could hear a pin drop.
It suddenly picks back up again, running faster than the last time and the sigh everyone collectively heaves is almost comical.
It runs for a few seconds more before a list of names suddenly pop up accompanied by a series of photographs and geo locations.
“Sequence complete. Six names detected, zero encroachment on public or private databases,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. broadcasted. “Location determined to be Holland. Exact coordinates are computed into the quinjet.”
You let out a small cheer, looping your arm around Bruce, squeezing him in a half hug. He has a smile on his face, dropping his head as he laughs slightly. 
“How dangerous are they?” Tony, however, continues to ask.
“A few prior convictions and a series of similar threats. Danger level determined to be at approximately five out of ten.” 
“That’s not bad,” Steve commented. “Looks like we don’t need the full team there.”
“Romanoff, Barton, Wilson, Rogers can go ahead and take care of that,” Nick finally spoke up. “Everyone else is working security tomorrow, just in case anyone else decides that terrorism is on their fuckin’ to-do list for the day.”
“Buck, assemble a team and go over strategy for tomorrow,” Steve adds on. “Everyone else go suit up, wheels up in thirty minutes.” 
“Fuckin’ Holland,” Sam scoffs, shaking his head. “Of all the places.” 
“What do you have against Holland?” Nat asks as they leave together.
“Just don’t like ‘em.” Their voices grow faint the further they get.
“Hey.” A small greeting from behind you has you turning around.
Wanda stands in front of you and you have to ignore the fact that the most powerful being on Earth is talking to you. 
“Hey,” you say back.
“I just wanted to say congratulations. You did a great job.” Bits and pieces of her accent poked out. She didn’t seem like she was putting in the effort to cover it up as opposed to the press interviews you had heard a few years ago. 
“Thank you.” You smile. “T’was a team effort.”
“Well, we owe you one anyway,” Steve joins the conversation, leaving aside Tony who was still talking to Bruce.
“I wish I was humble enough to turn it down but I’m not.” You laugh. “It’s nice to have an arsenal of superheroes at my disposal.”
Steve looks like he’s going to respond but his attention is drawn towards F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s announcement that the quinjet was ready to go. He shoots you an apologetic look but you sign for him to go on, you’d meet with him later.
You watch as he claps Tony on the back, telling him to go get some sleep and something with more nutritional value than a pizza pocket in him, nodding at Bruce before taking leave. 
“Y/L/N,” Nick stands beside you, looking ahead at the conversations being had as Steve tugs Clint along with him.
“Nicky,” you tease.
“I know at least seven underground prisons I can put you in if anyone hears you calling me that,” he says stoically. 
“We all know you won’t get rid of me.” You shake your head. “Who’s gonna send you a Christmas card then, huh?”
He simply shakes his head, jutting his hand out and offering a handshake. “Not sure anyone here could handle another day of a highly caffeinated, sleep-deprived Stark.”
“Just say ‘thanks’, Nick, geez.” You roll your eyes. 
Bucky watches the entire interaction unfurl; only the body language, not employing the lip-reading ability. 
“You’re welcome.” You let go of his hand, a devilish look on your face. “You know what I want in return.”
Nick gives you a long, hard stare that could probably melt through Steve’s shield before turning around to leave. 
But Bucky doesn’t miss the subtle high-five he gives you while walking out, unbeknownst to anyone else, bringing the biggest grin to your face.
He makes it a point to ask you what the fuck kind of leverage you have over the man for him to play favourites with you. 
You finally collapse at your desk, letting out a loud exhale. You clench your eyes shut, your body finally melting into your chair. You look exhausted.
He’s not sure how to help. You don’t seem like you have the energy to tell him.
Bucky leaves a doughnut and water bottle on the table in front of you before shuffling out of the room quietly. 
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He’s certain that he’s spent far too long in Bruce’s lab this week. He liked the man as much as the next guy, but he probably wouldn’t come down there for the foreseeable future. 
You’re at your assigned desk, reading light illuminating the space. Thankfully you’ve cleared up most of your stuff from the table, leaving no more liabilities to fall over in case he walked into the desk. 
“So you’re done for the week.” His voice surprises you. You were scrolling through your phone, slightly hunched over.
“It appears so.” You put your phone down, swivelling the chair to look at him. 
“How’d it go?” He leans against your table, making sure he isn’t using his full weight.
“Well, I slept for fifteen hours straight, so...” you leave him to connect the dots. He’s done the same several times.
“You’re probably gonna need more,” he says, mostly from his own experience, “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”
“Actually-” you reach beside your table and lug your gigantic box of belongings onto the table with a loud thud, “-you won’t.”
He looks at the box that was nearly overflowing with its contents, the majority of the space being taken up by empty picture frames. “I thought you said Tony offered you a job.” 
“He did,” you confirm. “I didn’t accept.”
“Why?” He watches you shift through a few things, adjusting it so that it wouldn’t fall over.
“This whole thing- it’s cool and all, but it’s not what I want to do.” You shrug. “I like teaching. I miss my class.”
He gaze lands on one of the thank you notes sticking out from the corner of the box. “Ah.”
“Back to school from tomorrow.”
“And evil on the weekends?” he prods, dropping a pen into the heap of stationery. 
“Obviously.” You give him a lopsided smile. “Where else am I gonna use all this brilliance?”
You point to your head. He lets out a small exhale in the form of a laugh.
“Speaking of-” You look like you just remembered something.  
You rummage through your backpack and pull out a small container, handing it to him.
“What’s this?” He turns it over, looking for any hidden clues. “Are you proposing again, because I’ve said no-”
“I’m not proposing,” you interrupt, “yet.”
He gives you a deadpan look.
“Open it,” you urge, and he complies.
Two small squares sit side-by-side. They’re slick black, barely bigger than the face of a dice.
“You put one of them here-” You tap on his bicep “-and the other here.” You tap his shoulder, a few inches below his clavicle.
“What does it do?” He thinks it’s like Nat’s little taser things, a nifty little tool that he could use on missions.
“It, uh-” you hesitate “-it allows you to feel sensation in your metal arm. Heat, pressure, texture.”
His breath hitches in his throat. He doesn’t mean for it to happen, it just does.
“You said that sometimes you’re glad you couldn’t because of the bullets and stuff. They’re detachable, so just take them off when you go on missions and wherever it is you Spandex ambassadors go.” You scoff slightly. 
He can’t remember the last time he felt something soft with that arm or used it for something that wasn’t directly related to his job.  
“I’m not messing with what the Wakandans gave you. It’s the most advanced piece of tech out there.” You shrug. “But if you ever want to feel it when someone attaches sticky notes to your arm, this could work. Just thought it’d be nice to have an option.”
He can’t decipher what he’s feeling right now. He looks up at you, only to catch you eyeing him cautiously, assessing his reaction. When you notice he’s looking at you, a nervous smile makes its way onto your face. 
His stomach does a flip. 
“Thank you,” he says quietly. 
“Don’t mention it.” You sound a little relieved, picking up the box that he’s pretty sure weighed a ton what with all his memorabilia in it. “See you next week.”
He doesn’t know how to explain what it means to him. 
Instead, he shoves his hands into his pockets. “What are you doing later?”
“Nothing.” You pause. “Why?”
“Are you gonna watch the parade?” 
“Yeah, probably.” You shift your weight to your other leg to compensate for the box.
“Want some company?”
“Aren’t you heading a security division?” You have to consciously hide the bewilderment from your voice. 
“Yeah. The place I’m stationed just so happens to have a good look into the street,” he explains, toying with the bracelet on his wrist. “Can’t really promise that I’ll be paying attention to it or that I’d even be there the whole time but for the most part...” he trails off. 
“Uh-” You force yourself to shove aside your surprise at his determination, “yeah, sure. That’d be cool.”
He nods. “Okay. See you there.” 
“See you,” you murmur as you walk to the elevator. 
He opens the tiny container to look at the small chips. They’re still there, silently like they don’t change his world just by existing. 
Gosh.
Next part
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yostresswritinggirl · 4 years
Note
Can I get a request where Xiao has a Adeptus! s/o and how the relationship would work? (Small little side note: I imagine it might be a bit of a slow burn too)
I was gonna pick an angst prompt but I had to hold back, considering he might not come with angst u_u Let's hope he and everyone enjoys this enough that he manifests for my next set of pulls ywy
Catch Your Breath
Xiao x Adeptus!S/O in Headcanon form (masterlist)
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Background
You've long known Xiao ever since he ascended to be one of the strongest Yakshas, a part of Rex Lapis' unit that you tended to the most. Because you are still under the guidance of Skybracer, you are not meant to fight in the battlefront, but to assist your fellow adeptis and the mortals who needs you.
You and Xiao became close upon the defeat of the Lord of Vortex Osial and the unending manifestations of his rage, which came to haunt near your domain, making it easy for you to detect the demons and alert everyone of the dangers that were to rise.
Somehow out of them five, you felt more attached with the humanistic yet feral Xiao. While you mingled with them five in assurance that they were still sane and stable, he resonated with you more due to his form resembling your being better.
And his strength and restraint came into par when he saved you from Menogias' rampage, of which he himself had to stop together with Bosacius.
Your days after that were filled with nightmares over the loss of a great Yaksha and your near-death experience. You still continued your duties of observing the demonic activities but your held reservation and distance when interacting with the Yakshas, Xiao was especially aware of this.
Finally one day he worked up the courage to enter your domain and approach you, and after several coaxing you finally broke down with all your fears and restless nights poured onto him. And he was silently consoling.
After that Xiao started coming over every night before you were settling to rest, finding his presence always managing to chase away your nightmares, and it would be a thousand years later that you'd come to realize that he had been eating your bad dreams to make sure you rest well.
In time you both ended up becoming each other's pillar of support during the archon war and even after that timeline, you still find (and needed) the comfort each other brings.
The relationship only ever started when he found out about the implications through his observation of Verr and her husband, realizing that he too longs for a similar fate with you.
Thank goodness you felt the same way, even if it took thousands of years of hiding.
Skybracer and the Guardian Yaksha
After the death of Skybracer, you took on his role and domain to honor your mentor. You may not be as strong or suitable to make the same sacrifice as he, yet you held your own fairly well in protecting Liyue, enough that the humans from the distant Harbour knew and kneels to your presence.
This might be why Xiao despises the pilgrims that stubbornly seek out the adepti in their domains, because he knew of how pressuring and adamant they can be on their desperation. And the inability to grant them divine blessings gnaws at you at each rejection you had to offer.
He has a special connection to your Domain too in the sense that he is hyperaware of those that enter and leave your area. When he senses intrusive humans entering, he would be by your side immediately to confront them if they so wish to be stubborn under his presence. Most of the time you had to calm him down yourself, because not a lot of humans that dare look for you understood the connection between you two.
In all honesty, barely anyone knows the nature of your connection with Xiao besides those that are extremely to you two.
With the war long gone and Osial's dark manifestations temporarily ceased, both of your work were cut significantly. Your nightmares had stopped half a thousand years after the leave of the last Yaksha, but you know well that Xiao now had to fight with internal demons he himself cannot escape.
Whenever he was on the verge of breaking, he immediately comes to you and drops into your arms without a second thought, your energy and comforting touches enough to pull the binds away from his soul. And it is only there that Xiao would fall into a very rare slumber that you dare not disturb.
Unlike what many others would think, Xiao's love language comes in the form of physical touches. This could be because of your background together that had gone eons ago even before the great scarcity of Yakshas. He feels safer and more composed when your presence washes over him, and whenever you hold his hand, instead of stains of bloody wars it was washed away by your gentle grip.
He feels very clean and pure when with you, melting at every soft touch you offer and gravitating to your fleeting hand before he knew what he was doing. In your domain Xiao is the most vulnerable and honest. His guard is gone and his arms are uncrossed, it only intertwines when it surrounds itself around your form.
He spoke of the flute that saved him once, by the Anemo Archon. And upon this knowledge the two of you started divulging into the art of the wind instrument, finding that it does indeed have a grounding effect on him. Upon your urges, Xiao ended mastering the skill and honing it whenever he needs it. This doesn't mean his trips to you lessened, but his visitations would be accompanied by the tunes of his flute to grace you with the performance as a thank you for accommodating him.
Surprisingly (yet also not) between the two of you, Xiao has a better grasp on the standard of romances because of his exposure to the mortal realm, and he guides and experiments with the bases under your consent together. Soon enough his keen eyes had come into fruition upon your both masteries on passing up as a true couple in human standards.
To demonstrate this, you both had a date with your illuminated garments reduced to the simplest form of casual wear local to Liyue. Which you then used to stroll around the Harbour without being static on an area for too long. You met Madame Ping and Ganyu on the road, and they both wished you luck on your leisure after catching up.
While you are content with the way things are until your prolonged mortality finally lets you rest, Xiao had been thinking about traveling Teyvat to see the beauty of it alongside you. The Traveler had been very successful in influencing him lately, and soon enough he shall offer the question.
It is then that you are to decide on your next course of actions, which would ultimately advance your relationship.
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Honestly almost went overboard again on this. I was honestly very tempted to sleep but I got scared Xiao might really just not come *cries* I'm about to whale at this point.,,
@kookieyachi @struggljng @bunniesrorange @anormalguyreader @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @lilydewi22 @yellowflowre @traveler-lumine @nonniechan
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Note
Do you think you’ll continue with the lawyer Nessian fic. It was so amazingly written I’d love to read more! I love all your writing anyways I’ll be happy with anything❤️
Ok not *technically* a Drabble request BUT I’m not ready to commit to a full lawyer AU that happens in order however I did just drum up a part 2 that we’ll say is several years before the previous lawyer AU. Nessian teasing in a bar and Rhys being a dumbass.
FYI the lawyer Drabble I’m talking about can be found HERE.
“I’m in love,” Rhys slurred. Cassian, a decent bit bigger than his brother and two drinks behind him, had a gentle buzz so he could only surmise that his brother was well passed sober.
“Congratulations,” Cassian grinned, clapping his hand on Rhys’ shoulder. “May I lay eyes upon the future Mrs. Dumbass.”
Rhys stared at him flatly. Blew a laugh out of his nose. “She’s not marrying you, brother.”
Cassian snorted, casting his eyes around the elegantly decorated little lounge they’d stepped into for the night. Lounge, not bar. Because they were mature adults now looking to take the edge off after a long day of work, not college students looking to get fucked up.
It was different.
It was different because the cocktails cost $20 and were served in actual stemware instead of red solo cups. They were evolving. Growing. Cassian was a lawyer now and Rhys was supposed to be doing actual work for his dad’s company so… no more dive bars.
Now they frequented little lounges where accountants and lawyers and bankers sat in tailored suits and discussed… adult things.
It was all very civilized.
And yet here was his brother. Every bit the horny college student they were trying not to be. Oh well, old dogs and all that.
“End of the bar.” Rhys jerked his head to the left and Cassian grinned.
“Might be a little old for you, champ.”
Rhys wrinkled his brow and turned to look at the grandmother doing a crossword puzzle on the far left side of the bar. A martini glass in front of her. Good for grandma.
“Other end of the bar!”
Cassian smirked. He didn’t need to turn his head, since he’s noticed her the second she walked in, but he still did. Just so he could look some more.
“Ah, you mean the deliciously dishevelled leggy brunette with her suit jacket on the chair beside her who just ripped the pins out of her hair like they personally offended her and then laid them in a neat little pile beside her Kobo?
“Mmm,” Rhys grinned, “I’d like her to rip those fingers through my hair.”
Cassian rolled his eyes. “Go for it, brother.”
Rhys grinned wider. “I think I will.” He straightened up, ran a hair through his artfully mussed hair, and pulled on the lapels of his Gucci suit jacket until they were even again.
Cassian snickered into his Old Fashioned. Rhys could straighten his jacket all he wanted. He could pretend he wasn’t drunk all he wanted. It wouldn’t matter one bit.
Not with Nesta Archeron.
Nesta Archeron who hated men that stunk of trust funds and privilege more than anything else in this world.
This would be fun to watch.
Watch her try to ignore him at first. Eyes glued to the page of her book, hand reaching up to wave through the air like Rhys was an annoying fly she could swat away.
Rhys, to his credit, was a clever little bastard. He asked the bartender for a refill of her drink and set it down in front of her then sat himself one stool down from her.
He didn’t move her jacket to sit next to her, which would have had her going feral. He just sat there, waiting.
After a few moments Nesta let out an exacerbated sigh that Cassian could hear from across the room. There was his girl.
Well, not his girl. Not even a little bit his girl, but… someday.
Cassian decided that he was going to Marry Nesta Archeron the first time she kicked his ass up and down a negotiation meeting. It was a couple years ago now. He’d been young and new at his firm. She was young and new too, but the words learning curve were not in Nesta’s vocabulary. Everything she did, she did with perfection.
Including getting rid of men she didn’t want hitting on her.
She said something to his brother that made Rhys’ half drunk, cocky, smile fall halfway down his face.
Cassian would’ve given his left eye to know what she said in that moment. She had a knack for jumping at the jugular and Rhys… oh Rhys. So obvious.
After a few moments and the continual fall of Rhys’ face, Cassian decided it was time to intervene. He knocked his drink back and straightened out his own suit jacket. Armani, still overpriced and designer but not so obvious or try hard as Mr. Up On The Trends with his Gucci. Nesta appreciated classics.
Simple. Clean lines, solid colours, classic. Which was why it was so fun just how attracted she was to his half wild self.
Unlike Rhys, Cassian plucked Nesta’s light grey suit jacket up off the stool beside her and reached over her head to hang it on a coat hook at the end of the bar. Settling himself into the chair beside her like it was exactly where he belonged. Which it was.
She turned around with an indignant shriek and a fire-breathing snarl that narrowed into just a hard glare when she realized it was him. Touching.
“This guy giving you trouble, Nes?”
Rhys choked on his whiskey and Cassian fought his hardest to keep a straight face.
“I so don’t need your saviour complex right now, Cassian.” Nesta scoffed.
“No,” Rhys rolled his eyes. “She was doing perfectly well scaring off everyone in a 10 mile radius all on her own.”
Nesta smiled sweetly, “I was just playing your game.”
Rhys sputtered again. Looked up at his brother. “This devil woman that you apparently already know,” he glared, “is all yours. I’m going home.”
“Be sure to drink plenty of water!” Nesta sing songed after him. Rhys flipped them both off on his way out.
“What’d you say to him?”
Nesta smiled. A pretty, feline little thing. “He said he wanted to chat. Suggested 20 question, which is the lamest, oldest, crustiest line in the book. So I went first. Asked just how small his dick was that he felt the need to overcompensate with the swagger and the gratuitous displays of wealth. He thought he was quite clever to use his question to ask if I wanted to check for myself how not small his dick was and then I asked if his daddy never loved him and that’s where all of that machismo masking painfully obvious and deep seeded feelings of inadequacy and insecurity came from. I was going to offer him my friend’s number before you showed up. She’s an excellent therapist.”
Cassian laughed. Hard. For a very long time. He loved Rhys, but sometimes the kid could use a nice set down. It was always sweeter when delivered by a beautiful woman. Not to mention, Cassian himself had gotten the same ice cold rejection the first time he met Nesta. When he asked if she wanted to get a coffee and she looked at him like something she’d scraped off the bottom of her shoe. That Rhys was chased off so easily just proved he couldn’t take the heat.
“You know the walking trust fund, I presume?” Nesta boredly sipped the drink Rhys had bought her. And even that was somehow amusing.
“Only for the last couple decades or so,” Cassian grinned. “He’s like a brother to me.”
“Explains a lot.”
“Your insults are more impactful when you clarify which person is being insulted.”
“I was going for the two birds one stone method.”
“In that case, consider me wounded, sweetheart.”
Nesta scoffed, “Unfortunately not mortally.”
“Oh Nesta, if I weren’t here you’d die of boredom and you know it. No one else can run you up and down the courtroom like I can.” Now. Cassian grinned as he watched the word flash across her eyes. He’d never live that first blunder down.
Nesta rose an eyebrow. “Bold of you to assume you present any challenge whatsoever.”
Cassian signalled for another drink and leaned forward. “Alright, I’ll bite. Who in this entire city can give you more of a run for your money?”
“Vanserra.” Nesta looked him dead in the eye. And managed to keep a straight face. As if that wasn’t the funniest fucking thing he’d heard all day.
“Oh yes, Nepotism and Nepotism LLP certainly has us all shaking in our boots,” Cassian blew out a breath. “What are you working on now?”
“I’m working on upholding attorney-client privilege.”
“So, the Suncurser merger.”
Nesta looked up. “How did you-”
“Helion and I are old friends. I checked the zoning on the lots he was buying before the merger went ahead to make sure the expansion was even feasible. But, as you know, M&A isn’t my thing. So I may have… given him a referral.”
“Are there any rich playboys in this city that you aren’t friends with?” Nesta finished off her drink and pointedly didn’t signal for another. “And if you think I’m going to be grateful to you for sending this my way you’ve got another thing-“
“Helion is my friend.” Cassian repeated, cutting her off. “He believes in this merger and he wants it done right. You’re the best, Nesta. Why wouldn’t I send him to you?”
“It’s not just to get in my pants?” She narrowed her eyes.
Cassian laughed again. “Oh no, sweetheart. When you invite me into your bed it will have nothing to do with work. It’ll be because you’re tired of denying how much you want me.” Cassian leaned in closer, one hand resting on the back of her chair. “Tired of denying the thrill that shoots through your whole body when we lay into each other. In the court room or out.” His nose brushed against hers, just a little, and Cassian felt Nesta tense up. He smirked, mouth just inches away from hers. “Tired of denying how right this is.”
Nesta’s voice was rough, husky. “So your plan is to wear me down?”
Cassian smirked. “My plan,” his hand came up to stroke the silk covered expanse of her upper arm, “is to marry you, Nesta Archeron. But sure, we can start with wearing you down.”
***Feyre and Nesta look physically similar so you can’t tell me drunk Rhys wouldn’t hit on Nesta in a bar before realizing he’d made a terrible mistake and running away thank you***
Also tags yourself, I’m the grandma doing the crossword puzzle with a martini. She’s an icon and she is the moment.
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Text
Into The Unknown, Part 7
First
Previous
Sorry the chapter is late my schedule got thrown off by a hurricane
Three days after they arrived in Gotham, they officially ran out of cash.
Honestly, it was a wonder they had even lasted as long as they had. Who knew that rich kids had so much money just laying around? Certainly not her, if she had she probably would have reconsidered rejecting Adrien’s old offers to date to make their fans shut up... because damn.
Now, they sat outside Drake Manor.
Marinette sat, back resting against the gate, playing a game with the baby. In an effort to soothe the kid’s need to fall from high places, she had tossed him a foot in the air and then caught him. Unfortunately, this didn’t seem to help, but it did entertain Damian. He giggled like a madman (mad...baby?) every time she did it and would yell ‘up!’ every time she tried to stop. Her arms were tired. She’d been doing this for what felt like years, and would be doing it for many years to come. Save her.
The only person that could possibly save her was, unfortunately, busy with other things.
Tim was applying for credit cards. He had stuck his computer and phone through the gate to get their wifi so the company wouldn’t be suspicious (Marinette said they probably wouldn’t be but the king of paranoia had insisted) and was now pressed up against it as far as he possibly could, arms poking through the bars to keep working.
“This is only until we have enough money to get on our feet,” Tim said.
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Tim, I know.”
He nodded a little against the bars that were pressing against his face and allowed the subject to drop -- for now, Marinette knew it was only a matter of time before he said it again.
“At least one of us needs a job at WE, that’s the only way both of us would be able to send the kid to daycare.”
Marinette stopped tossing Damian, considering, only to immediately start up again when the baby screamed “UP!” at her.
“Probably me,” she said, finally. “The you that lives here is a direct competitor, you might get recognized.”
He nodded his agreement.
And then she sighed and set Damian in her lap because her arms were physically unable to lift him anymore. Damian screamed at her but she just wrapped her arms around him tightly and pet his hair until he relaxed.
When he finally shut up, she said: “You know we’re going to have to wait for both of us to get a job.”
He paused in his typing. “What do you mean?”
“Since it’s WE, they probably have pretty thorough background checks. Two adults that seemingly have lived here their entire lives getting a job at pretty much the exact same time is… more than a little suspicious.”
He pulled his head back from the gate and she wondered idly if he was finally done, but then he just knocked his forehead against the bars. There was a resounding clang that neither of them minded, all of this world’s Drakes were currently at work, and he groaned.
“Yeah, that kind of screams ‘we’re using fake identities’, doesn’t it?”
“Kinda, yeah.”
He groaned again, louder this time.
“I can stay at home,” she offered, somewhat reluctantly. “I can cook.”
He sighed and shook his head as much as the gate would allow. “No. You’re probably going to have an easier time getting a job, WE accepts basically everyone. We need money, so I’ll be a stay-at-home dad.”
Oh.
She smiled a little and looked down at Damian, who was currently petting her hair like she had been petting his just a few moments before. She blinked but reciprocated the action. Damian lit up and reached his hands up so he could get more of her hair.
She leaned down a little and nuzzled her nose against Damian’s.
She glanced up and saw Tim checking over what he had done so far, apparently thinking the conversation over.
Marinette hesitated. If she really wanted, she could just let the conversation drop.
She mumbled a quiet: “... thanks, Tim.”
He didn’t look up from his screen, but she could see the pink tinge in his ears. “It’s fine. I don’t even know what I’d do yet. I’ve only ever had one job and I got it because of nepotism.”
She grinned. “From rich kid to even richer CEO to trophy husband.”
“Oh, how the mighty hath fallen.”
She felt a hand tug her hair and looked down to see Damian pouting, so she started running her fingers through his hair. It was getting kind of long, she wondered if she should get it cut. She didn’t want it to get caught on something, the kid could get hurt.
A thought occurred to her. She glanced at Tim out of the corner of her eyes. “You know… you’re taking my name and I’m going to be the one getting money… maybe you should grow out your hair and I’ll cut mine. Y’know, to really get into our roles.”
He huffed a little. “Shut up.”
She laughed. “Fine. But, really, I think you should grow your hair out. It’d be pretty.”
The both of them tensed at the implications of what she had said. She wondered if she could play it off as a joke… or maybe she should apologize? The blush that had tinged his ears was now creeping down his neck. Was he embarrassed or flustered or angry?
Before she could figure out what to do, Tim’s phone rang.
He fumbled for the phone and pressed it to his ear, successfully hiding the rest of his face from her view.
“Hello?... yes, this is Timothy Drake… yes, I just applied for a new card… I figured I would have a backup in case one of my others got stolen, you know how it is… can I have the card information in advance?... great, thank you!”
He hung up and turned to her, smiling widely.
“We have money.”
She didn’t react how he expected, no playful grin or witty remark or even just a smile. Instead, she doubled over with laughter. Damian whined a little in protest as she threatened to squish him.
He frowned confusedly. “What?”
She motioned vaguely to his face, giggles still spilling from her lips. “It’s just… you’ve been leaning against the gate for so long that it’s made little lines in your face.”
He huffed. “It’s not that funny.”
She managed to get her breathing under control again. “It’s a little funny.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
She opened her mouth to continue the dumb little argument they were having but then Damian yelled: “NO!”
Tim lit up. “HA. He agrees with me.”
She gasped. “Dami, how could you? You’re supposed to be on my side,” she said with an over exaggerated pout.
Damian looked up at her pout for a moment before slowly leaning forward and attempting to wrap his arms around her middle in a hug.
“Oh,” she said softly, carding her fingers through his hair a few times. “Okay, I forgive you.”
“Weak,” Tim teased.
She looked over to send him a glare, but then she saw the fond smile on his face and relaxed.
“I am. Look at him. He’s so cute.”
“Yeah. He is.”
~
Tim leaned back against the bed frame.
Marinette was out at a job interview for WE. He hoped she got it, he didn’t know what they’d do if she didn’t.
But, he didn’t really have much time to think about that. He was on baby duty.
He’d gotten better at dealing with Damian while doing things, it seemed. He had found a position to sit where one knee was pulled to his chest and the other curled close to him, his legs acting as a chair for the kid. One hand held the kid’s bottle as he drank, and the other scrolled through apartment options on his phone.
They’d probably be in an apartment for at least a while. He didn’t know how homeownership was in this new version of Gotham, but in the old one if you were able to afford a house on your own then you were an immediate target for thieves.
So: apartments.
They could probably get away with a one-roomer, at least while Damian was young. It wasn’t like they needed much room for him, anyway, they might even get rid of the crib since it didn’t look like either of them had the willpower to leave the kid in it all night.
Damian slapped the bottle away, apparently done despite only having drank… all of it. Huh, he must have been more out of it than he’d thought.
He turned off his phone and looked down at the baby. Damian looked back up at him, giving that wide-eyed stare babies were so fond of.
Tim cracked, a smile making its way across his face. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of his little brother’s head.
“So, kiddo, what do you want to do?”
Damian babbled at him in an authoritative tone. Tim nodded thoughtfully, as if he understood him and was truly considering the idea of whatever it was he said.
“Interesting idea. I think we should watch TV. Sound good?”
Damian nodded, though Tim really doubted that he had somehow managed to say the exact thing that he had.
He pulled the remote out of the bedside drawer and started flipping through channels, looking for something that was bright and colorful enough for Damian to enjoy it but at least semi-decent so Tim wouldn’t be bored out of his mind.
He came upon Monsters LLC and turned it on. While Tim agreed that, considering the way that Mr. Firenoose acted, the company would totally be an LLC, it just didn’t have the same ring to it as Monsters Inc. So sad. The kids of this world were missing out.
At least Damian seemed to be enjoying it. He gasped and pointed at this world’s version of Sully and yelled “KITTY!”
Before Tim could correct him, though, the knockoff Boo said the same thing.
Great. Well. He supposed the kid was close enough. At least there were no monsters in this world for Damian to mistake for cats. It wouldn’t come back to bite them. Probably.
And, so, that’s how the day went. Tim and Damian sat in bed, Damian leaning back against Tim’s chest and watching his movie, a new bottle of milk half in his mouth. Tim scrolled through apartment options on his phone, picking out a few to check out over the next few days.
After a while, Marinette slipped in. She kicked her shoes off, letting them fly in opposite directions, and then trudged across the room.
She dropped onto the bed face down beside the two boys and Tim frowned.
“I’m guessing that means it didn’t go well?”
“No, I got the job,” she said, her voice muffled. “They said I could start tomorrow if I wanted.”
“... then…?”
She slowly picked her head up. She looked absolutely exhausted. “I’m an intern.”
… yikes.
He hesitantly reached a hand out and patted her head a few times.
She rolled her eyes and pulled a pillow to herself so she could scream into it.
Damian looked away from the movie, eyes wide, and then looked at Tim like he would somehow know how to fix it.
… he probably was supposed to. He was the adult here and, supposedly, married to her.
But Tim was a bat. So, he pulled a classic bat move:
“Want to spar?”
“... kinda,” she admitted. “But what about Damian?”
Damian was currently entranced by a movie about… was that unicorn eating trash?
It didn’t matter. (It totally did. What the fuck was going on in this movie?)
Tim smiled. “I’m sure that Kaalki and Tikki can warn us if something is going to happen. Not that it looks like anything will.”
Marinette hesitated before breaking into a smile. “Okay, let’s do it. I’ve been feeling a little antsy.”
He gently picked up Damian and set him on the bed, telling the kwamis to keep him safe for the maybe ten minutes they would be distracted, and then led Marinette a few feet away so they could let out a little bit of their excess energy.
~~~~~
Next
@nathleigh @peachmuses @unoriginalmess @hammalammadamdam @astrynyx @laurcad123 @927roses-and-stuff
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Hi Steph! Would you happen to have any fic recs that involve John meeting the Holmes family? I always think that's such an interesting dynamic to see! Also, I think this goes without saying but I love your blog and appreciate your contributions to the fandom! Thanks!
Hey Nonny!
Ah, thank you! I’m glad you enjoy my blog!
Oooo! Yes, I love that dynamic too!! ANNNNND!!! You’re giving me the chance to make a part 2 for a REALLY OLD LIST!!! So YAY!!! I found a bunch on a text doc I haven’t posted yet, so HERE WE GO! Hope you enjoy, and as always, everyone please add your own!
PARENTS AND FAMILIES Pt. 2
See also: 
Parents & Family
Meeting the Family With a Fake Relationship
Do You Love Me? by whitchry9 (K, 641 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Family, Epic Bromance) – John asks Sherlock perhaps the most important question.
Once Upon A Time by ProfessorSquirrell (T, 908 w., 1 Ch. || Family, Snippets of Life, Romance, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Implied Drug Use, Angst with Happy Ending) – There is a room in Sherlock's mind palace where nothing gets deleted. And it looks like this...
Crisis Averted by Spartangal22 (T, 2,188 w., 1 Ch. || HLV Fic, Missing Scene After Confronting Mary, Canon Compliant, Sherlock Whump / Mary Shot Sherlock, Family / Friendship, Hospitalization, Sherlock POV, Holmes Brothers) – Lying in the hospital, Sherlock receives some surprising visitors, and manages to deal with two problems he's been having lately. A missing scene from HLV about a formal introduction that was never made and a visit that was never shown.
The Only Available Transportation by blueink3 (T, 5,379 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Fluff and Angst, Insecure Sherlock, Caring John, Parentlock, Sherlock’s Birthday, Family, Misunderstandings) – It’s possibly the desperation that’s seeped into his voice despite his best intentions, or perhaps it’s just a mother’s intuition, but she knows that whatever he’s calling about is Serious, hangover be damned. “What’s happened?” she asks, tone soft and as comforting as a hot cup of tea on a cold winter’s night. “Mummy,” he begins, voice catching. “I think John may be moving out.”
On the Steadfast Approach of an Oncoming Darkness by 2bee (T, 7,772 w., 1 Ch. || Apocalypse, Minor Character Death, Sort of Parentlock) – The world is ending. Not fast, but slowly, like falling asleep with a fever.
The Name Game by ItsClydeBitches221B (K, 8,958 w., 1 Ch. || Humour, Family, Platonics / Friendship, Sort-of Parentlock, John/Mary, Mary is Nice, Five and Ones, Baby Watson, Mycroft Loves Baby Watson) – The names that baby girl Watson comes up with for her extended family. Or: how everyone—Watsons, Holmes, and others alike— just learned to give up and embrace their weirdness.
The Burning of the Leaves by blueink3 (M, 15,915 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Angst, Reichenbach, Parentlock, Past Jolto, Idiot John, Sherlock’s a Mess, Puppies, Fluff, Possessive / Jealous Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, Matchmaker Sholto, Melancholic Feelings, Emotional Sherlock, Domesticity, Love Confessions in the Rain, Kissing in the Rain, Pet Names) – After the events of series 4, Major Sholto invites John and Sherlock to lunch one day. It nearly proves to be too much for their tenuous relationship as the past haunts the present, putting the future that Sherlock so desperately wants at risk.
Permanent Fixture by vitruvianwatson (E, 18,836 w., 9 Ch. || Post-S4, Parentlock, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers, They’re Good Parents, Blushing Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Explicit Consent, Sexual Content, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Big Feelings, Crying, First Kiss, Fluff, Anxious Sherlock, Inexperienced Sherlock, Emotional Communication, Love Confessions) – Now, as Rosie sat curled up against Sherlock’s side, John watched and wondered exactly how he had ended up here. Domesticity had never suited him before, not at any point in his life. His disastrous marriage had been proof of that. But somehow, here in the warmth and safety of 221B Baker Street, here with Sherlock Holmes reading medical jargon to his daughter, Sherlock’s bony feet nudging against his leg, John couldn’t imagine anyplace that would make him happier.
Dropping the Act by jadztone (T, 27,258 w., 10 Ch. || Parentlock, Fake Relationship, Mary’s Family, Post-S4, Cuddling & Snuggling, Bed Sharing, Pining, Christmas) – Sherlock and John are quite happy living together with Rosie in Baker St. They might be even happier if they didn’t act towards each other like their love is only platonic. Mycroft brings troubling news in the form of Mary’s parents wanting to know just what their grandchild’s home life is like. The boys decide to spend Christmas pretending like they are in love in order to seem more like a "normal" family. It's easy enough to pretend when all you're doing is dropping the act.
An Acquired Taste by kinklock (E, 31,059 w., 4 Ch. || Vampires AU || Vampire Sherlock, Misunderstandings, Bat!Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Humour, Magical Realism, Fluff and Angst, Blood Drinking, Holmes Family, Slow Burn) – At Montague Street when Sherlock was forced to sate his body’s needs, he was at least able to wander about the flat as much as he pleased. At Baker Street, it was mini-bags in a mini-fridge and bedroom confinement.
Chaperones by MissDavis (T, 34,114 w., 7 Ch. || 11 Years Post-S4, Fake Relationship, Parentlock, Disney World, Bed / Room Sharing, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, First Kiss, Obsessive Sherlock, Insecure John) – Right. Of course. Everyone assumed they were a couple and no one would question it. John put his elbows up on the table so he could rest his head in his hands. "You want to pretend to be a couple so we can chaperone a trip to Disney World with Rosie's class and you won't have to share a room with a stranger?" "Exactly." Sherlock beamed at him. "Don't worry about the cost. The Birmingham case last month paid more than enough to cover expenses for all three of us."
Where The Ghosts Have Voices by HappyJuicyfruit (M, 37,691 w., 12 Ch. || Supernatural AU || Ghosts, Magical Realism, Light Horror, Fluff and Smut, John Can See Ghosts, John Whump, Emotional Manipulation, Dark Magic, Coma, Injury Recovery, Blow Jobs, Anal, Happy Ending, John’s Past, Mr Holmes, Powerful John, Holmes Brothers, Sherlock’s Past, Past Viclock, Drug Abuse, Hair Pulling) – John has lived his whole life as an outcast. It is only when he meets Sherlock, that be realizes being a freak might not be such a bad thing, and that the curse he has lived with his whole life may be a gift after all. (TO READ)
Anchor Point by trickybonmot (E, 49,856 w., 80 Ch. || Truman Show AU || Psychological Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Dark Characters / Fic, Alternating First/Third Person, Protective John, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Tender Moments, Love Confessions, Hand/Blow Jobs, Cuddling, Jealous John, First Kiss/Time) – The world tunes in nightly for Sherlock, the ultimate in reality TV: Sherlock Holmes, a real person with a legendary name, unknowingly lives out his life in a staged setting contrived by his brother. Things get complicated when a retired army doctor joins the show to play the part of Sherlock's closest friend. This fic borrows its concept from the 1998 film, the Truman Show. However, you don't need to have any knowledge of the movie to enjoy this story.
The Hollow Woman by ScopesMonkey (M, 51,335 w., 22 Ch. || Post-TRF, Major Character Death, Mystery, Romance, Friendship, Family, Angst, Crime, Reunion, First Kiss / Time, Nightmares, Doctor John, Jealous Sherlock, Jealous John, BAMF John, Angry John, Dub-Con, Rough Sex, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Villain Mary, Open Ending) – Forced to return to London sooner than expected, Sherlock falls into a case too close to home. Part 1 of the Hollowverse series
Repairing the Broken Things by BakerTumblings (M, 75,252 w., 15 Ch. || S4 Compliant, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Trauma, Hospitals, Big Brother Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Realizations, Severe Accident, John Whump, Pneumonia, Medical Procedures, Bed Sharing, First Time, Healing, Happy Ending) – "I'm calling today to notify you that there's been an accident."
Points by lifeonmars (E, 53,791 w., 42 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || HLV Rewrite / Canon Divergence, Married Life, Pregnancy / Baby Watson, Drinking to Cope, Boxing / Fisticuffs, Clueless John, Angst, Minor Medical Drama, Tattoos, Christmas, First Kiss/Time, Eventual Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Doctor John, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, Case Fic, Drugging, Blow/Hand Job, Emotional Love Making, Parenthood, Passage of Time) – What if His Last Vow never happened? This fic picks up a few months after John and Mary's wedding, in an alternate universe where Magnussen doesn't exist, but Mary is still pregnant. Life continues -- just in a different direction. And slowly, Sherlock and John find their way to each other.
The Monument of Memory by J_Baillier (M, 79,663 w., 14 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It Fic / S4 is Canon, Angst, Family Drama, Guilt, Case Fic, John Loves Sherlock, Complicated Feelings, Mentalism / Hypnosis, Murder, Grieving John, Sherlock is a Bit Not Good, Team Work, Trust Issues, BAMF John, Psychological Trauma, Protective John, Autistic-Spectrum Sherlock, Parentlock, John POV) –  A genius traumatised by a past he's only beginning to recall. The psychopath sister that time forgot. A missing woman and a mentalist who may or may not be a murderer. And, in the middle of it all, stands John Watson.
Kintsukuroi by sussexbound (E, 91,823 w., 20 Ch. || S4 Compliant / Post-TLD, Grief / Mourning, PTSD, Internalized Homophobia, Therapy, Past Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Anxiety, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Suicidal Ideation, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Sexting, Frottage, Inexperienced Sherlock, Rimming / Anal / BJ’s, Emotional Turmoil, Finding Each Other) – “I love you.” Sherlock sees the words hit John with almost physical force. He reels back a little, jaw twitching and eyes filling. “I love you,” he repeats, a little softer, a little more gentle, as earnest as he possibly can. Because they’ve been teetering on the brink of this thing for years, and it had become painfully obvious over the last few months that they were at a tipping point. This had to happen. Now it has. Now they can see where they end up. The tears in John’s eyes spill over, and he wipes at them angrily. “Do you even know what that means?”  
The Summer Boy by khorazir (T, 94,706 w., 6 Ch. || Post S3/Post TAB/Alternate S4, Friends to Lovers, Asexual Sherlock, POV Sherlock, Flashbacks, Bullying, 1980′s Kid Sherlock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Inexperienced Sherlock, Grief/Mourning, Pining Sherlock, Case Fic, Sherlock’s Past, Awkward Conversations, Anxious Sherlock) – About half a year after the fateful events at Appledore, Sherlock and John embark on a private case in Sussex. For Sherlock, it’s a journey into his past, bringing up memories both happy and sad that he has locked away for almost thirty years. For John, it means coming to terms with the present – and a potential future with Sherlock. Part 1 of the The Summer Boy series
The Wedding Garments by cwb (E, 105,390 w., 36 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Alternate Future AU || Alternate First Meeting, Dating / Arranged Marriages, Romance, First Kiss/Time, Heavy Petting, Cuddles, POV Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn / Falling in Love / Dev. Rel., Nervous/Anxious Sherlock, Jealous/Cranky, Hiking, Vacation Homes / Honeymoon, Sherlock’s Family, Horny John/Sherlock, Patient John, Massages, Hand Jobs, Assassination Plots, Hand Jobs / Oral Sex, Case Fic, Emotional Love Making, Bath Time Fun) – This is the story of a young consulting detective who wants nothing to do with marriage and an army doctor who wants to find true love. It's 2020 post-Brexit England and the British government is encouraging arranged marriages. Candidates meet through state-run agencies and date in hopes of finding love (and tax benefits). Sherlock doesn't need or want a spouse, at least not until John Watson shows up. Hesitant to give in to his more carnal urges because of the way they derail his mind, how will Sherlock progress toward the more intimate aspects of a relationship? The answer lies in a very special wedding gift.
The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w., 37 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel., Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it's a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball
The Lost Special: Family Matters (As Do Relationships) by ShirleyCarlton  (M, 144,688 w., 40 Ch. || S4 Fix It Fic, Unreliable Narrator, John’s Mind Bungalow, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending) – Sherrinford is not really the name of some high security prison. That was just a figment of John’s frantic coma dream. And Eurus is not actually Sherlock’s sister. That’s just something random she said to John before shooting him. Sherlock and John were never actually estranged. That was just their act to cover up what really happened to Mary – or Rosamund Moran, as her real name has turned out to be. Sherlock does have a secret sibling, though, and his name is Sherrinford. After finally eliminating Moran – though in a rather dramatically different way than they had envisioned – and exposing the truth about Eurus, John encourages Sherlock to delve into his past and to find out whether the reasons to keep Sherrinford away from Sherlock were the right ones, and to discover what really happened in 1981. Along the way, Sherlock and John gradually, finally, stop keeping each other at a distance, and eventually become a proper family of their own.
Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.
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What if Bella had met the Volturi's as a child? What would it change and what ties do you think it would have?
It’d change a fair amount, as in, the entire plot of Twilight would have been derailed. Or, that is, it might change nothing at all.
So, we have three options here. 
Nothing Changes
Bella is an extraordinarily delicious child visiting Italy and the small medieval town of Volterra.
If Bella doesn’t happen to be on the tour, probably whoever’s looking at her sighs, looks longingly at her delicious blood, and then walks away. The Volturi do not lose control in their own city.
Bella goes on her merry way and Twilight presumably happens. Except maybe Bella goes to Alice, “Oh yeah, Volterra, I went there once. Nifty place, nice buildings.” Alice stares.
Bella’s Eaten
Bella’s an extraordinarily delicious child whose mother thinks it’s a great idea to sign them up for the tour of Volterra castle. It’s a very exclusive tour you know! Bella’s eaten almost immediately, she’s probably fought over, Jane gets one limb and Alec gets another.
Years later, Edward arrives in Forks, his personal purgatory where he listens to the banal thoughts of teenagers. Bella Swan does not arrive. Edward continues to be miserable and depressed.
The Cullens have a game of baseball with James, Laurent, and Victoria. Unfortunately, James recognizes Alice, and is intrigued enough to come after her. Unfortunately, Alice is a vampire and not a human with human relatives to hold hostage. The Cullens murder him, Laurent flees to have sex with the sexy Denali ladies, and Victoria swears vengeance upon Jasper.
Unfortunately, her gift tells her that any attempt to murder Jasper will end up with her dead. Jasper doesn’t give her the time needed to plan. He hunts her down and murders her in cold blood.
Carlisle has the world’s worst weekend. 
Edward is still depressed and concludes this is why vampires are abominations without souls. Irina gets to keep her boyfriend, he cheats on the diet and leaves within the year. Irina drowns herself in rebound sex with pretty mortals to try and feel better abou tbeing dumped. It doesn’t work.
Aro Discovers Bella
And this is probably the route you were thinking of.
Perhaps Aro’s taking a midnight stroll with Renata, perhaps he catches Bella on the tour, but somehow he manages to meet her and happens to brush her hand. Suddenly, eating Bella is off the table forever.
Bella’s gift isn’t game changing in the way Alec and Jane’s were, necessarily, but it is something Aro does not want falling into enemy hands and something he may one day need.
He’d probably do something similar to what he intended to do with Alec and Jane. He’d leave her to live her mortal life, keep close tabs on her, and turn her when she’s a young adult (probably around twenty).
Which means Bella returns to America, probably tailed by Demetri, and has no awareness that she is at some poing going to become an immortral blood drinking creature and move to Italy to become a member of an ancient vampire sect.
Bella moves to Forks, she has a run in with Edward Cullen who very nearly eats her, Demetri calls Aro to say “we have a problem”. At first, Aro isn’t too concerned, he’s delighted to hear that Carlisle’s alive and well and my god he has a coven now. Given Edward is Carlisle’s progeny, Aro is probably sure Edward will leave the city completely to avoid temptation and the others will quickly move on.
Edward’s back within the week. He attends school. He sits within a foot of Bella Swan in Biology class.
Demetri at this point probably summons Bella out of school in the middle of Biology with no warning, gets her the hell away from Edward, and has to come up with the world’s most ridiculous lie of why she should never enter within 20 feet of Edward Cullen ever again.
Demetri is a federal agent and Edward is under suspicion of being a sexual predator and serial murderer. Here are all the women who have disappeared in various towns the Cullen family have lived in.
Bella is of course horrified and shocked, but given Edward’s reaction in that first Biology class and his weirdness in the second one... 
Aro calls Carlisle. It’s a very awkward talk. Carlisle apologizes for not writing in forever he got... distracted. Aro says it’s fine, no big, CARLISLE MISSED WATCHING THE MOON LANDING WITH HIM. But regardless, Aro is calling to ask him what the fuck.
Aro tells him about Bella, Carlisle is very uncomfortable with this girl having no choice but to become a vampire and no idea what’s going to happen to her, but there’s no talking Aro out of it. He’s even more uncomfortable that he has been begging Edward to skip town but, for some unknown reason that is perhaps pride, Edward is refusing. 
“All these worlds are yours,” Aro undoubtedly says, “Except Europa, attempt no landing there.”
In other words, hands off Isabella Swan.
Carlisle tells Edward. Edward is appalled and conflicted. At this point, he’s unwillingly fascinated by Bella but has not yet decided he’s in love. He doesn’t quite have her Carlisle persona crafted yet  and so she’s not the saintly figure deserving of worship. Right now she’s just this plain, boring, girl who dared to smell delicious.
So, a part of him thinks it serves her right. Now she will suffer for all eternity as he does. More, he can save face, the monster inside him can go back to sleep for her days are number and he can pretend he’s the wonderful person everyone thinks he is. Everything will remain as exactly as it is. EDWARD IS FINE, THIS IS FINE.
Another part of him panics. First, this girl is condemned to the worst future imaginable. Not only is she becoming a demon, but a blood drinking demon at Blood Drinking Demon HQ. More, if she becomes a vampire, no blood for Edward. And remember, this is a scent he would scour the world for. Edward salivates over the thought of her blood, obsesses over it constantly, and fantasizes over how he will devour her. Suddenly, Edward may not be able to eat her. In canon, the option of eating her is always on the table, and some part of Edward is always thinking about it, always leaving it open. Here, it’s soon to be gone.
Edward probably sneaks into her room at night to watch over her sleep. Telling himself he’s protecting her from meteors but also realizing that he’s there to test his own will power and ponder over the future in which he quietly eats her in the middle of the night. 
Now, this can go two ways
Bella wakes up, and that guy Demetri said is a sexual predator targeting her is IN HER BEDROOM LOOKING SCARY AS FUCK. Bella undoubtedly screams bloody murder and tries to hit Edward with something.
Edward panics at the noise and eats her. Then when Charlie comes running he eats Charlie Swan too. The house is an utter blood bath, Edward stands there in a daze knowing the monster inside him has won. He no longer looks anything like Carlisle Cullen (this is a thing Edward does).
Probably though, Demetri is there. Which means Edward has heard his thoughts from the beginning. While Edward has the overconfidence of Gilderoy Lockhart, and tells Bella things like the laws of physics not applying to his driving or that he could beat Jasper in a fight with both hands tied behind his back, usually when push comes to shove he knows where he stands. (He tries to fight Jane in Volterra, it doesn’t go well, and he acts very meek at being confronted by Jane, Felix, etc. When he fights Victoria, he doesn’t fight at all, but just blathers nonsense and it somehow works out for him.)
So, while Edward will tell Jasper later that he totally could have taken Demetri, he’s not going to try. 
So, instead, Demetri goes, “Hey buddy, looking for a midnight snack?” and Edward shuffles and petulantly asks, “Aren’t you looking for a midnight snack?!” Edward’s here to protect Bella, you see. Demetri just nods, of course, Edward’s here to protect Bella.
They stare at each other.
Neither leaves.
Eventually, Edward slinks away, feeling very disgusted with himself, angry and Demetri, and internally raging that he didn’t get to eat Bella.
Demetri calls Aro and notes that they’ve got to turn the girl. Demetri cannot watch her 24/7 and this boy is 100% going to eat her. Aro hops on a plane in record time, bringing Renata, and makes an awkward visit to both Carlisle and Bella.
Aro tells Bella the truth about Edward which is... a little different but also pretty scary, the truth about what’s going to happen to her and why it’s important, and anything else she wants to know.
I imagine Bella quietly and stoically accepts her fate. 
Edward doesn’t get to eat Bella Swan. He feels very conflicted about it and is filled with self-loathing that he’s conflicted about it. I imagine the Madonna complex he holds for Bella blossoms at this point, and he later comes to Italy with the intent to free her from the Volturi clutches.
This doesn’t work out. 
Knowing Edward, his attempts increase in desperation until, finally, he does something very illegal in an attempt to free her and make up for damning her to this life.
The Volturi are forced to execute Edward.
Carlisle gets yet another awkward, terrible, phone call from Aro.
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the-bau-quinjet · 4 years
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How could you do this babe?
In Breakable Heaven chapter one! Here we go!
Summary: Reader’s ready to celebrate her anniversary with her boyfriend, but things don’t go as planned. 
Warnings: Cheating, swearing, drunk people
Word Count: ~2100
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“…leave a message at the beep.”
You couldn’t help but be disappointed that he didn’t answer, but didn’t mind leaving a message. “Hey babe, I was able to close the bookstore early! I should be to yours in the next few minutes if you want to celebrate early. I know you like to have ample time to get ready, so I guess I just wanted to warn you. Anyway, I love you. See you soon.” You left the voicemail as you walked to your car. Tonight you are celebrating your three-year anniversary. You even changed into your brand new lingerie to surprise him, wearing a long coat to hide it in public. It felt a little bit wrong not wearing real clothes, but you were determined to make this the best anniversary celebration yet.
 The drive to his apartment was relatively uneventful. A light rain started about halfway through the five-minute drive. As you pull up to his apartment building, you notice the lights on in his room. “Good, he’s home” you think to yourself as you open the door, shuffling inside from the muggy DC weather. As you approach the apartment door, you can hear the soft music of the playlist you made last month featuring all of Taylor Swifts most romantic love songs. Your heart flutters as you think of the kind gesture. Of course, he would be thoughtful enough to put on music as you arrived at his apartment. Unlocking the door and untying your coat at the same time proved to more difficult than anticipated, but you managed to nudge the door open whispering “happy anniversary baby” in the sultriest tone you could.
 As you took in the rest of the apartment, your heart burst. There were roses everywhere. Candles lit a path to the bedroom. Maybe he did know how to be a romantic. Dropping your things on the counter and sliding your coat off the rest of the way, you tip toed into the bedroom to surprise him since he clearly did not get your message. The next sixty seconds felt as though time stopped. Or, more accurately, you froze and everything else in the world took on an impossible speed.
As you pushed open the bedroom door, three things caught your attention. First, you felt a surprising amount of resistant as you pushed the door over a bundle of clothes you didn’t recognize. Second, you heard the bed bouncing against the wall. Third, you saw streaks of auburn hair running through you’re boyfriend’s hands as he mercilessly pounded into a woman you didn’t recognize.
 Apparently, your entrance was too quiet for either of them to be interrupted. All you could manage was to slowly retreat into the living room, closing the door, but knocking into a side table.  You could hear them as they stopped moving, running to the door to investigate the noise. All you wanted was to get out of there though. Throwing your coat back over your lingerie, you grabbed your purse and keys, slamming the door shut. You didn’t even turn around when you heard him opening the door and calling your name. Whatever he had to say was not worth your time anymore.
 You couldn’t get the image of the two of them in bed together out of your head. You were feeling absolutely everything at once. You felt betrayed. You felt sad. A small part of you was actually glad you had a reason to end it. It had never felt like the kind of relationship that would move on. But still, you thought you were happy with him.
 But mostly, you were pissed. Rightfully so, but you had no idea where to go or what to do. Your blind adrenaline carried you to the car, and you wound up at a bar. You don’t even remember starting the car, much less driving, but you knew you needed something to drink. You ran inside, ordering tequila shots to drown the sadness, and sat at the bar. As you sat at the bar, contemplating your existence, a man walked up to sit next to you. You had your fair share of practice with this scenario. You had mastered the right mix “fuck off” and “sorry, I’m taken” to get men like this guy to back off with just a single look. But right now, all you could manage was a halfhearted grin that very clearly said “you do not want to deal with my emotional baggage right now.” It was all in the crazed look in your eyes, you were sure of it.
 Nobody else came up to you while you were there. You couldn’t help but think over the past three years with him for signs that he was unfaithful. You couldn’t come up with any, the cheating bastard. He must have been pretty good at hiding the secret phone calls and date nights. But then again, you had your own secrets. Not that they would have made him feel like you do right now.
 After sitting long enough to consume four shots of tequila, two vodka sodas, and one dark and stormy, reality set in. All you wanted was to curl up in a ball and scream. Or cry. You were obviously not returning to his apartment, but you couldn’t go back to your own either. There was too much there that reminded you of him. The idea of walking in there to see his sweatshirt on your couch made you feel sick. You were teetering on the edge of a full breakdown when the idea struck you. Penelope.
 Penelope Garcia is your best friend. You met her at a Doctor Who convention the same day you met he who must not be named. She was there with Kevin, but they broke up a while ago. The realization that you could go to Penny’s couldn’t have come at a better time. Ha. Penny. You only call her that when you’re drunk. She’ll know what to do. You opened your phone, barely able to call up the Lyft to take you to her apartment. It’s honestly shocking you didn’t fall asleep on the seven minute drive there. Whatever, all you needed now was to get inside and forget about him.
 After entering the building, you tried the elevator. Of course it was broken. It took you about thirty six minutes to hobble your way up two flights of stairs to Penny’s floor. With each step, you considered texting her to come get you, but you knew the second you saw her you would break down. You absolutely did not want to start sobbing on these stairs. Too many people could see you. Finally arriving to her door, you were exhausted. Mentally and physically drained. Knock knock knock “Penny?” Knock knock knock “Penny?” Knock knock knock “Penny?” you imitated the Big Bang Theory, knowing the small joke would make you smile, even if just for a second. When the door finally opened, you vaulted in for a hug, not even opening your eyes.
 As you squeezed Penny, you finally broke out into a fit of sobs. Whisper yelling, you told her as much of the story as you could remember. “Penny, thank god. I left wo-ork early to surprise Dr-Dr-Drew for our anniversary – hiccup – but he was having s-s-se-sex with someone else…” you let out a strangled sob, not noticing how stiff Penny felt in your embrace. You buried your head into her as you continued “So I got very drunk and came here. Was he cheating on me this whole time?” You asked as your tears turned back to rage. “I even went out and bought this stupid, uncomfortable underwear to surprise him” you shout as your coat had begun to fall open again. After what felt like an hour of crying, but in reality amounted to no more than 60 seconds, you finally noticed something was odd. Two things lead you to a simple conclusion that was somehow difficult to comprehend in your drunk state.
 First, Penny felt taller. Second, she was wearing converse. Upon noticing these two facts, your hands traveled up the body you were hugging until you found shoulders. Turning your head up, your eyes followed the path your hands had just taken. This series of events lead to the obvious fact that whomever you were hugging was absolutely not Penelope Garcia. Penelope was in fact not even in the foyer, but rather a very attractive, tall man with slightly curly brown hair and eyes like honey was staring back at you. And you couldn’t take your eyes off him.
 --
Reid’s POV
 Spencer hadn’t actually had anything to drink since arriving at Garcia’s. No, he just drank prior to that point. Normally, he didn’t drink at all when his team got together, but this was just worth celebrating. Another serial killer was behind bars for life because of the work the team did today. Hell, even Hotch and Rossi stayed for a few hours before they left. As part of the “young crowd” on the team, he had stayed at the bar longer than the two older men before the group of you retreated to Garcia’s. Hers was the closest apartment, and everyone else wanted to keep the party going. Spencer couldn’t help but join them, not wanting to return to his empty apartment after the long day they all spent testifying.
 Finishing his second glass of water, he began to get up to get more and maybe some for the group when everyone heard the knocking. The group laughed as three consecutive “Penny’s” came from the door. “Reid, can you get that since you’re already up?” Garcia asked, motioning toward the door. “It must be Y/N. She always calls me Penny when she’s drunk.” He obliged. He obviously remembered Garcia mentioning Y/N before, but he had never met her. He swung the door open, expecting a drunk friend of Garcia’s. He was not prepared, however, for said drunk friend to throw herself at him, grasp him in an alarmingly tight hug, and start sobbing. He could barely make out what you were saying through the sobs hearing “surprise Drew”, “anniversary”, “sex”, and “drunk” before you practically screamed “I even went out and bought this stupid, uncomfortable underwear to surprise him.”
 It was clear you meant to be pouring her heart out to Garcia, but you hadn’t yet realized who answered the door. For the first time in his life, Dr. Spencer Reid couldn’t think of words to say as you ran your hands up his body to his shoulders. You were clearly taking in the information required to come to the conclusion that he is not in fact Penelope Garcia. As your eyes met his, all he could do was stare. He made every effort to keep his eyes level with yours, but one glace was all it took to be ingrained in his memory forever. He wouldn’t have looked, but the movement of your coat caught his eye as it revealed the exact type of surprise you had planned for whoever Drew was.
 The two of you were frozen, unsure of how to proceed. You looked just like he did- a deer in the headlights. Neither of you could move. Neither of you could speak. You could both hear Garcia’s voice as she stumbled down the hallway, but it sounded distant. It wasn’t until the mystery woman broke eye contact that he backed away. Trying desperately to control the blush he were sure had made its way to his cheeks.
 --
 Y/N’s POV
 The moment was broken as you felt Penny turn you towards her. The flush on your cheeks only grew as you kept your eyes on the tall man as he retreated into the living room, not having said a word. “Y/N… Y/N? Y/N!” Penny had to yell slightly to get your attention. “What happened? What are you doing here? I thought you were celebrating tonight?” She asked rapid fire. You could tell she was also a little bit drunk.
 You told her everything. The words practically falling out of you as you started crying again. “Oh babe, I’m so sorry. Here, let’s get you inside.” Penny started to guide you into the living room, but you froze “Wait! Can I borrow some clothes before I go in there? I don’t need to flash anyone else right now.” You whispered. Penny laughed, “Of course! Who did you fla- ohhh. Reid.” She said, trying to hold back the giggles.
 “Yes. If that is the very tall man with the perfect eyes and the completely tuggable hair.” You responded, not quite filtering your thoughts, as you were still very drunk.
 “I’ll be back in a jiffy!” Penny replied, not knowing how else to respond to the fact that you are very clearly attracted to the young doctor, but also going through shit right now. She would just file away this information for later.
taglist:
@mac99martin​ 
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acourtofsnakes · 4 years
Text
Solus - Rogue, Chapter 1| Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader(F)
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Summary: So I don’t want to give too much away, but a rough outline - You are Force Sensitive, and after being hunted your whole life, you’re not surprised to find another Mandalorian on your tail. What you didn’t expect, was THIS Mandalorian. Nor anything that happen’s after. And so begins a journey of two Rogues (three if you count the womp rat). 
Warnings: Not many in this chapter as it’s an opening but, mentions of death, angst?, swearing, fighting, my rusty writing after I haven’t done it in years, let me know if there’s anything else!!
AN: So, I think this might be a little messy in terms of tenses. It jumps around from the past to present a little too, so I’m sorry if its confusing… Let me know what you think!! And if you want to be added to the taglist!
Word count: Just over 4k.
Rogue Masterlist | Introduction| 1: Solus| 2: Arir | 3: Tor | 4: Gaa'tayl
Rogue Taglist:  @snipskixandbeskar​ @weirdowithnobeardo
Mando’a translation: Solus - Alone
Alone.
That word had come to change its meaning over the years. When you were a small child, alone meant you were outside, playing in the grass and flowers with your parents just a few metres away indoors, within sight of you still. Close enough to come running should anything happen to you. Including that time you got stung by a bee and screamed so loudly the neighbours thought you were being raided.
A few years later, alone meant being shut away inside your room, windows closed, door firmly shut.
“It’s for your own safety, honey, you know what will happen… We don’t want this for you, we hate this, but we must keep you safe, my darling.”
You understood, of course. It was your own fault; you didn’t mean for it to happen… But just because you understood, it didn’t mean you had to like it.
A year on, alone changed properly for the first time.
The true meaning of the word hit you like a speeder when you were kneeling in the mess on the dusty ground.
Blood had soaked your knees, staining your tunic. It had coated your hands, your arms as you frantically shook the shoulders of your mother, willing her to open her eyes, to sit up and hold you. To stroke your hair and tell you it was okay, it was all just a bad dream. To take you home, where you could forget this whole thing.
It didn’t truly sink in until you heard your fathers strangled scream as he ran around the corner…
And then the sickening hiss and sizzle as the blaster hit him square in the chest. The way he tried to crawl across the ground to you and your mother, but there was a heavy white boot planted firmly in his back, a gloved hand yanking his head up and a vibroblade sliced across his throat.
His blood had coated your own bare feet as you ran to him.
You were only 12.
From that moment on… you were truly alone. No family. No more friends, they had all left when you showed them your power. Such a beautiful, natural thing, being in line with the Earth, the energy that connected all living things. It was rare, meant to be celebrated…
Instead, it just bought death upon those you loved.
So, as you ran from the horror scene within the market square, your parents blood baking onto your skin in the hot sun, you buried it. Deep inside, locking it in a box, surrounding it in darkness and keeping it hidden.
And that’s where it had stayed for the last 20 years.
~~~
Sorgan was a good place to be for a little while.
The air was breathable, the forests thick and lush, providing good cover, and the inhabitants were spread few and far between. It was quiet, the only habitable planet in its system, in fact, so it was… safe?
Well. That’s what you had told yourself when you made the split decision to come here after somehow managing to stow away on a ship that just happened to be going there.
You’d just been attacked by a Trandoshan bounty hunter, chased halfway across the planet you were on and forced to dump most of the belongings you’d managed to acquire for yourself in an effort to get away. The green lizard humanoid was… beyond eager. Hunting was their way of life, they thrived on the ritual of it and this one was no different. He was relentless. Constantly tasting the air for your scent with that disgusting flickering tongue. He’d even licked your neck once and you thought you might throw up all over his weird, scaly body. 
It had gone on for more than a week before you decided to try and get the jump on him. You laid a trap, using his eagerness against him and it had worked…. Mostly. You fought, hard, managed to sever his arm and you were just going in for the kill when out of nowhere the tables turned. Knocking away your weapons, he’d pinned you to the ground, a wickedly sharp blade pushing into your shoulder and scraping bone.
He took one look at you, battered, exhausted, blood soaking your shoulder and burst out laughing, preening in glee that he’d finally caught you, finally managed to capture the girl everyone wanted (you hadn’t bothered to ask if he was employed by the Republic or the Imperials. At this point, it didn’t matter anymore).
What he failed to notice in his gloating, was the vibroblade you pulled from the sheath on your thigh. One moment, he was laughing, the next, his head was thudding onto the ground next to your own, mouth still open in glee, reptilian tongue lolling out.
The next hour or so had been a blur, making your way through the town again, cloak pulled up over your head and over your shoulder to hide the wound. You’d managed to steal cloth and a tincture from a street vendor, binding and cleaning the knife wound whilst hiding in a small alley. It was there that you saw the ship, only a small cargo ship, the door left open. You’d slipped in like a ghost, settling between some crates of unidentifiable objects and let yourself slump, adrenaline leaving your body, leaving it shattered and full of pain. Too close. You’d almost been caught and taken back Maker knows where. Luckily you had that blade, one you’d stolen from an Imp a couple years back after he’d tried to capture you.
As you hid in the cargo hold, you heard the co-pilot ask about the turquoise planet.
“Sorgan? Why Sorgan? That place is beyond boring. I’m surprised the people living there haven’t started a war just for something to do.”
The pilot had laughed, “You’re right there. Barely anyone comes out here anymore. Most people don’t even remember it’s here.”
That suited you just fine then. A mostly empty planet with a krill-fishing village that kept to itself, swamps and forests… hey, maybe you’d finally get a chance to relax.
Since then, you’d found a little place in the forest, up high in some clustered branches, near a source of running water. It was high enough to stay out of the way of predators, but close enough to the ground that you’d be able to spot any enemies – and get away quickly.
You’d even made a friend here.
Well… sort of.
Your first night on the planet, you were trekking through the forests when your legs had just… given out. You were spent, mentally and physically, blood pooling through your fingers from the knife wound which had since opened up again. As you lay there, staring through the canopy, you decided that maybe this was it now. Maybe it was time to give up the fight.
You had been running for so long, it was a way of life now. Had more injuries than you could count and been hunted by twice as many people. Hunters and mercenaries of all species and origin, IG-11 droids, the occasional Imp or New Republic official, even a Mandalorian once – that one had been bad. You’d had to give in after you killed him and go to a hospital, he’d left a blaster hole in your thigh so deep you could see bone.
It was quiet here, peaceful, you remembered.  The treetops had begun to blur and swoop under you as you came to your decision.
I’m sorry, mumma, I’m sorry, papa. I tried, but I can’t do it anymore.
You had closed your eyes, giving into the darkness with a final goodbye and letting it wash over you like a tidal wave.
Only to be woken up what felt like seconds later by a wet nose and furry face pushing against your hand. Lifting your head, you’d blinked away the blurriness to find a rounded, big eared head resting on your hand. A Loth cat. It appeared that you’d gotten yourself a little friend.
Since then, she hadn’t left your side, following you everywhere, climbing up the trees and curling up on your lap of a night. You weren’t sure what had drawn her to you, but… it was the first companion you’d had in such a long time, and her warm body against yours was such a comforting feeling that you couldn’t bear to part with her.
That was a few weeks ago.
Nothing had happened in those few weeks. No fighting, no threats, no beeping of tracking fobs waking you in the night and sending you hurtling for the trees.
Nothing but trees, swamps and your furry little friend that you’d called Duru, after a childhood friend.
The only thing bothering you at this point, was your arm. You’d managed to smuggle some herbs from an apothecary hut in the fishing village, but it wasn’t healing properly. The wound had sealed, but it ached. Insistently. Some days it wasn’t too bad, but most of the time, it caused you enough grief that you struggled to grip anything. It was just lucky it was your non-dominant side.
A small groan left your lips as you rubbed at the skin around the wound, perched on a low branch, watching the village. The string of your bow dug into it, sending small shockwaves down your nerves and making your hand spasm. You shifted the bowstring, curling your hand into a fist and releasing it again to get some feeling back into it, an absent action as you just watched the day-to-day life of the village.
It soothed you in a way, just watching people go about their daily lives, how each person had a part to play. Even though you hadn’t met any of them and doubted they knew you were there, you liked and respected them nonetheless. So, whenever you snuck into the village for supplies, you always left something in return. Prey you’d shot down in the forest for food, herbs you’d gathered, fish you’d caught. Just a small way to say thank you to the for keeping you safe, even if they didn’t know it.
You weren’t sure how long you had been sat there for, eyes closed, one leg dangling from the branch and just enjoying the sunlight on your face, the cool and faintly briny breeze when Duru suddenly shot to her feet, a low growl rumbling from her throat. Your eyes snapped open in an instant, bow drawn and pointing into the forest, ignoring the lick of pain as your shoulder protested.
You scanned the branches, the ground below but… nothing. There was no-one there, but Duru was still staring, eyes fixed on something you couldn’t see. You huffed, leaning back against the trunk. She probably just saw a bird or a bug or something.
Still, you remained on edge for the rest of the afternoon, your hand flying to the hilt of your knife at every little crack of branches or whisper through the trees.
It took you a long time to sleep that night, but your body eventually gave in and fell into a somewhat fitful slumber, hand still resting on your bow just in case.
---
Beep.
Beep.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Beep. Bee-
Within seconds, your eyes shot open and you were bolt upright. You knew that noise.
Instinct took over and you grabbed Duru, urging her still sleepy body onto your shoulders as you scrambled down the tree trunk… only to fall the last metre because of your shoulder.
Stifling the cry of pain, you shot back to your feet and took off running, in the opposite direction of that noise.
You’d been too relaxed, let your guard slip down too much here. You should have left the second Duru went on alert last night. Of course, her instincts were so much better than yours, but you ignored it. Like a fucking fool.
The curses kept slipping from your lips as you ran, not daring to see who was behind you just yet. Maybe you’d get lucky, maybe it was just a normal hunter, looking for a big job, not realising the countless that came before him or her. Or it.
You almost laughed to yourself as you zig-zagged through the trees, feet flying over the undergrowth.Maker, you had to get off this planet, it was making you too lax.
The predator’s presence was like a dark cloud behind you, slipping through the trees, lapping at your heels every time you thought you had gotten away. Trees and branches whipped past your face, stinging but you didn’t have time to brush them away. You didn’t even have time to turn your bow and shoot an arrow, the hunter was just that close. Your brain worked frantically, seeking for a way out, an escape, a distraction, anything.
Wait.
A distraction.
You cursed yourself again, drawing in a ragged gasp of air into your aching lungs as you fumbled at your belt. You had a small flash grenade in a pouch on your belt. You used to have three, you’d had them for years and only used them for dire situations. Like this one, you just need a distraction, even for just a few seconds to get up into a tree.
Duru dug her claws into your shoulders for grip – ow, claws -  as you activated the grenade and threw it over your bad shoulder without even turning around. The hunter was so close behind you, you knew it would work no matter where you aimed.
As the grenade exploded into light, you shielded both your eyes and Duru’s with the hood of your cloak, putting on a burst of speed and adrenaline and you bolted for a tree to your left, practically flying up into the canopy. Without hesitation, you began to make your way through the trees, almost sobbing with relief to the Maker that the branches intersect and cross over so that you can make your way across them.
After about 10 minutes of moving through the air, you stopped, hunkering down against the trunk of a huge willow tree as you tried to haul air into your lungs, whilst staying quiet. The pain in your shoulder nearly brought tears to your eyes, the ache in your chest but you stayed still, breathing in through your nose slowly, then out through your mouth, massaging the stitch in your side.
Was the hunter still all that way back? Was he looking for you on the ground? Maybe he was in the trees too, opposite you, watching and waiting to-
“You can’t hide from me.”
The voice came from below and somewhere to the right, a few metres away. On the ground then. The voice sounded male, a little distorted, but that may have just been the roaring of blood in your ears.
You barely breathed, scanning your surrounds and slowly rising to a crouch on the branch, calming your body into a hunters pace of your own. Slow, even movements, balancing your weight as you crept around the tree to a branch on the other side.
Even Duru was silent, hunkering around your neck, her head barely peeping out of your cloak.
“You might have evaded all the others, but you can’t run. Not from me.”
Typical. You rolled your eyes as you slipped along the branches like a phantom. Another hunter thinking he’d get the glory because he captured you. The faint call of fear in your blood quietened as you realised he was just like the others.
Let him gloat, you thought. He could be dispatched as easy as the ugly reptile last time. And his tongue. 
You kept your ears pricked as you eased over to the next tree, but you couldn’t hear him. Obviously trying to get the jump on you. You let out a silent laugh as you reached the adjoining tree and began to descend.
“I can bring you in warm. Or I can bring you in cold.”
You froze, going rigid, praying the leaves would hide you as one foot dangled in the air. He was right underneath you.
You dared a glance down, finally looking at your current attacker and…
Nearly fell from the tree.
Standing on the ground below you, pulse rifle pointed at you was a tall figure. Decked out in beskar armour so shiny you could have done your hair in it, the infamous helmet covering his face, tilted in an almost casual, cocky expression.
A Mandalorian.
The Mandalorian.
You’d heard whispers of this one. That beskar armour, more than any other Mandalorian has ever laid their hands on, paid for by the collection of a high-stakes bounty. A bounty which he stole back, from the hands of The Client and Stormtrooper bodyguards, breaking Guild code and going on the run. Wanted by The Galactic Empire, The Guild, and countless others, he became a rogue, travelling the Outer Rim with his little green child in tow, completing jobs and missions for normal people, all the while being hunted himself by Moff Gideon. He was relentless, one of the best, not hesitating to kill if someone threatened him or the Child.
Someone obviously wants you very, very badly, to call upon a wanted man to track you down.
And he obviously wants to bring you in just as much, to take the risk of this hunt. You briefly wonder just how much he’s being offered.
Fuck. You’re really screwed now, aren’t you?
All of this flashed through your mind in an instant, as your arm shook with the pull of your body weight on the wound. You made as if to move, put suddenly he’s there before you’ve even let your foot drop, a gloved hand grabbing the bottom of your cloak and yanking you to the ground with a thud. Duru made a yowl of protest, springing off your shoulder and into the trees, which you were relieved about because at least she’d be safe.
Twisting to avoid putting weight on your bad shoulder, you bared your teeth at him in a grin, “I bet you use that line on all the ladies, don’t you?”
Really?? This man, this Mandalorian was going to either kill or take you, and you were trying to flirt with him??
Shaking your head at yourself, you rose to your feet, grabbing your bow, thankful you spent 4 years saving the credits for it. It was made of a strong but flexible metal, perfectly shaped for your height, as familiar to you as your own arm. Its edges were razor sharp, a knifes edge. You spun, swinging it toward him and it lightly clanged as it met the armour on his forearm, the vibration skittering down your arm.
The Mandalorian lifted his other hand, a knife in it that he guided toward your side, “Only the ones that have a bigger bounty than I’ve ever seen on their head.”
You quickly jumped back, but not before he caught you, cutting through the fabric of your tunic and opening a small cut just under your ribs. “Ooh, now we’re onto flattery so soon? Careful, Mandalorian, I’d think you were trying to woo me, not kill me.” You flung out with your bow again, only to have him grab it, yanking it out of your grip and throwing it to the side.
Mandalorian made a faint noise, whether it was disgust or exasperation you didn’t know, “You talk too much” He came at you again, a flurry of fists and kicks that were almost too quick for you, making you realise that you weren’t just fighting some cocky hunter.
This was possibly the most dangerous Mandalorian out there, save for Boba Fett. He wasn’t going to let this go. You were a good fighter, excellent, even, but as you both danced a routine of attack and defence across the clearing, you realised… you just might not walk away from this.
You panted, ducking under his arm as he swung for you. Maybe… maybe you could go and seek help in the village, you could hide in a hut or a boat, beg them to take you in.
It was like he read your mind, seeing what you were planning to do, “Really? You’d lead me into the villages? Haven’t enough people died for you already?” His voice was like a rasp as it come out through the modulator, cutting straight through the clarity of the fight and into your heart, making you pause.
How did he know that? Your parents were common knowledge within the hunters of course, nearly everyone knew, but everyone else, those that tried to hide you…
~“Run!!! Y/N, run. Don’t look back, whatever you see, whatever you hear you must promise me you will not look back.”~
A hard impact to your jaw made you stumble backwards, dragging yourself back to the present. Asshole. He’d distracted you. “You’re talking to me about death? How many have you killed, Mandalorian?” You kicked out at his knee, your boot connected just under the plate that covered his thigh and he partially went down.
The Mandalorian grunted as he rose back to his feet, “I’ve killed, yes. But criminals. Murderers. People who deserve it. I haven’t killed innocent people.” He came for you again, fists up and his blaster out this time
You couldn’t help the shocked laugh as you avoided his advances, slashing out with another small knife, grinning when it found home in his shoulder, “You haven’t? What about all the Jedi your little clan murdered?” You spat out the word clan, punching him hard, ignoring the protest your knuckles made at the impact of the beskar. “You didn’t understand a people, so your first instinct was to slaughter them like animals.”
You could almost feel the frown behind the T-visor of his helmet, “That was before me, I was never a part of the war. And why do you care about the Jedi?”
~“Mumma!! I’m not leaving you!! I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry, this is my fault, I shouldn’t have done anything, I’m sorry!!”
“Shhh, shhh, my darling. It’s alright. They just don’t understand you, that’s all. Which is why you have to run, you must go and find your father and be safe, please.”
“There she is!!! Over there! Kill anyone that tries to protect her”~
You hesitated, lost in memories of the past, explosions, screaming and blood. So much blood…
He shot out a grappling line from his vambrace and it wrapped around your ankle and he pulled you off balance and to the ground, again. Weapons made specifically to combat Jedi, people with the same abilities as you, reminding you just how hunted you were. He rose to his feet, walking over to you, “I don’t know why they want you. I don’t know what you’ve done. I don’t care. I just know that you’re a criminal, you’re wanted, and the price on your head is nearly as big as mine.”
You snarled at him, reaching for your vibrobrade and pulling it from your thigh.
He just sighed, kicking it from your hand with one foot easily and at the same time he jammed the end of his rifle against your shoulder, already having marked it as a weakness.
A howl of rage and pain ripped through your gritted teeth, and the edges of your vision started to go black. It was broken by the helmet coming into your eyesight, the moon bouncing off the surface, “Give in. You can’t win. Even if you beat me, more and more people will just keep coming after you.” His voice had turned to honey on a knife edge, persuasive. Wrong.
Right.
You shook your head, as if trying to shake off his words, deny the truth of it even as tears started to burn the back of your eyes. You arched your back from the floor, trying to get up, trying to shift his knee off of you but he was like a damn rock on you, pinning you to the floor. “Fuck off, you’re just as heartless as the rest of them.”
Your power cried out to be used, begged form that place buried deep within you, but you pushed it down. You wouldn’t, couldn’t. Instead, you swallowed, lifting your head and opening your mouth to scream.
Only for his hand to wrap around your throat, his fingers lightly pushing against you. It wasn’t enough to strangle you, or cut off your air supply, but the squeeze of his fingers was enough to warn you that he would do it if you tried to alert the villagers. The Mandalorian leaned down, close enough that you could see your reflection in the black visor. More honey dripped from that voice, worming into your head, your defences.
“More people will die for you. And I don’t think you want that. I won’t touch those villagers, but anyone after me might not be so lenient.” He tilted that stupid helmet, merely watching you struggle with another light squeeze around your throat, another slight prod into your shoulder.
~Explosions lit up the market, local people screaming and running for cover as spices and fruit flew through the air. You choked, searching through the smoke, until your bare feet landed in something warm and wet. Blood.~
As you glared up into the unrelenting metal, you caught your own reflections eyes. Bruised. Battered, snarling. A danger to anyone you came near. How many people had died because of you? Either directly or indirectly? All because you kept running. Maybe you just didn’t deserve it. Deserved to live freely. And hell, you were so tired. 20 years on the run, more if you count the years with your parents. Always having to look over your shoulder, never being able to completely trust another living person. The closest thing you’ve had to a friend in the last 5 years is a Loth cat, and even she left.
It was time to just… give in.
~“Mumma? Mumma wake up, please wake up. You have to, you have to get up, please mumma, PLEASE!!”~
You couldn’t do it anymore.
I’m sorry.
The Mandalorian saw the defeat in your eyes, the way your body slumped into the ground, your muscles relaxed. As a tear rolled down your cheek, you took one last glance at the stars, so you didn’t see him hesitate for just a second before using the shock of his rifle to knock you into darkness.
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americxn · 4 years
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Run - part 2
warnings: violence  word count: 2300 a/n: as requested. btw you’re all so sweet, can you hear me crying??
Kai’s grip around the back of your neck was unforgiving as he hauled you out of the car, the grit of his driveway biting into your knees as you lost your footing and fell. Hissing in discomfort, you let him pull you up, both of you wordless as you let yourself be dragged up the front steps of Kai’s house.  The door was kicked open by Kai and you were shoved over the threshold, somehow managing to stay upright. You could make out quiet voices in the living room to your right, voices that fell silent as Kai slammed you to the hard wooden floor, landing a harsh kick to your ribs that left you gasping on the ground. And then you were being dragged again, Kai’s grip unrelenting as it tangled in your hair once more and you were pulled into the living room. When he let go, helping you to the floor with a shove, you were able to lift your head, meeting the cold stares of the cult members as they leered down at you, all of their faces painted with distaste. Your hands began to shake, knowing full well that the jealously and anger of the other members might well be allowed to turn physical at Kai’s order. Kai seemed to realise this too and he smirked, stepping forwards so that his scuffed shoes were mere inches away from your face. You didn’t dare move, your laboured breathing filling the silence of the room.  “Let me have a turn, Divine Ruler.” One of the men to Kai’s right spoke gruffly. It was silent for a moment before the sound of skin on skin impact thudded through the room. You grimaced, looking up slowly to see the member on the floor, cradling the side of his face and Kai sneering down at him, shaking out him knuckles. “None of you get to touch her.” He hissed. “I just want you to get a good look at her and keep it in mind to compare how she looks in a few days time. To remind you,” your shoulders shook violently as he raised his voice, “what happens when you scheme against me.” Footsteps sounded down the hall at the commotion, Beverly appearing moments later in the doorway. Her eyes landed on your cowering figure on the floor, filling with desolation before quickly becoming vacant. Her face went slack, her expression becoming as uncaring as the men crowded around you.  You knew she had to be careful to mask her emotions, otherwise she risked revealing that she had been the one to warn you of Kai’s pursuit of you. But the possibility that she hated you as much as everyone else in the room still stung as it cut deep.  You watched in silence as Beverly’s eyes drifted across the space, slightly to the left as you followed her gaze, every thought eddying from your pain-clouded mind as your stare settled on one of the cult members. Liam. Satisfaction filled your head as you regarded him coldly, glad to find that he looked just as terrified as you felt. A little smile formed on your lips. And then your body snapped into motion, moving before you had a chance to process your thoughts. You were on your feet in less than a second and upon the boy in two, the crowd parting with a cacophony as gasps as you lunged at the boy, knocking him to the floor and clawing his face, leaving deep marks in his skin with your nails. Blood spilled instantly, dripping down his pale face in stark contrast. The others scattered and started shouting but none of the moved, too scared to interfere as you yelled in Liam’s face, managing to land a few hard punches on his face. “You lying prick,” you screamed at him as his arms rose in a weak attempt to protect himself. You felt a strong pair of arms loop around your waist and you were pulled off Liam. To your utmost gratification, his face was bloody.  You bucked in Kai’s grip as he pulled you away from the trembling boy who was being helped to his feet by two other members.  “Let go of me.” You snarled at Kai, fighting to turn around in his arms, wanting to hurt him too. To hurt everyone in this room. “He lied!” You declared, trying to dig your feet into the smooth wood floor as you were hauled out of the room, Kai struggling to lift you up and flip you over his shoulder as you screamed insults at him, clawing at his back as he walked the both of you up the stairs.  Your fists bashed against his back in desperation, but to no avail. Kai kicked the door to his bedroom open before throwing you down on the bed, leaping upon you immediately. You were once again pinned beneath his considerable weight and he snarled at you to “stop fucking moving” as you writhed on the bed beneath him, your brain screaming at you to throw him off and go after Liam again, the boy who had lied at your expense and had gotten away with it. To spill more of his blood. “Y/N, STOP.” You stilled your movements, pulling feebly at your arms as they were pinned above your head.  “He lied, Kai.” You insisted, voice trembling in rage and fear. His face was cold above yours but you caught the glimpse of uncertainty that flashed in his eyes. “Why the fuck would I want to kill you? Why would I want to lead the cult? I can’t do that. I don’t want to do that and I know that you realise too, please, Kai,” you rambled on, “Liam came to me last week asking me to help him get out of the cult and I didn’t want him dead so tried to help him excuse himself from the meetings, Kai, you know I would never hurt you, I-”  “Stop,” he cut you off grimly as your eyes filled and overflowed with hot tears that stung as they worked their way down your face.  “You have to believe me. Please.” The last word was carried on a sob. “I said stop.” He repeated, firmly. You fell silent, chest heaving with the force of your weeping that you didn’t try to conceal.  “You’re telling me that he lied?” He spoke with a calmness that rallied the anger within you. “Yes, that’s what I’m saying.” You snapped at him, shrinking back into the bed at the warning that flashed in his gaze as he considered your words.  “I’ve been with you for years, Kai. Years. He’s been here for a matter of weeks.”  You tried to reason with him, your sobs quieting as you watched his gaze soften more and more with each word. “And he never would of accepted your offer if you hadn’t have promised him a place to stay. You know this, please, Kai.” Kai studied your tear and blood streaked face carefully and your chest swelled hopefully as his hand drifted to your cheek, caressing the side of your face softly.  But then his grip tightened on your face, his hand clenching onto your jaw painfully and you winced as he jerked you head back, exposing your bare throat to him. “If you’re innocent, then why did you run?” And with that he dragged you up, moving off you so that he could tug you by your face off the bed.  “No!” You screeched. “No, KAI, PLEASE.”  He lugged you across the room, to his closet, pulling open the door to the small space and slapping you hard enough to see stars before shoving you in. You let out an ungodly squeal as he slammed the closet door shut, the sound of the lock clicking into place a condemnation that summoned the most primal part of you.  You kicked at the door, slamming your fists against it repeatedly and pleading to Kai as he walked away, the sound of his bedroom door closing sending you into a panicked frenzy.  Your fingertips bleated in pain as you tore at the door, fists throbbing as they were pummeled against the hard surface repeatedly. But it was pointless, Kai was long gone. You sat back, heaving down air as you tried to calm yourself. “Please don’t leave me in here.” You whimpered into the unappeasable darkness. What if he just didn’t come back? What if he had decided that he didn’t need you around anymore and just left you to rot. The dark enclosed space was illuminated by the borders of light around the doorway and you lifted your shaking hands into the dim light, frowning as you saw that your knuckles were bloody and swollen. Helplessness like you had never known it settled over you and your body shook violently as the events of the past two hours finally caught up to you. The sound of your cries were smothered by the darkness of the closet as you curled your knees to your body and sobbed luxuriously into your hands. ____________________________✧・゚: *✧・゚:*_________________________________
Kai returned later that day, the light stinging your eyes as he opened the door and stared down at you blankly. You reluctantly met his gaze, your eyes puffy and face blotchy, unsure of how long you had been locked in the dark. Your gaze flicked down to his hand, seeing that he was holding a sandwich, which he presented to you, holding it out and watching you carefully as you extended an aching arm to take the plate from him. “No.” He said quietly, moving the plate out of your reach before taking the sandwich and chucking it onto your lap. You scowled as the contents spilled out of the bread, smearing onto your pants.  “I don’t trust you with the plate.” He explained quietly, tearing his gaze from you as he closed the door again in your face. “You’ll probably break into pieces and use it to cut your own throat or some shit.” He muttered, his voice muffled through the door. You took a steadying breath as the darkness closed in around you once more.  “Wai-wait.” You called after him as you heard his footsteps heading towards his bedroom door. Your voice was raw but he heard you, his foot falls halting. “Can I please have a glass a water?”  Kai was silent as he considered your question. But then he walked the last few steps to his door.  “Maybe tomorrow.” His words were cold, the sound of his bedroom door closing condemned you to silence once more. ____________________________✧・゚: *✧・゚:*_________________________________ Kai left you in his tiny closet space for days, only letting you see light when he came to bring you scraps of food, barely enough to keep your stomach’s incessant rumbling at bay. Your tailbone burned throughout it all, forcing you to shift your position every ten minutes, making sleep almost impossible. Any sense of time had long since evaded you and you were forced to sit in your own blood, piss and tears for god knows how long before Kai finally unlocked the door, holding a hand out to you silently and helping you to your feet. You looked at him, eyes dull as you held you upright, scanning your body and grimacing at the smell of you. You swallowed, apprehension building in your gut as you anticipated his next move.  His gaze softened. “It’s over now.” He assured you softly, bringing your head to his chest and embracing you tightly. You didn’t return his hug, fresh tears squeezing their way out of your eyes, wetting the front of his shirt as he held your head to him. Pulling back, he eyed you in concern as you stood motionless before him. You met his gaze. Was that...guilt? Frowning, you struggled to discern the emotions displayed on his face before you scooped you into his arms, pressing a careful kiss to your temple. You didn’t have the energy to protest as he carried you into the bathroom, setting you down on the counter beside the sink and tugging off your pants and shirt.  Exhaustion clouded your consciousness and you let Kai take control, allowing him to lift you down from the counter and leading you to his shower. He helped you wash, scrubbing the piss from between your legs and the blood from your hair. Kai apologised to you before peeling off your underwear and you cringed as you became completely exposed to him, but he consoled you softly as your face flushed and you began to protest weakly. Eventually you gave yourself over to him, the need for sleep weighing down on your body.  After he had washed every inch of you, you let him lead you out of the shower and wrap you in a warm towel, taking your hand to bring you to his bed. You fell asleep as Kai took up a hairbrush in his hand and struggled to work it through your knotted hair, letting you fall forwards onto the bed and making sure you were completely dry before folding the covers over you and leaving the room, allowing you to sleep deeply.  You were woken up several hours later by Kai who helped to sit you up and presented you with a large glass of water, not leaving your side until you had drained the entirety of the glass. “I’m fine.” You said to him sharply as he mother-henned over you, hurrying to his dresser and finding a warm shirt for you wear as you sat yourself up, using his duvet to cover your exposed chest. But Kai really didn’t seem interested in your body as he passed you the shirt and let you pull it on yourself.  You ignored him completely, scowling at the floor as you got dressed. “I meant what I said to you in the car.” He said quietly after several beats of silence as you pushed yourself to your unsteady feet. He took a glance at you as you had to take a moment to steady yourself on your feet. You knew what he meant, the accidental declaration that he had made. “Why the fuck would I kill someone I love?” The memory of this brought a glower to your face and you brushed past him as you exited the room. Without so much as turning to address him directly you bit out, “yeh? It’s going to take a hell of a lot to prove it to me, Kai.” He turned to follow you, a reply forming on his lips. But it was your turn to close the door in his face, your turn to cut off his words as you took the stairs the kitchen, a single clear thought occupying your head: Liam. 
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