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sl-newsie · 8 months

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Query: Q x 00 Agent- Ch. 3: Whatever It Takes

The next day I have to head back to MI6 for one last training session, where I run into Bond.

“You’re off to Hong Kong now?” I pant as I dab my sweaty face off.

Bond gives a stiff nod. “And you, little Levie, are off to Ireland. I’m guessing Q treated you well, Mrs. White?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Haha, very funny. Did you think I’d like him because he’s younger?”

The older agent simply shrugs and the gleam in his eye is undisguisable.

“Bravo, Bond. You’ve still got a sense of humor.”

We keep walking to the office space in a comfortable silence. “Joking aside, congratulations on your first solo mission,” Bond says sincerely. “It’s a big moment for you. Still, I’ll be sad to not have you with me. You’re one of my favorite partners.”

I playfully punch his shoulder. “Because I keep your ego in check?”

“Because you’re the only one I treat like a sister.”

I grin. “Aw. Big brother’s going to miss me.”

Once we’ve gotten to the office center we both spot Q, Eve, and M waiting for us.

“Say goodbye, Bond.” M instructs. “This may be the last time you two see each other.”

Bond and I exchange looks. I must say I am nervous about being on my own, but Bond’s prepared me well.

“Good luck, Bond. The whole force is counting on you, no pressure.”

“Goodbye, Levie.” Bond gives my hand a sturdy shake. “You don’t need luck, because I know you’ll do brilliant. You’re still young, but healthily spirited. Just don’t let your heart get in the way.”

With that, he follows M down the hall and for the first time we go our separate ways.

“Is he still mad at me for shooting him?” Eve asks.

“Hasn’t mentioned it, at least not to me. But I do know one thing:” I look up with a slightly defiant demeanor. “If I had been on that mission with Bond, I would have jumped off that bridge after him. I don’t care what M says, I don’t leave a man behind.” I look at Q and ask: “When do I leave for Ireland?”

“In one hour. I will quickly brief you on a few last minute updates on your way to the airport.”

“You won't be accompanying me, husband?” I bring up the repeating joke as we start walking out.

It either flies over his head or he ignores it. “I don’t like flying.”

“It’s rather accelerating,” I comment as we enter a company SUV. “You should try it again. It makes you think.”

Q sets his face straight and begins looking through some paper files in his bag. “I can do much better thinking at home with my cats.”

Huh. Nerd guy who sits at a computer desk with cats. Who knew?

“You seem like a cat person. I respect that.”

Q accepts my statement with a small grin. “At least there’s one person who does.”

The quick trip through the airport flashes by, and soon enough I’m seated in first class and headed off to Ireland. From what Q tells me, I am to penetrate a secret lab and retrieve a formula for a new type of cyanide. Not as extreme as Bond’s assignment, but I’m still excited. Over the flight, Q apparently took the liberty of placing a few audio books in my bag.

“Hello, 0011. Or Levie, as Bond called you. I still prefer Mrs. White. I’ve recorded a few history books to entertain you for the duration of your flight, because I picture you as more of a history fan rather than a science geek such as myself. Your options are: The American Revolution, World War II, or the Spanish Civil War.”

I chose World War II and am surprised to find that I actually enjoy Q lecturing about history. Something about his voice makes it seem like a hobby rather than a chore. Maybe it’s because he’s younger? Why am I becoming friends with my Quartermaster?

In an hour I arrive in Dublin and meet up with my contact at a local pub called The Cobblestone. He’s a local Paddy with a thick accent, who tells me that the best way for me to sneak into the lab is through the sewer tunnels much to my distaste.

“What I’m wondering is why a lass like you is charged with this mission,” the man thinks out loud.

I down the whiskey I’ve ordered and narrow my eyes. “Don’t underestimate a 00 agent.”

Nighttime falls and my nerves are a jumbled mess. Unlike Bond I don’t always dress in fancy attire for missions. Instead I’m sporting a long-sleeved black jumpsuit with dress flats. Less stylish, but effective. I station myself a few yards from the sewer entrance outside the lab. After I put in my earpiece both M and Q’s voices ring in my ear.

“Voice check, please,” Q requests.

“Good evening lady and gentleman. Tonight’s forecast calls for one 00 agent and the loss of one cyanide formula. Possible celebration may be sighted in the morning.”

“Very cute,” Q replies dryly. “I expect you’re dressed for the occasion?”

I smirk from behind the tree I’m using to hide. “Wouldn’t you like to know, dear?”

“Can we cut the jibber jabber and focus?” M states harshly. “0011, are you in position?”

My agent instincts kick in and I stiffen up. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. You are clear to proceed.”

Thankfully the sewer entrance doors aren’t locked, but I wish it didn’t smell so putrid. It seems luck is on my side because there are no lights to expose my location. However there is one security camera.

“Q, I’d very much appreciate it if you could disable the camera.”

On the other end I hear the nerd chuckle. “Oh? I thought you liked drawing attention to yourself.”

“Just kill the bloody camera!”

He does so without another word and soon the blinking light on the camera dies. I keep scrolling through the checklist in my mind of everything I need to accomplish, deciding that I can continue on. Once I scale down the ladder into the inky darkness I switch on my night vision contact lenses. I have a few rat friends to accompany me but other than that there’s no security here.

“Now go to your right for about 50 paces, then turn left,” Q voices in my ear.

“0011, there appears to be a maximum of only 5 guards in the area you will be infiltrating,” M adds.

Only 5? Bond and I have a record of taking out 50 in 10 minutes. But a rookie mission is a rookie mission.

Now I’ve arrived at a small door. Still no sign of trouble.

“This leads to the boiler room,” Q informs. “No human heat signatures detected.”

There’s just one problem: the door’s lock is far beyond crackable. Normally Bond is the one for cracking locks while I stand watch, but it’s time to be adaptable. Somewhere in my pocket- I think there’s…

“0011, what’s taking so long?” M asks.

“Trying to bust the lock. Ever heard of liquid nitrogen?”

I take out a small vial and tilt it to apply the cold substance over the lock. After a few moments the metal freezes over, and after a hard kick it shatters to the floor.

“All done.”

I burst through the door holding my pistol and search for any threats in the boiler room. Only a few leaky faucets.

“We can’t scramble all the cameras in the building. You should be on their radar now. If anyone asks, you are here for an appointment with Dr. Lambert,” M says. “Mention Project Ares.”

“Seems like a rather late appointment,” I comment as I make my way up the stairs and out of the room. “Where to now?”

Q speaks up. “Turn left, then take the elevator to the 5th level.”

Right as rain, the elevator is right down the hall. Unfortunately I’m not the only one riding it. There’s one older man and a younger woman who appears to be a secretary.

“Going up?” The woman asks.

“Yes, please.”

I hope for there to be no conversation on our ascent but am proven unlucky.

“That’s a lovely necklace,” the man comments.

“Thank you. It’s a gift from my husband.” I finger the blue pendant, letting it comfort my nerves.

"You're not wearing a ring?"

"I'm afraid I lost it a few weeks ago."

“Where do you work?” the secretary inquires.

I keep a steady smile. “I don’t work here. I’m visiting on account of my boss to visit Dr. Lambert.”

This surprises the older man. “Really? I didn’t think Norman took appointments this late.”

“It’s a special case. For Project Ares.”

This quiets both people and we ride the rest of the way in silence. Obviously Project Ares is a big deal. The elevator drops me off at the 5th floor and I give a wave goodbye to the two employees.

“I’m on the 5th level.”

“Good. Now go straight until you see a door marked X,” Q says.

I walk a few feet down and sure enough there’s a door with a large X on the front. You’d think this project would be hidden better. This lock may pose another issue because it’s activated by a fingerprint-

“Miss? What are you doing here?” A voice asks.

I keep my cool and pivot to find a man in a lab coat walking towards me. He looks to be in his mid-thirties, with light brown hair and a little stubble. Must be a scientist.

“Ah, yes. I was looking for Dr. Lambert. It’s about Project Ares.”

The man’s face lights up. “You must be the reporter! Yes yes, come in!”

He strides past me and swipes a card to open the door, gesturing for me to follow him. This seems too easy. The room I enter is obviously a lab, one filled with many different vials and chemistry equipment.

“Are you in?” M asks in my ear.

“I had a little help,” I whisper to keep discreet from the man behind me. “What am I looking for?”

“A test tube full of the new formula,” Q says. “Any amount of a sample. Who helped you in?”

“One of the project scientists. He thinks I’m a reporter.”

“Over here!” The man in question beckons me over to a table that displays a rack of test tubes. “My name is Watson, by the way. Daniel Watson in case you’re going to include me. But I don’t care for fame, I only want to help with the progress of science.”

Aw. I’m beginning to feel sad for stealing from you.

“Is this the new cyanide formula I heard about?” I try to sound unbearably dumb.

“Indeed it is! This is our company’s most recent accomplishment, one we boys in the lab are extremely proud of. Its symptoms are quick to take over the body’s cardiovascular system and can go undetected through drug screens.”

Thank God I have a pencil and small pad of paper in my pocket so I actually look like a reporter. I write down all highlights of his lecture while side-eyeing the tubes within an arm's reach. So close!

“Do you have any other questions?”

I zoom back to focus on Watson, trying to think of a way to sneak a vial… What would Bond do? Huh. There’s no question about what he would do. Whatever it takes to make them lower their guard.

“No, I don’t think so,” I use a more airy voice as I bat my eyelashes at the scientist. “Thank you so much, Watson! My boss will love hearing about this!” I put away my pad of paper and saunter over to the blushing man. “How can I ever repay the favor?”

He shakes his head frantically. “No, that’s not necessary. Achievement through science is it’s own reward.”

Now I’ve got him trapped against the counter. “That’s not always enough. Maybe just one kiss?”

Before he can decline I press a firm kiss to his lips, rendering him speechless. In a split-second I look to see that he has his eyes closed, right as I slip a vial into my chest pocket. When I pull away, Watson still can’t find words to say.

“Thanks again, Watson!” I wave as I strut out. “Q, M, I have it. Ready for a quick exit before they ring the alarm.”

“Right. This time you’re going to use the stairs, a few paces down to your right,” Q states.

Is it just me or is he acting a bit differently?

“Everything alright, Quartermaster?” I ask as I begin my descent.

“Peachy. Will you please continue with the mission?”

“I thought I was. Did I do something wrong?”

He doesn’t answer, which just makes me even more curious. By now I’m at the 2nd floor-

Beep! Beep! Beep!

“Bad news, folks. Watson turned traitor on me.”

“Who?” Q asks with disgust.

“Doesn’t matter. Right now I have to get out.”

“I just detonated an explosive on the south side of the building to cover your exit window. You're welcome.”

My eyebrows raise in surprise. “Thanks very much, chap. Remind me to repay the favor someday.”

“B squad, you check the bottom levels. We’ll get the upper floors!” Voices shout from below.

Uh-oh. Looks like I’ll have to take a detour to the ground floor. I make a dash for the exit and find multiple security guards scurrying all throughout the hall. The lobby is only a few yards away-

“Miss! Quick, there’s been a security breach. You must get evacuated and head home immediately,” one man in a suit informs me.

I play dumb. “Oh my goodness! What happened?”

“A bomb exploded at the end of the property so we’re evacuating all staff. Now hurry!”

Pretending to be in a jumbled panic like everyone else, I flock down the hall and am almost there-!

“Hold up! Where’s your badge?” One guy stops me just before I reach the lobby. A college jock if I ever saw one.

“Well, you see sir,” I bat my eyelashes. “I was having a private meeting with one of your employees that shall go unnamed. That’s how my business works. Technically I’m not supposed to be here, but he needed some stress relief, if you catch my drift. Do you think you could possibly look the other way and let me slip out?”

Lord save my soul. I can’t even register my own words as they pour almost too easily from my mouth. I really have learned a lot from Bond. And it must work, because the young guard is now looking at me with a new-found hunger.

“I dunno about that, but I’ll let it slide if you use that pretty mouth of yours to give me a little loving.”

It’s all I can do not to vomit. “Very well.” I take his hand and lead him to a nearby closet, locking the door behind me. “One kiss, one favor? Sounds enchanting.” I give him a blunt punch to the head and he drops to the ground, out cold. “But I’ve already had my date for the evening.”

I hide him behind a crate and sprint for the lobby, speeding through the door into the cool night air towards the rendezvous point for my getaway. Once I’ve cleared the hill and the lab is out of sight I relax. Finally! I’ve done it! My first mission-!

Bam!

The shot rings out and I stop dead in my tracks. The blood is already dripping down my pant leg. I’ve been lucky to have been shot only twice before, both in the arm. But this is my first leg injury. And I don’t like it.

The guard who’s holding the gun is standing a short distance behind me. “I won’t miss next time. You seemed unfamiliar when I saw you earlier. Now tell me, who are you? And don’t bother trying to sell the whole reporter scheme. Tell me who you’re working for!”

Bond wouldn’t have gotten into this. Think, think!

I kneel down and make it seem as if I’m surrendering, then-

“Ah!”

My knife, Mrs. White, lands perfectly in the center of the guard’s chest. Thanks, Q. He topples over and, with what force I can muster with a shot leg, I jog over and knock him out cold. That’s one check off the list. But my adrenaline is wearing off and the injury’s starting to get to me.

“Q? M? Anybody copy?” I grunt as I keep walking, wanting to get to the rendezvous point as quickly as possible.

“Q here. Sorry about that, got caught up with Bond’s radio call. What’s up?”

“Agent wounded. I’ve been shot in the thigh, losing blood fast. How far away is the car?”

It’s like I flipped a switch when I said ‘shot,’ because now Q’s manner has definitely changed.

“I see your position. Keep going straight for another 50 yards, and whatever you do don’t fall asleep. Is your head spinning?”

“Starting to. I’m not sure if the bullet nicked the femoral artery, but I’m fresh out of tourniquets.”

“Stay calm, keep your breathing steady. Do you think you can last?”

I try to give a laid-back chuckle but it turns into a short coughing fit, bringing up specs of blood on my hand. “You should know, Quartermaster, that my intentions as a 00 agent keep me motivated to keep going until I literally die? Yes, I can last.”

Q is quiet for a time, leaving me to notice how heavy my breathing has gotten. My leg feels numb now, which cannot be a good thing.

“Are you still there?”

“Yes,” I answer in a tired voice. “Would you mind chatting with me so I can ignore death?”

“I’d think that you would have kicked death in the crotch by now,” Q jokes lightheartedly. “You’re almost there, just a few more yards. Don’t mess up, or you’ll be the first agent to die under my watch.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t. I’m going to rub my victory in your face when I get back.”

“There’s the 0011 I remember,” he groans. “Just get back alive.”

I’d really like to, but my head’s starting to feel even more dizzy. So much for a flawless first solo mission. Is this really how I’m going to go out? Slowly bleeding to death? I’d hoped my death would be something dramatic. Should I say goodbye to everyone? It would mean I’m accepting defeat, but I’d be disappointed not say farewell to my few friends. Bond, Eve, the other 00s, M- Q? Is Q my friend? That would be the first time I’ve been friends with my Quartermaster. It’s not like he’s unlikeable, only annoying at times. Annoying, witty, attractive-

The new thought makes me go into another coughing fit. Q, attractive? My blood loss is clearly making me delusional. He’s mildly cute at best. Wait- no. Why am I cogitating about his appealing looks? Just keep focused and stay alive!

“Q, I’m starting to see spots.” I look behind and see a pathetic trail of blood behind me.

“You’re almost there. Do you see the car yet?”

“I see a bright light-”

“No! Not that one-!”

“Just kidding. Yes, I see it.”

Q sighs. “Shut your trap and get in the bloody car before I tell them to leave you behind.”

I try to laugh but end up spitting up more blood. Now the driver of the black Jeep sees me limping towards her and she rushes over to help.

“Are you 0011?”

“Yeah. Or at least I’ll stay that way if I can stay alive.”

“Stay calm, miss! I’m going to get the stretcher-”

“Forget it. If I can walk this far I can walk 10 more feet to the back of the car.”

The driver quickly opens the rear food and I climb inside with what little strength I have left. As soon as I’m seated my eyes begin to droop and she panics.

“No, no sleeping! We need to get your wound dressed…”

Her words are drowned out by my building fatigue, and soon all I can hear is my faint heartbeat as I start to drift off. So close… Maybe if I wake up after this I’ll copy Bond and top it off with a drink…

#quartermaster x reader #quartermaster #q x reader #james bond #daniel craig #ben whishaw #skyfall #spectre #no time to die #007 #james bond 007

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kn0ckkn0ckneo · 1 year

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there are certain topics you cannot discuss w/just anyone. there is a certain level of trust, intellect or experience that is required with such topics. the spiritual, woo-woo, Death, ET-related topics are a few of mine i do not discuss w/just anyone. there is a certain level of openness & awakenness that must be present.

now, there is a topic i've been quite fond of my whole life, but haven't been truly connected to it until as of two years ago. Death. in my my life, i have had two NDE. the most recent one was about two months ago. it changed my life & mindset entirely. i have only shared this experience w/my spiritual teacher because i needed answers. i am still questing for them. looking for answers in books, in videos, in blogs- everything. i know what happened was real, but i just wanted the confirmation comparing my experience to those of others.

when you want something enough, truly want it. when you want something so maturely, so detachedly, so conscientiously... you just might get it. no matter how extreme it may be. spiritual ascension has been a theme in my life for the past three/four years & truthfully, i was tired. just tired.

the level of connection & communication i have formed w/my spirit team is beyond your imagination, i assure you that. i had spent a good while contemplating my death, the outcome of it, how can it affect everyone the least, thinking about my pets as well; just like you plan a wedding, i planned my own death, but only i wasn't going to do it myself, i asked a higher force to take care of the deed for me & my pets all together.

one night, i felt ready. i went to talk to the sky as i normally do each night & i told them, "i'm ready." we've had this conversation before, they knew what i needed done & how i wanted to go (w/my pets). so i said goodbye to the world & ended it w/much gratitude & love. i got ready for bed for the last time, did my nightly routine, kissed & hugged my pets a lot & was very grateful to each one of them. they knew, they knew. one of them, my little pisces girl, the one who has seen me almost die before, she was particularly anxious & hid under the bed. i told her it was going to be alright.

so i went to bed. at some point it started happening, i lifted from my body, but there was a silver cord attached from my soul to my body, it was slowly thinning out. i started to feel so much peace. everything was going black, pitch black & everything felt so easy & good. we made a stop. this place seemed to be what people call "paradise," as what i have now learned through my research of those who have experienced a NDE. mother Gaia at it's best. there were other "beings" there that seemed to have the shape of a human, & they felt so familiar. i felt comfortable w/them & there seemed to be some kind of preparation taking place. my cats were there too. my pisces girl was the most scared of them all. the others were happy to be there, but they were not coming w/me to the next level. they stay in paradise.

one of my "guides" asked me, "are you ready to go? i said YES. they said, "you can't take it back. if you're ready, follow me." Dorito kept walking around my legs & pushing himself onto me, wrapping his tail around my ankles, he was saying goodbye. Amparo, my pisces girl, she was so scared, my poor girl. she was in a corner under a beautiful wooden picnic table & didn't want to come out. i felt her energy saying, "please don't go." right before i decided to follow them, i said "no. i'm not staying here. i'm going back. i need to go back."

my guides knew what they were doing. they wanted me to think again about my choice. i saw their "faces" but really it was more their energy of them feeling joy on the inside. you know when you make the little smile because you got your way? like that. they were happy & proud of me to make this choice & they told me to be strong. they were not going to leave me.

then i was back. i woke up w/all my cats surrounding me. this is one of those things i probably will not ever share w/anyone i know.

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ficsnooneaskedfor · 2 years

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TW: Pet illness and loss, SA mention, pregnancy loss mention. No one needs to actually read this, I'm just feeling a lot of stuff and hoped writing about it might help.

So a week ago today I had to say goodbye to this beautiful, sweet girl named Pumpkin.

Some of you may have noticed I haven't been on tumblr much the past few months and haven't updated my fics in a very long time. Part of that has been because my mental and physical health hasn't been great thanks to long covid. But just when my health began to improve, Pumpkin's began to decline.

I took her to the vet in August because she was experiencing breathing issues and other strange symptoms. X-rays showed masses on her lungs and I was told she most likely had some form of cancer. It was a logical conclusion based on the information at the time. I was told there was a "small chance" it was something else but it was most likely cancer so I tried to prepare myself that our time together was coming to an end soon.

However, after further blood tests and consults with an internal medicine specialist, it was determined that she didn't have cancer (at least in her lungs) but something else was definitely going on with her. Without knowing what exactly we were dealing with, I consented to have a tracheal wash done on her. A tracheal wash is a procedure where a small amount of sterile solution is in put into the lungs then removed for testing. Our hope was it would help us find the cause of her symptoms and that it was something treatable like a fungal infection. I had a lot of hope that she would ultimately be okay because other than the masses on her lungs, her breathing issues, and other mild symptoms, she was actually pretty healthy.

After the tracheal wash procedure, Pumpkin was hiding a lot, started having accidents, and had severe issues with eating. She was a former stray/feral so vet trips, being around strangers, and me handling her to give meds was really frightening. I assumed she was traumatized, tried to give her space, tried anxiety meds, calming treats, and supplements but nothing helped. Then she started having difficulty walking, strange head movements, and other symptoms. It became apparent she had experienced some sort of neurologic event like a stroke but even then I was hopeful she could get better since many cats recover well from strokes within a few weeks.

A couple more weeks went by and Pumpkin was doing...okay. Some days it she seemed like she had already checked out, found little enjoyment in things she once loved, and I had to give her subcutaneous fluids or syringe feed her to keep her body going. Other days she was eating on her own, came out from hiding, and seemed to feel pretty good. The results from her tracheal wash came back and didn't show anything. No cancer cells, no growth in the fungal cultures, nothing at all. I wasn't sure what to do next. By this point I was beginning to accept that she could be dying from some unknown cause, perhaps old age since I didn't know exactly how old she was, but decided to give her a little more time. I felt like I owed her that. Last Friday her condition went downhill very fast, within a matter of hours, and it became obvious that her time had come. I knew the kindest thing I could do for her at that point was put an end her to her suffering. I looked into having a vet come to the house but the wait was 2 to 4 days and I couldn't bear to have her linger on the way she was.

We went to her vet's office that day and the staff were amazing through the whole process. Though I still wish I could have done it at home, they helped me make her passing as comfortable and peaceful as possible. I played calming music, she had her bed, my fuzzy sweatshirt she loved laying on, and her favorite toys. She fell asleep watching birds on YouTube while I petted her, told her how much I loved her, and thanked her for being my best friend all these years. After she was gone, the staff told me to stay as long as I wanted and I ended up staying for 2 hours. I cleaned her up, gave her kisses, and cuddled her while playing music from shows and movies we watched together. I held it together fairly well but when "Forbidden Friendship" from How to Train your Dragon started playing, I couldn't contain myself any longer and started bawling like a baby.

I hate that Pumpkin's last few weeks were so stressful due to my misguided hope that she could better. It's been a week and I'm still so overwhelmed with guilt over the choices I made. Looking back on everything and knowing where we would ultimately end up, I would have done things differently. I wouldn't have bothered with all the medications and tests and putting her through all that unnecessary stress. I would have called a mobile vet sooner so she could be euthanized at home where she felt the safest and happiest. I wouldn't have worked the night before so we could spend every moment of her final hours together. I always knew that when Pumpkin died, I would be devastated. I had pets as a child, pets that I loved like family, but even I'm surprised at just how intense the grief from her loss has been.

She really was my best friend, I can't put into words how much she meant to me. There have been times when Pumpkin was literally the only thing in the world that kept me going. When I had a miscarriage 8 years ago, making sure the skittish, emaciated cat that lived in my alley had food and water gave me a purpose. When I experienced SA, sitting outside and reading a book to her to get her used to the sound of my voice gave me a distraction. Earning her trust taught me to be patient and how strong a bond can be when built over time. She enriched my life so much and I tried my best to do the same for her.

I miss that sweet girl so much, I pray she knew how loved she was.

#tw pet loss #tw sa mention #tw pregnancy loss mention #sorry to anyone who sees this #i'm just feeling a lot today after going through her toys and stuff

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selfproducingfanfictionauthor · 3 years

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BTS Scenario: An omega arrives in your pack (Hyungline x alpha/beta fem!reader)

Summary: An omega joining a pack is a blessing - an unmated one is a miracle. So when the village elder came to you not with authority in her eyes but pity and pleading for understanding, you had no choice but to let him go.

Or, an omega joins the pack and you’re an alpha/beta in a relationship with another alpha. The community asks for your sacrifice. Warnings/Notes: Implied Smut, slight ass play, Angst, Drabble (no resolution... yet) I wanted to explore a different dynamic in the ABO Universe, since it’s usually Alpha BTS x Omega Reader but how about the Beta or even the Alpha reader? Hope you enjoy! Word Count: 2k+ (500 per drabble)

KIM SEOKJIN

(after he’s called to participate in the matching, and Jungkook is an unmated male omega who’s always had a crush on you) (though crush is a understatement)

He’s here for a final goodbye, you think as you allow him to push you back against the wall.

He kisses you with desperation, all teeth and tongue, as if he wants to devour you whole. He reeks of her but you push it at the back of your mind, together with your instinct to gain the upper hand.

If this is goodbye, let it be as soft as you two could be.

You close your eyes to blink back the tears and wrap your arms around his neck. You match his passion kiss after kiss until you both are panting, breathing in each other.

Seokjin slows it down and pulls at your shirt, slipping it off your head. His eyes are wan, and he hasn’t met your gaze the whole time. It feels wrong, but then again, everything is.

So you try to bring back some normalcy and let the urgency in your touch show. Your arms slid down his shoulder, pushing him back into your room, your strength easily matching his.

In the dark of the room, you tug at his shirt but Seokjin grasps your hand away from his chest. You thought he’s going to lead you to his cock just as he did many times before, but he pulls you closer until there’s no more space between your chest and his and leads your hand to his hole.

He’s dry as the dessert but her pushes your hand closer, until your fingers tap his puckered hole.

You can feel him force himself not to tense up, breathing deeply and dropping his head to your shoulder. His back is caved over you, like a tall child and he turns to graze his lips against your ear.

“I’ll let you fuck me too, if that’s what you want, jagi.”

Your eyes widen and you try to pull your hand away but he holds it still. Your other hand tries to push his chest away but his other arm wraps around your shoulder blades, unwilling to let go.

He keeps still in the crook of your neck, murmuring words you never imagined you’ll hear from the alpha, “I’ll moan like he did. Beg like he did.” His voice shakes, and you startle at the tears wetting your skin. It doesn’t even occur to you to wonder how he knew about Jungkook, and what had transpired the night before because here he is.

He’s crying. Your alpha is crying.

“Just please don’t leave me.”

MIN YOONGI

(Your love for Yoongi knows no bounds, you can give him this. In which your arranged marriage is thwarted.)

“It’s a good thing we’re not bonded yet, huh?”

You try not to wince at the relief in his voice and instead you laugh, hoping that the dark is enough to conceal the wobble on your lip.

You are both lying on your bed, exhausted by your hours long of… what do you call it again? Ah, he did call it his favorite recreational activity. He figured sexual compatibility is an important factor in arrange marriages earlier on your engagement.

And you, in love with him for more than half your life, said yes.

His fingers are playing with your hair, while his other hand lifts a lit cigarette to his lips. He glances down at you, his cat-like eyes half-lidded.

“You want a smoke?”

Pulling the blanket higher to your chest, relishing in the slight flicker of interest in his eyes, you shake your head. “Actually, can you not smoke on my bed tonight?”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow but says nothing and puts out his cigarette against the ash tray on your bedside table. Usually, you take up on his offer, and he’s not gonna lie and say that the image of your lips around a cigarette doesn’t stir his cock alive.

“Not feeling well?” He asks, the only time you refused his offer was whenever you’re feeling the drop after your activities. But usually, you’ll tell him outright, communication being as open as you both could.

You let a small smile touch your lips at his tone. He cares for you, you know, maybe not as much as you want him to, but it’s enough.

Or it used to be enough.

“Just a mild migraine,” you lie before pressing a kiss against his shoulder.

Yoongi smiles and kisses the crown of your head, “You know what cures migraines?”

Your smile grows wider as you look up to his grin, his hand already sliding down the small of your back under your blankets. “I think I have an idea.”

By the time he’s pulled out 3 more orgasms from you, the moon has started fading from the night sky. The brisk winter air entering your room by the open window, drawing goosebumps on your skin.

Beside you, Yoongi sits up and pulls his shirt over his head.

“You’re not staying the night?”

Yoongi shakes his head, “The trials start the day after tomorrow, I’ve got to get a head start.”

Your press your lips together, your hand sneaking down your belly. You imagine your child, the size of a pea, hoping they do not hear your breaking heart. “I thought you didn’t like being choices taken away from you.”

That was one of the major points of discussion when your parents arranged your marriage. It’s also a source of your many arguments at the start, before slowly becoming some sort of unwanted roommate in your makeshift relationship.

Yoongi pauses, there’s something in your voice that he can’t pinpoint. He turns to you, for once, you are unreadable. “This is different.”

“Oh,” you breathe. How so, you want to ask. How come a choice robbed by our secondary natures so much different than the ones robbed by our parents? How come it’s the lesser evil in your eyes?

How come I was never a palatable choice in the first place?

But you don’t. Instead, Yoongi presses on. “At least now, you know, if it turns out that it’s me, you’re free. You can go to university just like you want.”

“Yeah…” you chuckle dryly, “Well, good luck then.”

You don’t beg him to stay, you’re an alpha too and an alpha protects their pack. As your hand travels down to your belly again, you remember - you have your own to protect now too.

JUNG HOSEOK

(You’re just his best friend. What can you say?)

“She smells like lilacs! No, wait, honey! Honey and cream.” Hoseok sighs, all lovestruck on your couch over the new omega girl in town.

As part of the search party that found her, he hasn’t stopped talking about her for weeks. Giving you updates on her recovery in the beginning, and then her smile, her eyes, and the way she laughs as time went by.

At first, you didn’t mind. An omega joining the pack is a blessing, given their rarity. They symbolize fertility and bounty, and you are nothing if not loyal to the community. You foster the village children as their teacher, you teach them the ropes of the land - how to feed the cows, how to plant the seeds, and how to prepare for harvest - after all.

But as time went by, as Hoseok’s visits to her home frequent and his visits to yours lessen, it’s become harder and harder to keep the bitter thoughts away. Hoseok may still visit you, but when was the last time you two talked about anything other than her?

“The trials for her mate starts next week,” Hoseok starts, almost as if waiting for you to say something, “I’m thinking of participating.”

From the kitchen, you tighten your hold on the tray balancing your tea and snacks. Without a wobble, you inquire as you step back into your living room, “Oh?”

“Yeah,” he picks up one of your cookies, suddenly looking all bashful, “I’m unmated and I’m not getting younger so, might as well give it a shot you know?”

You frown behind your tea cup, “We’re barely past our mid-20s, Seok-ie, that hardly qualifies as old.”

Hoseok leans back and tilts his head on the back of your couch until it hangs in relaxation. “It’s different between you and I.”

It’s true, betas are not so pressured to reproduce early. After all, there’s nothing special to be had in your genes, you think bitterly.

“Besides,” he continues, “I think I like her. You know, maybe we should invite her next time we hang out! You can get to know her too!”

“I’d rather not.” It spills over your lips before you could control it, and Hoseok stiffens before turning his gaze to you.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re jealous.” Hoseok teases, unaware at how his words hit home.

You stiffen, biting your lip before the dam breaks. “Maybe I am.” you whisper.

He blinks in surprise at the feebleness of your tone, “B-but… you’re a beta.”

You know. You know your place, in this village and in his life but somehow it’s different hearing it from him. Standing, you turn away to step back into your kitchen when a hand grasps your wrist.

“I don’t understand.” Hoseok whispers, trying to look up to your face but thwarted by your hair. He doesn’t need to see your watering eyes to know there are tears in them. He’s reeling from the sudden change of atmosphere, smelling your distress in the air.

Suddenly, you’re overwhelmed by the sense of inferiority and your heart caves into itself. With the last of your strength, you shake off his hold, pointing to the door.

“I think it’s best you leave.”

KIM NAMJOON

(Namjoon has always been a man of duty, and though you are tough and strong, there are limits to what you can and will endure)

You pride yourself to be level-headed, calm, and objective unlike many of the alphas in the pack. You’ve never lost your control, or flown into fury even during your youth but at this very moment, you summon all your discipline to keep your lips from pulling back and snarling at the older alpha in front of you.

How dare she?

How dare they ask this of you?

“It is his duty.” She repeats and beside you, Namjoon is silent. Eyes straight ahead, back as rigid as the trees outside your home. The home that you two built for your children that will come after your wedding.

The wedding that’s supposed to be in a month.

But the longer Namjoon stays silent, the farther that future seems to be. By the time the elder leaves your home, you don’t even see a speck of it in your mind’s eye.

The silence continue as you clean up the cups and uneaten rice cakes. The silent clink of the utensils echoing in your quaint home.

As you wash the dishes, you feel like an outsider watching your body go through the motions. Scrubbing the plate clockwise, once, twice, three times, before running it under the faucet. Next, you pick up the cups, here, clockwise, once, twice —

“It is my duty,” you hear Namjoon, and oh, he’s beside you, hand on your wrist, pulling your hands away from the frigid waters, “you know that, right?”

As one of the strongest and wisest alphas this pack has ever seen in generations, your betrothal to Namjoon was tolerated at best. Alpha bondings are common nowadays, with the scarcity of omegas. So yes, your betrothal was tolerated - just tolerated, even with you being as strong and as wise as your betrothed - but now?

With that young omega in the picture?

They are making you feel as if you’ve committed a grave sin against the community, as if it’s not within your rights to rage against the unfairness of it all.

They’re asking you for your love.

And he’s so willing to be taken away. Your heart breaks but you nod quietly, “I know. I understand.”

Namjoon stupidly thought that was the end of it. That you knew he’ll always come back to you, omega or not.

Maybe he was naive, or he truly was selfish to ask it of you but when he gets home the week after the trials to a dark cold house the surprise knocks him to his knees and drops his heart to his stomach.

You left the kitchen untouched, his mug still next to yours but, Namjoon pauses at the threshold of your room. There, glinting under the moonlight, sits your ring and the last of your scent wafts away.

END NOTES: Hearts are appreciated but comments are gold. Let me know if this should have a second (or even third) part! :)

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majesticarlette · 3 years

Text

Gang of Secrets

Miraculous Ladybug + Reader | ONE SHOT

"Marinette, are you okay?" You touched Marinette's shoulder and looked at her. She turned to you and gave you a forced smile. "Yeah! I am! Just currently so busy with what I'm working on. Yeah! I'm alright!" She rambles as she finds a way to say her excuses. "Are you sure--" "Yes! I am!" She yelled interrupting you, you were surprised at the sudden outburst which Marinette noticed and drop her apologies.

As you were going to say your response, screams and loud disturbance were heard. "It's an akuma attack! We have to hide!" You yelled taking her hand but she quickly retracts it. "(Y/n), wait, I-I think we should split up, so that the villain won't catch us both." Marinette voiced and sprints her way out of the school building.

'Oh right, superhero duties, how could I forget.'

You hid inside the bathroom and waited for Ladybug and Cat Noir to defeat the villain on your phone screen. You sighed in relief when they finally defeated the villain, you got out of your hiding spot and started looking for Marinette before she gets away.

As Chat Noir's about to trick Ladybug to go with him to watch a movie, your voiced were heard searching for Marinette. The troubled and distracted Ladybug came to her senses, she told Chat Noir her excuses and flee the scene. She transforms back and looked for you as well, pretending she has been looking for you everywhere. Little did she know about your awareness of her secret identity.

"Marinette! There you are I've been looking for you. Are you alright?" You asked concerned about her, your question seemed like you're referring to the akuma attack earlier but the truth is that you're worried about her the entire time. Ever since Queen Wasp was defeated, you witnessed the scene where Ladybug became the new Guardian of the Miraculous. You knew how stressful it was to Marinette to have a double life being Ladybug, despite knowing all of this: you never confessed being aware of who she is. "Yes, I am fine! I'm glad Ladybug and Chat Noir defeated the villain." She puts on a smile and was quickly replaced with a frown as she remembered something. "I have to go! I forgot I have something to do--" As she was going to chant her excuses, you interrupted her. "Marinette, calm down." "I'm sorry! I really need to do something!" She's really stressed and troubled from what was all happening. Being a hero is never easy, now that she's looking after the Miraculouses; many danger lurks from Shadow Moth that made her so paranoid. This made you leave no choice, you have to tell her what you know to let her know that someone understands her.

"Look, I'm going to confess something and it's very important." You looked at her seriously as she was stunned by your statement, she was hesitant at first but she gave in. "Can we go to your house, it's really confidential." You added and she agreed.

You're both at her patio leaning on the railings. "Look, I know why you broke up with Luka." You spoke, Marinette was surprised with what you said as she was about to speak, you interrupted her. "I am serious Marinette, I know who you are." You added, and before you let her freak-out you continued what you were saying. "Don't freak out, it's not your fault. No, I didn't see you detransform nor transform into your other business. If you noticed, I'm always wearing this charm." You held your charm attached to a necklace. "May it be as a necklace, earring or anything. This charm somewhat nullifies miraculous magic." Marinette was speechless with what you said. "H-how? That's impossible." "It isn't, this charm was made centuries ago and was passed down to my family to protect us from dangers when a miraculous is in the wrong hands. It's the only charm, I think." You answered.

"If that charm may nullify miraculous magic, then all this time..." "Yes, I was able to see through what's beneath the mask little by little. It took sometime, but there were hints. I could only see you from afar as LB so I couldn't really distinguish who you are, but when I saw you a couple inches away the charm worked it's way and slowly nullified the magic of the miraculous which hides your identity. A simple mask and a suit won't protect your identity, silly. It's the magic of the miraculous." Marinette was shocked. "Then, you could also see Shadow Moth's real identity." She looked at you with hope. "That's the problem, it's hazy. I can't fully see who he is, I haven't met him yet. The charm can't give us what we want right away, it took more than a month to know who you are you know, and maybe it's because I also knew you personally which made it pretty easier to decipher." You answered.

Marinette was about to utter her reply when she heard voices inside her room. She went down and saw Rose about to see inside her dollhouse. She quickly went down and blocked Rose from seeing it. "Don't touch that, move away!" She pushed Rose, which made the cheery girl drop the roof of the dollhouse and broke it. Everyone gasps which made you peek from the patio, 'It's our girl friends'. You refuse to reveal yourself, it might make the girls sulk. "I'm sorry, Marinette." Rose kneels to pick up the broken roof. "Will you please leave my room?" Marinette declares as she showed annoyance to the group. "Chill out, Marinette. It's just a dollhouse, we'll totally help." Alya responded. "No you won't! Please go!"

As the group tries to help Marinette to voice out her problems, the dark haired girl lashes out on them and told them that she doesn't want to be friends with them and told them out. The saddened group left and you finally went down in her room to accompany Marinette. The kwamis were surprised by your appearance and tries to hide but Marinette assured them you're aware. "I had no choice, I had to do it." Her eyes are swollen, she really tried her best to keep her loved ones safe. "We know, Marinette. Someday, they'll understand why you had to do it, but lashing out on them wasn't the best thing to do." "At least now I won't have to lie anymore--" She voiced out between her cries and you cut her off. "No, Marinette. You mustn't think about that." You hugged her and let her cry.

When talking to Marinette about her issues, the both of you were interrupted by your phone, it was your mother telling you to go home. You bid each other goodbye which leaves Marinette into working on the Miracle Box's safe.

At home, you were browsing through channels when the news came up and reports a strange phenomenon about the Eiffel tower. "What happened?" You looked outside from your window and saw what was happening: it was the girls, they were akumatized by Shadow Moth. "Oh no, they must be after Mari." You closed the curtains and called Marinette but she wasn't picking up, you left a text and continued watching the news to have updates on what was happening.

After some time when the villains were defeated, you received a text from Marinette. She was asking you to visit her in their house. You prepared your things and went on your way. You climbed up, knocked, and opened the door to Marinette's room. You saw Alya and the kwamis which made you smile. "You finally told her, huh? I'm happy for you." "Thank you, (Y/n)." She hugged you. "Wait, (Y/n) knew?" Alya crosses her arms. You explained to Alya how it happened and what happened earlier at the patio which she understood and cleared things up.

"So, that's why you haven't gotten akumatized yet." Alya realizes. "That's cool! Then, you also know Chat Noir." She added. "I-I dont! Yet.." You quickly answered. "Mm-hm. Then it's pretty risky for you, huh? Keeping LB's secret identity to the public." Alya said. "It is, there were times where I had to take off my charm and I'm afraid someone will get akumatized and get me, like Truth or Queen Wasp." Alya hugged you and told you that you are a true friend, the both of you noticed Marinette in deep thought. "Hmm... The charm protects you from being akumatized." "What is it, girl?" Alya asked.

"I think I know what we should do next."

#miraculous ladybug #marinette x reader #mlb #marinette dupain cheng #alya cesaire #miraculous ladybug imagine #miraculous au #reader insert #Marinette dupain-cheng x reader #adrien agreste x reader

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forever-rogue · 3 years

Note

OH I HAVE AN IDEA like an angsty fic where bucky and reader have a miscommunication and it causes a fight between them and they are both like ???? “we’ve never yelled at each other ??? what is this” AND IDK I JUST WANT ANGST

So, head empty, very little thoughts, but I hope this works and you like it 🥺

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You sang along to the music that was playing softly in the background as you showered and got ready for your day. You’d had a late start, easily giving into Bucky and staying in bed for just five more minutes, which had really turned out to be almost another hour. The good thing about being the boss was that you could afford to be late every once in a while. Bucky was in the kitchen, whipping up a quick breakfast before he too needed to leave and go about his day.

“Sugar,” he called out to you as you washed your hair. You could faintly make out his voice as you carried on, but figured you’d be able to make out what he was saying well enough, “I’ve got everything made and prepared just how you like it!”

You thought nothing of it for a moment and continued to wash your hair; but about halfway through the motions, you stopped in surprise. What had he actually said?

“Bucky? Bub, what did you say?” you quickly rinsed out our hair before pulling back the shower curtain as you tried to listen in. Had he really said he was mad?

“It’s all done! I’m done,” he called back as he covered your plate for you to find once you got out of the shower. He grabbed his travel mug of coffee and headed towards the door, giving Alpine a quick pet before leaving, “bye honey. Running late and gotta go - I’m leaving!”

“Bucky!” you almost slipped and fell as you tore back the shower curtain and almost jumped out of the shower. It was still running as you haphazardly grabbed a towel and darted down the hall and into the kitchen. But he was already gone; the only thing that was left behind was the faint smell of his cologne. Swallowing the nervous lump in your throat, you trudged back down the hall to finish your shower. You were already running late and whatever this was - whatever had just happened - would need to wait until later.

Had Bucky really just broken up with you in the midst of a shower? It sure seemed like it right now.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you sat down and stared at your computer screen. You’d had the same spreadsheets and charts pulled up for the last two hours and made almost no progress. You swore that almost every single interaction you’d had with Bucky over the last week was playing on loop in your mind. You were desperately trying to figure out where you’d gone wrong, what had caused him to snap.

In an effort to alleviate your own fears, you’d texted Bucky to get a response from him and see what was going on. But you hadn’t heard back from him. You’d sent three messages before deciding not to bombard him. But still...if he was just up and leaving you after almost three years together, he owed you at least a small explanation.

You opened google and quickly pulled up an apartment search, already resigned yourself to the idea that you’d need to find a new place fast. Being around for too long would be too hard and you didn’t want to subject to more torture than necessary. And Alpine! You’d need to decide what to do with your beloved cat - Alpine loved you equally, how were you to choose who would get the fluffy little thing? And all the friends in common you shared...who would they side with?

“Fuck,” you groaned at nothing in particular and decided to focus on your work. At least that would keep you distracted and your brain focused on something other than Bucky. You would figure out everything else tonight. It would all be fine. This was no big deal; maybe your world was falling apart...but you would handle it. You always did.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When you finally allowed yourself to go home that evening, you were shocked to find the lights on and Bucky in the kitchen. He was on the phone with someone, his new girlfriend or someone like that you immediately presumed, moving about the kitchen as he finished dinner. You choked up as you watched the domestic scene that was so normal to you by now. But this time, it felt so wrong.

You stormed in and for whatever reason, you decided that grabbing a pillow and throwing it at Bucky was a good idea. You picked the soft thing up in your arms and hurled at him, who suddenly realized you were home and yelped in surprise as he dodged the offending object. He raised his eyebrows in surprise as he pointed to the earbuds in ears as he turned back to the stove.

You were seeing red by now as you stormed in the kitchen and ripped his earbuds out. He was so stunned by your sudden actions, he jumped back and offered up a shocked look.

“What the fuck are you doing here!?” you shouted at him as you threw the buds on the floor, half tempted to stomp them, “how fucking dare you!”

“Sugar, what on earth are you talking about?” he grabbed his phone off the counter and ended the call without hesitation. Your chest heaved as you waited for some sort of explanation, “what’s going on? Are you alright?”

“No, I’m not alright! How on earth could I be alright?” you threw your hands up in exasperation as you tried to unsuccessfully hold back your tears. He was so calm and nonchalant about everything it was almost more frustrating than anything else.

“Okay...something is going on. Care to enlighten me?” he tried to reach up and wipe your tears away but you flinched out of his touch, “sugar?”

“Y-you! It’s you!” you cried softly as he motioned for you to explain just what it was about him that was the problem.

“What about me…?”

“You just break up with me this morning and tell me you’re leaving me and then you just come back like nothing has happened?” as soon as the words left your mouth, Bucky’s mouth dropped open. It was news to him that he’d broken up with you, “and you didn’t answer my texts all day! I deserve some sort of explanation!”

“I didn’t...I didn’t break up with you, Sugar,” he stated simply as you tilted to your head in confusion, trying to decide if he was pulling your leg or being honest, “why would I leave you? That makes no sense. I love you - I’m in love with you!”

“This morning,” you whispered softly, “you said you were done and you were leaving. When I was in the shower.”

His brows furrowed as he tried to figure out what exactly you were talking about. But then it hit him and he struggled not to burst out laughing. He gnawed on his lip as he fervently shook his head, “my sweet girl, you...well you heard me correctly, but incorrectly at the same time.”

“What? I-I swear…”

“What I said was breakfast was done and that I was leaving for work because I was running late too,” he explained as you tried to replay all that you had heard. Maybe...maybe you hadn’t heard him correctly at all - and in turn jumped to the worst possible conclusion, “I had to run...I’m sorry I didn’t come into the bathroom and say goodbye. Maybe that would have solved this whole thing.”

“You’re not..leaving me?” you asked as he just shook his head and took the opportunity to wrap his arms around you, “you still love me?”

“I find it both hilarious and concerning that you so easily thought I would just leave,” he kissed the top of your head as you held onto him as tightly as possible, “of course I’m not leaving. You never have to worry about that, sugar. I love you so much, silly girl. You sweet, silly girl.”

“I’m an absolute idiot,” you mumbled as you buried your face in his shoulder. You couldn’t believe that you jumped from A to Z so quickly and without a moment of hesitation, “I’m sorry, Bub. I feel like I wouldn’t blame you if you did want to leave me now.”

“Never,” he promised softly, “even if you do have moments of being ridiculous. Just like I do.”

“If I ever do something so dumb again,” you huffed as you pulled back and looked at those ocean eyes, “just smack some sense into me. But I...you didn’t answer my texts.”

“Texts?” he seemed genuinely confused as he reached for his phone and correctly scrolled through his messages. You could see that there were none from you, “what are you…I was in bad reception today. Blame Sam, that I was just on the phone with, for that one. They probably never came through. I’m sorry, honey. If they’d come in, maybe we could have avoided this whole situation, huh?"

“Some bad luck on top of it,” you hid your face behind your hands and sighed heavily, “James. I..I’m so sorry for everything. I just downright acted like a fool today. I don’t even know where to begin to apologize. I love you, Bub. I hope you can forgive me, but if not...I would-”

“Hey,” he put his hand under chin and turned your face up to meet his own. His smile was lilting and gentle and his eyes soft, “I love you. It’s alright done and forgotten. Are you hungry? Dinner’s just about finished.”

“I love you more than anything,” you whispered as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, “I just...my emotions were so all over the place today. Like out of control, A to Z. I don’t know what happened.”

“Shit happens,” he dismissed it with a slight scoff as he reached for some dishes, “I’m yours, sugar. Always.”

“Me too,” you agreed as you leaned against the counter, watching him with nothing but adoration. It was then that another realization - and possibly an explanation - hit you. It felt like a punch in the gut, “shit.”

“What?” Bucky asked as he started to plate dinner, “everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you smiled nervously, “just remembered something I forgot to do today.”

“As long as you’re alright…”

“I am,” you promised. You could worry about this later, “hey - I love you so much, Bucky. You know that right?”

“I love you too. Always.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Marvel Taglist (add yourself to a taglist here!)(strike-through means I couldn’t tag you - please check your settings!)

@qhbr2013 @greeneyedblondie44 @april-showers-and-flowers @softboiipascal @im-an-adult-ish @patzammit @niki-xie @xxlovingfandomsxx @startrekkingaroundasgard @welcometothepedroverse @actual-spawn-of-satan @punkerthanpascal @lazybeeches @someday-when-you-leave-me @justgivemethekeys @salome-c @rosiefridayrogersunday @neptunesglow @artsymaddie @haildoodles @amneris21 @star017 @irepostthingsiwanttoseelater @its–fandom–darling @ayamenimthiriel @alyispunk @djarinbarnes @edencherries @ashamed23 @sunsetskywalkerr @nikkixostan @spookispunk @cable-kenobi @ironicfoxes @cc13723things @gooddaykate @natthebattygeologist @sociallyantisocialbutterfly @n3ssm0nique @daughterofthenight117 @riddikulus-obsessions @imaginelover88 @saint-bvcky @sleep-tight1 @missstef23 @moonlacebeam @asylummara @wakandabiitch2 @hoodedbirdie @mysweetlittledesire @reallyloudstarlight @vintagepigeon @froggyy06 @fleurydelacoury @veil-of-time @queenbeean @deedepee @kenzieam @luxeavenger @dobbyjen @bbl32 @frickin-bats @caprisunsister @spacedadmando @bucks-bunny @starlightcrystalline @jensenswinchester @simonedk @keithseabrook27 @cloverrover @jedi-mando @fyeahatised @allforkook @bibliophilewednesday @doozywoozy

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan

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ladydimitrescuspet · 3 years

Text

Your Friend, My Friend, Our Friend

ao3 link! listen, I started this at 6am, but I fell asleep before finishing it. I'm not proud of it, it's kind of messy, but please enjoy and tell me what you think. as always sorry for any grammatical errors!

Request: Can you do a platonic reader x the Dimitrescu daughters? Where reader is busy talking to the other maids and the three of them are jealous they might steal away their friend? - I hope I delivered on this request, and apologies if I didn't, I did my best!

***

“This has to be the best thing I’ve tasted, Ellie.” You replied as you ate a piece of pie. The way the flavours of it melted in your mouth made your eyes close as you let out a small moan.

Ellie was blushing at your compliment. “Oh, really? Do you think the Lady and her daughters will like the one I’ve prepared for them?” She asked.

You nodded your head. “Definitely. And if they don’t then more pie for me.” You pushed the plate into the direction of another maid. “You have to taste it, Rebecca. I don’t think my opinion alone will convince her of what I said.” You playfully nudged Ellie.

The three of you continued to converse until one of Lady Dimitrescu’s daughters walked in. “Y/N? What are you doing in here with… them?” Daniela asked as she eyed the maids. “I thought you’d be in the library or Mother’s study.”

“I just came down here to see what Ellie and Rebecca were preparing for dinner.” You replied. “I’m a mere distraction to them, but I like being in the kitchen, Dani.” Your stomach growled at that comment causing the two maids to laugh.

Rebecca patted your belly. “We should get some food in there since you like being in the kitchen so much.” She rolled her eyes at bit with her comment.

Daniela huffed. “You said we’d work out in the garden today.” A small scowl had appeared on her face.

You smiled at her. “And we will, but not right now. I’ll come and find you later, okay? Promise.” You ran your hand down her, but Daniela just brushed you off before storming out causing you to frown.

“Is she okay?” Ellie asked. You sighed and shrugged your shoulders. “If it’s any consolation, we love it when you come down to the kitchen. It’s nice to be around someone who knows the Lady and her daughters, someone who’s not constantly paranoid about being taken to the cellar and being turned into wine.”

You nodded your head. “I understand. I do appreciate that.” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “I’m just, I’m worried about Daniela. I should go talk to her.” You said.

“You definitely should but eat first. I made you a sandwich and I won’t let my hard work go to waste, Y/N.” Rebecca said, setting the sandwich down in front of you.

You smiled at her. You let Ellie and Rebecca continue their dinner preparation as you ate. “I will see the both of you later tonight for game night, yeah?” The two nodded at you before you all shared your goodbyes and you set off.

“Bela, you should’ve seen how close they were getting with them. Talking and laughing. One of them even patted their stomach when it did that weird growling thing.” You overheard Daniela say to her sister.

“Y/N has been hanging around with the maids a lot as of late.” Cassandra said. “You don’t think we did something wrong, do you?”

Bela was quick to shake her head. “No, no, they’re just making new friends.” Bela said, try to give them some reassurance.

“Yeah, to replace us.” Daniela said. “They never hang out with us anymore. Any time we see them they’re either with those two maids in the kitchen or with Mother.”

Your heart broke a bit hearing their conversation. Bela was right, you were just trying to make friends, but you weren’t trying to replace them as Daniela had suggested. You would’ve interrupted their conversation, but you could hear Alcina’s heels coming from down the hall. You moved away from the room where her daughters were and went to go catch up to her.

“Ali, wait up!” You called out to her making her stop and turn around to you. “Hi.” You let out as you panted slightly.

Alcina smiled at you. “Hello, little one. What are you doing wandering the halls at this time? I thought you’d be enjoying a nice nap, yes?” Alcina asked.

You flushed. “How do you know about my afternoon naps?” You asked as the two of you walked. Your question made Alcina chuckle. “Ali, how do you know?” You whined at her a bit.

“Cassandra informed me, if you must truly know.” Alcina replied. “It was in passing. Something about a maid reading to you while you dosed off, mentioned that it happens almost every day.”

“Oh.” You scratched the back of your head. “She didn’t mention how she found us, did she?” You asked.

Alcina hummed. “It’s quite alright if you cuddle with your friends, dear.” Alcina said. You let out a small breath at her approval. “Don’t worry, draga mea, I don’t get jealous easy. Besides, I’m glad that you’re making friends with the staff.”

“I… thank you, Ali.” You said when she patted your head affectionately. “Speaking of jealous, I don’t think your daughters are too keen on me being friends with Ellie and Rebecca.”

Alcina raised her eyebrow as she pushed open the door to her study. “Oh? Do share why, darling.” She said as she sat down in her chair.

You waited for her to pick you up and set you down on the desk. “I overheard them talking before I found you.” You explained a bit. “They think I’m trying to replace them or at least Daniela does.”

“She does?” Your Lady asked. You nodded your head. “Well, then I suppose you’ll have to find a way to fix that.” She shuffled some papers around on her desk before putting her pen to use.

You pouted, mostly at not having her undivided attention. “But how do I do that?” You asked, a small whine escaping past your lips.

“Invite them to your little game night.” You let out a small gasp at her words. “Darling, you should know by now that nothing goes unheard of by me in this castle.” You could tell she found your reaction amusing and you pouted more.

You mulled her idea over while she worked, watching as her pen moved across her paper. “Would they like game night?” You asked. “They won’t tr-“

“I’ll talk to them, they’ll be on their best behaviours around your friends. And if they aren’t, do let me know, darling.” Alcina flashed you a small smile before going back to their work. You watched her work in silence again before you tapped her shoulder. “Yes, little one?”

You flushed at the nickname, ducking your head from her gaze. “Um, would you… like to join?” You asked.

Alcina placed her hand near your thigh as she leaned forward. “The offer is appreciated, Y/N, but I am very, very busy right now. I’ve really no time for such trivial distraction, but you enjoy yourself and tell me all about it when you return to me.” Alcina replied before she backed away and continued to write.

Your breathing had quickened a bit at how close she’d just been to you. “Next time then?” You tried as a reply.

“Of course, next time.” Alcina replied absentmindedly. “As much as I appreciate your company, I need you to leave. I have a phone call with Mother Miranda to make and I don’t believe it will be a pleasant one, my dear.”

You nodded your head and Alcina helped you off her desk. “I’ll see you later, Ali.” You said before exiting the room, shutting the door behind you.

Your game night with Ellie and Rebecca was a few hours away so you took that time to plan an extra special one for the Lady’s daughters to enjoy. When you’d gone over the details with Ellie and Rebecca, they agreed to make some snacks that the three might like. You went to find Daniela shortly after.

“Hey Dani, ready to go garden?” You asked as you found her in the library.

Daniela looked up from her book before glancing out the window. “It’s too dark out now and it’s probably raining.” She replied before focusing on her book again.

“Oh. Well did your Mother talk to you?” You asked.

“About game night?” You nodded your head. “Yeah. Not interested, but thanks for the offer.”

You let out a small sigh. “It was actually your Mother’s idea, she thought it might help bond more, grow my friendship with the three of you. But I’d really like it if you came, Dani.” You left the library before she had the chance to reply.

You walked around aimlessly, thinking about going back to Alcina’s study, but apparently she was still on the phone. Cassandra and Bela were avoiding you like the plague, dispersing into swarms whenever the three of you got near each other. After a while, it was dinner time. It was a quiet dinner, no doubt due to the tension between you and the Lady’s daughters.

Alcina cleared her throat. “Girls, you will be attending Y/N’s game night. You may not want to go, but it’ll do you some good to learn how to interact with our staff, get to know them better. They can’t all be used for your little cat and mouse games.”

Daniela whined. “But Mot-“

“I won’t hear your excuses, Daniela, darling. Y/N has planned a wonderful night just for the three of you and their friends and it would be rude of you not to go.” Alcina replied, taking a sip of her wine.

Daniela frowned and crossed her arms. “They’re just going to flaunt their new friends in our faces. Making sure we get a good look at who our replacements are. They never spend time with us so why would we go and spend time with them?” Daniela asked.

“Dani, I’m no-“ Cassandra cut you off.

“Don’t push her, Y/N. You may have had good intentions with this offer, but it seems like you’re only doing it to get back in our good graces. But I’m afraid it’s not working.” Cassandra said.

You looked over at Alcina who was busy nursing her wine, trying to keep herself calm. You nodded your head at Cassandra. “I’m sorry. I’d like to be excused if I may.” You said before standing from the table and rushing out of the room.

Alcina snapped her fingers. “You two are insufferable.” She practically growled out. “The fact that you think Y/N would ever want to replace you is ridiculous. Just because they have made more friends does not mean that they’re giving you the boot.” Alcina explained.

Bela spoke up this time. “I tried to tell that, Mother. They wouldn’t listen to me.” Bela said. “But you have to admit, that the timing of such an offer is suspicious.”

“The suggestion was mine, dear Bela.” Alcina snapped. “Now, it would do you all some good to find Y/N and apologise or so help me, Mother Miranda, you will regret not doing so.” Alcina threatened before she got up from the table.

The three rose from the table in a chorus of “Yes, Mother” before setting off to find you. They weren’t surprised to find you in a room with Ellie and Rebecca, but it did cause another frown to grace Daniela’s face.

You sniffled when you looked up at them when Bela cleared her throat. “What do you want?” You asked.

“You really shouldn’t be here right now.” Ellie said.

“Ellie’s right, you’ve put Y/N through enough for today.” Rebecca added.

You shook our head. “No, it’s… it’s fine. Say what you have to say.” You said.

Cassandra spoke first. “Mother told us that we should apologise.”

“Yes, she did. So we’re here to apologies for our behaviour. Right, Daniela?” Bela nudged her sister.

Daniela hissed at her before turning her attention to you. “Mother did send us off to apologise to you.” Daniela said. “So I’m sorry for saying that you were trying to replace us. I hope you can forgive me, Y/N.”

You stood up, walked over to Daniela and hugged her, to her surprise. “Of course I forgive you.” You whispered into her ear. Your reply made Daniela wrap her arms around you and return the hug. “I should apologise too.” You said as the hug ended. “I made you all feel like I was choosing Ellie and Rebecca over you three and I’m sorry. I never intended for you to feel like I was trying to replace any of you.”

Bela smiled at you. “You’re forgiven, Y/N. In all honesty, I’m glad you’re making more friends.”

Cassandra nodded in agreement. “Now that that’s settled, Mother mentioned game night and I’m told there are snacks.”

You laughed at her. “Yes, we have snacks and games. Please join us before I send Ellie and Rebecca off to bed.” You replied.

“Hey! On game nights, there’s no curfew.” Ellie said, pushing your shoulder slightly when you sat next to her.

The six of you played a multitude of games. And you found out that Daniela doesn’t like it when someone beats her in something, especially her sisters and she claims that they cheat to beat her. You all finally called it a night when Rebecca let out a small yawn.

“As much as this been, I think it’s time for us to call it a night.” Rebecca said. “Thank you for joining us tonight, it was fun playing with the three of you.” She tossed a smile toward the Lady’s daughters.

The three girls escorted you to their Mother’s room after you all said goodbye to Ellie and Rebecca.

“Thank you for having us tonight, Y/N.” Daniela said. “Your friends seem really nice and as Rebecca said, it was fun playing with you all tonight.”

“Group hug?” The four of you hugged each other, giggling when Daniela caused you all to fall on the floor.

“And what, pray tell, is going on here?” Alcina asked, a small smile on her face.

“Group hug.” The four of you said in unison. You and Alcina bid the girls good night before she guided you into the room.

“So how was game night, dear?” Alcina asked as the two of you settled into bed.

You snuggled into her side before letting out a sigh. “It was very fun, thank you for suggesting it, Ali.”

Alcina hummed “You’re welcome, draga mea. Now rest, you’ve had such a long day.” Alcina said before pressing a kiss to your forehead and drifting off to sleep next to you.

#resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #lady dimitrescu's daughters #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader

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egcdeath · 4 years

Text

first impressions

pairing: soft!ransom drysdale x reader

summary: [request] “hmm prompts... Ransom introducing you (a total opposite of him) to his family for the first time, or a Thrombey wedding! if you feel like it” i like where your brain is at anon! but why not a little bit of both? ;)

word count: 3.7k

warnings: pretty fluffy, some angst, toxic family dynamics

author’s note: this has been super lightly edited so pls forgive any mistakes <3 click here if you’d like to be added to my taglist & all reblogs are super appreciated!

You felt slightly out of place driving through the neighborhood of your youth in the passenger seat of Ransom’s beloved Beamer. Thinking of how your parents would react to your boyfriend, let alone his lifestyle of excess, made your heart rate increase, and you shuffled a bit in your seat unconsciously as a result of your nerves. As if he were reading your thoughts, Ransom set a steady hand on your knee and gave it a tiny reassuring squeeze before parking in front of the curb ahead of your home.

Nervously exiting the vehicle, you watched wordlessly as Ransom grabbed your overnight bags from the trunk, and hauled them over his shoulders. Still saying nothing, you reached out and grabbed Ransom’s hand, constricting his circulation as you strolled up to your door, and rang your own doorbell.

When your mother whipped open the door and offered you an excited grin, you finally were able to let out the breath that you weren’t even aware you were holding.

“Goose!” your mother cheered, squeezing the life out of you while you snuck a glance at Ransom who seemed rather amused by the childhood pet name. “And who’s this?” she asked, pulling away from you and looking him up and down.

“I’m Ransom, your daughter’s boyfriend,” he announced with confidence, offering your mom friendly smile, before glancing back over at you and raising his brows the slightest bit.

“Finally putting a face to the name, then. I’ve heard all about you from this one. Come on in,” she gestured for the two of you to enter. “Y/N can show you to her room, and dinner will be ready in about a half hour,” with that, your mother was off, and you were once again alone with Ransom.

You showed him up to your room, where he set down the bags and flopped down onto your bright pink duvet.

“Goose, huh?” he questioned, rolling on the hyperfeminine twin mattress.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, before sitting down next to the headboard of the bed.

“Do you think she liked me?” Ransom asked, seemingly out of nowhere. “Did you tell her good things about me?”

“Since when do you care about what other people think of you?” you giggled a bit, and planted your fingers in Ransom’s hair.

“I care because…” he thought for a moment, calculating just how honest he wanted to be. “I care because this is the longest relationship I’ve been in, and I want my future parents-in-law to like me.”

“We’ve been together for like, a year, Ran. But I applaud your commitment to me,” you massaged his scalp as you spoke, and ignored the butterflies floating throughout your torso at his mention of marriage.

“Well? Do you think she likes me?” he asked once again.

“Mmm, I like when you care about things,” you pressed a little peck to his forehead, and hovered a bit over his face. “She said like, 20 words to you, max. But after dinner I’m sure they’ll like you. At least I hope they will.”

Ransom playfully swatted at you. “How comforting. Wait, stay right there,” he reached up and held the hand that was massaging his scalp in place.

——

By the time dinner came around, you seemed to have switched emotions with your partner, as you were feeling much more relaxed, and Ransom on the other hand, was not.

He kept a hand on your knee under the table in what seemed like a grounding technique, squeezing every now and then while your father plated your meals.

“So, how did you two meet?” your father questioned, sitting down beside your mom.

“We met while we were volunteering at the Humane Society together,” you gushed, glancing over at your partner who was nervously sipping his water, then back at your parents. “He always seemed so pissed in the beginning. I mean, the amount of times I saw him growling obscenities while tugging on harnesses, or playing the most unenthusiastic games of fetch I’d ever seen in my life is astounding,” you laughed softly, and looked over at Ransom once again as if you were cueing him to speak.

“Yeah, I really didn’t like it there at first. Not really a dog guy, but my grandad said it was community service or no allowance, and I was not interested in the latter,” he chuckled awkwardly and received confused expressions from your parents, which granted you an SOS squeeze on the knee.

“Um, anyway, one day we were closing, and I went into the last cat suite, and there grumpy old Ransom was, cuddling with Garfield, you know, the old cat with the three legs, and it was literally the cutest thing I’d ever seen. Especially ‘cause Garfield is so hard to please,'' you paused to take a bite of the food in front of you. “We started talking more after that, then he asked me out, and of course I said yes. I guess the rest is history.”

“Aw, Goose, that’s so cute!” your mom cooed, but the moment didn’t last too long.

“What do you do for work, Ransom?” Your dad asked, tilting his beer at the man.

“I’m currently in between jobs. But, uh, I’ve been doing a lot of volunteer work.”

Your father nodded wordlessly and paused for a second. “Volunteering get you a Beamer?”

“Dad!” You interrupted in a yelp, “please.” You frowned as you looked between the men.

“Y/N, it’s fine. It’s a good question, but I got it as a gift a few years back. And, you know, my family’s comfortable.”

Before your father could respond, your mom popped in to save the conversation. “No money talk at the table, please. Tell me more about your relationship,” she gave both of you a sympathetic look.

——

After that, dinner went on without much of a hitch, and you agreed upon doing the dishes with your mother while your father and boyfriend prepared a little fire outside.

“He seems sweet,” she commented after a long period of silence.

“I’m glad you think so. He was really worried about you not liking him, and honestly, I was too,” you rinsed the last glass before setting it in your dishwasher.

“I just want you to be careful, okay? When you have that much money, people do strange things, or say things they don’t mean and expect you to just take it. He seems like a good boy, but just don’t let your guard completely down. The last breakup you went through-“

“Stop, I get it,” you sighed softly.

“This doesn’t mean I don’t like him. I just don’t want to see you that hurt again,” she gave your arm a soft squeeze. “Let’s go stop your dad from catching a murder charge,” she beckoned you to follow her out to the backyard, where your boyfriend and dad were… laughing together? If you weren’t so relieved, it’d almost be off-putting.

The rest of the night went alarmingly well, Ransom finding a way to bond with both of your parents after an awkward first half of the evening. As the two of you crawled into your tiny bed and spooned while drifting off to sleep, Ransom slurred a tired ‘I think they liked me,’ into your ear.

From that point on, Ransom’s position within your family only became better. For the first time, he was welcomed into a familial environment that wasn’t more toxic than a Chernobyl cooling tower, and Ransom was loving it. After suggesting to spend that year’s Thanksgiving at your parents’ home, spending the holidays with the L/N family became a frequent occurrence for the two of you.

Though you occasionally wondered why you were four years into a relationship with the man, and still hadn’t met his family, which to your understanding, was rather large, you had better things to concern yourself with. You understood and respected that Ransom’s relationship with his own family wasn't the best, from the little that he shared with you, but occasionally curiosity often got the best of you.

Yet, things seemed to shift after your engagement. In the midst of dress fittings and cake tastings, Ransom had decided that it was finally time for you to meet the rest of the Thrombey clan, and that there was no better time than Harlan’s book release party, which was being celebrated out in California, at the Thrombey Vineyard.

In your years of relationship, you’d become no stranger to luxury, and the finer things in life, but arriving at the Vineyard put you in awe at just how affluent these people were. Perhaps that’s what happens when you’re one of the great writers of your time, and your offspring go off to become equally “self-made” successes.

You were a bit tired from the three hour difference between Boston and Sonoma Valley, and as soon as you hopped out of the car at the vineyard, you could only think of getting to your room, out of your baggy travel clothes, and to sleep as soon as possible.

Trailing behind Ransom, you looked around at the vast expanse of crop-filled land around you in astonishment while you walked up the cement path to the mansion, not really noticing the petite woman with curled blonde hair, and an oversized straw hat approaching you.

“Oh gosh, you must be Y/N!” she said gleefully. “I’m Joni. I’ve seen you all over Ranny’s Insta,” she paused and looked you up and down. “Well, you do look a little different there,” she chuckled.

“That’s great, Joni. Maybe you can Tweet about how exhilarating and life changing this experience has been for you to all your little pyramid scheme friends.”

“You’re always so rude, Hugh,” she sneered.

“I forgot about your chronic victimhood. Goodbye, Joan,” he rolled his eyes, and practically tugged you inside the massive building in front of you, before dragging you up the stairs. You were honestly in a little bit of shock at seeing how nasty Ransom got from just a small interaction.

You set your Louis Vuitton Keepal, and aluminum suitcase down on the granite floor of the bedroom, before flopping down, and spreading your limbs out on the massive memory foam bed that sat in the center of the room, “What was that, Ran?” you questioned as he sprawled out next to you.

“The reason why I didn’t want you to meet them. They’re like sharks, looking for anything that even resembles blood in the water,” he threw an arm around you and yawned. “We can talk about this in the morning, though. Right now, I think that both of us need a shower.”

“Speak for yourself, you stink bug.”

“But what if I get lonely in there?”

“Fine,” you huffed, moving his arm off of you, and heading off to the en-suite.

That night, as you stared at the blank wall in a vain attempt to quiet your mind enough to fall asleep, you questioned if coming to meet Ransom’s family was more of a mistake than you initially anticipated.

The next morning felt a bit frantic. You and Ransom woke up a few hours before everyone else, as they’d been in California for a few days now and had adjusted to the time difference, while you two had not. An in-house chef made you two a gourmet buffet of a meal while housekeepers laid out your clothes back in your room, and you were feeling a bit overwhelmed by all of the sudden interferences in your life. Though it was nice to not have to do all of the work, you weren’t sure how you felt about other people doing it for you.

The majority of your day felt similar to that morning. You quickly realized that Ransom’s fortune was just a small portion of the Thrombey estate, and that his family were essentially a bunch of monsters with money. Throughout the day of horse riding, wine tasting, and wine painting workshops, you couldn’t help but notice how they turned their noses up at you, treating you, and the staff working at the vineyard, like some sort of outsider.

Your alienation only became more apparent during Harlan’s celebratory dinner, when insults and sneers were tossed at both you and Ransom for being together.

“Are you trying to get revenge on us, or something?” Richard asked at one point, gesturing to you, and catching you completely off guard,

“Why would you say something like that?” Ransom asked, trying not to let his offence show as his jaw clenched.

“It’s just not like you to want to settle down, especially with someone like… her,” he spoke about you like you weren’t sitting right there.

“No, I agree,” Walt added. “For once in our lives I agree with you,” he laughed aloud, and a few other folks at the table laughed with him. “Can you believe that after all these years, we’re bonding over Ransom’s little girlfriend?”

You weren’t even sure how to react, so you laughed awkwardly along with them, and stared blankly at the vast expanse of grape trees behind the row of Thrombey and their friends. What you would give to sprint out into that, and never come back.

Ransom looked to you in your obvious discomfort, and grabbed your knee, offering it a little reassuring squeeze before he interrupted them.

“You know what? All of you dickheads can eat shit. Y/N is really the only person who matters to me at this point, and you pricks need to respect that. Hell, you need to respect her.”

“Look at little Ranny, getting all soft,” Walt chided.

He ignored the comment and continued on, “And If I don’t start hearing apologies soon, every single one of your wedding invites have a one way ticket to the shredder.”

A silence fell over the table. You were a bit surprised too, since your invites had already gone out, and Harlan was the only Thrombey to receive one.

“...You’re getting married?” Meg asked, breaking the silence. “Why wouldn’t you tell us?”

“Why do you think?” you muttered, pushing around a few things on your plate before standing up, and pushing your chair away. “Excuse me.”

You knew that by leaving, you were only opening yourself up for more criticism, but you genuinely weren’t sure that you’d be able to take one more second of hostility. You pushed your chair back in, before heading off the patio, into the gigantic home, and up to the room that you’d claimed.

You rolled on top of the bed, and screamed into a feather filled pillow. It wasn’t too long after when tears stung your eyes as you came to the conclusion that these monsters were just a few months away from becoming your in-laws.

You thought you’d heard the most of it after the table, yet a prompt knocking at your door proved otherwise. Letting herself in, you turned to face Ransom’s mother herself, and you just knew that you were in for it.

“Listen, you whore,” Linda began in a sharp, yet quiet tone, “I don’t know what you’re trying to do with my son. Isolate him from us. Try to ‘change him’ like I know you think you’re doing. But just know that at the end of the day, he’ll always pick us. You’ll always be the second choice, especially when Ransom realizes that you barely have a dime to your name, and his bank account starts to runs dry,” she approached you, and pointed an accusatory finger towards you. “You’ll never be anything but a disgusting, sloppy little gold digger. You may be his toy of the week, but at the end of the day, you’re just an afterthought. I suggest that you get out of his life sooner than later. I’m sure Ransom wouldn’t mind, considering we already have your replacement with one foot in the door,” she gestured over to the window facing the back patio, where Ransom was chatting with a brunette woman that appeared to be quite a few years younger than himself.

“You’re cute, Y/N. Really! It’s cute that you’re thinking right now that he would never leave you, cheat on you with some new, younger, hotter piece of ass. Just know that you don’t know Ransom as well as you really think you do. I can promise you, it’ll be much easier to break off an engagement than it’ll be to get a divorce. Especially with that prenup he’s considering dropping on your desk any day.” she tutted as if she cared. “Well, sweetheart, it was great meeting you. I’m glad that these were our first and last words together,” she gave your back a pat before leaving the room, and you looked out the window in shock.

Shaking as you dig into the pocket of your sundress, you sent Ransom a simple ‘help’ message, before setting your phone aside and trying to pack your belongings in as quick of a manner as possible.

When Ransom opened the door, a steady stream of tears and mascara was staining your face, while you urgently threw things into your suitcase.

“Goose, what happened?” he gasped, hurrying over to your kneeling form, and setting a hand on your shoulder.

“Why,” you sniffled. “Why would you let her come up here and say all that shit to me!” you croaked, swatting his hand away from you.

“What?” he watched as you pressed down on the overfilled suitcase and frantically attempted to zip it, to no avail. “Linda said she was gonna come apologize?”

“Telling me that I’ll never be enough for you is just a perfect apology,” you muttered, “I need to go home.”

“God,” he grumbled to himself, “This is exactly why I waited so long for them to meet you. Okay, we can go home then. I’ll buy us tickets right now.”

“This is on you too, Ransom. You didn’t tell them about us, like, at all. You had so much time! You couldn’t give Linda a call and say ‘hey I’ve been seeing this girl’ or even tell Harlan to deliver the message for you?” you hiccuped, but continued. “All of this could’ve been avoided if they had four years to adjust to our relationship. Maybe then they wouldn’t call me a whore and a gold digger every other sentence.”

“I was just trying to protect you from them,” he frowned.

You finally managed to zip up the suitcase, and stood up along with it, “well, you clearly did a great job of that.”

You dusted off the skirt of your dress, and grabbed your phone. “I’ll let you know when our car gets here,” you huffed before walking into the en-suite and closing the door behind you, just to have a moment for yourself (and make yourself look a bit more put together before you leave.)

A tense car ride, and awkward flight later, you marched straight into the guest bedroom, and cocooned yourself under a copious amount of blankets. You felt like you stayed there for years, only getting out of bed to shower and use the restroom, and living off of the crustless sandwiches and jarred spaghetti your fiancé brought to your door.

You slept most of the time, and in the moments you weren’t sleeping, you were dwelling on every vicious word thrown at you at the vineyard. Every day, you listened to Ransom apologize through the door, yet every day, you questioned if going through with the wedding was truly the wisest idea.

A few days into your stay in the guest bedroom, you finally allowed Ransom to stay in the room for more than just dropping off food. He sat down next to you in bed, and cupped your cheek in his hand, rubbing his thumb softly back and forth against the skin.

“I don’t know how I can make things right for you,” he said softly. “I really did set you up, and I didn’t even mean to. I should’ve made better decisions, but I can’t change four years ago. But I can keep those heinous people away from you. They’ll never have the chance to do, or say anything like that to you again, okay?” his thumb caught on a tear, which he promptly wiped away. “Just… please don’t leave me. The bed feels too empty without you, and it’s just been a few days. I can’t imagine feeling that emptiness for the rest of my life.”

You whimpered and sat up, abruptly embracing the broad man. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let your idiot family make me question the validity of our relationship,” you muttered into his shirt.

“I promise you you’ll never have to worry about them again. They had their opportunity to make things right, and they missed it.”

-----

Things were more or less smooth sailing after that fiasco. You found your perfect venue, decided on your ideal Honeymoon spot, and finished your seating arrangements with time to spare, and the next thing you knew your wedding day was around the corner.

It all seemed to happen so fast, one second you were being walked down the aisle, the next, exchanging vows and rings as aisles of your friends and family members cheered for you, Y/N Drysdale.

Your reception also seemed to slip right through your fingers, your first dance, toasts and cake cutting finding itself over almost as soon as it started. You were grateful that you hired a wedding videographer, as the day was so overwhelming, you weren’t quite sure how much of it you’d remember.

As you drove off to the airport, Ransom set his hand upon your knee one more time. A warm, fuzzy feeling formed in your chest at the all too familiar gesture. You turned your head from the window to your husband, who was grinning back at you, and couldn’t help but to think of how perfect your wedding ended up, though it felt like it sped by quickly. More than anything, you were grateful that you didn’t give up on Ransom despite his interesting family.

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom drysdale #knives out fanfic #ransom drysdale x you #chris evans x reader

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togetherweflyhigh · 3 years

Text

Chronicles Of Owning A Hybrid| Chapter 1: Here You Are

Pairing: Ragdoll Hybrid! Yoongi x Owner! Female Reader

Genre: Hybrid AU, slow burn, eventual romance

Trigger Warnings: Brief mentions of past harassment/bullying, brief mentions of being gaslighted

W/C: 2.2k

A/N: So, I wrote something. This was very spontaneous of me but this is my first BTS and hybrid related fic. I very much have plans to have this as a small series. From short to long chapters. I have no idea how much this will be updated.

Comments and kudos are encouraged!

It wasn’t supposed to happen, truthfully.

You were asked by a friend to attend a consultation with them because they felt nervous about going in alone. They needed some support so, going with them was going to be fine. Because that’s all that was supposed to happen.

Now, here you were at your appointment, alone because you weren’t sure how to ask your friend since they were home still getting associated with their hybrid. Nobody knew you were here doing this. Reviewing over a cat hybrid- a Ragdoll- that was on his fourth strike.

Past families that adopted this hybrid before only saw the breed he was. A pretty Ragdoll cat. Not the human he mostly presented as. They thought that just because he was mixed with a Ragdoll meant he would be gentle, calm, and sociable. A known cat breed to be perfect with families. What they got was the complete opposite.

The most they seemed to be able to tell you was he’d been adopted four times already, the longest housing being six months. He was quiet and didn’t interact much with the other hybrids in the shelter. Mostly stayed in the same areas in the room they had for them. The way they spoke about him, made you think they were trying to discourage you from adoption. You couldn’t see what was so wrong with him even when they were describing him as distant and antisocial, overall unfriendly. It still didn’t make you rethink it for some reason. Something in you wanted to give him a place to call home after hearing all this.

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A few weeks went by with no word from the shelter. You were starting to think the extra shifts for the past month and a half at work for preparation were in vain. Perhaps they were being more cautious of his strikes and worried you would return him like all the others. If it was, for this reason, you really couldn’t blame them to be picky about who was to attempt adopting him next. You could only hope they cared so much for those in their care.

As you washed some dishes that had been a bit overdue, your phone rang. You weren’t quick to answer, at first, as hope had gone from high to low in the few weeks. Though, you still dried your hands-off because it could have been work. Who knew you’d be seeing the number you’d familiarize yourself with. Your heartbeat must have doubled as you stumbled over, sliding the answer button. “H-Hello?” You answered, cringing over your nervous voice. “This is Hope’s Shelter calling for (Y/N)(L/N), we were wondering if you were still interested in adopting?” The words felt like they were going through one ear and out the other. You weren’t all too sure what to expect when answering the call but hope had suddenly being reassured. “Yes, of course!” You answered almost too quickly. The eagerness felt as if it was spilling out of you at this point. “Great! Would Thursday be fine for you to come in?” It was currently Monday, another few days was nothing to wait for after these weeks. “That works out perfectly.”

After the short goodbyes were said, you stood there in your kitchen nearly dumbfounded. You were officially days away from adopting a hybrid. Suddenly, the mixed feeling of excitement and worry came over you. The first week was only filled with thoughts of not living in your apartment alone anymore. In the past, you had roommates. Some worked out just fine and others not so much. To the point, you never wanted to experience them again unless it was a close friend.

The second week was filled with doubts of if you even seemed worthy enough to take care of another, especially when the other couldn’t exactly take care of themselves. Hybrids didn’t have much freedom. They couldn’t go anywhere alone without their owners. Unless they were service hybrids, which there was a lot to go through to get them certified. They really couldn’t do anything and suddenly thinking about that, you realize how weird it’s going to be for someone to call or to even refer to you as their ‘owner’ will be.

There was no way in hell you could treat hybrids as a pet. They were way more human than human and capable of feelings of understanding, not at all saying normal animals weren’t capable of such. There were a few times you’d gone over to a friend’s house and they introduced you to their hybrid. Sure they had some traits of the animal they were mixed with, but they acted like their human part in front of you for the most part. This was nearly the only time you’d interacted with hybrids. So, the experience was on the low of how they truly acted behind closed doors.

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The few days of waiting went by sluggishly. Mentally you had a list of things to do or things you thought you needed to do before Thursday. You went out and bought a few different types of clothes, not much as you had no idea of what he would like. Bought more food than you’d ever stocked your home with before, again, not knowing what he would like. There was so much you didn’t even know about him yet, not even his name.

Standing in front of the shelter, the weeks and days of waiting were finally over. The nerves and enthusiasm had mellowed out in the slow waiting days. Though, you couldn’t help feel a little nervous walking into the shelter.

Almost immediately, you were pulled into an office to go over some paperwork. It was nearly the same as papers to adopt a normal animal. It didn’t seem as strict since you didn’t need things for an animal. Though, you were surprised at how they didn’t seem so… disheartening towards you anymore.

Signing the papers felt unreal as the pen glided across the paper. You had officially adopted a hybrid.

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Being a hybrid wasn’t all it was cut out to be, at least, not for Yoongi. Spending nearly all his life in the shelter. Maybe a year and a half were in actual homes. It was probably not even that if he was being honest with himself, but after the third home, he stopped counting the days and hoping.

The first time he was adopted, he was around ten years old, a little old for being adopted but nothing too bad. The family was looking for a hybrid around their twin son and daughter’s age, and Yoongi just happened to be two years younger than them. It was perfect they thought. It seemed like a happy family a month in but there was change. The children were constantly harassing him, pulling his ears and tail, pressured him to do things that would get the adults involved to the point of punishments.

It went on for months before they returned him, saying he was a deceiver and untameable. Yoongi was unsure of what they meant by this as it was their children who were the liars. Even when he told the caregivers of the time he had with them, it never seemed like they thought he was telling the truth either.

It was some years before Yoongi was adopted again. Age thirteen going on fourteen. He was adopted by a young couple. Must have been between the ages twenty-two to twenty-five. He never got around to asking because as soon as he was there he was brought back. The couple seemed to want to prove to themselves that they could take care of another breathing being. That is what he gathered by overhearing them a few times. All it did was tear them apart in the end over disagreements on how to take care of him.

The next two times were practically the same. One was lonely while the other was another person trying to prove something to themselves. Yoongi was done with these humans and their selfish ways. He didn’t want to attempt to get close with them anymore when he knew that they would return him like a replaceable item in the end.

Yet, another was trying to adopt him again. ‘I’m too old for this.’ He thought to himself when he was dragged into the office to be told someone was interested in him. Being twenty-five years old as a hybrid was considered old. Unadoptable. Plus he was on his fourth strike. A fifth- and by law- would mean he would have to be put to sleep.

The weeks dragged on because of him constantly denying to see through with this person’s desire to adopt him. It was an actual decision between life and death. He thought about it though. Would he rather be stuck in here? Wasting away inclosed in white walls or to live out in the world just a little bit longer, if the person would let him out that was.

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The introduction of you and the hybrid, who you now knew as Yoongi was, well, short and awkward. Was it to be expected? The short answer is yes. Yoongi seemed unfazed and distant right away which, in a way, you know he would be like this. The real question was, was he always going to be like this. You were new to each other, so feeling like strangers was going to be present for a while.

The taxi ride home was silent. Nothing but the sound of wheels on the pavement with random songs playing on the radio softly. You wanted to make some kind of conversation with Yoongi, you did, but with awkwardness still lingering heavily in the air, it was difficult to start with anything. It was interesting to spot his ears out of the corner of your eye, twitching ever so often.

The climb up the stairs was just as silent. Nothing but the taps of feet with some huffs from you nearly the top. No matter how many times you’d walked up these four flights of stairs, you were sure to always be out of breath before reaching your door.

By the time you reached your door, you were indeed out of breath, and with the last huff, you pulled out your key unlocking the door, pushing it open revealing the seemingly small apartment. “And home.” You spoke out as you began pulling your shoes off, placing them on a rack before slipping into house slippers. “Oh, here’s some slippers for you. If you want to wear them.” You already owned some for when you had guests but you went ahead and bought new ones specially for Yoongi. Looking at them now, they seemed a bit… small. Though it didn’t seem to matter as Yoongi slipped off the shoes the shelter provided and ignored the slippers.

“I have a room for you ready.” You spoke again after a moment of silence. Seems silence between you two was something you were going to have to get used to. Walking through the kitchen and living area- either side had a room the same size. Though the room to the right used to be your storage and office space, you were able to move things around in your room for your desk and got rid of some stuff you’ve been meaning to. Now the once-office turned back to a bedroom. It was pretty bare besides the matching wood bed and dresser you’d bought.

Moving aside to the doorframe, allowing Yoongi in the room to inspect it. His eyes never seemed to stop taking in things. His ears moved with him as he looked around and his tail was low as the tip curled to one side.

As he took in the new home, you took in his unique hair color. It was probably the Ragdoll genes but the contrast between his hair and the fur on his ears and tail were a bit different. His hair was silver-grey and as for the fur, it was a bit lighter in the same color. You wondered for a moment if his DNA was manipulative to make the animal features stand out more but you quickly shook the thought away. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable even though it was just a thought.

“There’s some clothes in the dresser. I wasn’t sure what you like so, there are a few things in the dresser. Just for until we go shopping.” The response you got was nothing but an ‘mhm’. Yoongi seemed uninterested but curious about the clothes you’d gotten. He wanted to know if it was the type they would get him. Well-fitted ones that rubbed and itched all over. As he pulled them out, sure enough, there were the ones he knew he would find but as he kept pulling out and unfolding the clothes he found some that were baggy and much softer. Something about watching him digging through the clothes felt endearing and it showed on your face with a small smile on your lips.

As you turned away to allow him to have some privacy you wondered to yourself what Yoongi would want to have for dinner.

#min yoongi x reader #hybrid!yoongi x reader #hybrid!bts x reader #bts x reader #bts hybrid au #bts scenarios #bts reactions #bts au #min yoongi #yoongi x reader

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blessednereid · 3 years

Text

Pity the Living

Daniel Sharman x Reader Series

A/N: The Much Requested, and By Requested, I mean @rogershoe wanted me to write this, MY DANIEL SHARMAN FANFICTION!!!!!! The character that Y/N plays is based on my OC for FTWD and is not an actual character in FTWD. Basic Premise of the setting for this chapter is that they're in high-school/ secondary school. But for the majority of the story(minus flashbacks) it's set in 2016/17 when s3 of FTWD was filmed.

Story Summary: When (Y/N) (L/N) reunites with a high-school friend on the set of the job she's been working on for the past 2-3 years, not only is she excited to work with the guy who inspired her to go into acting, but to hear about what he's done since she's seen him. But the more they talk, the more she realizes, this reunion is not going the way she had planned.

CW: Cursing? brief mention of alcohol, anxiety, mentions of food, fake dagger, fake blood, bets,

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Career Day

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Most of the students around you were chorusing to the tune of your school anthem, but not you. You had heard the melody and sung it almost a million times. Whether you were exaggerating or not, not even you knew. Instead, you were whispering and laughing with one of your best friends, Daniel Sharman.

You met Daniel when you first came to the school. You didn't know many people. You didn't even know yourself in this place. It was a completely foreign experience, but he stuck by your side and showed you around.

Since then, you had made friends, joined the swim team, learned your way around the school without ending up in the boys' restrooms instead of the girls' ones. Despite not needing Daniel to show you around anymore, he still provided plenty of comedic support and pick-me-ups and was a great mate all around.

Your teacher had just finished introducing all the parents who were presenting at career day. The assignment being after the presentations were finished, you were supposed to think about what you wanted to be in the future. You had no idea what you wanted to be. But of course… Daniel did.

"An actor."

"An actor?" he nodded. "Like Macbeth?"

"No, Macbeth is a character. An actor is a person who plays the character."

"Why an actor?"

"Dunno. Just seems right."

You frowned. "Huh, that's nice. Knowing what you want to be."

"You could always try acting. It's worth a shot."

"Hah, if I ever tried acting, it would probably be when I'm old, senile, and look like Betty White."

"Oh, come on. You're a great actress!"

"What's that supposed to mean, Sharman?" you gasped.

"Just that you tell fibs and stories as if they were the truth. That's all acting is."

"I DO NOT!"

"How did you convince your mum that your dog jumped onto the table and ate the cake without making any noise last weekend, then?" You opened your mouth to speak before closing it.

"Cat got your tongue?" he teased.

"Shut up, Sharman."

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L/N Residence

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You and Daniel were both swimming in the pool in your backyard when Daniel asked you the question.

"Did you think about it?"

Still floating, you asked, "About what?"

"Acting."

You laughed incredulously. "You were serious?"

"Of course I was." He swam closer to you and pulled your leg down, making you flop around and splash water.

"WHAT THE HELL!"

"Was just trying to get your attention," he remarked innocently.

You coughed. "You had it."

"Picture this," he waved you off. "Us, on the red carpet-"

"Who's red carpet?"

"Does it matter? We'll be each other's dates anyways."

"Why is that?" you asked.

"Because we're best friends."

"What if one of us has a boyfriend or girlfriend?"

He shrugged. "Ok, whatever. We're on the red carpet separately. It's both of ours red carpet-"

"So, does that mean we're in a movie together?"

"Yes, Y/N," he muttered exasperatedly.

"But that's impossible?"

"Why do you say that?"

You leaned closer to his ear. "BECAUSE I'M NOT BECOMING AN ACTOR."

He jumped away from you, proceeding to splash you with water.

"Mark my words. I know talent when I see it."

You sighed. "Could this just be you not wanting to be lonely in the acting world?"

He jutted his lip and spoke in a whiny voice. "Maybe…"

You laughed before splashing a giant wave of water at him. While he still had water in his eyes, you dove under and pulled him down.

He flailed around before his head popped up, and he calmed down.

"WHAT THE HELL!"

"PAYBACK, SHARMAN!"

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Announcement

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The intercom gave a heavy buzz, and static-y noises ran amok over the building before a voice actually came through the speakers.

"Hello, Teachers, Students, and Faculty. Welcome back to school. We hope that you all enjoyed your holidays and got the rest you needed to pay attention in class today," the last part was passive. Your principal gave more announcements for clubs and sports around the school, such as upcoming games or reminders for students to buy the school yearbook.

You were nodding along interested, or looking for interest really when something caught your best friend's attention.

"The school will also be hosting its first-ever play, Romeo and Juliet. Interested people should report to the music room before the end of the week to receive information."

You saw Daniel's eyes widen only moments before he spoke up. "Hey," he waved at you. "You should audition!"

"Daniel, are you insane?"

He chuckled, "No, but I think you'd like it."

You tried arguing, but he wasn't taking no for an answer. "You're the one who said you didn't know what you wanted to do after you graduated. Doing this cannot hurt."

"Yeah, it can't hurt until I trip on my costumes and break my neck!"

"That rarely ever happens," he said exasperatedly. "Ok, how about this? You audition, and if you end up getting a role and actually doing the play, I'll give you fifty pounds."

You squinted. "Do you even have fifty pounds to give me?"

"Do you even have to ask," he feigned shock in the accusation? You gave a sour face before he truthfully answered. "Fine, I don't have it now. But I will by the time the play comes around."

"What do I get just for auditioning?"

"I'll convince my mum to make that cake you like."

"Fine."

"BUT!" he exclaimed. "You have to audition for Juliet."

"You're kidding?"

He laughed. "No, I'm not. You have to audition for Juliet."

"I hate you," you mumbled before sighing a whispered 'fine.'

He gave a toothy smile. "Then we have a deal."

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Auditions

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You reluctantly walked onto the stage, Daniel's widening grin so visible in the audience. He said that he only put his name on the audition sheet so he could watch the auditions. He would've already been gone by the time it was his turn.

"Hello, My name is Y/n L/n, and I am auditioning for Juliet," your lips pressing into a straight line after saying the sentence.

You stammered through your first few lines. "Sh-Shall I speak ill of him— that is my husband?" You said with a laugh.

"Ah," you paused and clicked your tongue. "Poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name… When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it?"

You said your following line in an accusatory manner. "But wherefore, villain... didst thou kill my cousin?" you said, though your voice squealed trying to pronounce 'didst.' "That villain cousin would have killed my husband."

"Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring!" Your voice rose and fell several octaves. "Your tributary drops belong to woe, Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy." Fake tears spring to your eyes, your voice cracked, and you began slowly falling against an invisible wall.

You looked down at your paper for what to say next. "My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain; And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband. All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then?" You wiped your cheeks dramatically.

"Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death, That murd'red me. I would forget it fain;" your lips quivered, and you sucked in deep, heaving breaths before speaking your line.

"But O, it presses to my memory. Like damnèd guilty deeds to sinners' minds! 'Tybalt is dead, and Romeo--banishèd!" You shouted.

You stood back up in a startling jump, and with a proud smile, you said triumphantly, "And Scene!"

The directors and some students in the audience, especially Daniel, gave a round of applause before the director dismissed you.

You took the steps to the stage and sat next to Daniel as the director called the next student to audition.

"You were amazing! The director might as well have given you the role right then and there."

You laughed, "Hang on, charmer. There were a bunch of Juliet's who literally said that entire thing so… fluently. I stammered through the whole thing."

"But you showed more emotion than anyone else. You only had a week to prepare. The actual show will be like child's play."

"They want people who can memorize and recite. The emotion can be added later, but it's worth nothing if they forget their lines."

"There is such a thing called improvising for a reason," he reassured.

"Who in their right, bloody minds wants to improvise Shakespeare?"

He turned his head and chuckled before waving a five-pound note in front of your face. "Here, I got to go before they call me, but you earned this at least."

"Five pounds for being forced to audition for a stupid play so you can prove a point? Wow, you must really fancy me, huh, Sharman?" you said sarcastically.

"Goodbye, L/n," he whispered before sneaking out the back door of the auditorium.

"Alright, next up. Daniel Sharman!" The director shouted your friend's name a few more times before giving up.

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Headmasters Office

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A week after your audition, you were called to the headmasters' office. Thus is the cause of the curious looks from your classmates. Oohs and Aahs flooded your ears as you grabbed your bag and headed out the door to the front of the school.

When you got to the front of the building and went into the headmasters' office, you saw the Theatre director, Ms Parker, standing behind the desk. "Headmaster Leo allowed me to use his office to do this. Isn't that cool?"

Ms Parker was one of the younger teachers in school. She was twenty-four, and this was her first year teaching after receiving her bachelor's degree in education and a master's degree in music production. A fact she could astoundingly ramble about for fifteen minutes. As proven at the auditions.

"I didn't want to call you to the theatre room. That would be too predictable, correct?" You'd come to realize she was a very eccentric woman. "I have called you in here to inform you that you have been selected to perform in this year's play of Romeo and Juliet."

A wave of shock coursed through your body, and you were sure it reflected on your face. "Are you sure?"

"Darling, I'm positive!- your audition was totally spectacular! So brilliant-in fact- that I am completely sure in my choice to make you our female lead- Juliet!"

"What!" Your eyes widened into a blank stare. Your thoughts were running rampant in your mind. You thought that performing on the stage would be a breeze when you weren't the lead.

"Ms Parker, I didn't actually want the part of Juliet! It's just that my friend dared me to audition for Juliet! Is there no way I can get a smaller part? I'm no Juliet. The show would be ruined," you rambled.

The directors' facial expressions softened, "Darling, you are the only choice. None of the other people who auditioned can even compare to the amount of passion you produced in that audition. I am determined to have you as our Juliet."

You whimpered out an "Ok." Professors had a strange way of convincing you to do extra credit assignments or things that aren't necessary.

"We have a chemistry read for you and a few of our other choices for Romeo after school today. Do you need to contact a parent to let them know where you'll be?"

"Uh, yes, please."

After you made your call, you walked back to your classroom with shaky hands. The class period was almost over, but you had to tell Daniel that you had gotten a part in the show. Not just any part- THE PART!

You shuffled into the classroom reluctantly. All eyes were on you as every student had assumed you'd been in trouble. Either suspended, expelled, or told your parents were going to have a sit-down with the headmaster.

You took your seat next to Daniel before taking out a piece of paper and writing out a note, encompassing the words, "I got the part!"

You slid the sheet discreetly onto his desk. When he read it, his eyes widened, and he quietly moved his hands toward yours, beckoning for a high five.

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First Rehearsal

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After the chemistry read, the role of Romeo was given to a kid named James Mercer-Allen got the part. Though it was more because the directors were starting to become tired.

The next day was the first rehearsal. Swimming season was last semester, so there was no clash in schedules with the play.

"Alright, this rehearsal is to get acquainted with the stage, your fellow actors, and directors," she insisted. "Now, let's introduce ourselves. Can our Romeo please stand up?"

James stood up and gave a brief introduction. You were called on next. You stated your name, "I was on the swim team last semester, and I'm in my thirteenth year. I hope I can do this role justice."

More students stood up to introduce themselves. The entire process took more than thirty minutes.

The next thing to happen was that the rest of the students were called to recite lines for various roles. The only parts that had been cast preliminarily were Romeo and Juliet.

You and James had sat on the wooden stools unless there was a scene going on that needed Romeo and/or Juliet.

By the end of the first rehearsal, the majority of the speaking roles were cast. You went home exhausted but not expecting the conversation that waited for you.

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The Talk

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"We're moving?" you shouted at your parents from your seat across from them in the sitting room. "What do you mean we're moving."

"Honey, your dad got a job in the states, so we have to move," your mother argued.

"But what about school? No school will take me in the middle of the year, and it's my last year of secondary school. I don't want to spend the rest of my last year knowing nobody."

Your dad, the man of the hour, spoke up. "Dear, we're moving at the end of the year. After school ends."

"But- What about Uni?"

"You said you were taking a sabbatical year!"

"Yes, so I could intern in London!"

"Can't you intern in California?" Your mother whined.

"We're going to California? It's the furthest state?"

Your dad attempted to reassure you but failed. "Darling, it won't be that bad. Maybe you'll like it there more than you like it here!"

"I could never like anywhere more than I like it here!"

You agreed to go to your room and spent the rest of the day there. Later on, after you finished moping, you ringed up your closest friends to tell them you were moving. You did that until you were so tired you fell asleep on the phone with Sarah before you even called Daniel.

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Confrontation

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"Why am I hearing from everyone besides you that you're moving?" Daniel appeared out of thin air behind you, and the accusation was an assault on your conscience.

You could lie and tell him that you wanted to reveal that to him in person, or you could just tell him the truth- say you fell asleep. Mix-and-Match? You ended up just telling the truth. "I fell asleep when I was making some of my other calls. I was going to tell you, I swear!"

"Why didn't you call me first. I'm your best friend?"

"That's why! It was too hard. I kept putting it off and putting it off and putting it off because I didn't want to tell you, I don't want it to be true, and telling you of all people would make it feel real."

"Why can't you stay for Uni?"

"I already told my parents I was taking a gap year. I didn't apply to any colleges."

"Crap!" he sighed. "Ok, well, we're going to have to make the most of it. And! You're getting a going away party!"

"Daniel, I don't need-"

"No debate! You are getting a going away party!"

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Opening Night

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Four months later, after all the rehearsals and memorizations of lines. After much running around the entire film department, it was finally opening night, and your nerves were shot.

You were scrambling all morning to find everything you needed. All your costumes were at the school, but you still needed to bring your black leotard, skin-coloured tights, and wear your hair in an up-do style.

You decided to do your skincare routine, but your panic got the best of you, and you forgot what every single product was used for.

Daniel came over and helped you get ready but found you practically hyperventilating.

Your parents drove you both to the theatre, and when Ms Parker told you that Daniel couldn't be backstage, you promptly told her that he was your emotional support. After much arguing, she finally let him backstage.

Around an hour before showtime, the director told Daniel that he had to go wait in the audience if he already bought his ticket or that he had to go do it now.

Before he left, he gave you a pep-talk. "Hey, so one time, I was in this play, and the idea was that I was expelled, and there was a piece of paper I had to give my 'mother,' but I lost it. So we had to improvise, but I couldn't find the paper, and I felt horrible. So just know, even if you forget your lines, you must improvise, and remember, it still probably won't compare to the embarrassment I felt that day. So you can laugh at my humiliation. "

You chuckled, "I will. Ok, go before you get in trouble."

"Ok, me, our parents and all your friends will be in the front row. I've already reserved the entire row. I brought a whole bag of jackets just for that reason!"

"You can't do that," you said in between cackles.

"For you, I'll do anything," he grinned.

A few hours later and the show was almost done. "What's here? A cup, closed in my true love's hand? Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end," you wept.

"O, churl! Drunk all and left no friendly drop to help me after? I will kiss thy lips; Haply some poison yet doth hang on them, to die with thine restorative." You leaned over James and let your hair fall to the side of your head to cover your face. You pulled back without actually kissing James.

"Thy lips are warm."

A whispery voice came from offstage, "Which way?" The cue for you to take the poison, which was actually cranberry juice.

"Yea, noise? Then I'll be brief. O happy dagger!" You grabbed the dagger and brought it near your chest. "This is thy sheath;" you drew the fake knife back three inches from your chest and stabbed it to where the bag of more cranberry juice was and punctured the bag. 'Blood' soaked through your dress. "There rust, and let me die." You fell dramatically onto the altar and waited for the scene to end as the crowd cheered.

After the show, you dashed into the crowd where your friends and family waited for you. Ovations and Applauses were passed, lauded boxes of chocolates and gorgeous roses were given.

When you got to Daniel, he practically tackled you with a hug. "I actually thought you died for a split second. The blood looked so real."

"Daniel, most people don't bleed that fast, do they?"

"I don't know but fear kicked in, and I couldn't make sense of anything."

You grinned and almost went to your parents before Daniel grabbed your arm. "You don't have a date to the Leavers ball, do you?"

"No, I don't. Why?"

He sighed. "Well, I was thinking that you could go with me. I don't have a date either."

You squinted, thinking there was some ulterior motive behind his actions. "Ok, I'll go with you if you give me the money you owe me before then."

"It's right here," he smiled.

Your face scrunched up, but you reluctantly agreed. You only had a month of school left, and you might as well spend it having fun with your friends.

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

The Leavers Ball and the Getaway Party

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

You were dressed in a light blue, pleated, Mikado prom dress that cut off at mid-thigh. You had black wedges on your feet and a black pearl-beaded bracelet on your arm.

You were wearing a half-up, half-down style that framed your face and a silver necklace with a circle-shaped diamond.

You were sitting in the parlour when Daniel rang the doorbell. He was ten minutes late.

"Sorry," he said when your dad answered it. "I know I'm late. I was picking up Kat and James."

Kat and James were your and Daniel's respective friends who'd started last year after you and Daniel introduced them.

"Hi," you popped out of the shadows. "Alright, Mom, Dad, we're late, so we're just going to get goi-"

"Wait! I have to take pictures! Go get Kat and James."

"No, Mom. No pictures!"

"It's only right. I just want a few. We can take it outside."

You sighed but reluctantly caved into your mother's will.

The four of you took pictures outside of Daniel's Jeep Wrangler. You took ones with silly faces, just girls, just boys, and ones with all four of you before your parents allowed you to leave.

You were forty minutes late, and the ball was already in full swing by the time you got there.

You got on the dance floor immediately because one of your favourite songs was playing, but the DJ switched the song as soon as you found a decent spot. It was a slow song. You chuckled, and Daniel put his hands on your waist.

"Well, this is awkward."

A few minutes later, Daniel posed an interesting question.

"Did you know that I had a crush on you when you first came to school?"

"Uh, you stammered. "No, I didn't know that."

"Yeah, I did. It was short, though. Surface-level."

"Oh," you said. "Should I take offence to that?"

"What?" His eyes widened in realization with what he said. "No, that's not what I meant. You have an amazing personality. I just meant that… I just meant I like you more as a friend than to ruin that with any of those feelings."

"Oh, ok. You wouldn't have, though."

"I wouldn't?"

"No, everyone needs an ego boost every once in a while."

"Haha!"

"And besides, I've had feelings for you at one point too. But it was very cliche, so I tried to shake it as hard as I could."

"Oh?" He raised his eyebrows. "And did you?"

"Like I said, as hard as I could. If it's still there somewhere, it's buried very deep, so much so that I was embarrassed."

"Embarrassed to like me?"

"I mean embarrassed to try and make my life seem like some movie."

"Oh, well, if you did, it would've just made you that much better as an actress. Speaking of that, would you consider acting in the least?"

"Maybe, now that I'm leaving, it's basically the last thing I have to connect me to you."

"No," he said, pointing to your bracelet. "You have that."

You had forgotten that it was Daniel who gave it to you, but the realization brought a smile to your face. "Oh yeah, I'll never take it off."

Later on, long before the ball ended, you saw many of your friends leaving.

"Hey, are you ready to go?" Daniel approached you.

"Where is everyone going?"

He wriggled his eyebrows. "Afterparty!"

"But it's not over?"

"Quit being a party popper and just come with us, L/N!"

You gave in, something you did a lot, and you all started driving. When you got there, you realized you were at Daniel's house.

"The afterparty is at your house?" you asked.

"Well…" James answered.

Kat joined in. "It's really an afterparty!"

"This is your going away party!" Daniel finished.

"But I'm not going away for another month."

"Well, now you have an entire month for people to give you gifts and stuff, and you don't have to worry about the party!" He reasoned.

"But why did it have to be after the Leavers ball?"

"Because you're already in a dress, and it has to be a surprise! Surprise!" Kat exclaimed.

"Alright, fine!"

The entire night you partied and danced, and though you didn't drink alcohol, plentiful amounts of pop and mocktails were passed around. The music was a delight to your ears with all your favourite songs. There were chips and pizza with all your favourite toppings.

"This party is awesome!"

Daniel grinned. "Well, I am an amazing party planner if I do say so myself."

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Airport

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

Daniel's parents drove your family to the airport. Your parents had sold the car. Your dad would return in a week to close a deal on the house. Everything was official, and now you were leaving.

You got out of the car, and the tears forcefully began to fall.

"I'm really gonna miss you, jerk," you said disdainfully to Daniel.

He chuckled. "I'm going to miss you more."

"Impossible!"

He wiped the fallen tear from your eye, and for a moment, you could see every single multi-coloured speck in his eyes and noticed how sometimes they looked blue, and at others, they looked grey or green.

You noticed the curvature of his smile and the chisel of his jawline.You saw the hurt in his eyes that said, 'why do you have to go? You're killing me,' and wanted to never move from that position.

He continued to rub the tears that fell onto your cheek, and the sad moment was as sheltered as it could be. You felt safe with him, in his arms, just looking at his face and being reminded of how he comforted you in a place that felt as familiar as Oz felt to Dorothy.

"What am I gonna do without you?" you whispered.

"Get at least one acting job, get an assistant and an agent, I'll do the same thing, and then either one of us has our assistants reach out to our agents, so we get back in touch in case we ever lose touch."

He sounded so grave that you couldn't help but laugh. "That's assuming I do become an actress, Daniel."

"You're right," he whined. "But don't forget me."

"I promise."

And you tried to keep that promise. Throughout your first year, you interned at UCLA, working in the lab. You then applied to go to school there, and you still tried to keep Daniel in your mind. Maintaining a social life on campus combined with schoolwork already wasn't easy. However, you still wouldn't let yourself forget your best friend.

It wasn't until you entered your senior year and you were about to graduate that he started to wane in your memories. The things you did together became obsolete as new friends and memories replaced the old. The things he taught you were thrown out to make space for the new lessons you learned each day.

Even when you did become an actress, you never really remembered why you decided to. You remembered that your friend pushed you to do that play, but it was almost ten years ago, and for the life of you, you couldn't remember his name.

But you did do it, first as an extra, then a body double, and then you started getting l roles on smaller shows. But your big break was getting a quasi-lead role on the spin-off of a big television show, The Walking Dead. For two years, you enjoyed going to conventions and playing the complex character, Valeria Bishop, and you thought you had it all figured out.

But life has a funny way of coming full circle and throwing you a curveball that knows you off course and changes your life.

#Daniel Sharman x reader #daniel sharman fic #Daniel Sharman imagine #Daniel Sharman fluff #Daniel Sharman angst #very angsty #ftwd imagine #twd imagine #troy otto imagine #dylan obrien imagine #that last one is for exposure #I have no regrets

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onmyyan · 3 years

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Hi its me again. I love your writing and the fact that there isn't as much abuse like there is in others. It reminds me of old yandere stories were it was genuine lovesickness. Anyway, how do you think jjba yanderes would react to a darling that is taller and more muscular than them by quite a bit. You can do whoever you like I don't mind.

A/N: Omg ily🥺 it means a lot you said all that because I really love this genre it’s my comfort trope anyway thank you for the request n I hope ya like it!! Kira should be a trigger warning in an of itself but dw he’s just weird, not mean. Mentions of his past ‘girlfriends’, a curse word or two, lil suggestive in someplace’s Mista murks a few people, tw//gun violence

Characters: Pt2 Joseph, Josuke, Kira, Mista

Joseph was used to looking down on people, standing at a proud 6’5” he was literally and figuratively knocked on his ass when he’d first laid eyes on you, his immediate thought was you were a forgotten pillarman coming from nowhere to get revenge for your masters only to quickly realize you were just a stallion. You were strong enough to put him on his back after one too many cheeky comments. Unafraid to speak your mind and keep him in check, You would stare down at him with that mind melting smirk, all too aware of his frustrations, you assumed he was just being a man, ashamed to be outclassed by someone other than himself, oh honey how wrong you were. You enjoyed teasing the behemoth of a man as no one else really could, at least not as well as you did, throughout your little jabs and snark he always had a retort, a response on the tip of his tongue, eager to do this dance of yours until one of you broke, to you he was a way too cocky dangerously self assured pretty boy who was entertainingly easy to rile up, but to Joseph, you were his everything. Someone he could proudly take home to Granny Erina once he’d finally tamed you. He had a plan, a three step plan to steal your heart just as you’d done his, and this little game of who could annoy the other the most was just step 1. “It’s been fun JoJo but you’re gonna have to find someone else to bother.” You’d jokingly said one day out of the blue, an odd friendship had formed through the month you’d been in town and it felt wrong to leave without notice, an act of kindness you’d learn to regret. “Is this one of your famous jokes (Y/n)? Not so funny to play with a mans heart like that I nearly believed you.” He finished with a scoff, his signature smirk not reaching his eyes. “It’s true Joseph, my flight leaves tomorrow, I didn’t wanna leave without saying goodbye, because as much as we fuck around you’re pretty fun to hang out with.” Your sincerity almost made him feel bad about rushing the next few steps of his plan, he’d have to cram months of planning into a night but he’d accomplished more with less time on his side. He huffed, his grin stretched wide across his handsome features. “Then we outta make tonight count eh?” A thick arm was tossed around your neck, you had to bend awkwardly for this to be possible much to your amusement. “Okay you weirdo, whatever you say.” You let him lead you around town with a grin, unaware you’d be missing that plane, and any other one you tried to take without him.

Josuke watched you eat with the dopiest grin on his face, he’d spent an extra hour in the mirror this morning in preparation for your first official date! Well you didn’t exactly know it it was a date and Okayasu was eating rather messily beside you two but still! You’d actually agreed to come to Toni’s with him! You’d been an enigma since you transferred to the bizarre town, choosing to keep to yourself, and despite the intimidating height and mass you possessed, he saw through your act in seconds. There was a huge softie under all that muscle, he’d watched you enough to know this as a fact, you were a gem and he was intent on showing you his appreciation and adoration for the rest of his days, a vow he’d silently taken the day you’d stolen his heart, the moment was brief in reality but it lasted forever in his mind, you smiled at him in passing, he could feel time slow down, everyone around you faded in the background, a backdrop to the beginning of your story. He could imagine telling your kids how you’d met, something about the way you’d stare down at him, eyes sharp and attentive, like you truly listened when people spoke, your laugh was loud when it was real and every time he heard it he felt 10 years added to his lifespan. At the same time that icky feeling at another person making you laugh was conflicting, he’d never been in love before but he suddenly understood why his mom had never given up on his dad, love was weird but he wouldn’t give it up for anything. You’d accidentally snapped your chopsticks laughing too hard at a joke he’d tossed out, your face scrunched in embarrassment before chuckling at yourself and switching to a fork, his stand came out on its own, pocketing the shards to fix later, a new item for his ever growing collection, what a cute little memento from your first date! His thoughts swirled happily with the stories you’d be telling your kids. Thankfully neither of you noticed his little pickpocket moment, dangerous plans forming as he stared at you with those misleadingly soft puppy dog eyes.

Kira could die in this moment, happily I might add, as your firm but soft hand was wrapped oh so deliciously around his throat threatening to crush it with ease at the slightest movement. He’d been watching you for a while now, the longest he’d ever spent on someone he didn’t plan to kill, it become sort of hobby he’d picked up recently, the morally upsetting activity bringing peace to his day to day, usually he used his stand to carefully observe your routine, eager to learn all he could about his future spouses likes and desires, but he was getting greedy. Of course he could always introduce himself but he resisted, knowing there was a time and place to get exactly what he wanted. He liked to think he knew everything about you by now, your favorite color, how you liked your coffee, your love for cats, but he didn’t anticipate this. You were much more observant than he’d given you credit for, while you couldn’t see his stand you could sense yourself being watched, and seeing the large blonde lurking indiscriminately in the crowds throughout the day was enough to set you off. So you trailed off into the less crowded parts of town quickly entering an alleyway, he followed in pure confusion only to be roughly slammed into the wall, his stand came out on reflex but simply stared at his attacker, it seemed almost confused as what to do. “Why the hell are you following me pretty boy?” His eyes rolled to the back of his head at the feel of your fingers tightening, god he’d never felt this rush of exhilaration, none of his past ‘girlfriends’ could pull such an illicit reaction from him with a simple touch. When he didn’t answer you simply scoffed and tossed him aside like it was nothing. You left with a threat to stay out of your sight, yet all he could do was smile, the faint imprint of your fingers burned in his skin deliciously, how lucky could one man get?

Mista observed you with hungry eyes. His stare was unapologetically locked on your form. He made no intention to hide his attraction for you. The day you’d joined Buccarati’s crew was the day his world flipped. He assumed his new teammate would be no one to fuck with based on what Bruno told him about your stand, but when you walked in? Needing to bend down slightly just to enter the doorway had him sweating in his seat. He didn’t know what to say as he watched you happily interact with his fellow teammates, immediately you blended with the group, but all that was running through his mind were all the fun things you could do with those muscles. He usually stayed silent around you, not out of dislike as one would assume from his piercing gaze, but fear of accidentally voicing one of those nasty thoughts kept him quiet. You didn’t seem to mind though, always including him in the conversation, you even understood his very valid fear of that dreaded number! How could god plop such a perfect person in his lap and expect him to not do anything about it? Alas, Bruno had specifically told them not to make you uncomfortable with any flirting so he bit his tongue. Your aura was calming, a contrast to your powerful stand, speaking of, he couldn’t get his under control. Whenever they could Sex Pistols was out and all over you. They climbed and clamored for your attention, thankfully you didn’t seem to mind, always entertained their antics when you could, even giving each one a small peck when they wouldn’t let you leave for a mission without Mista, to say he was done for was an understatement, it took one mission going foul for his resistance to snap. His stand moved faster than it ever had, piercing the skulls of the idiots who brought you pain. He left the last one slowly bleeding out kneeling down to wipe the matted hair from your forehead, “You okay baby? Don’t worry honey I’ll make the bastard hurt.” He spoke not breaking eye contact, his hand pointed behind him, grip steady as he unloaded in the poor fool who thought it was a good idea to make you bleed, the wound was small, not even deep enough to trouble Giorno but that didn’t matter to Guido, any slight against you was disrespecting the future parent of his children, and what kind of man would he be if he didn’t defend your honor?

#yandere jjba #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #yandere jojo x reader #yandere Joseph #yandere josuke #yandere Kira yoshikage #kira yoshikage #josuke higashitaka #yandere x y/n #yandere imagine #yandere x reader #yandere mista #guido mista #yandere Joseph Jostar

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c-e-d-dreamer · 3 years

Text

For AU Day for @nessianweek I thought I’d test out this College AU that’s been bouncing around my brain because I’m College AU trash that I’m considering writing a proper/chaptered fic for. Hope you enjoy! :)

Most days, University of Prythian feels like every other public college. All brooding brick buildings and precisely placed green spaces and students loudly milling about in droves. A group of frat boys throwing around a frisbee on the common. A group of girls in bikinis tops taking advantage of the late August sun. Shouts of “oh my god, hey” and “how was your summer” just barely drowning out crying parents dropping their kids off. It’s migraine inducing.

Nesta throws the car into park, the old Chevy only groaning slightly as it settles after the trek up to campus. She hears the doors open and close, but she just grips the wheel and closes her eyes, taking in three steadying breaths and hoping the oxygen can find a way to calm her spiking blood. In through the nose, out through the mouth. It’s a new year. After everything that happened last year, technically up should be the only direction. She hopes. Once Nesta feels like she has a hold of her frayed nerves, she slides out of the driver’s seat to find Feyre already excitedly pulling her bags from the trunk, settling them on the pavement next to the car. Elain comes up beside their youngest sister, pulling her own suitcases out.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drop you off closer to your dorm, Elain?”

“I’m in Oakwood this year. It’s not that far a walk.”

Nesta nods, grabbing the last of Feyre’s bags and closing the trunk. Before Elain can wheel off with her bags, Feyre’s wrapping an arm around each of her sisters’ shoulders, a wide smile plastered across her face under her U of P baseball cap.

“The Archeron sisters are back together again!”

“Well, until Nesta graduates,” Elain reminds Feyre.

“Maybe she’ll do a fifth year, just for us.”

Nesta just raises an eyebrow at her sisters’ antics. A fifth year? Impossible. Not only because she takes her studies very seriously, keeping her GPA well above the average, but because the idea of spending an extra, unnecessary year in this place sounds like her own personal circle of hell. The sooner she can finish her degree and get on with the rest of her life, the better.

“Alright,” Feyre concedes. “Bad suggestion.”

With a wave and a promise to meet up for dinner later, Elain is off towards Oakwood Hall. Nesta hoists one of Feyre’s duffle bags onto her shoulder, following her youngest sister toward her own dorm hall. As she steps up onto the sidewalk, though, her shoulder collides with a firm body, Feyre’s bag almost falling out of her grip.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going,” Nesta seethes.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” a voice calls in return, already swallowed up by the groups of students moving in and out of the dorm hall.

Nesta rolls her eyes at the saccharine nickname, resettling the duffle on her shoulder and catching up to Feyre. Her sister’s dorm reminds Nesta of her own freshmen dorm from back in the day, simple and small, all white walls and plain wood furniture. Despite the things already in the room, Feyre’s roommate is nowhere to be seen.

“Do you need help with anything else?” Nesta asks, dropping the bag she had been holding onto Feyre’s bed.

“I should be good. Orientation starts in a few hours.”

A moment passes as the two sisters stare at one another. They aren’t exactly the most affectionate of families, hugging and that sort of thing. So with a small nod and smile, Nesta is on her way, back out of the dorm hall and to her car.

Luckily, the off campus apartment she’s staying in this year isn’t that long a drive, and when she walks through the door, Emerie is already inside, leaning against their kitchen counter, a fork poised between her fingers and what looks like a slice of chocolate cake perched on a plate.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Emerie drawls, but the smile tugging at the corner of her lips gives away the teasing nature.

“Hope you brought enough to share,” Nesta replies, eying up Emerie’s plate.

“Do I look like I’m made of money? Go to the dining hall and get your own.”

“When’s Gwyn meant to get in?”

“Not until later this week. I’m surprised you’re on campus this early.”

“Feyre has orientation this week. Plus I need to hit up the bookstore. I have Williams this semester.”

“That man seriously needs to get that stick out of his ass when it comes to having the “right edition” for his class.”

“Tell me about it,” Nesta sighs, sneaking her hand into the utensils drawer and then snagging a bite of Emerie’s cake before the female has a chance to react.

“Hey!” Emerie calls after Nesta as she retreats to her room. “You’re lucky I like you, Nesta Archeron!”

~ * * * ~

The campus bookstore is mostly filled with parents and baby-faced freshmen trying to decide which University of Prythian gear to spend all their money on, but once Nesta pushes back to where the shelves of textbooks live, the throngs of bodies thin out. She can’t help but run her finger along the spines of the books, all lined perfectly along the shelves. Each spine is a different color, a different texture, bold or curvy font declaring its title to the world, and while many are textbooks, that feel under her fingers is still a comfort. Like a heartbeat lives between the soft linen pages and beats in time with her own.

A turn around the corner and Nesta finds the section of books she needs. She scans the different titles, and when her eyes finally land on the one she needs, she can’t help the long sigh that looses from her lungs. Of course, it’s on the very top shelf. Nesta reaches her arm up, stretching up onto her tip-toes until the pads of her fingers just brush the spine of the book, trying to inch the book closer to the edge where she could get it down.

“Need some help, sweetheart?”

Nesta falls back on her heels in surprise, the voice and nickname snagging on her memory. She whips her head around to find a guy leaning against the shelf, arms crossed casually across his chest and a smug smile plastered across his face. He’s tall with broad shoulders, dark curls pulled into a bun at the back of his head. Nesta’s eyes can’t help but snag on the lines of ink dancing across the skin of his arms and peeking out of the open cuts of his bro-tank. When her eyes dance back to his face, his hazel eyes are alight like he had clocked and was delighted in what she had been doing. It makes her brain crash back into action, a scowl settling easily across her features.

“You were the one who bumped into me earlier. Outside of Somerset Hall.”

“That was you?” the guy asks, not even being subtle as he checks Nesta out. “My apologies. Let me make it up to you by taking you out to dinner.”

Nesta doesn’t even deen that with a response. With a scoff, she turns back toward the front of the bookstore. She can come back later for the book she needs, ideally when this insufferable man with his cocky grins and overconfidence is nowhere to be seen. As she weaves her way through the shelves and toward the exit, she pointedly ignores the heavy set of footsteps she can hear trailing behind her.

“At least tell me your name.”

“No.”

“No? Well that’s definitely an interesting name. My name’s Cassian by the way.”

“I don’t recall asking.”

“You didn’t have to. Your eyes were asking for you.”

That has Nesta halting in her steps. She whirls around and clearly her sudden stop has this Cassian thrown off, his own steps stumbling. Good. She likes having the upperhand.

“Does that line actually work for you?”

“Actually, I usually have to use less words. My ruggedly handsome looks do all the talking.”

“Rugged? Sure. But handsome?” Nesta pointedly rakes her eyes down his figure, and when they meet back with hazel, Cassian’s cock-sure grin slips the barest hint at the corner. “I don’t think so. You looked like you crawled out of a dumpster.”

Nesta expects his smile to fall fully at the jab, and she hopes it’s enough for him to leave her alone, but instead that smile is still stubbornly there. Even worse, it twists and shifts into a smirk, like this is all some kind of fun game. It makes Nesta’s heart give an extra kick in her chest, and before she can even think about dwelling on what that means, she turns on her heel.

“Goodbye, Cassian.”

“Goodbye, sweetheart.”

~ * * * ~

On Thursday, Nesta finds herself at the dining hall. It’s a little late for breakfast and too early for lunch, so luckily the place is blessedly not too crowded, just a few pockets of students talking and laughing at various tables. She’s standing in front of the pastry display when her phone starts buzzing incessantly, and she slides it out of her pocket to find Feyre going off in their sister group chat.

I just met the most attractive man I have ever seen

I’m not fucking around. HIS FACE

And he called me darling

He asked me to drinks tomorrow night!

“I personally prefer the blueberry muffins.”

Nesta snaps her attention to her left to find Cassian standing there, that same wide and cocky grin from the bookstore settled across his face. His hair is down today, soft curls framing his face and brushing against his cotton tee covered shoulders.

“You again,” Nesta sighs.

“Isn’t it funny how we keep meeting?”

“Funny isn’t the word I would use.”

“It’s almost like the Universe keeps pushing us together.”

“Or you’re stalking me.”

“Maybe you’re stalking me,” Cassian says, tossing a wink Nesta’s way.

“And why would I do that?”

“I thought we already established the fact I’m ruggedly handsome?”

“Pretty sure the only thing we’ve established is that you’re full of yourself.”

Nesta turns and snags one of the wrapped chocolate chip muffins out of the display case, fully prepared to end this conversation and enjoy her snack in peace.

“You forgot something the other day, you know.”

Nesta looks back toward Cassian where he has an outstretched hand between them. There, clutched between his fingers, is the book she went to the campus bookstore to pick up. She blinks a few times at the wide script proclaiming Art Through the Ages, the cogs in her brain tripping over one another and trying to comprehend the sight before her. Her hand begins to reach out to take the book before she snaps it back to her side, her eyes locking back on Cassian’s face.

“You got the book I needed?”

“The perfect excuse to find and talk to you again.”

“Well, I can’t accept it.”

“Then you can Venmo me,” Cassian says, leaning into Nesta’s space and pressing the book into her hands. “And your Venmo will have your name, won’t it? So it’s a win-win.”

This close up, Nesta can see all the green vines and gold flecks that make up his hazel eyes. The way his nose sits just off kilter like it’s been broken and set not quite right and the stubble pushing through along his jawline. She can feel the warmth that seems to radiate off his person in rolling waves. It’s a bit overwhelming.

“It’s Nesta,” she offers, taking a step back.

“Nesta,” Cassian says, like he’s testing the weight of her name on his tongue. “Well, Nesta, how about that dinner? The offer still stands. Or we could skip straight to dessert.”

Nesta lets out a snort at the comment. She’s sure the sound isn’t particularly attractive, but she can’t help it. The audacity of this man.

“Only in your dreams,” Nesta quips, turning on her heel and heading toward the register to pay for her muffin.

“Is that a promise?”

She pretends she doesn’t hear him as she swipes her meal card and makes for the dining hall exit. She can feel Cassian’s eyes tracking her the whole way.

Later, when Nesta gets back to her room and is thumbing through Art Through the Ages, she finds a note folded up between the pages. She opens up the paper to find an unfamiliar scrawl, simple black lines spelling out ‘Cassian’ and ten digits. She hesitates for only a moment before crumbling it up and tossing it in the trash.

~ * * * ~

Classes start up on Monday, and Nesta is ready to throw herself back into her books, notes, and work. She has a jammed packed schedule this semester, knocking out the rest of her general education credit requirements needed to graduate on time. The perfect distraction to keep her mind busy. At least, she was able to squeeze in enough classes that actually interest her, including a course on Early Women Writers.

On Tuesday, she walks into the science building and her chemistry class. She finds a lab table a few spots back from the front, settling onto one of the stools. She pulls her textbook and laptop from her bag and is just typing in her laptop password when she feels a presence behind her.

“I guess I should thank you for coming through on your promise. The best dreams I’ve ever had.”

Nesta can’t stop the pained sigh that pulls its way out her lungs. She rubs a hand down her face before turning to the right, just in time to find Cassian sliding into the stool beside her. He has another cotton tee on, his hair once again pulled up into a bun style.

“Please don’t tell me you’re taking this class.”

Cassian reaches into his backpack and pulls out his own chemistry textbook, holding it up as some sort of proof.

“The Universe strikes again.”

“So you keep saying, but clearly the Universe has bad taste.”

Cassian throws his head back and laughs at the comment, surprising Nesta with his reaction and earning them a few curious looks from the rest of the class. The sound is deep and warm, seeming to radiate from deep within his chest. His shoulders shake like his large frame isn’t enough to contain the sound, and Nesta finds herself staring at the crinkles that appear beside his eyes.

“Alright, class. Welcome to chemistry.”

A hush falls over the whole room as the professor strides in the door and to the front of the room. She hands a small stack of syllabus sheets to each person sitting at the front to be passed back and a blank seating chart to fill in is passed between the tables. The professor goes through the syllabus for much of the allotted class time, and Nesta makes notes in the margins of hers about the grading system and circles the important deadlines she’ll need to remember.

“I hope you’re comfortable with where you’re sitting and who you’re sitting with,” the professor addresses the class an hour later. “They’ll be your lab partner for the rest of the semester.”

Nesta wants to groan as she buries her face in her hands. How did this become her life? As if simply seeing Cassian’s insufferable face three times a week for this class isn’t enough, now they actually have to interact and work with one another. If Cassian’s theory about this being the Universe's doing is correct, Nesta is pretty sure the Universe is just laughing in her face now.

“Well, would you look at that, Nes,” Cassian drawls from beside her. “Another point for the Universe.”

“I’m going to murder you in your sleep,” Nesta mutters from between her fingers.

“As long as we get to cuddle a little beforehand.”

“Cute,” Nesta says, putting as much dry sarcasm as she can behind the single word.

“You know, lab partner,” Cassian offers while he stands up and slings his backpack across his shoulders. “I think it’s going to be a great semester.”

#my fic #acotar #nessianweek2021 #nessian #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #cassian

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theshelbyclan · 4 years

Text

Angel

Summary: You cross paths with famous Thomas Shelby after killing someone he wanted dead, and you can’t help but recognise so much of yourself in this man

(Gif by @nofckingfighting) A/N: The ever-lovely @psych0crybaby requested: good evening my dear. i saw that your request are open again. Could i ask for some Tommy with a total badass reader? Maybe where she saves their asses and no one knows where she is( and she just walks away) and then they see her again and ada explains to them that she mostly kills rapists and guys who harass woman because someone did the same to her when she was in the war? if you are comfortable with, if not have a good evening or day 🌺 I remember the first time I read this request and immediately being drawn to it. I did however want to do it right, you know? Like I really wanted to think about it, so I have. This comes with a warning for anyone familiar with PTSD, and some sexual abuse and assault is mentioned: this may be triggering. Sorry that it took a while to get this out, but I hope you like the result! Words: 4370 *** Breathe in. Look. See. Focus. Remember. Breath out. Throw. The first knife whooshed passed your face and hit the wall opposite you. The second followed quickly, almost magnetically. The third came after a small pause, the silence in which people feel a false sense of safety, and hit the target right in its middle.

“You’re too pretty to be out here in the mud.” “Again,” you told yourself, “there’s four of them”. Everything comes in four, good or bad. So you moved suddenly, ducked and threw three more knives, previously hidden in your sleeves.

“You know you want it.” Like a cat you jumped up onto a roof and mid-air threw three more, taken from your pockets. But the hardest was yet to come. The last man was always hidden, always late, like that last knife. He too swished and betrayed. So from your boots, you took another knife, jumped down suddenly and planted it in the back of the invisible assailant. “Good girl…” The job was done. Now for the real work. “What happened to you?” And you told yourself, “I’m ready.” ***

“What is your concern, Tommy?” “The one minute. The soldier’s minute. In battle it’s all you get.” Thomas Shelby lived his life looking over his shoulder, but when he turned, there was nothing there. You see it happening, everything at once and there’s no avoiding it. It’s always there, right behind you. Like running through a house with the devil hot on your heels, finally finding the way out, but when you step into the garden, it starts all over again: you’re back at your starting point. You see, your body may be outside in the sunlight, but your mind is back at the house. That’s what it felt like, every day. “We live somewhere between life and death.” This is what existing is: always living somewhere between life and death, between sleep and awake. And the nightmares, they bled into the days, taking over slowly. “Is it another war you’re looking for, Tommy?” There was supposed to be one war, to end all wars. But instead, kids were sent out to die in the mud, and for what? All that blood, smoke, tears, sweat and carnage. Men blowing the whistles, boys praying and crying. Was he looking for another war? That would imply the first one had ended. “I’ll remember everything and forget nothing. I’m thinking ahead, thinking of every possibility, remembering everything that is happening…” As if he could forget. The smallest things could trigger his memories, taking him right back. When John was little, he used to be scared of a monster. Ada had told him that: that there was a witch living in the walls that you could only see in the mirrors. John didn’t sleep for weeks after her little story. And now, the monster turned out to be real, except no one believed in it anymore. Still, it was everywhere and you had to be constantly on your guard. Because it’s not just in the walls and mirrors; it’s always right behind you, creeping, slithering, crawling it’s way up your spine… And so he became a machine, no longer a human being, fuelled by whiskey and cigarettes only, always plotting. “Thomas Shelby against the whole bloody world, right?” And so he wrote, “My name is Thomas Shelby and today, I’m going to kill a man.” *** There had been five of you at home. And home was in Small Heath, though you moved house all the time. When the poverty got bad, the family was split up and you and mother went into a boarding house for women, while father and the oldest brothers went into a boarding house for men. You were alright with this, because father was a bad man, but you feared for your brothers. Mother was the sweetest woman to ever live, always making sure you ate before she did. You never noticed her withering away before it was too late. At twelve, you started working. Walking the docks and shipyards was dangerous, so your brothers tried their best to prepare you. They weren’t like the other men in Small Heath. “Take this,” one brother told you on the morning of your first shift, “Hide it, in those boots.” You’d gotten charity boots, the first one in the family! But walking in them still felt uneasy, and now he expected you to slide in a small knife as well? “When someone comes,” he continued, urging you with his fiery eyes, “you stick ‘m. Don’t wait, don’t hesitate and don’t ask any questions. When he comes, you stick ‘m and you keep on sticking ‘m!” This was the first lesson you’d been taught. Four brothers all taught their little sister and each had but one objective: keeping you safe. One gave you the knife, the other taught you how to fight and the third took the beatings your drunk father had intended for you. The fourth hadn’t any strength or knowledge to share, so he kept close. Wherever you went, he followed in the shadows, and it was like having your own guardian angel, made up of filth and smoke. When the war came, they all enlisted. Of course they did: they were good, strong and brave men. You saw them off, one by one, and after waving goodbye to your guardian angel, something inside you snapped. Inspired by their love and courage, you became a nurse and took up a post at the front. You became a guardian angel yourself. *** Tommy was looking for a war. After France, they’d taken over the Shelby enterprise again and he had ambitions of expansion. Still, there were those in Small Heath who’d forgotten about the Shelby’s and he had to re-establish their reputation. “It’s happened again, Tommy,” John said sombrely, during a family meeting. Tommy sighed and dipped his head forwards, “Will he live?” “Yeah,” his brother replied, “but what are we going to do about this?” Polly, the voice of reason, said, “You need to make an example of him, Thomas. Show him who’s in charge. We can’t have a few Irish rebels killing and beating up our runner-boys. It’s bad for business.” Tommy nodded slowly and was formulating a plan as they spoke, “He drinks at the Horse’s Head. That’s where we’ll get him.” “Are you mad?” Arthur questioned, “On any given night there’s at least fifty Irish in there. It’s like a bloody army!” “We’re not scared of some fucking Irish,” John spat. “We’re not,” Tommy looked at his aunt with whom he shared his strategic skills, “but we need to be smart about this.” “Smoke him out,” Polly added, knowing her nephew’s mind so well. “We need an incentive.” Everything was all planned out. Tommy had an explosion, a staged fight and the rum in place. The men would scatter, the police would be elsewhere and their target would run. As the pub would be set on fire, he would literally be smoked out. That’s where they would be. The plan was good, well thought out and each eventually had been dealt with.

When the night came, the first part worked like a well-oiled machine. A small explosion in the shipyards, John’s, had drawn the police away. It would take them a while too, seeing as the Communists held their meetings there. Danny Whizz-bang would be inside the pub, looking both menacingly and vulnerable enough to not attract attention among the rebels. He was doing good tonight; he’d be able to light the fire. Tommy, Arthur and a few other blinders were waiting in the alleyways. Smoke started emerging from the pub and Tommy’s head shot up at the shouts of men. As he was getting ready mentally, he thought: some day, I won’t be the one doing this work. As men started fighting and chaos ensued, he followed one insignificant figure with his eyes. This man ran, frantically, into the protection of one of the dark alleys. Tommy followed and shouted his name. The man turned and his face fell as he recognised the Shelby. He in turn grabbed his gun and pointed it at him, saying, “Don’t fuck with the Peaky Blinders.” But as Tommy was about to pull the trigger, the man fell forwards. The irritation of an eventuality not anticipated shot through Tommy and as he walked forwards, he saw a small knife sticking out of the Irish’ neck. He died on the spot. His first thought was if he could still pass this off as a killing by the Peaky Blinders, because Polly had been right: they needed to make a statement. Of course he could. His second thought lasted a lot longer and actually drove him to action: who’d done this? The angle of the knife made him look up, towards the roofs. No one was there, but Tommy still ran. As a kid, he used to climb roofs. As an adult, he dug tunnels. It’s funny how both came back to him now. Fearing whomever it was he couldn’t see, he chased the murderer. Once up, he could easily recognise the signs: someone had been on the roofs. There were bits of dust where bricks had been falling, flecks of ash where someone had been smoking and the smell of soap where someone had been waiting. Still, the killer was long gone. *** You weren’t sleeping, but sort of dreaming with one eye open. You did that a lot. Nightmares kept you vigilant, even at night. The boarding house you were living at was positively Dickensian, but you didn’t mind. You came from nothing and had little trouble going back to it. Besides, there was no money coming in at the moment, so you didn’t have the funds for any proper room.

In the dark, you thought of the men on your list. One of the best things about the boarding house was its anonymity. People who lived here were the poorest of the poorest, only surpassed by those on the streets and the working houses. No one asked any questions, no one looked at each other and shame drove people into hiding. The large room was separated into small spaces by a few curtains only, but still, there was some sense of privacy. In the darkness, you could think. The worst thing about the boarding house was the sound. It wasn’t the crying babies, children whining for food or people fighting each other, but the sound of pain. Some women wailed in their sleep and it shook you to your core every time. Your mother had sounded like that. You had too, you knew it. Early in the morning, you left. “Where are you off to, eh?” the old lady who slept next to you asked. In some ways, she was the pauper’s queen and she got away with prying. “Work,” you replied shortly. The old woman laughed a hoarse laugh, “You’re not fooling no one, dearie…” As soon as you walked onto the streets, a calmness came over you. Poverty was familiar, but it frightened you too. It was like a hand around your throat, always squeezing just a little but more. Inside, especially, it was like drowning. In Small Heath, some women had started their first shifts at the factories already and men were shovelling coal into the big machines. Sparks flew and fizzled out in your hair. Soot clung to your already filthy clothing. In other words, nothing about you looked out of the ordinary. The rest of the day was filled with you practising two skills: observing and vanishing. You listened in on conversations everywhere, while timidly looking away when anyone did notice you. Men boasted of their achievements and women complained everywhere. But you listened for any signs of cruelty and found it easily. See, in a city forgotten by civilisation, no one notices cruelty anymore. It’s part of everyday life. You, however, had decided to change that. This was your revenge, or atonement, whichever way you looked at it. One man in particular stood out to you. His eyes were cold and his shoulders broad, and when his wife came to him during his break, he slapped her without warning. Sometimes menace leaves a certain aura and you could sense it in him. When a filthy child came from the factory as well, also on a short break, you motioned the child to come over. “Hey, love,” you said softly. The child didn’t trust you, but his sunken eyes still pleaded, “What?” “Here,” you offered him a bun you’d just stolen, “I need your help.” He hadn’t eaten in days, that much was clear, and with his mouth full of crumbs, he said, “Wiff whaff?” “I’m new here in Birmingham. Where can I get a job?” He pointed, “Ask the foreman.” You smiled gently, “Thanks, love.” “Where’d you get the bun?” he inquired, less shy with each bite. “My husband bought it for me.” “You not hungry?” This child was sweet, so he’d know, “No, you have it. We got more at home.” “Okay,” and he continued absolutely devouring the pastry. Just before he walked off again, you asked him, off-handedly, “That man, over there?” you pointed at the man with stony eyes, “You know him?” The boy fell still, “Yeah. He works here.” “What’s his name?” “Don’t know,” he whispered, “But mum told us to stay away.” “Why?” The kid shrugged, “He’s a bad man I suppose.” “Like those Shelby’s,” you tried, knowing the kid would know them like everyone around here did. It worked. “Nah,” he laughed, “the Shelby’s would never touch a woman!” “Does he?” you asked, eyes narrowing. “Mum says so. Mum says women are scared of him, because he hurts them. All of them.” You nodded slowly, “Why don’t the Peaky Blinders take care of him?” He shrugged again, “Miss? Thanks for the bun, but I really need to get back. I need my job.” “I know,” you urged him, “Go.” In France, you helped the sick and dying. This is what you had come for and you’d given up everything to do it. With the telegram of each brother found dead, you became more focussed on the work. It was like you turned into a machine, running only on adrenaline. Sometimes you would work shifts of 48 hours, simply because the other nurse had collapsed, or because the bodies wouldn’t stop coming in. Fear became second nature and fatigue had to be ignored. But being tired also made vulnerable: you learned this when one of the superior officers followed you into the halls of the makeshift hospital. Remaining on your feet after working for so long was easy, as long as you kept on moving. But when he grabbed you and you paused, your knees started buckling. Maybe it’d been the fear, maybe it was his rank and maybe it was purely that fucking bloody war, but there was no fight left in you in that moment. He had his way with you and you just… froze. Shame and guilt drove you back to England and back into the shadows you retreated. And then, shame and guilt turned into anger and the guardian angel became an avenging angel. You didn’t have to wait long. After his work was done, you followed the man with the cold eyes, watching his every move. All your fears and the kid’s warnings were confirmed in a dark corner of a filthy street. The woman never stood a chance. And so you vowed: you would end him. *** “What’s up with you?” Ada asked pointedly. Tommy’s head shot up and he stared at his sister with vacant eyes. “Thomas Shelby, the man who never eats. A rare biological mystery, he is,” Ada commented sarcastically. He grabbed a fork and picked up a potato, “I eat.” “Hardly,” Polly commented. “I have work to do, so if you ladies don’t mind…” But Ada wasn’t finished, “You’ve been lost in thought all day. Mind sharing it with us?” “No really.”

“Because we’re just women or…”

“Ada!” Tommy sighed, “Something… happened. Something unexpected and I can’t figure out how.”

“And this bothers you.”

There was something deeply infuriating about having a sister who was reading the newspaper, right next to you, but never made eye contact, and still she was absolutely right about everything. So Tommy threw his head back and admitted defeat, “Someone killed a man.”

“It’s Small Heath.”

“Someone I wanted dead, but he got there before me.”

Polly sat back down and leaned forwards, “The Irish? I though we did that.”

“Yes, that is what I had people believe.”

Ada suddenly looked up, “How?”

“I failed to take it into my calculations…”

“No. How was the Irish killed?”

Tommy blinked a few times, “A knife. Thrown from the roof.”

His sister smiled faintly, didn’t say a word and then went back to her newspaper.

“Ada…” Tommy growled, “If you know something, tell me.”

“Why? I thought you boys were taking care of business now.”

He looked at his aunt for support, almost desperate, but saw from her face that he could hope for little sympathy there.

“Fine, what do you want,” he demanded.

“Respect,” Ada said coldly.

“You have my respect.”

“Good,” she slowly flipped the page, “Now tell me you need me.”

Polly’s smirk grew into a grin and Tommy cursed all women, right there and then.

So he cleared his throat, “Ada, please, tell me.”

“It’s almost like it’s physically painful for him, isn’t it?” Polly said conversationally to Ada.

“Fucking hell…” Tommy groaned, “Ada, I fucking need your help. Please just tell me what you know!”

“Fine,” she abruptly closed the newspaper, “You need to go to that pub in Digbeth.”

“The one by the water?” Tommy frowned.

“That’s the one. Next to that boarding house that should’ve been closed years ago. That’s where you’ll find your killer.”

Immediately, he stood up. Because even though he thought he’d been subtle about it, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the incident for days now. The killer, whoever he was, had taken over his thoughts entirely. It was dark outside already, but still early enough for the pubs to be open. He’d go there at once.

“Tell her I said ‘hi’,” Ada called after him as he left.

And Tommy retraced his steps slowly, “‘Her’?”

“Her.”

He paused for a second, but when nothing else came, “You know they don’t allow women in pubs.”

“They do her,” Ada chuckled.

“Ada, stop playing these fucking games!” he shouted, as he threw down his cap in anger.

She, however, didn’t even blink and repeated, “Her. It’s a woman who killed your Irishman. All the women here know her; she takes care of a certain kind of man for us. She doesn’t want it known and she rids the world of bastards, so we leave her be. It all works out.”

Tommy turned to Polly, “Did you know of this?”

“I’ve heard of her, yes.”

“Then why the fuck has no one told me before?”

Polly sent a stern gaze at her nephew from over her teacup, “I thought you weren’t interested in women’s business.”

***

When you walked into the pub, a small nod to the man behind the bar was all that was needed. Dressing like a man had many advantages and this was definitely one of them. Still, he knew you were a woman, but after helping him out one night, you were allowed in. So you sat in the corner and became one with the furniture, drinking your whiskey in silence.

And then it happened. One man, who had no business being here, walked in. Thomas Shelby of the Peaky Blinders was considered royalty in Small Heath, so why would he be here, in this grimy little cellar pub?

The thought that he came looking for you never even crossed you mind at first. He leaned over the bar and ordered whiskey, asking a few more questions you couldn’t hear. You tried to listen more closely, but the more you did so, the more inaudible his words seemed to become.

Suddenly, he turned and looked you right in the eyes. Without a second thought, you jumped up, kicked the table towards him and made your way to the door.

“Fuck,” you heard him ground out, but still he was quick. In a flash, he had the door barricaded and a gun pointed at your head.

“Out!” he commanded everyone but you.

You felt for the reassuring blades under your clothes and relaxed a little.

“Now, Miss…” he started after everyone had left.

But you didn’t plan on being interrogated, so the first knife whooshed passed his head: a warning.

Thomas Shelby froze. Then it was like an animal awoke in him and he lunged forwards, tackling you down with him. While you were struggling, you tried to plant a second knife into his leg, but he rolled away just in time. With big eyes he stared at the weapon now stuck in the floor.

And so you were standing opposite each other, weapons of choice pointed at each other’s heads.

“Alright,” he said after a while, holding up his hands in a pacifying manner, “There’s no need to fight.”

“Spoken by a man who knows he will lose,” you replied, without missing a beat.

“You want a fight?” Tommy said quickly, “Then fight me like a man. No gun, no fucking knives. If my sister is right about you, you’ll fight me like a man.”

With that you scoffed and threw away the knives, right next to his head, into the door. It gave you such pleasure to see him shudder with each one, but your face betrayed nothing.

“Now what?” you asked.

“You tell me.”

“Fine,” you sighed and punched him in the face, hard.

As his head shot back, you noticed a flicker of surprise in his features, but he quickly recovered and his face turned emotionless yet again.

Your triumph didn’t last long. If anything, you arrogance had distracted you, so the three blows that followed from his fists came out of nowhere. One to the nose, one to the chin and the last one square in the jaw. Thank God you weren’t vain.

You took a breath in, made yourself focus and quickly jabbed him two times, before hitting him right in the eye with a mean left hook.

“Jesus Christ…” he muttered, “Who the fuck taught you how to fight like that?”

“My brothers,” you replied, before you could stop yourself.

Tommy held up his hands and his two punches to your gut literally took your breath away. Meanwhile, he said, “Why aren’t they here to defend you now, eh?”

“Do I look like I need to be fucking defended?” With a sudden kick you were certain you cracked at least on of his ribs.

Wheezing, he leaned over, but managed to grab your leg in the process and flipped you over onto the ground, “Brothers still do.”

“They’re dead,” you said from the floor, “the Somme,” and with one quick motion, you’d tackled him with your legs, “What about you?”

“The Somme too. Verdun…”

Before he could recover, you climbed on top of him and started pounding his pretty face with your fists. Unfortunately, he quickly bucked you off and hit you with a nasty uppercut, which made you wonder about your teeth.

You crawled back a little and felt with a hand at your mouth: blood. Tommy leaned against the wall and was still panting, lightly tracing a hand over his ribs. The chaos subdued and you both rested.

“Are we done?” he growled.

You stared at him with a look that told him you could go on for hours like this, “What is it that you want?”

“I just want to talk.”

Quickly, you started thinking out your options. Clearly, he knew who you were and evidently, you’d killed the wrong person this time. Really, it was bound to happen at some point.

“Who was it?” you asked, “the one you didn’t want dead.”

“I did want him dead,” he said as he slowly lifted his cigarette case from his pocket.

“Then what’s the problem?”

He smiled a little and the gesture was so unexpected that the feeling it gave you caught you completely off-guard, “I wanted to be the one to kill him.”

You furrowed your brows, thought back and suddenly nodded slowly, “The Irishman.”

He pointed at you with his cigarette in hand, “That’s the one.”

In the silence that followed, you watched this man, this broken boy. His eyes started glazing over and you knew he drifted off to placed in the distant past. As he smoked slowly, you recognised the signs of a flashback so well and you suddenly became more curious than ever about this man.

He saw the same thing in you evidently, because out of the blue he said, “You and me. I think we understand each other.”

“Do we?” you said in a voice that demanded distance.

He nodded a little, “We kill.”

You laughed a cold laugh, “Are you insane like me?”

“Maybe I am…”

“Or just in pain like me?” you added.

He didn’t speak for a long time, like he was thinking what to say next, but then, suddenly, he broke the pregnant silence. “Who hurt you?” he asked, in a voice so low it was almost inaudible.

You leaned forwards and locked eyes with him, fire burning inside them, “Everyone.”

Tommy sat back and offered you a cigarette, but soon realised you wouldn’t take it from his hands without expecting abuse from them. So he threw it your way and you grabbed it gratefully. When you lit it, the two of you leaned against the wall in the same manner, postures similar.

“It’s time,” he announced, looking up at the ceiling.

You cocked one eyebrow, “Is it?”

“The minute is almost up.”

“And how does it end?”

He sighed, “With names. You’ve beaten me. I’m no longer Mr. Thomas Shelby. It’s Tommy now.”

And you smiled at him softly and replied with your own vulnerability, “Y/N.”

***

Masterlist

#Thomas shelby #tommy shelby #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders headcanon #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders #ada shelby #ada thorne #polly gray #polly shelby #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders angst

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