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todoroki-waifu · 3 years

Text

Atsumu x F! Reader

Scenario: When you try to subtly confess to Atsumu.

Word Count: 1,970

Genre: Fluff and humor.

Warnings: Cursing, female reader, and some OOC-ness (maybe?). My first time writing for Atsumu and the rest of the Inarizaki team.

————

“I get that she’s the most beautiful here, but we are here to check out the art, too.” Atsumu jumps slightly at a voice and hand on his shoulder.

“‘Samu!"

"Could you be any more obvious?"

"I-I wasn’t doing anything!” Atsumu huffs, a blush attacking his face as he shakes off his brother’s hand.

“Why don’t you ask her out already before someone else does?"

"I’m working on it!"

"Hey, who’s that with __(y/n)?” Suna chimes into their conversation, nodding to where you had been standing and admiring a portrait. The two see a man conversing with you, both of you very engaged in whatever topic that was being discussed. He brought out a small electronic device, looking a bit nervous as he showed you the screen.

“He’s probably going to ask for her number.” Osamu replies indifferently, but did a quick glance at his sibling.

“What?!” Atsumu immediately leaves the group.

“Wait, but doesn’t that guy-” Aran questions, but Kita cuts him off while the others hold in their chuckles.

“Let him figure it out."

——-

"So if you put your-” While you were listening to the young man who approached you, a familiar face made himself known.

“Hey, buddy, is there a problem over here?” Atsumu suddenly inserts himself in between you and the stranger. He stands tall, looming over the shorter male.

“N-no, there is no problem.”

“Atsumu-kun, he was just-” You placed a hand on his arm and tried to explain the situation.

“Don’t worry, __(y/n)-chan. I got this.” Atsumu gently pushes you behind him to hide you.

“Was there something you needed from her?” He continues.

“No, si-sir. I-I was only trying to-”

“Well, if you ain’t got any business with her, I suggest you beat it.” The blonde twin glares at the male hiding behind his black device. He smirks victoriously, watching the scared stranger run away. He turns around to find you with your arms crossed and an incredulous look.

“Why were you so mean to him?”

“Mean? What do you mean? Wasn’t he trying to hit on you?”

“What? No! He works here! He’s a staff member."

"But didn’t he have his phone out to get your number?”

“Get my..-you mean his Ipad? He wasn’t trying to get my number, he was asking for my email so he could send a survey for us to fill out on how satisfied we were with the staff and the place."

Atsumu had no answer, processing what he did to the innocent and diligent worker and to you. You must think he’s a crazy idiot for sure.

"As funny and adorable that was, you’re coming with me to apologize.” You grabbed his hand, dragging Atsumu to find the man who he wrongly yelled at.

“Yes..” He pouts, but obeys. You’re zipping through the crowd until you finally spot your target.

“He’s with someone else, but we’re waiting until he’s finished and I’m not letting go until you do."

"I-I wasn’t gonna run away.” His cheeks heat up at your clasped hands, avoiding your gaze.

“Just in case.” You continued to look forward, __(e/c) eyes too shy to meet his brown ones.

“Thank you though,” You break the short pause, “I know it was a misunderstanding, but it’s nice to know that someone has my back.”

Atsumu directs his head to you, but is unable to see your face since it’s turned away with your finger busying itself with a strand of your hair.

“Of course. Always.” Your heart skips at his soft reply. You feel a gentle squeeze on your hand and respond similarly, fighting back the smile that was eager to present itself.

“Oh look! He’s done. Let’s go.” You gently pull him towards the staff worker once he has finished speaking to the other customers. You’re about to release his hand, but Atsumu keeps a tight grip. Probably he’s nervous about admitting to his mistake, you assume.

So you hold his hand just as tight, figuring he needs the support. You knew how much of a big baby he was.

But really, Atsumu was using this as an excuse to hold you just a bit longer. His fingers felt right in between yours.

——-

You managed to take some great pictures wherever it was allowed, but the artwork that forbade photos, you captured in your memory. After touring around the entire museum, you and the boys were starting to feel hungry, so everyone agreed to eat at the nearest restaurant.

You saw a few people scattered outside and you volunteered to ask the host how long the wait would be. Osamu steps behind his brother and lightly taps the back of his knees with his.

“Remember, that guy works here."

"Shut up, 'samu! I know that.” Atsumu huffs, red cheeks puffing out slightly as his friends laugh loudly. They stop as soon as you near them, telling the boys that there was a table open that could accommodate your party.

You sat in between the Miya twins which made you both nervous and happy. Your crush on Atsumu was getting worse every day yet you didn’t hate the feeling. You distracted yourself by looking through the menu, all of you deciding to share a couple appetizers before choosing your individual meals.

“What are you getting, __(y/n)-chan?” Atsumu asks, brown eyes looking at you as he lowers his menu.

“Hmmmm, I’m not sure yet. I’m caught between number 8 and 9.” You point to the items on the main course list.

“Oh! I was going to get the number 8. How about I get 8 and you get the 9 and we can just share? That way, we can get a taste of both. I’m curious about number 9 also.”

“Really? You wouldn’t mind?"

"Yea, of course I wouldn’t mind!” He grins, folding the menu before placing it on the table. You copy him and wait for the server to collect your orders.

You then bring out your phone, taking pictures of the boys and the restaurant’s interesting decor. Despite your school’s motto, you liked to keep the memories.

“Ne, Atsumu-kun, mind if I borrow your phone? Your camera is better than mine.” Your cell phone was a few years old, but Atsumu just replaced his and you were waiting to upgrade yours. Part of you was glad that you hadn't yet because you were going to use this opportunity to see how he feels about you.

“Sure. Here ya go.” He hands you his phone.

“Thanks!” You start taking pictures of yourself, really impressed with the photo quality.

“Take a selfie with me.” You change the camera view as you hold out your hand in front of you and Atsumu.

“You’re so far! Get close to me like you actually like me.” You say jokingly as you hear a few, muffled snickers around the table. Atsumu stutters a response, but you interrupt him when you start counting from three.

“Ready? Smile!” You take a few shots before looking at each one closely.

“Yeck, I’m deleting that one. I look gross in there.” You weren’t satisfied with how you smiled and your eyes looked like they were in mid blink.

“What? Don’t say that. You’re gorgeous!” Atsumu looks up at you after he watches you remove one of the many pictures. You blush at his statement, dodging his stare.

“Oh, ummm. ..t-thank you."

"You don’t gotta thank me. It’s the truth.” Atsumu murmurs, but it’s coherent enough where you could understand him.

“Get ready with your orders. The waiter is coming.” Kita sees the server walking towards your table. You went first and while everyone else was focused on the waiter, you quickly dragged your finger around on the phone screen. You immediately closed what you were doing and handed Atsumu back his phone.

Your heart was beating fast, but you kept a calm smile on your face as you casually made conversation with the volleyball team. None of the guys knew about your crush, afraid that they would make fun of you. Not that you believed they would, but you weren’t comfortable telling anyone yet.

Except for today.

You finally were going to tell one person about your crush and that person was Atsumu. You planned everything out for a while, thinking of every possible situation that could happen and how you would approach it. You were surprised at how smoothly your idea was going, but that made you even more uneasy.

But you already made your move and hoped that he would notice the little message in his phone.

———

Dinner was both fun yet stressful. Every time Atsumu would check his phone, your heart would jump at the thought of him seeing what you put. But he made no reaction so you assumed he had yet to see it.

And you were fine with that. You’d prefer if he read it at home instead of in a public place.

Everyone went their separate ways after the restaurant except you and the Miya twins. Your house wasn’t too far from theirs so they walked most of the way with you. Once you were close enough, you waved goodbye to the brothers.

“Bye! See you soon! And don’t forget to send me those pictures later, okay, Atsumu-kun?"

"Yeah, I will! Bye, __(y/n)-chan!” Atsumu waved back before turning away with Osamu.

——–

Unfortunately, he never sent those pictures. He must have forgotten, but with how many days has passed, you believed he probably felt awkward with the little note you put.

If he saw it. He never acted any differently when you saw him at school.

Maybe he never did see it? But you were too afraid to ask so you were just going to live quietly with your heartache.

——-

“Oh, shoot! I forgot to send those pics to __(y/n)-chan!” Atsumu says loudly while he and Osamu walk home from practice.

“You haven’t sent them yet? It’s been a week.” Osamu shakes his head.

“I forgot! I was too busy thinking of a way to tell her I like her. I gotta make sure it’s perfect.” The setter takes out his phone and taps on the photo album icon. As he selects and scrolls through the photos, his eyes become rounded at one particular image.

It was a selfie of you and him, sitting close, cheek to cheek as you both smile happily. What made him pause was the heart drawn over the two of you with the words ’yes or no?’ written at the bottom.

“Ahh! ’s-samu! Look, look!” He shows his phone to his brother. “I think __(y/n)-chan likes me back! She put this on our picture!”

As soon as Osamu sees what’s on the screen, his eyes also widen slightly then suddenly smacks his brother at the back of his head. “Dumbass! That photo has been sitting there for that long already?”

“I told you already, I forgot! And she never said anything! Other than to send the pictures after we ate- Oh my God, 'samu, I really am a dumbass!” Realization hit Atsumu harder than his brother’s slap.

“I knew that a long time ago. Now, why are you still here talking to me? Shouldn’t you be talking to __(y/n) instead?"

"You’re right! I gotta text her!” Atsumu’s hands were working fast in trying to find your text message conversation. Before Osamu could even make a snide comment, Atsumu becomes aware of a better alternative to communicate with you.

———

On your way home, you received multiple texts from Atsumu, all saying the same thing.

Yes!

Yes!!

Yes!

Yes!!!!

’The hell? Yes to what?’ Right when you were about to reply, you saw an incoming call from the setter who made your heart skip a beat daily.

“Hello?” You answer.

“Yes! __(y/n), yes! I want to be your boyfriend!”

#haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyuu #hq #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu drabbles #one shot #haikyuu one shot #hq oneshots #atsumu fluff #atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu reader insert #atsumu x you #atsumu drabble #atsumu oneshot #atsumu imagines #submission

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jamespotterthefirst · 3 years

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Okay I've done some thinking and now I'm going to do some annoying😂 and I've come up with several questions for Lilac and Ethan. BUT, you have to answer as them too. 🙃

What was their worst date together?

I think there might be some funny stories for this one. 🤭 But I'm not sure, so I'll leave that to you.

What are their most repeated sentences or phrases?

Who takes longer to get ready?

Who spends more time on social media?

Who is the better driver and who is the default passenger? (also, how were they like when the other first drove them somewhere? Like when Lilac first drove Ethan somewhere and vise versa? )

Who is better at fashion?

Who is the biggest flirt?

Who sings better?

Who usually wins an argument?

Who usually finishes their food faster?

Who is more likely to burn the house down when they're cooking?

Who has the shorter attention span?

who is more likely to admit that they are wrong?

Who is more likely to send an inappropriate message to another family member? (I couldn't help myself sorry😂)

Who is more likely to 'fake it till you make it' with a crush?

Who is more likely to use the other's things?

Who is more dramatic?

Who is more likely to embarrass themselves?

Who is most likely to trip while walking?

Who is more likely to buy things they don't need?

Who is most like to lock themselves out of the house/apartment?

Okay, that's all I got. (For now😂)

Sorry for making it so long.

Hi! Thank you so much for these! I love them lkjfskdlfjlk and you are seriously making me so happy. I love talking about these two!

What was their worst date together?

Lilac: *laughing while sharing a look with Ethan* It has to be that night you tried to take me to the Opera for Rigoletto. They didn't know we were coming so they donated your box that night like usually instruct them to do. Remember that night?

Ethan: *completely serious* I do. But I don't remember it as the worst date.

Lilac: No? We got all dressed up for nothing.

Ethan: Do you remember what happened after?

Lilac: We walked aimlessly until we ended up at the Common. They had Shakespeare at the Park. It was a production of Much Ado About Nothing.

Ethan: *nods* You got so excited because you said it was one of your favorites but you had never seen a production. You were just so... happy.

Lilac: *smiling tenderly at him* But your plan for the perfect date was ruined. I thought it was the worst date because you were disappointed.

Ethan: I planned to spend time with you. That's all I ever wanted and I got it. Plus more. That look on your face... It was worth everything.

What are their most repeated sentences or phrases?

Lilac: His infamous line about delaying the inevitable.

Ethan: Lilac constantly quotes long forgotten six second videos from 2015

L: Vines?

E: Precisely. Or she will quote literature quite impressively. There's no in between.

Who takes longer to get ready?

L: Me

E: Lilac.

L: But the end result is worth it, right?

E: You're worth any wait, darling. Yes.

Who spends more time on social media?

*They both point at Lilac without missing a beat*

Who is the better driver and who is the default passenger? (also, how were they like when the other first drove them somewhere? Like when Lilac first drove Ethan somewhere and vise versa? )

L: Ethan! I refuse to drive in this terrifying city again with Massholes on every inch of the road.

E: *snorts* Massholes? Very accurate. The first time Lilac drove, I prayed for the first time in years.

L: You're so dramatic.

E: She has no concept of speed limit, turn signals, or stop lights.

L: I'm from California! We don't make full stops.

Who is better at fashion?

E: My wife, thankfully.

L: I coordinate his outfits daily. He was hopeless before he met me.

E: *scoffs* I was not hopeless. I just didn't spend valuable time choosing what to wear.

L: Babe, you wore a polka dot tie with pinstripe trousers.

E: I don't see the issue.

L: *stares open-mouthed at him, almost as though she is reconsidering her life choices*

Who is the biggest flirt?

E: Lilac. She even does it without realizing it. L: It's not that bad. E: No? Miss You Can Give Me Private Lessons. L: That was a rare occasion of me breaking out of my shell. *but she can’t keep a straight face* E: And let's not forget that half of the interns have a crush on you. It's annoying. L: More like 65% have a crush on me. The other 35% have a crush on you. E: They're setting their sights too high. L: *laughs* You become Chief and suddenly you’re unattainable? Luckily I met you when you were a nobody, world famous doctor.

Who sings better?

E: Me. L: Ouch, you could've pretended to think about it. E: I wouldn't have fooled either of us.

Who usually wins an argument?

E: Lilac. She grew up with the most argumentative siblings ever. Add to that her signature stubbornness and she sees most arguments to the end.

L: The secret is to kiss him when things aren’t going well for me.

E: That too.

Who usually finishes their food faster?

*They both point at Lilac without a moment’s pause*

Who is more likely to burn the house down when they're cooking?

*They continue to point at Lilac, adding extra flair for emphasis*

Who has the shorter attention span?

*They hesitate*

L: Neither of us?

E: In our line of work, we’d be in trouble with a short attention span.

Who is more likely to admit that they are wrong?

L: Ethan. He’s gotten so much better about this through the years. I’m so proud of him.

Who is more likely to send an inappropriate message to another family member? (I couldn't help myself sorry😂)

L: Ethan accidentally sent his father a text that was meant for me. Luckily, it was innocent. He was only asking me what was for dinner.

E: Your reply when I finally sent it to you was not.

Who is more likely to 'fake it till you make it' with a crush?

L: Ethan Jonah Ramsey. He pretended to be so suave with me during my intern year half of the time. The other half he teasingly insulted me, which is his way of flirting.

E: Bold of you to assume I had a crush on you back then.

L: *arches a brow at him*

E: *breaks and laughs despite himself*

Who is more likely to use the other's things?

E: Lilac. She uses my shirts all the time.

L: They’re a badge of honor. I have to tell that world I’m sleeping with you somehow.

E: That’s implied given that we’re married.

Who is more dramatic?

*Lilac points at Ethan instantly. After some hesitation, he points at himself too with the ghost of a smile*

Who is more likely to embarrass themselves?

*Their fingers remain on Ethan, both thinking of the time at the end of her intern year when he almost told Naveen all about how Ethan had slept with Lilac.*

Who is most likely to trip while walking?

*They switch their fingers to Lilac*

L: I learned my lesson about what shoes not to wear to work.

Who is more likely to buy things they don't need?

*They continue to point at Lilac*

E: We have more soaps, socks, essential oils, and candles than anyone needs in a lifetime.

Who is most like to lock themselves out of the house/apartment?

*They point at Ethan now*

L: Only because I convinced him to switch to an electronic door lock.

E: I hate the damn thing.

#Sorry I have one more ill post tomorrow!#newlyweds game with your host bree #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey #Lilac Allende #Ethan x Lilac

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mendesblurb · 3 years

Text

Show me your phone

GIF CREDITS TO OWNER AND MAKER @dreamofwonder

Shawn Mendes x female reader

Warning: fluff, maybe grammar error and maybe some punctuation errors

Oh My God! You thought to yourself. This was the day. Its finally here. The day you and your husband had been waiting for a while now. It was finally here.

Your nerves were absolutely racking and your heart was beating fast. the test showed you 2 lines. YOU WERE PREGNANT.

You looked at the pregnancy test again and the other two that sat on the vanity, all positive. Now it was time to tell Shawn the news.

“We’re going to have a what?” Shawn asked, his face turning up toward you.

He was sitting on the bed with his back against the headboard, having some much needed relaxing time after being in the recording studio all day.

You’d discovered you were pregnant this morning after he’d left for work and decided to keep the news until he was home.

For the time being you kept your news a secret from the media, afraid of the possibility of things happening on the first trimester. So you started going out in baggy clothes so the paparazzi will not know and throwback photos became a thing in your Instagram feed.

However, you knew that sooner or later it would be discovered, it didn’t worry you too much, but you wanted to feel comfortable first with the idea of having a growing human inside your belly and also because Shawn and you are a pretty private couple.

————————-FOUR MONTHS LATER————

Tonight , Shawn was going to be interviewed on Jimmy Fallon’s late night show because of the recent release of his album “wonder.”

It was a routine that before one of you came on, the other would send a text message of encouragement and an occasional “I love you ” were sent along with it.

You: enjoy the talk show with Jimmy 😙

Shawn: thanks baby, love you 😘

You: love you too ❤️

Shawn: see you at home ❤️

You: send image

This time you decide to send a pic of you and Tarzan at the living room couch and the pic also displayed your growing bump.

You: see you at home Shawnie❤️, lots of love from me, Tarzan and little Mendes

As the crew began counting down the seconds before going live Jimmy sat down slowly and Shawn adjusted his jacket as he got comfortable in the chair.

“Now Shawn…” Jimmy started, leaning on his desk casually. “quite a bit has happened since the last time I saw you.”

He nodded slightly, a ghost of a smile on his lips, “Yeah it’s been a while dude.”

Jimmy laughed partially, “that’s right… the last time you were here you were single, and now you’re married.”

Shawn nodded as Jimmy continued, “now Wonder just came out a few weeks ago and it was a huge hit..”

Shawn smiled, “yup it did alright.”

The rest of the interview was great, Shawn talked about the highs and lows he experienced when creating the album and how all his songs were about you and how grateful he was to have you by his side through it all.

That night both Shawn and Jimmy were going to play ‘Show me your phone’, a game where they had to show whatever was hidden on their smart phones.

As the game was about to start, Shawn realised he wasn’t prepared at all. At this point he knew your secret is about to be exposed, I mean your whole relationship was not a secret but it was mostly private.

Both of you seem to have a habit of dropping the bombshell to your fans. Like that one time you finally made your relationship social media official, another time you secretly got married and now you’re secretly 4 months pregnant.

Now sitting across from Jimmy, Shawn could feel his heart pounding , and his hand began to feel clammy.

In front of them there was a red button, in the centre a tripod that will act as a phone holder and next to it was an electronic panel showing all the possibilities that could come up.

There was the icon for messages, Safari, photos , Instagram, Twitter, mail and call.

“Okay, you ready?” Jimmy asked and Shawn just nodded his head.

“Okay, for anyone who don’t know, here’s how game works. Shawn and I will take turns pressing the red button we have here, which will randomly select one of these icons we have on the board.”

After He explained how the game works , then he opted for Shawn to go first as he was the guest.

Laughter was heard among the audience as they saw the nervous glances that was displayed in both Shawn’s and Jimmy’s faces.

“FYI, neither of us know what’s behind each icon.” Jimmy looks at Shawn who was now laughing. “Let’s go and explore our phone.” Jimmy said

“Let the adventure begin,” Shawn said while trying to hide his face. “I think I forgot to clean my phone before the game.”

“You and me both dude,” Jimmy said laughing along with him. “Alright, here we go. Since you’re the guest you press first.”

“I am honoured ,” Shawn said sarcastically , which drew another laughter from the audience. “Here goes nothing!”

Shawn pressed the red button and quickly the icons on the panel began to light up and the light stopped specifically on the Safari browser icon, so that a text was displayed that said 'Show and tell us your last Google search’.

“Shawn if you could please show us your last Google search my friend.” Jimmy said while trying to control his laughter.

“Okay!” exclaimed Shawn grabbing his phone and heading to the app. “If I’m being honest I forgot what my last search was… Oh never mind!”

Shawn started laughing and tried to hide his phone, which only caused the audience to laugh hilariously.

"Okay, fine,” Shawn said as he put the phone down on the small platform. “I was just trying to do a kind gesture.”

The camera pointed straight at him, checking that his last search had been ‘nearest grocery store with Oat milk’.

The set erupted in laughter, Jimmy clasped his hands to his chest, laughing his head off.

“This- This is actually funny because it’s so specific but it’s actually very thoughtful,” he said between guffaws. “Did you end up buying it though?”

“I did!” Shawn said. “I found two brands and you know I was just trying to buy it because Y/N being a good wife she is wants me to start living a healthier lifestyle.”

“Awww,” Jimmy said . “Come on! Here we go. My turn.”

The panel came back on, the light moving between icons until it stopped on the photo app. Jimmy frowned, and the panel informed him that it should show the last picture he took on his phone.

“Come on, show us!” exclaimed Shawn encouragingly.

“I’m extremely scared,” said Jimmy with a serious and comical look on his face, reaching for his phone. “I am deeply embarrassed … Oh!” he began to laugh. “Okay, okay. This… is me trying to be a good Dad, don’t judge me.”

The picture showed Jimmy trying to pose with a random Snapchat filter and the caption was ‘Goodnight Frances & Winnie’ . In response the audience started laughing.

“All right, all right,” Jimmy held up his hands. “I have an explanation . The other day my wife said my kids won’t go to bed until I said goodnight to them and I was still on set.”

“That’s actually cool man!” exclaimed Shawn.

“Anything to put your kids to bed,” he laughed and picked up his phone.

“Show us your last text message” Jimmy read out eliciting cheers from the audience. “Come on!”

“Okay,” he began to laugh nervously. “It says there the last message I sent, in details too?”

“Well, just put the phone down,” Jimmy laughed.

“Okay,” Shawn started to look up. “Last text message…” he took a breath and looked at Jimmy hesitantly.“Oh here we go…”

Your last conversation appeared before everyone’s eyes, showing only the last photo you had sent him with Tarzan and your growing bump was present and the caption was the true bombshell of all.

“Wait, wait back up Mendes,” Jimmy said looking at him and questioning “little Mendes? Is this why she’s taking a break?”

The audience exclaimed a sweet 'aw’ again when they got a glimpse of the photo and Shawn was just widely smiling.

“This is really sweet!” said Jimmy looking at Shawn, “This is the best news ever.”

“I know, I know,” Shawn commented and nodding his head slowly.

“Do you know the gender?” asked Jimmy hesitantly, to which Shawn took another breath before replying.

“Yes we do,” Shawn laughed nervously. “We are going to have a baby girl.”

“There you have it, folks! The show is about exposing secrets! Thank you for watching, let’s all patiently wait for the arrival of baby Mendes.”

Shawn was seen hugging Jimmy as the camera flickered off, the curtains closing - concealing them from the screaming audience.

Taglist: @holland-styles @itsalwaysbeen305 @nervousmendes

TAGLIST & REQUESTS ARE OPEN

#shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fandom #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes story #shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes x y/n #Shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes one shot #shawn peter raul mendes #Shawn mendes blurb #Shawn mendes fanfic

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thetaoofzoe · 4 years

Text

FIC: Syverson the Protector Pt 4

* Syverson The Protector - Part I (pairing Syverson x YOU)

* Syverson the Protector - Part II (pairing Syverson x YOU)

* Syverson the Protector - Part III (pairing Syverson x YOU)

Summary: You are an embedded journalist and on a mission, everything goes wrong. The two of you have made it to safety and now it’s time for the healing to begin.

Rating for this part: Budding romance, Fluff, medical related content, I’ve picked ‘Henry’ as Syverson’s first name and he’s grown his hair out :D

Must be read in order, no part can stand alone. I expect to have at most, two more parts, 5 and concluding in 6.

Word count: 2293

Want to read more? Click for my Masterlist

Lying flat on his back, Syverson stared morosely at the ceiling and listened to the gentle thwapping sounds of the bedside machine that was currently and eagerly siphoning fluids out of his intestines. He let his mind tick over what the machine was actually doing to him and blearily considered why he wasn’t in constant pain from the electronic manipulation of his own vulnerable flesh.

Surely those plastic tubes driven into his guts should hurt, right?

Sure, you’re right, his mind chattered, a little giddy to be imparting an unknown bit of information, but consider this: morphine – a wounded man’s best friend.

My best friend, he thought and then as if the devil knew it was being called, another machine beeped and a flood of soft luscious haziness rushed into his bloodstream and he immediately relaxed. This tired mind drifted and it didn’t take long for him to slip back into sleep.

Hours later, Syverson startled out of a clinging and sticky dream with a desperate gasp. He felt hot all over, stiff and aching and the very thought of trying to move elicited a terrible pain response. Hot, oily bile crept up in his throat and his mouth watered in that awful familiar process of preparing him to violently empty his stomach.

I have to sit up, his brain screamed. I have to sit up. I don’t want to puke still lying on my back!

A broad cool hand pressed down on his chest and another closed about his shoulder. Someone was speaking but he couldn’t make out the words through the heavy veiling fog that enveloped him. He tried to speak to the person, and tried to tell them that he was going to be sick.

‘It’s ok, Henry,’ a voice was telling him. ‘You’re ok. I’ll help you roll onto your side if you need to vomit.’

Swallowing jerkily, throat working hard to force the urge back down, Syverson clamped his teeth and shook his head.

‘All right. How about we move you a bit. Are you ok with that?’

Move? God no. I can’t bear that. Moving meant pain.

He shook his head again, but the warm voice came back to him, sounding much more insistent this time.

‘I can help you, Henry, or I’ll put the positioner in bed with you and it will make you move. We want to prevent pressure sores, remember?’

Syverson took in a breath and after a moment nodded to show that he understood. When the man leaned in close, Syverson could smell his cologne. It was a pleasant and fresh woodsy scent that reminded him of his cabin back home. A sudden homesick ache tightened his chest and tears wet his dry eyes. He didn’t like feeling that way, but everything seemed to be out of his control now. He hated it.

Nevertheless, he put his arms around the man’s shoulders and gritted his teeth when his body was repositioned and stretched out again on the stiff mattress.

He gasped and couldn’t believe how out of breath such a small exertion had left him. But, he noted, he did feel better and the nausea had subsided.

The urge to eat suddenly struck him and he blinked up at the nurse.

‘What time is it?’ he rasped, voice rusty from disuse.

‘You hungry?’ asked the nurse with a grin.

‘Yeah, I could eat,’ he answered, wriggling a little to get more comfortable in the pillows under his head.

‘I can get you something, but it’s after breakfast and not quite lunch.’

Syverson nodded. He didn’t care. He just wanted to eat.

‘Fries and a coke, then,’ he said closing his eyes and grinning a little.

The nurse laughed and gently patted his shoulder condescendingly. With the state of Syverson’s gut, there was no way he was going to survive ingesting any amount of carbonation. That little fact didn’t stop the cravings though.

‘I’ll see if there’s some soup still left. I think it’s chicken.’

When he was alone again, the memories came back. After the jeep explosion, he was sure that he was going to die out in that sandy wasteland. Had it not been for you, he was sure that he would have died. Had it not been for the beautiful, plucky reporter, some stony faced military man would be paying his parents a visit to inform them of their youngest son’s passing and that his body would be flown home for burial.

Instead, he had been saved. And when he found that you’d been housed in the civilian wing of the hospital, he wanted to see you. He wanted to thank you for saving his life. When visiting you was denied, considering the fragile state of the both of you, Syverson had instructed that the well stocked gift shop be bought out and carted to your room, all with his heartfelt thanks.

He owed you his life. A few flowers and a couple of teddy bears was the least he could do.

The plastic and faux wood table rattled next to him and snapped Syverson out of his muse. He opened his eyes and watched as the nurse positioned the table over his bed and put down a ceramic bowl of steaming soup. He groaned and strained a little to help himself up into a sitting position.

The nurse was distracted and looking down into his other hand.

‘I ran into your girlfriend’s nurse in the hallway and she gave me this to give to you.’

God, he sounded so smug and Syverson wanted to punch him square in the face.

Girlfriend?

His brain searched for a face to put to the name but came up empty. He’d broken up with his ex more than five years ago, right before his latest deployment. And then it clicked.

The reporter. You.

The nurse handed the card to Syverson and upon seeing it, his heart sank. It was the same envelope that he’d sent along with the gifts. Had you refused his outpouring of affection? He slowly opened the envelope and breathed out with relief when he saw the new message that had been written for him.

He didn’t want to smile at the note in front of the gossipy nurse, as he didn’t want to encourage any nonsense rumours, so he kept his elated reaction to himself. But inside his heart soared and the soup tasted better than anything he’d ever eaten before.

The day that you both championed and dreaded finally arrived. The day you could get out of bed on your own and walk down to the men’s wing to pay your captain a visit. He had come a long way, you’d heard from the nurse, but would still have trouble doing any taxing travelling. However you were well enough to make the trip.

‘That is, if you still want to,’ said your nurse with a glint in her eye.

Oh, she thinks she’s funny, does she?

You sighed luxuriously and stretched back on your pillows. You’d managed to wrangle an extra set so that you could prop yourself up like a royal lady taking in visitors for the afternoon. You ran the edge of your thumbnail across the thick scar skirting the side of your left palm, scratching it lightly but thoroughly. You had recently had your bandages removed and the sight of your hands was shocking. The backs of your hands had taken the brunt of the burns and they were wrinkled with scar tissue which butted up against new skin growth. A daily cream was a must to keep the tissue from tightening up and preventing normal usage of your hand. You scooped up a handful of the waxy smelling stuff and massaged it into your hands as your nurse watched you expectantly.

Her expression fell a bit when you didn’t answer right away.

Serves her right, you thought, casually kneading fingertips into the palm of your opposite hand.

‘I mean, you don’t have to, if you’ve changed your mind.’

She picked at a bright yellow rose bud that had fallen off of one of the new crops of flower bouquets. Henry had made sure to keep you flush with fresh beautiful flowers. You had to draw the line at the character balloons, and had to tell him that he should stop sending them because the hollow sounds of them knocking together at night was creepy and it kept you awake.

‘I haven’t changed my mind, Barb,’ you said and gave her a smile.

I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life to see him again.

‘Well, good. He’s been asking after you… like… constantly now.’

You said nothing, but a tiny grin stretched your lips.

Constantly?

‘We can whip out the chair and wheel you over there after lunch.’

Your heart leaped with sudden and visceral terror.

It’s soon. So soon. Too soon! Today?

You swallowed hard and felt your face heat with uncertain embarrassment.

‘S-sure.’

‘Ok, I’ll reserve one and be back in a few hours.’

Barb turned around and left the room. You could hear her chuckling as if this matchmaking was the best thing that had happened to her all year.

You sat up in bed, greasy hands limp in your lap and you made a face when you sniffed at yourself under your hospital gown. No way were you going to present yourself to Henry, or anyone else who would be in the day room, looking like you’d been in an accident.

Heaven forfend.

So, you washed carefully and put on the pale peach coloured long-sleeved pyjama set you’d received from the Ladies’ Supply. The Ladies’ Supply was an organisation of volunteer women who ensured the dignity and comfort of women at the military hospital through social visits, clothing donations and other feminine needs.

You did your hair the best you could and whiled away the hours until you heard the squeaky wheelchair being rolled into your room. With heart crashing excitedly against your ribs, you perched delicately on it and Barb rolled you away.

The day room was spacious and welcoming and abuzz with activity. Some of the men were still hooked to IVs and sitting by the wide windows and others who were more capable were dispersed amongst the tables either reading or playing cards or just talking with each other. There were also some women in there, so you didn’t feel like you were entering the lion’s den. You spotted Henry by one of the card tables and you wanted to put your feet down on the floor to stop Barb from rolling you right up to his side. Unfortunately, you didn’t do it in time and when you squeaked to an unceremonious halt at the edge of the table, he glanced up from his cards.

The look on his face when he recognised you was one that you would store in your memory for an eternity. He put the cards face down on the table and made to stand up. You immediately put up your hands to stop him.

‘No, no, don’t get up, you don’t–‘

But, he had already struggled to push himself up and out of the chair and you didn’t want to take that victory from him. You stood up as well, ready to give a firm friendly handshake, or a paltry pat on the shoulder but he had other intentions. He dragged you into his arms, and crushed you to his meaty chest, before you could manage to say, hello.

When he finally let you go, you both went back to your respective seats, feeling overwhelmed by the perfect greeting.

Grinning at him, you made a gesture to your own head.

‘Your hair… it’s all curly!’

The last time you’d seen him, his hair was shorn right to the head, and there was really no hint as to the texture or really even the true colour. So it surprised you to see a neatly clipped mop of glossy brown curls. Henry put a self conscious hand into his hair and ruffled his fingers through it.

‘I like it,’ you assured him, hoping to put him at ease. ‘I like it a lot.’

Grabby hair, your brain chittered. Perfect length for grabbing.

With that the two men who had been playing cards with him at the table, picked up and left, taking the not so subtle hint that they should leave the two of you alone.

‘I’m glad to see you. Finally,’ he said, wincing a little when he shifted in the chair.

‘Does it still hurt?’ you asked, reaching out to put your hands over his on the table.

‘I’m getting over it,’ he said, dodging the question effortlessly.

He turned his hands up to hold onto yours and you felt as shy as a virgin on a first date. So, what could you do but make a joke the break the tension.

‘I mean… if I had to get blown up to get a date with you in a hospital day room, don’t know if I would do it again. Ehh, I probably would.’

Your eyes swept up to his and he stared at you a moment, puzzled and when you gave him a little hesitant smile, Henry started to laugh. The sound it lit you up with happiness and then the awkwardness was broken.

You spent about an hour chatting and if you were honest, most of it was spent flirting, until you started to feel tired.

You didn’t want to overstay your welcome and he seemed disappointed (much to your juvenile delight) when you said that you were leaving.

‘Tomorrow then?’ he asked, big blue eyes bright and eager, his hands unwilling to let you go again.

‘Yes, tomorrow.’

-End part 4

#henry cavill #captain syversion #syverson x you #henry cavill x you #captain syverson x you #syverson the protector #reader insert

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

selfie | jjk | 2

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Is this a rom-com, slice-of-life drama with unsolicited social commentary about gender stereotypes, idol music, and the meaningless meaning of the word, “adult”? Yes. But also, Jeon Jungkook shouldn’t be in love with his hyung’s little sister and he is. Shit.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of depression, anxiety, loneliness; fluff, but also frustrating because flirt already, sheesh; loons-to-lovers; non-idol!AU - oppa’s bestfriend!Jungkook x SHINee fangirl!reader

happy lunar new year!! year of the ox - jk’s lucky year <3

–

previous episode.

2. in which the two loons getting somewhere, only for more misunderstandings to happen.

Is this too much?

You stared at the picture and the message. Jeon Jungkook once again. Sending a picture of himself at the gym. It was a while since the last one, so his hair was slightly longer now. Was he growing it out? Oh well, none of your business. You sent your usual reply.

You sighed and went back to your journal, only to have your phone aggressively sing ‘3 PM’ from the Animal Crossing New Leaf OST. Directly asking for a video call this time. You thinned your mouth into a line and closed your journal, sliding it out of frame before accepting the call.

Jungkook’s big brown eye filled up the screen, directly on the camera.

“Why don’t you respond like a normal person?”

“Why don’t you start conversations off like a normal person?” you shot back, placing a hand on your cheek and leaning against it. There was stationery scattered all around you, but your journal was behind the charging stand.

Jungkook withdrew his eyeball, frowning. You could see his entire face now, his long black hair tied up into a silly sprout on top of his head. He was still wearing the dark gray sweatshirt from the photo, but he seemed to be in his apartment. All you could see was the wall.

“What about the pic though? Is it too much?”

“Too much what?” you responded irritably.

He waved his hand, shaking the phone with his movement. “You know… Too, ‘Hey I work out and am attractive, pay attention to me’ much?”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re not even looking at the camera. Or wearing a sleeveless shirt.”

He blinked at you. “Should I?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, those are things not to do. Picture is fine,” you added, shifting some pens away so you could rest your head on your forearms.

“Oh.”

He looked uneasy for a second before the camera jostled around as he scurried to a different part of the room. You puffed your cheeks and closed your eyes, not wanting to get motion sick.

“I’ve been playing Persona 5!” Jungkook said cheerfully, making you open your eyes to see him directing the camera at his television where the Persona music was merrily playing. “Just finished Sakura Futaba’s Palace.” He switched the camera back as you smiled and gave him a thumbs up.

“Nice.”

Jungkook seemed to spy your deflated form on your desk.

“What’s wrong?”

You breathed out. “Nothing.”

He frowned. “Doesn’t seem like nothing.”

You shrugged. “Just thinking.” Your eyes flickered to him, smirking a little. “You wouldn’t know about that, I suspect.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes. Other than that, he didn’t react to your remark.

“Thinking about what?” he asked, leaning back into his gray couch. His long hair flared out, sprout blooming against the cushions.

Your eyes shifted to the pens all over your desk. To your tablet, where you had been practicing digital drawing for a little while now. Just little drawings of cute animals, no people yet. To your journal, where you had been writing your diary entry.

“Lonely.”

You said the word without thinking. It was the title of your diary entry. You hadn’t meant to say it, but it was the only thing on your mind right now. Your eyes flickered back to Jungkook, who was watching you carefully. You sighed, feeling the need to explain yourself.

“All my friends are busy with school and their jobs. Oppa is always at work or with his girlfriend. Parents are always working.”

You could feel the distance between you and your high school friends. They were chasing your dreams and you were chasing nothing at all. You weren’t distant from your brother, but you were respectful of how much time he wanted to spend with his girlfriend. She might become his future wife someday, after all. Would you have a future husband one day? You wondered what he would be like.

You shook your head and shrugged. “But I did it to myself by taking a gap year, so it can’t be helped.”

“It’s okay to feel lonely.”

Slowly, your gaze shifted back to Jungkook. He was getting up from the couch, holding the phone up as he walked to what looked like the kitchen.

“I mean, you can’t help what you feel, right?” he said as he set the phone in a cupboard and went to the fridge. “Feeling lonely isn’t some kind of crime, so you don’t need to lock it away or anything.”

Jungkook picked up a take-out container and opened it, stiffing the contents. He seemed to be debating if it was edible or not. How long had that been there? You wanted to ask but then again, you didn’t want to know. Jungkook shrugged and dumped the mysterious contents into a bowl.

“I’ll talk to you whenever you want.”

You scoffed. “Why would you do that?”

Jungkook placed the bowl in the microwave and set the timer. The machine hummed as he turned around.

“To prevent you from feeling lonely.”

A butterfly danced in your chest.

You chuckled. “Why would I want to feel annoyed instead of lonely?”

Jungkook shrugged, taking out some chopsticks. “At least you have someone to be annoyed at instead of being alone?”

Two butterflies danced in your chest.

You huffed and rested your cheek on your forearms.

“Have you been talking to your Confidants?”

“What?”

“In Persona 5.”

“Who?”

You slapped your forehead. “Listen up, you monkey…”

“I’m an ox in the zodiac.”

“I mean your monkey gameplay…”

You began to explain the importance of Confidants in Persona to Jungkook.

That’s how you ended up in video calls with Jeon Jungkook several times a week.

He would usually start the call by sending a selfie, to which you would respond with your usual question mark. He was going to university for graphic design and worked at an electronics store part time. You, on the hand, were doing nothing. Well, not nothing, because you were clumsily learning digital art, but unless you were showering, you were always by your phone. Checking idol social media, especially SHINee. Sometimes your brother and his girlfriend asked you to accompany them to dinner, but you always declined, because being the third wheel was weird.

Also, watching your brother in love was weird.

Bleh.

“They always make out in front of me,” you were telling Jungkook as he asked why you weren’t at dinner earlier with your brother and his friends. Your brother had taken his girlfriend, of course. “It’s weird.”

Jungkook winced. “Yeah, I get what you mean. But I was there.”

“So what?”

Jungkook raised his hands. He was in his bed, rolling around in gray sheets. “Maybe you care?”

“I’d like to be spared watching oppa’s PDA, thanks.”

As usual, you were at your desk. This time your tablet was in front of you. You pushed the pen around, indecisively drawing lines and undoing your last action, twisting your mouth to one side, not really looking at Jungkook. He wasn’t doing anything of note, anyway.

“You don’t like PDA?”

You shrugged. “It’s whatever. I don’t really care.”

“What are you drawing?”

“Nothing good,” you sighed, putting down the tablet pen. The little cat character looked back at you, its expression the same bored and dispassionate face you usually had. You hadn’t really decided on a color for it yet. Maybe gray. That’s how you usually felt, anyway. You knew the collar color was going to be aqua though. A nod to your SHINee obsession.

“Show me.”

“No.”

“Come on.”

You looked up to Jungkook’s smile. There was a radiance about it. You felt the two butterflies dancing in your ribcage once again, fluttering, fluttering. His two front teeth where just ever so slightly too large for his mouth. It was endearing, like seeing a bunny. You looked back down at the little cat you created. Maybe you would make a bunny for Jungkook.

Pfft.

Why would you do that?

You laughed, confusing Jungkook as you placed your hand over your mouth, eyes squinting as you chortled to yourself, trying to imagine Jungkook as a silly little bunny. Probably one that worked out too much and drank banana milk every day. Probably loved to take selfies too. A cool bunny who wrote sunglasses sometimes and was probably altruistic and interesting.

Not like you.

Your laughter died down, eyes on the cat. You picked a cat to represent you because it was lazy and didn’t do much. Spent all day sleeping and staring outside, but never actually trying. Curious about things, but never committing.

“What’s so funny?” Jungkook asked, lifting the camera and holding it above him. You saw his long black hair flare out around his head. He was casually handsome, the kind of attractive that didn’t need much to be that way.

That’s weird. Why would you think something like that?

“Your face,” you replied, missing the usual bite you usually had behind your words. “You need a trim.”

He raised his eyebrow, pursing his lips. “You don’t like long hair?”

You pointed at the phone even though he probably couldn’t tell what you were pointing at. “The ends of your hair are splitting. It’s not going to grow well at this rate.”

“Are you a secret barber or something?”

“I’m a human being who cuts her own hair,” you replied impassively, sitting back in your chair.

Jungkook looked surprised. “Really? Since when?”

“Since the last time oppa attempted to cut my hair in high school.” You cringed at the memory.

Jungkook looked apologetic and ready to burst out laughing at the same time. “He tried his best.”

“He did not,” you retorted, remembering the botched bangs and blunt shoulder length cut. It was horrible. You went to the salon afterward and had it trimmed into a short pixie cut, because you would rather be bald than look like an overgrown coconut.

“The pixie cut was cool though.”

“Eh.” You shrugged. “Too hard to cut it by myself. Need some length to hide my mistakes.”

“Your hair always looks nice though. A little messy.”

You touched the top of your head self-consciously. Maybe you should start brushing it before accepting his calls. You didn’t really brush it that often because, well, who was going to see you? You basically only brushed it when you noticed a tangle.

Jungkook was smiling at you. His dark brown eyes seemed sparkly because of the overhead lights in his bedroom. The butterflies in your ribcage circled each other, looping round and round. You made a disgruntled face, reaching up read the current time at the top of your phone.

“Don’t you have class early tomorrow? Go to sleep.”

And then you pressed the end call button.

For some reason, relief and disappointment washed over you. Relief because there was a palpitating anxiousness you felt when you looked too directly into Jungkook’s eyes. Disappointment because maybe you shouldn’t have hung up so abruptly. That was a little rude.

You noticed you had a text. From Jeon Jungkook.

Good night.

Jungkook placed his phone beside him after he sent the text. He thought about sending a selfie too, but maybe that was too much. She had just seen him seconds before, anyway.

Why had she hung up like that?

He smiled as he remembered her laugh. He liked her laugh a lot. She hid it behind her hands and her eyes always squinted when she did so, nearly making them disappear. It looked a little bit like a cat when it was purring in satisfaction. Jungkook wondered what made her laugh like that. It must have been a thought, because he could see her face changing as she observed him. When she stopped laughing, her face was different too, becoming introspective.

She looked pretty today too.

Her hair a little messy, combed through with her fingers. That’s how it looked best, he thought. She had a natural prettiness, the kind that needed no help to be that way. Every action she did seemed cute, from the way she held her pen, to the way she twisted her mouth to one side when she was working on something, to the way she touched the top of her head, lips parting in thought.

If she wanted to be a model, she probably could.

At least, Jungkook wanted to take her picture.

He frowned a little. He’d been consistently sending her selfies before calling her and she always responded with a question mark. Maybe she wasn’t used to taking selfies? Or maybe, and what was more likely, she probably didn’t even care about them.

Jungkook exhaled, flopping to his side. Should he give up? But then he remembered her face right before she looked at the time. It was like she was staring at the screen, at his face. And for a split second, he swore he saw her upper lip upturn a bit, shyness in her gaze, a bit of pink flushing her cheeks. Was it just the lightning or something? His mind playing tricks on him?

“Bleh.”

Jungkook made a weird noise and plopped his face into his pillow.

Jungkook stopped calling you.

You wondered why. You had been kind of rude to him last time. Maybe he was mad at you? Maybe he wanted an apology? But you weren’t really sure what to apologize for. And it was weird to call without a purpose, right? And besides.

You didn’t really need to apologize to Jeon Jungkook.

He wasn’t even really your friend. He was your older brother’s friend.

You chewed on your lip, staring at the last picture he sent you. He wasn’t your friend. He was… well, what was he trying to do? Why was he talking to you? Maybe he was bored. Maybe he was nosy. You did say you followed his art Instagram, so maybe he was enthralled with the idea of knowing he had a fan or something?

But you weren’t a fan, per se.

Well, a little bit. He was really talented.

But not that much!

Because Jeon Jungkook was kind of annoying. He still hadn’t returned Persona 5 to your brother. Not that your older brother noticed, at all. He never finished Persona 5 and it was mostly your game now, with how many hours you had sunk into it. Jungkook hadn’t even known about Confidants until you told him. Hmph. Didn’t he look up game guides? Well, he should. Confidants were really important to the game. They helped you with useful abilities during boss fights by developing relationships with the other characters.

You stared at the last selfie Jungkook had sent you.

You kind of wished he was looking at the camera.

Maybe you needed a Confidant. You certainly didn’t really know how to develop relationships with anyone, except maybe your older brother. But that was because he was your brother and familial responsibility. Well. Not true. Your brother was really nice to you.

That’s why you folded his underwear for him, even to this day.

Sigh.

Jungkook did like SHINee though.

At least that was one thing in common, right?

next episode: 3. in which only a major event can bring these two loons back together – SHINee is back!

masterpost

#jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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dzamie-oc · 3 years

Text

06 - Mech

Ah, aren’t Synths wonderful? Modular, and you can make them do gender and sexuality in whatever way you please.

Length: 2200 words Rating: M (no sex actually happens, but genitalia are discussed a lot) Summary: A woman and her robo-derg go shopping for some parts to spice up their bedroom activities.

Minors DNI, please. It’s rated M for a reason.

-----

Lauren and her Synth, Haskell, stood at the entrance to the robotics store. It wasn’t an official outlet for his manufacturer, so they would technically be voiding his warranty, something that might have concerned them if he had still had one. As it was, however, the reason they simply stood there was less robotic and far more human.

[I told you for weeks, I’m only going in after you,] Haskell said, his primary lights a mirthful yellow against his blue and light grey plating, [watching your face go through so many emotions is well worth the delay.]

The human gently shoved him, her face hot with a blush. “Shut up, I’m getting to it.”

[Would it help if you pretended we were here to look at different parts?] The synthetic dragon took a couple steps forward, peering at the shelves. [I wonder if they’ve got a simulation link set up for a naga lower half. Oh, don’t worry, Lauren, it’s well outside of our price range, I’d only be demoing in VR. You won’t have to worry about my tail wrapping you up in your sleep any more than it already does.]

This did not in any way help Lauren’s blush, but she did stomp forward and stubbornly cross the threshold into the store. Haskell’s visor displayed blue carets for his eyes as he followed her inside. On a side thread, he bragged to other synths in their IRC chat room how positively adorable his owner looked after some well-placed teasing, and he received some encouragement, and a link to an image of a synth with a hand at the end of her tail giving him three thumbs up.

“Hey, you two!” one of the employees, a two-tailed fox, called, “good to see you again. Haskell, how’s that projector module treating you?”

“Oh, hey Shay!” Lauren replied, her nervousness instantly abated. “It’s been real useful. Now we don’t have to settle for my desktop’s monitor to watch stuff together.”

[Or my visor.]

“That was ONE TIME. Anyway, thanks for the recommendation, and... half un-thanks for telling Haskell that it’s so port-neutral.” The human jabbed a thumb towards Haskell. “Nothing quite like walking back from the bathroom to see this guy on the bed, zero legs, with a My Little Pony AMV projecting out the bottom of his torso onto the opposite wall.”

Shay looked on the verge of laughter. The blue and grey Synth scrossed his arms and turned his head up and away, while his visor displayed a gentle U shape on each side. [My taste is far beyond you organics’ comprehension. Time will vindicate me.]

“A blast and a half, I’m sure. Anyway, what brings you two back in? Looking for hardware or software?”

“Oh. Uh, hardware,” Lauren said.

[In more ways than one,] Haskell added, to a returning and deepening blush on his owner’s face.

The fox furrowed her brow, then a look of comprehension crossed her face. “Ohhh... well! Let me go grab Conny, and she’ll show you to that rather special workshop.” She strode over to a door behind the counter, stuck her head in, and shouted, “Ay Conny! Got a customer for the fun stuff! Come and get ‘em!”

A few seconds later, a synth head popped out from behind the door, pale red around a dark visor featuring a slit-pupil eye display. “The fun stuff? Oh, must be the human lady and the blue bot. Come around and follow me.”

Haskell and Lauren shared a look at the prospect of walking behind the registers, but after a moment, Haskell shrugged and followed the other Synth through the employees door, with Lauren behind him, mindful of his tail. [She pinged me over short-wave, said it’s standard enough for this sort of thing,] he explained.

Conny turned out to be not only a pale red, but an entire slightly-desaturated rainbow from head to foot. Her tail had fewer segments than Haskell’s, but was the same length, so he assumed it was some storage model. When she turned from the hallway into a side room, something rattled in her tail, and he mentally congratulated himself on the guess. The human and Synth also stepped inside, and were immediately surprised at what they saw.

It was clearly a Synth workshop, with a sturdy table, a selection of mechanical and electronic tools on one wall, and a number of wires for fast data transfer. But what was unusual to the pair was a solid half of a wall featuring artificial penises and vaginas. Haskell quickly switched his primary lights to a reddish pink to fit the room, same as he saw Conny do. Many of the genitals were clearly modeled after other species; Haskell quickly identified pairs resembling those of dolphins, wolves, nagas, and several kinds of dragon. But some were purely fantastical, or even designed to look congruous on a Synth. On the opposite wall hung various erotic chestplates, although those weren’t nearly as varied in their design. Haskell’s attention did linger on a pair that featured a port on each breast where the nipple would be on a human or anthro, and the thought spurred him to link a photo to the IRC, followed by “consider: boobs that can grab you back.” To his surprise, one of the other denizens shared that she had a model like that, and joked that she’d share photos for five bucks.

[So! My name is Delilah Conagher, but you can call me Conny,] the rainbow Synth said, [and this is where we keep the lewd. Now, you don’t have to answer this, but this is gonna be for you two? Or has...] A request for information appeared in Haskell’s comms; he let her see his name and pronouns. [Or has Haskell come with his owner, but plans to use this stuff on someone else?]

[Oh, I sure hope this is for us. Otherwise, I’m gonna be pretty let down after all that flirting we’ve done to each other.]

[Faaaaan-tastic. Now, what’re we kitting you out with?] Conny’s eyes curved up and a few twinkling stars blinked in her visor, a common sign that a Synth thought they were about to be very funny. [Are you getting a dongle, port, or rack?]

Haskell laughed, but Lauren, though smiling, looked mildly perplexed. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Haskell laughed louder. Conny, however, just shook her head, though her lights fading to yellow as she did so signaled her amusement. [I could guess, but the guess with the highest accuracy is only 72%. If Haskell was using she/her, that drops all the way down to 43%.]

Now it was Haskell’s turn to be confused. His visor showed eyes looking up and away with one brow slightly down, as he remarked, [43 sounds low for four... well, five options with rack only. Surprisingly even distribution.] Lauren turned to him with a clear question on her tongue, so the Synth answered it for her, counting off on his fingers. [Dick or pussy, each with and without tits. Plus a fifth for just the tits. I’m still on the default “pan” from when we installed the sexuality software, so I happen to have saved plenty of examples to show you if you don’t believe me. Not all Synths, even. Only most.]

The human shook her head. “N- um... maybe later. But, Conny, we’re getting him a... a penis.”

Without audio, Conny sent Haskell a message saying, “Assuming only one between the legs or one set on the chest is sensible, but inaccurate. A good mechanic can do wonders.” Aloud, she addressed Lauren. [Wonderful, those are fun! And all of the designs here are made to be pleasurable to the giver and receiver - trust me on this - so there’s no bad answers, although there may be some better ones for each Synth. So, anything you’re looking for for your first one?]

“First one?”

[We’re modular,] both Synths said at once.

“Oh, right. Uh... well, I think I’ll pass on the... fleshy-looking ones. I think they’d clash with his body, and feel too different than- uh, nevermind.” As Lauren’s voice trailed off, Haskell put on a rather smug and pleased look.

Not missing a beat, Conny grabbed a small selection of more robotic-looking schlongs from the wall and set them out. [Now, this one here’s a great one, both as a first time and in general. It’s not the simplest, but it’s got a vibrate function that’s insulated from the rest of the body.] She then picked up one that looked more obviously draconic, but still with a robotic aesthetic: silvery top, glossy black underside. [And this one is far and away my favorite, both in shape and novelty. Bit on the higher end for price, though, I’ll be honest with you. Doesn’t stop it from being popular with my return customers, though.]

Lauren tentatively reached out, and Conny handed the penis to her, letting her turn it over in her hand. “I mean, it’s certainly nice, but what gives it that price?”

In reply, the rainbow Synth popped one hand off, took the dildo back, and slotted it in. After a few seconds to recognize and prepare the device, the glossy black underside revealed itself to be an RGB light, slowly fading through a few colors. Haskell stared at it. Lauren, on the other hand, had a different reaction. “No. Absolutely not. I know you, Haskell, and there’s no way I’m giving you even half a reason to try to fuck me to Caramelldansen.”

[It’d be funny, though.]

“Not happening.” She pointed to one of the others. “That one looks nice, though. Haskell, how do you feel about that one?”

The blue and grey Synth nodded. [I think I’d look rather good with that on me. If you think you’d feel good with it in you, we should give it a shot.]

Conny looked between the two of them, then nodded at Haskell. [Then just hop up on the table and I’ll get you set up. Oh, that reminds me: I can also modify your lower chassis - a couple hundred, same as other port additions - to get you a proper crotch mount or two. Assuming you’re pretty standard, the best I can do is essentially a workaround where I plug it in the rear, behind your tail, and give you some fittings to secure it around your legs and/or waist.]

“It’s not necessary, though, right?”

Haskell laid down and soon felt the weight of his tail vanish, followed by a system notification that a module had been detached. The Synth mechanic kept talking. [No, but without it, Haskell will probably need or at least want your help to get the penis on and off.]

[Sounds worth it to me,] Haskell said.

“It’s not your $200.”

[Sure it is. You did tell me I could have my own account for stuff on the side. Remember, because I was ask- whining for- hold on. I was ask- whining for video games.] He gave Lauren a flat stare. [Really?]

Lauren held her hands up. “In my defense, I had forgotten I’d done that before I promised to stop touching your admin controls without telling you. But yeah, that’s fine then. Get yourself some penis compatibility.”

[Great! Alright, doc, fix me up!] Haskell said, then slipped himself into Safe Mode.

-----

[Oh, that looks fantastic,] the Synth said, admiring his new dick, [thanks for matching it to my colors.]

[I’d be a pretty poor mechanic if I couldn’t,] Conny replied, [but thanks. Now, go ahead and disable sensitivity in the device settings, or at least drop it as low as possible.]

[Huh? Doesn’t that go against the point?]

[Some modules can be equipped in public. This is not one of them. And trust me, you don’t want that thing anywhere near the default levels when you remove it, at least not until you’re used to the sensation.]

Lauren glanced down the hallway. “Yyyyeah, let’s not traumatize whoever’s in the store and potentially find out which of us is legally liable for you going streaking.”

Haskell nodded, and after a couple seconds, pulled the penis out of its socket, then fit a grey plate over the port, hiding it.

[And this should go without saying, but there are no returns on this sort of thing. If something goes wrong, you might get a partial refund if you send us the diagnostics, but once that dick is out of the store, we don’t want it back in here.]

Lauren took the cock and gave it a curious squeeze before placing it in the bag Conny had provided. “Fair enough. And will Shay ring us up out there, or...?”

[Yep! Alright, you two, have fun out there.]

As the two left the store after paying, Haskell linked a photo of the purchase he had taken earlier to his IRC friends. Some congratulated him on a well-chosen mod, a couple of them asked him to DM photos of it equipped, and one person floated the idea of attaching two of them to that pair of breasts with ports.

All in all, a productive day, and a precursor to a hopefully unforgettable night.

#dragon #anthro #furry #synth #smaugust #smaugust 2021 #furry dragon #mech #writing #writers on tumblr #text

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heckfick · 4 years

Text

Part one

The first call.

Word count:2k+

Pairing:Y/N x Feitan

Warnings:Swearing, mentions of death.

————————————

Y/N sat in her chair, silently leaning against the back of it. She stared blankly at the monitor before her, her mind utterly blank. Her father, her partner in crime, was out at the time and training didn't sound too pleasing at the moment. And, dispite having the surface, deep, and dark web all at her disposal, things got rather boring quickly. The same old drama, government files, and red rooms just weren't appealing anymore.

So, she sat there, staring at her setup. "Wonder what dad is picking up at the store." She thought, scanning her desk for a moment before grabbing her water bottle and twisting the cap off. "Our next client better be interesting at the very least." She hoped. She brought the plastic to her lips, taking a swig of water. When her and her father got a client, she was in charge of planning, and she wasn't always planning the same thing.

On occasion they were hired to be a bodyguard, occasionally an assassin. The jobs varied, there were some that they just wouldn't take and others that they were more than happy to do. Y/N was in charge of finding out the details, helping her father understand what was to be done, and she was the one to come up with what would be done. Of course, if they ever worked for a celebrity then she would tag along. Just to meet them, maybe get their autograph or a couple of pictures. She was more than capable to handle their business all by herself, though. She was strong and smart, talented in what she did.

Her father, however, wasn't able to work by himself. He needed an idea of how things were going to happen, it was just who he was. The more detailed the plan, the calmer he was and without any idea at all, he panicked. He was really the only one she had, so she stuck with him. She worked to keep things in check, and he reeled in clients and handled most of the dirty work.

These were the thoughts that crossed her mind as she zoned out, snapping out of her trance only when she heard the door open. "Speak of the devil!" Y/N shouted, even though she hadn't been actually speaking.

"We have a client!" He boomed, clearly happy.

She grabbed the arms of her chair, standing up to help him put away whatever he had gotten. "Really? Who is it?" She asked, curious as she walked out of her room.

"Come here, I wanna see your reaction." She rolled her eyes at this, knowing that he knew she was on the way. Nevertheless, she picked up the pace until she was in the kitchen.

She walked over, grabbing one of the bags that he set on the counter, digging through it and grabbing a loaf of bread out of it. Her curiosity was now peaked, she saw her father smiling wildly out of the corner of her eye, he was just staring at her. "Well?" She asked, turning her head to look at him better.

He was silent for a moment, it was clear that he was ecstatic, almost bouncing off the walls. "The Spiders." He said, there was a pause, but then she laughed.

"You really shouldn't mess with me like that." She giggled. The Phantom Troupe needing their services? What a crazy idea.

"I'm not fucking with you, they want our help taking out some bodyguards." He explained. She had never seen him this happy.

"You're serious?" She asked, he nodded. "The Troupe." She murmured, trying to take it in. "The Troupe." She said louder, finally getting grasp of the situation. "We're working with the fucking Phantom Troupe!" She screamed, immediately dropping the bread and wrapping her arms around her fathers neck, nearly crying with joy.

He spun her around, as if she were still a little girl and not an adult serial killer. They were excited for two different reasons, Y/N had always admired the Phantom Troupe, their witt, strength and ability to get a job done was almost unbelievable. F/N was excited for the opportunity, if they did well, then a group as well known as the Phantom Troupe recommending them was good for getting business. Dispite their different reason for being happy, they still spun in the kitchen.

He eventually bumped into the counter, however, causing them to stop. They let go of eachother, both of their faces still as happy as ever. "I told the man I talked to to email you, it was about a hour ago. As if on cue, one of her monitors let out a noise that signaled she had a notification.

"And your sure it's them?" She asked, just wanting one last assuring word so she didn't get her hopes up for nothing.

"You know I have my ways of making sure people are the real deal, now go answer him, he said that we'll move out in three weeks so make a good impression!" He said, turning around and continuing to unload groceries.

She turned as well, heading towards her bedroom. She had been with dozens of clients, each and everyone leaving some sort of impression. Very few flirted with her, which she didn't find surprising. This was a professional job, and they didn't offer those kinds of services, although many had asked. An unpleasant thought then popped into her head. "What if the one I talk to is a pervert?"

What if he flirted, would she flirt back? No, she was professional, and while connections did mean alot, almost everything. She wouldn't go as low as to going out with someone just for work. That's something she told herself after she reached eighteen, she didn't care who it was, she wouldn't do that just for work.

So, if he was a pervert, she was fully prepared to ignore it. As she entered her room, the notification was on the screen still. So, she sat down and clicked on it. Her thoughts had ruined the mood she was in, almost instantly.

Blue apple. Hot pink watermelon

This was the message that her father told whoever was on the other end to send, it confirmed that she was talking to the same person and not just a random person who thought it would be funny to email her. With each client came a different secret message, they were all random and some were rushed, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was that these helped.

Keep your fruit! For I have a lock of hair!

Be careful, for I only offer you one strand.

Y/N sent this message, followed by a link that would send him to her website, where he would have to enter yet another secret code that her father gave him. It didn't matter if he changed his account, the website wouldn't pop up anymore if he got it wrong he only had one chance. So, if he wanted to try again, he would have to go out and get an entirely different device.

On the same note, if he got it right, then as long as he stayed on whatever device he was using, he wouldn't have to enter the code ever again. She clicked on the link, her screen immediately changed. The website had a dark theme, it was simply easier on her eyes when she had to work late at night. She kept her eyes on the welcome back message, reading it even though she already knew what it said. There wasn't alot on her mind, now that her one main worry had taken over her mood, she thought of this as another job. Until she had talked to the man, just to make sure he wouldn't hit on her or anything of that nature, she decided to stay calm.

Y/N put on her headset, crossing her legs while in the chair.

She made sure that it was plugged in, adjusting the mic so that it was in front of her mouth. She just waited, staring at the screen for about a minute before a small rectangle popped up at the bottom, informing her that she was getting a call. She moved her mouse, hovering over the accept button for a moment, putting on a welcoming smile before clicking.

There was a few seconds of silence, as she scanned her face on her side of the screen to make sure she was looking half decent.

"Hello," she said, pausing as her gaze drifted over to the other side of the screen. "My names Y/N." She quickly took in his features, black hair that seemed wet. Maybe he just got out of the shower, or it could have been raining where he was. He seemed to be scowling, but she wasn't judging. Most of the time business made her grumpy, too.

"Feitan." He said, his voice sounding a little raspy.

"Nice to meet you, will there be anyone else joining the call?" She asked.

"No. I'll relay all of the information to to the others." He explained, leaning back onto the wall behind him. A dark hoodie and what she could only make out to be sweatpants were his clothing of choice, making her feel a little better about wearing a t-shirt and shorts.

She nodded. "Okay, got it. Would you mind explaining the operation?" She leaned forward, grabbing her binder and opening it, picking up the pen that simply laid inside.

"There's a man, he has some stuff we want. So we're going to go take it. He's said to have some skilled bodyguards. I'm sure we would have been able to handle it but Shalnark heard of you and wanted to see if it was worth what people paid for your work." Such a vague description,

"Mhm, could you give me a idea of where it is?" She ignored the last bit, not really caring why they were hired.

"Somewhere out east. It's called Bog Mansion."

She nodded, quickly jotting down this information. "Okay and now I'm going to need some info on the abilities of everyone whose going to be working with us." She prepared to start writing, but what she was asking for wasn't given to her.

"Why would I tell you that?" He questioned.

"I need to plan, that's the whole point of this call. I'll get and gather information, then I'll come up with a plan so you don't have to." She explained.

He considered it, eventually sighing. "I trust the person who wanted to hire you, but since it was his idea I'll leave it up to him to go kill you if you give our information away."

Y/N wasn't fazed, everything was classified of course, that's why she wrote everything on paper and not electronically. If it was stored electronically, you can never tell who has a hold of it even if you think it is only visible to you. "Would you like my address? Hell, I'll gladly deliver myself on a silver platter if I sell you out, of course I never will but still."

This caused Feitan to smile for whatever reason. "Okay, how about you tell me your ability as well. Your father already told me his so don't bother."

"Oh, my ability? It's nothing special I call it Satan's Zoo, and I just make animals with my aura. I have a pole that I use for close range fighting but it's in my closet somewhere." She glanced over to the closet in question. "Of course how many animals I make and the size of them both effect each other, but I can also modify animals it's a little difficult but I think I've gotten pretty good at it."

He took this in, being silent for a little bit as if he was thinking of what to say next. After about a minute he spoke up. "Will you be coming with your father with at a job?" He asked.

She was slightly taken back, of all things she expected him to ask this wasn't one of them. "Yes, I'd like to meet in person so I'll be tagging along."

"Then I would like to fight with you before we go to Bog Mansion." Feitan said calmly.

This was definitely unexpected, it left her speechless. A Phantom Toupe member thinking that she might be worth fighting? This was an odd honor.

"Your ability intrigues me." He said, perhaps trying to carry the conversation after seeing her speachless. "I'll try my best not to kill you. But I'd like to see your ability I person while your fighting against me rather than running into you in the mansion." He explained and all of a sudden her excitement returned.

"Really? You think I'm worth fighting?" Y/N asked, still star struck.

"Why do you sound so happy? I could kill you by mistake." He raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I've looked up to the Phantom Troupe for a while. The pure strength that all of the members posses is amazing and I strive to be like all of you. Fast, efficient and good at what I do." She was smiling from ear to ear, making no effort to hide her happiness.

Feitan seemed like an okay guy, focused on business from what she had seen so far.

"Your strange." He commented. "I've never met a Phantom Troupe fangirl." He snickered, but she wasn't insulted.

"Well now you have, maybe you should release merchandise I'm sure there are people who would buy it." This caused him to laugh again, and this time Y/N joined him.

"Anyway, back on track." She said. "Go on ahead and start explaining everyone's abilities and such please." She readied her pen, excited to fill up her page full of information about her favorite group of thieves.

—————————————————

A single page wasn't able to contain all of information. It took at least a full page front and back for each member, sometimes more. With five members the exact number of pages came down to eight pages front and back. Her wrist was used to writing nowadays, but this was the closest it had come to hurting in a while. It was almost overwhelming how much Feitan knew about his teammates. Although, the more she knew the more solid the plan could be but still.

"Well, I have to say Shizuku's ability seems most interesting." She commented, closing the binder. "But I would also like to see your umbrella." She said, sighing as she closed the binder, leaving the pen inside. "I'll do some research and see if I can get a layout of the building and some intel on the bodyga-" while sitting her binder down she removed her eyes from the screen for a split second, and in that split second he was gone.

"Uh, Feitan?" She asked. It was only a moment before he moved back into frame with the umbrella. He sat back down onto the bed, grabbing the handle and actual umbrella before pulling a few inches of the concealed weapon out.

"Wow! That's actually really cool." She said, staring at it for a moment. "Did you just have it laying around?"

He closed it, placing it beside his bed. "Yes, it's best to have a weapon close to you when theres people out for your head."

"Has anyone actually tried to assassinate you?" She asked, wondering who might be stupid enough to try and kill a member of the Troupe.

"A few, unfortunate souls down on their luck. I'm guessing that people have a pretty high bounty on us." He sighed, crossing his arms. "What about you?" He asked.

"Well, people have actually sent some pretty skilled assassins after me. Thankfully, no ones sent in the Zoyldic family yet!" She joked, placing a finger inbetween her two collarbones and starting to trace down. "A man with a sword actually got me right through here." She continued to trace the old scar, moving down until right below her chest, where it curved to the left. "I beat him, of course but he left me with a pretty nasty scar." Her hand returned to her arm rest.

"Now that I I've told you our abilities, what now?" He asked.

She dreaded her next sentence. Talking to him was actually more pleasant than most of her clients, so this would be a little more difficult to let go. "Well, you call me around this time tommorow and until then, I get to work! I'll figure out everything I can and use what knowledge you've given me to make a plan!"

Feitan pursed his lips. "Okay I guess."

"I'll talk to you later, just message me if you have any questions!" She smiled. "Goodbye!"

"Bye." And just like that the call was over.

Y/N grabbed up the binder, opening it up to a new blank page. She needed to impress him, get a good word in with the Troupe and she might be able to work with them again! This was so exciting. So, as her heart pounded in her chest, she got to work on figuring out everything she could about Bog Mansion and the people who lived within it.

#hxh #fanfiction #fanfic #feitan #feitan x reader #phantom troupe #hunter x hunter #anime

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estrxlar · 3 years

Text

The Ghost Of You

03 - Music Room 3007

Chapters songs:

*Dagger; Slowdive

On The Level; Mac Demarco

F song; Strawberry Guy

^^^ when including * in chapters next to a song, that means it is a song that will be performed in the chapter.

———

— Y.L. Perspective

"Sunshine girl is sleeping. She falls in dreams alone," sings Toruku in a calming tone into a microphone, along with the strumming of a guitar. "And me, I am her dagger. Too numb to feel her pain."

"The world is full of noise, yes. I hear it all the time. And me, I am your dagger. You know I am your wound." I join in, adding onto his

The words we sang were truly upsetting. About a boy, a lover, who is aware he's hurting the girl he loves. I couldn't compare any relationship I'd ever been through to those lyrics.

Although one had always caught my eye: "I didn't really lose you, I just lost it for a while." It was easy to automatically think of the boy I was duetting with when we covered this; for some time now, Toruku has had small feelings for me.

One of the things that repelled me from a relationship with him was the idea that it would end horribly, and that it would potentially ruin our relationship.

Not to mention how much drama that would cause for two other unproblematic teenagers who were only trying to make a living off of their talent: Hikishi and Giki.

But today wasn't about what would happen between the two of us— today was her day.

"I thought I heard your whisper, it happens all the time." And with that, the song is brought to an ending, followed by my gaze met with the blonde boy.

"That was, once again, better than before. But I feel as if it's missing something." He explains, as he removed the wooden instrument from his arm and leaned it against the bean bag he sat in.

Music room 3007 contained the following: I couple of bean bag seats, a coffee table, a vending machine, almost every instrument in existence in an extra storage room, tools used to record and analyze music, and posters + records we kept throughout the years.

Truth is, music room 3007 wasn't even really a part of the school anymore. Sure, it was still on maps and the district still paid the electricity, cable, and water bill. But barely any students or teachers paid much attention to it, for it was stuffed behind the gyms, which were two large buildings that would block out any view of the smaller one that stood behind it.

'I hope Sugawara won't have any problem with finding this place.' I think to myself, as I stand from the chair to turn the camera and microphone off.

We would set up different amps, microphones, and cameras when recording a cover of a song. This time, it was a basic acoustic from 1993, named 'Dagger' by Slowdive.

After turning it all off, I plop back onto the cushion. "I think we've don't this quite enough times already, 'Ruku. We should upload it already and get on to the second song. I mean, we've been here a whole hour trying to perfect 'Dagger'." I say, removing my uniform's blazer, and throwing it across the coffee table. Next came my tie, and I unhooked the first two small buttons of my white collared shirt. The music room got hot when so many electronics were in use.

"Maybe you're right. We should probably get onto another song." He replied, running his hands in the bridge of his nose and down his neck.

I quickly stand up from my chair and stand behind him, leaning onto his shoulders. "I think you're just tired. Are you sure you wouldn't wanna go home?"

Toruku runs a hand up my arm, patting my shoulder, then sighs heavily. I couldn't imagine how tired he must be after today. His thoughts must've been wearing him down. "Yes, I'm sure. Besides, I don't wanna leave you all alone."

"No need, Sugawara will help me get home, remember?" I ask him, followed by a moan of protest. It worried me that Sugawara and Toruku most likely wouldn't get along, especially since both seemed so compatible at first.

Both his hands leave mine and lay in his lap. "And what's with this Suga guy, Y/n? Is he your buddy?" His voice echoed through the band room, stabbing the back of my brain while I think for an answer that wouldn't sound suspicious. I would say no, but who knew what the future could hold.

"I dunno. But he means no harm! At least I think so.." Tired from squatting, I lift to stand on both feet properly. Toruku slides his hand away from my figure and brings it towards his face. It covers his mouth as he once again sighs. "You seem tired after today, Ruku. Is it because of Moku?"

Hopefully, I hadn't overstepped any boundaries with what I had said. Hopefully, I was remotely correct about why he looked so down. "Yeah, it is. I won't act as if it doesn't bother me because I know it bothers you too. Although it's been three years, I still feel very guilty for going on without her."

'At least he knows I'm here with him.' I thought, moving to the bean bag I had been in just a few moments ago. By her, I meant Torukus passed girlfriend, and my best friend: the reason I practically stopped living at the age of fifteen. Honestly, Toruku and I weren't even really that close. I knew her as her boyfriend and he knew me as her best friend. And as close as we were to her, we were never friends. Moku's death only brought us closer to each other, stirring up the beginning of a rock band.

"I know what you mean. I do. Thankfully, this birthday of hers went better than the last two, wouldn't you say?" I ask, leaning on my elbows that sat on my knees.

"Definitely. The previous ones all ended up in fights and long makeups. I guess we're just more laid back about it now," He explains, getting up from his seat, and browsing the instruments that were hung on the wall. His fingers wrap around his belt loops as he stands. "I feel bad for getting over her so quickly."

"I know exactly what you mean. Never forget that I'm right here next to you, Toruku. That we've gotten through this together instead of alone. Although I wish you had talked to me more when it had first happened, I was all alone!" I chuckle at the last part, even if it wasn't funny at all. "I think the life we made out of our relationship has turned out for the better. Look where we are now: moving to American in about a year to sign to a label. Wouldn't she be proud we've gotten so far?"

"Maybe you're right," Toruku says, leaning against the back wall. His hair danced over his eyes barely, as they stared right at me. "Maybe you should hit up Toru and Hajime, ask how they're doing. They went through this too, you know."

"Yeah, I know. I haven't because I'm afraid of what they'll say, or if they even say anything at all. They're both a part of a very different social class after all. If anything, I'll probably get a simple thumbs up on my message." My voice grows low, expressing my tiredness from this conversation already.

Toru and Hajime were two other people that used to be in my friend group with Moku throughout our childhood. Both were loud and expressive and played volleyball, but they were also very kind and friendly towards Moku, Toruku, and me. Once middle school had started, the five of us grew closer and closer by the second. We joined volleyball clubs, hung out at our houses practically every day, and grew popular throughout the years. But once Moku had passed, we all fell apart. She was what held us together after all.

Both Hajime and Toru decided to go to another high school, and Toruku and I went to another. After that, we hadn't heard a single word from them.

"It's worth a try, Y/n. We wouldn't want to seem inconsiderate." Toruku says as he pulls out a pack of cigarettes from his pockets, as well as a lighter. After lighting one, the smoke leaves his mouth slowly, as he continues. "I wish you would at least try to make amends between them. You were closer to them than I ever was."

"I'll try. Just not now."

———

After another hour of practice with Toruku, the two of us stood silent on our phones while we waited for Sugawara. Something told me that he had gotten lost. Either that, or he just forgot about me, which I wouldn't blame him for.

But right when I was about to tell Toruku that we should go home, a message from an unknown number had shown up on the top of my phone screen that alarmed me.

[Text Message: ###-###-####]

Hey, I can't find the music room. It's not on the school campus. Either that, or it's the most invisible classroom ever brought to this school.

[Reply to ###-###-####]

I'm assuming this is Sugawara? Sorry, I don't have your number saved. If otherwise, the wrong number.

After the second the message gave me a preview, I fully entered the screen. It had a profile picture, but not a contact name. Although, that was my very first-year-like of me to be irresponsible. [Sugawara] read the title after I'd edited it, and nothing more. Only a few brief messages that we had just sent to each other.

Sugawara

Hey, I can't find the music room. It's not on school campus. Either that, or it's the most invisible classroom ever brought to this school.

I'm assuming this is Sugawara? Sorry, I don't have your number saved. If otherwise, the wrong number.

Actually, right number! But seriously... I have no idea where the hell you are. Is it off-campus? I might just cry if I don't figure this out. I've been at it for a solid ten minutes.

Ten minutes?? Damn boy, you could've just asked to meet me in the cafeteria or something. Toruku and I have been waiting here for a while as well.

Sorry!!

No need to apologize.

- you have started sharing your location with {Sugawara}-

Thanks. See you in a bit.

After discussing where I was hanging, I decided to look more into this saved contact. 'Had I really been so close to him as to have discussions with him?' I think as I decide to read a few more messages above our most recent convo. They only consisted of homework answers, tutoring questions, and a few more comments about school festivals and such. A good ten invites to a volleyball game were stored in there as well. I hadn't realized how much he had meant to me just two years ago. Time flies, taking most of your memories with you.

A few more moments went by before a knock came upon the room's entrance door, as well as the voice of someone behind it. "Uhm— hello..? Is this the right room?"

"No, go away," Toruku replies in a deeper, scarier voice as he shuffled towards the door to reveal Sugawara standing there alone with a frightened expression.

Suga sighed, putting a hand over his chest while he smiled. "That gave me a heart attack." He says, fixing his eyes towards my sitting figure. "Ready to go?"

I nod, lifting from my seat and stretching out my arms while yawning loudly. "God, I'm tired," I mumble to myself, gathering my bag and the tie and jacket I had taken off, before slowly walking over towards Sugawara. "Isn't it after practice? Shouldn't you be all tired and worked out?"

"Oh, no. Today was only focused on the new players, which honestly didn't go so well." He explained, finishing with a soft chuckle. Though I could tell it was filled with disappointment, for the way he looked down on the floor was purely depressing.

But quickly steered the conversation another way to distract him from it; that was the least I could do. "Oh, well, today it was just Toruku and me. But thankfully we just recorded some extra vocals so we didn't have to record the rest of the teams' jobs."

Sugawara distracts himself, taking small glances around the room as I explain to him what we did. He observes the different colors and pictures on the walls, the furniture we helped ourselves to, and the instruments gathered onto the wall. "It looks quite comfortable in here. To be honest, I'm surprised that the school even lets you decorate this place all by yourselves."

"They didn't, they just don't know about it. It's quite convenient if you ask me.." I mumble, shuffling from one foot to the other. What I said was no lie, we were truly blessed to have had a room to ourselves here on campus. If it wasn't for the band teacher who had shown it to us, we probably would've spent our practice time in a garage where there's no AC or comfortable floors.

Meanwhile, Toruku explained to Sugawara the reasoning behind each decoration, I check the timing. It was 6:00 PM, just in time for my mother to get home from work.

"Should we get going?" I ask the grey-haired boy, as he's brought back to reality. He and Toruku sharply turn, pausing their supposedly intriguing conversation, as he nodded to my question.

"I guess so. Well, thank you for showing me this place, I never would've discovered it if it wasn't for you two." Sugawara states, bowing towards the blonde boy with a cigar.

"Alright, I'll catch you later, Y/n. And it was nice meeting you today, Sugawara." After I have a small hug to Toruku and said my goodbyes, Suga and I were out the door.

Our walk began with the two of us climbing down a few stairs, and jogging towards where the sidewalk actually began. From there on, it was easy getting towards the main part of campus, and walking home would be a piece of cake. For Sugawara, I mean.

"So, do you walk home every day?" I ask, tightening my hands around my bento box. The silence between us rested heavily on my chest; not a single word left his mouth.

But it may have been because he was stuck in his own little world, for soon after my question, he blinked his eyes a couple of times and cleared his throat. "Oh, no— not really. I only walk after practice when I stay late. But on free days, like in the morning, I ride the bus."

Nodding, I explain my way of getting to and from school as well. "Me too. Well, usually my mother would drive me before school even started. Either that or I would ride my skateboard and hide it in some gutter. You know how angry the school gets about skateboards." I laugh, hoping he'd approve of joking with school rules. But knowing Sugawara, he probably already knew I bend some.

"Ah, yes. That's convenient. But how far did you live before moving into [Neighborhood]? Surely not too far, right?" He questions, looking down at me for an honest answer.

I widen my eyes at this, making my answer to his questions obvious already. "Uhm.. no! Just a mile and a half away, not a big deal.." My head turns the other way while I giggle at Sugawara's shock. It wasn't a big deal for me at all, I didn't mind getting the few extra steps in the morning. As for him, he must have not had to walk that far every day to understand. I didn't blame him for being so surprised. It wasn't every day you find someone who voluntarily walks that far.

"Oh— that's.. that's a lot! I'm sorry that you had to do that. It must have been hell! But thankfully you have someone to join you on transportation, right?" Sugawara gives me side-eyes, as a smile appeared on his pale face.

"Yeah.. you're right." My sentence runs low in the cold, shaking as I shift from the sidewalk to the road. The pavement felt hard and slippery due to the transition from winter to spring, yet it was still freezing outside.

"You know... it was strange bumping into you today. To be honest, I feel like I'm fifteen again. I think that's just how you make others feel, you know?" My words come out abruptly, but I didn't mind. After today's long day all I wanted was one honest conversation.

Thankfully, Sugawara felt the same I did. "Spending time with each other must have brought back lots of memories, even if they were small." He says to me, observing the way my feet jumped from the curb to the street.

The feeling he brought was like a scent from years ago when you're a little kid. Whether you're reading by a window, or running through a meadow, you'd forgotten it ever even tickled your senses.

"It's kind of strange. Even if we weren't best friends, you still meant a lot to me. I'm wondering whether or not you're still the same, and if that could be brought back." I explain, drawing out my arms to make a tree-like pose while I played hopscotch with the roads. The keychains that hung on my badge made a 'clunk!' noise against the ID, meanwhile, I discussed. "We've both changed so much, Sugawara."

"You're right, we have. But for the better, you know? I think at the moment I'm mentally healthier than in the past year. And as for you, I think anyone can see that. I don't mean that your time of grief was a mistake, but I'm happy that you've been nicer to yourself."

"Yeah, me too." My words stutter, interrupted by the loud engine behind me. Sugawara and I quickly turn towards the noise, widening our eyes at how close the vehicle was. Suddenly, an ear-piercing honk is signaled from the driver, and I'm quickly pulled from in front of the car to under a streetlight in one's arms.

The action is hasty and happened in just a split second, but enough to save me from being run over. Barely comprehending what had just occurred, I freeze in place just like the slippery road. And as the car honks off, I'm left, once again, alone with Suga. Only this time, uncomfortably in his arms.

Lightning travels down my back once I realize I was being held by a stronger, warmer body. Both my arms were being tightly held by his, and my body barely being separated from his by an inch. I stared right into his eyes, as he did so as well.

"Y/n, you. you've got to be careful. Be careful."

Sugawara's words ring in my ears, as I rapidly blink to regain consciousness. Immediately after, a scatter to search for my school bag, which was thrown only a few feet away from me. After retrieving it, I quickly stand onto my feet and turn to Suga, who's already prepared to continue our walk.

"I'll be careful."

With that, the two of us continue our journey towards home in silence once more.

I've gotta be careful with Sugawara.

——

Thanks for coming back to read :) I know my story is crappy but I've only been writing for a little so you could understand why. Please please vote for my chapters, thank you.

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bewareofchris · 4 years

Text

Public Relations 25/??

R atm | Alec Hardy/Dr. Bill Masters | Broadchurch, Masters of Sex | Strong language, eventual sexual situations

“The fact that Alec Hardy was not currently, had not ever, and did not want to date the American sex research did not seem very important at all to the town of Broadchurch. They did what they had always done with a little bit of juicy gossip: they made a spectacle of it.”

AO3 Link | From this part on, the posts should line up with the chapters posted on AO3. This “part” is 25 here but it will be Chapter 9 on AO3.

Betty had a peculiar way of simply existing in spaces that she hadn’t been present in a moment ago. Bill had only just looked down at the growing stack of papers awaiting his attention for a single moment. Just barely long enough to lift up the first resume on the massive stack of possible assistants before he dropped it again and fell back into his chair in defeat.

“Hard day?” Betty asked as if she’d been there since he walked in. As if she hadn’t just materialized there with a tablet resting in the crook of her arm as she eyed him with some dismay.

He gasped, “Betty!” Because she surprised him. But he just glared hatefully at the pile of resumes because there was no defense for his desperate disinterest in going through them. “I assume you’re here on official business.”

“Sure am,” she assured him, “but, in this case, I was sent by my real boss. My wife.” She nodded her head in that way that assumed he understood. And then she cleared her throat to go ahead with, “well, she’s decided that we’re inviting you to Christmas dinner. I don’t know what’s happening with your family, or if you’ve got someplace else you’d rather be. But if your only options are eating some uninspired ham steaks and pre packaged mashed potatoes with a couple of lesbians or sitting alone in your apartment waiting for a text from your overseas lover boy, well--”

“I don’t have a lover boy.”

“You can always eat the ham at our house and wait on the texts. And sing carols with us. We might even make a stocking for you.”

Bill had not even gone through the pretense of purchasing a Christmas tree for his poorly furnished little apartment. He hadn’t turned on the radio in his car in weeks for fear of having to listen to the same merry songs over and over again. Christmas had only ever been something that wound up his guts into a fist of apprehension. Libby had been filled from top to toes with warm memories of long holiday seasons with her family. She hummed carols as she hung stockings and she laid against his side daydreaming about little fat babies to make her Christmad dreams come true.

But Bill’s memory of Christmas was an echo of every other day. His Mother made some attempt, and they assembled for dinner like waiting for a bomb to explode. Father was unforgiving and Mother was skittish. The only presents Bill remembered receiving were black eyes and bruises.

And yet, every year, he’d been sent out into the world with this expectation that he must know how to choose a gift worth giving. He’d suffered through all the Christmas movies, he’d listened to all the chatter. He’d received more than his share of gifts from thankful families and co-workers and friends. And still, he stood in department stores like an idiot, hoping to be saved by someone who took pity on men who barely had an idea of what they were doing there.

“Oh,” he said when the silence had dragged too long and Betty’s amusement had started softening to real concern. “I--uh, that’s very thoughtful of you, Betty.”

“So I’ll tell her to expect you.” Betty wasn’t asking him. She wasn’t even letting him work out how to turn her down. No, she was looking at him the way she had when she handed him a coat and a plane ticket. There would be no arguing with her. “We shouldn’t disappoint Helen right now. She needs to be in top condition for conceiving.”

“Right,” he agreed. “Right. We can’t upset Helen.” He cleared his throat, “should I bring anything? What should I bring--I… Libby usually handled these things.”

“Baby steps, boss. Bring some wine and yourself. We’ll take care of the rest.” Then she smiled at him (or tried her best) and turned with a swish of her skirt. She pulled the door closed behind her and lingered for just a breath before she walked away.

His primary consolation was that, while this had been a stupid idea, at least it had not been his stupid idea. A lucky follow up was how the aisle was filled with other similarly lost looking individuals staring at a selection of brightly colored baby toys without any clue which would be the best gift. At least Hardy didn’t have to look like an idiot by himself.

All of the boxes seemed to offer some guidance as to the appropriateness to the age of the child. Fred was a baby, but his exact age was unknown. He was old enough to stand up on his own but he wasn’t old enough to talk. (And it had been a very long time since Daisy had learned to talk. So long ago now that he didn’t remember when it happened.) Still, that wasn’t as big a problem as the fact that he couldn’t begin to guess what sort of color, character or type Fred would prefer.

(He seemed to very much enjoy knocking over block towers. And sucking his thumb.)

Hardy had never bought a gift for another person’s child, but he also felt as if some consideration was meant to be given for what Miller would prefer.

Surely, nobody had ever gone wrong with buying brightly colored, age-appropriate cars for a child? That’s what he’d been telling himself when he picked the box up. He just had been failing to believe it for the past five minutes or so. Because there were also dinosaurs that roared and trains and blocks made noises when you stacked them. And electronic toys that promised to teach letters and numbers.

An educational gift seemed ideal, unless it implied that he didn’t feel like Miller was educating her child appropriately.

Hardy was still holding the cars in one hand as he dug his phone out of his pocket. He stared at his sparse contact list as he tried to work out who he could call for help. Miller was an obvious choice but he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. (They hadn’t, after all, discussed anything at all about exchanging gifts or the impending holiday.) It was too early to call Bill (and he was useless anyway). Daisy would be at school. He sighed at himself, and the toys, and his phone, and the world, but he still tapped on Tess’ name.

She answered on the third ring, sounding almost amused enough to cover her confusion. “Should I feel special?”

“How should I know?” Hardy answered, and he squeezed his eyes shut at the flutter of his heart beat getting light and flighty. He cleared his throat, “I was calling for advice about a kid’s present.”

“Ok,” Tess said, “whose kid?”

“A co-worker’s.”

“A lady co-worker?”

“Tess,” Hardy said. He opened his eyes and dropped the box he’d been holding back on the shelf. “If you can’t help…”

“Calm down, Alec. Boy or girl? How old?”

The conversation was so polite it was almost professional. Tess directed him to fat little cars that made noises and came with track pieces. And when that gift had been secured, her voice was soft when she said, “this might be the most civil conversation we’ve had in years, Alec. It’s nice to hear you sound almost happy.”

Hardy was resting one arm against a shelf, frowning sideways at nothing at all, thinking terrible-and-unkind things about his wife. He could have said nothing at all, but he said, “I’ve been happy, Tess. You just don’t get to know about it.”

Her silence was shock.

“Thank you for your help,” he said when he couldn’t take the sound of her breathing one more second. He hung up before she recovered; his body felt flushed hot and he took a minute to steady himself before he trusted his feet to carry him.

Bill was making dinner, and Alec was staying up very-very late.

“What have you been eating?” was Alec’s voice wrapped up in a blanket on his bed. It was shadowed in the after-midnight dark; just now starting to get heavy with sleepiness. “Microwave food?”

“I haven’t had to cook for myself in a very long time. And besides,” he said, off to the side of the stove, where his phone was propped up on a glass container. “It’s oddly difficult to make enough food for just one person. I don’t even know how to shop. I bought six chicken breasts when I went to the store, what am I going to do with six chicken breasts?”

“Eat six meals?”

“The only food packaged with a single person in mind is microwave meals.”

Alec made a noise like a wheeze, a snort of disbelief, and disapproval and amusement all at once. His voice was stretching and settling into a new place as he said, “and you call yourself a doctor.”

“Yes yes.” Bill moved the pan off the hot burner and picked his phone up to take it off speakerphone. Their conversation was yawning itself to a close and there was something far more fulfilling about talking quietly into the phone. “You don’t have to stay up so late,” he said.

“I know I don’t,” Alec agreed. He was quiet, like thinking very carefully about what he wanted to say next.

“Betty said you were my lover boy,” he tried to make it sound like it had been funny. He tried to make it a tease, like it was every bit as silly of her to think such a thing as the people from Broadchurch had been to think they were a couple. It had been funny at the start, when they were building a friendship off appreciation for how silly it was.

But here they were, breathing into a phone call where neither of them wanted to talk first. Here they were with phones full of long text messages and half-whispered admissions. Here he was, with his heartbeat pounding in his chest, biting his lip, hoping and not hoping all at once for some kind of reaction that--

What?

What the hell did he want?

What the hell was he even doing?

Waiting on a man from Broadchurch to tell him that maybe Betty had a point. That maybe if you woke up looking for a message from the man, and fell asleep thinking about what you’d talk about tomorrow, and stole moments from your day to escape into the ease of another nonsense conversation with him.

Alec’s sigh was almost wounded. He said, “tell me something. Something that you couldn’t tell your wife.”

Bill was staring at his socked feet and his floor that desperately needed to be swept. He was churning over a thousand different things in his head, all the ugliest secrets he’d ever kept. He was wondering what sort of test this could possibly be, and how terrified he suddenly found himself to be. He said, “I never loved Libby. Before I met her, I… I was in love. I loved her and I thought, I thought she loved me but I wrote her a note asking her to marry me and…” His throat was squeezing his words out of shape, his face was filling up with heat. Bill pressed a hand across his mouth and then cleared his throat. “It didn’t work out. And I married Libby because I needed a wife and I thought I liked her well enough.”

The silence stretched, and the quiet moved through the phone. Alec must have been pushing himself up to sit on the bed. He said, “did you love Virginia?”

“Yes,” Bill whispered, “but I wasn’t kind to her.”

“I loved my wife,” Alec said, “and that wasn’t enough for her. I don’t want to not be enough for someone again.”

“I want to be happy with someone. I want to know that I’m loved, I want them to know that I love them,” Bill said, because he couldn’t say that he didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want this lonely little apartment. He didn’t want the office waiting for me at his job. He didn’t want any of the things he’d spent his whole life trying to get. Whatever they had meant to him before, whatever franticness had driven him to such heights all these years, it wasn’t in him anymore.

It was stupid, to be standing in his kitchen, hoping that a man an ocean away from him would understand.

Alec said, “don’t make it sound so impossible, Bill. You can have that if you work for it.”

Maybe it was how late it was where Alec was. Or maybe it was how lonely Bill felt just then, but those words sounded almost like a promise.

Then Alec said, “go to Betty’s for Christmas. It’ll be better than being alone. And go eat your dinner, the food’s got to be cold by now.”

“Yeah,” Bill agreed.

“Tomorrow, we’ve got to have an earlier call. It’s one in the morning.”

Bill snorted. “Sleep well, Alec.”

“Enjoy your dinner,” Alec said.

They were idiots on the phone, wasting seconds, waiting and waiting to see if they had to be the first one to hang up. Bill moved first, because just then he wasn’t sure he could bear to hear the sound of the call disconnecting from the other end. He stood in his kitchen, feeling like his skin had been peeled away from his flesh, with something like a flicker of hope resting firmly in his chest.

Hardy woke up like a man with a hangover. The night before had been no less full of rash decisions just because it lacked enough alcohol to justify them. His body felt no less abused. Exhaustion settled into his limbs like filling all his insides up with warm sand. The morning sun mocked him through the window as he lay on his back, searching for some sense of purpose big enough to drag him out of his bed.

Sitting no more than an arm’s distance away was the instrument of his own stupidity. (Just the memory of it made him press both his hands to his face with a groan that shook through his whole body.) The boldness of asking Bill for secrets he’d never shared with anyone else. The agony of laying in this very bed with both his hands wrapped around the phone, waiting for a response he had no right to expect.

But he’d gotten one.

Oh hell.

Staying beneath the blankets, far from the phone and all the damage it could inflict on his well-being, seemed like the only good, logical decision that could be made. A smart man would have walked away, but Hardy was a shaky, weak-hearted sort. He grabbed the phone almost as soon as he’d decided he shouldn’t, and there was a text waiting for him.

Bill had sent it before bed, and all it said was: Good morning, Alec.

The text could have said anything at all and Hardy would have smiled. It was a response made of reflex, a steadily growing expectation that was as essential to the mood of his morning as a good cup of tea. It held him over through the morning quiet as he went about the mundane activities of his life. Just when the softness of a good morning text was waning, Bill showed up with a complaint about his coffee, or his office, or the unnecessary (his words) amount of paperwork waiting for him.

With the way they were carrying on, late evening phone calls were going to become as much a part of his day as good morning texts. He was going to rearrange dinner and bedtime to make a space to answer the phone to the slowly brightening sound of Bill Masters fumbling his way into a conversation. It was a wonder how a man could dial a phone, and wait for it to ring and breathe hello across the ocean and still have no idea what you meant to say. But Hardy did understand why it didn’t matter to him if they talked about the mind-numbing nothings of a day, or exchanged dinner plans, or their least favorite holiday songs. Hardy would have had a conversation about anything at all--

His boldness was self-preservation because he knew. He’d been here before, spending all his time waiting on texts and phone calls. Falling asleep and waking up thinking about what he was going to say the next time. Taking showers without washing his hair, replaying all the words on repeat.

Hardy had to live withe answers he’d been given now. He had to accept life in the aftermath because Bill had barely taken a full minute to come up with an answer, almost exactly like a promise.

So he was an idiot, falling in love with a man he had no hope of being with, smiling at his phone as he typed out: Good morning, Bill.

Bill was wearing the lab coat because he’d convinced himself that he was going to do something like real work today. There was enough of it waiting to be attended to that he shouldn’t have had trouble finding something to throw himself into. He’d convinced himself that it would be better than sorting through resumes, but that had been well over a half an hour ago and all he’d managed to do was find himself staring at the nicely-made bad in the observation room.

His head was full of thoughts that he couldn’t quite hear. It was a peculiar feeling to be caught inside your own body, knowing something was going on, and being just out of earshot of your own emotions. (Or not. Maybe Bill felt plenty. It was the ideas he couldn’t get a grip on.)

“Bill.” Virginia was standing in the doorway, one hand resting against the frame and the other behind her back. Her voice was as soft as flower petals; her face as gentle as early-morning sunshine.

“Virginia.” He didn’t even have a pretense of being caught preparing because he hadn’t even made it as far as pulling a chair out. The most he’d done was turn on a light. They’d built this room to contain any noise and it covered the space around them cotton, sealing away all the world around them.

“I appreciate that you’ve gone out of your way to make my return as smooth as possible,” she said. “I just wonder if… How are you?”

Oh, he was thinking about a beautiful woman named Dody that had whispered his name from kiss-pinked lips like she loved him. He was wondering where she was, and why he hadn’t been enough for her.

Is that what he was wondering?

That’s what Alec had said. That he had loved his wife, and he hadn’t been enough for her. Bill had loved Dody like that, he had dreamed about the life they could have. Oh hell, he’d even imagined a lovely little house, and a little dog, and when they were ready, a child with the face of the woman he loved. He could imagine happiness in Dody’s image because it had felt possible.

Libby begged for children, and she’d gotten them in the end. Bill had never imagined a life full of children with Libby. He’d never dreamed of Christmas carols and little stockings by the fire. He couldn’t imagine kissing her in the morning with an arm wound around her back. He hadn’t even loved his children with any hope, because he had never felt that he could.

That was the sort of bastard his father had made him to be; the one that hadn’t even tried to love his own children. And for what reason? Because he hadn’t wanted them?

(But didn’t he? It had felt like heartbreak in that God-damn operating room, with the weight of his stillborn daughter in his hands. It had felt like his soul had been ripped. You couldn’t break a heart that couldn’t love. He had loved Catherine. He must have loved Johnny, and Jenny, and Howie.)

“Fine,” Bill said, “I’m doing well. Thank you.”

“Things don’t have to be strange between us,” Virginia said. “We’ve always been able to separate our work from other…distractions. I hope that we’re able to find that same balance again.”

“Of course,” he cleared his throat, “right. Of course. I just--” he looked down at the tablet in his hand, and then at the door behind her. “I think I’m not feeling well, if you excuse me. I’m going to take some paperwork and go home.”

Virginia looked, if only for a moment, disappointed by him. As if she had expected something different.

Bill slid past her before he could get caught on wondering why she would look at him like that. He passed Betty in the hallway, and she didn’t even try to stop him. The most she did was frown back down the hall like she already knew what she’d find.

But it wasn’t Virginia’s fault that Bill didn’t know what the hell he wanted. It wasn’t her fault that he’d made this terrible situation. It wasn’t her fault that he wanted to be anywhere in the world but here.

Impulse stopped him at the last moment. And it felt very much like it had the night before. When he was asked for honesty and he had barely hesitated. It must have been all those thoughts of his, just slightly too far away to hear clearly. He called, “Betty?”

“Yeah?” Betty was torn between following him and continuing what she had been doing.

“I’m going home for the day,” was a coward’s way out. He didn’t look away from her trying to figure out what to say in response, so they were still staring at each other when he cleared his throat to add, “and I’d be very happy to accept your invitation.”

“What is that?” Miller had barely made it in the door. Her fingers were still reaching up to pull her scarf loose. Even poor Fred was still bundled so tightly in his winter wear that he couldn’t quite manage to lower his arms.

Hardy had left the gift sitting on the table by the stack of case files that they kept thinking they were going to get to. But the white-shocked-look on Miller’s face made him think that perhaps he should have tucked it out of sight until he’d had the chance to provide some lead-in to giving it to her. (Except that Hardy had never seen the sense in pretenses. People wasted altogether too much time on nonsense.) “It’s for Fred,” he said. And it sounded immediately stupid to him. “For Christmas. I wasn’t sure-- If it’s inappropriat--”

“Oh shut up,” Miller said. Her fingers were still curled into the scarf but she hadn’t managed to pull it loose yet. The words came as one gust of breath and she jerked to the side, spinning around so she wasn’t looking at him.

Fred looked back at his Mom and then up at Hardy. His overstuffed coat sleeves were keeping his arms straight out to the sides but he raised them vaguely toward him. “Off,” the boy said to him. (Or might have been up.)

Hardy could have taken the boy’s coat off but he couldn’t be sure that Miller was going to stay. As much trouble as he appeared to be in, it would just be made worse by removing the coat of a small child that most likely wouldn’t want it put back on. “Miller,” he said.

“Shut up,” Miller repeated but her voice was tight and wet. She turned back to look at him as she wiped at the tears gathering at the edges of her eyes. “What do you think you’re doing?”

There he was, a fully grown man, ducking his head because the truth was that he didn’t know what he thought he was doing. “That’s what friends do, isn’t it? You’ve got a kid and we’re friends, and that means I buy him a present and--”

“Oh, shut up,” Miller shouted at him. She was scrubbing fresh tears from her eyes with greater aggravation. Poor Fred, who had really reached the end of his ability to be held prisoner in his coat, started crying at the sharpness in her voice. Miller pulled her own scarf off before she crouched down to release the boy and kiss his distressed little forehead.

“I can take it back,” Hardy offered.

“Don’t you dare,” Miller snapped. She dropped Fred’s coat on the back of his little couch and pulled her own coat off. “I don’t think Tom’s coming home for Christmas. He says that he needs space and he feels happier when he’s not around me. He says he didn’t want to leave Broadchurch and he doesn’t want to be punished because of me.”

Hardy was miserable with comfort, standing there without any ability to offer anything that might make the thick-wet pain in Miller’s voice even slightly more bearable.

“I didn’t do this, did I? I didn’t murder a boy. I didn’t make us pariahs in our own home. I didn’t-- I haven’t even put up a tree. Fred’s too young to care. I haven’t even thought about making dinner. I didn’t even wrap any gifts. I don’t… I didn’t think I could stand it.”

Hardy looked over at the little boy dragging his box of blocks off the bottom of a low shelf. “We could get a tree,” Hardy said. “I haven’t gotten one because-- What’s the point? Daisy’s visiting her Grandparents with her Mom. I won’t get to see her until New Years, if she agrees to see me at all. We could…” He shrugged, “we could eat. Let Fred open his gifts.”

Miller was shaking her head at him. “You’re a bastard,” she said. And then she cleared her throat again. “Look at me, I’m a mess. I’m going to make myself presentable. And then we’ll talk about trees and dinner and…” She moved like she was going toward the bathroom but she lurched back and dragged Hardy into a hug.

He was too shocked to do more than stand there, and it didn’t seem to matter if he reciprocated or not. She held on a matter of seconds and then let go to retreat to the bathroom. Hardy was left standing there, looking at the empty space where Miller had been until Fred climbed onto the back of the couch to grab his hand.

“Blocks,” the boy said to him.

They were building their sixth tower before Miller came back out, and when she did, her composure was a worn-thin cover barely hiding her pink-tipped nose. She didn’t bother to touch the case files, just came around the couch to sit on the floor with them. “If you were sincere, and you weren’t just offering because I was making a scene, we’d be very happy to have Christmas here with you.”

Hardy nodded, and Miller reached out to wrap an arm around Fred and drag him back up against her body. She kissed his fluffy hair as he wriggled to be free enough to kick over the block tower. “You’ll have to do the cooking if you want something edible,” Hardy said.

Miller snorted. “We’ll split it down the middle. Joe always made Christmas dinner.”

“We can buy premade,” Hardy suggested.

They were idiots, trying to find something like happiness, smiling at nothing.

Betty opened the door with a jerk that made the knob rattle. He’d expected some level of formal attire; most likely something very similar to what they frequently wore to work. But Betty was wearing a baggy T-shirt over a pair of leggings patterned with Christmas tree lights. Her hair was pulled away from her face by a wide-black headband and she smiled at him with fondness that had no name.

“Oh,” Bill said. He was wearing a tie and carrying a bottle of wine (as directed). “Did I come at the wrong time?”

“Is that the pizz--oh.” Helen was all smiles in baggy fleece pajamas zipped from her waist to her neck. She had a fist full of cash and an almost embarrassed smile. “Hello Dr. Masters.”

“Just Bill will do,” Betty said. She opened the door as wide as she could and motioned for him to step inside. “No, you came at the right time, boss. We just decided that we’d take it easy on you this year. We ordered pizza, we bought beer and we’re going to watch Christmas movies.”

“Betty.” He didn’t step inside because he was wearing a suit. He was wearing a tie. He was holding a bottle of wine that certainly cost more than all the pizza and beer combined. There was every indication available that he didn’t belong here. He’d misunderstood the invitation, and he wouldn’t fit. “I think it’s best if I just…”

“Look,” Betty said as she leaned against the door. “No offense to your fancy education and all, boss but I think you might be the least qualified person standing in this doorway to decide what is and isn’t in your own best interest. Now, I thought something like this would happen so I took the liberty of making sure we had some pajamas in your size.”

“No, really, I think…” He took a step back and Helen turned in an awkward circle on her heels to duck back through the doorway she’d come through.

Betty slid forward, so she close enough she could grab him by the hand if she wanted. She was leaning against the door jamb, giving him just enough space to make a run for it. “I’m offering you a night of pizza, beer, pajamas and no expectations. Nobody wants to be alone on Christmas, not even you. And besides,” was a light and happy tilt to her voice, “they’re great pajamas. You can send a selfie to your Scottish sweetheart.”

“He’s not…”

But Betty just hiked up an eyebrow at him, daring him to finish the sentence. She was daring him to call her a liar, and he just couldn’t find the words for it.

“Well,” he shifted on his feet, “I brought wine.”

Betty’s smile was beautiful, and it glowed like the sun. (And he thought, like an answer to all those things that he couldn’t quite figure out, that this is what love must look like. Love at it’s most sincere, and least selfish. Because Betty had nothing to gain from loving him, and still she dragged him into her home just so he wouldn’t be alone.)

Fred fell asleep first, face down in the left over bits of wrapping paper with his fingers curled around one of the noisy little cars Hardy had bought him. He was still wearing the pajamas he’d woken up in and the little white stars caught the twinkle of the Christmas tree lights.

“God, I wish I could fall asleep anywhere like that,” Miller said. She was curled up on the edge of the couch, sipping another mug of just enough eggnog to be an excuse for the alcohol she’d put in it. “Do you remember what it was like to be that unbothered by everything?”

Hardy snorted. “Does anyone?”

They’d had a slow-and-lazy day, drifting through every emotion a human could feel in a day. The morning had started later than he remembered any Christmas involving Daisy had. Fred had found the gifts by the tree, but he was happy enough to get something to eat before he tore into them. Miller had spent an hour in the bathroom crying her eyes out, and they’d put together race tracks and installed batteries until all the toys finally worked.

They’d eaten lunch while they watched kids cartoons off a laptop.

“You’re a pretty good guy, Alec Hardy,” Miller said because she’d had just enough alcohol to make her think the words were a good idea. “Still a shitface. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile--well, I saw you smile, but you didn’t smile at me. You were smiling at your phone.”

Alec was smiling at a stupid picture of Bill Masters wearing fluffy gray pajamas and an elf hat, squished between two smiling women on a small couch. He was smiling because Bill was smiling, even if it was twinged with embarrassment. “I smile,” he said, “when there’s something to be smiling about. What have I got to smile about? My heart is trying to kill me. I can’t drive. I can’t work. I can barely walk some days. And if I die before I solve Sandbrook, all I’ll ever be known for is fucking up an investigation that let a child murderer go free.”

Miller took another drink. She shrugged, “you were smiling at your phone. I saw you. I watched you play with Fred today. You’ve got things to smile about. We both have. Now, don’t start with all that depressing stuff. I’m trying to be a merry drunk.” Her smile was exhausted and her cheeks were pink.

“Fine,” he said.

“Fine,” Miller answered with a smile.

@marvelmisha, @e3105eb, @may-darling, @bigleosis, @it-is-ineffable, @stardust-andwine, @echelongaga, @imnotokaywiththerunning, @heirofsarcasm, @thedoctorsblogger

#illogical husbands #alec hardy #bill masters #grouchy bastards in love #broadchurch #masters of sex

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blackevermore · 4 years

Text

x Within the Days The Bombs stood still [Au Lore/Plot]

x Whaaat another god damn au? Yes...Yes....Because my mafia au and historical lady in waiting au isn’t enough for me. I love making aus, it’s my drug honestly

What’s this one about Cev?

x Cold war era, androids, falling in love with the wrong person, trying to stay alive, and a bittersweet ending! Is it all historically accounted for? Nah. But It’s a funny little idea.

Sit back, relax and get ready for this. It’s gonna be good.

x Okay so while watching an ASMR where the listener was a robot and the YT was repairing them I had the idea of what if I/my sona was an android created by the Americans during the end of ww2 but wasn’t activated during the 70s in the middle of the cold war between America and USSR.

x America was working on a a big top secret that only England knew about to basically create the perfect robots to air drop into the USSR in case there was something going on and they needed to basically blow up the nation before the USSR blew them up. Or simply to have them be spies they send over that could automatically report back to them.

x Alfred, one of the lead sophomore scientist of the project R.A.B (Radioed Automatic Bombers) was in charge of programming and designing the human covers for each robot. Against the orders he was given Alfred too the creative freedom of tweaking each bot into having it’s own made up personality and back stories. He believed that if this robots were going to pretend to be human then they needed to fit the bill. He was stumped on what to do for one of the bots so he used inspo of the female black mathematicians he met at NASA that past summer and created M.E.L (Multipurpose Electronic Locator)

x Luckily for Alfred most of the bots were going to stay in the states to catch any Russian spies that happen to slip in. So creating M.E.L wasn’t that big of an issues considering who he based her after. Alfred had the idea of keeping two of the bots to himself for assistance anyway.

x But was put on a halt when a couple of KGB manage to break into Alfred’s unit and destroyed some of the robots and stole most of the documentation. M.E.L wasn’t completely finished like the other bots and she was going to end up like the rest until one of the spies said they should take one and send it back home to be studied so the Russian would have a lead in whatever the American's were doing. And that became the fate of M.E.L

x When M.E.L arrived in Russia (imma flip back and forth between Rus and Ussr bare with me) the scientist try to take her apart for the information but then its noted in a stolen document that Alfred in coded all his secrets into a trust data base. In order for them to get anything they would have to turn her on and "befriend" her. Only then if they ask her something top secret would she automatically give them what they wanted.

x At first they weren't going to put up with it and destroy her but the junior lead scientists Ivan saw it as a challenge and told them he would deal with her. And in due time Ivan puts M.E.L back together, puts her human covering on and turns her on and M.E.L boots up, what they forgot to look for was to see if she spoke computer or human. So when M.E.L powered on she only responded in English and it seemed that she had a mind of her own instead of being programed to do as she was told. Ivan had more work on his hands than he was expecting.

x Ivan had to rewire her so that she understood and spoke back in Russian. When he was successful that's when things got tricky. M.E.L didn’t see the world in 1s and 0s she saw the world as if she was a real human who happen to take a nap in the wrong place at the wrong time. Ivan being the blunt person he is constantly reminded her that was false and that just made things harder.

x Ivan wasn't dealing with an robot, he was dealing with an android that thought it was human. M.E.L wanted to go home, she wanted to see her "family" but she was stuck in Russia. So Ivan lied to her and said the American left her there and that he was a simple scientist who wouldn’t mind helping her get back home as long as she followed his rules.

x M.E.L didn't like the sound of this but she had no choice but to give in and work with Ivan to get back home. And thus Ivan's rules were simple: 1) No going outside without him 2) She wasn't allowed to wonder each and anywhere in his house 3) if she didn't mind, having something to eat ready by the time he got home and 4) no asking him questions about what he did at work.

x At first M.E.L hated it, and she broke the second rule very offend when he wasn't around. So much in fact Ivan would turn her off before he left the house and have a timer to turn her back on an hour and a half before he was suppose to be home. M.E.L would ask him questions about the difference in American teach and Russian teach and Ivan had to turn her off and reprogram her to be unable to ask those questions. It was a lot of fucking work but eventually they came to an understanding and found an easy way of life to the point Ivan was happy to come home to company.

x But then Ivan started getting to comfortable and failed to report in sometimes. He started seeing M.E.L less of a robot and more of an actual person. The only thing that made it noticable M.E.L wasn’t human was the barcode on the back of her neck and the few times she would glitch out and fall to the ground. Alfred did an amazing job putting her together and if someday Ivan met the man he would taken him in secret.

x That's when things start to take a turn, Ivan isn't reporting as much information about M.E.L and it's been six months. The government starts to think Ivan is actually an American based spy trying to hide the secrets so they start investigating him and spying on him. Ivan isn't dumb and he knows they are and he is trying to cover his footsteps as best as possible.

x This even happens when Ivan is sent on a month mission to Ukraine to overlook the construction and stability of the new power planet that’s being built. He powers off M.E.L and very carefully dis mantels her to store her somewhere safe while he is away.

x But a few weeks after he returns from Ukraine he slips up one night while drinking and he kisses Mel and confesses he might actually be in love with her. And the spies catches that and the next morning Ivan's house is raided, lucky for Mel, Ivan had a feeling something was going to happen and relocated them to the other side of the house near the back where in case of anything they could escape.

x It's honestly a fight for their lives and Mel gets hurt and so does Ivan but they make it out and have to figure out how to get out of Russia and get into Ukraine then down into Poland and over into Eastern Germany. They can’t take public transport like a plane while still in soviet areas because they would be easily captured. Ivan was now an enemy of his country. It takes a year of having to hide, lie, steal and cheat to get all the way to Eastern Germany. But when they make it Ivan can no longer walk and Mel pushes him around in a wheelchair. They make it to safety and Ivan turns himself in to the Americans and Brits that have control over the Western side of Germany. Mel stays with him the whole time when it’s revealed she's an American product.

x Of course wind word catches wind and the American government is contacted and Ivan and Mel are taken back to the states where Alfred finally gets to meet his creation after two years of thinking only of his bots (Matt) survived. He tells her she’s even more human than he ever imagine her to turn out. That’s when it finally dons on Mel that Ivan wasn’t lying she really wasn’t human. Alfred reinsures her that as long as she's willing to help her country he can push some documents to have her a real identity made. Mel accepts as long as she can stay with Ivan.

x But even that was tricky bc now the government is holding Ivan under wraps from both the public and the USSR for questioning. Ivan is really good at giving very little and taking a lot. He told them a few hints of information but not enough to truly do any damage. Eventually the Americans allows him to live in the public but he is under watch. Ivan doesn’t care as long as he can live an honest life with Mel.

x Come to find out Alfred knew all about Ivan since he started his job, Ivan was the one who was always deflecting the American messages in American air space and Alfred had to change the messages to something stupid to throw them off. Alfred offers Ivan a job at the company and they become friends (even with their constant bickering).

x In the end Ivan and Mel stay in America for the rest of Ivan's life, even getting married (that was a weird one for Al but he keeps his mouth shut)

x Ivan ends up dying of old age and Mel doesn't wish to live on without him so she goes to Alfred who is also a very old man and ask him to finally turn her off for good. He asks her if she sure and she tells him to make sure where Ivan is buried she is buried right next to him.

#🌻Optimistic Tragedy🌻#Cold War au #hetalia self ship #self ship #self shipping #self shipping community #this post is long #au lore #my writing

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95liners3rdmember · 4 years

Text

Worth It

Chapter Two: Saying Thank You

Word Count: 9632

Chapter One: First Meeting

Tucking my phone into my back pocket, I have to do a double take of the group standing in front of me. I try to fight my facial expression but I can’t help but squint my eyes and the raising of my brow. The last thing I expected was an impromptu pajama party.

“Ummm...you all didn’t have to come.” My voice croaks out as I lead the way into the apartment. Even though I know the apartment is as clean as it ever will be before I unpack, I nervously scan for a mess. I can’t help the boxes that litter the building for now though.

“We figured eight is better than one, but we have to be quick or Jungkookie over here will be lost to video games.” Namjoon jokes as they make themselves at home, the bag Hoseok carried now is being emptied on the island. Soda and snacks. So I guess we really are having a party.

“Thank you, again.” Now I feel guilty because I know they are all tired. But they are willingly coming to help me, a still somewhat stranger.

“So where do you want to start?” Seokjin asks as he rolls up the sleeves of his RJ pajamas.

I haven’t even gotten that far, I guess the easiest for them to do is the living room. It’s mainly gaming consoles, movies and pictures. That way they can entertain themselves while I unpack my office.

“How about in here? All I have are games, movies and electronics. Could you do that while I went in my office? There’s a lot more to tackle in there.” My sisters would smack me for asking. I want to smack myself too but they seem more than happy to help.

“No problem!”

I walk down the small hallway to the box filled office and a heavy sigh leaves my lips. There’s so much to do here. My mind gets too lost in where and how to arrange everything that I didn’t notice Namjoon, Jimin and Yoongi walk in with me.

“Whoa. There’s more boxes in here than the rest of the apartment.” Jimin’s eyes widen as he tries to find a place to start.

“Reminds me of when we move offices.” Yoongi comments as he opens the box closest to him. Thankfully it’s only dvds from previous jobs or performances.

“Then we know how to handle it.” Namjoon confidently pats my shoulder as I tugged up the sleeves of the sweater. Time to get some work done…

My eyes start to hurt as I try to figure out why my speakers are working with my desktop. We’ve been at it for almost two hours, I’ve lost Namjoon to the gaming party in the living room. Jimin has gotten lost in the pile of Naruto manga that is proudly displayed on a bookcase. Thankfully Yoongi has stayed with me.

“Let me see, it may be a bad wire. It happened once in Genius Lab.” I wiggle from behind the desk and plop into the chair. My somewhat good mood has faded as the night goes on. This is really the last thing I need done before my office is fully unpacked.

“Fixed. You had them switched.” Yoongi smiles lightly as he adjusts the desk and it sits flush against the wall. Thank god, now I need to get them all something for helping me so much.

“Thank you Yoongi. Why don’t you go join the others? I’m just going to break all the boxes down and pick up the trash.”

He hesitates for a moment before nodding slowly, leaving a reading Jimin and a worn out me in the finished room. Honestly I couldn’t be happier. There’s just enough room where I can dance if I need to work out a move. Namjoon and I set up my camera so it can record if I get ideas, we mounted it above my desk so there aren’t any cords to trip over. I may be a dancer but I’m as clumsy as a person with two left feet.

“Are you okay Y/n?” Turning on my heels I meet Jimin’s gaze. He’s putting the book back in its spot as he moves closer to me. I shake me head yes but I see a small box sitting on the ground. My legs wobble slightly as I move over to it and try to open the tape with my bare hands. Thankfully Jimin is thanking clearer than I am and grabs the scissors.

“Thank you.” Slicing the tape, I see a few picture frames and my heart feels heavy. It’s a picture of me and my two sisters right before I left. They threw me surprise going away party with just us and a few family members. Tears start to prick at the corner of my eyes as I move to place it on my desk.

“Are these your sisters?” Jimin asks as he shuffles through the box, turning I see him holding a picture frame. A weird mix of smile and smirk grace his lips. What picture could he have?

Oh no.

Fire lights in my cheeks as I try to take the photo away from him. Crap. That’s the last thing I wanted him to see. My sister and I are standing in age order with our backs turned to the camera, but our faces turned so you can see who is who, a thumb pointing to the back of our shirts as we stand in front of a large arena. It’s from our first time going to see BTS all together. Each of us wearing a different jersey style shirt. Of course they would pack this one in with my others even after I told them not to.

“I guess Nikole thought it would be funny to pack this. It’s really embarrassing.”

“How? You all look excited.”

“It was the first time the- we got to see you perform. One of the best shows I’ve ever seen.” I had to catch myself before I gave it away that I had been to others.

“Here’s another one.” Jimin grabs the last frame out and I want to die.

It’s a picture of me, wide smile with my army bomb staring up at the stage in awe. The lights in the background almost made it look like something from a fairy tail at how I was glowing. It was during the performance of ‘Fire’ that she took this because I was so proud to see my hard work come to life.

Namjoon had sent us tickets for right by the stage that way we could somewhat see each other during sound check and the concert. I hadn’t kept up with the set list and when I say them running through ‘Fire’ I almost cried. So leave it to my youngest sister to take a picture of the actual concert performance. I swear I’m going to hide this picture in the deepest, darkest drawer I have here.

Jimin mumbles something under his breath, it’s so soft and quick that I can’t make out what’s said. But there’s a strange tension in the room now. I clear my throat and take the second picture from him.

“Ah I knew you had a favorite!” My whole body jumps and I almost drop the frames. Namjoon has been peering over my shoulder long enough to make out who’s is wearing each shirt.

“Jesus Namjoon, you scared the life out of me.” As an instinct the words come out in English. The filter in my brain stopped working from being scared. Jimin can’t help but look at me as if I had a second head when the words came out in an accent he hadn’t heard much before.

“I figured out Nikole and Nat’s that night but not yours. Seems you’ve been hiding something from me.” The grin on his face is full of playfulness and I can’t help but laugh.

“I’m just messing with you, come on Jimin, Y/n. Kookie and Jin are the last two players in the contest. Let’s see who’s going to win.” Glancing over at Jimin another giggle slips through my lips as I notice his cheeks are painted a light shade of pink. The boys lead the way out but I quickly drop off the frames on my bed before joining them.

All of the members have spread out across the couch and the floor. Empty boxes are stacked by the balcony door and everything seems to have found a home. They are quicker than I am, that’s for sure. Yoongi points over to the countertop and I see a pair of pajamas waiting for me.

“Jungkookies clothes would be too big for you, I had an extra pair anyways.”

“Thank you again. I’ll change after watching the last round though. I feel bad for leaving you all out here.” I scratch the back of my head and frown a little. Honestly I would’ve liked to spend more time out here but there was a lot to do.

“Don’t worry about it! Also, I unpacked the kitchen and you need to go shopping.” Hoseok calls from his spot on the couch. He did the kitchen?! I really owe them, maybe I can take them to dinner tomorrow.

“I should probably do that tomorrow after my luggage gets here.” Namjoon pats the couch and I happily oblige as my legs start to feel like a thousand pounds. I squeeze in between Namjoon and Taehyung.

“You can go with me. I’ll come by and get you in the morning.” Hoseok is willing to volunteer himself for something I can handle on my own makes my heart jump. They really are the most welcoming and accepting group of people I’ve ever met. And I’ve met a lot of people in the entertainment industry.

“I’d like that a lot.” Smiling, I lean back into the couch and shimmy out my phone. There’s not much going on except a few notifications from my email. I’m too tired to check them now but I will in the morning. Taehyung reaches over as my guard is down and goes to my secure app that I was told to download. BigHit is all about security, so they told me that they only message within secure and private app accounts. Smart by all means but it’s going to take some getting used to.

A few minutes pass by as I watch him through heavy eyes and finally see that there are seven new contacts and a new group chat. Quietly I thank him but it’s drowned out by the cheering and hollering around us. Once again Jungkook proves he’s superior at most things. I fight against my body screaming for sleep as I clap along.

Namjoon gently nudges me and I look at him with a weak smile. He knows, well they all know too well what exhaustion can do to a person's body.

“Alright everyone, time to go. Some of us have work to do tomorrow.” Being the ever vigilant leader, he manages to wrangle the members. A few protests come from the younger three and I told them we could all get together another time.

I wave goodbye and tell them how thankful I am for them helping me as they single file out of the apartment. Shutting the door, I lock it slowly and trudge back to the bedroom turning off the lights as I go. My hands grab at the clothes on the counter and I stumble into my room.

A few ideas pop into my mind at how to decorate but that can wait, for now I need to sleep. Gently I peel off Namjoon’s sweater and fold it nicely. I’ll make sure to have it cleaned for him before giving it back.

Like a zombie I change into the comfy clothing and cleanup before bed. My head feels so much better as the buns come tumbling down. I can’t even look at the mirror knowing that I look as bad as I feel.

Crawling into the bed, my mind can’t seem to turn off as my body aches for sleep. I guess I’m missing home just a little. On instinct I reach for my phone that’s plugged up and rest it where I can lay in bed and video chat. Clicking on Nat’s name I patiently wait.

“Why are you still awake?” I look around in the background and I can tell she’s back at home already. Her exam must be finished already.

“I can’t sleep.” My voice feels foreign to my ears. I wonder if this is how Namjoon feels.

“Then tell me about your day. I haven’t really gotten to talk to you since you left.” It’s no secret that Nat hates being separated from Nikole and I. That’s why it was difficult for her to accept that I was leaving. There were tons of late nights spent packing and just talking.

“There’s not much to tell. Dinner was interesting though.” My eyes start to close, they feel like a thousand pounds.

“I would hope so. I mean after all you got to hangout with seven of the coolest people ever.” I huff out a laugh at my sister’s comment. Nuzzling my head into the pillows as I struggle to pull the covers up, Nat lets out a small huff.

“Get some sleep sis.”

Buzz ...Buzz...Buzz….

My eyes screw close tighter as I blindly reach for my phone on the nightstand. Groaning out in frustration I finally grab the cold device and shiver slightly as I lift it to my ear, the cord snagging as I struggle with it.

“Hello…” My voice cracks towards the end as I roll over to see sunlight pouring in from the window beside me. What time is it?

“Good morning y/n! It’s Hoseok, I thought you wanted help going shopping this morning?” There’s a slight teasing tone in his voice, pulling my phone away I check the time. 1:30 p.m. Crap!

There’s a knock on my door and I instantly take off sprinting. I must look crazy because as I fling the door open Hoseok jumps back with a look of pure shock. His phone slowly drops from his ear and he quickly ends the call. In front of him sit my three suitcases that went missing yesterday. Thank god they are here.

“I’m so sorry. I overslept, please tell me you weren’t waiting too long.” I bow slightly but I snap back up when a breeze hits my skin. How could I forget that I’m not wearing my own clothes?! Idiot.

“When Namjoon couldn’t get ahold of you I went ahead and did a few other errands.” My eyes dart back to the phone in my hands and notice the dozens of missed calls and texts. One being an email from BigHit…..fantastic.

“I guess you aren’t too used to jet lag like the rest of us. Why don’t you get dressed and I’ll take you to get some coffee.” Hoseok smiles widely and I feel a new bubble of energy burst in my body. Grabbing two of the suitcases, I roll them into the apartment before grabbing the third one.

“Give me like...5 minutes. I’ll try to be quick.” Bowing apologetically, I snatch my pink suitcase and take off for my bedroom. My feet barely miss the empty boxes that litter the living room from last night. I’ll have to figure out where to take these later this afternoon.

Slamming my door shut louder than I intended I make myself jump. Skimming through my notifications I get the gist of what all I missed; my sisters being nosey and overprotective, Namjoon trying to wake the sleeping beast, a few texts from Hoseok trying to figure out if I’m awake and lastly an email reminding me of the meeting at 8am on Monday which has a dress code of business casual. So I’ll have to take a bag of my dance clothes to change into. I might as well leave some in my office if this is a regular thing.

Tossing my phone to the side, I unzip the large suitcase and pull out my favorite Saturday outfit. Stripping out of Yoongi’s shorts I jump around as I tug up the black ripped skinny jeans, almost tripping over my carry on. Lord today might be my last day on earth with how clumsy I’ve been today. Cheering quietly in victory I gently take off Jungkook’s huge shirt and dress myself in my version of the white T-shirt, top it all off with a black and red flannel, finishing it off with white converse. Perfect. Now time to take the mane.

“Hey y/n are these videos the ones you made before moving?” Hoseok yells out from the office as I shove my toothbrush into my mouth. Closing my lips around the brush, I throw my hair up into a messy bun and emerge from my room.

“Yes….I can...show you...later.” I manage to say through foamed toothpaste without looking like a crazy person. It must be an entertaining look because Hoseok tried hard to hide his laughter. Running back, I spit out the foam and grab the face mask Jimin gave me last night just in case.

Grabbing everything I need, phone-check, purse-check, mask-check, keys...in the purse.

“Ready?” Tilting my head to the side, a child like smile spreads on my face. I’ve never been this excited to go grocery shopping before. Must be the sunshine effect of the famous J-Hope. It feels weird to call him by his stage name so I’ll just wait until he tells me to.

“Let’s get going! But first coffee. There’s a little shop down the road and they know to be discreet.”

Discretion. Something I’ve never really been used to but now it’s a huge factor in my job. Being around one of the fastest growing bands in the world comes with more media attention. Their stylist and trainers don’t really get much exposure but I saw their old choreographer a lot more in photos and videos. The fans didn’t say much because it was another guy. I can just imagine what the fans will think with a woman around all the time.

I knew the risks, I’m very well aware that one wrong step could lead to me being back home. Is this even acceptable? Going shopping with one of the members and their manager doesn’t sound like a situation that’s allowed. But if it was a big deal Namjoon would’ve stopped me.

There’s a black van pulled up to the front and a large man standing outside of vehicle. Security. Better safe than sorry.

“Sorry. Normally our managers drive us around.”

“It’s fine. I know your safety is more important. If it’s too much of a hassle I can always go on my own.”

“No way! You’re not going to get rid of me that easily. After yesterday I can’t wait to see what you’ve come up with.”

A sincere sunshine smile radiates from Hoseok as he slides the van door open for us. Fumbling with my mask I hop into my seat. The door slams loudly and my nerves start to go haywire. It’s justifiable though considering I’ve never been alone with any other member beside Namjoon for more than a few minutes. This adventure could hours…

Snatching my phone out of my purse I send a quick text to Namjoon letting him know that I’m internally freaking out.

Y/N:‘Why did I agree to this? I feel like Hoseok will get bored of me.’

RM: ‘Just be yourself. See you later, working on something.’

“Is it nice having a Saturday off Hoseok? I remember Namjoon telling me once that getting a full weekend off feels like a vacation.” It’s no secret that each member works themselves to the bone. Namjoon has told me countless times that Yoongi would stay for days on end in the studio.

“It’s strange but I’m glad. There was a lot of things I needed to get done today and this is the last errand.” His fingers are typing quickly on the screen. Looking away so I don’t invade his privacy, my eyes take in the scenery. Small shops and large crowds fill the streets.

“I’m so sorry for making you wait. I feel bad. You all were more than willing to help me last night.” Looking down at the phone, I lock it and slide it into my purse. I still need to figure out how to repay them for their help. Last night I thought I could make dinner but it may just be easier if I take everyone out.

The car comes to a stop in front of a small coffee shop. Shuffling through my purse, I bring up the white mask and cautiously wrap around my ears. Last night was almost a disaster when I felt the straps tug at my earrings. Pulling the door, Hoseok jumps out and holds the door open long enough for me to exit as well. The manager leads the way as we enter the small shop.

It’s adorable. Small tables line the walls and there’s a large bookcase beside the register. Maybe on my next day off I can come in and read a book. Smiling I stand behind Hoseok and stare at the menu. Bouncing on the balls of my feet as I order an iced coffee, my eyes wander around the shop. I can’t help but notice a few curious customers staring at the two of us. For some reason my heart starts to hammer in my chest. The last thing I want is to get Hoseok in trouble.

“Don’t worry too much. I come here a lot, with and without security.” His words calm my heart a little, but I still want to leave. I guess it’s the gitters of being so close to a member of BTS. Or maybe because I haven’t even gotten to work a real first day yet.

Hoseok pats my shoulder lightly as our names are called. Taking my cup with a quiet ‘thank you’ I follow the man in front of me back into the safety of the van. Tugging the mask down to take a sip I feel a sigh of relief escape my body.

“I didn’t realize last night that you have so many piercings. They look really cool.” Raising a hand up I trace the line of piercings. The studs feel rough under my finger as I twist the one on the bottom.

“It’s something my sisters and I did growing up. It was almost a competition, if one of us would get another the other two would. Nikole has more though, I stopped with the three on top and bottom.” The last time I got a piercing was after the BTS concert. Adrenaline was pumping through me and it was all I could think of.

“Jungkookie will be jealous that you have more than him.” His giggle makes my body vibrate with energy. Being around Hoseok is like being around a ball of pure, fun energy. It makes me want to run a mile, clean my entire house and dance for hours. None of which I’ll get done today but it’s a nice thought.

Pulling into a large parking lot, there’s a lot more people than I thought would be. That’s what I get for sleeping in so late. Definitely not going to bed at a decent time tonight.

“Ms. y/l/n, Hoseok you will have to be quick. Traffic is starting to pick up and it will just be safer.” Nodding slowly, all four of us exit the van and make our way to the store. Hoseok bumps my shoulder as we both grab a cart. Laughing lightly, I bump against him as I walk beside him.

As we walk through the store, both of our carts start to fill up. His more than mine though since he’s getting enough for seven compared to my one. The more that we’re inside, the more my face starts to feel warmer and warmer from the mask. I should’ve worn one back home to adjust.

“What else do you need Hoseok?” Clearing my throat, I tug at the mask to let a small breeze of cool air in. I don’t want to seem like I’m rushing him because he was nice enough to wait for me.

“Um...I think I need to get some milk and then I’m done. Are you feeling okay? I noticed you messing with the mask.”

“I’m fine. Just getting a little toasty, don’t worry about it.” Adding some cheer into my voice, I pick up the pace beside him. A few people look at us as we pass them, a few younger girls have their phones out giggling in groups. I really hope no one notices Hoseok right now.

“Um, do you think everyone would like to go to dinner tonight? My treat.” Those words make him stop in his tracks. A goofy laugh erupts from his chest as he almost doubles over.

“After last night I think everyone would like that, but are you sure about paying? Jungkook and Jin could out eat anyone you’ve met.”

“I’m completely sure. I need to make sure you all eat well before I put you to work on Monday.” Winking at him, we make our way to the checkout counter and start to pay for everything. The process of checking out is so much quicker than our almost hour long shopping trip. I can’t believe we’ve been here that long.

Patiently waiting for Hoseok, I hold tightly to the handles I look around at the rest of the store. There’s definitely more people, I can’t help but swallow nervously. The voice in the back of my mind telling me it was a bad idea.

“All done! Let’s get back.” His singsong voice calms me as all four of us make our way back to the van. Being careful to divide our things into two different piles, we jump right back in and sink into the plush seats. Hoseok quickly pulls out his phone and types at the speed of lightning. Pulling my mask down, I take in a deep breath.

“Everyone but Namjoon and Yoongi will help us carry all of this stuff up.” A strange wave of guilt hits me.

“Hoseok don’t worry about me. I can carry all of mine up.”

“Call me J-Hope, everyone does. And don't worry about it. It’s no big deal.”

Of course I could only get away with being so formal for so long. And there’s no point in arguing with him either.

“Good. And the quicker we get these groceries put away the faster I can watch the videos.” Even through the mask I see a smirk.

I can’t help but smirk too. Of course there’s a hidden meaning behind the kind actions. Two can sort of play that game too.

“Very true. But don’t tell the others. Take it as a thank you for going shopping with me.” I elbow him gently as I winked at him. Earning me a genuine Hoseok laugh.

The drive back is quicker and before I know it the four other members are waiting somewhat calmly down at the front door. It’s strange to see them so ...domestic.

Hoseok jumps out of the van as soon as it’s parked, which gets him a slight scolding from his manager. I can’t help but giggle. Not even worrying about the mask, I follow suit and jump out. All of the boys are dressed in joggers and long sleeve shirts. Their hair disarray from laying around and enjoying their day off. Taehyung greets me with a large boxy smile and an enthusiastic wave.

“Hobi hyung I think you got too much.” Jimin slightly complains as he grabs the bags Hoseok passes. Wiggling my way through I manage to grab all of my bags but some get taken from my hands. I teeter for a second at the sudden weight shift as I stare at a grinning Taehyung.

“Oh, thank you Taehyung.”

“No problem!”

He leads the way with a bounce in his step and I can’t help to put a little more pep in my step. As we enter the building I can’t help but feel like someone is staring at me. Glancing over my shoulder I catch the quick turn of Jimin’s head as he busies himself by grabbing bags. Maybe I’m just being paranoid.

The ride up to the apartment is quiet but in a relaxing way. I don’t feel pressured to start or continue a conversation or ask questions. It’s nice.

As the elevator dings, I step out and Taehyung is right behind me. Unlocking my door, I move flat against the door so he can enter before me.

“Do you need help getting rid of those boxes y/n?” His head nods towards the large pile of broken down boxes and a bag full of paper. That’s something else I need to take care of today before Hoseok comes over. But then again there’s no point in rushing myself to completely move in after only being here a full day.

“I was going to take care of them later Taehyung, thank you though.” His smile never fades as he bounces to the door again after dropping the bags on the kitchen counter. With a quick wave, the door shuts loudly and I’m left in a silent apartment. A sigh wrecks through my body as I trudge into the kitchen. Setting down the bags, I fish out my phone and open up the group chat Taehyung created.

Y/N:‘To say thank you for everything, why don’t we all go out to dinner tonight? My treat :)’

Leaving my phone sit unlocked, I start to figure out how I want to arrange everything. Humming along to a random tune, my phone vibrates nonstop for a solid minute before I finally get to check it.

Kookie:’Be ready at 6 noona! I’ll come get you!’

J-Hope:’I told you this might be a bad idea, Jin hyung and Kookie are already getting a reservation.’

Jin:’Eating is never a bad idea, see you at 6 y/n!’

RM:’I go to work in the studio for a few hours...see you soon everyone.’

A few more texts come in from Taehyung and Yoongi but Jimin stays silent. Letting out a huff, I throw all the bags into the trash can and before I can shuffle off into my room a loud knock echoes from the front door. Hoseok.

“Come in!” I yell from the living room and he’s practically jumping as he takes a seat on the couch. Giggling I load the dvd into the player and take a seat beside him.

“I’m going to have to tweak it a little once I see everyone grouped together. But it’s basically the finished product.”

“Lets see it. I haven’t been this excited to have practice in a long time.”

My heart flutters at his words as I press play. A wave of nervousness washes over me as I try to gauge his reaction. For the first time he’s completely expressionless around me. Biting the inside of my cheek I curl up into a ball and pick at my nails. He probably hates it. Or he probably wishes that I didn’t replace their previous coach. As the song comes to an end, the screen fades to black. I can’t bring myself to look at him as the next song plays.

An excruciating twenty minutes later, the DVD stops playing and silence hangs around us. I almost want to run into a studio and start over on everything without even hearing his opinions.

“That ...are you sure we can’t start today?!”

Huh….

Glancing over at him, my stomach settles and I can’t help but burst out laughing. Here I was thinking that he hated it. Hoseok’s brows furrow together as I laugh even harder at his reaction.

“Sorry...ha..I thought you hated it. I was ready to run to the company and remake everything.”

“Ah, sorry…But honestly this is pretty incredible. It’s intricate and eye catching. We’ve got our work cut out for us this time for sure.” Hoseok searches for his phone and lets out a deep sigh. His expression went from carefree to annoyed in the blink of an eye, I wonder what’s going on.

“I have to go, but I’ll see you for dinner.” He’s off the couch instantly as he forces a smile saying goodbye.

I can’t wrap my mind around what just happened as I stare at the closed door. Maybe something came up with the members? It’s none of my business though, whatever happens in their personal life is completely private and I shouldn’t pry into it.

Tossing the remote onto the coffee table, I fall back into the couch and stare up at the white ceiling. For the first time in days, I’m not exhausted. Every fiber of my being is surging with energy to do something, anything really. The only thing really left to do is unpack my bedroom. Perfect.

Tapping my phone screen to double check the time, I have enough time to unload all of my suitcases and play around with my room. Connecting my phone to the speaker in my room music starts to fill the silent apartment and a large smile spreads on my lips. My eyes land on the pictures that I hid away in my room last night. Instantly I grab them and place them on top of the dresser so they wouldn’t get broken.

I can’t believe that Jimin found those last night, actually I can’t believe my sister packed those without me even knowing. Actually I can. My sister would do anything to embarssess me in front of each and every member. They’ve managed to do so in front of Namjoon so many times that I’ve just gotten used to it. But the worst case scenario for me is Park Jimin. I’ve always admired his style of dance and how he can move so seamlessly with any genre of music.

The music in my room stops playing and ‘Just One Day’ starts blaring through the speakers. My cheeks flush red as I search for my phone that’s mixed in with the massive pile of clothes littering my bed. I finally find it and roll my eyes at the caller id.

“Yes Namjoon…” There’s a slight annoyance in my voice but it disappears when I hear a few different chuckles in the background.

“I just wanted to call and let you know to dress up.” Dress up? Where in the world are we going?

“Um...why?” I hear a few more giggles in the background before Namjoon hushed everyone.

“Seems that everyone is going a little over the top tonight outfit wise. Taehyung came out completely overdressed and now everyone else is trying to outdo each other.”

“You did warn me that they could be a little over the top.” Sighing I look at the piles of clothes, at least this time I have plenty of options. But I’m definitely calling Nat for some input, after all having a fashion designer in the family comes in handy.

“It’s a surprise. I just wanted to give you enough heads up.”

“Thanks. I guess I better finish up what I’m doing so I can look presentable for everyone.” I can’t help but chuckle as I end the call and frantically call my sister. Hopefully she’s still awake.

Who am I kidding, that girl runs off of two hours of sleep and coffee.

Clicking on the facetime icon, I run and start the shower so I can just jump in once Nat ends the call. Just as I suspect, her face pops on the screen. Her hair is thrown up into a messy bun and she’s sitting at her desk. She’s probably working overtime on her midterm project like always.

“Nat I need help!” The desperation is clear in my voice as I flip the camera over to look at the mess of clothes. An annoyed sigh comes through the speaker as she rolls her eyes.

“Hello to you too dear sister. Last time I checked you moved halfway around the world....how could I possibly help you?”

“I need your expert advice. Help me pick out a nice outfit for dinner tonight, pretty please!” Flipping the camera back around I pout at the screen which earns me a gut filled laugh from Nat. Honestly if it wasn’t for her I would be constantly dressed in leggings and tank tops.

“Fine. But what do I get out of it?” I know she’s teasing me but I feel bad for interrupting her work. I’ll have to think about something just so she knows that I appreciate everything.

“I’ll think of something like always. But please Nat, I don’t have long to figure out some sort of outfit and get myself presentable.”

“You’re acting like this is some huge dinner. Is it a work event?”

“Uh, you could say that I guess. I’m going with people I work with.” It’s not a lie but it’s not the truth either. The last thing I want is another lecture from my little sister about boundaries and keeping work separate outside of the office.

“Good to know that you still try to keep secrets from me, but I won’t ask. Since I know all of the clothes you own, how about the black turtle neck with the red skirt. Wear the thigh high black heels.”

My eyes dart around the pile as I grab the items she lists off and I can’t help but smile. Nat is going to make a great stylist for sure once she’s out of college. Whoever she works for will be really lucky.

“Anything else dear sister?”

“Don’t go over the top with anything else, keep it simple. Curl your hair though.”

“Thank you, how’s the project coming? I know that you only have about a month or so left.”

“I’ve been struggling with finding the right accent piece. But it’s not going to stop me from passing. Anyways it was great talking but I really need to finish this, it’s due on Monday.”

“You’ll do amazing considering you can style me from halfway around the world. Love you!”

She blows a kiss at the camera as the screen goes black. I release a sigh of relief, I’m beyond glad that she didn’t try to pry too much into things. Hanging the items up on a hanger, I hurry and put away the rest of my clothes and suitcases. It’s a rushed job but it will do for now. Later on I can always rearrange and make it look nicer. But for now I have to hurry and get ready.

A few hours later and a few energy drinks later I’m completely dressed and ready to go. Taking all of Nat’s advice, I bend down and zip up the heels. My hair falls in my face and I huff out an annoyed breath to blow it away. Normally I love to keep my hair up and out of the way since it’s so long but tonight isn’t a night where I can do that. But maybe I can pin it back. Shuffling to the bathroom, stupid heels, I twist a small section on each side and pin it back so my face is hair free. All of my piercings are visible as well and I can’t help but smile. Maybe the next time I get together with my sisters I’ll add on another one.

Switching off the bathroom light, I move back into my room and dig out my small black boy bag and throw my phone and keys inside. Hopefully we are driving because I highly doubt I’ll be able to walk all the way to and from the restaurant like last time. Turning towards my closet I catch my reflection in the full length mirror and instantly my stomach tightens.

All my life I’ve been self conscious about my body and looks. By no means am I overweight but I’ve always felt the pressure of fitting into the social standard of “thin and beautiful”. Since I’ve danced my entire life my legs are more toned and have more muscle than other women my size. Whenever I wear skirts or dresses I always feel a little people are silently judging me for wearing something so revealing and not having that picture perfect thigh gap.

Pulling at the hem of the skirt I stand straight up and suck in a deep breath. I really hope they don’t think I look too bad. And I really hope they don’t think this outfit is a normal occurrence either. This will be one of the only times I wear something like this in front of them.

A loud knock at the door snaps me out of my inner thoughts and I take in another deep breath.

“Let’s do this.”

Switching off the lights as I go, I open the door to a smiling Jungkook. He’s jumping on the balls of his feet as I step into the hallway and lock my door. Looks like Namjoon was being serious about dressing up, Jungkook’s wearing dress pants with a navy blue dress shirt. He looks like he’s about to go to an interview, not dinner with his brothers and his choreographer.

“You look nice noona. Ready for dinner?” A bunny smile graces his lips, it’s the most pure smile I’ve ever seen. Nodding yes and whispering out a small thank you we ride the elevator down to the lobby where the other six men are waiting for us.

And if I didn’t have as much respect as I do for them I might have just fangirl. Each of them is dressed like Jungkook but with a different colored shirt. Namjoon was being dead serious about it being almost a competition. My cheeks heat up as everyone turns to look at us and I meet eyes with Jimin. Crap. After him finding my picture yesterday I feel weird around him. What if he thinks I’m just some crazy fan that’s trying to get close to everyone.

“Do you mind driving one of the cars y/n? Jin is going to drive too that way we don’t have to walk everywhere.” Namjoon walks over to greet me with a dimpled smile.

“Absolutely, who’s riding with us?” His smile fades as he adjusts the glasses on his face.

“Actually I don’t know where the restaurant is. JK and Jin have been there a few times. The maknae line actually all called dibs on riding with you.”

There’s a bunch of snickers and giggles around us. I guess there’s no getting out of this one. I mean what could possibly go wrong with the four of us in a car? I mean we’re all about the same age anyways.

“Sounds like a plan.” Walking towards the door, I walk past most of them except for Namjoon who’s keeping pace right beside me. The others are hot on our heels but that doesn’t stop Namjoon from picking on me.

“I’m guessing you called Natalie since you hung up on me earlier.” He elbows me gently, which normally wouldn’t cause me to stumble but since I’m in these awful heels I teater just a tad. Someone grabs my waist to help me rebalance but it’s gone as soon as it was there, snapping my head to the side I catch a glimpse of Jimin walking past. Maybe I just imagined it, I mean it was super quick.

“I call passenger!” Jungkook screams and goes running for my car. Taehyung is right behind him as they race for the spot. Looking over at Namjoon he mouths out ‘good luck’ as he gets into Jin’s car. Great….

Jungkook whips out his phone and instantly starts to play music over the bluetooth. In the backseat Taehyung and Jimin sing along and dance. We haven’t even left the parking lot yet. Buckling up, Jungkook just tells me to follow behind Jin. There’s no questions asked but instead we have our own karaoke montage. Anything from their early music to new music by American artists. Thankfully we make it to the restaurant in no time.

As soon as we make it into the private room, I take the seat beside Namjoon and tap his shoulder firmly. That was a long car ride and we only went ten minutes down the road. It’s like he can read my mind as he pours me a small glass of soju. Smoothing my skirt down, I sit down and accept his offer of apology. Sipping the glass slowly the seat next to me gets taken by Jungkook quickly as Taehyung and Jimin snag the seats across from me. I can’t lie that the ride was fun but it was chaotic. I never realized how much energy they all have, not just Jungkook.

“Did all of the maknae have fun?” Yoongi chuckles as he looks through the menu. Shrugging my shoulders I continue to sip my glass and read through the menu.

“We might steal noona on the way back though. She hasn’t gotten to explore much since she just got here.” My eyes widen as I choke on my drink slightly. This was definitely not something I planned on doing. Jungkook turns to me with a twinkle in his eyes but this time I have to say no. There’s too many risks.

“I’m sorry Jungkook, maybe another time. I don’t think it’s such a good idea for all of us to go out. We could get spotted, I could get in trouble with BigHit. Maybe another time okay?”

The pout that forms on his lips makes me want to instantly take back everything I said but I can’t. Maybe after I get on good terms with everyone at the company then I can possibly take him up on the offer of exploring.

“Listen to her Jungkookie. The last thing we want is for y/n to not even start her first day and get in trouble.” Yoongi comments to relieve me from the instant guilt I feel from telling him no. Listening to his hyung he nods and starts to talk with Hoseok. Smiling, I look back down at the menu and breath deeply. Looking through my lashes I notice Jimin and Taehyung looking at me discreetly. Or at least trying to. What if Jimin told him about the picture? Mentally I smack myself because I know that I’m being a little paranoid. If there was a problem Namjoon would’ve said something already.

After placing our orders, the room is filled with laughter and numerous stories. I try to chime in here and there but I’m too interested in listening. So I sit quietly in my chair as Namjoon and I work on a bottle of wine that he’s ordered. Everyone seems to be having fun so the atmosphere is light and bubbly. I lean over and turn my head away from everyone to whisper to Namjoon.

“This is probably the wine talking, but what you all have is special.” A gentle smile rest on both of our faces as I turn to take in the rest of the members. They are all smiling and seem to be carefree despite their hectic and unpredictable lives. An occupational hazard of being an idol.

“It’s been a struggle, you know that. I feel like we’re finally at a place where our music helps others.” The sincerity in his voice makes me nod in agreement as goosebumps form under my sleeves.

“It does, more than you all know.” Smiling brightly at him, I look across and notice that the maknaes have been watching the small conversation between us. Taehyung seems to be watching closer than the other two but he turns away quickly when Hoseo calls for him.

Letting out the breath I had been holding in, the food comes out in platters on the table. Everyone starts to fill their plates as the conversations still seem to pour out. I nibble on my food, too much wine in my system, as I listen to them recall day from their debut times. My heart clenches as I want to comment on their first performance in the states but Namjoon and I both made an agreement. One that I plan on keeping.

“You’re quiet y/n, is everything okay?”

“Huh, oh yeah everything’s fine Jimin. I’m just taking everything in.”

“Did I tell you guys that y/n went to a concert of ours back in the states?” Jimin smiles as he looks at me straight on. His tone isn’t mean in any way, more like playful teasing but I can’t help the blush forming on my face.

“Ah, my sisters and I went to one. It was amazing! Probably one of the best nights of our lives.” Nervously I reach for my chopsticks and start poking at the food on my plate. I feel my phone buzz in my bag but I ignore it as I try to divert attention away from me.

“It looked like it. What was your favorite song on the setlist?”

“Fire, for sure. It was…” I stop midway through to try and process how I felt seeing my choreo performed. My heart was racing as I sang along with every word and tried not to dance along as well. There was a surge of energy and pure adrenaline that kept me up for hours after the concert.

“Something else. I guess seeing all the hard work that was put into the song and choreo...there’s no other feeling greater than that.” Tilting my head to the side a large smile forms as I look back up at everyone. The sincerity in my answer seems to resonate with the members as they all nod in agreement. We continue eating our dinner in a peaceful silence. Relaxing into my chair I suck in a breath of relief.

Once dinner is over and the drinks have ran dry, a few of the members excuse themselves to go to the restroom or are trying to get ready to leave. For the first time I’m left alone with Jin and it’s fun. Everyone else makes fun of him for his dad jokes but yet I love them. Laughing up a storm, I look around for anyone else but it seems they’re all waiting.

“I guess I need to get the bill. Everyone seems to be waiting outside.”

“They have to wait for us either way since we are the two that drove. But about the bill…Yoongi may or may not have already paid while we were sitting here.” Jin gently shrugs his shoulders as I facepalm myself. This was supposed to be my way of thanking everyone for helping. He stands from the table and motions with his head to follow him.

Groaning I stand up and grab my bag tightly. Standing next to Jin is slightly intimidating even with these heels on. He opens the front door for me and I bow in thanks as we meet with group. Yoongi scratches at the back of his head as I shoot him a slight annoyed glare. But my eyes soften as I get closer to him.

“Thank you Yoongi. This was supposed to be my treat though.” I say quietly as I stand in front of him, still not quiet eye level.

“Just go easy on us.” He finishes with a wink and goes towards Jin’s car. It seems like this is our que to head back to the dorms. Halfway skipping and partially stumbling because of these stupid heels, I open the driver door and plop down.

As soon as the car starts, all four of us sing along to some random song playing on the radio. Of course the other three sound amazing compared to me but it makes the drive go by quicker. That and the fact that it’s late and not many people are out. My eyes bulge out slightly at the time displayed on the dashboard...it’s almost 10:30. I can’t believe we were at dinner for almost four hours, that’s insane. But I guess it makes sense considering there were eight of us.

“Are we going to be starting everything on Monday?” Taehyung yells over the music causing me to turn it down and interrupt Jimin and Jungkook’s mini concert.

“Yes. But first I have a meeting with all the department heads. After that I’ll do a run through with each of you individually. Hoseok will show you the video while I’m gone.”

They all seem to absorb everything I’m saying as I pull into a parking spot. Jungkook and Taehyung jump out of the car as I let out a deep sigh before turning off the car. Jimin moves just as slowly as I do. I can’t tell whether he’s tired or is bored, but I’m not going to interrogate him. Opening my door, I lock the car as I watch the swarm of men walk through the doors. Instead of following them, I walk over to a bench that’s nestled between two trees on the edge of the building.

Sitting down slowly, I crane my neck back so I can look up at the night sky. Back at home if you stayed out late enough you could see a sky full of stars but there are too many lights for that here. Stargazing has been a nightly occurrence for the past few months. These past few months I’ve been working around the clock and running on coffee. It’s nice to see that all of that hard work finally got me here but the exhaustion is definitely catching up to me.

“You’ll catch a cold if you stay out here too long without a jacket.”

Snapping my head over my hair spills over my face and I let out a huff of annoyance. Reaching into my bag, I pull out my backup hairtie and pull it into a high ponytail. Jimin takes the empty seat next to me and looks up at the sky as well. Silently I’m thankful that he doesn’t want to lecture me any further or have a conversation. Returning my gaze upwards I hear Jimin take in a deep breath.

There’s a tension in the air. It feels like both of us want to say something but we are too afraid too. Turning my head slowly I look at the man beside me and I instantly snap my head back. My cheeks feel hot and my stomach does a flip. All of this feels like a dream, one that I’m going to wake up from at any moment. But yet here I am.

“Let’s head inside. Last thing I want is for the famous Park Jimin to catch a cold before I get a chance to work with him.”

Standing up simultaneously I turn my head to the side and show him a small smile. He musters a nod as he walks beside me quietly. Warmth hits us as we enter the building and I don’t realize how cold I was until my hands start shaking. Jimin hits all the buttons for us as we ride in complete silence as we reach his floor.

“Good night Jimin.”

“Good night y/n.”

The doors close as he’s still looking at me and I let out a breath I had been holding. Monday is going to be a challenge. Could he be questioning my credibility? Or my skill all together. I know that I danced with them for a song and then let them watch the choreo I made. But I know better than anyone that people can look talented by those but turn out to be a complete fraud. Practicing the same thing over and over again will make you a pro at that one thing.

The beeping of the elevator pulls me from my head as I march to my front door. Excitement rushes through my veins at the thought of taking off my shoes and changing into something more...well me. The apartment is quiet as I make my way back to my bedroom and change into my pajamas.

Before I know it, I’m huddled up in my blankets reading through the twenty emails I missed from BigHit while I was out today. I’ll give them credit, as a company they stay in constant contact and make sure everyone is on the same page with each and every department. And everyone knows the schedule of the others.

‘BigHit Monday Schedule:

8:00-9:30 Meeting in main conference room

9:45-12:45 BTS training with y/n in dance room 1

12:45-1:45 Lunch

2:00-3:15 BTS fitting with stylist

3:30-5:00 Individual schedules

5:15-6:30 Studio time

Any activity after 6:30 is considered free time/training time.’

They weren’t kidding when they said they had busy schedules. I get them for three hours on Monday and that’s it. I’ll have to step up my game then. Maybe I’ll get more time throughout the week because I’ll need way more time than 15 hours a week. But if that’s all I get then I’ll have to make some changes to the choreo.

Looks like this is going to be more of a challenge than I originally thought. But I’ve never been one to shy away from a challenge.

#BTS jimin #jimin x reader #park jimin #bts smut #bts fanfic

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valdomarx · 5 years

Note

If you’re taking prompts??? Captain Stevens and Doctor Potts + undercover missions that make them realize something unexpected about each other. (:

They’re in a bank vault in Switzerland; one of those places where very rich people can store just about anything with no questions asked as long as they have enough money.

And right now they’re pretty sure someone is hiding enriched plutonium down here, based on the insistent pinging of the Geiger counter watch Potts designed for Stevens.

Potts is distracting the guard with his charms, because of course his French is better than Stevens’. He makes sure the guard is facing him and they chat about movies while Stevens sneaks down to the basement sublevels below. Even over here in Europe they love Jaws, it turns out.

Everything seems fine until Potts hears a crackling message over his earpiece. “Potts. Bit of a problem. One of the doors down here has an electronic lock.”

Potts swears under his breath. He’s currently occupied and there’s no way Stevens will be able to hack the electronics by himself.

He thinks fast. He persuades the guard to go fetch them both a cup of coffee and hurries down to the sublevels to help.

“Alright, Stevens, try to hold on. I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he hisses under his breath.

But when he reaches the basement a few minutes later, he finds Stevens has taken off the panel and is up to his elbows in wiring.

“Just a second,” Stevens calls, and then he smiles triumphantly when he touches two wires together and the door slides open.

Potts stares in astonishment. “How did you know how to do that?”

Stevens winks at him. “I picked up a few things here and there.”

“But you’re terrible with technology. Everyone knows that.”

“I’ll have you know, I’m a man of many skills,” Stevens says, giving him a look of mock offense. Then his face softens. “I learned it from watching you.”

–

They’re at a gala ball, of all things. They’ve been sent to locate and surveil the Ukrainian ambassador, who SHIELD believes is working with AIM operatives.

But the ballroom is large and the guestlist was extensive, so it’s hard to find anyone in the crowd.

Potts gets tired of trying to squeeze between guests at the buffet and suggests they move to the center of the dance floor for a better view.

Stevens frowns and indicates the well-dressed attendees around them. “I think all these people might notice if we tread on each other’s toes while dancing. I doubt we could fit in with this lot.”

Potts shrugs one shoulder. “Speak for yourself. I know how to waltz.”

“Potts, you can dance?”

Stevens looks bizarrely overjoyed at that discovery.

“Yes?” Potts offers, not quite seeing what the fuss is about. “My mother was very keen that I learned what she called ‘all the essential comportments of a young man.’”

Stevens tilts his head to one side. “You are full of surprises.”

Potts isn’t sure what to make of that, but he doesn’t have to think of a reply as Stevens hustles him towards the dance floor.

“Come on then,” Stevens says, cheerfully taking his hand. “You lead, I’ll follow.”

Potts can’t imagine Stevens following anyone, least of all him, but they make their way onto the floor anyway. Stevens is scanning the crowd, looking for their target. They need to blend in, so he puts one hand on Stevens’ waist and clasps the other at shoulder level.

It feels sort of nice, actually. Stevens’ hand is calloused and warm in his and he’s smiling unguardedly.

When the music starts they move together, and it’s smoother than Potts would have thought possible. The slightest pressure from his hand and Stevens responds, swaying back and forth in perfect time, the two of them moving as one.

He feels daring and drops Stevens into a dip. Stevens grins wildly as he leans back, trusting Potts to hold him up. When Potts pulls him upright again and into a twist, there’s a moment where their bodies align perfectly and Potts can feel every inch of Stevens from head to toe.

He feels Stevens breathing heavily, and he’s sure the dancing can’t be that exerting for a man who runs marathons at the weekends for fun.

Potts surreptitiously looks around the pairs of dancers, searching for the ambassador. Still no sign of him in the crowd.

The music is reaching its peak, so he leads Stevens into a spin. Stevens takes the move with grace, unfurling his arms with a flourish before rolling back in. Potts takes hold of him and drops him into a final dip as the music ends.

They stay frozen in place for a moment, Stevens leaned back in Potts arms, the two of them looking at each other, neither quite ready to be done even though the music has finished and all the other dancers are returning to their seats or to the bar.

“You really are full of surprises,” Stevens says, and it comes out breathy.

They never do find the ambassador that night.

–

They’re on the cold docks of Rotterdam, and in the dark of the night the city lights are reflected in the dirty water below.

It’s quiet as they sneak between the shipping containers, piled high up into the sky. After days of tedious recon work posing as dock workers, they’ve found the name of the ship that’s been smuggling in heroin. Now they just have to find the right container in the darkness.

Potts has already slipped a locating beacon into one of the containers which he should be able to track with his handheld receiver. But the receiver is playing up, the signal fading in and out, and he smacks the side of it to try and reset it.

What happens next is Potts’ own fault, really. Stevens is checking the perimeter and Potts is so focused on the device in front of him that he’s not paying attention to his surroundings.

So it’s on him when he hears a soft click and feels the cold, hard weight of a gun muzzle pressed to the back of his head.

“Don’t move,” a gruff voice says.

Potts sighs and holds up his hands, knowing when he’s beat.

“Stevens!” the voice calls. “We know you’re out there. Give yourself up now or the nerd gets it!”

Potts is pushed out into the open, gun still at his head. It’s not very dignified.

He hears Stevens’ footsteps hurrying toward their location. And then, across the gap between two containers, he sees Stevens approaching, vibrating with fury. “If you lay a finger on him,” Stevens warns, voice cold as ice, “I’ll kill you.”

The man holding the gun sniggers, an ugly, guttural sound. “I’m the one in control here, klootzak!”

Potts sees the plan forming in Stevens’ head. He sees Stevens look at him, look at the man holding the gun, look down at the trash can he’s standing beside. He sees Stevens make the calculations.

Please tell me he’s not doing what I think he’s doing, Potts thinks, but he learned long ago that no plan is too stupid or too dangerous for Stevens to consider.

Stevens grabs the lid off the trash can and holds it in front of him. Potts is almost certain the flimsy metal is too thin to stop a bullet.

“Let him go and I’ll let you leave here in one piece,” Stevens snarls.

The man keeps his arm clamped around Potts’ neck but turns so the gun aimed at Stevens rather than Potts. Stevens smirks like that was just what he wanted.

“I’m right here if you think you can take me,” Stevens says, because of course he has to antagonize the man further.

“You would risk your own life for this -” the man looks Potts up and down and sneers, “for this loser?”

Harsh, thinks Potts. Possibly true, but still harsh.

“In a heartbeat,” Stevens says. And that makes Potts’ head spin around, because Stevens had sounded entirely earnest and one hundred percent sure.

“You would?” Potts asks, even though now is clearly not the time.

Stevens smiles at him very gently. “You ought to know by now, Potts,” he says, “there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

Potts’ heart does something funny at that.

“For heavens’ sake,” the man interrupts. “I’m in the middle of threatening your lives here.”

Stevens’ attention snaps back to the gun. “I’m not worried,” he says coolly, and Potts is glad about that because he sure is. “Potts knows what to do.”

Potts opens his mouth to object, because he really doesn’t know what to do, but then he catches Stevens’ eye and he understands. Stevens gives him the most minute nod.

“You back off or I’ll shoot -” the man starts.

But Stevens is already moving, leaping toward a crate with the trash bin lid held in front of him like a shield.

The man starts shooting, wild and inaccurate, and Potts takes his opportunity and elbows him as hard as he can in the ribs.

He gives a surprised oof and he’s turning round to point the gun at Potts again, but then Stevens curls and unravels and sends the trash can lid sailing towards them at tremendous speed. The edge of the metal hits the man in the head with a very satisfying whack and he drops to his knees.

“Good shot, Stevens!” Potts cheers, and Stevens is at his side in an instant, finishing the guy with a vicious uppercut that knocks him clean out.

He falls to the ground with a thud. Stevens kicks the gun away from the unconscious man and then his hands are all over Potts: on his face, running through his hair, up and down his shoulders.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, thanks to you.” Potts beams at Stevens. “My hero,” he says, a little more syrupy than he intended.

Stevens puts an arm around his shoulder and pulls him into a one-armed hug. “My idiot,” he says, dropping a kiss onto Potts’ ruffled hair.

#tony starkrogers #stevetony #stony #doctor potts & captain stevens #replies #my writing #toot toot i'm still on this AU train

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superwholock-marvel-images · 4 years

Text

Through time and space 14

You scroll through your messages, it turns out your family went back to Bobby’s and that Dean finished up fixing the Impala. You smile when you see the picture Katie sent, the picture is of Dean leaning against the hood of the car smiling like an idiot. You dial Katie’s number and press call.

“Hey (Nickname).” Katie says answering the phone.

“Hi, so Dean actually got on a plane?” You say in response walking away from the control room.

“Yeah, about a day after you left with the Doctor. Thanks for that by the way.”

“How long did it take you to notice I was gone?”

“Not that long.” You then notice that you’re farther than you wanted to be… you somehow ended up by the swimming pool.

“Well shit.” You say, confusing Katie.

“What?” She asks.

“I went the wrong way… instead of going to my room, I ended up at the swimming pool with no idea how to get back to the control room.” Katie snickers. “Not funny Katie.”

“It kind of is.” You groan, before losing your footing for a moment. You tell your sister you’ll call her back later. You manage to find the control room again.

“What just happened?” You ask.

“She’s dead. The TARDIS is dead.” The Doctor mournfully says. You notice that Rose is gone, and you notice the green light coming from underneath the control.

“I don’t think the TARDIS is all dead just mostly dead.” You say you smile a little bit when you realize you made a Princess Bride reference. “I say that because of that blinking green light.”

“Green light?” The Doctor asks. He follows where you’re looking and starts rummaging around. “That’s all we need. We’ve got power! Y/N, Mickey, we’ve got power! Ha!” The Doctor looks like a kid at Christmas. The madman that owns the magic blue box says it lives, confusing Mickey.

“What?” Mickey asks.

“The TARDIS isn’t a machine Mickey, it’s alive.” You explain.

“It’s tiny. One of those insignificant little power cells that no one ever bothers about, and it’s clinging to life, with one little ounce of reality tucked away inside.” The Doctor says.

“Enough to get us home?” Mickey asks.

“Not yet. I need to charge it up.”

“We could go outside and lash it up to the National Grid.”

“Wrong sort of energy. It’s got to come from our universe.”

“But we don’t have anything.”

“There’s me.” The Doctor cradles the green light in his hands and blows on it. The light gets brighter. “I just gave away ten years of my life. Worth every second.”

“So the TARDIS is recharging how long does that give us?” You ask.

“24 hours give or take.”

“In that case let’s take a look around.” When the group splits up you go with Mickey instead of Rose or the Doctor.

“Why’d you come with me?” Mickey asks.

“Because I have no interest in meeting Rose’s dad or staying in the TARDIS, besides you’re always ending up forgotten, somehow.” You reply. Mickey chuckles.

“Thanks, Y/N.” He says.

🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝

Unsurprisingly you and Mickey get into a bit of a situation. The two of you get mistaken for someone you’re not.

“What the hell are you doing with Y/N Holmes, Ricky?” The person who snagged you and Mickey asks.

“I think you’ve gotten us confused with someone else.” You say. “I’m Y/N Winchester and this is Mickey.”

“I know the wife of Mycroft Holmes when I see her.” You wrinkle your nose slightly- why the hell would you marry Mycroft? Mickey rolls with it.

You pull your gun out of the waistband of your jeans and fire a few shots into the ceiling causing everyone to freeze. “I will put away the gun when you untie my friend and stop calling me by someone else’s name.” You say in a calm tone of voice. “Yes, my name is Y/N, however, I am not a Holmes.”

“Y/N Holmes can’t shoot worth crap boss.” One of the men says. “I reckon that we should do what she says.” The man called Ricky reluctantly agrees. They free Mickey he looks a bit scared of you.

“Do you always keep that thing on you?” He asks.

“Pretty much. Now, let’s figure out what in hell’s name is happening.”

After awhile everyone is reunited and the Doctor explains Cybermen. “This day keeps getting better and better.” You sarcastically state.

“Y/N.” Rose says. “Not the time.” You roll your eyes as your phone goes off. You dig it out of your pocket and look at the contact and just simply turn off your phone.

“They don’t need to know about this.” You mutter as you put your phone away.

“Your family?”

“Yeah.” You then notice all the people lined up outside on the street. “Oh my god.”

“What?”

“Take a look.” Everyone does so and the look the Doctor has on his face is ‘oh shit’ once out of the van you go with Rose, the Doctor, and Pete (Rose’s dad). The four of you duck in an alleyway behind trash cans. The Doctor uses his sonic to confuse the Cybermen walking past.

🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝

Mickey says he doesn’t want to be the tin dog anymore. “What do you mean by a tin dog?” You ask. Mickey shakes his head not answering the question.

“If we survive this, I’ll see you back at the TARDIS.” The Doctor says, grabbing your arm and running off with you and Mrs. Moore. The three of you head to the cooling tunnels. You button up the flannel you’re wearing, glad that you decided to wear one of your brothers’.

“It’s freezing.” Mrs. Moore says.

“Any sign of a light switch?” The Doctor asks.

“No, nothing.” You reply.

“I’ve got these. A device for every occasion.” Mrs. Moore hands both you and the Doctor a flashlight on a headband. Both of you put them on.

“Haven’t got a hotdog in there, have you? I’m starving.” The Doctor says causing you to roll your eyes.

“Of all the things to wish for. That’s mechanically recovered meat.”

“I know. It’s the Cyberman of food, but it’s tasty.”

“Doctor focus.” You say.

“Right, of course, sorry Y/N.” The Doctor replies. “Let’s see where we are.” Cybermen line the walls. You let out a small gasp. “Already converted, just put on ice. Come on.”

“Are you sure those things aren’t activated?” You ask. The man from the planet Gallifrey taps on a face of a Cyberman. No reaction.

“Let’s go slowly. Keep an eye out for trip systems.” The Doctor advises. He then makes small talk with Mrs. Moore. “How did you get into this, then, rattling along with the Preachers?”

“Oh, I used to be ordinary. Worked at Cybus Industries, nine to five, until one day, I find something I’m not supposed to. A file on the mainframe. All I did was read it. Then suddenly I’ve got men with guns knocking in the middle of the night. Life on the run. Then I found the Preachers. They needed a techie, so I just sat down and taught myself everything.” Mrs. Moore replies.

“What about Mr. Moore?”

“Well, he’s not called Moore. I got that from a book, Mrs. Moore. It’s safer not to use real names. But he thinks I’m dead. It was the only way to keep him safe. Him and the kids. What about you two? Got any family, or…?”

“I’ve got three older siblings. Mom died when I was little and my dad died fairly recently.” You reply.

“Oh, who needs a family? I’ve got the whole world on my shoulders. Go on, then. What’s your real name?” The Doctor adds in.

“Angela Price. Don’t tell a soul.” Mrs. Moore, well Angela replies.

“Your secret is safe with us.” You say.

“Doctor, did that one just move?” Angela asks shining her flashlight at one of the Cybermen.

“It’s just the torchlight. Keep going, come on.” The Doctor replies as another Cyberman comes towards you three. “They’re waking up. Run!”

The three of you climb up a latter to somewhere safer at least for the moment. The Doctor seals the trapdoor with his screwdriver. You guys walk along a corridor where there’s a lone Cyberman. “You are not upgraded.” It says.

“Yeah? Well, upgrade this.” Angela retorts. She throws a small rod with copper wire wrapped around it at the Cyberman. It sticks to the metal and the Cyberman jerks, then sparks and collapses.

“What the hell was that thing?” You ask.

“Electromagnetic bomb. Takes out computers, I figured it might stop the cyber-suit.”

“You figured right. Now, let’s have a look. Know your enemy. A logo on the front. Lumic’s turned them into a brand. Heart of steel, but look.” The Doctor replies as he removes the logo boss on the chest. Inside is not just electronics.

“Is that flesh?!” You ask, your voice an octave higher than normal.

“Hmmm. Central nervous system. Artificially grown then threaded throughout the suit so it responds like a living thing. Well, it is a living thing. Oh, but look. Emotional inhibitor. Stops them feeling anything.”

“Why?” Angela asks.

“It’s still got a human brain. Imagine its reaction if it could see itself, realize itself inside this thing. They’d go insane.”

“So they cut out the one thing that makes them human.”

“Because they have to.”

“I’m going to be sick.” You declare. Seems like nobody hears you because the Cyberman starts to speak.

“Why am I cold?” You almost start to cry- there is still a human somewhere in that Cyberman suit.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” The Doctor mutters.

“Why so cold?”

“Can you remember your name?”

“Sally. Sally Phelan.”

“You were a woman…” You say in a soft yet broken voice.

“Where’s Gareth?” The Cyberman, well Sally asks.

“Who’s Gareth?” The Doctor asks.

“He can’t see me. It’s unlucky the night before.” You’re heart literally shatters. This woman was going to be married before she the Cybermen ‘upgraded’ her. “I’m cold. I’m so cold.”

“It’s all right. You sleep now, Sally. Just go to sleep.” The Doctor says, as he puts the sonic screwdriver inside the chest cavity and switches her off. “Sally Phelan didn’t die for nothing because that’s the key. The emotional inhibitor. If we could find the code behind it, the cancellation code, then feed it throughout the system into every Cyberman’s head, they’d realize what they are.”

When Angela stands up, a Cyberman grabs her shoulders and electrocutes her. “Sensors detect a binary vascular system. You are an unknown upgrade. You will be taken for analysis.” The Cyberman says to the both of you. You share a look with the Doctor, you’re glad that you’re not dead (yet) but you’re also confused about why you’re not dead. You should’ve read as a human on the Cyberman’s sensors.

“We’ve been captured, but don’t worry, Rose and Pete are still out there. They can rescue us.” The Doctor tells you as the two of you are lead to a control room. Unfortunately Rose and Pete are already there. “Oh well, never mind. You okay?”

“Yeah. But they got Jackie.” Rose answers.

“Where’s Mickey then?” You ask. Rose shrugs. Pete says that his boss upgraded her. The Doctor then asks where is the man in charge of all of this. He comes out as a Cyberman in an upgraded wheelchair.

The Doctor talks for awhile before saying: “Oh, Lumic, you’re a clever man. I’d call you a genius, except I’m in the room. But everything you’ve invented, you did to fight your sickness. And that’s brilliant. That is so human. But once you get rid of sickness and mortality, then what’s there to strive for, eh? The Cybermen won’t advance. You’ll just stop. You’ll stay like this forever. A metal Earth with metal men and metal thoughts, lacking the one thing that makes this planet so alive. People. Ordinary, stupid, brilliant people.”

“You are proud of your emotions.” The Cyberman in the wheelchair points out.

“Oh, yes.”

“Then tell me, Doctor. Have you known grief, and rage, and pain?”

“Yes. Yes, I have.”

“And they hurt?”

“Oh, yes.”

“I could set you free. Would you not want that? A life without pain?”

“You might as well kill me.”

“Then I take that option.”

“Doctor?” You ask. The time lord throws you a look, shutting you up.

“It’s not yours to take. You’re a Cyber Controller. You don’t control me or anything with blood in its heart.” The Doctor says to the Cyberman.

“You have no means of stopping me. I have an army. A species of my own.” The Cyberman explains.

“You just don’t get it, do you? An army’s nothing. Because those ordinary people, they’re the key. The most ordinary person could change the world.” You manage a scared smile. “Some ordinary man or woman, some idiot. All it takes is for him to find, say- the right numbers. The right codes. For example, the code behind the emotional inhibitor. The code right in front of him.”

“What’s he doing?” You whisper to Rose. Your best friend shrugs in response.

“Even an idiot knows how to use computers these days.” The Doctor states, you then realize he’s referring to Mickey. “Knows how to get past firewalls and passwords. Knows how to find something encrypted in the Lumic Family Database, under er… what was it, Pete? Binary what?”

“Binary Nine.” Pete replies.

“An idiot could find that code. Cancellation code and he’d keep on typing. Keep on fighting. Anything to save his friends.”

“Your words are irrelevant.” The head Cyberman says. The Doctor shrugs.

“Yeah, talk too much, that’s my problem. Lucky I got you that cheap tariff, Rose, for all our long chats.”

“You will be deleted.”

“Yes. Delete, control, hash. All those lovely buttons. Then, of course, my particular favorite, send. And let’s not forget how you seduced all those ordinary people in the first place.” Rose’s phone goes off, she pulls it out of her pocket and looks at it. “By making every bit of technology compatible with everything else.”

“It’s for you.” Rose says handing the Doctor her phone.

“Like this.” The Doctor puts the phone into a docking station, which it miraculously fits. The code is transmitted and the Cybermen cry out in pain. The code appears on every computer screen. Cybermen everywhere look like they are in pain. The Doctor gave the converted Cybermen back their humanity.

🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝

“I have never been more happy to see that big blue box.” You say. Your moment of happiness is gone when you hear Mickey say that he would like to stay behind in this parallel world to look after his gran. The Doctor hands Mickey, Rose’s phone so he can continue destroying the Cybermen in this world.

“I guess if we ever get stuck here again we have some allies on our side.” You say with a watery smile. “Guess we’ll see you around Mick.”

“Look after those siblings of yours Y/N.” Mickey replies pulling you into a brief hug. With that, you walk into the TARDIS.

The TARDIS lands in the Tyler’s flat and Rose pulls her mother into a hug, relieved that she’s okay.

“Where’s Mickey?” Jackie asks.

“He went home.” You answer. “Thinking of home, I should get back to my family.”

“Need a lift?” The Doctor asks.

“Yeah. That would be great.”

______

@haletotheking22

@the-third-winchester-warrior

@flannels-and-rocksalt

@always-keep-writing-spn

@winchesters-favorite-girl

@caroldanversinatardis

@spnnolifegirl

@thewinsisterchronicles

@simply-wins-little-sis

@moose-and-sqruille-lover

@platonic-plots

#superwholock #supernatural #winchester sister #sam and dean #supernatural brother sister moment #through time and space #cybermen #dr who #bbc sherlock #part 14

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